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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