Four Functions: Belong

(part 2 of 5 posts on the four functions of neighborhood life)

Dances With Wolves! I am Wind In His Hair! Do you see that I am your friend?

Can you see that you will always be my friend?

-Wind in His Hair, speaking to Lt. Dunbar in Dances with Wolves

It's an unforgettable image at the end of the epic film Dances with Wolves: Sioux warrior Wind in His Hair, horseback on the cliff above the camp, yelling his loyalty to his friend Dances with Wolves at the top of his lungs. It's a great story of true belonging. Dunbar's previous attachments--the US Military, White expansion across the west, etc.--had proven to lack nourishment for his soul. Though he couldn't have been more different than the Sioux in appearance, background or experience, the sense of belonging within the tribe drew him like a moth to a flame. Eventually he was one of them, in ways deeper and more substantial than blood or background. As Sioux elder Ten Bears says to him, "The white man the soldiers are looking for no longer exists. Now there is only a Sioux named Dances With Wolves." The movie is so powerful because the innate need to belong is so universal. And like Lt. Dunbar, something inside tells us that civilization has robbed us of a deeper sense of belonging people enjoyed in simpler times. In a world of personal computers, Ipods, HDTV and a car for every adult, we still want to be in the tribe.

If the church is anything, it is a belonging organization. But civilization has robbed the church of its sense of belonging. In his book The Connecting Church, Randy Frazee found examples of effective community in gang life that surpassed most church experiences. Think about it: there is a common purpose in which all members are heavily invested; participation is not casual; members are fiercely loyal to one another. In contrast, church is more a commodity than a tribe in most people's experiences.

My hope is that the Springs will be more like a gang than a commodity (minus the gunfire), more like a tribe than an institution. Our turf is the Clear Springs area. Our purpose is to love God and our neighbors and help them do the same. We will not be satisfied with occasionally gathering to play verbal ping-pong ("how are you?" "--fine, how are you?" "--fine, how are you?" "--fine...") and listen to a sermon, but will intertwine our lives closely with others who live near us, know us and our families, and are fiercely loyal to us as brothers and sisters in Christ. This kind of environment is not built overnight, but over time and shared experiences that bond people together. It is not experienced in an auditorium, but might be forged during a family illness or while helping a couple through a rough spot in their marriage. It might be built by those who were present when the baby was born, or those who were there to cheer at the kids' baseball game. It might be made real when the group was willing to listen to all the doubts about whether God really cared or even existed, and still remained loyal friends, or when they celebrated together at the baptism in the backyard pool.

Usually the first question someone asks me when they find out I'm a pastor is, "where is your church?" These days I answer with something about our area of town and the fact that services will be at the YMCA, but honestly I dislike the question. I'm looking forward to the day when the question, "where do you go to church?" is irrelevant. I'm looking forward to being able to talk about my tribe in Magnolia Creek, and the one in the Parks on Clear Creek and the ones in Dickinson and Brittany Lakes. "You know, the ones who bring life to the neighborhood, who belong in a way few experience these days. Yes, those. You should join them."