Be a Community that Subverts Cultural Narratives
Stories have a certain power.
Protagonists, villains, redemption arcs, rising and falling action—all these elements and more come together and form frameworks for how we see the world.
When stories begin to lock together and inform many people’s assumptions about life, purpose, and relationships, we call what emerges a “cultural narrative.” It’s a story that lots of people believe. Often, these grand stories aren’t spoken out loud; at least, not in full. We take them for granted. But still, they shape the way we function in society.
These stories can be as comprehensive and complex as “the American Dream”, or as simple and personal as “happiness comes from following your heart.”
Cultural narratives are different than ideologies. Ideology is developed, usually systematic, can be summarized by books and articles, and easily named, defined, or even debated. Cultural narratives, on the other hand, are amorphous and always in flux. This makes them difficult to nail down or even describe.
But arguably, cultural narratives are also much more operative in day-to-day life. People claim all sorts of ideologies: secular, political, religious, or other. But how we actually live is a starkly different matter.
Church leaders often think about ideology when preparing sermons. The antitheses we craft address misconceptions and false notions about scripture, morality, and the nature of God. We also respond to cultural narratives when we get into how scripture applies—challenging assumptions about what really makes for “the good life” or what truly provides personal peace and fulfillment.
But preaching and teaching aren’t the only means by which the church ought to meet cultural narratives head-on. It’s crucial that our communities themselves be accessible, appealing, and also challenging in a way that causes newcomers to rethink their approach to life and spirituality.
More often than not, modern people will interact with groups of Christians in social spaces before they ever come to church. When in public, our love and relating should be both eye-catching and instructive. Our relationships can’t just happen behind closed doors. Isolated good deeds won’t cut it, either. Those are typically present elsewhere in the world, and imitable apart from the Holy Spirit.
Francis Schaeffer put it like this years ago in his short book The Mark of the Christian:
“Jesus made clear what was to be the distinguishing mark of the Christian until His return: A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 13:33-35) …we are to love all true Christians in a way that the world may observe. This means showing love to our fellow Christians in the midst of our differences—great or small—loving them when it costs us something, loving them even under times of tremendous emotional tension, loving them in a way the world can see.”
The world has to be able to see! How can this happen if our only significant expressions of Christian community are sequestered to Sundays and hidden behind various liturgical elements?
Consider the following examples of common assumptions. Each of these is, in a sense, a powerful story, albeit one that has been cobbled together from images in the media, anecdotes from others, and personal experiences. These are prevalent ideas that the church has the potential to upend. What would it look like for Christian community to demonstrate something different and draw people towards the Gospel of Jesus Christ?
“Christians are weird and unrelatable.”
This story has been told for decades, featuring the likes of everyone from Ned Flanders to odd, estranged family members who wear ankle-length dresses and insist on praying before meals. To the average non-Christian, Christians are culturally “other.” We aren’t distinguished as much by our beliefs as our social behaviors—especially the things we don’t do.
Some of these differences are moral in nature, and therefore important to maintain. Others, however, are cultural and in need of contextualization. Christians are meant to be an embedded people. Following the example of Paul and other great missionaries, we should seek to be “all things to all people”, or like the people we are trying to reach (1 Corinthians 9:19-23).
Is your community one that naturally attracts and engages those who don’t know Christ? This should be an intensely practical question. Where do you meet people in the world together? What unnecessary barriers need to be removed so they can clearly witness the love you have for one another?
“Successful things look big and exciting.”
Many in Western cultures—Americans, especially—believe this narrative no matter their religion. We are attracted to large venues, big money, and famous people. It’s natural to assume that anything huge must be doing something right. Unsurprisingly, our football stadiums and concert halls have a lot in common with our most celebrated churches.
It’s on us to tell a different and better story by exposing people to the power of the small and intentional. It’s in intimate settings that friendships form, where people let down their guard and ask questions, confess sin, and do much else that scripture calls us to do.
Properly understood, this is spiritual success, and it’s measured in transformed lives. Where will those who are spiritually exploring get to see it?
“People can’t get along if they are too different from one another.”
Diversity is ostensibly one of Western culture’s chief values. Too bad our communities rarely seem to authentically attain it. How different should this be in the church, where our basis for unity goes deeper than common interests, the color of our skin, and our political allegiances.
Once again, subverting this narrative requires proximity to relationships. People are likely to assume that Christians are mostly the same. But through hearing our unique stories, they can begin to appreciate our distinct backgrounds. Here is where diversity can become a radical form of proof for the connecting power of the Holy Spirit.
The story our churches tell the watching world ought to be different from what they have come to expect. Are we engaging and disrupting the assumptions that keep people from hearing the gospel? Doing so effectively requires we not only continue to cultivate depth and love, but also make certain it can be seen and experienced.
About the Author
Josh Benadum is a disciple maker and community builder active in Orlando, Florida. He and his wife Meri serve a burgeoning network of house churches, and partner with Youth for Christ in reaching underserved youth. Josh has a MA degree from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School and specializes in training and deploying lay ministry leaders. He also works with Brave Future: a collaboration of thought leaders, organizations, and church networks dedicated to R&D for the future of the church.