Cherished Belonging—Book Review

When I really like a book, I fill its pages with sticky notes and my journal with quotes from it. In the case of Cherished Belonging, LOTSA stickies and quotes! Readers of this blog are probably already familiar with the work of Greg Boyle, SJ, founder of Homeboy Industries, the largest gang-intervention and rehabilitation program in the world, based in Los Angeles. His other books like Tattoos on the Heart have made him justifiably famous, and they follow a similar pattern: charming anecdotes about the “homies,” (former gang members), quotes from various saints, poets and insightful people (like Boyle’s mom), then all the sources pulled together for remarkable insights.  In each, the author seems to grow more mystical.

Boyle’s message echoes all the mystics—Julian of Norwich, Rumi, Teresa of Avila, Mechtild, Merton—on God’s abiding presence, and our constantly choosing union with the Beloved. But he gives that tradition a unique wrinkle with stories of guns, grief and gangs. No one could ever accuse Boyle of being lofty or impractical—the homies who fill his office and his days have seen the worst, in their own homes and our institutions. (Poignantly, one told of his struggle to copy the work on the blackboard in his third grade classroom, but the teacher would always erase it too soon, and he became a drop-out then.)

How, one might ask, does a person become a mystic when surrounded by people who’ve suffered crippling childhood trauma, self-medicate with an array of drugs and booze, spend considerable time in jail, and live in neighborhoods filled with violence? Maybe the point is not only that Boyle does it on the dangerous streets of L.A., but that we learn to do it in our own environments. So the equivalent of our homies might be our work colleagues, family members, students, annoying customers, friends, or random strangers. For ALL, Boyle models how to give “the tender gravity of kindness” and reverent attention to the complexity people must carry. A dose of his humor is better than caffeine if we want to live with joy and fearlessness, not God-fearing but God-seeing, choosing to brighten days.

For those who struggle with the current White House occupant (and if you don’t, stop here), Boyle gives one of the most generous descriptions I’ve seen: “No one wakes up in the morning and says to himself, ‘you know, today I think I’ll try malignant narcissist, with a side order of sociopathy.’ He didn’t choose this illness; it chose him. This illness makes him…unfit to be president but worthy of our compassion.” (p. 68) In Boyle’s world, there are no enemies, no “good guys and bad guys,” but seen through God’s eyes, only ever beloved daughters and sons. May we all try on his lens.