As I said at the time …
A rather telling article in Pennsylvania Mennonite Heritage was by a woman who admitted she never felt that she fit in with the others in her home congregation. Never mind she was the preacher’s daughter. I sometimes feel the same way in Quaker circles, especially when everybody else is wearing Birkenstocks or has a used Volvo parked in the lot or carries any number of postgraduate degrees behind her name. Once, addressing a group of about forty Friends in Philadelphia, I mentioned the predominance of blue eyes in our circles – and about six other people nodded vigorously. The six who had brown or hazel eyes, like mine; the rest of the group seemed thoroughly bewildered.
It’s all about this sense of not being fully embraced by the circle.
I wonder how we would react if a soldier in uniform showed up to worship with us, or a woman wearing a great deal of makeup, or a man straight off a lobster boat. Yes, we would tolerate them (I hope). But would we feel awkward – to say nothing of them? Would we be able to truly extend a welcome? How would we all feel, in the end?
Our possessions and style extend subtle signals reflecting our places in a larger society. Dover Friends Meeting is not a blue-collar community. Our vocal ministry often relies on “big words” and metaphors – something we seem to prefer, rather than pointed messages that drive home an unmistakable point. Even so, while we stand apart from the larger society in many ways, perhaps we engage ourselves in it too much. These are ultimately matters to consider when striking a balance between inclusion and identity, nurture and welcome, growth or decline.
To be accurate, Birkenstocks and Volvos aren’t the indicators anymore – they’ve been replaced by Teva and Prius or some other brand name I don’t even recognize. What I do suspect is that whatever the current “humble” status item is, I won’t have it, except by accident. Whatever that means in the context of belonging.
Jnana's Red Barn 
All people should need to belong is heart. Alas that is often not enough everywhere.
Strong message there! And an important reminder. We can keep trying, harder, right?
Absolutely!
How many of us fit in, and yet do not fit in, in our communities of faith … and how does one “try harder” at that?
Perhaps part of “belonging” is knowing in which respects you don’t, and being a representative of those parts of your culture in your community? A living prompt to broaden the thinking and life of the place?
That’s one answer I came up with, anyway, when I was sent to a parish where I didn’t think I belonged at all. Which raises another question; can the minister for a congregation ever really “belong,” or must he or she always stand slightly apart?
Wonderful questions. I suspect the answer to the standing apart is that there will be a distance, even among those like the Amish and Mennonites, where the minister and his family are expected to be models of faithfulness, even though he was selected by lot from a pool within the community.