Love lifts us up where we belong. (Buffy Sainte-Marie, Will Jennings, Jack Nitzsche. From “Up Where we Belong, Recorded by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes).
15 Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. 16 And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? 18 But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. 19 If they were all one part, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many parts, but one body.
21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” (1 Corinthians 12: 15-21)
Many years ago, I went down to an Ecumenical Retreat Centre in New York State, called Chautauqua. Now I know that most UCCers, when they hear “Retreat Centre”, picture something like Camp LauRen for adults, so you need to toss that whole image out of your mind, and instead picture Martha’s Vineyard with a Church twist. First of all its HUGE. It’s a town in and of itself complete with several churches, stores, hotels, and many many houses. Its also more on the scale of a resort, rather than the primitive retreat centres that we all know and love. The place has a huge commitment to Arts, and has its own Symphony, and Opera Company; and a huge arts education program. While I was there I attended lectures by some really big-name speakers; Diana Butler-Bass and Otis Moss III to name two. I also attended worship every morning in an amphitheatre that could hold thousands; an exquisite professional music director, and a choir that was bigger than the attendance at both of the churches I was serving at the time. It was conspicuously wealthy and privileged. The gate pass along was my whole Con-Ed funds for the year, and I still had accommodation and travel expenses.
The whole experience left me reeling. I loved what I was learning. I loved worshiping with other like minded people. I loved hearing the concerts and seeing the ballet. But there was also this weird, awkward feeling that I couldn’t shake the whole time that I was there. The feeling of ‘not belonging’ in this world of grandeur and wealth, even though the people were kindly. The feeling that somehow the conspicuousness of the privilege and the excessiveness of the crowds meant that I became smaller and mousier as the week went on. Because Chautauqua was in New York state, politics loomed large. And although mostly the conversation seemed to be in line with my own personal thinking, it was clear that my embedded Canadian, small-town biases meant that I was an outsider peering into most of the table top discussions. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that these were generally good people. But I wasn’t able to fit in. I didn’t understand what they were talking about, and frankly they didn’t understand me. But because I was one person in the sea of thousands, there was very little effort made to include my perspective in conversations. And fair enough. My perspective wasn’t something they needed to hear or share.
It was the loneliest, crowded week that I have ever attended. And it was almost worse because I constantly felt like I should be happy. The lectures were fantastic. The worship was lovely. The music was exquisite. But in between those times I wandered the grounds by myself, or read a book by myself, or bought an ice cream cone by myself and ended up longing to be someone or something else.
That whole scenario has repeated itself my whole life, with more or less inclusion and exclusion, but has always left me longing to be someone other than what I actually am, just so that I can be part of something that seems to be pretty wonderful.
We all want to belong, somewhere, for exactly who we are and what we offer to the world. This week I have walked with two friends who have experienced significant life changing trauma because the faith community that they had worked so hard to be part of had basically said “you aren’t one of us” and had excluded them. In both cases, my friends had worked so hard to be included, but were unwilling to compromise some of the core characteristics of who they are in order to ‘fit in’ and look like the rest of them. Families do this too, right! That’s why there’s something called the ‘black sheep of the family’, because they are so different; they think and operate so differently from the rest that they don’t fit in.
But, as the verse above says, “the eye can’t say to the hand, “I don’t need you””. Our world needs all of the parts, not just the ones that look like us. Not only that, you can’t just decide that because you are a hand, that you’re of no use to the rest of the body because you aren’t the eye. And along the same lines, you can’t just sit there longing to be an eye when you were made to be a hand.
So I think that somehow we need to build a world so that it isn’t just the people who look like us or act like us that are included. We need to somehow build a world where belonging, exactly how you were made and with what you can offer, is not only met with kindness, but is met with inclusion; and the expectation that your voice is not only heard, but listened to. We need to build a world that assumes that inclusion is beyond a kindly, friendly reception, but is a lavish welcome and embracing. We need to be families that not only embrace and honour the black sheep, but the green, yellow and red ones too. Where differences are not things that exclude; differences are things that are honoured and embraced.
And no one is left wandering by themselves.
So look around my dear Bethel Family. Can you see that there are people that need to be lavishly included in your world? Can you be the person who loves them enough to “Lift them up where [they] belong?
Blessings today. You really are Loved. And you Belong. All of you. Exactly how you were created.
~Rev. Lynne
