When I picked up When the Church Was a Family by Joseph H. Hellerman, I wasn’t expecting it to wreck me the way it did.
The whole idea of the Church being a family is one I’ve heard a hundred times. But I always kind of smiled, nodded, and kept my heart guarded. Because if you don’t come from a healthy family or you’ve been hurt by a church, those words can feel more threatening than comforting.
Still, this book made me face something I’d been avoiding: I wasn’t living the way Jesus intended for me to live within the Church. And not because I didn’t want to—but because I didn’t know how.
Church Was Never Meant to Be Individualistic
Hellerman opens with a pretty bold claim: the modern church has lost its way when it comes to community. And he’s not wrong. We sit in rows, focus on our personal sin. We keep our struggles private, thinking healing is something we’re supposed to do in isolation.
But the early Church wasn’t like that. Not even close. They lived life together. Not just in potlucks and Sunday services—but with deep, family-like loyalty and sacrifice. They saw each other as true brothers and sisters in Christ.
“Personal sin and selfishness have been around since Adam. Why the marked increase in relational breakdown in our society and in our churches today?”¹
It’s not just about morality. It’s about isolation. And Hellerman calls it out.
What If I’ve Never Had a Healthy Family?
Here’s where I wrestled.
I love the vision of the Church as a family… but what if the word family doesn’t feel safe to me?
Hellerman says, “A person who cannot get along with people is simply immature in his spiritual walk.”² And while I don’t disagree, I found myself asking: But what if I was never taught how to get along with people in a healthy way?
When you grow up with betrayal or abandonment or you’ve been burned by churches in the past, it’s hard to believe that anyone will actually show up for you. It’s hard not to project that pain onto the people sitting in the pew next to you.
I wish the book had explored that side more. I think it’s something a lot of us deal with quietly. If we’re supposed to do life together, shouldn’t we learn how to walk people through that kind of trauma?
My Walls Were My Idol
This part’s hard to admit: I had built such strong emotional walls in the name of “protecting myself,” that I wasn’t letting anyone in—not even my own church family.
And it hit me hard when I read this:
“The priority of sibling relationships in the strong-group family model…”³
“…the most treacherous act of human disloyalty in an ancient family… was the betrayal of one’s brother.”⁴
I realized I had been keeping my distance from the people God had placed in my life—not just out of fear, but out of pride. My hyper-independence wasn’t a strength. It was a wound I hadn’t let Him heal.
God Wants More For Us Than Survival
Since reading this, my whole posture toward community has shifted.
I don’t want to just sit in a seat anymore – I want to belong, to know and be known. I want to love people like they’re family even if it’s messy. Even if it takes work. Even if it terrifies me sometimes.
Because this is the life God designed for us. Not surface-level smiles and Sunday handshakes. But real, connected, grace-filled relationships.
I’ve started rethinking how I show up in my church. I’m taking risks. Starting conversations. Letting people in. And I’m watching God heal things in me I didn’t even know were still broken.
If this post hit home—if you’re craving real connection but unsure how to start—I want to invite you in.
I host a live Bible study every Saturday on Zoom where we show up honestly, dig into Scripture, and grow together as the kind of church family Jesus had in mind.
Click here to join us—you don’t have to figure out community alone.
Sources
¹ Joseph H. Hellerman, When the Church Was a Family: Recapturing Jesus’ Vision for Authentic Christian Community (Nashville, TN: B&H Books, 2009), 4.
² Ibid., 196.
³ Ibid., 39.
⁴ Ibid., 40.
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