Belonging

2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a

It was a favorite ritual at their house. The mom would say to her little boy, “If I could choose any little boy in all the world—any size, and color, anywhere, no matter how much I had to pay for him—do you know who I’d choose?” He’d always answer, “No, who?” And she’d say, “I’d choose you!” And the little boy would be quiet for a moment and then look up with eyes shining and say, “Tell me again, mama, tell me again!”
Our deepest yearning is to belong.
Think for a moment of the greatest pain you’ve known.

Probably it involves an experience of not belonging:

partner died or left you

family rejected you

adolescent loneliness

depression: no place on earth for you

don’t belong in your body

Jean Vanier, founder of l’Arche communities for people with disabilities, says that the greatest source of pain fro the people at L’Arche is not their disability, but rejection: the experience of not belonging.

We can all name the struggles we’ve had with not belonging.

And yet, belonging is the deepest truth of the universe:

in physics, in spirituality: our deepest truth:

we belong.

The spiritual journey is not about making that happen.

It is about recognizing our belonging and claiming it.

That brings us to ethical issues,

and that brings us to our scripture for this morning.

David wants Bathsheba,

and so he arranges to eliminate her husband Uriah.

The story does not tell us anything about Bathsheba’s response to all this, except that she lamented Uriah’s death.

Brother David Steindl-Rast says “Moral rightness consists of behaving as people behave when they belong together. (Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer p.16)

David felt that he and Bathsheba belonged together.

He failed to see that actually it was he and Uriah who belonged together. David did what humans most often do: we destroy what we see as the source of the problem. (Richard Rohr. Things Hidden. p.149)

It seems we have to learn that we belong,

and then we must learn that we belong to each other.

The church, following Jesus, has tried to teach us that.

The Trinity is our sacred metaphor for the truth that the nature of reality is belonging, that is, relatedness.

The word grace reminds us that we don’t earn belonging. It is simply freely given. And we can’t lose it: it always is.

Baptism names us as one who belongs.
Communtion celebrates this ultimate belonging:

There is a place at the tab le for you.

Stay for supper, you belong.
In the beginning we belong to our families.

We shore up our insecurity by belonging to a school

sports team, corporation, nation.

We might at some point in our life feel the delight

of belonging to a lover.

Perhaps along the way we make the commitment

to belong to God.

As our journey progresses, our sense of belonging grows.

And maybe in time we come to understand that we belong to the universe and all that is in it.

We belong to the homeless poor, and they to us.

We belong to the inchworm, the porcupine, the dandelion.

We belong to our enemies. They belong to us.

Love is saying yes to belonging (D. Steindl-Rast).

And that always brings us back to ethics, morality, justice.

When we recognize that we belong,

we act the way people act who belong together.

It takes us a lifetime to get this:

First to recognize that we belong. (Do you remember standing outside of the in group in junior high?)
Then to accept that they (whoever) also belong.

In a community like ours,

there is no resistance to this idea in theory. But in fact, most of us feel that the religious right do not belong, or conservative thinkers.

And finally to learn to act the way people act who belong together.

That pretty much keeps us busy for a lifetime.

One woman named Debra tells of the time she was a facilitator for a church conference around a very controversial issue: perhaps discussing ONA churches or gay marriage. Debra was 7 months pregnant, tired. It was very hot and the group she was to work with were people who apparently had no intention of being facilitated! The most difficult member of the group was Mrs. Moore, a tight-lipped, scowling pillar of a church in Sun City, Arizona. She thought that Debra was in league with the devil, or at least the Democrats. She wasn’t going to have any of those kind of people in her church! She knew her Leviticus! She scowled through the whole conference, shaking her head and endlessly knitting.

The last day arrived. It had been an awful week. Debra felt like a failure and just wanted to go back to her room and cry. She was sure there was no hope for the church in the future. As she was leaving the meeting room, Mrs. Moore called her back, and to her astonishment handed Debra an exquisite sunshine yellow blanket. It was what Mrs. Moore had been working on throughout the conference.

“I made these for you, dear. I will be praying that all goes well for you and your baby. God bless.” She gave Debra a brisk kiss on the cheek and walked away.
Debra had much to teach about ONA.

But it was Mrs. Moore who knew about belonging.

Gather the folks.

Give thanks for grace.

Welcome the one you don’t want.

Be with the oppressed.

Come to the table.
You belong.

We belong together.

And that’s the truth.