Theological Reflections on Home Ownership, 6: Community
As I laid out in the previous posts of this series, to look at home or any property with a radically privatized view of it would be unbiblical. We see over and over again in both the Bible and in the writings of Christians throughout the centuries that God is a generous giver. We see this generosity in the love between the three persons of the Trinity, the acts of creation, the sustaining of life, the covenants with various people and peoples, the Incarnation, Jesus’ life, the sacrifice of the Crucifixion, the new life through the Resurrection, the impartation of the Spirit at Pentecost, etc. Moreover, the Bible is clear that anything we do have, or any capability to attain certain goods or capacities, originates from the generous hand of the Triune God. [1] In nearly every divine act of generosity detailed above, we see God creating community. Community is the second aspect of home Holt and Banks find in the New Testament. [2]
It is difficult to have a community without two things: hospitality and others. In our setting, hospitality has the tendency of becoming an opportunity to show off—either one’s possessions or one’s hosting skills (think of the Martha Stewart revolution) in order to impress others or move up the social ladder—and usually there is an expectation of reciprocity. Hospitality in the biblical sense, however, requires taking on a deeply vulnerable position. The willingness to bring people in and serve them regardless of their ability to reciprocate has consistently characterized biblical and Christian hospitality. The focus of the host is entirely on the guest. Jesus didn’t say much about what kind of food we should serve, but he clearly stated what hospitality should look like. In Luke 14.12-14, Jesus tells his host at a party,
When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous. (NRSV. See also: Mt 22.1-14; Lk 14.1-24)
While nearly all the ancient world would put our culture to shame in practicing hospitality, Jesus’ call to honor and give to those who could not return the favor was countercultural even in his day. The economy of the kingdom of God does not make much sense in our culture, which is, to borrow from Volf, “stripped of grace.”
Because the subtopics related to thinking Christianly about home ownership are so deeply related, we must return to ownership and property. We find a rich tradition of ownership within the Bible and Christianity that I believe is very communal, but not in a communist sense [3]. As I laid out in the post on ownership, the biblical understanding of property claims that all of creation belongs to God and we therefore act as stewards of that creation. Our call is to be faithful stewards who care for what we have been given and use that property in way that reflects God’s character. Since God is communal and gracious in nature, the way we use the property bestowed to us should also have a communal and gracious emphasis. Erika Haub writes about people choosing to live near each other and sharing things like washing machines. Her post is summed up by the wonderful phrase of her friend, “I just don’t believe that every person or household needs to have every thing.” Two of the Church Fathers challenge our notions of private ownership toward a more communal approach. John Chrysostom writes in his On Wealth and Poverty:
For our money is the Lord’s, however we may have gathered it. If we provide for those in need, we shall obtain great plenty. This is why God allowed you to have more: not for you to waste on prostitutes, drink, fancy food, expensive clothes, and all the other kinds of indulgence, but for you to distribute to those in need. [4]
Basil the Great pushes us even further,
The bread which you do not use is the bread of the hungry; the garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of him who is naked; the shoes that you do not wear are the shoes of the one who is barefoot; the money that you keep locked away is the money of the poor; the acts of charity that you do not perform are so many injustices that you commit. [5]
Perhaps the picture of hospitality and community I have quickly sketched goes too far. Many of us don’t even know our neighbors. When I moved to Sacramento with some friends, we held a housewarming party and invited our neighbors. They gladly showed up and interacted with each other really well. Many of them had lived on the block for years but had never met each other. I fear that my experience there wasn’t uncommon. Also, we find it difficult merely to bring people into our homes, even friends and family, let alone those who fall outside our normal circles of interaction. When we first moved to Los Angeles from Sacramento, I noticed how difficult it was to get invited to someone’s home or to have them come to our home (please read the next sentence before making a joke about my popularity). People weren’t unfriendly or unwilling to spend time together, but they would rather meet at a restaurant to have dinner or go to a bar to watch a game than engage in these activities in someone’s living space. I found that it did not matter in what social circle we met; it seemed that these men and women had at least a mild allergy to interacting with others in homes. This mentality has crept into me as well. In my better moments I say I’d rather meet at a restaurant because I don’t want to spend the time and energy preparing for and cleaning up after the meal. But really, I think I have allowed the fear of others into my life.
When we bring someone into our home, we are really letting them see our lives in a new light. Some people will look into our medicine cabinets. Others, like myself, will look at bookshelves and movie collections and draw some serious conclusions. I have been very strategic about the placement of books in the places I have lived. Novels go in the common areas like the living room. Theological books go in the study. And books that I am embarrassed to have, but kept because they were gifts, go in my bedroom or closet, the places that receive the least amount of public traffic. I can be judgmental when I see Bruckheimer or Michael Bay films on peoples’ shelves—so please hide them before I come over, or better yet, just throw them out; trust me, you’ll be doing yourself a favor. Opening our homes and sharing without expectation of reciprocity puts us in a vulnerable position and we live a world that while imbued with God’s glory, still reeks of sin and death. Many who have opened their homes to others have had some of their belongings broken or stolen. I am not arguing that we need to share haphazardly, but that Jesus’ words and example calls us to share in a way that is likely rather uncomfortable. Certainly his words and example goes against many of our culture’s messages.
As I have stated in this series, a biblical view of home is that it is a place of safety. I think that those texts push us to expand who we bring into that safe realm. We don’t shut ourselves in and protect ourselves at all costs from outsiders. Rather, we bring outsiders into our homes; in a sense, adopting them into our families as God adopted us and brought us into the communal love of the Trinity through Jesus. I think it is fine to think of home as a place of retreat and as an introvert, I understand the necessity of solitude. But retreat cannot encompass what home is meant to be. The incarnation of Jesus and the gift of the Holy Spirit shows us over and over again the God’s value of moving forward. God makes his home with us, among us. We need to think of how we live in similar terms.
I hope that I have laid out an argument that shows how the home, when rightly understood and employed with a kingdom focus, can be communal. Not communal in merely the sense that there is a common holding of the property—though that may be the case—but biblically communal in the sense that it is directed towards others.
Questions for discussion:
What are your thoughts and feelings about hospitality? Do you find it difficult to invite others into your home? Who does come over to your home? How do you view your possessions? Can you think of using them in a manner that is in line with the values of God’s kingdom? Do you know your neighbors?
Notes:
[1] For a wonderful exploration of God’s generosity and what kind of life he calls us to, I recommend Miroslav Volf’s Free of Charge: Giving and Forgiving in a Culture Stripped of Grace. See especially the first half of the book, which covers giving.
[2] Simon Holt and Robert Banks, “Home,” The Complete Book of Everyday Christianity (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997), 489-490.
[3] Communism believes in communal property as it sees one holding any private property is akin to a proletariat slavery by the bourgeois. Therefore, private property is to be abolished. (See: Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, The Communist Manifesto, Chapter 2:Proletarians and Communists.) Similarly, Engels holds that the goal of one’s work with whatever property exists is for the common good. (See, Engels, The Principles of Communism, Principle 8: In what way do proletarians differ from serfs?) This isn’t very far from Christian values, but the end and focus are different. For Christians, the goal for all work and activity are directed towards God and his kingdom. The results may look similar since God has proven to be so generous and focused on others, but there is a real difference in our assumptions.
I do think that the Bible has room for property privately held, but I want to be careful to not couch the Bible’s understanding of property in the terms of contemporary economic debates, i.e., the debates of communism and socialism over and against capitalism. To do so would be to commit an anachronistic error. I will say that while biblical texts do hold to an idea that private property can and does exist in God’s framework, the texts also challenge our ideas of who is the ultimate owner of that property as well as our notions of what it means to hold that property.
[4] St. John Chrysostom, On Wealth and Poverty, trans. Catharine P. Roth (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1984) 49-50.
[5] Saint of the Day, January 2. It should be noted that Basil is considered one of the founders of the monastic movement within Christianity. While I do not think God calls all to a monastic lifestyle, I believe we can learn and should adopt much from our brothers and sisters who have taken vows of poverty and communal living.


Some good thoughts. Perhaps another reason for the loss of hospitality and the communal use of home is the overstimulation of our consumer, success, entertainment saturated lives leaves little time or energy to practice communal hospitatlity.
On my reading list is the book, “Untamed Hospitality: Welcoming god and Other Strangers” by Elizabeth Newman. I’ve just started reading it but it seems she is addressing the same issue somewhat.
Comment by Dan — June 20, 2007 @ 7:46 pm
Thanks for your comment, Dan. I think that you’re correct that there are many factors of modern life that lead us away from embodying true community and practicing real hospitality. Consumerism is a large beast that has a tendency to feed the worst parts of ourselves and our economy. It used to be called gluttony, but we don’t like to employ that word much anymore. My fear is that we in the church have allowed consumerism to become a dominant if not the dominant narrative in how we approach our lives. We have allowed everything, including the way we see ourselves, to be commodified.
Comment by Tyler Watson — June 21, 2007 @ 11:41 am
Really encouraging stuff.
“Jesus of the Cul-de-Sac” in this month’s Sojo underscores your concerns in the series.
Comment by Tom Pratt — June 21, 2007 @ 7:23 pm