Going Home

Today’s milestone on our journey to Easter is particularly radiant in a shade of rose.  It calls us to rejoice, because we have already come a long way and are not far from our destination.  By now we know where to locate our map: in the remembrance of the Word of God, received as our daily bread.

Where am I?  After a second Red Sea moment when the waters of the Jordan dry up as the Ark of the Covenant leads the people across on dry ground, the Israelites enter the Promised Land and eat of the produce of that land, exchanging the manna of the desert for unleavened cakes and parched grain.  Home at last.  It is a new home, as yet unfamiliar, but promised for generations back to the time of Abraham.  They know this is where they belong, because they remember the promises.  There are two distinct locations in today’s scripture readings – home and a foreign country, or, to put it another way, the father’s house and the pigsty.  Where do I find myself?  Where do I want to be?

What am I looking for?  The young man in the gospel chooses to leave his home and his father.  Why?  It seems as if he, like many an adolescent, is searching for a sense of identity and the freedom to experiment and express this discovery without feeling bound to where he has come from.  It may seem to be a foolish and ungrateful choice, but he does no worse than his older brother, who remains home but without a developed identity or freedom, without gratitude for being a son in his father’s house.  The young man’s quest fails.  His self-indulgent search does not give him what he is looking for and he finds himself reduced to squalor.  Did we, too drift away on the tides of life, thinking we were finding ourselves, only to realize that we were lost?  Few experiences in life are as frightening as the feeling of being lost.  Did we come to ourselves at last in a pigsty, blessed by the recognition that we do not belong there, our hearts reminding us that we do indeed have a home to go to?

Will I get up and go?  Will I set foot on the path toward home?  The sense of home and belonging is of central importance to all of us.  We remember an experience of home in the past – this was the sacred mission of our family, to provide home and belonging so that we could experience our identity as children in the Father’s house.  Whether our family of origin fulfilled this sacred mission fully, partially or barely at all, we go forth from that home into the world, looking to establish our own home in the present.  We all know people who have the ability to be content with who they are, who others are, and what life is.  They are easy to be with.  They help us feel at home.  And yet, there is a longing that cannot be quenched for a home and a belonging that goes beyond all that is to be found in this world.  For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the one that is to come: our heavenly homeland, as St Benedict says.  Are we hastening there?

Do I entrust myself to him who beckons me?  Do I believe in his love?  From the first words of his Rule, Benedict reminds us that we are children of the Father who have drifted away from home, but who are called to return, to come back to him who longs for us, and who calls out loud: Is there anyone here who longs for life?  In the parable, the father’s heart is broken for both his sons – the one who left and the one who stayed.  Both are lost; neither is fully alive.  His longing is to welcome both into his embrace.  Our whole life – our Christian and monastic life – is meant to be a roadmap to our home in God.  To consult that map, we remember the past – the promises of God; we remember the present – the desire of our hearts for true life; we remember the future – the place we belong, our true home.  This is the source of our joy.


Image: Prodigal Son, by Oleg Korolev