Coming Home, Leaving Home

Do you remember the first time you left home for an extended period? Can you remember how it felt to be going away from family, friends, and the places you knew so well? Was it scary? Was it thrilling? It was probably both.

The first time I really left home was when I went away to college. I am sure many of you share that experience. I remember my parents taking me downtown to the Greyhound bus station on a hot August day in San Antonio. I had a suitcase and a blue metal foot locker I had bought at the army surplus store. It must have weighed 60 pounds. It was crammed full of stuff: a dozen or so books, a few records, and everything else that wasn’t clothes.

I got on that bus for a two day ride to northern California. I had never been further west than Uvalde, a town about 80 miles from San Antonio. I had never seen the college I was going to attend. I was leaving home on a great adventure. Ahead of me was a fresh start, a place where no one knew me. It would be a new life. I was leaving behind everything that had made me who I was: my parents, my church, my relatives, the comfortable crazy south Texas mix of Anglo and Mexican cultures. Or so I thought. Now, 40 years later, I realize how much of my family and culture got on that Greyhound bus with me.

And do you remember how it felt to return home after a long absence? Home wasn’t quite the same, was it? They say you can’t really come home again. There is a lot of truth to that. It sounds crazy, but we all know that two apparently contradictory things are true. We can never truly come home again, yet we can never truly leave home.

I returned four months later for our Christmas break. After two more days of interminable sitting, I was back home. It was, of course, good to be home for Christmas. I felt like I had been gone for years. My head was filled with all kind of radical and heretical ideas. I was growing a scraggly beard in order to look older and more radical. It was wonderful to see my aunts, uncles, cousins and high school friends. And yet, I now saw my home with new eyes. Home wasn’t quite the same because I wasn’t quite the same. Of course, I had the typical college freshman’s critical perspective. I saw how provincial, how limited, my home was. And I also began to truly appreciate it for the first time.

Home. Few words evoke such powerful feelings. Feel, for a moment, the emotions, the images, even the sounds and the smells that “home” summons up for you.

I love the motto on our church sign: “A religious home for the liberal spirit.” Today, the first Sunday after Labor Day, is always a homecoming of sorts. Our programming is in full swing again: the choir is back in the choir loft, the children are back in their religious education classes. All kinds of classes and activities are gearing up. We are having a picnic at the park after church.

A religious home. Our religious home. I find it fascinating that we call our congregation a home. I think it is important that we call our church a religious home. It says something about what we are seeking and what we seek to create. What does it truly mean to be a religious home? What ought it to mean?

There are many parallels between a good family home and a good church home.

The first thing a good family home does is to welcome us. For most of us that begins as infants. We are accepted with joy and celebration. We are surrounded by love and attention. Early on we learn that home is where we belong. We belong even when we mess up. We belong even when we don’t agree with our parents or siblings. We belong we win first place or finish last. In a real home, it doesn’t matter.

I want our church home to be like that. I hope that we strive to welcome every new person the way a family welcomes a new child. In a healthy, loving home, it doesn’t matter if the new addition is a boy or a girl. It doesn’t matter if that new child is going to get a Ph. D. or struggle to learn to read. That child is a gift of new life. I dream of a church home that sees every new member of our community as the gift he or she is. It should not matter here if you are rich or poor, if you are smart or simple, if you are young or old, straight or gay. In a church home, of course, we choose to join our religious family. But that is all the more reason to rejoice.

A caring home is there when we need help. I know in my own life my family was there for me in tough times, supporting me emotionally and physically. A strong family is one where we know, without hesitation, that help is there when we need it.

And so it is here. At church we call this pastoral care—literally caring for the flock. At our religious home we need to be there for each other. This has been a challenge in our growing religious family. We are making great strides in this ara. Pastoral care must always be a high priority. When life hits us with illness, loss, trauma, or life is simply too much to handle alone, we must be a family to whom we can turn.

A good family home nurtures us and teaches us. A family oversees the development of its children. It takes care of each child’s needs. Just as important, a family teaches important values and skills. Yesterday we held a memorial service here for Frank Abbott, husband of Lois Abbott. As I met with the five grown Abbott children on Thursday, they recounted how much they had learned from their father by his example. We teach and learn by example.

A good religious home needs to nurture our souls, the very core of our being. We do this in so many ways. We do this in worship. In our youth religion education classes we pass along our core values of compassion, acceptance, kindness, and openness. Our music program helps us express what rational thought alone cannot. Our adult classes, our chalice circles, our meditation groups, all help us to grow. At our best, we teach by example: we model compassion, we model idealism, we model kindness.

A good family celebrates special times. How many of us, when we think back on our favorite times with our families of origin, think of a special Christmas, a Thanksgiving, a graduation, a birthday, a wedding, a reunion. There is wonderful value is simply coming together.

A church home needs to do the same thing. We need to dedicate children, remember our dead, welcome new members, have silly shows, share meals together. Today’s picnic is a chance to create a special time together. Let us never underestimate the value of simply having some fun together.

A good family shares the chores, too. These, too, are important times in a family. I remember how proud I felt when I was old enough to actually be a help to my father when he painted the exterior of our house. Years later I could point with pride to the parts that I did. I remember joining with my sister and cousin to help my aunt Amelia in the kitchen. Of course, some of the chores I helped with weren’t glamorous at all: taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, helping with the laundry. Yet even taking out the trash is important. Not only does it need to be done, buy helping makes us part of something larger than ourselves.

Our religious home has chores, too. Think of all the unglamorous chores getting done this morning: making coffee, ushering, helping in the nursery. Dozens are helping in our youth religious education program. Think of all the tasks needed to make today’s picnic happen. This home is possible only if we pitch in. When we pitch in we become part of the larger family in a new way.

When we think of home we naturally think domestic thoughts. We think of loving and nurturing children. We think of family members who are there for each other in life’s hard times. We think of family celebrations. We think of passing on traditions and teaching life’s important lessons. And, yes, we even think of the chores that sustain a home.

The parallels between these aspects of a family home and our religious home are clear. Thinking of this congregation as a religious home helps to remind us of these essential parts of our life together.

Yet there is another comparison between a family home and a religious home that we are likely to overlook. A healthy home sends its children out into the world. When I got on that Greyhound bus and literally headed off into the sunset, I was doing exactly what my home had prepared me to do. Had I stayed at home for the next twenty years, everyone would have thought that there was something very wrong with me and with my family. And they would have been right. Something is wrong with a home where the children never leave, where they never develop independence, where they never take their gifts out into the wider world.

It’s odd. We automatically think of home as a safe, nurturing place. And yet a good home is a part of a wider world. A good home prepares us to leave home.

So it is with a religious home. Yes, our religious home must nurture and protect us. Our religious home helps us to grow and learn. And our religious home has failed if it does not send us out into the world. If all we do here is worship, pastoral care, youth religious education, music, adult religious education, chalice circles, meditation groups and fellowship activities, we create the religious equivalent of a dysfunctional home.
Our religious home, to be worthy of the name, must send us into the world.

What is true of our religious home is also true for each one of us. Yes, each one of us needs loving acceptance. Yes, each one of needs a place where we can heal, learn, and grow spiritually. Yes, each of us needs support in life’s difficult times.

Yet, if all we do is take care of our own needs, we become like the forty year old who is still afraid to leave home. We have to know when it’s time to hop on the bus. A natural part of the religious development of each one of us is to take our religion beyond our religious home.

As we begin a new church year together, each one of us needs to take stock of where we are on our religious journey. Some of us are brand new. We need time to get our bearings. We need time to learn, grow, and reflect. That’s fine.

Some of us come looking for shelter. We are going through a difficult time and need support. If this is you, may you find shelter here. Others of us are eager to roll up our sleeves and pitch in around the house. Great!

Some of us, grounded in our sense of compassion and commitment and anxious to make a difference, are ready to take on the world. Super! And, of course, this is bit too simple. Most of us are in several places at once and all of us have times when we are full of energy and eager to give, and other times when we need consolation.

Where are you? Where are you today? What do you need to move on to the next stage in your religious life?
If you are weak and hurting and need help, help is here. Reach out. Take the love and care that is all around you. If you need time to reflect explore different paths and gain strength, take that time. Attend a class. Develop a spiritual practice. Join a chalice circle. Sing in the choir.

Do you want to help others that are part of our family? Wonderful. Are you ready to help run this religious household? Opportunities are everywhere.
Does the world’s suffering touch your heart? Do you yearn to help change things for the better? Then it is time to leave home. There is a small fleet of buses here ready to take you out into the world. Here you can join with others to work on everything from homelessness to sustainable living to human rights. Find your bus. Climb aboard. Leave home for a while. Take what you have learned and what you believe out into the world. You will be a blessing to the world. And when you return to your religious home you will appreciate it more and you will strengthen us all.

Let ours be a true religious home. Let ours be a home filled with love and celebration. Let ours be a home where each of us truly belongs. May ours be a religious home that offers help and understanding when we need them.

And may this always be a home that sends us out into the world. May this be a home where each of us finds our passion and where we join hands to bless the world.

We are beginning a new year together.

Welcome home; welcome home. It is good to see you again.

And I see some of you are getting set to leave again. Wonderful. Get on your bus. Be a blessing to the world. Make us all proud.
Amen.