fpc missoula

‘home sick’…

15 june 09 – sephorris and nazareth (basilica of the annunciation and church of st. joseph – mark 6.1-6)

i’m 44 years old. i’ve been on more group trips (both leading and following) than an average police officer makes stops at the local donut shop in the course of a year on the job (not that there’s anything wrong with that…:). i know and certainly appreciate the time and effort and concentration it takes to lead a group of strangers through a foreign landscape in a way that is enjoyable and doesn’t lead to armed combat amongst members of the group by the end (and kudos to our leaders, shane and matt, for doing an excellent job here). i’ve sat up with middle schoolers barfing their way through the night, and adults in the emergency room with broken limbs. i’ve laughed heartily at jokes by a campfire or on a bus that still make me laugh years later. i’ve shed tears of sadness and joy with strangers who have become fast and eventually life-long friends.

and yet, no matter how many times i travel with a group, it is a fresh and new experience each time.  this trip has certainly been AMAZING on so many levels, and i’m really having the time of my life. between lost swim trunks in the sea of galilee (not mine – my roommate, dave), faux ‘baptisms’ in the river jordan (not me, but dave), and joy-filled, meaningful times of conversation over beers and bugs on the balmy evenings here, it’s been an absolute blast thus far.

and yet…

as i sit out on this patio overlooking the beautiful sea of galilee and see the lights of the distant cities and the stars in the sky glistening with life, something unexpected fills my heart and pours out into my fingers as i type these words onto the screen of my little iBook…

i feel homesick.

i miss my family, and wish they could be sharing this experience with me.

i miss my friends…from missoula, from california, from all over the country and the globe, who in many ways are my ‘extended family’.

i miss the familiar people and events and things that are the heartbeat, the rhythm of my daily existence, the groove of my life.

don’t get me wrong. being in galilee (and soon in jerusalem) is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and i feel myself being refreshed, renewed, re-created by it all.  on many levels, i’m rediscovering my truest and deepest self here.

but like a 6th grader setting up his sleeping bag on a bunk in a cabin he’ll share with a bunch of other smelly 6th graders for his first full week away from home…

i feel homesick.

after Jesus set up his new ‘home base’ in capernaum, he set out on a series of trips to nearby villages and towns, meeting new people and sharing his life and message with them, bringing healing and new hope and new life.  and place by place, person by person, he found that his life and message was attracting more and more interest from more and more people.

and then he went to nazareth.

back HOME to nazareth.

we don’t exactly know why.  having been gone for a while, and in the midst of experiencing all kinds of exciting new things, i wonder…

was Jesus feeling homesick?

was he longing for the comfort of a familiar smile, a warm, knowing embrace, a homecooked meal? who knows?

what we do know is that he went back home.

but if he was feeling homesick, he certainly didn’t experience the kind of homecoming he would have been longing for.

‘what is coming out of his mouth and from his hands? where did he get all this wisdom and supernatural power? isn’t this mary’s little boy, the local carpenter’s kid? shouldn’t he be building tables and chairs instead of healing limbs and lives? who does he think he is?’

no handshakes or hugs…no cool drinks or warm cookies…no smiles or laughs or knowing glances. he wasn’t the same old Jesus they knew as a child, and they were offended.

they rejected him.

in his hometown.

nazareth.

he lamented that ‘no prophet is truly welcome in their hometown’…the ancient source of the more modern phrase ‘you can never truly go home again.’

he wasn’t able to display any of the miraculous powers he did in other towns, except for curing a few people of ailments that are as life-threatening as the common cold. and as shane pointed out to us, this was not some sign that Jesus had temporarily become merely human and not divine. he couldn’t display the powers because there were no crowds to witness, no interest from the locals, no people to touch…except for the few.

the few who were home…sick.

and then i realize that perhaps my longing for my family and friends, my desire to be close once again to all that is familiar, is merely a dim reflection of a much deeper longing…

a longing to be fully accepted, fully known, fully loved…

a longing for others to experience this acceptance and love…

a longing for a home that is more familiar than family and friends, more true than any map or geography, more real than any memory of any person, place or thing…

a Home that heals us and makes us whole.

a Home that we find by being found.

a Home discovered not by stepping back to what’s familiar and safe, but by stepping forward into what is not necessarily ’safe’…but IS good.

a Home that i am truly sick for…still.

the shalom of Christ to you all,

brian

*currently listening to ‘athos: a journey to the holy mountain’ by stephen micus