Where do you belong?

My name is Georges and I am a disciple of Jesus. He’s my teacher, best teacher ever. And I’m learning him. I’d heard people say he was a prophet, a teacher come from God. A good man, a miracle worker, the Messiah even. So much mystery!  But I figure I can talk to him about everything. Literally everything. We go back 50 years now. That’s when I stepped into his story. 

The teacher asked me one day, “Who are your parents? Where do you belong?”

“My mother is Anastasia, my father is Paul. My mother’s mother was Katherine.”

“And before that?”

“I’m afraid, no one kept records. My story is short.”

“How about you, teacher, where do you hail from? Who are your people?”

“My story is generations long, longer than you can imagine. My people were meticulous when it came

to recording ancestry. Strangely, my story has no beginning, although my human story has one.”

“You could say I’m the story-teller of my own story.”

“Huh? You got my attention. What do you mean?” I asked, squinting my eyes to understand this mystery.

He noticed the squinting. “I’ll tell you about that another time. For now, the story is I have many fathers and mothers.”

“Right, every child’s dream is to have many of those!”

Without paying attention to my remark, he continued, “My father was Abraham, a wandering Aramean. My other father was David, King of Israel.”

“That’s impressive! What about your mothers?”

“Ah!” He started counting on his fingers. “Let’s see. There’s Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bath Sheba, and Miriam. Miriam is the one I was born from. The other mothers are ancestors just like David and Abraham are.”

“But your father. You must have a father from whom you were born!”

“Not in the human way. I come from God. From the Holy Spirit. But I was born into Joseph of Bethlehem’s family. As I said earlier, that’s a story I’ll tell you another time.”

“That’s quite the story.”

“It’s the best of stories. I love to tell it. I told it to Matthew and Luke. They included it in the beginning of their Gospels. The way they wrote it out helps show my place in God’s story.”

“What place is that?”

“From my father Abraham, my place in God’s story is to fulfill God’s grand plan to bless the world. God told this to Abraham in Genesis.”

“What about David?”

“From David, you’ll see I get to finally establish God’s heavenly rule promised on earth.”

I told him I needed time to digest all this. He let me be. Later, I returned to the conversation. “Since I’m your disciple, one now attached to you, what’s my place in this story?”

“Ah, an excellent question, Georges. What a quiet few minutes can do! Your story is not just your story. You too are a part of the bigger story, the story of God.”

“So our stories are connected?”

“They sure are! I came so you can be included in the story. To help you belong. And even more, to bless you too. Just like Father and I promised.”

“You keep saying that! Yea, one big happy family!”

“Perhaps not always happy, but pretty big yes. By earthly count it’s 2 billion big, from every tribe and nation. It’s the way the story is supposed to go.”

“What about the other 5 billion and more? Don’t they belong?”

“They will if they get written into the story. Your job is to tell them the story.”

“So there’s a place in the story of God for everyone?”

“Sure is! I told father Abraham he will bless all peoples. There’s 5 billion left to be blessed! And I assured David that his kingdom will not end. We’re only getting started!”

As I remembered this conversation later, I reflected on how his story in Luke 1:1-17 is an open story. All the generations lead to him. But his generation never ends. There is room for everyone to belong in the same story. And everyone gets to be blessed and bless others.

I then pondered the future. I saw a new heaven and a new earth. I envisioned the Teacher making all things new. I saw a people assembled from every nation, tribe and tongue worshipping in the new heavens and new earth. One happy family. And the New Jerusalem, the new city full of the glory of God, where “all things new” was reality. I bowed my head in prayerful thanksgiving