When “Community” Feels Conditional

I’ve always believed church community was supposed to be like family, something that goes beyond geography or convenience. You know, the kind of people who stick around even when you’re not in the same place anymore.

But lately, I’ve started to wonder if what we often call community is sometimes more about proximity.

I was part of a church in Singapore for about two years. I served, showed up, built friendships, all the things we’re told to do to “find community.” Then I moved to Sydney and was part of the church campus there. Honestly, it felt great. The people were warm, the cell group was welcoming, and I felt like I belonged.

Then life happened. Things didn’t go as planned, and I had to move back to Singapore.

When I got back, I reached out to some of my old church friends, people I used to serve with. We met after service one Sunday, and I shared a bit about what had happened back at home. The first response I got? “Oh, are you free to attend church conference this weekend?”

I said no, and that was that. No follow-up. No “how are you settling in?” Not even a text. Just silence.

It was disappointing.

Another similar incident happened with another church I was visiting in Sydney. I attended some of their connect groups and felt they were welcoming. When I returned to Singapore, I was still in their group chat just for community. One day, my cell leader messaged to ask if I was returning to Australia. I told her I wasn’t sure, but probably not anytime soon. The next thing I knew, I was out of the chat. Removed. No message, no explanation. Just gone.

That one really hit me.

I don’t think anyone meant harm. I think people just move on. But it made me ask some hard questions: Have we made church community something that’s only for the people who are “here and active”? Do we stop caring once someone can’t show up, serve, or contribute?

Because if that’s the case, then maybe we’ve missed something about what community is supposed to be.

The heart of the Church was never meant to be transactional. Jesus didn’t love people because they were available or useful. He loved them because they were His.

Real community doesn’t end when the chat group changes or when someone moves away. It checks in, it remembers, it still cares, even from a distance.

Maybe that’s what I’m learning right now: Community isn’t proven by how well we connect when life’s convenient, but how well we stay connected when it’s not.