One of my scholarly and pastoral agendas over the years has been to try to augment the idea of “me-and-Jesus”—which is so dear to the hearts of Western evangelicals—with 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 well—part of the surrogate family of faith that Jesus is gathering around himself. We find both emphases—“me-and-Jesus” and “us-and-Jesus”—throughout 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 I’m 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 person’s relationship with their Pilates instructor. (You won’t find a Pilates instructor who “knows what you need before you ask”!) And it’s 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 let’s keep our priorities straight on this one. Jesus didn’t leave me with a great experience. He left us with a Great Commission.