Life in community is, Normal. It is the exceedingly plain, the 'good mornings,' 'good evenings,' and 'whatcha' doing today...'
It is in the Ordinary that we find something about ourselves. We grow closer until the space between us disappears and with think, 'my God, I love these people."
There's nothing more glorious, more grand than the communion of believer, met with belief and doubt, peace and chaos. God is seen in community.
I can't decide if relationships are the antidote of binaries or the antithesis. If the tensions and the joys are locked some sort of cosmic battle or in progressing glory. In a way the fondness and closeness seems inseparable to the agonizing months, the days crying, the weeks angry. Something bad is what shapes the good. Like plaster molds shaping porcelain only to be crushed and flaked away. A worthless, and broken thing, doomed to be broken and ripped away is crucial to making what we know as community. I don't want to be a community member leaning in one direction or the other in order to counteract something, at the cost of furthering a culture of reaction rather than reality.
So what is it? Is it normal or extraordinary? Is it grand or grotesque?
For those who've experienced the transcendence of community most eventually shrug and just say it just was. Because 'it' was so many things. The people they know best and who know them best are most detailed with faults. That something so great in its whole consists of a bunch of stories about stomach flues, watching movies on laptops, lonely Christmases and fights about doing dishes. But when it happens it happens, and something catches your eye when you realize 'this is it,'
and maybe 'this' is love.