INCLUDED [W, 2-26-25]

BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Musings of An Old Man—INCLUDED [W, 2-26-25]

 

The only way a new kid could get accepted in my childhood inner-city neighborhood was by breaking the line in Red Rover. Acceptance meant you got to join the line. The big bully boys would lock their arms and dare me to try to break through. But I wasn’t just the newest kid. I was the youngest and weakest. No way I could join that line. Until their mothers sent their little brothers and sisters out to play. The longer the line got, the more chances there were to break through. Better chances, too. And I so much wanted to be included…

Inclusion. That has been the theme of my life. Because I knew how painful it was to be excluded, I wanted everyone else to be included, too.

I had a big extended family. My mother was one of 8 children, my father one of 7. Until I was 4, my immediate family often lived with my paternal grandparents, because it was Great Depression days. I learned that inclusion was best in a wide circle.

If you try to get included in a small circle, and you are rejected, the hurt and shame are great. If you try for inclusion in a big circle, even if you are rejected in one place, you might be accepted somewhere else.

In our small nuclear family of four, I often felt excluded. Our parents spent so much energy trying to work out their relationship that they often had none left over for my older sister and me. Mary V was a great older sister, including me in her love and concern, but almost 5 years older, she often wanted time to herself or with other girls her age. I was often left on my own, roaming the streets of Indianapolis at age 8 and 9, looking for some place to belong. I liked to roam especially in the winter, when lights came on early, because I could look into the houses as I walked by on the sidewalk and see scenes of inclusion. In those houses, I could imagine that everyone was included. in my own house, I knew that was not true.

In my early years, until we moved to the farm when I was 10, I just wanted to be included. I didn’t want responsibility for including others, leadership of the circle. Likewise, I was afraid of rejection. That was even worse that exclusion. So, I didn’t try too hard for inclusion. I mostly looked on from the outside.

But Oakland City was a different world. I didn’t need my small family circle. Kids on the school bus and in my class thought it was not only acceptable but good to have a new kid. I had friends! My circle was widening. I saw new possibilities. I not only enjoyed inclusion, but I wanted to extend it to others. Big circles were best. I wanted to have a role in making the circle bigger.

I think that is why I was elected class president in high school, year after year. I knew the names of everybody in the class. I called them all by name. I made sure that each got a personal invitation whenever there was a class party or other event. I was everybody’s friend.

I think that is why I became a preacher. Yes, I traded my life for my sister’s, but that was the mechanism, not the impetus. In the church, everyone is included. Everyone in the world.

To me, it just felt like common sense, natural, to include people who are usually excluded, such as ethnic or gender minorities, people who are “different.” It made no sense to me that anyone could be excluded from the world created by a God who was willing to sacrifice himself, in Christ, for everyone.

John Robert McFarland

“Perhaps the secret of living well is to pursue unanswerable questions in good company.” Rachel Naomi Remen