Belonging: From the Doorway to the Destination

For years my default map of faith ran like this: believe → behave → belong. Get the ideas right, get your act together, and then you’re in. Over time—through scripture, pastoring, and a lot of table-time with neighbors—I shifted to belong → believe: make room at the table first and let faith grow in the soil of relationship.

Lately, one more turn has become clear for me and, I think, for our church: belonging is both the road and the destination. We don’t just start with belonging; we travel by belonging. We practice it, fail at it, return to it, and discover that the end of the journey is the same as the means: being held in Love together.

Why belonging?

Theologically, belonging is not a soft on-ramp—it’s the heart of the gospel. From Eden’s “Where are you?” to Jesus’ “Come and eat,” God keeps moving toward people before they move toward God. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus forms community before he quizzes anyone on doctrine: he calls fishermen, eats with tax collectors, welcomes sinners, and tells stories where the party starts before people are “ready.” (Think of the Great Banquet in Luke 14 or Zacchaeus in Luke 19.)

Belonging is how grace feels when it lands in a room. It’s what justification sounds like at a dinner table.

Radical hospitality at Riverfront

This is why radical hospitality is one of our core practices at Riverfront Family Church. We don’t throw the word “radical” in for flair. We mean hospitality that goes to the root—radix—of the gospel: God makes room for us in Christ, so we make room for one another.

Hospitality here is not an event, a coffee station, or a friendly vibe. It’s a discipleship practice:

• We set a longer table and expect to be surprised by who sits down.

• We refuse to make agreement the price of admission.

• We protect belonging with clear boundaries for safety and dignity, not to gatekeep but to keep the gates open for the most vulnerable.

• We assume that the Spirit is already at work in every person who walks through our doors—and that we will meet Christ in them.

Loved first, always

Brennan Manning helped me put words to this. He wrote, “God loves you unconditionally—just as you are, not as you should be.” And again, “Define yourself as one radically beloved by God.” Those lines refuse the bargain we keep trying to strike with God. If love can be earned, it can be lost. If love is gift, then it’s secure.

So belonging isn’t a perk for the pious—it’s the evidence of grace. We belong because God’s love got to us first, and nothing we do—good or bad—alters God’s posture toward us. As Manning insisted, grace means we are already, truly, deeply held.

Not a transaction

Robert Farrar Capon pressed the same point from another angle: the gospel is not a transaction. One of his sharpest lines says, “Grace cannot prevail… until our lifelong certainty that someone is keeping score is brought to nothing.” If salvation is a deal, then the anxious math never ends and belonging is always provisional. But if salvation is a party thrown for the unworthy, then belonging is the whole point—and the whole method—of the Christian life.

Belief inside belonging

Someone always asks, “But doesn’t belief matter?” Absolutely. We preach Jesus crucified and risen; we confess the historic faith; we teach the Scriptures. The shift is sequencing and tone. Belief grows best inside a community that already treats you like family. Trust precedes understanding. Love opens the ears.

When Jesus reads Isaiah in Nazareth (Luke 4), he declares good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind. That wasn’t a doctrinal exam; it was a welcome announcement. Belief—real, deep belief—takes root in that environment.

Practices that make this real

1. Tables > stages. We prioritize shared meals, circles, and conversations over one-way performance. Transformation is relational.

2. Names > numbers. We track stories of care and connection more than attendance or “decisions.”

3. Access > agreement. You don’t need to think like us to serve alongside us, sing with us, or sit in leadership development spaces; we journey together and tell the truth as we go.

4. Confession & repair. Belonging is not pretending. We confess harm, seek repair, and keep learning how to hold one another well.

5. Open posture to the city. Our belonging spills outward—into hospitality, peacemaking, and healing—so that neighbors experience the welcome of God through us.

The road and the destination

“Belong before you believe” was a good start. But more and more I see that belonging is the Christian life: we practice it on Sunday and carry it into Monday; we receive it from God and extend it to our neighbors; we stumble and try again. And the promised future? It looks like a feast where everyone has a seat, where tears are wiped away, and where Love has the last word.

Or, to borrow Capon’s image, the scorecards are shredded and the music is loud. And Manning would remind us why: because we are loved—already, always, forever.

So come as you are. Pull up a chair. Bring a friend. Ask your questions. Offer your gifts. Let’s keep walking this road of belonging together—until, by grace, we discover we’ve arrived at the destination of belonging, too.

“Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” (Romans 15:7)