Monday, May 19, 2014

There's No Place Like Home

John 14: 1-14
Easter 5
May 18, 2014

The place considered my home
for most of my life is in Woodhaven, in Queens, New York.
It was a house that had been owned by my family
since the early 1900’s
It was a two family house and
and we moved there when I was three
We lived in one apartment and my grandparents lived in the other.
My home was with other parts of my family.

The house was built in the 1800’s it had skylights and dumb waiters,
and porcelain tile in the bathrooms.
88-11 87th Street, Woodhaven, NY
There was a basement filled with all sorts of
treasures and toys and games and pictures
from all generations of my family.
So old homes were home to me.

Queens was a great place to be a kid,
In the 1970’s New York could be dangerous place,
but Woodhaven where we lived was a sweet neighborhood.
milk was still delivered to people’s porches
there were parks and libraries and stores.
One of my second cousins owned the bar around the corner.
My great uncle lived a few streets over,
our church was on the corner.
Walking along the street we would always
see at least one old friend or family member.

That was home to me. Not just the house,
but the neighborhood, the other people,
the stores, the graffiti, the elevated trains.

And it was my home,
until my father was transferred to Houston, Texas
and we moved down there where we weren’t
familiar with anyone or anything.

For a long time, about 20 years,
I clung to the fact that Woodhaven was home
From the age of 8 on, I wanted to get back there.
I dreamed of getting back and living
in that house or at least that neighborhood.

And when I finally did move to New York years later
one of the first things I did was go to Woodhaven.

And when I went there, it pretty much looked the same.
There were many of the same buildings, restaurants,
my elementary school was there, the five and dime store
the house was still there.--There were some changes,
but it was mostly the same place I had grown up in.

But as I was there, eating in the same pizza place
I had eaten in 20 years ago,
I realized that Woodhaven was not my home any more.
The people I knew had moved on and
I had moved on, it just wasn’t the same.
It was not the enchanted place I remembered
The best I could do was visit and be a visitor.

It was not my home any more.
But if Woodhaven was not my home,
then where was my home?
For a while after that I was feeling quite lost.

Maybe some of you can relate to my story.
Many of us have longings to go home.
Whether it is a place, or a time, or a sensibility.
We have the need to go back to a place that we can call home.

Many people feel that longing for home
even when they’ve made a new home for themselves.
- Some people feel that even if they still live
in the very same place that they grew up in.
- Some people feel that even when they have never ever
had a place that was secure and safe.

Maybe we all have that longing to go home.
Home with a capital “H”
But at times we’re not quite sure how to find it.

I found a lot of profound quotes about home
while I was writing this,
some by Maya Angelou, William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson
but the best one I found was from one of the series of
the children’s book that came out about 10 years ago
by an author who called himself Lemony Snickett. He wrote:

“One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order
in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening –
the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life –
and you can never find again. “
You can never find it again.

Jesus disciples are scared by chapter 14 in John.
They have left their own families and followed Jesus.
They left the places that they called home
because they thought they had found that capital H Home in Jesus.
But now Jesus was talking about dying and leaving them and
going off somewhere, some place that they can’t go.
I bet the disciples were feeling that longing for Home,
they were wishing that they had that piece of pie again.

But Jesus tells them,
I may be leaving, but don’t be worried,
my Father’s Home is big enough for everyone
and I am going there to prepare a place for you in that home now.”

This gospel is read many times at funerals.
It is an assuring promise of Jesus.
We usually think about it as a promise of heaven.
Of course that’s true, and I’ve proclaimed that many times at many funerals.
But I think that it’s also a promise for us here and now.
By Jesus death and resurrection he is preparing a place for us
in the next life and in this one.

There are many rooms in my Father’s house.
I don’t know that anyone really thinks that Jesus
is talking about a house, like the one I knew in Woodhaven
with skylights and dumb waiters,
or the one that you might have grown up in.

But Jesus promises us Home.  Home with a capital “H”
The rooms are the assurance, love, and forgiveness of God.
There are many rooms in my Father’s house.
Enough rooms for everyone.

Jesus life and death has made a community on earth
that is built around God’s promises.
That community is called the church.
The church is our Home –
not just one church building, not just one group of people
but anyone and anywhere we find God’s grace and love.

Soon after I went back to New York,
I found the Lutheran church
a place where I heard for the first time out loud
about God’s unconditional love for us
and where I saw people try to live it out in their lives.
And since then, I have considered the church,
gathered around Jesus,
to be the place that I have called Home.

There is a phrase that says “you can never go Home again.”
And that may be true.

But Jesus wants us to know that no matter where we are,
When we have God’s love,
we are already Home.