Going Home

Happy Thanksgiving to all the Canadians.  We Canadians like to get a jump on what is after all, the beginning of fall and begin preparations for the winter to come.

Last week we were traveling and have now settled in to our home in Parkhill closing down the (summer) home in Prince Edward Island.  Making that transition always encourages me to think about where and what home is.  I am reminded of a resident of L’Arche, Daybreak in New Market Ontario.  I visited L’Arche for a few day one reading week when I was studying theology at Huron College in London Ontario.  One of the residents always greeted people with the question, “where’s your home?”  When I was asked this, it set me back a bit because it was not the usual, “where do you live” or “where do you come from?”  It was unexpected and also, I wasn’t sure what the answer was.

Where is my home is not something that is easy to answer such as where do I live?  I live in Parkhill Ontario as well as Eglington PEI but I am not sure that either place is truly my home.  Perhaps the cottage is more of a home but I not sure about that.  If I consider what actually constitutes a home it is a place where I feel I belong and where I can be accepted for who I am.  I can fall back on the cliché, ‘home is where the heart is’.  It is a cliché but there is a kernel of truth as there is in every cliché.  What place resonates with my heart.  I felt I had found my church home when I was at my first real experience of Anglican worship many years ago after looking for a religious home.   I knew in my heart, if not in my head (at least initially) that this was where I belonged.

There is also the sense of going or returning home when I have shuffled off this mortal coil.  I was listening to a program about a resident for aging convicts who were who were on parole after being imprisoned for many years.  The founder of the facility, who gave more than might be expected of anyone to people such as these, did everything possible to make the place a home for them and was able to comfort many who were actively dying by assuring them that they were going to their eternal home.  That is the sense that is captured wonderfully in the spiritual Going Home.  It is often thought of as a traditional “negro” spiritual.  However, it is actually a relatively modern addition to the genre with a student of the famous composer, Anton Dvorak who put lyrics to the Dvorak music.  The following link is a good rendition of the haunting song, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZ_2Xbvb0rQ.

The lyrics sum up, I believe the essence of what home is:

Goin' home, goin' home, I'm a goin' home;
Quiet-like, some still day, I'm jes' goin' home.
It's not far, jes' close by,
Through an open door;
Work all done, care laid by,
Goin' to fear no more.
Mother's there 'spectin' me,
Father's waitin' too;
Lots o' folk gather'd there,
All the friends I knew,
All the friends I knew.
Home, I'm goin' home!

Nothin lost, all's gain,
No more fret nor pain,
No more stumblin' on the way,
No more longin' for the day,
Goin' to roam no more!
Mornin' star lights the way,
Res'less dream all done;
Shadows gone, break o' day,
Real life jes' begun.
There's no break, there's no end,
Jes' a livin' on;
Wide awake, with a smile
Goin' on and on.

Goin' home, goin' home, I'm jes' goin' home,
goin' home, goin' home, goin' home!

The idea of home has come up a number of times in the last few days in things that I have been reading and listening to, which is not surprizing this seems to happen quite frequently.  I will close with one quote which is from The Cry for Myth by Rollo May:

The presence of a home, a place where one is listened to, where one can feel “at home,” is essential to healthy myth.  Many of our patients in therapy find that their neurotic problems are related to their never having had a home where they were listened to.

Blessing on your journey home.