83: We Belong
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Back in May, I made a quick trip to Orlando. The main reason for this trip was my flying out of the Orlando airport to attend the last residency and graduation ceremony for my M.A. in Christian Spiritual Formation and Leadership. But the timing also coincided with my dad clearing out the last of what was left in my grandmother’s storage unit. If you’re listening in real time, she died last October, a little over a year ago to the day.
So, before my dad donated the last of her belongings, I decided to accompany him to the storage unit to see what was left, just in case there might be one more tangible memory I’d like to hold onto. Honestly, there wasn’t much there. But I was surprised by what I did decide to take with me.
I took a chair. It’s a wingback chair/recliner that I remember sitting in many times while visiting with my grandma. And if memory serves, it was the chair she always sat in before she upgraded to her fancy La-Z-Boy recliner. It seemed wrong to let this chair go. In my mind, it was an heirloom that belonged in our family. So, I loaded it in my car.
Now, what you need to know is, this chair was going to match absolutely nothing in our house. I tend to decorate with soft blues, greens, greys, and creams. Light, cool, calming colors that remind me of the beach. This chair, though, is patterned with deep burgundy, rich gold, brown, yellow, and rust. Warm, regal colors that remind me, not of the beach, but of autumn leaves. But nonetheless, I told myself I’d reupholster it someday and started the drive back home.
And when I did get home, the chair definitely didn’t match. It still doesn’t. But I knew exactly where it belonged. There was an empty space right by one of our bookshelves in our living room and I’d been hoping to fill it with a comfy reading chair. Well, mission accomplished. It now fits just right.
And each time I walk by and notice that stark contrast between the chair and the rest of our decor, I’m reminded of this important truth: Just because something doesn’t match, doesn’t mean it can’t belong.
I’ll be honest, for much of my life, I’ve struggled with that. Whether it’s me trying to figure out where and how I might fit in. Or interacting with others who are so beyond the lines of my own familiarity. I know I’m more comfortable with molds that match.
But I’m learning that in the Kingdom of God, there isn’t a one-mold-model. Yes, the likeness of Jesus is the standard we seek, but the image of God is found in all sorts of different shapes and sizes, patterns and colors, stories and perspectives. God is present, even in unexpected places. And God is at work, even in mysterious ways. Even if I don’t understand or agree or relate.
I’ve noticed that all throughout the gospels, when Jesus is around, nobody stays an outsider for long. There is always room. There is always space. And his invitations are always without prerequisites. Rich or poor, righteous or stained, young or old, all sorts of different people are welcomed to participate in his kingdom work, in their own unique ways.
Jesus sees those who are despised, those who are feared, those who are rejected, those who are wandering. And he brings them into the fold and wraps them in love, giving them space to land and a place to belong. Before they get it right. Before they have it all together. Before they even commit to following Jesus. As pastor and author Scott Sauls highlights in his book, A Gentle Answer:
“With Christ and with Christ-attuned Christians, belonging comes before believing.”
Last March, Brad and I got to take a trip to New York City. I had a speaking opportunity on Long Island, and we decided to tack on a few extra days in the city. I’d never been and was so excited to finally experience all the Big Apple offers. Our first stop was The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.
We waited in line outside the theatre for what felt like forever, and weren’t even sure we would make it in. Finally, though, after a couple hours, we made the cutoff and were ushered indoors. We entered the historic Ed Sullivan Theatre and were seated in the balcony; further from the stage, but closer to the historic, recently renovated and restored architecture. I wasn’t mad about it.
The building was gorgeous. Above us, there was a beautiful Gothic dome, filled with an LED-stained glass design on display and an ornate, antique chandelier. And to my surprise, we were also surrounded by actual intricate stained glass windows as well. I was so struck by this feature. I don’t really even remember the celebrity guests (okay, I DO vaguely remember Michael Buble). But truly, my biggest takeaway was how central the stained glass was to the overall design of the theatre. It seemed so out-of-place for a late night talk show; it didn’t seem to match the tone. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more I saw how it fit.
Just weeks earlier, I’d watched a video clip of an exchange between musical artist Dua Lipa and Colbert on The Late Show. She asked him about how his faith informs his work, and he so brilliantly articulated that sacred connection. And what I realized is that those stained glass windows on display in the Ed Sullivan Theatre are very likely an intentional extension of who Stephen Colbert is as a person of faith. Each day, those windows are visual representations of how he enters that sacred space and tries his best to display the love and joy of God in his own unique, imperfect way.
While the stained glass was certainly a special and memorable feature in the theatre, it also reminded me of our belonging. While stained glass windows are often a physical part of our gathering and worship spaces, the deeper truth is that they represent who we are as the people of God. Stained glass is designed with individually cut pieces of glass, of all different shapes and sizes and colors; but placed together they create a more beautiful whole. Similarly, we are a body of individuals made up of different gifts, perspectives, stories, and broken edges; and we have been called together as a community to more fully represent the love of God in the world around us. And as we seek to grow more and more into the likeness of Jesus, we each have a place in the larger whole. We each are a valued piece of a sacred puzzle within the kingdom of God. After all, we each help to make up the body of Christ.
Perhaps Paul sums it up well in his letter to the Romans. In Romans 12:3-5, we read:
3 For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. 4 For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, 5 so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.
Today, remember, we might not match, but we can still belong. To God and to one another. May we learn to rest in our belonging, and may we find ways to remind others that they belong, too, as together, we seek the likeness of Jesus and continue to become the people God is calling us to be.