May 11, 2025
Of One Heart and Soul
Acts 4:32-37
32 Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. 33 With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. 34 There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35 They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. 36 There was a Levite from Cyprus, Joseph, to whom the apostles gave the name Barnabas (which means “son of encouragement”). 37 He sold a field that belonged to him, then brought the money and laid it at the apostles’ feet.
Let me begin by sharing an experience last week that left a deep impression on me. I was with my clergy group in Columbia, South Carolina. We are about 25 PCUSA pastors from around the country who meet twice a year at one of our churches. In Columbia, we visited a place called Camp Cole. Camp Cole is unlike any I’ve ever seen, made specifically to be inclusive of all people, regardless of illness, or disability, or life challenge.
They have over 200 specially designed beds, arranged in small cottages, with room for any medical equipment a child might need; a fully equipped medical facility to handle any needs onsite; a gym and recreation spaces for people of any physical ability; and a pool with a long ramp and handrail so that anyone can come into the pool in a way that is comfortable for them.
Their vision is to create a place where, “everyone, regardless of their circumstances, can connect, share, encourage, and shine.”1
And what was most moving was the story behind this camp. This extraordinary place arose from one family’s devastating loss: a child named Cole who died from cancer. Out of her grief, his mother advocated and rallied donors to create a camp where children, their parents, and adults could participate no matter their challenges.
Because this is Mother’s Day, it reminds me that the kind of mutual belonging embodied by Camp Cole is something we first experience, ideally, in the parent-child relationship. A healthy relationship between a parent and child embodies a natural mutuality—giving and receiving care that evolves over time.
A mother doesn’t calculate the cost of her care; she gives because, in a profound sense, the child is part of who she is. And as children grow, they don’t help their parents out of mere obligation, but because of this deep connection—this one to whom I belong also belongs to me. It’s mutual belonging.
This interweaving of lives, “one heart and soul” where everyone belongs and is met at their point of need, is what we encounter in our passage today from Acts 4. Luke, the gospel writer who also wrote Acts, says this about the early church: “Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul.”
The Greek phrase Luke uses to say that was not unique to the religious community. There is also discussion of this kind of “one heart and soul” shared existence in ancient philosophical writings. For example, Plato’s Republic (which is one of our oldest government textbooks) envisions a society where people reject the misuse of words like “mine,” “not mine,” and “alien” and instead reach for a shared mutual bond.
But ancient philosophers hoped that this might be accomplished through an ideal political system or a wise ruler. Instead, the early church saw this reality coming into being through the resurrection of Jesus and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.
They were a fledgling community. There were Galilean transplants, who were fishermen and farmers and peasants. There were Pentecost pilgrims who had traveled to Jerusalem from across the Roman world. After being caught up into this Spirit-created community, they needed to find a way to survive in the big city of Jerusalem. Sharing resources, and mutual belonging, was the key to their survival.
Some of the more prosperous members, like Barnabas and others, sold homes or land to support their fellow believers. They offered their proceeds to the apostles to manage and meet the needs of any and all.
In hindsight we might call this charity, but it went deeper than that. By selling and giving, Barnabas and others were handing over things that were more important to them than possessions. They were willingly handing over status, privilege, and security as well.
The text tells us “there was not a needy person among them” – everyone’s basic needs were met through this extraordinary sharing of resources.
Generosity and fellowship in the church are not just abstract concepts. Something far more profound is happening in this community. As one scholar puts it, “Believers are living out a commitment to belong to one another, and they recognize they must address the impediments to doing so.”
The theologian Willie James Jennings gets even more specific. He says that in this new Spirit-filled community, “Money…will be used to destroy what money is usually used to create: distance and boundaries between people.”
That’s the heart of it – this community, who is now one in the Christ – is dismantling the very barriers that normally separate people from one another.
We see this pattern throughout the book of Acts:
In Caitlin’s sermon last week, she showed us how, in Acts 6, the church reorganizes its leadership structure to ensure that the marginalized are not being overlooked in the daily distribution of food. They didn’t just create a task force, they created new leadership.
In Acts 9, we read about Tabitha, a woman who made clothing for widows, and through her sewing created deep bonds of friendship. When she died, the people whose lives she touched begged Peter to raise her back to life, which he did.
Meeting one another’s needs was not just a side project of the early church – it was a central expression of their mutual belonging in Christ.
This vision of community is compelling for us and deeply important for our modern lives. We struggle with the fundamental misconception that “we do not belong to each other.”
Our culture teaches us, and we embrace the narrative, that we belong to ourselves, to our spouses and children, to our neighborhoods or clubs, to our political affiliation or national citizenship – but not deeply and fundamentally to one another as human beings created in God’s image.
The barriers to belonging in our world are numerous and powerful. We separate into labels: social, economic, gender, political, racial, ethnic.
We separate into generations: the silent generation, baby boomers, gen X, millennials, gen z, gen alpha, gen beta (they’re in the nursery!).
We separate into family structures or life stages – singles over here, young families over here, empty nesters over here, elderly over here.
In all this grouping, we struggle to see Christ in each other, even in the church.
Some Christian voices today have attempted to tame the radical vision we see in Acts by arguing that our care for others should flow in concentric circles: first to family, then to neighbors, then to tribe, and only after that – and only if something is left over – to strangers.
I get it. A hierarchy of responsibility makes it feel manageable and reasonable. But this isn’t what we see in Acts. And it’s not what Jesus taught in the parable of the Good Samaritan.
The Samaritan didn’t stop to calculate whether the wounded man fell within his circle of primary responsibility. Jesus rejected the very question “Who is my neighbor?” by showing that loving your neighbor is about responding to the need of the person who crosses your path.
The early church caught this vision. They didn’t create tiers of belonging but recognized that in Christ, the old boundaries are transformed. We belong to one another.
I was struck this week that this vision of mutual belonging and bridge-building was echoed by the former cardinal Robert Prevost, now Pope Leo XIV.
In his first words from the papal loggia he said: “Without fear, united, hand in hand with God and among ourselves, we will go forward… You [can] help us to build bridges with dialogue and encounter so we can all be one people always in peace.”
Mutual belonging. Of one heart and soul.
We’ve seen glimpses of this kind of shared life in our own context.
In the outpouring of generosity after Hurricane Helene, money and resources like showers, housing, and food and water were used to break down barriers and create community. Meeting each other’s needs built bonds of belonging.
We will see it this summer in the record number of students coming to serve here with Asheville Youth Mission. Hundreds of students from around the southeast will use our facility as a home-base to serve in our city. And as they are coming to meet our needs, we have been preparing to better meet their needs.
Right now, the rooms they use in the education building are being painted and freshened up (it’s been decades since those rooms were touched) to extend a more radical welcome. At the end of May, you’ll see a shower trailer installed in the staff parking lot so they will have access to showers on-site.
And after this summer is over, the session is moving forward to install permanent showers in our building. Those are made possible by two grants from foundations, and the extravagant generosity of a member of this congregation.
Mutual belonging. Of one heart and soul.
We see this mutuality daily in the care that you give to one another in need. As one of your pastors, I’m get to hear the stories of how much this care means, and I’ve received it myself. When meals arrive and remove the burden of finding food, when flowers brighten the room, cards remind you that people are praying and you’re not forgotten, when visits break the isolation and open your world. Caring for one another shows that we belong to each other.
What we’re seeing in Acts isn’t some form of forced redistribution. It is voluntary participation in a Spirit-led community. The Spirit of Jesus leads believers to care for others, to share their possessions, and embrace mutual belonging.
As the church, we are called to bear witness to this vision of mutuality—of seeing the image of God in each other—as a witness to what the human community can be.
In a time when food and medical aid is being cut around the world, at the cost of human life, we are called to demonstrate and advocate for what can happen when we help meet each other’s needs.
In an age when global capitalism is concentrating wealth in some parts of the globe and poverty in other parts, we are called to advocate for an economy that advantages everyone, that benefits all – even as we model a community where everyone belongs.2
As in the motto of Camp Cole, a world where “everyone can connect, share, encourage, and shine.”
The question this story from Acts leaves us with – the question that so many of these stories from the early church leave us with is this:
Can we, like those early believers, allow our encounter with Jesus and God’s Spirit within to lead us into a life that looks like this?
Can we repent of our old ways of thinking, shaped by group or tribe or status or privilege, and move into a way of living that flows from our shared identity in Christ?
The skeptic in me wants to ask, “Did they really live like that?” It’s a fair question, because these stories display extraordinary self-giving. And the Ananias and Sapphira story, that comes right after this one, shows how fragile this vision and new life can be.
Our fear, our pride, our reluctance to truly belong to one another are more common than we care to admit.
Something allowed this diverse group to create new and strong ties that bound them to each other.
Something left them dissatisfied with lives governed by financial calculations, social transactions, and status-based privileges.
Something caused them to perceive their realities and each other differently.
That something was the Risen Jesus, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. That something was Easter.
Matt Skinner, a New Testament scholar, says: “Easter has a way of doing things to people. And that makes all sorts of things possible.”
What is the Spirit doing today? What does the Risen Jesus make possible?
What barriers might be dismantled if we more deeply embraced our identity as one people in Christ?
What needs might be met if we shared more freely because we belong to one another?
Easter can do things to us, if we let it. The Spirit is ready to make us of one heart and soul, if we let her.
I pray that we will continue to discover in the life of this congregation, for our own sake and the sake of the world, the deep joy, mutual sharing, and persistent hope that comes from belonging to one another in Christ.
Amen
Rev. Patrick W. T. Johnson, Ph.D.
First Presbyterian Church
Asheville, North Carolina