The Way Back to One Another: A Review of Koinōnia in an Age of Aloneness

The contemporary Western church finds itself in a paradox. It is more connected than ever through digital means, yet increasingly marked by fragmentation, loneliness, and relational shallowness. The Way Back to One Another (by Jeff Galley & Phillip Newell Smith) enters this tension with both clarity and conviction, offering a compelling diagnosis of what it terms “aloneness” and a corresponding call toward rediscovering interdependent, Christ-centered community.¹

This work is not merely sociological in its concern. It is profoundly theological. At its core lies the conviction that the human person is created for shared life, and that the church is the primary locus in which this reality is embodied. The authors argue that loneliness is not simply an emotional deficit but a disruption of God’s creational and redemptive intent.² This review seeks to affirm the strengths of the work while situating its claims within a broader biblical-theological framework, offering both edification and gentle admonition for the sake of the church’s formation.

NOTE: Scroll to the bottom for the YouTube X44 Author Interview


One of the most significant contributions of the book is its distinction between loneliness and what it calls “aloneness.” Loneliness may be understood as a subjective emotional state, whereas aloneness is a deeper ontological condition marked by the absence of meaningful, interdependent relationships.³ This distinction is not merely semantic. It reflects a theological anthropology that resonates deeply with Genesis 2:18, where the first “not good” in Scripture emerges prior to the entrance of sin.

The Hebrew term לְבַדּוֹ (levaddo) denotes not merely solitude but a form of existential isolation.⁴ The divine response is not the provision of information, structure, or even worship practices, but the creation of עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ (ezer kenegdo), a corresponding relational partner.⁵ As John Walton notes, this passage establishes relationality as intrinsic to human ontology rather than incidental to it.⁶

The authors rightly perceive that modern Western culture has normalized a form of existence that Scripture identifies as deficient. The church, rather than resisting this formation, has often accommodated it, offering proximity without participation and programs without presence.⁷ In this sense, the book functions prophetically, calling the church to repentance from a subtle but pervasive individualism.


The central constructive proposal of the book is the recovery of κοινωνία (koinōnia), a term that encompasses shared life, mutual participation, and covenantal belonging.⁸ While often translated as “fellowship,” its semantic range is far richer, denoting a dynamic participation in both God and one another.⁹

Acts 2:42–47 provides the paradigmatic expression of this reality. The early church is described as devoted not only to teaching and prayer but to a shared life marked by economic redistribution, daily presence, and communal meals.¹⁰ As Michael J. Gorman observes, this is not an optional expression of Christian life but its very essence, a participation in the life of the crucified and risen Christ.¹¹

The book captures this well, particularly in its emphasis on shared identity, shared purpose, and shared experience.¹² These categories reflect a lived ecclesiology that resists reduction to institutional forms. Instead, they call for a reorientation toward embodied presence and mutual dependence.


While the book is deeply aligned with New Testament expressions of community, it would be strengthened by a more explicit engagement with its Old Testament foundations. The rhythms of Israel’s life were structured around practices that cultivated relational interdependence.

The Deuteronomic festival tithe provides a striking example. Israel was commanded not only to give but to gather, to eat, and to rejoice together before the Lord.¹³ This practice functioned as a formative mechanism, shaping a people whose identity was inseparable from shared presence and celebration. As Christopher Wright notes, Israel’s economic and liturgical life was designed to reinforce covenantal solidarity.¹⁴

Similarly, the concept of חֶסֶד (hesed) underscores the covenantal nature of relationships within Israel. Hesed is not merely kindness but steadfast loyalty expressed in concrete action.¹⁵ It binds individuals into a network of mutual responsibility that reflects the character of God Himself.

The absence of these categories in the book does not undermine its argument but does suggest an opportunity for deeper theological grounding. The vision it articulates is not a novel innovation but a recovery of ancient covenantal patterns.


One of the most compelling aspects of the book is its insistence that meaningful relationships are formed not through affinity but through commitment. The narrative of intentional, sustained relational investment illustrates that depth emerges over time through shared presence and vulnerability.¹⁶

This aligns closely with the biblical concept of covenant. The Hebrew term בְּרִית (berit) denotes a binding relational commitment that persists beyond fluctuating emotions or circumstances.¹⁷ In the New Testament, this finds its fulfillment in the new covenant inaugurated by Christ, which establishes a community marked by mutual self-giving.¹⁸

Discipleship, therefore, cannot be reduced to information transfer or individual spiritual disciplines. It is inherently communal. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer argues, the Christian life is life together under the Word, where believers bear one another’s burdens and confess their sins to one another.¹⁹ The book rightly calls the church back to this reality, emphasizing that spiritual formation occurs within the context of shared life.


The pastoral implications of this work are both urgent and far-reaching. The loneliness epidemic is not merely a cultural phenomenon but a theological crisis. It reveals a disconnect between the church’s practices and its calling.

The authors offer a hopeful vision, but this vision requires costly obedience. It demands a relinquishing of autonomy, a willingness to be known, and a commitment to others that mirrors the self-giving love of Christ.²⁰ As N. T. Wright reminds us, the church is called to be the place where God’s future is brought into the present through a community shaped by love.²¹

At the same time, a gentle admonition is warranted. The recovery of koinōnia must be grounded not only in practical steps but in a robust theological framework that integrates creation, covenant, and new creation. Without this grounding, there is a risk of reducing community to a strategy rather than recognizing it as the very life of God shared among His people.


The Way Back to One Another offers a timely and necessary call to the church. It exposes the inadequacy of superficial connection and invites believers into a deeper, more demanding vision of shared life. Its strengths lie in its clarity, its accessibility, and its compelling portrayal of what authentic community can look like.

Ultimately, the book reminds us that the gospel is not merely a message to be believed but a life to be lived together. The church is not a collection of individuals but a covenantal people, gathered by God and sustained through mutual participation in His life.

If the church is to faithfully respond to the loneliness of our age, it must recover this vision. Not as an optional enhancement, but as the very essence of what it means to be the people of God.


  1. Jeff Galley and Phil Smith, The Way Back to One Another (IVP, 2025), 12.
  2. Ibid., 18.
  3. Ibid., 22.
  4. Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, 2:94.
  5. Genesis 2:18.
  6. John H. Walton, The Lost World of Adam and Eve (IVP Academic, 2015), 82–85.
  7. Galley and Smith, 31.
  8. BDAG, s.v. “κοινωνία.”
  9. Gordon D. Fee, Pauline Christology (Hendrickson, 2007), 45–47.
  10. Acts 2:42–47.
  11. Michael J. Gorman, Apostle of the Crucified Lord (Eerdmans, 2004), 284–289.
  12. Galley and Smith, 69.
  13. Deuteronomy 14:22–27.
  14. Christopher J. H. Wright, Old Testament Ethics for the People of God (IVP, 2004), 195–198.
  15. Nelson Glueck, Hesed in the Bible (Hebrew Union College, 1967).
  16. Galley and Smith, 68–70.
  17. Scott W. Hahn, Kinship by Covenant (Yale University Press, 2009), 27–31.
  18. Luke 22:20; 2 Corinthians 3:6.
  19. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (Harper, 1954), 21–30.
  20. Philippians 2:5–11.
  21. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Fortress, 2013), 1040–1045.

Rest, Hesed, and the Collapse of Babel: A Critical Review of The Sabbath Gospel

G. P. Wagenfuhr and Amy J. Erickson

In The Sabbath Gospel, G. P. Wagenfuhr and Amy Erickson offer a constructive and, at points, disruptive proposal: that Sabbath is not merely an ethical category within Scripture but the hermeneutical and ontological center of the gospel itself. Their work situates Sabbath within a broader narrative framework that reorders time, reframes divine sovereignty, and reconfigures the nature of salvation. In doing so, they join a growing chorus of scholars who resist reductionist soteriologies and seek to recover the relational, covenantal, and cosmic dimensions of biblical theology

The volume is ambitious. It attempts to relocate theological discourse away from abstract metaphysical starting points and toward the lived, narrative reality of God’s engagement with creation. The authors’ central contention—that Scripture presents a “Sabbath gospel” in contrast to humanly constructed “gospels of rest”—places their work in conversation with Walter Brueggemann’s socio-theological readings of Sabbath, John Walton’s functional ontology of creation, and Gregory Boyd’s cruciform account of divine action.²


Wagenfuhr and Erickson’s framing of Scripture as a “tale of two times” is one of the book’s most generative contributions. Time, they argue, is not a neutral container but a theologically charged medium shaped by competing sovereignties.³ This resonates strongly with Second Temple Jewish conceptions of “this age” and “the age to come,” as well as with Pauline apocalyptic categories in which time itself is enslaved under hostile powers.⁴

Their claim that time is qualitative rather than merely quantitative aligns with Brueggemann’s insistence that Israel’s calendar reflects a counter-imagination to imperial temporality, particularly in its resistance to endless production and accumulation.⁵ Likewise, their emphasis on time as relational and formative finds support in biblical narrative theology, where identity is shaped not by abstraction but by participation in God’s story.⁶

The authors’ reading of Genesis 1–11 through this lens is particularly compelling. They interpret the movement from Eden to Babel as a transition from divinely ordered time to humanly constructed temporality, a shift marked by increasing autonomy and fragmentation.⁷ This trajectory mirrors Walton’s argument that Genesis is concerned with functional order and sacred space, suggesting that Babel represents not merely disobedience but a misdirected attempt to establish sacred order apart from God’s presence.⁸


The treatment of Babel stands as one of the book’s strongest exegetical and theological achievements. Rather than reducing the narrative to moralism, Wagenfuhr and Erickson situate it within a broader ANE context of temple-building, cosmic geography, and political consolidation.⁹ The tower is not simply a monument but a symbolic center of power, an attempt to mediate divine presence through human construction.¹⁰

This reading aligns with ancient Near Eastern evidence regarding ziggurats as cosmic axes and with Mircea Eliade’s observations concerning sacred space as the “navel of the world.”¹¹ Yet the authors extend this insight by framing Babel as an archetype of empire—an enduring pattern in which human societies seek unity through uniformity and control.¹²

Here the influence of Jacques Ellul is evident, particularly in the critique of technological and political systems that claim autonomy and inevitability.¹³ The authors’ suggestion that modern appeals to diversity can function as mechanisms of homogenization is both provocative and worthy of further exploration.¹⁴

Importantly, God’s response to Babel is interpreted not as arbitrary punishment but as a redemptive disruption of false unity. The confusion of languages introduces diversity as a safeguard against totalizing systems, anticipating the reconciled plurality of Pentecost.¹⁵ This reading coheres with Acts 2, where linguistic diversity is not abolished but transformed into a medium of communion.¹⁶


At the heart of the book lies its redefinition of the gospel. Against what the authors describe as the “dream-home gospel”—the human impulse to construct environments of stability and control—they present Sabbath as a gift that cannot be produced or possessed.¹⁷ This reframing challenges both secular and ecclesial assumptions, calling into question the ways in which Christian practice can mirror the very systems it seeks to resist.

This emphasis on gift resonates with the broader biblical theme of grace as unmerited favor, as well as with theological traditions that emphasize participation over transaction.¹⁸ The authors’ insistence that the gospel reforms desire rather than merely behavior echoes Augustine’s account of disordered loves and aligns with contemporary discussions of formation and discipleship.¹⁹

Moreover, their portrayal of Sabbath as liberation from systems of exploitation reflects Brueggemann’s characterization of Sabbath as an act of resistance against Pharaoh-like economies.²⁰ In this sense, Sabbath becomes not only a theological concept but a political and social reality, challenging structures that perpetuate inequality and oppression.


The book’s hamartiology further strengthens its argument. By framing sin as a power that organizes entire “households” of existence, Wagenfuhr and Erickson move beyond individualistic accounts and recover a more holistic biblical perspective.²¹ This approach finds strong support in Pauline theology, where sin is depicted as a reigning force that enslaves humanity.²²

Their description of sin as an economy of death, exploitation, and corruption aligns with Second Temple Jewish literature and with modern theological accounts of systemic evil.²³ It also provides a coherent framework for understanding the relationship between personal sin and structural injustice, a connection often neglected in traditional theology.


Perhaps the most controversial aspect of the work is its critique of classical theological starting points, particularly the emphasis on aseity. Wagenfuhr and Erickson argue that Scripture does not begin with abstract descriptions of God’s essence but with covenantal relationship, encapsulated in the concept of hesed.²⁴

This claim is not without merit. The Hebrew Bible consistently portrays God in terms of faithful action within history, and the repeated covenant formula underscores the relational nature of divine identity.²⁵ Their reading of Exodus 3:14 as a statement of reliability rather than metaphysical being is provocative and finds some support in narrative interpretations of the text.²⁶

Nevertheless, their critique risks oversimplifying the theological tradition. Classical doctrines of divine attributes were developed not to replace relational theology but to articulate it within a coherent metaphysical framework.²⁷ As scholars such as N. T. Wright have argued, the task is not to abandon ontology but to integrate it within the biblical narrative.²⁸


The authors’ treatment of divine sovereignty reflects a desire to avoid determinism and to preserve the integrity of human agency. Their depiction of God as “invading” history with Sabbath suggests a dynamic interaction between divine and human action.²⁹

While this approach has pastoral and theological appeal, it raises questions regarding the nature of providence and the extent of divine control. The tension between sovereignty and freedom remains unresolved, and further engagement with classical and contemporary discussions would strengthen the argument.³⁰


Although Christ is present throughout the work, the book’s primary focus remains on structural and thematic elements. A more explicit integration of Christology would enhance the authors’ proposal, particularly in relation to:

  • the cross as the dismantling of Babel-like systems
  • the resurrection as the inauguration of Sabbath rest
  • the Spirit as the agent of Sabbath participation

These themes are implicit but could be developed more fully in dialogue with New Testament scholarship.³¹


The Sabbath Gospel represents a significant contribution to contemporary theological discourse. Its strengths lie in its:

  • narrative coherence
  • exegetical depth
  • and willingness to challenge entrenched assumptions

By centering Sabbath within the gospel, Wagenfuhr and Erickson invite readers to reconsider not only their theology but their way of life. Their work calls the church to embody a form of existence that resists the logic of Babel and participates in the rest of God.

In an age marked by restlessness, fragmentation, and control, this vision is both timely and necessary. It reminds us that the gospel is not a system to be mastered but a gift to be received—a Sabbath into which we are invited to dwell.

PURCHASE HERE


  1. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, The Sabbath Gospel, 1–10.
  2. Walter Brueggemann, Sabbath as Resistance (Louisville: WJK, 2014), 1–20.
  3. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 85–89.
  4. Gal 1:4; Rom 12:2.
  5. Brueggemann, Sabbath as Resistance, 25–40.
  6. Craig G. Bartholomew and Michael W. Goheen, The Drama of Scripture (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004).
  7. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 83–86.
  8. John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One (Downers Grove: IVP, 2009).
  9. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 83–84.
  10. Ibid.
  11. Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane (New York: Harcourt, 1959).
  12. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 84–86.
  13. Jacques Ellul, The Technological Society (New York: Vintage, 1964).
  14. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 84.
  15. Ibid., 86–87.
  16. Acts 2:1–13.
  17. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 27–30.
  18. Eph 2:8–9.
  19. Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (Oxford: OUP, 1991).
  20. Brueggemann, Sabbath as Resistance, 44–60.
  21. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 87–88.
  22. Rom 5:12–21.
  23. 1 Enoch; Jubilees.
  24. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 27–28.
  25. Exod 6:7; Lev 26:12.
  26. Exod 3:14.
  27. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae.
  28. N. T. Wright, How God Became King (New York: HarperOne, 2012).
  29. Wagenfuhr and Erickson, 28.
  30. Kevin J. Vanhoozer, Remythologizing Theology (Cambridge: CUP, 2010).
  31. Ben Witherington III, Jesus the Sage (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994).