（学期最后一次聚会，桌上多了一盒不知道谁带来的月饼，大家都比平时坐得靠近一点）
一、我到底算哪边的人？
Jenny：（搅着奶茶，情绪有点低落）我最近老在想一件事，说不清楚哪里不对，就是心里空空的。我妈是华裔，我爸是欧裔，我在温哥华出生长大，中文说得磕磕巴巴。上次回国内见亲戚，我表姐直接说「你其实是外国人吧」，虽然是笑着说的，但我心里挺不是滋味。可在学校，我又不完全算「主流」白人小孩，我从小就知道自己「不一样」。这两边好像都不完全是我的地方，那种悬空的感觉，你们懂吗？
Jack：（点头）我懂一部分。我是留学生，虽然是二代基督徒，从小在教会长大，但我在这边永远是「国际生」，选课分组的时候，本地同学的小圈子我很难真正进去。暑假回国，老同学又说我「你现在讲话都有点洋腔了，跟我们不太一样了」。两边都有点格格不入，我甚至开始怀疑，是不是我这辈子就注定要一直这样漂着。
Peter：我是CBC，从小在这边长大，倒没有Jenny和Jack那种「两边都不属于」的感觉，但我有另一种——我身边很多同学根本不知道「团契」是什么，我上周五晚上说要去查经，我室友愣了一下，说「哦，你还信这个啊，挺特别的」，那种被当成异类打量的眼神，我也不太舒服，好像我突然从「正常人」变成了博物馆里的展品。
Tom：（插话）我更惨，我是CBC，但我还没受洗，我自己都不确定该怎么定义自己——说是基督徒吧，我很多方面跟教会的期待对不上；说不是吧，我从小到大又一直在教会里，跟不信的同学聊起来，人家觉得我是「圈内人」。我自己都搞不清自己算哪边的。
John：（认真听着）你们几个说的，其实是同一个更大问题的几种面貌——「我到底属于哪里」。我自己也算半个「哪儿都不完全属于」的活案例——中文说得一般，英文带口音，每次回国被说「你怎么这么加拿大」，在这边又时不时被问「你的英文名是不是你真名」，属于两边通吃地不上不下，你们这个感觉，我太熟悉了。这个问题，不只是文化认同的问题，圣经其实一直在正面回答这个问题，只是它给的答案，跟你们现在想的「哪个群体、哪个国家、哪种文化」不完全是一回事。
Jenny：那圣经怎么回答？
John：彼得前书里，使徒彼得写信给一群分散在小亚细亚各地、被称为「寄居的」信徒，直接称呼他们是「被拣选的族类，有君尊的祭司，圣洁的国度，属神的子民」。这些人，很多是被赶出家乡、流散各地，跟你们的处境不完全一样，但那种「不完全属于当地、也回不去原来的地方」的悬空感，跟你们描述的很像。彼得没有跟他们说「别难过，你们其实很快就会找到一个新的地上家乡」，他说的是——你们最根本的身份，不是靠地上任何一个群体来定义的，是神自己给你们的，一个超越地理、超越文化的身份。而且彼得讲的不是一个人单独拿到一张「属神」的身份卡就够了，他一连用了好几个群体性的词——族类、祭司、国度、子民——老普林斯顿的圣经神学家沃斯（Geerhardus Vos）特别强调过这一点，大意是，神的国从来不是让一个个孤立的个体各自安放身份，是把不同背景的人放进同一个身体里，用一种比地缘、比血缘更深的方式彼此联结。所以你们说的这种「哪儿都不完全属于」的感觉，最终的答案不只是「我心里知道自己属于神就好了」，是神也把你们放进了眼前这群人当中——这个团契，某个意义上，就是那个更深归属的一个具体、看得见的样子，虽然不完美，但是真实的。
Jack：那这个身份，能不能真的解决我那种「悬空」的感觉？听起来还是挺抽象的。我表姐那句话说完，我难受了一整天，不是听一句「你是属神的子民」就能立刻消化掉的。
John：我理解这种抽象感，这不是听一次就能立刻消化掉的。我想换个角度问——Jenny，你觉得，如果有一天你回国内，亲戚不再说你是「外国人」，或者在这边，大家都完全接纳你「够本地」，那种悬空感会不会就彻底消失？
Jenny：（想了想）……可能会好一点，但我猜不会完全消失，因为我认识一些看起来「完全融入」了的朋友，比如我有个朋友，父母都是本地人，从小在这边长大，完全没有我这种文化夹缝的问题，可她心里其实也有类似的不安，只是理由不一样——她焦虑的是她好像「太普通」，没有什么特别的身份标签，反而羡慕我「至少有故事可以讲」。
John：这正是我想指出的——那种悬空感，不完全是「文化归属」这个层面能解决的问题，因为就算你找到了一个「完美融入」的群体，人心里那份「我到底是谁、我最终归向哪里」的不安，还是会用别的形式冒出来。圣经说的是，这份悬空感，背后其实是在指向一个更深的事实——我们本来就是照着神的形象被造，本来就是要在祂里面找到最终的归属，任何地上的文化、群体，都没办法完全填满那个位置，不是它们不好，是它们从来没被设计来扛这个位置。
Peter：（这时提出自己的困惑）那我说的那种「被当成异类」呢？我不是文化归属的问题，是我发现，现在学校里一讨论性别、政治、公义这些话题，气氛特别撕裂，一不小心说错话就被贴标签。我上周Sociology的Tutorial，讨论一个跟移民政策有关的话题，我随口提了一句跟主流意见不太一样的角度，结果TA当场脸色就变了，虽然没直接骂我，但那种「你是不是有问题」的眼神，我到现在想起来都不舒服。
Tom：这个我也怕，我室友知道我信教之后，有次聊到一个社会议题，直接说「哦那你肯定是保守派、反对这个反对那个」，我都没来得及解释，就已经被贴上标签了，之后他跟我聊天都带着一种防备。
John：这个处境确实不容易，我不会假装有一个能让你「既表达立场又永远不被误解」的公式。我想先说一件事——你感受到的这种撕裂，很大程度上是因为，这个时代很多讨论已经不再是「就事论事地辩论谁的理由更站得住脚」，变成了「先看你站哪一边，再决定要不要听你说话」。这个环境本身有问题，不完全是你个人的问题。
Jack：那我们该怎么参与这些讨论，才算有智慧？
John：我想给几个方向，不是万能公式。第一，先问自己，我开口，是想「赢」这场辩论、证明自己对，还是真心想帮对方看见一些他可能没想过的东西？这两种动机，说出来的话，语气会完全不一样。
Peter：可有时候不是我想不想赢的问题，是我发现，我跟同学根本没有共同的出发点可以讲道理。比如那次讨论移民政策，我用的理由，他们完全不接受，因为他们的整个框架里，压根不认同「有一个客观的对错」这回事，他们的说法是「每个人的处境不同，谁也没资格评判谁」。我一开口讲「这样做是不对的」，他们第一反应就是「你凭什么定义什么是对的」。
John：这正是我想跟你们说的第二个方向，也是更根本的一个——你遇到的这个墙，不是「我这次的理由不够好」，是对方压根不承认，有一个大家都能站上去、共同讲道理的地基。这种时候，光是拿出更多的证据、更精巧的论证，往往没用，因为问题不在证据这一层，是在更底下——他到底相不相信，这个世界有一个不由他自己决定的、真实的对错标准。
Jenny：那怎么办，难道就没法沟通了？
John：不是没法沟通，是要先把这个更底层的问题摆出来，而不是绕着它打转。你可以老实问对方——你说「每个人的处境不同，谁也没资格评判谁」，那你自己刚才评判我「没资格评判」，这句话本身算不算也是一种评判？如果连「不该评判」这句话都要被当作一条普遍适用的规则来讲，那他其实已经在用一个「大家都该遵守」的标准，来反对「有大家都该遵守的标准」这件事，自己先绊倒了自己。
Tom：（挑刺）这听起来是个语言游戏，把人绕晕而已，能真的说服人吗？
John：不一定能当场说服人，说实话，很少有人会因为一次逻辑上被抓到破绽，就立刻改变立场，人不是这样运作的。我说这个，不是给你们一个「辩论必胜技巧」，是想让你们自己心里先站稳——不要因为对方说得斩钉截铁、气场很足，就开始怀疑「是不是真的没有客观对错，是我们基督徒太死板」。你们可以带着尊重、带着谦卑去听对方，同时心里清楚知道，对方那套「什么都相对」的说法，他自己其实也没有真的活出来，包括他反对你的那一刻，他心里其实也在用一个他自己不承认、却真实存在的标准。
Amy：（这时开口，带着自己观察到的困惑）我旁听你们聊这些，发现你们说话的方式，跟我在网上、在课堂上看到的很多「基督徒 vs 世俗」的辩论完全不一样，没有那种「我们才是对的，你们都错了」的架势。
John：这本来就该是这样，我们不是要「赢」这个世界，是要活出、也说出一个更真实、更完整的图景，那个图景，本身就该比这个时代任何一个简化的立场，都更能容纳复杂性、也更能承载对人的爱。
Grace：（想起自己的经历）我想到我事奉的时候遇到的一件类似的事。我带的一个查经小组里，有个姐妹是Political Science的，她说她在系里，一提到自己是基督徒，同学就默认她「一定支持某些立场、反对某些立场」，好像基督徒身份跟一整套政治光谱直接画等号，她说她一次次解释「圣经的教导没有完全对应任何一个现有的政治阵营」，但没什么人愿意听，太累了，她后来干脆在学校尽量不提自己的信仰。
John：这个处境我完全理解，而且我想说一句可能会让大家不太舒服的话——有时候，「基督徒 = 某个政治阵营」这个刻板印象，不完全是外面的人凭空捏造的，是过去这些年，确实有不少教会、不少基督徒，把福音和某一套政治立场绑得太紧，好像信耶稣就等于必须支持某个党派的全部主张，这也是教会需要反省的地方。圣经确实有清楚不能妥协的教导，但圣经的教导，从来不完全对应这个时代任何一个现成的政治阵营，两边阵营各自都有一些立场，是圣经会肯定的，也各自有一些立场，是圣经不会认同的。
Grace：那她该怎么办，总不能一直不提自己的信仰吧？
John：不用一直不提，但可以换个方式——不是一上来就宣告「我是基督徒，我的立场是这样」，是先在具体的问题上，认真讲道理、认真听对方，让人看到，你的思考不是套模板出来的，是真的经过思想的。慢慢地，「原来这个人不是我以为的那种人」，这个印象本身，比任何一次辩论赢了对方，更能松动那个刻板印象。
Sophia：（这时换个话题，声音带着现实的重量）我毕业之后，其实一直在纠结要留加拿大、回国、还是去美国。这个决定里有太多现实因素——工签好不好拿、房价、还有我爸妈年纪大了，身体也不像以前那么好。我该怎么把信仰放进这个决定里，而不只是纯粹算一笔利益账？
John：这个问题很实际，我不想假装信仰能给你一个「标准答案」告诉你该去哪个国家，圣经没有那样的清单。我想给一个思考的方向——不管你最后去哪里，先问自己，我去那个地方，是不是也愿意在那里，找到、也建造一个真实的信徒群体，继续被塑造、也去服事人？如果一个决定，纯粹只是「哪里对我最有利」，完全没有考虑「我在那里要怎么活出信仰、怎么参与神的国度」，那可能这笔账，只算了一半。工签、房价、家人，这些都是真实、需要认真考虑的因素，不是不重要，是不该是唯一的因素。
讨论：
这一场聊到了两边都不完全属于的悬空感、在撕裂的社会议题讨论里被贴标签的处境、「基督徒=某个政治阵营」的刻板印象、还有毕业去留决定背后的信仰考量。John说，那种悬空感背后，其实是在指向一个更深的事实——我们的最终归属，不是任何地上的群体能完全给出的。请讨论：
1) 你有没有过「两边都不完全属于」的悬空感，或者因为信仰、立场被人贴标签的经历？
2) 听完今天的讨论，你觉得彼得说的「属神的子民」这个身份，能不能真的安放你心里那份悬空感？
二、如果什么都散了，我还剩下什么？
Grace：（叹气）我想接着问一个更让我不安的问题。现在我有团契、有几个知心的朋友，我的信仰有人一起托着。可这些都是暂时的——毕业了，大家各奔东西，将来我一个人在陌生的城市、新的职场，如果连一个能说心里话的信徒朋友都没有，我的信仰靠什么撑住？
Paul：（这个问题正好戳中他自己）我可以说说我的经验。我大学信仰其实挺热心的，天天参加团契。工作后前两年，真的是一个人硬扛，团契散了，新城市也没找教会，加上工作忙、时差乱，礼拜天累得爬不起来。那两年信仰淡得厉害，几乎快没了，不是哪一天决定不信了，是一点一点地，跟手机电量掉光一样，你根本没注意到具体哪一刻没电的。
Grace：那你现在觉得，「靠什么撑住」，答案是什么？
Paul：我现在觉得，不是靠「刚好有没有朋友陪着」这种运气，是要主动地、一次次地选择——去找教会、去建立新的关系，哪怕一开始很尴尬、很费力。信仰这件事，好像从来不是「一次建好了就永远稳」的，是要不断重新扎根的。而且我后来才想明白一件事——我那两年不只是「没聚会」，是我心里其实有个念头，觉得反正没人看着我了，一些以前我在团契里不敢做的事，我开始一件一件试着放开，喝酒喝多了、也开始跟不太合适的人交往，最后是那些事把我搞得一团糟，才逼我不得不重新面对神。
John：Paul说得很实在，也很诚实地把最难堪的部分说出来了，谢谢你。我想补充一点——圣经讲的信徒群体，从来不是一个「可有可无的情感支持团体」，是神设计来让我们的信仰能持续、能被建造起来的正常方式，希伯来书特别提醒「不可停止聚会」。所以Grace你的担心，不是杞人忧天，是很实际、也很该被重视的问题——不是说「反正神会顾念，你不用担心」，而是要提前预备，把「找到、建立新的信徒群体」这件事，当成毕业之后跟找工作一样重要、甚至更优先的事去对待。
Jack：那具体怎么预备？总不能到了新城市再手忙脚乱找。
John：可以现在就开始练习几件事——第一，练习不靠团契的活动，自己也能维持读经、祷告的习惯，这样将来环境变了，这个根不会一下子断掉。第二，多留意、多学习怎么主动认识人、怎么鼓起勇气走进一个陌生的教会，这个「主动」的能力，是可以现在就练的。
Peter：（想到什么）我室友的经历可能可以给大家提个醒。他不是基督徒，但他去年转学到多伦多，本来在这边有一群很好的死党，他说到了新学校，前三个月他一直告诉自己「反正我朋友都在网上」，天天跟以前的朋友视频、打游戏，完全没有主动认识新同学，结果三个月之后，他发现以前的朋友聚会的时间点，因为大家都各自忙起来，越来越对不上，慢慢就淡了，新的地方他也一个人都没认识，那段时间他说他整个人特别孤独，甚至有点抑郁的状态。后来他逼自己去参加了系里的一个社团，才慢慢好起来。
Jenny：那这跟我们信仰的事一模一样，靠「以前的」撑着，不主动往前走，最后两边都落空。
John：对，这正是我想说的。Paul那两年信仰的滑坡，跟Peter室友那种孤独，机制其实很像——都是以为「关系是自动维持的」，结果发现关系需要持续、主动地投入，信仰也是一样。
Tom：（换个话题，语气变得沉重）我想说件更大的事，可能有点跑题，但我最近真的被这个事困住。我看新闻看得挺丧的——到处是气候危机的报道、还在打仗的地方、社会一天比一天撕裂，AI又搞得人心惶惶。有时候我会想，这个世界好像真的在一点点崩坏，我们这代人是不是就是要眼睁睁看着它变得更糟？作为基督徒，我该怎么活在这样一个感觉正在崩坏的世界里？
Amy：（这次是真心认同）我完全没有信仰，但这个感觉我特别有共鸣，我经常刷完新闻，整个人都很无力，甚至有点不敢生小孩，觉得把一个人带到这么乱的世界里，太残忍了。我身边好几个朋友都这样想，我们私下聊起来，都有一种「船要沉了，大家都在假装没事」的感觉。
John：（认真地）你们说的这份沉重，我不想用几句轻飘飘的话打发掉。这个世界确实是破碎的，圣经从来没有说「一切都很好，别担心」，恰恰相反，圣经用「呻吟」这个词来形容整个受造界现在的状态——罗马书说，一切受造之物一同叹息、劳苦，直到如今。你们感受到的这份沉重，圣经不但没有否认，反而先一步替你们说出来了。
Amy：那这样说，不是更绝望吗？连圣经都承认世界很糟。
John：恰恰相反，正因为圣经诚实地承认这份破碎，它给的盼望才不是廉价的「往好处想」，是建立在一件更扎实的事上——同一段经文接着说，这个叹息、劳苦，不是没有方向的，是像产难一样，指向一个终将到来的更新——「等候得着儿子的名分，乃是我们的身体得赎」。基督教的盼望，从来不是「相信这个世界靠人类自己会慢慢变好」，是相信，那位造了这个世界、又亲自进入这个破碎世界、死而复活的主，有一天会亲自回来，彻底更新这一切，把所有的痛苦、不公义、破碎，都终结、都翻转。
Tom：可这听起来还是很遥远，我们现在还是得活在这个一天天在崩坏的世界里，这个盼望能改变我今天具体要怎么活吗？
John：能，而且我觉得这正是最实际的地方。如果我相信，最终的结局已经被那位掌权、又良善的神定了，祂会亲自来更新一切，那我今天面对气候危机、战争、撕裂，就不需要用两种极端的方式回应——一种是彻底躺平、觉得反正没救了、什么都不做；另一种是把「拯救世界」的整个重担，扛在自己一个人肩上，最后被压垮、被那份无力感吞掉。我可以在我能做的、具体的、微小的事上，认真、负责任地去做——节约、去爱身边具体的人、参与推动一点点公义，同时把最终的结局，交托给那位真正能掌管全局的神，不需要自己一个人扛住整个世界的重量。
Amy：（若有所思）所以你们的盼望，不是「相信世界会自己变好」，是相信「有一个更大的、来自外面的力量，会来收拾这一切」？
John：对，而且这个盼望不是让人对现在的破碎无动于衷，恰恰相反，正因为知道神在乎公义、在乎受苦的人，基督徒历史上常常是最积极投入照顾穷人、推动社会公义的一群人，因为我们知道，这些努力不是在做无用功，是在预尝那个终将到来的更新，哪怕做得再小、再不完美。
Jack：（这时想起自己的挣扎）说到「无力感」，我想说件我自己一直很纠结的事。我知道我该「治死」那种遇事就逃避、遇到大问题就习惯性摆烂划手机的毛病，可我发现，我这个毛病不只是表现在刷手机上——面对气候变化这种大新闻我摆烂，面对自己成绩不好我也摆烂，好像是同一种「反正我也改变不了什么」的心态，从这件事漏到那件事上。
John：这个观察很准，而且跟我们前几次聚会提过的一样——不治死所有的罪，就不能治死任何一个罪，因为很多看起来不一样的表现，背后常常是同一个根。你说的这种「反正我也改变不了什么」的无力感，如果只单独处理「刷手机」这一个症状，很可能会从别的地方——比如面对世界的大问题时的冷漠、麻木——重新冒出来。真正要处理的，是那个更深的问题：我信不信，我做的这些小小的、看起来微不足道的努力，在一位掌管万有的神手里，是真的有分量的，不是白费的。
Grace：（这时把话题拉回到更个人的层面）那我想问最后一个问题。毕业几年后同学聚会，我心里其实希望，别人提起我，会觉得我「混得不错」——事业稳定、生活体面。但我也隐约知道，如果这就是我全部想要的，好像哪里不对。我到底想让别人记住我什么？
John：这个问题，跟我们过去几次聚会聊的很多东西，其实都汇到同一个点上——如果「混得不错」是你全部想要被记住的，那份认同，会跟AI焦虑、跟GPA比较、跟别人觉得你「厉害」一样，永远不够稳、永远要不断重新证明。我想反过来问你——如果十年后，有个学弟学妹提起你，说「我记得那个学姐，她不是最厉害、最风光的那个，但她是真诚的、是我难过的时候会想到的人」，这样的话，你会失望吗？
Grace：（想了想，眼眶有点湿）……不会，其实这样更让我想被人这样记住。
John：那这份渴望，比「混得不错」更接近圣经说的、真正值得追求的东西——不是要你放弃追求把事情做好、活得体面，是当你把「被爱、被真实地认识」放在「被认为厉害」前面的时候，你会发现，那份不安，慢慢会松开一些。这不是一次谈话就能彻底改变的，是要在接下来很多年里，一次次重新选择。
讨论：
这一场聊到了毕业后独自撑住信仰的挑战、Peter室友因为不主动而陷入孤独的故事、面对一个感觉正在崩坏的世界该怎么活、还有Grace对「被记住什么」的重新思考。John说，基督教的盼望不是相信世界会自己变好，是相信那位造了世界、又亲自进入破碎的主，终将回来更新这一切。请讨论：
1) 如果十年后有人提起你，你希望他们记得的，是你「混得怎么样」，还是别的什么？
2) 这份渴望，跟你今天正在过的生活，之间还有多远的距离？
Lesson 10: Where Do I Really Belong? — Identity, Culture, and Staying True to What I Believe
(The last gathering of the semester. There is an extra box of mooncakes on the table—no one knows who brought them. Everyone is sitting a little closer together than usual.)
1. Where Do I Really Belong?
Jenny: (Stirring her bubble tea, looking a little down) I’ve been thinking about something a lot lately. I can’t really explain what’s wrong, but I just feel kind of empty inside. My mom is Chinese Canadian, my dad is European, and I was born and raised in Vancouver, but my Chinese is pretty broken. The last time I went back to China and saw my relatives, my cousin straight-up said, “You’re actually a foreigner, aren’t you?” She was joking when she said it, but it really bothered me. But here at school, I don’t completely fit in with the “mainstream” white kids either. I’ve known since I was little that I’m “different.” Neither side feels completely like home. It’s like I’m just hanging in midair. You know what I mean?
Jack: (Nods) I get part of that. I’m an international student. Even though I’m a second-generation Christian and grew up in church, I’m always “the international student” here. When we pick courses or form groups, it’s hard for me to really get into the circles of local students. Then when I go back to China during the summer, my old classmates say, “You even have a bit of a foreign accent now. You’re not quite like us anymore.” I feel out of place on both sides too. Sometimes I even wonder if I’m just destined to spend my whole life drifting between places like this.
Peter: I’m a CBC. I grew up here, so I don’t really have the same “I don’t belong on either side” feeling that Jenny and Jack have. But I have another kind of experience. A lot of the people around me don’t even know what “fellowship” means. Last Friday night, I said I was going to Bible study, and my roommate paused and said, “Oh, you still believe in that stuff? That’s pretty unique.” I didn’t feel great about the way he looked at me, like I had suddenly gone from being a “normal person” to an exhibit in a museum.
Tom: (Interrupting) Mine is even worse. I’m a CBC, but I’m not baptized yet, and I’m not even sure how to define myself. If I say I’m a Christian, there are a lot of ways I don’t line up with what the church expects. But if I say I’m not, I’ve still been in church my whole life. When I talk to non-Christian classmates, they see me as “one of the insiders.” I honestly don’t even know which side I’m on.
John: (Listening carefully) What you guys are describing are really different versions of the same bigger question: “Where do I actually belong?” I’m kind of a half-example of the “I don’t completely belong anywhere” experience myself. My Chinese is average, my English has an accent, and every time I go back to China people tell me, “Why are you so Canadian?” Then here, I sometimes get asked, “Is your English name actually your real name?” So I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, getting it from both sides. I know this feeling really well. But this isn’t just a question of cultural identity. The Bible has actually been answering this question directly all along. Its answer, though, isn’t exactly the same as the “which group, which country, which culture” answer you might be looking for.
Jenny: So how does the Bible answer it?
John: In 1 Peter, the apostle Peter writes to a group of believers scattered throughout different parts of Asia Minor, people who were described as “sojourners” and “exiles.” He directly calls them “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession.” Many of these people had been driven from their homes and scattered across different places. Their situation isn’t exactly the same as yours, but that feeling of “not completely belonging where I am, and not being able to go back to where I came from” sounds a lot like what you’ve been describing. Peter doesn’t tell them, “Don’t be sad. You’ll find a new earthly home soon.” What he says is that your deepest identity isn’t something defined by any earthly group. It’s an identity given to you by God Himself, one that goes beyond geography and culture. And Peter isn’t talking about each person individually getting a “belonging to God” identity card and calling it a day. He deliberately uses several collective terms—race, priesthood, nation, people. The biblical theologian Geerhardus Vos, from old Princeton, especially emphasized this point. In other words, God’s kingdom was never about isolated individuals each finding somewhere to place their identity. It is about bringing people from different backgrounds into one body and connecting them to each other in a way that goes deeper than geography or bloodline. So that feeling you’re describing of “not completely belonging anywhere” ultimately isn’t answered simply by saying, “I know in my heart that I belong to God.” God has also placed you among the people right in front of you. In that sense, this fellowship is one concrete, visible expression of that deeper belonging. It isn’t perfect, but it’s real.
Jack: But can that identity really solve that feeling of being suspended in midair? It still sounds pretty abstract. When my cousin said that to me, I felt awful for the whole day. Hearing “You’re one of God’s people” doesn’t just make that feeling disappear immediately.
John: I understand why that sounds abstract. This isn’t something you hear once and immediately digest. Let me ask it from another angle. Jenny, do you think that if one day you went back to China and your relatives stopped calling you a “foreigner,” or if everyone here completely accepted you as “local enough,” that feeling of being suspended in midair would completely disappear?
Jenny: (Thinking) …Maybe it would get better, but I don’t think it would completely disappear. I know some friends who seem completely “integrated.” For example, I have a friend whose parents are both from here, and she grew up here too. She doesn’t have the cultural in-between experience that I do at all. But she actually has a similar kind of insecurity inside. The reason is just different. She worries that she’s “too ordinary,” that she doesn’t have any special identity label. She actually envies me because “at least I have a story to tell.”
John: That’s exactly what I’m trying to point out. That feeling of being suspended in midair can’t be completely solved at the level of “cultural belonging.” Even if you find a group where you fit in perfectly, that deeper human anxiety of “Who am I, and where am I ultimately going?” will still come out in some other form. The Bible says that this feeling is actually pointing to something deeper. We were created in the image of God. We were made to find our ultimate belonging in Him. No earthly culture or community can completely fill that place. It’s not because those things are bad. It’s because they were never designed to carry that weight.
Peter: (Bringing up his own concern) What about the “being treated like an outsider” thing I mentioned? For me, it’s not really about cultural belonging. I’ve noticed that whenever people discuss gender, politics, justice, and things like that at school, the atmosphere gets really polarized. If you say the wrong thing, you can get labeled immediately. Last week in my Sociology tutorial, we were discussing an issue related to immigration policy. I casually brought up a perspective that was somewhat different from the mainstream view, and the TA’s expression changed immediately. They didn’t directly criticize me, but that look of “Is there something wrong with you?” still makes me uncomfortable when I think about it.
Tom: I’m afraid of that too. After my roommate found out I was religious, we were talking about a social issue once, and he immediately said, “Oh, then you must be conservative. You must be against this and against that.” I didn’t even have a chance to explain myself before I was already labeled. After that, whenever he talked to me, there was this sense of defensiveness.
John: That situation really isn’t easy. I’m not going to pretend there’s some formula that lets you “express your position without ever being misunderstood.” But I want to say one thing first. A lot of the polarization you’re experiencing comes from the fact that many discussions today are no longer about “debating which side actually has the stronger reasons.” Instead, people first look at which side you’re on, and then decide whether they even want to listen to you. There is something wrong with that environment itself. It isn’t entirely a problem with you personally.
Jack: So how should we participate in these discussions wisely?
John: I want to give you a few directions, not a magic formula. First, ask yourself: When I speak up, am I trying to “win” the argument and prove that I’m right, or do I genuinely want to help the other person see something they may not have considered? Those two motivations will sound completely different when they come out in the way you speak.
Peter: But sometimes it isn’t about whether I want to win. I’ve realized that my classmates and I don’t even have the same starting point for reasoning. For example, in that immigration policy discussion, the reasons I gave were completely unacceptable within their framework. They don’t even believe there’s such a thing as objective right and wrong. Their position was, “Everyone has different circumstances, so nobody has the right to judge anyone else.” As soon as I said, “That’s wrong,” their first reaction was, “Who are you to define what’s right?”
John: That’s exactly the second direction I want to talk about, and it’s a more fundamental one. The wall you’re running into isn’t necessarily that “my reasons weren’t good enough this time.” It’s that the other person doesn’t even acknowledge that there is a foundation that everyone can stand on and use to reason together. At that point, simply bringing more evidence or making a more sophisticated argument often doesn’t help, because the problem isn’t at the level of evidence. It’s underneath that. Does this person actually believe that there is a real standard of right and wrong that isn’t determined by them?
Jenny: Then what do we do? Does that mean there’s no way to communicate?
John: It doesn’t mean there’s no way to communicate. It means you need to bring that deeper question to the surface instead of going around it. You can honestly ask the other person: You say, “Everyone has different circumstances, and nobody has the right to judge anyone else.” But when you just judged me by saying that I “don’t have the right to judge,” isn’t that itself a kind of judgment? If “you shouldn’t judge” is being presented as a universal rule that everyone should follow, then you’re already using a standard that “everyone should follow” to argue against the existence of standards that “everyone should follow.” You’ve already contradicted yourself.
Tom: (Picking holes in the argument) That sounds like a language game that just confuses people. Can it actually persuade anyone?
John: It might not persuade someone on the spot. Honestly, very few people completely change their position just because someone catches a logical inconsistency in one conversation. That’s not how people work. I’m not giving you a “guaranteed debate-winning technique.” I want you to first have a firm foundation in your own mind. Don’t hear someone speak with absolute confidence and such strong conviction and immediately start wondering, “Maybe there really is no objective right and wrong, and maybe we Christians are just too rigid.” You can listen to the other person with respect and humility while also clearly recognizing that they don’t actually live consistently with their own “everything is relative” position. Even in the very moment when they oppose you, they are actually using some standard that they themselves don’t acknowledge but that is nevertheless real.
Amy: (Speaking up, puzzled by what she has observed) I’ve been listening to you guys talk, and I’ve noticed that the way you’re talking is completely different from a lot of the “Christians vs. secular people” debates I see online or in class. There’s none of that “we’re right and you’re all wrong” attitude.
John: That’s how it should be. We’re not trying to “win” against the world. We’re trying to live out and speak about a truer, more complete picture. That picture should be able to hold more complexity and carry more love for people than any simplified position our culture can offer.
Grace: (Remembering something from her own experience) This reminds me of something similar that happened when I was serving in ministry. There was a woman in one of the Bible study groups I led who was studying Political Science. She said that whenever she mentioned being a Christian in her department, her classmates automatically assumed she “must support certain positions and oppose certain positions,” as if being a Christian automatically meant belonging to an entire political spectrum. She said she explained over and over that “the teachings of the Bible don’t completely line up with any existing political camp,” but hardly anyone was willing to listen. She got so tired of it that she eventually just stopped talking about her faith at school whenever possible.
John: I completely understand that situation. And I want to say something that might make some of us uncomfortable. Sometimes the stereotype that “Christians = one particular political camp” isn’t something outsiders simply made up out of nowhere. Over the past several years, there really have been churches and Christians who have tied the gospel too closely to particular political positions, as if believing in Jesus automatically means supporting everything one particular party stands for. That’s also something the church needs to reflect on. The Bible does have clear teachings that Christians cannot compromise on. But those teachings never map perfectly onto any existing political camp in our current culture. Both sides have positions that the Bible would affirm, and both sides have positions that the Bible would not affirm.
Grace: Then what should she do? She can’t just avoid mentioning her faith forever, right?
John: She doesn’t have to avoid mentioning it forever, but she can approach it differently. Instead of immediately announcing, “I’m a Christian, and this is my position,” she can first engage seriously with the specific issue, reason carefully, and listen seriously to the other person. Let people see that her thinking isn’t just coming from a template, but has actually been thought through. Over time, the impression of “Oh, this person isn’t who I thought she was” can loosen that stereotype more effectively than winning any single debate.
Sophia: (Changing the subject, her voice carrying the weight of real life) After I graduate, I’ve actually been struggling with whether to stay in Canada, go back to China, or move to the U.S. There are so many practical factors involved—the difficulty of getting a work permit, housing prices, and the fact that my parents are getting older and aren’t as healthy as they used to be. How do I bring my faith into this decision instead of just treating it like a calculation of which option benefits me most?
John: That’s a very practical question. I don’t want to pretend that faith gives you a “standard answer” telling you which country to go to. The Bible doesn’t give us a checklist like that. I want to suggest one way of thinking about it. Wherever you ultimately go, first ask yourself: Am I willing, in that place, to find and also help build a real community of believers, to continue being shaped, and to serve other people? If a decision is purely about “Where is it most advantageous for me?” without considering “How am I going to live out my faith there, and how am I going to participate in God’s kingdom?” then maybe you’re only doing half the calculation. Work permits, housing prices, and family are all real factors that need to be seriously considered. They aren’t unimportant. They just shouldn’t be the only factors.
Discussion:
This conversation touched on the feeling of being suspended between two places because you don’t completely belong to either, the experience of being labeled in polarized discussions about social issues, the stereotype that “Christians = one particular political camp,” and the faith considerations behind decisions about where to go after graduation. John said that the feeling of being suspended in midair is actually pointing to something deeper: our ultimate belonging cannot be completely provided by any earthly group. Discuss:
1) Have you ever experienced that feeling of “not completely belonging on either side,” or been labeled because of your faith or your position on an issue?
2) After today’s discussion, do you think Peter’s identity as a “person of God” can really give a place for that feeling of being suspended in midair inside you?
2. If Everything Falls Apart, What Will I Have Left?
Grace: (Sighing) I want to ask about something that makes me even more uneasy. Right now I have fellowship, and I have a few close friends. There are people helping carry me in my faith. But all of this is temporary. After graduation, everyone will go their separate ways. What happens when I’m alone in an unfamiliar city, starting a new job, and I don’t even have a Christian friend I can talk honestly with? What will keep my faith going?
Paul: (This question hits close to home) I can share my experience. When I was in university, I was actually pretty passionate about my faith. I went to fellowship almost every day. But during my first two years of working, I really had to carry everything by myself. My fellowship group fell apart, I hadn’t found a church in the new city, and on top of that, I was busy with work and my schedule was all over the place. By Sunday, I was so exhausted I could barely get out of bed. During those two years, my faith faded badly, almost to the point of disappearing. It wasn’t that one day I decided I didn’t believe anymore. It happened little by little, like your phone battery slowly dying. You don’t even notice exactly when it reaches zero.
Grace: So now, what do you think the answer is to “What will keep it going?”
Paul: Now I think it isn’t about luck, like whether you happen to have friends around you. It’s about actively choosing, again and again, to find a church and build new relationships, even if it’s awkward and takes a lot of effort at first. Faith seems like something that is never “built once and permanently secured.” You have to keep putting down roots again. And later I realized something else. During those two years, it wasn’t just that I “stopped attending gatherings.” There was actually a thought in my heart that went, “Well, no one is watching me anymore.” So some of the things I had been afraid to do when I was in fellowship, I started trying one by one. I drank too much, and I started getting involved with people who weren’t good for me. Eventually those things made a complete mess of my life, and that forced me to face God again.
John: Paul put that very honestly, including the most embarrassing parts, so thank you. I want to add one thing. The community of believers described in the Bible was never meant to be an “optional emotional support group.” It is the normal way God designed for our faith to be sustained and built up. Hebrews specifically warns us not to give up meeting together. So Grace, your concern isn’t unnecessary worry. It’s a very practical issue, and it deserves to be taken seriously. It’s not about saying, “God will take care of you anyway, so you don’t need to worry.” It means preparing in advance and treating “finding and building a new community of believers” as something as important as finding a job after graduation, or even something that should take higher priority.
Jack: So how do we prepare specifically? We can’t just wait until we get to a new city and then scramble to figure everything out.
John: You can start practicing a few things now. First, practice maintaining habits of Bible reading and prayer even without relying on fellowship activities. Then when your environment changes, your roots won’t suddenly be cut off. Second, pay attention to and learn how to take the initiative in meeting people and how to find the courage to walk into an unfamiliar church. That ability to take initiative is something you can practice now.
Peter: (Thinking of something) My roommate’s experience might be a good warning for everyone. He isn’t a Christian, but he transferred to a school in Toronto last year. He had a really good group of close friends back home. He told me that when he arrived at the new school, for the first three months he kept telling himself, “My friends are all online anyway.” He video-called and played games with his old friends every day and made no effort to meet new classmates. But after three months, he realized that because everyone was getting busy with their own lives, the times when his old friends were free were becoming harder and harder to line up, and the friendships gradually faded. At the new school, he hadn’t made a single friend either. During that period, he felt incredibly lonely and was even in a pretty depressed state. Eventually he forced himself to join a club in his department, and slowly things started getting better.
Jenny: That’s exactly the same as what happens with our faith. If you keep relying on what you had “before” and never take the initiative to move forward, eventually you end up losing both.
John: Exactly. That’s what I’m trying to say. The way Paul’s faith declined during those two years and the way Peter’s roommate became lonely are actually very similar. Both assumed that “relationships maintain themselves automatically,” and then discovered that relationships require ongoing, intentional investment. Faith is the same way.
Tom: (Changing the subject, his tone becoming heavier) I want to bring up something bigger. It might be a little off-topic, but I’ve really been struggling with this lately. I’ve been feeling pretty depressed reading the news. There are reports of climate crises everywhere, places that are still at war, society becoming more polarized every day, and now AI is making people anxious too. Sometimes I feel like the world really is slowly falling apart. Are our generation just supposed to sit there and watch it get worse and worse? As Christians, how are we supposed to live in a world that feels like it’s falling apart?
Amy: (This time genuinely relating) I don’t have any faith at all, but I really relate to this feeling. I often finish scrolling through the news and just feel completely powerless. Sometimes I’m even afraid to have children because I think bringing someone into such a chaotic world would be cruel. Several of my friends feel the same way. When we talk privately, there’s this feeling that “the ship is sinking, and everyone is pretending everything is fine.”
John: (Seriously) I don’t want to brush aside the heaviness you’re describing with a few shallow words. This world really is broken. The Bible never says, “Everything is fine, so don’t worry.” Quite the opposite. The Bible uses the word “groaning” to describe the state of all creation right now. Romans says that the whole creation has been groaning and suffering together until now. The heaviness you’re feeling isn’t something the Bible denies. In fact, the Bible gives words to it before we even do.
Amy: Doesn’t that make it even more hopeless? Even the Bible admits that the world is terrible.
John: Quite the opposite. Precisely because the Bible honestly acknowledges this brokenness, the hope it offers isn’t some cheap “look on the bright side” message. It is grounded in something much more solid. The same passage goes on to say that this groaning and suffering isn’t directionless. It is like the pain of childbirth, pointing toward a renewal that is ultimately coming—“waiting for the adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.” Christian hope has never been about “believing that humanity will gradually make the world better by itself.” It is about believing that the Lord who created this world, who Himself entered this broken world, died, and rose again, will one day return personally and renew all things, bringing an end to and reversing all suffering, injustice, and brokenness.
Tom: But that still sounds so far away. We still have to live in this world that seems to be getting worse every day. Can this hope actually change how I live today?
John: It can, and I think this is where it becomes most practical. If I believe that the final outcome has already been determined by a God who is sovereign and good, and that He will personally come to renew everything, then when I face climate change, war, and polarization today, I don’t have to respond in either of two extreme ways. One is to completely give up, thinking, “There’s no hope anyway, so why bother doing anything?” The other is to put the entire burden of “saving the world” on my own shoulders until I’m crushed by it and swallowed up by my sense of helplessness. I can seriously and responsibly do the concrete, small things that are within my reach—use resources wisely, love the specific people around me, participate in pursuing a little more justice—and at the same time entrust the final outcome to the God who truly has the whole picture in His hands. I don’t have to carry the weight of the entire world by myself.
Amy: (Thoughtfully) So your hope isn’t “believing the world will get better on its own.” It’s believing that “a greater power from outside us will come and set things right”?
John: Yes. And that hope doesn’t make people indifferent to the brokenness of the present. Quite the opposite. Precisely because we know God cares about justice and about people who are suffering, Christians throughout history have often been deeply involved in caring for the poor and pursuing social justice. We know these efforts aren’t meaningless. They are a foretaste of the renewal that is ultimately coming, even if what we do is small and imperfect.
Jack: (Thinking of his own struggle) Speaking of “feeling powerless,” I want to share something I’ve been struggling with for a long time. I know I’m supposed to “put to death” my habit of avoiding problems and mindlessly scrolling on my phone whenever I face something difficult. But I’ve realized that this problem isn’t just about scrolling. I give up when I see big news about climate change. I give up when my grades aren’t good. It seems like the same “There’s nothing I can change anyway” attitude keeps spilling from one area of my life into another.
John: That’s a very accurate observation, and it’s connected to what we talked about in our previous gatherings. If you don’t put all sin to death, you can’t really put any one sin to death, because many behaviors that look different on the surface often have the same root underneath. The kind of helplessness you’re describing—“There’s nothing I can change anyway”—if you only deal with the symptom of “scrolling on my phone,” may simply come back in another form, like indifference or numbness when you face the world’s bigger problems. The deeper issue we need to deal with is this: Do I really believe that the small, seemingly insignificant things I do have real weight in the hands of a God who is sovereign over all things? Do I believe they are not in vain?
Grace: (Bringing the conversation back to a more personal level) Then I want to ask one final question. When I have a class reunion a few years after graduation, part of me honestly hopes that when people talk about me, they’ll think I “did pretty well”—that I have a stable career and a respectable life. But I also know, somewhere inside, that if that’s all I want, something feels off. What do I actually want people to remember about me?
John: This question actually brings together a lot of what we’ve talked about over the past few gatherings. If “doing well” is all you want people to remember about you, that kind of recognition will never be secure enough. It will be like AI anxiety, comparing GPAs, or wanting other people to think you’re “impressive.” You’ll always need to prove yourself again. Let me turn the question around. Ten years from now, if a younger student talks about you and says, “I remember that older student. She wasn’t the most impressive or successful person, but she was genuine. She was someone I thought of when I was going through a hard time,” would you be disappointed?
Grace: (Thinking, her eyes slightly moist) …No. Honestly, that’s actually more like how I want people to remember me.
John: Then that desire is closer to what the Bible says is truly worth pursuing than simply “doing well.” That doesn’t mean you should stop trying to do things well or living a respectable life. It means that when you put “being loved and truly known” ahead of “being seen as impressive,” you may find that some of that anxiety slowly begins to loosen. This isn’t something one conversation can completely change. It’s something you have to keep choosing again and again over the years to come.
Discussion:
This conversation touched on the challenge of sustaining your faith on your own after graduation, the story of Peter’s roommate becoming lonely because he didn’t take the initiative to build new relationships, how to live in a world that feels like it is falling apart, and Grace’s reconsideration of what she wants to be remembered for. John said that Christian hope isn’t about believing the world will get better on its own. It is about believing that the Lord who created the world and personally entered into its brokenness will ultimately return and renew everything. Discuss:
1) If someone talks about you ten years from now, do you want them to remember how “well you were doing,” or something else?
2) How far is that desire from the way you are living today?
