Last Sunday, when Sandra was leading the joys and concerns there was a light-hearted moment.  She mentioned Jim Miller’s niece, at which point I rudely interrupted to say it was Pam Miller’s niece.  The Millers confirmed it was Jim’s niece we were praying for, at which point my dear, beloved friend Sandra exclaimed, with a big smile on her face, “See John.  You’re not always right.”  It wasn’t that she said this with glee.  It’s that she said it with such exuberant, joyful glee.

This is grist for my prayer life.  What’s the deeper message when someone tells you, “See, you’re not always right.”  Does it mean, “You’re usually right?”  I suspect the true message goes somewhat deeper.

I feel comfortable talking about this loving rebuke because I know I’m not the only person here who thinks I’m usually right.  Even humble, docile Sandra has some rather firm opinions that she’s willing to have coaxed out of her.  We’re all usually right.  The world would be a lot better off if people only listened to us.

Two weeks ago, the group known as the “Long Rangers” reflected back to us the range of opinions about First Church that they’ve heard from all of us over the past year.  Some people said we have a great ministry to children.  Some said our ministry to children is very weak.  Some said we’re welcoming and warm.  Some said we’re cold and cliquey.  Some said they like the sermons.  Some said they don’t like the sermons.

I don’t know if this question was actually stated out loud, but I certainly heard it in the background:  What do we make of this huge divergence of opinions?  What ties them together?  What ties us together?  This morning I’m going to offer an answer to that question.  I say, “an” answer, having been reminded that I’m not always right.

What I think ties all these opinions together is that they have very little to do with why we all come to church in the first place.  I’m not saying these opinions aren’t important.  They are important in the sense that people do decide which church to belong to based on what we do for children, and whether they like the services, and what the church does in the wider community, and so on.  But these opinions aren’t the main thing.

People — that is, we — come to church because it’s a way to belong.  The search for God is all about where and how we belong. 

I know I could be wrong.  Some of you will disagree with this and tell me why later.  But I’ve been thinking about this question for the past thirty years and this is the best answer I’ve come up with so far.

We come to church to find God and to find each other, to find kindred spirits, or even soul-mates.  We’re not looking for people who agree with every opinion we have.  That wouldn’t be very interesting or helpful anyway.  We’re looking for people whose way of seeing the world, and whose language, and emotional sensibilities, are close enough to ours so that we can help each other live our lives in a richer way.

We want a place where we can be vulnerable, where we can cry during a hymn, or talk about our fears and disappointments.  We need people to remind us that our lives are worth living, and that our lives are beautiful, even with the fears and disappointments.  We’re looking for people to know us, and like us, and care about us, and even pray for us.  We’re looking for intimacy.  We’re looking for comfort and reassurance and meaning, and a larger purpose.

Now, having said that, let me add one qualification.  I know you like qualifications.  Not everyone wants the same amount of intimacy and comfort and reassurance and meaning.  Right now, some of you are saying, “Intimacy?  Yuck.  Let me out of here.”  We don’t all want or need to belong in the same way, or with the same intensity, or with the same self-exposure.  But the need to belong is what brings people to the church.  It’s what binds us together.

The question facing us as a congregation is: how can we be a church that blesses more people in this way?  This is what being a Christian Church calls us to be, but there’s something more urgent driving that question.  The number of people who do belong to this congregation is slowly going down over the years.  This is true for most churches like ours.  Some churches nearby may close their doors in the next five years.

We’re not going to close our doors, but we can’t go on indefinitely being the kind of congregation we are without involving more people.  Our future depends on it.  This form of life we enjoy — being a congregation that balances commitment to the Christian tradition with genuine searching and questioning — this kind of community is an endangered species. 

The tendency seems either for churches to become hard-line and doctrinaire (which, by the way, does provide a powerful sense of belonging and structure) or for people to give up on any kind of faith community whatsoever. 

Do we believe it’s important for there to be churches like this one?  If so, how are we willing to change in order to make this congregation more viable in the future?

These are important questions.  The answers won’t be simple or crystal clear.  We’re not going to find total, or even widespread, agreement on a single strategy.  Whatever strategies we choose will involve a lot of trial and error.  But at the heart of our effort, at the heart of our reason for even making an effort, is this need to belong, this need to find each other in a deep way.

If we don’t belong, or feel that we don’t belong, our spirits starve.  That’s true for us.  It’s true for anyone who might join us in the future.  The conviction and feeling that we do belong, and that others whom we don’t even know yet also belong — this is where Jesus Christ will lead us if we’re willing to follow.  Jesus said, “I will make you fishers of people.” 

Every first-time visitor who comes here is asking, consciously or unconsciously, “Is this a place where I might belong?  Is this a place where I am wanted?  Are these the kind of people I want to be with?  Are these the kind of people I want to be like?

If we find God, we will find each other and we will find people we don’t even know yet.  If we find each other, we will find God.