Back to Seminary

August 25, 2005


“Homeless…..” the strains of Ladysmith Black Mombazo are echoing in my mind as I drive over yet another dry wash with a sign that names it as a river. No, now I know what rivers really look like. They are filled to the brim with water that reflects the sky. They are crowded upon by a crush of trees, every color green imaginable. I have come to love a different landscape than my native one. Is it possible to love two, like you love your children, never one over the other, but differently, each one calling into being a part of yourself that creates the love between you.
Moving back into the dorm is not a homecoming exactly, because this was the home created when I gave up my own home. I love the simplicity of living here. All you need to bring is your personal belongings. The toilet paper, cleaning supplies, dishes and pots and pans live here already. Each person brings their use to them, and what’s here and how it is used is always changing. It is hard to believe that I’ve only been gone a year because so much is different here. So I spread my precious objects around this space, claiming it as my own, and knowing beyond a doubt that nothing in it will leave a mark when I am gone.
Home is in my call right now. As everything in the world around me moves and changes, my call to ministry is the constant. As people move into my life and out, it is my connection to them through my emerging sense of myself as pastor that defines the relationship. The very temporariness of the life I am leading serves to make me seek the deeper roots of God’s own love and care, God’s longing for peace and justice that becomes the model for life and the proclamation of it that is my vocation.
“What is your center?” my supervisor would ask. “Is there a deeper story that holds all this together?” Sometimes it’s hard to answer when you feel pulled in so many directions by conflicting loyalties and longings. But when you rest a minute, take a breath, listen for the Spirit in the deepest recesses of your heart, you know the answer is yes. I am a gift to God’s people. It is not because of anything I have done or chosen. Rather, it has chosen me. It is when I respond with all the love and openness which I have received in the choosing, that it becomes a gift to me as well. That giving and receiving is the center of my story, the place that is my true home. And….even with the sadness of always moving away in order to go forward, there is the joy of knowing that no matter what changes in life, home comes with me.