A phrase is ascribed to Jesus in Matthew 18:20, in which he says, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them” (KJV). Most often when I hear this verse quoted, people use it to lament low attendance or participation. They are actually saying, “We’d like more people at our gathering, but I guess we’ll have to do with what we got.” The implication is that two or three is sufficient but still deficient. Whereas, I say, somewhat tongue in cheek, we’d do better by society to read the text as, “Where [no more than] two or three are gathered together.” Two or three are just fine. Any more and things are getting a little crowded. Jesus worked with twelve and did pretty well for himself.
At a certain point, the larger the crowd, the unholier the crowd, I say. Attempts at “large scale” have traditionally come with unintended consequences.
When do we begin to take seriously the role of “mass” in mass shootings? When do we begin to acknowledge the cold, impersonal, faceless options in our communities for engaging in the fundamental activity of human socializing? Our “third places” for gathering (that is, outside of work and home) are too big.
I don’t remember a mass shooting where only two or three were gathered. The one-room school house was not a breeding ground or target of mass killers. Small high schools prior to the perditious school consolidations that began in the 1960s and 1970s any continue today did not experience mass shootings. Following a recent school shooting, a student was interviewed who said, “We never expected this here. We are a small school. We only have 1,400 students.” Only 1,400 students? Heaven help us when a student body of 1,400 is considered a small school.
As far as I know, a mass shooting has never visited upon family and neighbors gathering in the living room to play music. Maybe there is an occasional slur uttered in response to a poorly attempted G-9 suspended. Maybe there is the occasional fistfight over unkind words said about Willie, Waylon or Johnny, but never violence on a massive scale.
I never saw a small republic of yeomen farmers engage in genocide (until it looked westward with a sprawling empire on its minds). I never saw a small bank bring down an entire economy. I never saw a small Appalachian landholder blow the top off a mountain.
We should become critical when a gathering or institution reaches critical mass. By that time, things are too big and out of control.
What about the efficiencies gained by the economy of large scale, they will say. They being that unseen, all-knowing, unassailable majority. We have sold our souls to their god of efficiency. We have sacrificed our schoolchildren at the altar of money-saving school consolidations that have turned so many public schools into massive cauldrons of nihilism and emptiness. We have given up our republican freedoms to the leviathan of violent empire. We have resigned from our sacred role as stewards of the earth in order to suck on the rotten fruits of a massive, throw-away economy.
As we continue to look for systematic, large-scale answers to the scourge in our land of mass shootings, military adventurism, corporate sleaze and government corruption, we would be wise not to dismiss as a solution the model of the Galilean. The way to abundant life is still the same as it has been for thousands of years. Small is just fine. The lilies are still blooming in all their splendor. The birds still sing, having managed to escape the drudgery of sowing and reaping that is so common to man. A social, psychological and spiritual richness is gained by smallness that is infinitely more profitable than acquisitions and mergers, consolidations, and wars of imperialism.
A great joy in life is to gather together with two or three, engaging in good work, simple fellowship, and any other variety of small forms of holy work. In their midst emerges a divine economy that is appropriately scaled for human happiness and flourishing.
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