And They Had All Things In Common

Last weekend I found myself in an unexpected situation. I was visiting a friend, Jeremiah, in Ypsilanti, Michigan, and he was in the process of finding a church. He goes to Eastern Michigan, and had found what he believed to be the church he'd heard about that many students went to. We pull into the parking lot, a few students mingling around, and start to head to the church. We were 9 minutes early, and like so many other services I've been to, people didn't actually show up until about 1 minute before the service started. I still can't fathom how people manage to time it so well.

We walk in and a woman greets us and lets us know we're early. "Only by 9 minutes, though" I say, and ask where we're supposed to be, as this is our first time here. She points down the hall and says the sanctuary is down there, so we go in and take a seat in the fourth row.

We're saying "Hi" to everyone we pass, and a few people come to us, somehow knowing we're new to the church (it was rather small, so this was no surprise), introducing themselves and finding out a little about us. Everyone is extremely friendly, but I'm having a very difficult time with names. In fact, it seems like everyone we've met is Chinese.

Then we're handed a program, and sure enough, it's a Chinese Lutheran church, with half the program being in Chinese. For a second I considered suggesting to Jeremiah we find a 11 o'clock service somewhere, feeling that we were imposing, both of us obviously not Chinese. That quickly went away with the realization that God had most certainly led us here, and I wanted to know what He was going to show us.

The service was amazing. The worship was amazing. There were some there who were singing in English, some in Chinese, all in unison with the hymnal having both languages to the same music. The people, especially the congregation, not only were acceptant, but embraced us. There also wasn't a politically correct atmosphere, as though people were trying to ignore the differences, pretend they weren't there. There was one moment where a person said something in Chinese and a translator standing up with him said, "Is there anyone new here today?" Jeremiah and I raised our hands, and there was some unashamed laughter, including from the people at the podium. It was remarkably comforting for me, and, I think, for Jeremiah. Yes, we were different, obviously so, yet it made no difference. We were brothers, and in Christ, no matter the differences in language, skin tone, nationality, or even culture, we had all things in common.

Acts 2 contains a remarkable statement in verse 44:

"And all those who had believed were together and had all things in common"

Shortly after Pentecost, there were people from "every nation under heaven"(Acts 2:5). Nations, cultures, not even language could pose a barrier for the church, for the Truth Christ gave us. Many of us have never experienced that. Our culture in the Western world seems to tell us we need to be separate, that the cultural differences of even our neighbors, because of nothing more than their skin color, are too great to be able to do things as one. Yet, as this verse shows, we, under the banner of the cross, all of us who believe can be together and have all things in common, not only material, but all things.