“Welcome Home” for Christmas
For those of you who spend most
of your time in larger cities, it may seem trivial to you when those of us with
Clemson addresses complain about traffic.
But, sometimes, we do. “Everything
is relative,” right? And some days you
can sit forever waiting to turn left off N. Clemson Blvd and onto College
Ave. That is why I occasionally made a
cut through the neighborhood behind us. And,
that is how I ended up coming to a complete stop in the middle of Edgewood
Avenue, in front of the Parish House for St. Andrew’s Catholic Church. They have a sign in the little grassy area alongside
the street and parking lot. The sign
brought tears to my eyes; and (as you are about to discover) a whole host of
thoughts to my mind.
The sign contains a very simple
thought. It reads, “Come Home for
Christmas.”
I told myself I would pause at
this point in order to gauge whether you were similarly moved by this simple
phrase; or if you would be embarrassed for me, smile, and sympathetically nod
your head. Looks like the sympathetic
nods are winning out.
Okay. Maybe you have to be in the right mood. But think about it for a few moments, please.
“Come Home for Christmas.”
In this context, it isn’t a desperate
plea from Mom and Dad, it is an invitation from God.
“Come Home for Christmas.”
The phrase stuck with me. I thought of it as I listened to the music
being played at my “Country Christmas” Pandora station. Particularly at night, in the evenings, as we
were wrapping gifts, a huge number of the songs were about “coming home.” And many of the songs were familiar. I sometimes have difficulty remembering the
words to the second verse of “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful,” but I sang right along
without hesitation to Rascal Flatts’ rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Might the same be said for some of you?
“Home.” Being at home. Going home.
This hope, this promise, this is the desire is just below the surface of
practically every conversation had during this time of year. There are few gifts considered as precious as
the simple gift of “coming home.”
How many times have you all asked whether I
would get “home” to see my ailing sister?
I did get up to see her this weekend, but that’s why I mention it
here. Rather, it is to point out that I
have lived in Clemson longer than I ever lived in Vale. So why, when you who also live here ask me if
I will travel to North Carolina, why do you ask me if I am going to make it “home”?
Isn’t this my “home”? Isn’t this our
shared “home”?
“Come home for Christmas.”
It isn’t the “place” which beckons
us – it is something else. It is the
realization that all of us seek the opportunity to return to (or to go to) that
place where the shoes come off and the collar is loosened and the hair comes
down and we experience what it means to be loved and appreciated and accepted
and cared for and protected and ….
Am I beginning to help you
identify the emotions which overcame me, sitting at the intersection of Sloan
and Edgewood? I hope so.
And, it must be so – after all,
whether you saw the sign or not, you responded to the invitation. Here you sit, in this place, at “home” with
all the rest of us.
And I do hope you do feel at “home.” Whether you are a regular attendee at the
Sunday services offered in this place; whether you are an adult who came here
with your parents when you were a child; whether you are a traveler, holed up
in a hotel room or camper; whether you are a local who wanted to be at home
tonight even if these buildings and their occupants have failed to make you
feel at home during the previous fifty-two weeks; whatever your status before
you came through those doors – you are at home now. And the owner of this house is committed to
making your homecoming all that you desire it to be.
“Come Home for Christmas.” The sign was not posted by the Chamber of
Commerce in hopes of folks flocking this way and boosting our commercial revenue. It wasn’t strewn across the goalposts at
Death Valley asking folks to affirm that their blood does runeth orange. “Come Home for Christmas” is the invitation extended
by Christ and by His Church.
I visited this morning with Gail
Paul. As is typically my practice with
in-the-home worship services, I gave her a mini-version of what I thought I was
going to preach this evening. Then, what
she said to me changed the direction of my thoughts.
For those of you who don’t know
Gail, she has been a member of this church for decades. She was the Director of the Montessori School
for many of those years, and a respected resource to the Montessori movement
across the southeast. When Frank died
unexpectedly this past April, the advanced stage of Gail’s Alzheimer’s was a
shock to her kids and to many of us.
Gail is now in the locked down unit at Clemson Downs.
I started talking to Gail about
the sign at St. Andrews, and I talked to her about all the messages which tell
us that Christmas is a time to “Come home.”
Yet, we acknowledge, the Christmas story itself is about God’s servants
who are anywhere BUT home. The whole
story begins when Mary and Joseph leave behind the creaturely comforts of home
and head off to a strange land and an unfamiliar place. Supposedly, Joseph has family ties to the “house
and linage” of David, but none of those relatives in the City of David seem
prepared to offer them a suitable place to sleep. And no one appears to be with this young,
frightened couple as they give birth to their first-born son.
During this season of the year, we
hear all sorts of messages about going “home.” But Christmas occurs when God’s faithful ones
travel far away from that which is familiar and predictable. Christ comes – when they are far from “home.”
Gail interrupted me (along with
her memory she has lost her sense of good manners – just kidding), she interrupted
me to say that this was as it should be.
“Home” she said is not one specific location. “Home” she said, is “the place where we remember
the people who are important to us and important in our lives.” “Home,” is the place or places where significant
relationships are formed and/or celebrated.
And I realized that this is why I
was crying at the stop sign of Edgewood and Sloan Street. Some simple, cheap sign on the front lawn of
the Roman Catholic Church was reminding me that what I wanted most this
Christmas was the opportunity to continue to form deep, meaningful
relationships. What I want this holiday
season is to shake away the hindrances which stand between me and those whom
God has sent into my path. What I
desire, is the opportunity to come “home,” to the place where I can be me and
they can be them and we can all be reminded and re-assured that we are accepted
and loved and welcomed and strengthened and encouraged to live the joy filled
lives of those to whom the angels proclaim – “Peace of Earth, and goodwill
toward all.”
It may not be that the most
significant relationships in your life have been formed within this “home,” but
it is certainly the desire of the owner of this house that this be such a
place. And the invitation, offered by
this place, is to allow it to help us find the ability to be ourselves and to
experience how okay it is to be who God has made us to be.
“Welcome Home!”
Stay as long as you would like!
Enjoy!
Know that you are always
welcome!
These are the assurances which rest
in the manger in Bethlehem.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment