Have you ever been part of a group where everything just seemed to click, where everyone in it felt like they fit? Perhaps you were part of a sports club that just had a deep sense of camaraderie, and it didn’t matter whether you were a starter or on the bench—you knew you were part of things. Or maybe you were part of a work team where everyone knew their role and everyone was highly motivated by a sense of shared purpose, and you felt like you were part of something.

When I was a youth pastor, our youth group would travel down to Tijuana to help build really simple one-room homes. Honestly, I’m not sure any longer if it would pass the “When Helping Hurts” standards—but what I remember is how everyone on the team was working together, supporting each other. It was hard work, but we all felt like we had a role in doing something worthwhile. And we became close.

Because when you’re in a group like that, it’s not just that you get things done well. As you experience a harmony and a mutual belonging, as egos take a back seat and people all work together for the group, a bond forms. These are your friends.

What we’re describing are just tastes—almost always temporary—of loving and ordered community. I want to suggest that this sense of harmony, of interdependence, of camaraderie is not meant to be an unusual highlight, a rare experience in our lives that we can look back on fondly. This is how we are meant to be; it’s something that we were created to experience. And to the extent that we find ourselves without this ongoing connection, this mutual belonging and harmony, our lives are less than what they should be.

Perhaps some of us have heard stories of how hard it can be for military veterans to return to civilian life. The reason often given for this is that it can be tremendously difficult to become accustomed to safety after experiencing the trauma of combat. And that’s true. But journalist Sebastian Junger argues that this doesn’t tell the whole story, because the majority of those veterans who struggle to readjust never saw combat. He says that when you look at the evidence, another, perhaps even stronger factor emerges. Those in the military were part of a team with a sense of purpose. Each had a role, each depended on each other; there was camaraderie. They tasted a kind of community. And then they returned back to the states and found themselves completely disconnected from others, lacking any clear role or sense of being part of something. And it just felt deeply wrong and unsettling.

Our society is asking questions about why depression and anxiety and drug addiction and suicide are increasing. Couldn’t it be, at least in part, that we were never meant to live the isolated, separate lives from each other that many are living today, and that people’s hearts are crying out for something different? Couldn’t it be, at least in part, that we were meant to be part of a shared purpose with others, a group of people in harmony with each other, an ordered, loving, community?

God’s Intent for Loving Community

This morning, we return back to Romans, picking up where we left off in June. And what I want us to see as we begin is that here Paul paints a picture of exactly this kind of community. “As in one body we have many members and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” A church family, he says, when it is functioning properly, is like a body. Every person is working together towards a shared purpose; each member, like parts of a body, depends on the rest; and each member has a specific and important contribution to make. In a healthy church body, different people serve or teach or do other things to help each other, each of them valuable and significant for the whole. And notice the mood, the passion Paul says a healthy church family experiences. Verse 8: the one who contributes, the one who gives of himself or herself, does it generously—that is, without ulterior motives. They’re not giving to look good or because out of guilt. They genuinely are seeking the good of the community. Those who lead do so with zeal: are not halfhearted or resentful—they are quick to fulfill their responsibilities in helping others. And when people show kindness to those in need in the body, they do it with cheerfulness—they are glad to express kindness.

This is what we’ve been talking about, right? This is a picture of a group where it all seems to click, where there’s a bond of love as every member belongs and has a role and participates in a greater purpose. And what Paul is saying is that this is meant to be ours. This is what Jesus intends for us. He has come into this world, not just to bring us back to God, although that’s central, but also to bring us back into a truly loving community. He wants this church increasingly to look just like that. And isn’t that what you and I want as well?

And this morning I want to ask how—what needs to happen for us to experience what’s being described here? How do we keep moving toward this kind of ordered, loving community?

And what our passage tells us is that what is absolutely central to this is a right sense of identity.

When a few months ago we looked at 12:2, we saw that one of the fundamental shifts that happens to us when we become a Christian is that our minds begin to change. There is a way of thinking that belongs to our society that forms us; but when we become a Christian, we begin to leave that way of thinking behind. It says that our minds begin to experience “renewal.” The Spirit begins to help us to see the world differently and to understand ourselves differently.

And in verse 3 Paul develops this idea. “I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment. When Paul says “think” here, he’s not talking about abstract reasoning, like you do when taking the SATs. The word here is more about mindset. It’s that way of seeing that shapes how you act. In this context, he’s talking about how we see ourselves, what in our modern day we often refer to as our sense of identity. Letting the Spirit change you, says Paul, involves allowing your sense of identity to change. It means letting go of our old, distorted sense of self and coming to a new understanding of our identity that is true and honest. 

Specifically, we are to let the gospel reshape our understanding of who we are. That’s what Paul means here when he says we are to think of ourselves “according to the measure of faith.” The word “faith” here is basically being used as a synonym for gospel, for what Christians believe. Paul is saying that a right understanding of our identity happens as we begin to measure ourselves with the truth of the gospel. 

To experience the community Jesus intends for us, we need to let Jesus change how we view ourselves.

Why is that? For us to experience that deep connectedness and joyful camaraderie why is it important to let Jesus change our sense of our identity?

The Problem

Well, let’s pause for a moment to consider why we’re in this problem in the first place. Why is loving community so hard? I mean, if that’s what we were made for, and if that’s what we all deep down want, why isn’t it much more common? At least part of the answer is that it’s really, really hard to navigate the relationship between the self and the community.

For most of human history, a person’s identity was defined BY his or her community. In a traditional society, my identity depends on honoring my relationships to others. Who I am is defined by my role. If I’m the son of a baker, my duty to my family and my duty to my community is also to be a baker and supply bread for the village. I will almost certainly live in the town I was born in, and depending on the society I’m a part of, my marriage might be chosen for me by my parents. My identity comes in “knowing my place” within the hierarchy and the status given by my community.

Now, there are some good things about this. In a traditional society, pretty much everyone belongs and has a sense of being part of a community. Connection to others is the default and loneliness is much less common. But yet, there is a reason why we don’t just go back to the good old days. Gaining your identity from the community has a lot of problems. A community can be unfair, unflexible, and even cruel. In society’s hierarchy, some are at the top, and some are at the bottom, and it’s a bummer if, for example, you’re a serf rather than a lord. And what happens if you were born to a baker but would be way better as a lawyer? More ominously, in traditional society, those in a position of less power are often exploited, abused, expected to endure all sorts of hardship. It is often not good to be defined by the community.

As a result, in the last century or so there’s been an increasing shift to a modern sense of self, where I get my sense of identity from within, from my self rather than a community, sometimes even in resistance against the community. We don’t let society hold us down; we follow our dreams! We don’t need people to tell us what to do; we listen to our heart! We won’t be bound by conventions and others’ expectations: we seek to be true to ourselves! All of that language is saying my sense of identity comes just from me.

There are some important positives that this change has accomplished. If I don’t belong to my community, if I am independent from it, it’s now more possible to name the communal problems of racism, sexism, abuse. There’s more space given to individuality, and more flexibility for different people’s gifts and desires. 

But the problem is—well the problem is that this simply doesn’t work. It doesn’t work, because identity isn’t something you can just create for yourself; our sense of who we are is necessarily relational. As Tim Keller writes, “In the end, we can’t say to ourselves, “I don’t care that literally everyone else in the world thinks I’m a monster. I love myself and that is all that matters.” That would not convince us of our worth, unless we are mentally unsound. We need someone from outside to say we are of great worth…Only if we are approved and loved by someone whom we esteem can we achieve any self-esteem.” (Keller). I need someone outside of me to come to know who I am.

And, as long as each of us has “self” as the center of who we are, how do we actually become that community we want to be? Have you ever been part of a group where it felt like each person was just focused on their own needs, their own desires, each person promoting themselves? It’s miserable. Again, quoting Keller, “But when, as in the modern approach, you bestow significance on yourself, then your individual interests are more important than any social tie. If a relationship is satisfying to you, you keep it only so long as it pleases you… Human communities become thinned out into “lifestyle enclaves” or “social networks” in which people connect, flexibly and transiently, only to people like themselves. They relate to one another around similar tastes in music or food, but their private and public lives are no one else’s business. It is well documented that under the conditions of the modern, individualistic self, social ties and institutions are eroding, marriage and family are weakening, society is fragmenting into warring factions, and economic inequality is growing.” Putting self at center instead of community is also a dead end. And that’s where we are today.

Do you see the connection between having a right sense of identity and having a healthy community? If I gain my identity from my community, then who I am can get lost and I can be exploited by the community. But on the other hand if I pull back and try to gain my sense identity from within; I still don’t really gain a sense of self, because I need others to do that, and I also become disconnected from the community.  

A Better Way

But Paul tells us that there is a third, better option. Whether you get your sense of self from your community or from within, either way you will have a wrong understanding of your identity. You were not meant to belong to your community, and you’re not meant to belong to yourself. Who you are at your very core is someone who belongs to God, and your true identity is found in him. When you view yourself through the lens of the faith, of the gospel, you will see what you really are. You are someone who belongs to Jesus and is deeply connected to him, and you are recipients in Jesus of God’s grace.

We say it all the time at Trinity, right? “I am not my own, but I belong body and soul, in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus.” That is our identity; that is what it looks like to think of ourselves with sober judgment. I belong to Jesus, and through him I receive God’s grace. It is only when we come to view ourselves in this way does true and lasting community really become possible.    

Let’s look again at the body metaphor of verses 4 and 5: “For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” Notice, in this description the detail here that most defines us. Yes, we are part of a community, part of a body. But what is central here, what puts us into this web of relationships is the fact that we are in Christ. He, you might say, is our head. He’s the one we belong to, the one we serve, the one who we look to in order to gain our sense of who we are. 

The only way to experience a truly loving community is to maintain this order. Remember how Romans 12 begins: before we get to any language in verse 4 and following about how we are connected to each other, it begins in verse one by calling us to offer ourselves to God and allow ourselves to be changed by him. Likewise, in 2 Cor 8:3, Paul speaks about the generosity of the Macedonian Christians and he says, “They did it right, because they gave themselves first to the LORD, and then, by the will of God, to us.”

We first give ourselves to God in Christ—Jesus is our head, in whom we find identity.

Why is that so important? 

Well, consider what happens if we forget this, and we just think of ourselves as belonging to the church community. Do you see the danger in this? Church communities that forget this can ask too much of its congregation and burn people out, saying, you need to just suck it up, because you need to serve the church. Even worse, we might be aware of situations where people in positions of leadership have been abusive, but individuals are afraid to speak openly about the problem because they don’t want to hurt the church that they belong to and gain their identity from.

But if it’s to Jesus you belong, rather than the community, we have a protection from losing ourselves in this way. Because God in Christ Jesus knows each of us perfectly and is committed to making us into who we are. As long as we remember that it’s to Jesus that we belong, we have protections from being exploited. God doesn’t need anything from you: his relationship to you is one of grace, of love. Jesus says, “My yoke is easy, my burden is light.” When you belong to Jesus, that allows you to say no to the demands of others.

And it’s not just that Jesus protects us from unhealthy community. He also gives us the capacity for truly good community. Belonging to Jesus doesn’t just set us on our own—it’s just me and Jesus living the good life. This is a common mistake in our day, right? To think of my relationship with Jesus as something private, something solitary. But the reality is that the moment I trust in Jesus and become connected to him, he gives me an extraordinary gift. I become a member of his body. Being a member of his body becomes part of my identity. I am not simply a private individual. Because in Jesus, I am placed into his community and given the capacity in it to love within it. “We, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” 

Take a moment to look around and notice the other people here. If you are a part of this church, part of who you are is someone connected to the rest of us. We are on the same team—no, it’s more than that—we’re the same family. Except it’s even deeper than that—because of our connection to Jesus, we’re the same body with each other. 

And it’s not simply that we’re put in connection to each other. God gives each of us the power to love and serve this body in an important way. Notice how Paul speaks in verse 3: “By the grace given to me, I say.” He’s saying, “God gave me a gift of teaching the gospel so that I could love you by sharing it.” And then in verse 6 he goes on to say the very same thing about you and me: “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given us, let us use them.” In other words, God has given you and me distinct abilities and passions and opportunities so that we can love each other meaningfully by sharing them. And when we do, because all of these gifts come from God, we get to experience God’s kindness together through each other. Think of that: as you share your gift with the church body, serving, teaching, showing kindness, whatever, we experience God and his love through you.

Just as every part of the body relies on the rest, so also with us. I need you and your contribution to the body, and you need me. We are an ordered community that depends on each other.

This is how it works in the body of Christ.

Returning briefly to the question we raised earlier, a few years ago the Pew Research center did a study on what factors most made a difference in helping veterans re-enter civilian life. Among 18 factors they polled veterans about, there was one factor that was seen as most significant—more than twice as beneficial as the next one. What was it? That they regularly participated in religious services. And I suspect a big part of the reason was that in church people experience Christian community.

To be clear: community as God intends it doesn’t happen all at once, and until Jesus returns, as we know all too well it doesn’t happen perfectly. But I would suggest, however flawed it might be, that when we look around us, we are seeing it happen even here. And what drives it, what makes it possible is Jesus. What makes it happen is us finding a new and truer identity, not in our community, and not in self, but in Jesus, the one we belong to and the one who saves us.