"Casa"

"You can't go home again."
--Thomas Wolfe

"I'm going home, to the place where I belong."
--Chris Daughtry

The search for a residence consumed me in 2007. I looked over two-stories, ranches, apartments and townhomes, carefully weighing the pros and cons of each possibility, rechecking my budget. I downplayed my disappointments from time to time, but continued my quest, knowing I would succeed in good time. I did locate a home and truly look forward to the relaxation it induces each day when I return from work, take my shoes off and run my toes across the carpet. I'm not sure why, but this practice is oddly refreshing. In fact, I take this cue from a film. Look through your DVD collection and dig out "Die Hard" (1988), directed by John McTiernan. Notice John McClane decides to take part in this practice, wisdom from a plane companion. I'm also discovering homes require continual upkeep, and prioritizing projects will always be necessary for the preservation of mental sanity. Living with my family numerous years creates a psychological hurdle, but I'm continually recognizing the necessity for moving forward. Independence breeds growth quickly.

It is with a heavy heart I continue to watch the housing market melt down. Credit continues to tighten and loan standards continue to sharpen. Just recently, the government introduced measures to help homeowners work out payments while retaining ownership. While these measures are important, millions are slowly moving into foreclosure. Others dwell in it fully. It is always simple to point the finger and assign blame, but when I ponder the intensity and emotion of this moment, sadness trumps judgment. A deep bond exists between homeowners and the structure which keeps the body warm and cool with the shifting seasons. Children are created and reared, tears are shed, laughter rolls through the air and memories are forged forever. And although the foundation is comprised of cement, wood, nails, drywall, insulation and shingles, a quiet presence, an "aroma", moves through the home: the lingering smell of cooked meals, ironed sheets, a vacuumed floor, the comfort in resting on a leather couch. Joyce Maynard puts it best: "A good home must be made, not bought." Homes are never identified by the materials used in the construction; it is truly the love or lack thereof that lives and moves within the walls and marks the people who step outside its doors.

In the Scriptures, the home is significant in numerous ways. The Hebrew word for "home" is bayith and carries a meaning very similar to the English translation (in a structural sense): "house", "abode" or "dwelling". Bayith also means "household" and "family". Understood this way, it is framed in terms of lineage, the family name and the respect it carries in the village or community. For instance, looking back into the 20th century, Rockefeller, Carnegie and Vanderbilt come to mind, men who defined society through the production and distribution of oil, steel and railroads, respectively. But with numerous names in circulation now, the luster is fading for legacy in the West. Life is framed in terms of the single person in the West, but the Scriptures read otherwise. Leadership by the mother and the father is followed. In other words, the statement "you and your household" denotes the unity of decision. St. Paul writes about his stay in prison. Chained to the wall, he begins to sing with his fellow brothers. The melody is followed by an earthquake and the structure collapses. The chains fall and the jailer thinks the men are gone. Preparing to take his life, Paul tells him to halt and see everyone remains. The jailer comes to Paul and wonders how he might be reconciled to God. Paul tells him to believe in Jesus and restoration follows. Incidentally, his household (family) follows his decision, taking the words of Paul to heart. He and his household stand together.

The word "home" evolves once more in the Greek translation: oikos meaning "of the human body". St. Paul writes about this in his letter to Corinth. Prostitution continues to play a prominent role in this society, but numerous men and women step away from the practice. Paul reminds readers the body is a temple, a "home" in which spiritual formation takes root. Jesus also validates this reference when he stands trial for his alleged transgressions against others. He tells his accusers, "Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days." But they are thinking in terms of buildings, the actual temple located in the center of Jerusalem. He is referring to himself and the rise from death in the coming days. I don't tend to think of my body in terms of a home, but I do hold complete ownership over it in every way: diet, exercise, sleep, thoughts, words. Surprisingly, this recognition takes me back to the household reference. And to books by Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins.

Hitchens (God is not Great) and Dawkins (The God Delusion) liken child rearing with religion to child abuse. In short, they believe this approach robs young minds the opportunity to think critically and decide whether they wish to take hold of the parent's beliefs too. What strikes me is the crossroads youth face as they mature into adolescence. Usually with the completion of high school, quick independence takes over, the freedom to abide by one's own sense of time and focused decision making, absolved from parental influence. In short, this frame of mind is coupled with moving out. But in this moment in time, I am discovering every person makes a decision regarding the spiritual upbringing: making it his or her own, or choosing to venture into a new path. Raised in a spiritual home, I decided to make the teachings I received my own. In retrospect, I do wish I was challenged more; it is only until recently I have decided to take the challenge upon myself, reading up on the worldviews, philosophies and beliefs others share who are distinct from my own. Some think this state of mind is risky and my spiritual foundation will become muddled. I strongly disagree. In fact, I think this exercise helps me to understand others better (because my core understanding of spiritual reality is grounded) and why they understand the world this way.

Surprisingly, this creates a question. Both Jesus and St. Paul talk about redemption in the entire household. Why does everyone believe though? Is it simply out of example by the parents? Or do the children reflect on the invitation, wrestle with it, meditate on it? Studying the teachings of Jesus, the response follows the miracles: people see life change with the eyes and respond with the heart, the spirit, the will to follow his leadership example. Unlike today, however, respondents didn't gather in the church to study the words of Jesus. The words he speaks are written after his death. But intrigue is truly evident, as Jewish people compare the messages of Jesus with the Torah and the Psalms, the Proverbs and the prophets, puzzled with the newness, even offended with intensity behind the unorthodox stories. People convene in the home to discuss his message, "breaking bread" in the process. It is joyous to see this practice continue today, good conversation alongside good food. I find lifetime memories are created in these settings. But the home is not the church. And while churches are continuing to drift into home settings, buildings are never the church. They are simply a place for the "church" to gather in common unity, people united with similar outlooks (beliefs) on spiritual formation. The "church" is my home away from home. Dorothy puts it best though: "There's no place like home." Indeed.