Can’t Go Back Home Again - A Reflection



                As I proceeded with my retirement plans over the past eighteen months, I was asked on numerous occasions whether we were going to return to the West Coast (the land of fire and heat right now). That had been the plan when we moved to Michigan, but things change. I’ve changed with time. That led to the realization that I can’t go home again.  

                This realization is expressed in a recent lectionary reading from Mark 6. The chapter begins with Jesus returning home to Nazareth where he began teaching one day in the synagogue—like he did elsewhere in Galilee. Of course, Jesus was a known quantity. The people were suspicious of him because they knew him to be a simple carpenter. They knew his mother and his siblings. Interestingly his father isn’t mentioned. He’s Mary’s son not Joseph’s son. Could that have contributed to the suspicion? In any case, they were less than receptive to his message. They wondered where this wisdom and power came from. Now it could have come from God, but it could also have come from Satan. Therefore, due to their unbelief, he couldn’t do any acts of power in their presence. Capernaum, yes. Nazareth, no. The message that Jesus delivered was, according to Mark “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house” (Mark 6:1-6).

                I don’t mean to compare myself to Jesus or suggest that I am some sort of prophet (or can do works of power!). So why this reflection? Well, the passage does resonate with me because it speaks to a reality that many of us will experience over time. We may desire to return home. I know I did. I always dreamed about returning to my alma mater and teaching. I even interviewed once for a position. I didn’t get it, of course. But if I had, would it have been all that I dreamed it would be?  Perhaps, but probably not. You may have tried to return home and succeeded. Perhaps not. 

                Over the past months as I’ve watched my Facebook newsfeed I saw how different I had become. Over time I’ve taken a different path in life from many of my friends from earlier in my life. I value those friendships, but as time passed our paths took different courses. While the homeland contributed to who I am, in many ways I’ve experienced life very differently. Perhaps, like me, you’ve wondered what life would have been like if you had taken a different path in life. After college, I planned on going to a seminary in East Tennessee, but I ended up at Fuller. If I had gone that route I would never have met Cheryl and the rest is history. There have been many twists and turns in my life, many of which I’ve had no control over. Each of these twists and turns has contributed to who I am today. Do I wish I’d done some things differently? Most assuredly, but here I am. Here we are as a family.

                A few weeks back— on the first night of my official retirement—I sat out on our deck with several of my closest friends, people with whom I’ve shared life during my sojourn here in Troy. What I felt at that moment was contentment. Here is my home. Here is where I belong. Here is where the next leg of my life journey begins. I will return on occasion to the homeland. We still have family and friends out West. But it will be to visit because this is where home is. This is where my heart lies. This is where I will pursue the work that God has set before me.  

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