Homeward Bound, and homeless

Driving past the houses in a wealthy suburb of Chicago, on our way to visit a church there, we saw mansion after mansion and thought to ourselves, what are we doing here? The folks who live here are not in our league, that is, we are not in their league. I’m sure they are nice people, but my wife said it best, “We can visit today, but we don’t want to represent another socio-economic class at this church.”  Surprises abounded however, as this became our home church for the next two years while we lived in town. Castes might matter to nouveau riche, but not to these people. They welcomed us and made us feel right at home. We never left. 

I thought of that memory in the air while returning to Sydney after a very useful quick trip to the USA recently. We have been renting since we moved to Sydney many years ago, and our landlord decided to sell our residence, so we had to move out. Since I’ve now been splitting time between the US (Nashville, Tennessee) and Sydney with a half year commitment in each, we elected to put all our household goods into storage at the end of our rental period. As a result, when I returned to Sydney, I was homeless, and thus, I had mixed feelings; homeward bound, but homeless. 

 

“A house is not a home, if there’s no one there,” says the old song. And making this short stopover into Sydney that much more difficult was that my wife had already gone to Nashville the week before to help with our children and grandchildren there. That meant I was homeward bound, homeless, and alone. And a double feeling of sadness swept over me and stayed washing over me for a tangible length of time. 

 

A home is a goal, the historic Aussie dream, to own a house, safe as houses, they used to say. And with property values skyrocketing in most capital cities, the safety does not appear as sure as it was in times past. And yet, there is a safe haven, and while pondering this season of our lives, I gave my mind over to the phrase, “House of the Lord.” 

 

You might remember Psalm 23, the shepherd’s song of King David, who ended that prayer with “I shall dwell in the House of the Lord forever.” I suppose if there is any safe place in the universe, it’s where God is, and where he dwells, that is, in his house. The sons of Korah wrote this as a prayer, “For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand outside. I would rather stand at the threshold of the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.” (Psalm 84.10)

 

Last year, I was visiting Queensland and participated in a synagogue service held on the Gold Coast. The rabbi had a small gathering that evening and set the session in motion with a question. “What is the one thing you would ask of God if he were listening to you just now?” Each person in turn answered mostly hoping that circumstances would tilt in their favour, whether health or finances or such.

 

I was visiting, so I hoped to remain quiet and observe, but an urgency came over me, and I found myself saying the ancient prayer of King David 

 

אַחַ֤ת ׀ שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮ אוֹתָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י לַחֲז֥וֹת בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֽוֹ׃

 

“One thing I have asked from the LORD, that I shall seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, 

to behold the beauty of the LORD and to meditate in His temple.” (Psalm 27.4)

 

What is the one thing I’ve asked? The rabbi smiled and agreed with me; that itself made me smile as well. 

 

Today the question remains as I return to my homelessness and my aloneness. Do I still want to be in God’s house today? Is he my chief joy? Are other things crimping my relationship with him or threatening my connection to him? 

 

One thing I have asked… today I’m asking again. To dwell in the house of the Lord today. For my wife to dwell in the house of the Lord. For my children and grandchildren and for all my extended family and for all my friends and contacts. May you who are reading this find the house of the Lord, living in his kingdom, in his presence, to be the most satisfying and most rewarding place to be. Home is where the heart is. Where your heart is, there will your treasure be. Our soul knows no rest until we find our rest in him.