Lately, as I have begun a new job that I feel pretty inadequate at, and as I get ready to start at my fourth new school in four years, I've been doing a lot of thinking about the importance of the feeling of belonging.
In early high school I went on two Brio missions trips. Brio, for those who might not know, is (well, was...) a Christian girl's magazine put out by Focus on the Family.
The term Brio Magazine used to describe its subscribers was "Brio Sisses". They would use that term over and over again and I loved it. It made me feel so connected to something bigger than myself, something where I had a lot in common with the other people in the same network. I think a part of the draw for me to go on these missions trips was the appeal of actually joining up with other "Brio Sisses" so I could soak up how wonderful it was to be surrounded by people who understood where I was coming from.
Words cannot describe how great it was to talk to these other girls from all over Canada, the US and various other parts of the world and have conversations like,
"What's your favourite band?"
"Superchic[k]!"
"Me too!"
I think... I did a good job of being the ultimate Christian subculture poster child.
But now, just like a whole slew of others, I've awoken up from it all and realized that that world is not the point of why Jesus came. And that its a "world" with all its own drawbacks and evils, just like the one it tends to shun.
I think, though, that in desperately wanting to be a part of that world, I was simply desperately searching for community. And I'll probably always be doing that in some form.
Now I am somewhat in between catagories, I think. I like to think I'm a Christian hippie in the making, or something like that. I don't feel cool and artsy enough to be a real hippie, but I'm not conservative enough or as in touch with what's going on in Christian Subculture Land to be a part of that world either.
But does anybody really fit in to a rigid catagory? Should anybody fit into a rigid catagory?
What roll does conformity play in authentic community, if it plays a part at all? And does authentic community even have anything to do with labels like "Brio Sis" or "hippie"? Or is it about doing one's best to have all the different labels of people feeling accepted and loved under the same roof? Or something else entirely?
I was reflecting recently on our Quest experience and specifically how we experimented with knowing and being fully known. We may have done that in Quest, but what happens when all your quest friends move away and your left with no one whom you know and they fully know you? And then i though, "Why haven't I gotten to know somebody like I did last year?" Is it because I fell as if I haven't met anyone recently who I can feel comfortable with, or does that comfort come from the leap of faith when you become vulnerable with the person you don't really know.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if this fits with what you're saying... but I think I miss that feeling of belonging that we all had last year and I often wonder why I havn't been able to find community like that again. Is it because we are to gaurded to go beyond the questions of "What's your Favorite Band?" Is it because we are trying to find people who are exactly like us before we seek community with them?
I think often it starts with a commonality, regardless of how obscure that commonality may be.
ReplyDelete"I'm a Questie." "Me too!" *Maybe we'll be friends.*
"I have issues with my Dad." "Me too!" *Maybe we'll be friends.*
(In some other country): "I'm a Canadian." "Me too!" *Maybe we'll be friends.*
But then I think the authenticity of the relationship is gained from seeing the other person, or other people, in several different contexts: kinda drunk, praying, over-joyed, pissed off, working with four year-olds, hiking up a mountain, flirting, broken-hearted, voting for their favourite political party... etc. And the more contexts you see them in, the more opportunity you have to either make it known that you accept them as they are or reject them (or at least part of them). I think that's why a prerequisite to so many intentional communities (like Quest) is that you live together. Its hard to hide from people who are always around you, sharing your stuff and being in a mutual relationship of reliability with.
Then, of course, even in that context you can still be too scared to get all your shit on the table (there's a pretty picture...) and just keep hiding. There might be a rational reason for hiding - not everyone is safe. Or there might not be. I'm glad you felt comfortable enough in Quest to put yourself out there.
I must admit though that unlike you, in Quest, I hid. I definitely wasn't fully comfortable within Quest to be myself, but then, I'm the sort of person who doesn't feel like I'm *really* friends with someone until we've known each other for at least twelve months.
I've also found that its harder for me to be "myself" around other Christians in general, because I know they have a standard of morality that I just cannot hope to live up to. Its far easier for me to open up to non-Christians because I know that probably they've done worst things than I have, or, at least they probably know someone who has.
BUT, Quest did teach me the importance of being fully known and accountable to other Christians, so I did eventually go through with that when I got home, with friends I had known for years.
Maybe you haven't found that kind of close bonding again because people you met this year weren't quite as ever-present as they were in Quest. And nobody is probing you to tell your whole life story to them either.
But I don't know. Why do you think things changed?