Being the Church

     They weren't attending church. They were being the church.
     That distinction matters more than we might realize. When three thousand people responded to Peter's sermon on the day of Pentecost, they didn't sign up for a weekly religious service. They entered a new way of life. And what Luke describes in Acts 2:42-47 isn't a program or a strategy. It's a portrait of what happens when the Spirit creates community.
     We tend to read this passage with a kind of wistful nostalgia. The early church seems so far removed from our experience that we treat it like a golden age we can admire but never recover. Or we swing the other direction and turn these verses into a checklist, as if we could manufacture authentic community by doing the right activities in the right order. Both approaches miss the point. Luke isn't giving us a template to copy or a memory to treasure. He's showing us what the Spirit produces when people give themselves fully to Christ and to one another.
     The passage opens with a single verb that controls everything that follows. They devoted themselves. The Greek word is proskartereo, and it means to persist obstinately, to hold fast, to be steadfastly attentive. Luke uses this same word to describe the disciples' prayer before Pentecost and the apostles' later commitment to prayer and the ministry of the word. It's what the people of God do when they mean business. These believers weren't experimenting with Christianity. They weren't fitting Jesus into their existing lives. They were all in.
     And their devotion had specific objects. Luke lists four: the apostles' teaching, the fellowship, the breaking of bread, and the prayers. The definite articles matter here. This isn't generic teaching, casual fellowship, ordinary meals, and occasional prayer. Luke describes something specific, something structured, something central to the community's identity.
     The apostles' teaching came first because it formed the foundation for everything else. These were not self-appointed teachers offering their own opinions. They were authorized witnesses transmitting what Jesus had taught them. The content included the meaning of Jesus' death and resurrection, the proper interpretation of Old Testament prophecies, and practical instruction for living as God's people. The church was built on apostolic teaching from its very first days. A community that neglects sound doctrine will eventually lose its way, no matter how warm its fellowship or sincere its worship.
     But teaching alone wasn't enough. They also devoted themselves to the fellowship. Koinonia means shared participation, a common life rooted in common faith. This was more than friendship or social connection. It was the recognition that belonging to Christ meant belonging to one another. They didn't just believe the same things. They were bound together in ways that reshaped their daily existence. The fellowship had both a vertical and horizontal dimension. Their communion with God expressed itself through communion with each other. You couldn't have one without the other.
     The breaking of bread points to the centrality of shared meals in early Christian practice. This almost certainly included the Lord's Supper, likely celebrated in the context of a full meal. Luke connects this phrase to the Emmaus road, where the risen Jesus was made known to two disciples in the breaking of the bread. The table was where theology became tangible. When believers gathered to eat together, they remembered Christ's death, celebrated his presence, and anticipated his return. The sacred and the ordinary were woven together. Eating was worship. Fellowship was sacrament.
     Finally, they devoted themselves to the prayers. Again, the definite article suggests something specific, probably set times of prayer that structured the community's daily rhythm. These believers continued attending the temple at the regular prayer hours while also gathering in homes for distinctly Christian prayer. Their dependence on God wasn't occasional or spontaneous. It was built into the fabric of their shared life.
     These four practices weren't options on a menu. They were essential ingredients of healthy church life. A community that neglects teaching will drift into error. A community that neglects fellowship will fracture into isolated individuals. A community that neglects the table will lose its connection to Christ's ongoing presence. A community that neglects prayer will rely on its own strength until it has no strength left. The early church understood that devotion to Christ expressed itself through devotion to these practices. There was no other way.
     But Luke doesn't stop with the practices. He goes on to describe the atmosphere they created. Awe came upon every soul. The word is phobos, often translated as fear, but it means something closer to reverential wonder. The presence of God through his Spirit was palpable. People noticed. Signs and wonders authenticated the apostles' message, and the community lived with a sense that they were caught up in something beyond themselves. This wasn't manufactured emotion or religious hype. It was the natural response to God being genuinely present among his people.
     This atmosphere of awe produced a remarkable unity. All who believed were together and had all things in common. Remember who these people were. The crowd at Pentecost included Jews from across the Roman world, speaking different languages, coming from different cultures. Yet the Spirit bound them together into a single body. Their diversity didn't disappear, but it was transcended by something deeper. They belonged to each other because they belonged to Christ.
     And this belonging expressed itself in radical generosity. They were selling their possessions and distributing the proceeds to anyone who had need. Luke uses the imperfect tense here, indicating ongoing action as needs arose. This wasn't a one-time redistribution or a mandated commune. It was voluntary, spontaneous, and continual. When believers saw others in need, they responded. They held their possessions loosely because they held each other tightly.
     We should be careful not to turn this into an economic system. The selling was voluntary (Ananias and Sapphira's sin in Acts 5 was lying, not keeping property). But we should also resist domesticating what Luke describes. These believers genuinely shared their resources with one another. Their faith had economic consequences. A gospel that doesn't touch our wallets hasn't really touched our hearts.
     The final verses describe the fruit of this devoted community. Day by day they attended the temple together and broke bread in their homes. Notice the dual rhythm: public gathering and intimate fellowship, large assembly and small group. They received their food with glad and generous hearts. The word translated glad and generous is aphelotes, which suggests simplicity and sincerity. There was no pretense, no calculation, no holding back. Their hearts were unburdened and open.
     And the result was praise to God and favor with the people around them. Authentic Christian community is attractive. These believers weren't trying to be relevant or culturally sensitive. They were simply being the church. And people noticed. The watching world saw something they couldn't explain, something that drew them in.
     The passage ends with growth. The Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. Notice the agency. The Lord added. Growth was God's gift, not human achievement. The church didn't have an evangelism program. They had a devoted community, and God used that community as the context for salvation. Mission wasn't something they did. It was something that happened when they were fully themselves.
     So what do we do with this passage? We can't manufacture what only the Spirit can create. We can't program awe or mandate generosity. But we can position ourselves to receive what God wants to give. We can devote ourselves to teaching, fellowship, table, and prayer. We can stop treating church as something we attend and start embracing it as something we are. We can hold our possessions loosely and our brothers and sisters tightly. We can structure our lives around daily dependence on God rather than fitting him into our schedules when convenient.
     The early church wasn't perfect. The very next chapters in Acts reveal conflicts and failures. But in these few verses, Luke shows us what the Spirit produces when people are genuinely devoted. It's a vision that inspires us and convicts us. It exposes how far we fall short and invites us into something better.
     The church has always been at its best when it stopped trying to be impressive and simply devoted itself to the basics. It's an invitation. The question is whether we'll accept it.