A professor of mine once observed with quiet fascination the hidden tribalism of our culture. Seated in the library of a well-known college campus, he decided to covertly monitor the fashion statements of collegiate men entering the building. One after another, young male college students made their way in, their chosen decor observed and noted.
Jeans. T-Shirt. Ball cap. Backpack draped over the right shoulder.
First one, then another. Then… another, over and over again, ad nauseum.
Jeans. T-Shirt. Ball cap. Backpack draped over the right shoulder.
To be fair, the t-shirts bore different logos, and the caps displayed different teams. Clothing became billboards touting individual uniqueness, broadcasting personal identity, differentiating them from the pack. Yet, despite the logos, they still bore the same outfit.
Jeans. T-Shirt. Ball cap. Backpack draped over the right shoulder.
The trend went on as, one after another, the repetitive strain of collegiate fashion waltzed through the library doors, painting different body types and varying ethnicities in the same cotton and polyester blend. Finally, after the fifteenth (or so) male to enter, the trend finally broke.
Jeans. T-Shirt. Backpack… but no ball cap.
We Are Communal By Nature
The truth is that, as much as we highlight individuality, we are staggeringly alike. The irony is that this sociological mirroring only seems to increase among those communities which elevate individualism to a premium. The more we strive to separate ourselves from the pack, the more we find ways to put out subtle signals to communicate that, while we are individuals, we still want to belong. Ironically, even the hyper-individualistic values of our culture draw their power from the way they unites us to each other. The progression flows like this:
- The community values those who forge their own path.
- I want to be valued by the community.
- I become one who forges my own path, so long as the path I choose to forge is approved of by my community.
- As one who forges my own path, I am welcomed into the collective.
This progression is important is important. The alternative, it would seem, is to be labeled among the sheep. Nobody wants to be a sheep.
Here’s the problem: we ARE sheep. Whether our collective identity is overt or subtle, we still identify ourselves among our brethren. We still shape ourselves in connection with others. We still seek out our tribes, and find ways to belong. We are communal by nature.
Nowhere is this more important than in the church. Yet, we still find this same individualist illusion subtly seeping through the walls of our own Christian theology. This, then, results in Christians who replace spiritual growth with an isolated self-help project. These are Christians who believe they can serve God without having to actually involve God. These are Christians who believe they can love their neighbor without ever having to meet their neighbor. These are Christians who believe they can be part of the Body of Christ without ever having to touch the other limbs.
These are sheep without a Shepherd.
The Architecture Of The Body
This is not the image of the Christian community we see taking shape in Scripture. In the second chapter of his letter to the Ephesians, Paul paints a very different picture. Here, Paul envisions a radical transformation, a powerful shift from “you were not” to “you are,” an architecture to house the Divine Presence in the midst of a Holy Temple wrought from living flesh and bone.
Paul is patient. He is careful to remind us of what individualism was really like. After all, we were not always part of the community. Once, we were ‘afar off’, before our Shepherd brought us near (v13). We were without the covenant, without the promise of Israel, without Christ, without God, without hope (v12). Once, we were truly on our own.
But, no longer. Our Shepherd, having sought us out, has become our peace (v17). We who were ‘without’ are now invited within. The architecture is built, and it is built by us. We are the mortar and stone, the ramparts and foundations, the beams and the shingles. We, the collective, are built together as a household of God (v19), a dwelling place for the Almighty (v22), and a holy temple in the Lord (v21). Of God, for God, in God. It is among us, as a community, that God comes and dwells.
We are a people of God, not merely persons. Just as the pillar of fire dwelt in the midst of the Israelite camp, so do we create a divine dwelling place in our midst, a collection of citizens and saints, who choose do life together and in the power of a holy God.
…Even with our jeans, t-shirts, ball caps, and a backpack draped over the right shoulder.
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How do you see the interaction between individual faith and the community of saints?
Featured Image Courtesy Of Ciao De Foto

Andrea March 11, 2013 at 7:06 pm
T E,
I would even take it a step further than that. Not only do we desire individuality, but freedom. As a body, we desire to be “free” from the “norm”. In reality, for the most part, we are very much designed as habitual creatures. We feel the need to roam the earth as nomads, but in reality, we do not often venture off-course. I believe this to be a good trait as habits have the ability to form discipline (assuming the habits are good ones). My students face this struggle all the time – even more so with the “individuality” because they wear uniforms when they’re in school. That is like clipping a bird’s wings to a teen!