Belonging – Being Loved
The ultimate connection that anchors the convert, is a sense of belonging. This is a matter of identification, and it is related not only to the church, and its Christian constituents, but specifically to the ‘name of the Lord.’ This is important. God Himself claims us by changing our names, by attaching His name to us.
God told Aaron that He would ‘put his name’ on the people and bless them. They did not belong to Aaron, or Moses, or even to the tabernacle they would erect or to its altar. They belonged to the Lord. The blessing was fulfilled then, not in its mere words, but in this relational connection. As with Israel, it is not merely in believing and behaving that we are Christians – it is in our belonging to God, to one another, to mission and purpose. It is in our identity with God, in Christ, and our willingness to carry his name, and be identified as belonging to him. Yet, belonging cannot be related only to mission and purpose. That is far too cold, too institutional, too utilitarian.
The attachment that fills us with a sense of belonging is the quality of God’s love that we experience. We belong, by being in the arms of God, the Father. We are home. And we feel at home. This is not institutional, but personal. It is not geophysical space that satisfies us, but something transcendent to which we are bound. This is the ‘heart strangely warmed.’ This is the effect of the robe and the ring and the fatted calf and the welcome party that followed (Lk. 15). The reception of the prodigal was not on the basis of his morality – it had been despicable. It was not on the basis of his confession, nor was it without it. His heart was repentant – that was not the problem. He had rehearsed his confession all the way from the pigpen to the father’s gate. He knew standards of his father’s home, and he was fully prepared to rehearse his sin and his failures publicly and take a lower position, not the role of a son or yet a servant, but that of a hired hand. He understood truth, but what he did not understand was the depth of the Father’s love. For the father, this was the redemption of a lost relationship with his son. His dead son was now alive. It was not about the farm, the wasted money, the soiled family name, or the imposition of a penalty for past failures. No, the father loved the son and insisted that he belonged to him.
Far too many people in America, in Christendom, are cultural Christians. They consider themselves Christians, but they have never had a life-altering encounter with God. They have never been undone by the love of God or the holiness of God, contrasted with their sin. They do not live out the Biblical values of the Christian faith – but, if asked, they will say, “Yes, I am a Christian.” You cannot tackle their lostness with a direct frontal approach, inditing them for hypocrisy. Such an approach engenders defensiveness and inoculates them against listening. The culture, with an aberrant emphasis on grace, has made Christianity a matter of mental assent to fundamental Christian truths. Grace in such a theological scenario is static. Biblical grace is dynamic. It is not a mere transaction with God; it is transformational and relational in a felt manner. It is not merely positional. It is a radical conversion, a new life, a new heart, a new purpose and mission in life, a new love. It is as personal as it is propositional. It is about Christ, not primarily and first about the church. We belong. We’re home.
George Hunter, an evangelism specialist, urges an indirect approach in evangelism. He says we should use narrative as a means of evangelism. The use of story and engaging conversations encourage others to discover Christ in a way they have never known. Pride blinds those who perceive themselves to be Christians but lack a vital connection to Christ. Wisdom, the work of the Holy Spirit, love and grace, must call them out of their self-deceit and pride. Only God can unwrap such a heart.
In sharing the gospel, the unchurched, and even the cultural Christian is asking, “Is this person who is sharing the faith with me, for me or against me?” Your attitude, your disposition in evangelism is the difference between witnessing from inside a circle or from a across a line, whether you are working with someone clearly outside the faith or a cultural Christian. “Is there goodwill here?” they ask. Or we might use the word, “Love.” It is important to keep the presentation grace based. Does it invite the sinner, or the cold Christian, or does it attempt to drive the individual, coercively?
Remember, Christ identified with humanity – that is the essence of the incarnation. Are we Christlike, then, in our evangelism? Are we human, sharing our own experiences, our own story? – feelings, attitudes, doubts, beliefs, values. Are we vulnerable and relatable? Or plastic and above the fray, reaching down into the gutter to help the sinner? All this matters. Remember sin alienates. Identification descends into the pit, and tends to the hurting – and yet, that identification with the sin and sinner is not the salvation experience itself. It is a prelude to it. It puts one in the position of saying, “Lord, I believe.” Paul confessed, “I could wish myself accused for my kinsman according to the flesh.” That’s identification. It is the bridge to reach the lost.
Soren Kierkegaard was a 19th century theologian, philosopher and existentialist. He offered numerous tips on evangelism. First, he said, “Speak personally.” He urged intimate, one-on-one evangelism. William Sweet added, “to personalize religion is to emotionalize it.” That is, communicate from your heart and not your head.
Second, Kierkegaard advised, be imaginative, poetic, avoid abstractions. Third, and this is the identification piece – “Speak to yourself as you address the other.” Allow the other to feel like they are listening in on your own musings and self-talk – that mutes the force of direct communication and allows them to relax. Fourth, lay out a vision of what the fully dedicated life to Christ is like – a new sense of purpose and mission, a closeness to God in Christ, by the indwelling Holy Spirit. His peace, joy, love, and grace. Hold up models, heroes of the faith, but in not a distant way to be admired, but in a close and proximate manner, to be emulated. Fifth. “Don’t get impatient. Don’t pressure the individual. Don’t force their decision. Respect their freedom and trust God’s grace at work in their lives.” Remember, in witnessing you are the junior partner to the Holy Spirit. Don’t get in his way. Don’t usurp his role.
Walter Fisher taught at the University of Southern California, and authored the book, Human Communication as Narration. Fisher challenged the enlightenment’s rationalism that asserted that humans, driven by reason, made their decisions based on the facts, based on the best evidence and arguments. That they lived their lives through rational analysis – a very scientific position. “Nonsense,” he contended. “Humans are ‘storytelling animals.’” We make sense of our world through the prism of story and story lines; the inspiration that stories and their characters provide.
The best communication, he believed, was through narrative. When the storyteller offers a tale that the audience can step into, one to which they can belong, real communication happens. The story being told then becomes the story of the listener – he is in the story, and in that resonation, powerful insight and change is possible. Such stories must be credible. They must ring true.
Young millennials and those in Gen Z are less interested in religion than they are in spirituality. They tend to explore the Eastern faith systems that have an impersonal God – and in the end, those narratives leave them empty. Christianity is personal – because, God, created man in His image, and Jesus is the incarnate expression of God. Christianity’s God has a body – He be known but never fully known. There is mystery in our relationship with God. This allows us all to say, “I don’t understand, but I choose to trust, to have faith.” The Christian faith is never a pure leap in the dark. Our faith that is more rooted in the character of God – His holiness, His unconditional love, His goodness, than in our perfect grasp of theology. Every true believer stands in awe of the Father’s love, though he cannot explain the depths of that love or the degree of God’s holiness, nor the truth of God in Scripture. This is faith as a process, as a journey. It is the story of God and our invitation to walk with Him.
With the end of the enlightenment and the age of rationalism, the modern youth population is now very skeptical of people and institutions, including the church. They doubt any claim to authority, especially unquestioned authority. They operate less on the rational and more on their own intuition – and they lack trust of authorities, institutions, traditions and the like. They are more prone to exploring spirituality and mysticism, than traditional faith forms held by the church. They are reached on the continuum of love with stories – stories that resonate with them. They are deeply capable of empathy, often with the wrong causes. They are not rational, but reactionary, pulled in by compassion, even if it lacks a rational basis. They ‘feel,’ and feelings with them are stronger than reason. They need, as rebellious and non-traditional as they are, our love.
George Hunter III recalled a personal incident at a laundromat. Eight people were doing their laundry, and he chatted with each of them. Seven were unchurched. Six had never been involved in a church. However, five indicated an interest in exploring a church – that is interesting. Open people, outside the church, unengaged. There was a caveat. They were interested if the church was interested in them. They were hungry for love – hungry to belong. It is not about the church as an institution, but as the family of God, the body of Christ. This evangelism is more about belonging to Christ, the personal, than belonging to a church, the institutional.
Hunter gave the names to a local pastor asking if he would follow up. The response of the pastor, he said, was telling, “The people who frequent that laundromat aren’t even nice.” The church, at least the pastor, wasn’t interested in six people who were interested in faith. Interested in belonging. Not if the bridge to their belonging was that of unconditional love. What does that say about the church?
We have to become a safer place for strangers. A place where outsiders are welcomed, especially those who have tons of questions and ragged lives that don’t meet our social-cultural norms. The church is God’s house, a house prayer for the nations, one that welcomes those who are yet to believe.