Devoted together
The first believers
When the church was newborn, fresh from Pentecost and thousands strong, Luke pauses to describe what they actually did — and the portrait is strikingly ordinary. They devoted themselves, he writes, to the apostles' teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to the prayers. No grand strategy, no programs; just four simple things, done together, devotedly.
The word translated devoted means they held to these things steadfastly, persistently, as a settled way of life rather than an occasional event. And every one of them is communal. The teaching was received together; the fellowship was shared life; the breaking of bread was a common table; the prayers were prayed as one. The means of grace, which we so easily privatize, were from the very beginning practiced in company.
This is a needed corrective to our instinct to make spiritual formation a solo project. Much of this stage has rightly drawn you into solitude and the secret place — but the same disciplines were always meant to be lived out, also, in a committed community. The first Christians were not formed in isolation. They were formed together, devoted to a shared life, and it was there the Spirit shaped them into a people.
“They continued steadfastly in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and prayer.”
— Luke, of the first church — Acts 2:42 (WEB)
Live the disciplines in committed community, not as a solo project — devoted, with others, to teaching, fellowship, the table, and prayer.
“Not forsaking our own assembling together, as the custom of some is, but exhorting one another; and so much the more, as you see the Day approaching.”
Private faith appeals to us partly because it spares us the friction — the bearing-with, the being-known — which is the very place patience and humility are hammered out. The interior work is to hold solitude and community together as one rhythm of breathing in and breathing out, letting the secret place keep our shared life honest and shared life keep our solitude from souring into self-deception, and to accept that much of Christ's likeness simply cannot be grown alone.
This week, take one discipline you practice alone and add a communal expression: study with someone, pray with another, share a table, or commit more deliberately to the gathered church. Refuse to make your formation a solo project.
A lone sheep is the easy prey, which is why the flesh and the age conspire to keep your faith a solo project — me and God, undisturbed by anyone who might rub against your pride. Yet the patience, humility, and bearing love that most resemble Christ are forged only in the friction of shared life, and a soul devoted to it grows a Christlikeness solitude alone never could.
There is a deep modern instinct to make faith private and self-directed — me and God, my devotions, my walk — and to treat the gathered church as optional, even a distraction from real spirituality. The first believers would not have understood the idea. For them the disciplines were communal from the start: teaching, fellowship, the common table, shared prayer, held to devotedly, together.
Solitude and community are not rivals; they are the two lungs of a formed life, and a soul that breathes with only one grows sick. The secret place keeps community from becoming hollow performance; the community keeps solitude from curdling into self-deception. You cannot be formed into the likeness of Christ entirely on your own, because much of that likeness — patience, humility, love that bears with others — can only be forged in the friction and gift of shared life. Who are the people you are devoted to, and being formed alongside?
- Have I made my formation a solo project of me and God?
- Which of my two lungs — solitude or community — has gone weak?
- Who are the people I am devoted to, and being formed alongside?
Lord, I treat my faith as a private affair and the gathered church as optional. Knit me into a devoted community, where teaching and fellowship and the table and prayer are shared, and form in me, with others, the likeness I could never grow alone. Amen.