But we are deceived if we think we’re free because we have no commitment. In reality, Christians who think they’ve made no commitments, who believe themselves free, are slaves to the worst kind of obligation: commitment to self. All of our personal histories should be enough to convince us that the First Christian Church of Me is a lousy place for accountability, encouragement, and support.

We live in a commitment-averse society. Single people are delaying marriage until later and later in life, and lowering their expectations for marriage. And while a few generations ago, careers were rooted in a company and workers had a strong sense of corporate loyalty, today people change jobs every few years. We avoid the burden of commitment at every opportunity.

Yet we celebrate a gospel that begins with a radical, unshakeable commitment toward us. As Jesus tells us:

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one. (John 10:27–30)

Through Jesus, God has promised to be there for us, to protect us, to let nothing separate us from him (see Rom. 8:29–30, 35–39).  Jesus has made us family. A family that is committed and has certain responsibilities to one another. As Jesus has promised to look out for us, he calls us to look out for one another. James tells us:

My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins (James 5:19–20).

This commitment is mutual. By committing myself to the local church, I’m committed to a body of people that is, in turn, committed to me. Today in the church, this commitment is most often signified through what we call “membership,” but at its core, it’s a promise to look out for one another, a way of saying, “I’m in, I’m about this, and I want us to mutually journey together toward Jesus.”

We resist making such statements because we love the sense of comfort and freedom we feel from a lack of commitments. At its heart, this sense of freedom is a mask for consumerism. It’s an attitude that allows us to drift from church to church, from one big thing to the next, chasing fads and hype without setting down any roots. And without roots, we’ll never go deep. We take and we take, and we never give, we never contribute, we never say, “I’m in.”