One of my scholarly and pastoral agendas over the years has been to try to augment the idea of me-and-Jesuswhich is so dear to the hearts of Western evangelicalswith the idea of us-and-Jesus, a concept that also fills the pages of the New Testament.

When Paul, for example, uses a first-person possessive pronoun with the word Lord in his letters, he writes my Lord (singular) only once (Philippians 3:8). But he writes our Lord (plural) 53 times. When Paul thought about the Christian faith, he apparently thought in terms of us-and-Jesus more often than he thought about me-and-Jesus.

We see a similar phenomenon in the Gospels. Jesus calls his disciples not only into a relationship with him. They are called to become part of Jesus group, as wellpart of the surrogate family of faith that Jesus is gathering around himself. We find both emphasesme-and-Jesus and us-and-Jesusthroughout the pages of the New Testament. Yet us-and-Jesus does not seem to get as much attention in our pulpits and classrooms as it does in the Bible.

Perhaps an analogy will help. I jog on the beach for exercise. My hometown (Hermosa Beach) is quite affluent, so I often run past people who can afford to pay others to guide them through their workouts on the beach. The sociology of these training sessions varies. Some folks hire a personal trainer who disciples them one-on-one in their exercise program. Others (presumably with less discretionary income) belong to groups of people led by a trainer of some sort. A Pilates class I often see when Im jogging is an example of the latter arrangement.

The point here is that the dynamics the Christian life are more like that experienced by a student in a Pilates class than a guy with his personal trainer. The Pilates student relates to her instructor as part of a group. We relate to Jesus as part of his family.

Every such analogy, of course, ultimately breaks down. My relationship with Jesus is much more personal than a persons relationship with their Pilates instructor. (You wont find a Pilates instructor who knows what you need before you ask!) And its also the case that my relationship with my fellow-Christians is (or ought to be!) a whole lot closer than interpersonal relationships among those who attend a twice-a-week exercise class. Analogies only go so far.

But I think you get the point. Western evangelicals tend to think of Jesus as a personal spiritual trainer with whom we interact alone, apart from relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Unlike Jesus and Paul, we focus a whole lot more on me-and-Jesus than upon us-and-Jesus. And this overemphasis on me-and-Jesus tends to encourage, in turn, a highly experiential, subjective approach to the Christian life.

The result of all this, I suggest, is a rather wimpy and ultimately disappointing caricature of biblical Christianity. For to preoccupy ourselves with me-and-Jesus, almost to the exclusion of us-and-Jesus, is finally to produce an individual with an experience, rather than a community with a mission. As Keith Green quipped a number of years ago, when Jesus returns and all acclaim him, we won't be saying "King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and Personal Savior!" (Thanks to Dr. Gary Manning for that zinger of a quote.)

We must, of course, avoid false dichotomies. A child of God who is a vital part of a community with a mission will experience Jesus as never before. But lets keep our priorities straight on this one. Jesus didnt leave me with a great experience. He left us with a Great Commission.