“HOME”

Kurt Hildebrand
Seattle Mennonite Church, April 24, 2005

The word “home” is a good word. It makes you feel good to say it and think about it. Advertisements use the word “home” all the time, just like “fresh” or “natural,” because it always invokes positive images and associations. Even people who don’t like their home, don’t like being home, probably do like “homestyle” chocolate chip cookies, or the “hometown” buffet. When we think home, we think safe, authentic and comfortable. You even see it with the department of home-land security. Just saying it leaves you with a warm feeling inside. And it sounds a lot nicer than, say “the department of reducing civil liberties.”

Something that’s always perplexed me about Christianity is this idea of home. What is our home? When we say that we are Christians, does that mean that our home is in Christ only? And if so, what does that mean? Is church our home? Is this world not our home? I don’t mean to stand up here and hurl these questions at you one after the other, but I could use some help.

A lot of the time, I hear Christians who make it sound like our only true home is in heaven, and that we’re only passing through this world in order to either ace or fail the great cosmic admissions test to get into the pearly gates. This kind of rubs me the wrong way, for a couple of reasons: if this whole life is just a pit stop, what does that say about all of our relationships? Are those worth anything? And why should we try and make the world a better place if it’s just doomed anyway?

I’m convinced that there is another way. I don’t know if earth is our only one true home, but our true home it must be. When the psalmist cries out to God in the scripture we just heard, he isn’t asking for deliverance and refuge FROM this world. He’s begging for deliverance and refuge IN this world.

That’s what it must mean to make our home in Christ. Obviously this world and this life are important and they matter, for Christians and non-Christians alike. But if anything, Christians ought to be talking more about just how much this life matters – it matters so much that it’s worth saving. And that’s what we believe Jesus did. He saved the world, and told us that no matter what happens and how dark things may seem, we can find our refuge and our strength in Christ.

But without some kind of refuge, this world would indeed be difficult to call home. There’s obviously a lot that is wrong with our society, with our politics, with the ways that religion is used and abused by people who seem so greedy and even bloodthirsty. If home is a place of safety and comfort, then this world is not our home, because this world is not safe, and it’s not comfortable. Frankly, I can understand why so many people, including some of the adherents of all the great religions, have thrown up their hands and declared that this world is rotten to the core. But I think Jesus had something else in mind.

Jesus teaches us that this world is our home and that corruption, pride, greed, and violent destruction can be overcome with love. Jesus gives us new eyes to see the world on his terms, to understand that all people are children of God.

This takes me back a few years to the very first time I came here to Seattle Mennonite Church – the first time I saw Weldon preach. I remember very clearly that he was talking about this very idea of coming home, but seeing the world with new eyes. He quoted the poet T.S. Eliot, who said, “We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”

Unlike many of the people here, I wasn’t raised in a Mennonite church, but my father was. The values that shaped him were always present in my home, growing up. I was taught that service is important. Family is important. Peace is important. Being frugal – or a cheapskate, depending on who you ask – is important.

When I first came here several years ago, I was struggling to hang on to a faith that was making less and less sense to me. Something struck me immediately, though. Even though it was my first time here, and I was surrounded by strangers, it felt like home. It felt right. All those core values I was raised with were clearly at work in this place. And yet, there was a newness to it that is still exciting.

I’m forever grateful that God gives us a refuge and a home in this church. And I’m grateful to God for allowing me to come back to where I started from, and know it for the first time.