Belonging Beyond Borders

Scripture Genesis 12:1–9        

Romans 4:13–18

Matthew 9:9–13

"Rainbow" by John August Swanson.

Have you ever had to move to pursue a calling? 

Those of us in this room who are pastors, would likely say yes. We heard God’s call, and so we may have moved to pursue our seminary education, and then again to enter the ministry. 

Perhaps you moved to pursue your education.

To seek new job opportunities.

Or to serve in our armed forces.

Those of you still in high school or college may be preparing for such a move in the near future. 

It may be the case that you've moved for what didn’t feel like a calling at all, but a practical necessity. 

Perhaps you had to move while a family member pursued their next opportunity? 

Or you have to move back home to care for aging family members.

Or perhaps the job was just a job to make ends meet.

Or instead of  seeking new opportunities you were simply seeking safety—both for who you are and who you are becoming. 

Whatever the reason, many of us know what it is like to leave behind something familiar and step into the unknown. We know what it feels like to say goodbye to places, people, and ways of life that once helped define who we were.  Some of us also know the disorientation that comes when a new chapter of life challenges the assumptions others have made about us—or the future they imagined for us.

In today’s scripture readings, we hear two stories of people responding to calls. 

In today’s reading from Genesis, we hear God tell Abram,  “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” 

And in our Gospel reading we hear Jesus' invitation to Matthew, “Follow me.” To accept, Matthew must leave his old life and his livelihood behind.   

Last week I offered this definition of belonging: 

 "Belonging is a felt sense in our bodies of safety, power, wholeness, and welcome."

The question we might ask is, what happens when life circumstances require us to leave the places where we once belonged?

Whether it be leaving home. Changing careers. Immigrating to a new country with a different language or culture. Coming Out as anything other than cisgender or straight. Or perhaps you didn’t go anywhere, but the world around you, your family, community, or the culture, are changing all around you. 

Because belonging can be difficult enough even when life is stable. 

But when everything begins to change? 

The question becomes, how can we experience belonging, that sense of safety, power, wholeness, and welcome, when everything changes? When we find ourselves on the move, perhaps by choice, perhaps not.

So what does Scripture have to say about moments like these?

Let's turn to our story from Genesis. 

Here in Chapter 12, we meet Abram and Sarai for the first time. The couple is probably most familiar to us now as Abraham and Sarah, but those name changes would not happen until later in the story. 

When we meet Abram and Sarai, they are already… and I saw this with respect to those in the room who might protest…   elderly. The couple has no children of their own. This was a big deal in their culture and community. Lineage was everything and children represented its continuation. 

Not having children of their own likely caused heartache, however their nephew Lot, is portrayed like an adopted son. And so when God tells Abram to go from his country, kin, and home, the family goes out together. 

This event signals an important turn in the Book of Genesis. 

Up until now, the Book of Genesis has been a story about everyone. The Creation mythos tells of how the world came to be. The Tower of Babel tells of humanity’s early experiments. Even the stories of human families led by Adam and Eve and Noah, are told to have implications for us all. 

But then suddenly the story zooms in on one ordinary person. And one ordinary family. 

Readers of the text have asked, why was Abram the one God calls on?

The text gives no reason. There is no heroic backstory. No special qualifications.

Early Jewish interpreters were struck by this question—Who is this particular Mesopotamian that God should call him specifically and make such astounding promises to him? That he would make a great nation and that God would bless him so that all the families of the earth may be blessed. 

Some early interpreters decided it was because Abram was the first monotheist. Within rabbinic literature, there is a story that goes like this: Abram’s father, Terah, was a maker of idols. As a young man, Abram discerned that the idols were false gods and that there was only one true God. So one night he snuck into his father’s workshop and burned all the idols. Therefore, the rabbis concluded, he was worthy of God’s choosing. 

This is a compelling tale, especially for the father of three great monotheistic religions—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—but there is no such explanation in the Bible itself. 

There are moments when it seems that Abram must prove his faith in order for God to fulfill His promise…But in this initial calling in Genesis 12, in this initial encounter between God and Abram, the promise is given as a gift, as pure grace, freely given and completely unearned. 

And yet, to receive that gift, Abram, and his family,  must leave their country, community, and home. They must leave everything that provided them identity and security. They are uprooted and sent off a nomadic lifestyle, “journeying on in stages,” as the Bible says.

Without all that had previously provided stability in their lives, belonging may have seemed a luxury. 

Unless, that is, if our sense of safety, agency, wholeness, and welcome do not depend on external sources of stability but on the stability of our relationship with the One who created us and calls us onward.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus calls an unlikely disciple.

Matthew is a tax collector for the Roman Empire. He would have been viewed with suspicion by his neighbors and looked down upon by the religious establishment. He was, in a sense, "othered"—and perhaps there is no greater opposite to belonging than being treated as an outsider.

And yet, this man, considered unworthy of a divine calling because of his profession, is beckoned by Jesus: "Follow me."

What a powerful invitation that must have been. With just two words, Jesus offers Matthew more than a new vocation. He offers him a new community, a new purpose, and a new sense of belonging. Matthew leaves behind his livelihood to become not only a disciple—a follower of Jesus—but an apostle, helping to build a movement rooted in mercy, justice, and faithfulness.

And what Jesus does next is just as important. He doesn't simply call Matthew; he sits down at table with Matthew's friends. Tax collectors. Sinners. Outsiders. People whom others had written off. In doing so, Jesus reveals something essential about God's kingdom: people belong not because of purity, but because of the gift of grace. 

Then when sharing a meal with Matthew and his friends, Jesus demonstrates that belonging is not merely something we receive; it is something we are called to create. The blessing of Abraham was never meant to stop with Abraham. It was always meant to overflow. God blessed Abram and Sarai so that all the families of the earth might be blessed through them. In the same way, Jesus calls disciples not simply to follow him, but to participate in the work of widening the circle of belonging.

June is a time of celebration, community, and belonging for many LGBTQ+ people. But it can also be a difficult time for our community especially for those of us who spend any time on social media. For every story of authenticity and joy, there are voices insisting that we do not belong. For every family-friendly Pride event, there are lies about grooming and abuse.

And for LGBTQ+ people of faith, there is a particular pain in seeing the very scriptures that we call sacred, used as weapons against us. We can find ourselves cast out of the story of God's people and cut off from the God in whom we find our deepest sense of belonging.

So today, as a community that long ago discerned its call to be an open and affirming congregation, welcoming with open arms all who come through our doors, we celebrate this truth:

That we all belong to God.

No matter whether we are gay or straight. 

No matter whether we are Cis or trans. 

Whether ace, intersex, pan, nonbinary, or genderfluid. 

Whether you have no idea what any of those words mean or you are the one teaching them to others.  

Whether your faith feels strong today or fragile; whether you feel close to God or very far away—

You belong to God.

And if today you came here feeling as though you have wandered far from home, if you are seeking forgiveness, healing, assurance, help, or simply a reminder that you are loved, today is a good day to come home. Home to the God who is the ultimate source of Belonging. Of that felt sense  of safety, agency, wholeness, and welcome. 

For wherever the journey leads, and however many stages it may take, the God who called Abram and Sarai still calls. The Christ who welcomed Matthew still welcomes. The Spirit who journeys with God's people still journeys with us.

And no matter where you are, God awaits you with open arms.

Amen.

Sermon preached by Rev. Delaney Piper on 6.7.26 .