Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and
Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen
Sometimes, what you need most of all, is simply the
knowledge that you have a place to come home to, that there is someone there
who loves you, and that once there, you will find peace to sooth your weary
soul.
This is the incredible gift Jesus gave us.
“Do
not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my
Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have
told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place
for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am,
there you may be also.
A place for you.
There are times in this life when we simply don’t seem to
belong.
Later Jesus would pray on our behalf, as a people that
remains “in the world” but not of the world.
We are as sojourners in a foreign land.
There are struggles.
Times when we feel displaced.
That there simply is not a place for us.
I have experienced those feelings from time to time in my
life.
The first, I’ll share because this is Mental Health
Awareness month, something our country has observed for more than fifty years,
now.
At the core of any mental illness is an experience of just
not fitting. We just don’t fit within
the realm of normal human experience. We
don’t feel we belong.
It’s an uncomfortable feeling.
I have bipolar disorder.
Everyone experiences highs and lows in their life.
For a bipolar person these are simply more pronounced.
During the highs, the manic periods, there is a sense of
invincibility, a feeling that everything is possible, a willingness to take any
risk. It’s an emotionally exhilarating time. And yet it can be a very dangerous time.
For me, it was during these times that I was able to achieve
some of my greatest accomplishments.
Most notably, when I got on a roll in my parish in Sandpoint I decided
that senior housing was going to be the key to our congregation’s future.
Remarkably, I was successful. All the stars aligned just right, and we were
able to build an 87 unit senior housing complex.
15 million dollars later Luther Park was born.
I was so convinced about the merits of this type of ministry
that I attempted to reduplicate the effort elsewhere. About three million dollars were spent to
purchase land in Boise for another project.
However, the economy collapsed, and with it, those dreams.
And with it, my mood collapsed as well.
I went from the highest of highs, to the lowest of lows.
The dark side for a bipolar person is depression.
It comes like a thief in the night, sometimes predictably,
sometimes not.
During these periods it was difficult to even get up, make
it to the couch, and then sit there and be paralyzed, barely able to survive
amid the burdens of the world.
My own experience was that during the worst of times I was incapable
of sleep, though the early morning hours were times that brought some
relief. But then, like the San Francisco
fog that rolls in every night, a wave of darkness would overcome me around 3 in
the afternoon.
Simple things became monumental tasks.
A shower was a major accomplishment.
For quite a long time, I managed to cope with the highs and
lows of my life by turning to Scotch.
A couple of stiff drinks tended to mellow me out during the
manic times.
And though alcohol is no cure for depression, it being a depressant
itself, it did help to the extent that during the melancholy of a hard night’s
drinking, you just didn’t care anymore that you were depressed.
Of course, as you know, this resulted in my developing a
major chemical dependency problem.
As time went on, it felt more and more like I simply didn’t
fit in this world.
More than once I prayed “Into your hands I commend my spirit”
and hoped that I would simply die.
Suicide might have been an option, but I couldn’t bear the
thought of what that might have done to my wife, but especially, to my
children.
I could no longer work as a pastor, or anything else, for
that matter. There was an overwhelming
sense that there was no place for me.
And then there is the promise.
In
my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I
have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?
A place of belonging.
Sometimes, what you
need most of all, is simply the knowledge that you have a place to come home
to, that there is someone there who loves you, and that once there, you will
find peace to sooth your weary soul.
The second experience I have is
related to the political environment in which we live.
We have become so polarized as a country that depending on
who is power, those with opposing political beliefs simply feel out of place,
like sojourners in a foreign land.
I’ve had that experience quite a lot, in no small measure
because I’m a liberal democrat that has lived and served in dominantly
conservative, republican parts of the country.
I’ve even had people ask me how I could possibly be both a
Christian and a Democrat.
I didn’t feel as though I belonged here. I felt out of place. Like this wasn’t my country.
I would suppose that those on the other end of the political
spectrum experience the same feelings when the Democrats are in power and a
liberal agenda rules the day.
Sometimes, I feel out of place, not because of my political
convictions, but because of my faith convictions.
We are Christians.
Peace and reconciliation are major themes of the Gospel.
And yet we are part of a country that boasts the most
powerful and lethal military force in the history of the world.
That should make all of us feel a bit out of place.
Like this is not our home.
Jesus is not a fan of nuclear bombs.
The God who created this world is not in favor of our
destroying it.
These are statements that every Christian should fully
embrace, and yet to even speak them, seems radical.
How do we feel comfortable living in a highly militarized
society, while at the same time worshipping the Prince of Peace?
Stangers in a foreign land.
Sometimes, what you need most of all, is simply the
knowledge that you have a place to come home to, that there is someone there
who loves you, and that once there, you will find peace to sooth your weary
soul.
Sometimes what you need most of all, is a Mommy.
One of the things I regret about our theology and language
about God is that we speak of God exclusively as the Father.
Fatherhood means many things to us.
And the reason we call God our Father is that Jesus did.
Actually, the word Jesus used was Abba, which does not
translate as “Father”, but rather as “Daddy”.
But sometimes, what we need is not a Father, or even a
Daddy, but a Mommy.
Roman Catholics have responded to this need in part with
their devotion to the Virgin Mary. She
fills this need for a Mommy.
Sometimes, we have a stereotyped image of a Father as the
disciplinarian, the authority, the strong guardian and guide for our lives.
These are not bad things, but sometimes you need a Mommy.
When I think of a Mommy, what I think of most of all is a
person in whose arms we always have a place.
I think of a gentle, caring, and compassionate love.
I remember with fondness, the image of children being nursed
in their mother’s arms.
I remember the gentle lullaby.
But most of all, I remember coming home to Mama, as truly
coming home.
This is what is lost too often in our world.
We have no place to call home.
Much of our lives is spent searching for the very thing we
had from the beginning.
A place to call home.
A place where we are accepted, not because of what we’ve
done, but simply because we are loved.
A place where we belong, even if we feel we belong nowhere
at all.
Have you ever considered that this might be our most
important mission in the world?
To offer a place to call home?
One other thought about a place called home.
Robert Frost shared with us the quote:
“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they
have to take you in.”
In my Father’s house
there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I
go to prepare a place for you?
Home.
In the Father’s house.
For me and for you.
Amen
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