Sometimes when we hear the Word of God proclaimed on Sunday, a word or phrase jumps right out. This is how I know it’s the living word of God, as if He is speaking right to my heart, and this Sunday, that word was “belong.”
My regular readers may recall this past Saturday, I was bemoaning my feeling of not belonging. This is a chronic problem (both the feeling, and the act of bemoaning). It goes back as far as I can remember; even as a three year old I felt I didn’t belong with my peers in preschool. It’s an enduring theme in my life story, and I’m sick of it. I’m also kind of embarrassed that at 41 years old I’m still struggling like a three year old.
Thank goodness feelings aren’t facts. The living word of God challenged my idea of belonging this Sunday through Paul’s letter to the Corinthians:
“It has been reported to me about you, my brothers and sisters, by Chloe’s people, that there are rivalries among you. I mean that each of you is saying, ‘I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ or ‘I belong to Christ.’ Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?”
The message didn’t really hit home until Mass was half over. I stood at the mic like I do every Sunday, leading the congregation in song during communion. The refrain was familiar, one of my favorite songs:
We belong to you, o lord of our longing,
We belong to you.
In our daily living, dying and rising,
We belong to you.
Side note: you can see the composer, Trevor Thomson, singing an abbreviated version of the song here:
Listening to the sound of my own voice singing those words, I had a revelation. There is only one solution to my feeling of disconnect, and that is to do exactly what Jesus did in Sunday’s gospel – reach out to others. When Jesus started his ministry in the Roman city of Capernaum, in Galilee, the land of the Gentiles, he did not wait for disciples to come to him like most rabbis did; he went out and recruited.
His first recruits were two sets of brothers, fishermen who were bemoaning their lack of a catch after a long night of casting nets and coming up empty. “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men,” Jesus said to his bewildered new friends Simon, Andrew, James, and John.
When we follow Jesus, community is the result. We don’t belong to a community, or a church, or a political party, or a country, or even the world. We don’t belong to our parents, or our children, or our friends, or our lovers. We don’t even belong to ourselves, though we may sometimes think we do.
We belong only to the One who created us. The one who died for each and every one of us.
Even when we don’t believe in him, we belong only to him. Even when we don’t like the others who belong to him, or they don’t like us, still we belong to him.
You and I may be united in nothing else except that we both belong to the same creator. And miraculously, that is enough.
In the waters of your mercy, When the old becomes the new, Souls united in the myst’ry: We belong to you.
Filled with gifts and filled with goodness, Spirit breathing life into All who seek to find their purpose: We belong to you.
When we share the bread you’ve broken With the many and the few, We are blessed and we are broken; We belong to you.
We are called to share your word, Lord, In all we say and all we do. As our journey moves us onward, We belong to you.
After Mass, I put into practice the message my heart received. I invited two of my friends who were at there to join me and the other musicians in singing. We could use a few more regular vocalists and had been hoping some additional singers would respond to ads in the bulletin. What would Jesus do? Ask, person to person. Time will tell if anything comes of it; ministry happens in God’s time, not ours.
Feeling “tribeless” is only the first step in recognizing a greater truth – that all our tribes are just illusions. There’s only one tribe, and we are all members whether we like it or not, with one leader, whether we acknowledge Him or not. There is hope for the tribeless, and it won’t be fulfilled by finding the “right” church or moving to a neighborhood where I feel like I fit in or making friends who “get” me. Those things are nice and help us feel comfortable, but a tribe isn’t a comfort zone. If Jesus wanted a comfort zone he would have started his ministry in Nazareth where he grew up, or Jerusalem where he found himself as a teenager. He’d have stayed with his fellow Jews in the land of Judah and certainly wouldn’t have crossed the Jordan into “enemy territory.”
Tribes weren’t important to Jesus. Rivalries certainly weren’t. Relationships were. Relationships with each other, yes, but first a relationship with Him. Sometimes I can get so caught up in feeling excluded that I inadvertently exclude others with my sour attitude. That net doesn’t catch much fish. Jesus crossed the Jordan into my “no man’s land” bringing the hope of belonging to him. When will I finally leave my empty nets and follow where he leads?