Connectedness goes beyond your club
I own a motorbike. It was given to me by my in-laws (who inherited the bike but had no need for another one), and I love riding it. To be on a motorbike in the sunshine on a curvy road is an amazing experience. Another aspect I like about riding is "the wave."
Riders are part of a community, and they usually acknowledge each other as they drive past each other with a wave. I noticed quickly that overeager new riders tend to give a "Hi Mom!" kind of wave, but more experienced riders will be much more nonchalant about it. It can simply be two fingers lifted off the left handlebar, or the left arm fully extended toward the road.
The point is, riders notice each other on the road and acknowledge one another. When I owned a Mitsubishi Delica (right-hand drive 4x4 van), I got the wave from other Delica owners. Same with runners who pass each other.
Even followers of Jesus do this to one another. Have you ever worn a shirt that has a bible verse or Christian slogan on it, and someone out of the blue says, "Nice shirt," while giving you the "knowing look"? Jamie and I call that the secret Christian club. You are acknowledging to other followers of Jesus that you also are a follower of Jesus without actually saying you are a follower of Jesus.
It is human to desire community. People want to belong to something bigger than themselves. Even "lone wolves" and shy introverts find solidarity with others of the same ilk.
There are many bible verses about the need for community in our life, but what really stands out to me is a prose piece by the sixteenth century Christian poet, John Donne:
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less...
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
~ John Donne, excerpt from Meditation XVII
We often acknowledge "those like us," whether fellow followers of Jesus, motorcycle riders, runners, or anyone akin to us in some way. But John Donne had it right. We are part of a larger fellowship. It's called "humanity." Every human being is made in the image of God. Every human being is loved by God. Every human being is part of my extended family.
So when humanity suffers, so do I. When the funeral bell tolls for one person, it also tolls for me because it marks the death of a part of humanity.
Whether it be the discovery of a mass grave in Kamloops, or poverty-stricken starvation in Madagascar, or a child sold into sex slavery in Cambodia, it all affects me.
Or at least it should.
PAUSE AND REFLECT: You are not an island. When tragedy strikes, like it did two weeks ago in Kamloops, or last week in London, Ontario with the murder of a Muslim family, do you feel it? Or does our heart only break for those in our club, who are like us in some way?
God does not put the burden of changing the entire world on my shoulders. But he does ask me to do my part in joining him in his compassionate mission to the world, and as we are slowly transformed by the loving work of the Spirit, our heart begins to soften to feel the brokenness of others.
So what's your next step? It may start with prayer -- praying to feel the heart of God for humanity, praying "Your kingdom come, your will be done..." but chances are it will not end with prayer. God will move you to further action, if you let him.
It is natural to feel and acknowledge connection with those like us in some way -- fellow riders, fellow Christians, or fellow artists. But it is godly to feel and acknowledge that same connection with all of humanity.
—
Photo by Rafael Lopes de Lima on Unsplash