The Slow Process of Belonging

I have never been a Run Club kind of person. I enjoy running by myself, and motivation is not a challenge for me. I don’t need other people to keep myself accountable or to pass the time during some of the many kilometres I spend on foot each week. I started going to Corners Run Crew for other reasons. I liked what they stood for; I liked that they combine running with being a force for good in the community; I liked the idea of connecting with people outside of my regular social (church) circle.

I started going to the early Thursday morning run. It was not without anxiety and discomfort. People were friendly enough. I could usually find someone to chat with in the minutes leading up to the leader’s morning introduction and the start of the run. But lots of people were there with their friends and weren’t exactly looking for someone else to drop in on their conversation. Social time always follows the run, but I usually feel pressed for time and slip off once the out-and-back loop is complete. Despite thinking the run group is a good and friendly thing, most Thursday mornings, I would fight the temptation of my familiar solo routine rather than attempting the awkward process of trying to fit in.

Some inner doggedness kept me going, though, and I started to feel a sense of accountability to one or two others in the group. Friendships formed; I realized that I had become a part of someone else’s weekly routine, and they had become part of mine. The more that I went, the more that I found myself in easy and casual conversation with a variety of people. I liked that talking about running would lead to talking about a lot of other things, too.

It won’t surprise you that there’s a metaphor for church here, although I don’t have a lot of advice to offer as a result. The church motto ‘you don’t have to believe to belong’ has found some currency around Church Land. Research suggests, and anecdotal evidence bears this out, that the youngest generations are less interested in sorting out the answers to all of life’s most pressing questions and more concerned with a sense of community and purpose. I went to church as the lone teenager in my congregation, and that didn’t bother me because I didn’t need church to be my social circle and because I wanted to know the whys and wherefores of Christian belief and of liturgical practice. I wanted to hear a meaningful exploration of the Bible’s many mysteries. My kids and their cohort seem to be much more engaged with a commitment to community and how what we believe translates into how people get treated.

These are trends of which we should be aware. And more than that, we need attentiveness to what a high bar ‘belonging’ can actually be. We can say the most welcoming things, produce a great church product, and offer reassurance of inclusivity and acceptance at every turn. And also, the doggedness that it takes for someone to keep coming back long enough that they actually start to feel connected—for that connection to feel natural or even effortless—is something to keep front of mind. It takes an exceptional combination of perseverance and kindness for a person to form a new habit and truly experience belonging.

I think of all of the things that drew me to that run club: I love running, enjoy people, and wanted to connect. And I think of how tempting it still can be, every Thursday, to do my own thing rather than going to run club.

I also think of what, and who, made the difference. There was a set of core values that the group articulates intentionally and continually, and that made me want to be part of something. There were those who adopted a posture suggesting they were open to talking. There were groups of friends who clearly enjoyed being together but also made a point of welcoming others. There was the act of running, of running with others, of that simple act of solidarity, slowly, so slowly, opening the door to friendship.

I am grateful that grace and luck kept me going long enough to start to find what I was seeking.