Belonging

I am a fan of putting together puzzles.  Years ago, my family of origin held a family reunion in McCall, Idaho. My four siblings, their spouses and children in tow, along with my parents and my family gathered at a retreat center hidden among the ponderosa pines.  There were a couple of days when it rained, and it rained hard.  To keep ourselves occupied, my sister purchased an extra large puzzle in town, gifted it to me for my birthday, and we proceeded to create our masterpiece.  We chatted around the table, helped one another find pieces we were looking for to fit that “one spot,” and took turns celebrating when someone put a section together.  That puzzle was later glued onto a large piece of heavy poster board and it hung in my family’s laundry room for years.  It’s a sweet memory; that crazy puzzle means more to me than I’m sure my family realizes.  The sister who gifted me the puzzle has gone home to be with Jesus, as well as my dad and another sister.  Our children are all grown, building families of their own.  I look at that puzzle and I hear laughter, I see smiling faces of precious loved ones, I remember camaraderie and a strong sense of belonging.

I haven’t thought of those moments for years. In searching for a visual to help me understand a passage of scripture, that’s the picture God gave me.  First Corinthians 12 talks about the church as the body of Christ.  Verse 18 says, “God has arranged each one of the parts in the body just as he wanted.”  When God first reminded me of the puzzle memory, I quickly jumped to the parallel that the parts of the body fit together like puzzle  pieces.  Each puzzle piece is necessary for the picture to be completed.  In the body of Christ, each person is needed for God’s work to be accomplished.  We are different shapes, and different colors.  Some have many colors, some are solid.  Some fit tightly with the pieces around them, some seem to have an odd way of fitting together.  Individually there’s not much of an image.  In groups, some aspects of the picture become clear.  All together, we are a masterpiece. 

God’s Spirit nudged me to look deeper. I recalled the smiling face of my sister and remembered the store where she purchased the puzzle.  I reminisced  the moments spent with my sisters and my mom wandering the store, laughing and pointing things out to one another.  I saw again my husband and the other brothers-in-law taking a piece now and then to taunt us.  I can perfectly visualize my mom bent over the table looking for an exact piece for a trouble spot.  We were family and we all felt at home; everyone was allowed to come help at the table. It made no difference how good you were, or that we had a disagreement earlier in the day.  It didn’t matter if you were a biological child of my parents, or one wedded in.  It didn’t matter if you were an adult or a small fry barely able to peek over the table’s edge.  You could stay for the whole process or come and go like all the guys seemed to do.  

God whispered: “That’s my church.”  

In Christ’s body we are all welcome to the table. Each and every one of us.  We all belong because we are all one family. God has adopted each one of us in and we’ve all been invited to the reunion.  We are many; we are diverse and individually unique.  We have different interests and abilities, just like my sisters and I.  And we all have a familial similarity and a familial bond.  In the church, we are all to look like our dad, and be concerned with what concerns Him. God is concerned about us. Which means that each of us working at the table are to be concerned with everyone else around the table.  The Message states it this way, “… God has carefully placed each part of the body right where he wanted it.  But I also want you to think about how this keeps your significance from getting blown up into self-importance.  For no matter how significant you are, it is only because of what you are a part of…”  

For each of us there are those within our local church who we don’t intimately connect with.  Perhaps their personality is too quiet or too loud for our personal taste.  Perhaps their interests are far removed from our own.  Perhaps they are a different generation, in a different stage of family life, or live a lifestyle that is too structured or too free-wheeling for our comfort.  And they are still family.  Though my sisters, my brother and I were raised by the same two people, the structure of our family lives is different in each home.  We are a family because we know we belong. 

In the middle of looking at scripture through the pictorial lens God gave me, He raised a question in my mind: do I treat each person in my local  body of believers as though they belong with me?  Familiar faces from my church floated through my mind: tender saints, active children, laughing, chatting teenagers, precious friends, tired toddler parents, struggling singles, disenchanted couples, grieving grandparents, hopeful young adults, wide-eyed newlyweds, grateful new parents, polished professionals and more. As each face floated through my imagination I wondered does she feel as if she belongs with me?  Does he know that I accept him?  I’m convinced some would have told me no.  And then my sister’s face came once again into view.  God reminded me of how many times I made her feel as if she didn’t belong with me.  After all, we were sisters who shared a bedroom. She was neat and organized, I was a constant mess.  She was hesitant to step out, I barreled my way through every thing.  She was steady, I was all over the map.  She was good with one or two people, I wanted the whole crowd to go along with me.  And yet I loved her deeply and dearly; I couldn’t imagine a day without her.  We apologized often to each other and always made up.  I knew there was always space for me in her life, because I belonged with her.  

God whispered: “That’s my church.” 

In God’s family, in the church, we are all different. Amazingly, marvelously, drastically different. And because of God’s grace, we all belong.  I need to make some space at the table, and remind those in my local family that they belong with me, and surprise! — I belong with them. After all, we are a family, and we are putting pieces together to create a masterpiece in our corner of the world.