Skip to main content

Belonging

Deuteronomy 23.3-8
Mark 7.24.-37

What does it mean to belong[1]?

For some people belonging means doing things together. They feel part of their community by turning up to services and meetings, taking part in projects and making things happen with a group of other people.

For some people belonging means having a good time together. They feel they belong to their community if they go to fairs, barbecues, housewarmings, football matches, baby showers, carol services, christenings and weddings.

For some people belonging means knowing lots of people - walking down the street, or going to the shops, and bumping into friends and acquaintances, or getting on well with their neighbours, or having a crowd of people they can mix with.

And for some people belonging means where they live - the place where they grew up, which shaped the way they talk, where they feel most at home.
None of these ways of belonging is better than the others. And none of us can belong in all of these ways at once. 

We don’t always feel like joining in and being busy doing things. We don’t always feel like having a good time. Sometimes we can feel lonely, like an outsider without any friends. And sometimes we go to places where we feel like an outsider.

But even when we feel that we don’t belong anywhere or with anyone, we always belong to God. The people who wrote the Old Testament tried to put limits on belonging. But God always broke through the limits. 

Have you ever been told not to be friends with someone because the people you hang out with don’t like them or because they’re supposed to be a bad influence? The people of Israel were told in the Bible not to be friends with anyone from Moab, but it turns out that the grandmother of Israel’s greatest King, King David, was from Moab. 

The Old Testament said that all sorts of people didn’t really belong, but the Prophet Isaiah challenged that attitude. He heard God say to him, ‘I, the Lord, promise to bring my people together… and let them join with other people.’

And even in this passage from the Book of Deuteronomy, with its list of people who don’t belong, the writer concedes that Israel’s arch-enemies - the Egyptians, who had once kept them in slavery - must be made welcome and allowed to belong if they come to live in Israel. Belonging is what God is all about.

Jesus started off being just as suspicious of foreigners as many people are today. He thought they were scroungers, trying to take stuff away from his own people. Where have we heard that before? He actually uses a word that means ‘dogs’. But the woman from the Lebanon changed his mind. It was a lesson he had to learn. From then on he always drew a circle which includes people in rather than shutting them out.

Baptism is about belonging. Belonging to our family. Belonging to one another. Belonging in the wider community. Belonging to the Church. And above all belonging to God. He calls us to embrace belonging.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his

Giotto’s Nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds

John 1.10-18 In the week before Christmas the BBC broadcast a modern version of The Nativity which attempted to retell the story with as much psychological realism as possible. So, for instance, viewers saw how Mary, and Joseph especially, struggled with their feelings. But telling the story of Jesus with psychological realism is not a new idea. It has a long tradition going back seven hundred years to the time of the Italian artist Giotto di Bondone. This nativity scene was painted in a church in Padua in about 1305. Much imitated it is one of the first attempts at psychological realism in Christian art. And what a wonderful first attempt it is - a work of genius, in fact! Whereas previously Mary and the Baby Jesus had been depicted facing outwards, or looking at their visitors, with beatific expressions fixed on their faces, Giotto dares to show them staring intently into one another’s eyes, bonding like any mother and newborn baby. Joseph, in contrast, is not looking on with quiet a

Meeting Jesus on Zoom

‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’ (John 20.19-31 ( https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA) This is my second reflection about today’s Gospel reading but I wanted to write something about meeting Jesus on Zoom. Zoom’s been very useful during the lockdown, but it’s also got a bad press. Various mischief makers have gatecrashed meetings on Zoom, either to eavesdrop or make inappropriate comments. That’s why worshippers needed permission to join our on-line service this week. If they managed to press all the right buttons, and entered all the right codes, they should've found themselves looking at a screen not unlike the cartoon picture below of the eleven apostles trying to meet on Zoom with the risen Jesus. Anyone who couldn't see the service on the screen would've been in good company. In the cartoon Jesus has done something wrong. Either he hasn’t enabled Zoom to t