August 15 was move-in day on Daisy Hill. A mass of minivans and pick-up trucks driven by parents spending their Sunday carrying boxes and futons up dormitory stairwells, left students at their new University home.

On the opposite corner of campus, across from the Kansas Union and in the shadow of the Oread Hotel, 1200 Oread Ave., another group of new residents settled into the basement of the 51-year-old Ecumenical Christian Ministries building. The living room is well worn, but charming. Natural light shines through onto the room’s various houseplants. Atop a brick fireplace stand both a large cross and a hookah, a reminder that both faith and youth are found here.

 So why forgo space and comfort to move into an aging structure that lacks central air conditioning? For Andrea Sitek, who calls the ECM home, the goal is intentional community.

 “We have a lot of people coming from different places, but generally people who are wanting to be involved in a community and wanting to grow,” Sitek, Andover junior, says. “Allowing yourself to be a part of a community is an opportunity for growth in a lot of ways, and I think people who seek this out are aware of that.”

 Since 1961, men and women have cohabitated in the lower level of 1204 Oread as part of the ECM’s Koinonia community, a program that seeks to provide affordable housing and a year-long growing experience in service, fellowship and faith. Most members are students, though some are recent graduates involved in nonprofit work. “Koinonia” is a Greek word that, translated loosely, means communion. However, sitting around the dining table in the their basement, the new roommates debate the precise translation.

 “It means community,” says Ben Dillon, a recent journalism graduate from the University of Missouri, who intends to work with Americorps this fall. “So when we call it the Koinonia Community, it’s kind of redundant.”

 “Does it? I thought it meant fellowship,” Sitek says.

 “Ah yes, it’s Greek for ‘sharing your life with another in a friendship that is capable of being in another person’s shoes,’” says Erik Buchholz, a 2010 graduate in psychology and Chinese who reads the definition from a packet of information on Koinonia. “But that’s the long definition.”

 Though new members are still grappling with what “Koinonia” means, living up to the group’s name and goals of compassion and empathy can prove challenging, says Thad Holcomb, the ECM pastor who has overseen Koinonia since 1991. “It connotes a community, not a group, and many who become a part not only are attracted because of that sense of community, but work hard at it occurring,” he says.

 Aside from living together, members volunteer 45 hours each semester with local service programs, such as tending community gardens or tutoring ESL students. They also meet weekly to share community meals, where, besides food, many other items come to the table, from deep discussions on faith to who didn’t wash their dishes.

 “We talk about where we are with our spirituality, but that’s not all we talk about,” Sitek says. “That’s one time when conflicts come to the table. We try not to be passive aggressive or talking behind each other’s backs.”

 Sitek, Konoinia’s only returning resident, lived in Hashinger Hall her freshman year. Although a sense of community can be found in the residence halls, it’s neither obligatory nor guaranteed. Students can take their hall’s side-stairwell on their way to class instead of passing their floormates in the lobby.

 The theory at Konoinia is that life is better when shared together and deeply, Sitek says. “The goal is to work through that conflict and become a stronger community,” she says.

 Sometimes conflicts pertaining to the Koinonia living space arise. During the dining table discussion, the ECM’s aging interior began to show its wear.

 “I’m being dripped on,” declares Dillon, pausing to inspect the ceiling. “I just realized this wall is wet right here.”

 Sitek points to a corner where the basement’s parquet tiles are covered in water.

 Though it’s still early in the year, the residents find that each conflict, whether flooded basement or personal dispute, draws them closer together in community — in Koinonia. And while none of them can foresee what the upcoming year might hold, they hope to go through it together. It’s a process Holcomb has had the opportunity to witness for almost 20 years.“Members often state that they have experienced great support through crisis and a place to laugh and cry without being embarrassed,” he says. “Koinonia attempts to be a place where hospitality is practiced through compassion and faith is explored.”