In the Gospel of Matthew, concerning the urgency of community, Jesus gives us this profound and provocative word: "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them" (Matt. 18:20, NRSV).

Is Jesus suggesting that he is absent when there is only one person, or that his voice is not to be heard in the midst of solitude? No, that is certainly not his point. But Jesus does seem to be communicating to us that a Christ-centered community is so important to the life of discipleship that we dare not attempt to live without it. Authentic community, according to Jesus, is not simply about conversation and fellowship. It is, rather, about creating a communal environment in which souls can intersect and the living presence of God can be experienced, encountered, and shared. Unfortunately, the church has been slow to embrace this biblical principle. In today's world, we tend to settle for an individual approach to discipleship.

In my own discipleship, weekly covenant community and accountability have been transformational. My covenant discipleship group has enabled me to escape from thinking that nobody cares about my soul. If we had the supernatural capacity to peer into a person's hidden thoughts, I am convinced that we would be amazed by the number of people in our culture and sanctuaries burdened by the thought that nobody cares.

Several years ago, while rushing to catch the underground train in London, I stopped in my tracks when I saw the words someone had spray-painted on the train station wall. In fluorescent pink was written: "Would anybody care if I disappeared?" I can't help but think that such an inquiry emerged from the belief that no one would hear us if we screamed; no one would bother to dry our tears if we wept; no one would ask where we were if we failed to show up; in other words, no one would care if we simply disappeared.

My covenant discipleship group has equipped me with the blessed capacity to respond to that spray-painted inquiry with a resounding "Yes!" Yes, somebody would care if I disappeared. Yes, somebody would rejoice with me in the midst of rejoicing and weep with me in the midst of weeping. Yes, somebody would care if I stopped showing up, or if I abandoned our coveant, or if I became content with stagnancy in the life of faith.

When I look into the gentle eyes of the men and women with whom I share covenant community, I am reminded of the fact that I matter, that my presence in the church is celebrated, and that the preciousness of my soul is recognized, even when I do not recognize that preciousness on my own.

My group has also taught me about the meaning of Christian discipline and the joy of Christian servanthood. The egocentrism in our culture would have us live life never looking beyond the parameters of our own needs and desires. Christ, however, calls us into a life so thoroughly transformed by the Holy Spirit that we stubbornly refuse to see anything less than the face of Jesus in the hurting, heartbroken souls whose lives intersect with ours. He calls us into a life where it becomes our deepest joy to connect with others through servanthood and ministry, simply to share with them the love we have come to experience in Christ.

Can we learn about that kind of servanthood on our own? It is unlikely. Servanthood, quite simply, requires the teaching and accountability that only a covenant community can provide.

Last summer, I traveled to a nearby farm with my covenant discipleship group. For the better part of a day, we picked corn and tomatoes for the Greater Pittsburgh Area Food Bank. That evening, as I stood in the middle of the cornfield, I remember thinking to myself, "There's no way on God's green earth that I would ever do this kind of thing on my own." In other words, if my participation in such menial ministry were solely dependent on my individual whims, I would always find a way to talk myself out of it. On that particular August day, however, there I was, picking corn and tomatoes for the sake of people who needed food. Why? Because my group had helped me understand the appropriateness of my servanthood there and had compelled me to recognize that menial ministry, for the sake of Christ, is time well spent.

As I looked upon the members of my covenant group that day, picking corn and sweating profusely, I heard Jesus' words whispering to me, "Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them."

Eric Park is the Minister of Seeker-Initiative Worship and Singles Ministry at Christ Methodist Church, Bethel Park, Pennsylvania.