All Things in Common

My wife and I recently began working our way through the Book of Acts, which chronicles the earliest days of the Church following Jesus’s ascension. Near the end of chapter two, the author of Acts highlights the fellowship of believers, noting specifically that “all who believed were together and had all things in common.”
It’s tempting to read those verses from within our 21st-century socio-political context. Which explains why even the briefest of internet searches will return numerous discussions concerning whether or not Acts is advocating a communal, and even communist way of living, especially in light of verse 45: “And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need.”
The Bible should certainly influence a Christian’s political thinking, but aligning Scripture with any political ideology is a fraught endeavor that can easily result in abuse and misunderstanding. Still, it’s striking that one of the defining characteristics of the early Church was that they had “all things in common.” Acts’ account seems to be not just a historical statement, but a normative one, as well, that describes how Christians should live, as befitting Christ’s “new commandment” in John’s gospel: “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
But what does it mean to have “all things in common” in a culture that’s as individualistic and decentralized as ours, where personal freedom and autonomy are some of the chief values? I’ve long-believed that Christians tend to over-think and over-spiritualize the answers to such questions. We want our faith to feel epic and momentous, and as a result, we risk missing out on the significance — and goodness — of the ordinary and mundane.
But when you choose to not overlook the ordinary stuff of life, then having “all things in common” starts look a lot more like:
- A friend texting you out of the blue to ask if they can bake you some cinnamon rolls.
- Picking up a friend from the airport at a moment’s notice.
- Being so trusted by your friend’s toddler that when they take a tumble and Mom’s not around, they immediately run to you for comfort.
- Faithfully hosting a regular game night for years on end, and generously ensuring a wide assortment of drinks and snacks every single time.
- Giving rides to and from church, every Sunday, to individuals living in a group home.
- Helping people out with their yard work.
- Delivering clothes that your kids have outgrown to younger families in the church.
- Bringing mercy meals to families who’ve just had a new baby or are experiencing illness or hardship.
- Restocking the little free pantry in your church’s neighborhood.
- Blessing church events with your elite-level BBQ or making French toast for the entire congregation on Easter Sunday.
- Braving the cold to shovel the church sidewalk in the winter.
- Cleaning someone’s house as they get ready to move and/or helping them load and unload the moving truck.
- Not being able to tell where one family ends and another begins as they sit beside each other in the pews.
- Taking turns hosting a monthly community dinner with other church folks who live nearby.
- Cheering on another churchgoer’s kid at their soccer match.
- And of course, church potlucks.
Some of these are things that my family has personally experienced and benefited from, while others are things that I’ve witnessed others do, or have heard about from those who’ve been blessed by them. And at first, they might not seem all that special. Of course people are going to help their friends move, you might say, or bring them a meal when they’ve just had a baby, so why make a big deal about it?
First off, pushing back against our culture’s increasing isolation and fragmentation (e.g., the much-reported male loneliness epidemic and political divisions), and striving to create more community, is an inherently good thing. After all, God did not intend for us to be alone and entirely self-sufficient. We need each other, and intentional, consistent community is a key indicator of a healthy, more flourishing and fulfilling life.
Second, I fear that dismissing such actions as mundane makes it easier to not do them in the first place precisely because they’re (seemingly) unimportant or unimpressive. But in my experience, people benefit from the mundane far more than we realize (see James 2:15 – 16).
When we had our first child, we were overwhelmed by people bringing us mercy meals. I don’t think we had to cook a single meal for ourselves during the first two weeks or so after we came home from the hospital, which was a true mercy because we could barely get enough sleep at the time, let alone summon the wits to make dinner. And people didn’t just bring piddly little casseroles, either, but lavished us with incredible dishes. Suffice to say, we ate well during those weeks… and each meal was tangible reminder that our little family was known, seen, and loved by our community.
Finally, it’s true that one need not be a Christian to pick up a friend from the airport or help a family member move. Those are all part of simply being a decent human being. But I’m reminded of an anecdote about C. S. Lewis — unfortunately, I couldn’t find the original source — that when he became a Christian, he was surprised to discover that much of what it meant to “live as a Christian” was just doing many of things that he’d done prior to his conversion, albeit with a different mindset and focus.
So yes, one might be quick to help a friend or family member move into a new house, but when one helps another churchgoer that they hardly know, two things happen. First, it provides an opportunity for new friendship. Second, and more importantly, it’s a simple reminder — so simple, in fact, that it’s easy to miss entirely — that we belong to a community that transcends and supersedes genetics, language, culture, social status, aesthetic preferences, political affiliations, and every other earthly distinction that unites — and more often than not, separates — us.
To have “all things in common,” therefore, is to remember that you are not your own. For Christians, our gifts, talents, possessions, and privilege do not ultimately belong to us. Such things are not to be gathered greedily or jealously protected. Rather, they are gifts from God to be stewarded and wisely used for the furthering of His kingdom and the blessing of those around us.