Belonging and Being Sent

Belonging to God means both being rooted in something other than yourself and serving something other than your self!

2 Kings 5:1-14
Psalm 30
Galatians 6:(1-6)7-16
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

 

©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen. 

 

Hello, my name is Seth, and I am your rector. It’s been 4 Sundays, 28 days since I have preached in this pulpit. I’ve missed this AND… I have a lot to say! So, let’s go!

 

Last week at Camp McDowell, I was reminded again how desperately young people want to know that they belong. 

That they are seen…

That they are accepted… 

That they matter… 

And, honestly it’s not just true for young people—we all want that, don’t we?

 

The theme for my program all week at Junior High 2 Session was “You Belong Here.” You belong here not just in the superficial way of fitting in or being included in a group photo, but in the deeper, sacred way that says you belong to God. And if you belong to God, then you also belong to this world that God loves, which means you belong to others. You belong to community. And, in this community that means you belong to the mission.

 

Which brings us to today’s Gospel.

 

Jesus sends seventy followers—seventy everyday disciples—ahead of him to the places he himself intends to go. That’s a beautiful paradox latent in this passage: the sent ones are not separated from Christ. They are not lone rangers on a mission of their own design. They’re sent with power, yes, but also with vulnerability. “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals… eat what is set before you.” They go with their whole lives—messy, uncertain, unfinished—as their testimony. 

 

They go ahead of Jesus, which seems counter-intuitive. However, when I was a camp counselor, I would often walk at the tail end of my campers, as they traveled from activity to activity. More often than not, they already knew the way, but what they needed was encouragement. They yearned for someone not to bark orders, but to shout direction or to start a cheer that would unite us as one! Of course, these disciples didn’t go as one—not as individual beings I mean. 

 

They were sent two by two—because belonging is never a solo endeavor.

This is a text about being sent. But it’s also a text about being rooted—grounded in God’s peace, in the life of the community, and in the assurance that we belong to the one who sends us. We are apostles—which means sent ones—not because we are perfect, but because we are known and loved by Christ.

 

And as the Church of the Holy Apostles, that ought to sound familiar. In this year when we are recognizing 30 years of this community, we can remember that at our church’s genesis we were sent from other Episcopal churches, from other denominations, from other places to be here. And, I believe God will continue to send us. 

 

The seventy from today’s Gospel lesson were not just sent to deliver information. They were sent to create connection. “Whatever house you enter, say first, ‘Peace to this house.’” Not debate. Not judgment. Not even persuasion. Peace. Do I need to repeat that? They were sent to create connection. Not debate. Not judgment. Not even persuasion. Peace. The world is desperately craving this. We are built to be united, but…

 

In a world where people feel increasingly fragmented—where algorithms divide us, politics harden us, and busyness isolates us—Jesus sends us as ministers of peace, to show others that they belong to God, and to one another.

 

But here’s the part I don’t want you to miss: in order to proclaim belonging, we have to believe we belong ourselves. And that is harder than you think.

 

For we have to know deep in our bones that we are not imposters or outsiders in God’s household. That’s why during this past week at camp I began the spiritual program not with service projects or grand tasks, but with grounding the campers and staff in this truth: “You belong here.” Belonging isn’t something you earn by good behavior or high performance. It’s something you receive—like the gift of grace, which shares a connection with the fascinating story from our First Lesson.

 

In our Old Testament reading, we meet Naaman, a great military commander who carried an invisible wound—a skin condition that set him apart, that made him feel unclean, unwhole. He wanted to be healed, but on his terms. He came with money, status, and expectations., but God didn’t meet him in power. God met him in humility. The prophet Elisha did not even come to the door. Instead, he sent a messenger with a simple prescription: “Go wash in the Jordan seven times, and you shall be clean.”

 

At first, Naaman resisted—thinking how could it be so easy?! But then, thanks to the quiet courage of his servants—people he likely overlooked—Naaman surrendered. He dipped in the muddy waters of the Jordan, and he was made new. He found healing not through power or prestige, but through belonging to a God who met him in humility.

 

That’s our God. A God who uses the ordinary to do the extraordinary. A God who meets us in the places we are tempted to feel ashamed, and says, “You belong. You are not beyond my reach.”

 

Psalm 30 put it this way:
“You brought me up, O Lord, from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down to the grave.”

 

This is the voice of someone who has known alienation, who has felt disoriented, who has been cut off. But they are brought back. Restored. Reclaimed. As Richard Rohr puts it so succinctly, the pattern of this life is order, disorder, reordering or life, death, and resurrection!

 

Which brings us to Paul’s words in Galatians.

He ends this beautiful, complicated, passionate letter with a call to community:
“Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

 

This is what belonging looks like in action. Not just warm feelings or inclusion for inclusion’s sake, but mutuality. Vulnerability. Bearing burdens. Carrying each other. Making space at the table not out of pity, but out of shared humanity. Witnessing one another’s life, death, and resurrection, as we share our own struggles of order, disorder, reordering. 

 

Saint Paul inspires us in this holy work writing:
“Let us not grow weary in doing what is right.”

 

Of course, if we are honest: the work of proclaiming peace, building community, and practicing belonging is exhausting sometimes. We grow weary of hard conversations. Of cultural divisions. Of our own inner doubts and wounds.

 

But God through Paul encourages: we sow now so that others may reap later. We love now so that others may heal later. We show up in Jesus’ name so that others might realize they are not alone.

 

So, beloved friends, holy apostles, here is what I want you to hear this morning:

You belong here.
Not just because your name is in the directory.
Not just because you serve or give or sing in the choir.
You belong here because Jesus has called you, sent you, and is with you.

You belong to God.
You belong to this world that God loves.
You belong to the mission of healing and reconciliation.
You belong to the household of peace.

And because you belong, you are sent.

Just like the seventy.
Just like Naaman’s servants.
Just like Paul.
Just like those campers and staff who learned this week that belonging isn’t just something you feel—it’s something you offer to others.

So go.

Go as apostles—not perfect, but faithful.
Go two by two, bearing burdens and good news.
Go with no sandals if you have to.
Go to declare peace.
Go knowing that Jesus is already ahead of you.

You belong here. So go to help others know that they too belong to God.

Amen.