If I Got Jesus, Do I Really Need All These People?

If one falls down, his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. [Ecclesiastes 4:10-12]

Writing can create the illusion that you’re involved in a mostly solitary endeavor.

I always try to visualize a group of four or five people as the audience—enough for a discussion, not so many that they become faceless. I imagine that I’m listening to their voices and reactions as I edit. But in the end it’s still just me and the keyboard, and frankly I’ll be worried if those imaginary audience voices become a bit too real.

I actually like solitude, working at home with nobody but the dog to talk to. I prefer to cycle alone because it’s some of my best thinking time. I think I’m wired to spend a lot of time by myself.

I think it’s important to be comfortable with only yourself for company. I haven’t always been able to spend time alone. For much of my first thirty-five years I filled my time with people—any people—simply to avoid having to spend time with my own thoughts and failures and guilt.

Seems like the culture tells us that it’s all about socializing, networking, and connecting with as many folks as possible. And if we are alone, there’s the Internet to provide those virtual relationships. We’ll take any company, even bad, boring, or dangerous company, to avoid being alone.

But while a good relationship with yourself is important, it’s not enough. I need to guard against the tendency to become excessively solitary.

When Genesis states that we were created in God’s image, I think it’s telling us that we are creatures of relationship. God has lived forever in the relationship of the Trinity, and I think that’s the model for us. To be healthy and whole, we require intimacy with ourselves, with others, and with God—a cord of three strands.

I’m not sure if that what the writer of Ecclesiastes meant, but it’s a pretty good analogy that makes sense to me. One cord—myself—won’t withstand much strain. Two cords—myself and others—that’s better, because we can help each other.

But three—myself, others, and God—I believe that’s how we’re all at our best.

Some folks think they can do Christianity by themselves, but I think they’re missing an important part of the message. “Just me and Jesus” isn’t the model. In fact, perhaps my favorite part of Relentless Grace uses an analogy called The River to explain a powerful encounter with this notion.

Relationships with other people are messy and frustrating. Church families can be dysfunctional and often downright hurtful. It’s easy to imagine that it might be better to just go off with my dog and my bible (and my computer, of course) and leave the difficult people behind.

But those “difficult people” are precisely the ones Jesus told us to love. In Colossians 3:13 Paul writes, “Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

It’s pretty hard to “bear with” and “forgive” others unless I’m willing to engage with them. Following Jesus isn’t a solitary endeavor. We’re meant to travel the path with others.

I guess I’d better back away from the keyboard and talk to someone besides my imaginary friends and the dog.