Congratulations to John James, the recent victor in the House race for Michigan’s 10th Congressional district. James had previously run for U.S. Senate twice, nearly winning in 2020. It’s nice to see a solid, conservative candidate get over the finish line in a blue state.
A Case of Need
I was outside my home a few months ago when a neighbor across the street beckoned me over. We met halfway when she relayed the harrowing incident which had happened the day before. Donna, my next-door neighbor, had been working in her kitchen and had a blood vessel burst open after an encounter with a sharp blade. It was one of those freak accidents that could happen to anyone, though it’s especially frightening when it happens to an elderly woman who lives alone.
My wife and I had somehow missed the sound of the ambulance the night before as it came to transport her to the hospital. What struck me as even stranger is that Donna didn’t call 911 first; she called our neighbor from across the street. When Sherri came over and discovered the bloody mess that was Donna's kitchen, she called 911 for her. Thankfully, someone had the presence of mind to recognize that medical intervention was needed. Based on the grotesque photos on Sherri’s phone, it looked like it couldn’t have come a moment too soon.
Sherri and her husband took it upon themselves to go over to Donna’s to clean up the mess while she was in the hospital. They didn’t have any experience cleaning up blood, so I gave them a bottle of Resolve. The next morning I headed up to the hospital in the city to visit Donna. While she had a few relatives in the area who were aware of what was going on, she lives alone. Moreover, the entire situation was a little eye-opening for her—the fact that she didn’t realize how much blood she had lost. Thankfully, she was out of the hospital in just a few days. I had a follow-up visit with her to check on her and bring her a grocery item she needed.
Our Neighbors, Our Needs
What do people do when they’re in trouble? Who can they call? In a lonely and isolated age, a time in late modernity where statism hasn’t completely run out of steam, people seldom turn to neighbors and family. They often don’t know their neighbors. If they have family, they live far away, are busy, or perhaps not even on speaking terms.
I don’t want to paint too dire of a picture. Obviously, many people have a general sense that being a good neighbor is, well, good! It matters to have people who can somewhat keep an eye out while we’re on vacation for a week or so. It’s helpful when you have a reasonably familiar relationship with a neighbor. You can split the cost of removing a tree that straddles your properties, or you can get a reference for a good contractor. It can save a person hundreds of dollars to have a neighbor watch your pet while on holiday.
Even for people who don’t live side-by-side with others, we count ourselves fortunate to have friends and connections in our community who we can rely on for information, resources, or just to be there in a trying time.
Of course, the ultimate neighbors are family. They’re often under the same roof. And if not, you’re bound to have one or two nearby, whether you need to borrow a truck, get a ride to the airport, or have someone help mow the lawn when you’re recovering from back surgery. This isn’t even considering all the warmth and personal significance their presence brings to our lives.
Collectively, then, our web of social relationships comprises a substantial contribution to our lives. In many cases these contributions are difficult if not impossible to quantify. Nevertheless, they make our lives work.
Social Capital Counts
A vision of thick, authentic community is increasingly elusive in many areas of modern life. Just to be clear, I mean “modern” to include not just the last few years, but the last several decades. At least as far back as 1985, sociologist Robert Bellah was charting the decline of the sense of community in American life. Others have contributed to this analysis, most notably Robert Putnam in Bowling Alone (2000).
It seems uncontroversial, then, to say that deep community is either difficult to find, or people don’t even imagine it as a possibility. Some of this is due to the unfortunate circumstances into which people have been born. They’ve never experienced real community, so they can barely envision it. Others have been so captivated by an overly centralized view of the state that they can’t conceive of it as a possibility. On this latter score, I think here about the now infamous “Life of Julia” graphic-meme during the 2012 presidential campaign. From cradle to the grave, the Obama-Biden administration is here for you every step of the way.
I’m not the first to observe this, but what is conspicuously missing from the Life of Julia is family, extended family, civic organizations, classmates, co-workers, churches and other religious organizations, and even neighbors. It’s just Julia and the Obama administration. It’s just the individual and the state.
It should be abundantly clear how problematic this is. For all the talk about the death of democracy, authoritarianism, and attacks on liberalism, is it not clear how everything being reduced to the state and the individual aids and abets these woes?
Let’s not get carried away with Julia—that little campaign piece has been appropriately pilloried and buried. I’m interested in the profound value that our web of social relations brings to people’s lives, whether they be Christians or not. After all, we’re inherently social creatures by design. So in a sense, people at least can partially flourish as image-bearers by approximating a kind of love and manifesting a kind of concern for those around them.
I’ve written previously on this site about the experience of having a baby shower thrown for my wife and I as we anticipated the birth of our son. In my opinion, this type of communal exercise must be near the pinnacle of what it means to enjoy the benefits of social capital. Very simply, knowing and being in close relation to many people in many walks of life fosters a sense of well-being. We enrich others’ lives tangibly and intangibly, and they simultaneously do the same for us. Don’t misunderstand me. This isn’t a quid pro quo arrangement. To paraphrase the apostle Paul’s insight, “We seek not the gift but the fruit that accrues to others” (Phil. 4:17).
Yes, I benefit from others’ help and support. Yes, I am personally motivated to return the love and generosity when I have an opportunity. But in addition, those who have helped me will often feel a deeper emotional bond with me, as well as a sense of significance for having enriched the life of another human being.
Another way this dynamic of social capital has been experienced in my life is living the better part of 1000 miles from family. It has placed my wife and I in a situation where we’ve had to cultivate relationships in our midst. Being a part of a church has been central to this pursuit. We’re not just trying to manufacture a family; we’re a family by virtue of God’s Spirit. Nevertheless, there is an inescapable, voluntary aspect to this arrangement. There’s a choice not only to move to a place, but to give oneself to and belong to that place.
In the case of a church, we’ve chosen to give ourselves to a people, and they in turn have given themselves to us. In fact, the Free Will Baptist Church Covenant begins this way: “Having given ourselves to God, by faith in Christ, and adopted the Word of God as our rule of faith and practice, we now give ourselves to one another by the will of God in this solemn covenant.” Notice the profoundly biblical insight that we are not our own; we belong to God, and by extension, to His family.
This crucial theological insight has pervasive practical implications. Who can we count on to provide wisdom, insight, resources, and timely help? Each other. Add to this an expanding sphere of relationships outside of our church—including with many unbelievers—and our life is enriched in all sorts of predictable and unpredictable ways.
Consequences and Causes
Our church has a benevolence ministry through which we sometimes help people in the community with financial needs, such as utility bills, lodging, and the like. Probably the most common denominator linking the people who come for assistance is the lack of social capital. People have few friends, few family, few connections. I’m in no position to say how many of these people burned bridges through selfishness, carelessness, ignorance, or other sinful choices. Of course, I have no doubt that other people’s choices contributed to this state of affairs, too. Nevertheless, you must go forward from where you are.
Over the years I’ve tried to convey to some seeking assistance, “You know, we see you’re in a challenging situation. You didn’t get here overnight. You won’t get out of this mess overnight. Can we come alongside you and be of help to you?” In about 99% of these situations, the people have conveyed in word and deed, “Just help me with this bill and I’ll be on my way.” They choose to persist in the same autonomous, isolationist mindset that contributed to their misfortunes to begin with. It frustrates me. It makes me sad. But it also confirms a lot of good social science and Scripture: people need people.
As we survey the state of our neighborhoods, political policies, civic organizations, and church life, we need to keep a close eye on the dynamics which contribute to human suffering and human flourishing. We need to remain skeptical of top-down solutions, quick fixes, and impersonal answers to people’s hurts. Instead, Christians and unbelievers especially shaped by common grace need to insist that relationships matter, and then show as much in their social pursuits. As I’ve often taught our church, our service should be intentional, relational, and sacrificial.
I’ll be attending the annual meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society in Denver, Colorado this week. On Thursday, I’ll present a paper entitled, “Beyond Transformation: Reforming Cultural Engagement with an Eye Toward Grammar and Holiness.”
Currently Reading:
Douglas Groothuis, Philosophy in Seven Sentences: A Small Introduction to a Vast Topic.
Quote of the Week:
Contrary to so many bromides about the glories of unity, democracy is about disagreement. It’s about arguments. It’s about racking up temporary victories and recovering from temporary defeats. Democracy doesn’t deliver permanent solutions or eternal social justice. It’s a hedge against tyranny and a way to settle differences without resorting to the sword. And that’s good enough….