By Father Casey

From the very beginning, the Bible tells the story of belonging. Genesis 1 tells the story of how God made all that is with purpose and planning, and how we have been set in the midst God’s abundant goodness. Life is no accident, it tells us. We belong here. Genesis 2 tells a separate story about belonging, in a sense building on the first. We belong here, yes, and that belonging comes with a responsibility:

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it (Genesis 2:15).”

It would be easy to interpret this simple statement as an expression of possession and dominion. And quite often, humanity has seen it as our job to transform the earth in order to make it produce for us. We have tilled and kept, alright, using and using until the earth has finally revealed it can, in fact, be used up.

But a closer look at those two little words – till and keep – reveals something essential about belonging. They are translations of the Hebrew words abad and shamar. Abad does infer work, but its context in Scripture usually means “to work for” someone else.  It might just as easily be translated “serve” or “tend.” Likewise, shamar does infer keeping, but it might better be translated “watch over” or “preserve.” Which is to say, when the world was given into the care of humanity, God gave us the sacred responsibility of tending and keeping, serving and preserving.

As much as we belong here, then, our belonging is not something that simply happens. Belonging is something we cultivate and maintain. Being near other people doesn’t automatically result in a feeling of belonging, because true belonging requires effort and engagement. It requires us to abad and shamar. We must tend and keep, serve and preserve, work for and watch over our world and one another. Then, and really only then, will we experience the deep relationships in which we feel loved and known. Then and only then will we feel at home.

This weekend Transfiguration will celebrate our 50-year partnership with Parish Episcopal School. The story of our relationship is a remarkable success, as both church and school have grown from fledgling, intertwined roots into thriving, independent communities. Just as Transfiguration has grown and flourished in that half-century, Parish has gone from a “day school” of a few dozen pre-school kids to a two-campus institution of over 1,100 students from pre-school to grade 12.

I have said it before, but it bears repeating: most church-school relationships are a source of anxiety and frustration, rather than joy and encouragement, but this could not be further from the case with Transfiguration and Parish. We see our relationship as a source of mutual benefit and support. We view our partnership as a blessing. We are friends who share a common mission of forming healthy people for loving service in the world.

The reason for our strong relationship is that, instead of taking it for granted, as though proximity and history will ensure health and stability, we abad and shamar it. We tend and keep it. We work for and watch over it. We take it seriously and put in the effort and energy necessary to be real friends. And as a result, 50 years later, we remain partners, sharing a campus and supporting each other in our missional endeavors.

Belonging is not something that just happens. Even in a loving community committed to “seeking and serving Christ in all persons,” true belonging only happens when we make the effort. And that’s a two-way street. The community around us makes the effort to provide programs, events, and ministries that foster meaningful relationships. And in return, as individuals, we make the effort to show up, participate, and engage with others.

So, when we talk about belonging at Transfiguration, when we proudly proclaim “you belong here,” please remember that is both a promise and a calling. Whoever you are, wherever you come from, whatever it is that makes you who you are, you belong in the community of faith we call Transfiguration. And now that you’re here, God asks you to abad and shamar – to do the work required to care for this good world and the good people around you. Because just being here won’t help you know the fullness of belonging God intends. It’s only when we lean into the holiness of tilling and keeping our community that we will find our church is nothing less than Eden.