Sometimes they pronounce it very plainly. “You are not a team player.”  Other times it is much subtler in little glances or even the lack of eye contact. The message is clear, there has been an unpublished decree from some upper room, “you don’t belong here.”  It is a subtle treatment that wears a person down over time.  It is like a rope that has been stretched and wrapped so often it has become a frayed in the middle.  The ends are still OK, but there is a fear of putting any large strain on it.  The rope might just break.

It happens to anyone who doesn’t seem to quite fit the mold, the current standard, or group expectation.  It happens to anyone who makes others squirm a little when they are confronted with someone not quite like them.  But to the maverick, to the person who is a little different, the message is as plain as if it was plastered over the announcement screen in the middle of the morning service.

Most of us can recall incidents in our lives when we felt pushed aside when we were left out; times we didn’t belong. And those memories are always painful.

It’s a lonely feeling when you know you don’t belong. I went out for freshman football in my hometown.  The school was on emergency double sessions because the main Gymnasium had burnt down during the summer.  But the bus only ran in the morning.  The practices were in the afternoon.  I was a new kid, untried and unknown.  I didn’t even know much about football.  I was separated into the “other” group.  I felt if given a chance I could well make the team.  But being segregated early set my fate.

You are welcome to attend and give of your offerings, but don’t ask to be included in any ministry.  You don’t fit into the current vision for the church.  There are some attempts to bring the stray lamb back into the fold: a text message, a canned card from the Sunday School and the like.  But really when finally understanding the tense atmosphere I was a part of it was not enough.  Nothing like the parable of Jesus in leaving the ninety-nine to find the one.

I have become an itch the leadership of the church can’t scratch, and they don’t know how to deal with it. What’s more, we aren’t willing to try. We’ll just stick to how we’ve always done things because that’s what keeps us comfortable. If you would be just a little more normal.   After all, it’s sometimes necessary to sacrifice the needs of the few for the needs of the many.“

The rest is history.

We left the church after a grueling, anxiety-riddled couple of years.

Listen carefully: if a church sends you the message that you don’t belong, then get up and go. Shake the dust off your feet and move on. They are wrong, but fighting will only make things worse. Trying to push for inclusion in a place where you’re not wanted is an exercise in futility. Accept it for what it is, feel the pain, and walk away.

There are greener pastures ahead, I assure you. There are churches and faith communities who will open their arms to you and say, “You belong here.”  That is what I yearn for.  A community of flawed people loving other flawed people.

We all need a place to belong. We need to know we’re welcomed, wanted, loved.

In a well-known passage of the gospel of Luke, a “sinful woman” brashly enters the home of a respected Pharisee during a dinner party. She breaks a jar of perfume and anoints Jesus’s feet with it, and all the guests are shocked and appalled.

“She doesn’t belong here!” they cry.

But Jesus refutes their claims and blesses her for being right where she is.

Because every single person belongs at the feet of Jesus. He never turns anyone away.