August 29, 2010

This is the day you realize
how easily the thread is broken between this world and the next
And I found myself sitting up
in the quiet pathway of light,

the tawny close grained cedar
burning round me like fire
and all the angels of this housely heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where I ask my friends to come,
this is where I want to love all the things
it has taken me so long to learn to love.

This is the temple of my adult aloneness
and I belong to that aloneness as I belong to my life.

There is no house like the house of belonging.

The Meetinghouse in which our daughter chose to get married only seated 150 people. This seemed like a reasonable number, enough to invite close friends and family, but not so large that it would seem overwhelming. But as the wedding day neared, we faced what many families experience: “How can we not invite Shirley, or Bill? How about second cousin Mary?” Certainly many had helped Christine along her journey, many who did not get invited on that day. It was hard. Mostly it was difficult because we didn’t want those near to us to feel left out or excluded.

One of our basic human needs is the need for connection. It is very important for us to feel as if we belong. This is never more apparent than during adolescence. The pull of peer pressure can be so strong that sometimes individuals do things that are uncharacteristic. Sometimes the need to belong tempts teenagers to do things that are inconsistent with their core values. Sometimes that happens in adulthood, as well. We do or say things that can be completely foreign, and out of step with how we normally live our lives.

Everyone, I would guess, has had the experience of feeling left out, of being on the outskirts of a circle, or feeling like they just don’t fit in. Just as frequently, it happens that we might get into the circle, but the sacrifice is that we can’t be ourselves. “I wouldn’t really be accepted if they found out who I really am.”

There is good news. All of us experience feeling left out. I don’t think anyone is excluded from this phenomenon. All of us have the need for connection and belonging, and each of us can play a part in making another feel as if he or she belongs, as if he or she is safe and secure.

It is no wonder that Jesus got himself in trouble. He took the powerful and respected Pharisees. It was the sabbath, and a particular Pharisee had invited a large group to dinner, including Jesus. Jesus arrived and then watched. He noticed how people jockeyed for position, how people tried to sit at the important tables, made conversation with influential people. They wanted to be recognized as people or importance, they wanted to belong.

In my mind’s eye, I can still see my Junior High School lunchroom. It wasn’t that much different than the banquet Jesus described. It mattered where you sat. The “jocks” sat in one place, the “nerdy types” sat in another place. The boys and girls that were considered by others to be “losers” were on the fringes of the lunch room. It was intimidating, and it was dreaded. Often I felt like I didn’t belong, and now I know I wasn’t alone.

Jesus went on then to suggest that the Pharisees had perhaps invited all the wrong people. He suggested that for a banquet one does not invite people just so that then you will be invited back to their homes in return. Instead, he said, invite those who are unable to do anything in return. Invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.

My bet is that the Pharisee never invited Jesus to his home again.

In another week, school will once again begin for the Yarmouth School system. Moms and Dads will finish the back to school shopping, and there is great anxiety as clothes are purchased. “Will I have the right thing? Or will what I buy be different than the others.” Kids will worry about their home rooms, about whether or nor they will connect, about whether or not they will belong.

Jesus reminds us that God’s table is really big. That whatever place we have in life, whatever our socioeconomic status, whatever our health, whatever our education, that with God we always belong. Jesus talked about meals over and over again. He wanted his listeners to know that at the table, all are welcome.

But he also coached us a little bit about how we might find our place.

Humility. “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” Whether it is in the Jr. High lunchroom or at a fancy banquet, or even in the church social hall, keep eyes wide open, to recognize those who seem to be on the fringe - who just don’t seem to be connected. It is in making another feel welcome that we can come to feel that we belong. It is our acts of compassion that help us to build a house where we feel we belong.

Jesus was a teacher, but it seems as though he spent a great deal of time people watching. He witnessed those snuggling up close to the powerful. He heard arrogant folks, trying hard to impress. He got to spend some time with the cultural and political elite of his day. What he saw was that some behavior served as a barricade for the very things that people were longing to create.

What he suggested, instead of trying to rise to the top, was that one needed to become a great servant, one who had great compassion instead of judgment, one who took it upon oneself to reach out, to lend a hand. When we serve one another, welcome one another, see one another, then our live gets richer, our souls get wider. We better ourselves when we better another.
The call to be a Christian holds at its center a call to be one who opens doors. For us it is something that never ceases to be in style. We think of that banquet room where Jesus addressed the crowd. We can see the hall filling up, and once all the guests had fought for their spots near the distinguished guests, the doors would close and the music would begin. Most of us would probably have been very happy to receive such an invitation.

But there is a different model. “Come,” Jesus said, “and follow me.“ Open the door for those you encounter. Welcome them, give them a hand. Help them to find a seat. Help them to know they belong, and when you do, you will know that you belong as well.

The kind of connection we seek as travelers on this road runs deep. We seek to make connections with one another, sharing those things that bring us great joy and those things that scare us - illness, aging, rebellious children, depression, nervousness about unemployment. And isn’t it true that we aren’t usually seeking answers, but we are longing for understanding, for caring, just for someone to know us. Isn’t it true that when someone opens the door for us, by giving us the time and space to share ourselves, then often we will share and feel a new connection, a new belonging.

When we open a door and allow one to go before us, it is an act of humility - an act we can practice, even when there is no physical door there - perhaps especially when there is no real door there! Jesus said the last shall be first. The servant will be ministered to.

The Pharisees didn’t like it. They liked being at the head of the table. They wanted to create the illusion that they were somehow better, more important. So what does Jesus say to them? That they should have invited the lame, the poor, the blind! Yes, that would lead us to feel more humble, would it not?

The great people in our lives are the ones that open doors for us. They are the ones who let us in, let us go first, who listen, and make us feel that we belong. In these moments don’t we get a glimpse of God - the God who loves us as we are.

Let’s open more doors, and let’s keep them open wide. It will make a difference. As David Whyte writes, “There is no house like the house of belonging.”