What it Takes to Belong

 2025-02
Sermon preached at Church of the Good Shepherd, Federal Way, WA
www.goodshepherdfw.org
by the Rev. Josh Hosler, Rector
The Second Sunday of Advent (Year C), December 8, 2024
Baruch 5:1-9 ; Canticle 16 ; Philippians 1:3-11 ; Luke 3:1-6

Back in the fall of 2019, during Good Shepherd’s annual pledge drive, we picked as our theme that year “A Place to Belong.” I chose to preach a four-part sermon series—the first time I had ever done anything like that. Each week, I preached on a different factor that makes belonging possible. In order, they were as follows: Justice. Humility. Inclusivity. Trust.

Little did we know then that we would all soon be thrust into a multi-year pandemic that would make on-site worship inappropriate for nearly 16 months! During that time, the Church of the Good Shepherd was dragged more deeply into the question of what it takes not only to belong, but to feel and know that belonging. We leaned into all four of those four factors: justice, humility, inclusivity, and trust.

We did our best to assure justice. We kept ourselves from catching and spreading COVID-19 by moving our worship to Zoom. When we did return to the building, we were still masked and enforcing social distance. These days we recognize that the congregation probably wouldn’t put up with an ongoing mask mandate, but we still want as much justice as we can muster for those who are immunocompromised. So to this day, our altar party still masks up for the distribution of communion.

We tried to approach the pandemic through a lens of humility. We didn’t buy into conspiracy theories; we followed the emerging science as best we could and strongly encouraged vaccinations once they became available. We recognized that online worship could not really replace worship in the building, but that it could tide most of us over for now. We decided we’d rather gather in awkward ways than not gather at all.

We accomplished inclusivity as best we could. I remember making phone calls on an endless cycle to everyone in the congregation, checking up on their physical and spiritual health. Those conversations also did a lot for my own well-being. And while we made as much space as possible for the various ways people were negotiating quarantine, we were exceedingly careful. We didn’t manage to keep all our parishioners connected during those years, but we did OK.

Above all, we tried to maintain trust in one another, and we learned how hard that can be when we’re not in the same room, breathing the same air. In a time of isolation and fear, it’s easy to imagine that something someone said in an email was more aggressive than it was intended to be. Trust built slowly over time can erode through lack of attention or fall apart in a single careless moment. Our community did not remain completely unscathed by this. How could we? We’re human beings.

But overall, I was proud of us. I was impressed by this community’s ability to maintain justice, humility, inclusivity, and trust during some very difficult years. Many congregations shrank dramatically during the pandemic; Good Shepherd did not. If anything, I think we got gradually healthier because of an inherent spirit of kindness in this place—a spirit I will miss when I’m away from you. But after my sabbatical, I’ll get to return and belong with you all again.

This season of Advent is an important season for a culture steeped in loneliness—for people who just aren’t sure they belong anywhere in particular. We might technically belong to a family, a church, a club, a nation—but really, truly feeling we belong can remain elusive. If our self-image has been damaged by abuse or trauma, belonging may feel impossible—but it can be built up again by those who treat us with justice, humility, inclusivity, and trust.

Advent is a time to prepare for the overwhelming reality that, yes, we do belong! We belong in this universe because God created it for us. And we belong to one another. This should be assumed, and it should require nothing from anyone. Yet I observe that each of us only gets to feel we belong through the hard work of others. So it’s also our responsibility to help others feel they belong.

And so we hear today from Baruch, who was scribe to the Prophet Jeremiah: “Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.” Look, my people! God is giving you clothing to wear—the beautiful clothing of humanity that will always mark you as belonging to God.

In Paul’s most joyful letter, he writes to the church in Philippi: “You hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God’s grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel.” Though the Romans have locked Paul away, he does not feel disconnected from this community, because he knows they are praying for him. And because he knows that we all belong to God, this means that Paul, too, belongs to the Philippian Christians.

Then, in Luke’s gospel, we are introduced to John, son of Zechariah—yes, that John. John the Baptizer. John quotes Isaiah—whom Baruch has also quoted—to call everyone to change their lives, to make ready for God’s arrival. All those who belong in a household have a responsibility to help clean house! And when this happens, John proclaims, “All flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

Did you hear that? All flesh is included, because everybody belongs! The definition of divine justice is that God will rescue everyone from whatever threatens their souls. We have a role to play in preparing the way, but God is the one who will make it happen, not us, so … stay humble. And trust the words of the prophets to strengthen you and remind you that God loves you and wants only growth and joy for you.

Now, if you have ever felt in the church the opposite of belonging—injustice, arrogance, exclusion, or fear—I’m so, so sorry that happened. Truly, that can happen anywhere, including the church, because we’re human beings. But hopefully, the church can at least keep reasserting our goal: to help people feel their true belonging and even to assume that they already truly and always belong, regardless of the times flawed people have hurt them.

I became a priest because so many times in my childhood I felt I didn’t belong—at least, not at school, among my peers. I knew I belonged to God and to my family, but I learned as I grew that this was not a given for everyone. I decided always to help others feel—and know—and assume the belonging that I myself got to experience growing up.

Today, as we like to do twice a year, we are publicly welcoming a crop of new members. We’ve been doing this ever since I arrived at Good Shepherd. Now, we don’t only accept new members twice a year—that can happen anytime. If you are baptized and say, “I want to be a member,” them boom! You’re a member. If you are not baptized, that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. It means that we’d like to invite you to hang your hat here with us and explore, in a dedicated way, the implications of committing to the Christian life—by working alongside Christians, by hearing their stories, by sharing and absorbing the formative stories of our faith, and by engaging in daily and weekly prayer. Then, if you want to follow Jesus and join in the work of the Church, baptism is how you do that.

All of these things happen at Good Shepherd in carefully facilitated ways—through the worship and music planning that Alan and I do together, and through the classes and small groups created by our Faith Formation Team. After Christmas Eve, I will be on sabbatical, but these things will continue. I don’t even know yet what all will take place while I’m away. I guess I’ll find out when I return after Easter Sunday!

I’m going on sabbatical now because we agreed when I started that this could happen after five years—and also because, believe it or not, I’m still exhausted from the pandemic! I need to get away for awhile and reboot my soul. This is truly a good time for me to step away, because Good Shepherd is, by and large, a happy, healthy congregation. You have good systems for getting things done, and that’s important. You have generous people contributing both money and time to the work of the

Holy Spirit in this place. You have Carola von Wrangel stepping in to cover me at half time. You have everything you need for the next four months without me.

And that’s great news, because the church is not the property of the priest, and the priest doesn’t simply “do church for you.”

Did you know that technically, I am not and cannot be a member of Good Shepherd? I pledge money to Good Shepherd, but my membership resides in the Diocese of Olympia. This is your church, not mine! I am your employee; I serve at your pleasure. I bring my own unique gifts to use alongside yours.

So it’s up to you to what degree you will make space for people not only to belong, but to know and feel and assume that they belong. That does take work—the work of investing in one another. Cultivate thoughtfulness. Take a parish directory and use it to pray for another and to keep in touch with one another. Give little gifts. Invite people to do things with you. Meet the people you don’t yet know. Meet people from another generation, and learn their names well. This is just what we do here—because through God’s love, we all already belong.

 Amen.