The more complex and ornate the gathering becomes, the more difficult it is to be faithful to the “Great Commission”--to multiply to the ends of the Earth. The real fruit of an apple tree isn’t more apples, it’s more apple trees. We aim to do only that which can easily be reproduced since reproduction is itself the mission. The beauty of this is that it centers us on only what is necessary and thus foundational to what it means to be a faithful body of believers.

We don’t have a budget for paid ministry staff within each House. While paying Neighborly House pastors would be biblical, not paying staff affords those who are called to preach truth the ability to do so without fear of losing a paycheck (2 Tim 4:3-4). By not paying a pastor, Spirit-led multiplication isn’t inhibited by a community’s inability to pay a salary, and just as importantly, man-led multiplication isn’t enabled by a community’s financial strength. If God wills growth, God gives growth. When Jesus said we would be better off with his Holy Spirit dwelling in believers, we think he meant that. We give a lot of weight to what each person, governed by the Spirit, has to say and entrust ourselves to one another (Eph 4:11-16).

Nor do we have a marketing budget. We believe that our love for one another is what marks us as Christians. The world should know us by our love, not our billboards. As mentioned previously, if our love isn’t all that attractive, our love, not our budget, needs to increase. By valuing simplicity in this way, our very small community has seen children adopted, marriages repaired through paid-for counseling, housing provided, medical bills covered, people healed, missionaries sent out, the gospel preached, the hungry fed who have in turn fed the hungry, etc. We get excited by the thought of giving away as much as possible as we aim to live simply on our daily bread.

We meet in homes to ensure that each community stays small (15-20 people). We want a small enough environment so that all people can be deeply, truly, and persistently noticed and seen. In this way, the mission informs the design, not the other way around. Prioritizing smallness gives us the ability to faithfully abide by the fifty-one New Testament “one-another” commands that seem to necessitate smallness. It also helps us avoid a hefty mortgage which is one of the many reasons we can give 90% away and operate on 10%. So, once a group reaches its max, it’s time to open up another house. Remember, more apple trees.

You can probably tell by now that we aren’t trying to “cast a wide net” as it were. Too often, efficiency is the thief of intimacy. For us, and for the Church, success is defined by faithfulness, not by what “works”. It is the Lord’s job to give growth and the Lord’s alone (1 Cor 3:6). While the biblical descriptions of the early Church are admittedly attractive, the early Church model seems to be less of a prescription and more of a description. It helps to read the book of Acts as a descriptive retelling of what happened at their crazy, sometimes dysfunctional, but always powerful family reunions. Their gatherings, unlike ours, were simple, not sexy. How bad would it really be if, like the early Church, all we had was a family, the scriptures, and a cup with a side of bread? While the early biblical model is not the only “right” way, it definitively shows us that it was not the wrong way. Perhaps, if we began to live as they lived, we’d begin to experience what they experienced–a movement inexplicable without God.

The Hebrew word for justice is “mishpat” which, in the Bible, usually refers to restorative, not restributive justice. This justice isn’t a response to the injustice it sees in the world, but rather the end that it sees in the scriptures. To put it another way, it serves the world not by focusing on the problems in the world but by orienting its life to the Kingdom which is the redemption of the world. Let’s back up. In the beginning, God’s great commission was for his human imagers/representatives to be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth; cultivating earth as it was in Eden. When our subsequent rebellion ushered in a state of disorder and death, God’s plan to participate with humanity to restore his original Edenic vision was set in motion. First, through Noah who, like Adam and Eve, was told to be fruitful and multiply, then through Abraham who, in his old age, was told he would be fruitful and multiply God’s blessing throughout the whole earth, and finally through Christ who likened God’s Edenic world to a “Kingdom'' that had a participatory ruling assembly called an “ekklesia” with a “gospel” to spread. An ekklesia who, now empowered by the Spirit, were told to bear fruit, multiply, and go to the ends of the earth: cultivating earth as it is in Heaven. Sounds familiar right? It should come as no surprise to us then that the biblical story that began with a garden in Genesis 1-2 also ends with a garden in Revelation 21-22. God’s partnership with humanity as co-rulers in creation by his definition of good was the plan and still is the plan. With this sort of eschatological mindset, our work for justice becomes part of the mission to make present that which was and is yet to come. Simply put, biblical justice is restorative because it restores and propagates Eden where creation bends to God’s definition of good. Living towards this end allows us to say “yes” to the hallmarks of God’s good and ordered world and “no” to convincing counterfeits. For us, justice is about bending our small corner of creation back into Edenic shape.

Perhaps the hardest part of being in this intentional community is the intentional part. Depth and intimacy with one another does not happen naturally. Unity must be nurtured by reordering our lives. We take actionable steps to unify what has tragically become a fragmentation of Christ’s body. Our submission to one another out of reverence for Christ means that this church is our organizing principle of life. We cheer from the bleachers when one of our kids has a baseball game, we discern whether or not to take higher paying jobs that take us away from the body of Christ, and we attend one another’s adoption hearings, funerals, baptisms, etc. We are a family. The spiritual family of believers is supposed to be closer to us than our own biological families (Matt. 12:46-50, Luke 14:26). How do we know if we are part of a family? Author Andy Crouch says you have a family “if you have someone who knows where you are today and at least some sense of how it feels to be where you are. If you have people who know things about you that you don’t know about yourself — including things that if you did know you would seek to hide.” That’s what we’re pursuing. We believe this metaphor of family is grounded in scripture. In the Old Testament, this is a literal picture. The people of God are presented largely as the biological children of Abraham, and to join these people you joined Abraham’s biological family. In the New Testament, this picture is less literal but equally central. God is our father, who loves us and whom we love, and Jesus is our elder brother and other Christians are our sisters and brothers whom we love.

We don’t think this talk of a family is merely metaphorical; we believe rather that it’s crucial to the Bible’s overarching narrative of restoring the world through, not one biological family called the Israelites, but now many spiritual families called ekklesia (or “churches”) who, empowered by his Spirit, are to be communities of sign-post makers who point others to the New Creation. This spiritual family seems to be the primary way the Bible intends to give flesh to the love of God. Church shouldn’t be just a series of meetings; rather, it should feel like a family. We want to become a family—a family that we love, gladly receive correction from, suffer with, rejoice with, fail with, fight with, and grow old with. We and the world need to see that reconciliation and love among God’s people are possible. Our calling as a family is to be a demonstration plot where the world can see God’s love at work.

Jesus said that he would be among people in poverty. It’s no surprise then that he said people in poverty would always be among Christians (Matt 25, Jer 22:16). We think he meant that. Our friend Barry said, “If the poor are not on our path, perhaps we are not on God’s path.” If you are not eager to consistently encounter him in the distressing disguise of those at a disadvantage, our community is not for you. To us, solidarity with the disenfranchised is not an optional volunteer opportunity should we have free time. We eagerly rearrange our lives–rethinking what is of eternal value.

This means we will likely need to reorder our lives both individually and communally to prioritize the well-being of those at a disadvantage. We seek out and serve the least among us as a reenactment of the incarnation of Christ who, though he was God, traded a throne for the dust he created to take the posture of a servant (Phil 2:5-11, Mark 10:45). He who knew no sin became sin so that we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor 5:21). Put another way, he became what he was not so that we could become what we were not. Fundamental to Christianity then is not “making it to the top” or climbing the societal ladder but rather, following the God who descended his. We believe that Christological solidarity will require downward mobility, but it doesn’t stop there. It aims to bring about resurrection (Ezekiel 37:1-14). Mimicking Jesus, we too, climb down into the pit, pull others from it, and set their feet upon the rock. Being made in the image of a dust-animating creator means that we are designed to look at the chaos, disorder, and dust around us and believe that it too can be something that images God. It means standing hand in hand with those who have been systemically exploited by power structures and lifestyles that accumulate wealth and privilege through the repression of people (James 5:1-5). Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, said that we fulfill the law of Christ by carrying one another’s burdens (6:2). We can’t carry a burden without first bending over to pick it up. Downward mobility then is fundamental to what it means to enact Christian solidarity.

Imagine going to a parade where everyone who was supposed to be in the parade, with the exception of a few people, sat on the curb cheering. Ask any pastor or church staff member–this is the issue they spend most of their time trying to overcome. It’s no secret that there’s a problem with the West’s version of Christianity. There are a few people on stage using their gifts while the rest of us stare at the back of someone's head from the curb. Scripture seems to offer a solution.

We need a full-body workout. The Apostle Paul says that our spiritual maturity is at stake when only a few people function in their calling (Eph 4:11-16). At Neighborly House, we want to express the fullness of Christ to the world, so there are few things as important to us as figuring out how each person’s gift can contribute. The absence of a member of Christ’s body in the gathering should be as jarring as waking up without a limb. It’s more than “I missed you in worship.” It’s “We were a dysfunctional body without you because you are integral.” Think of the South African term “ubuntu,” which means “I am because we are.” When any individual gets this wrong and tries to function as all of the body parts, we have people trying to walk around on their hands. Sure, it can be done. Maybe even done well if it’s all you’ve ever known, but it’s limiting and unsustainable because it’s not what hands are designed to do. But alas, this captivating vision of a full-body workout comes with a catch-22. MLK Jr articulated it well when he said, “I cannot be who I ought to be unless you are who you ought to be.” One’s ability to faithfully follow God’s design for his Church is made possible only when others live into that vision.