Home-Going Season - Jeremiah 31:7-14

It’s been over a month since I returned from England so I figured it was high time I gave you a report about my adventures. England was lovely. The whole country was decorated and lit up for Christmas and we took full advantage of the seasonal celebrations. We had high tea at a fancy hotel. We shopped at Christmas markets in Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly Circus. We saw Big Ben and Westminster Abbey and even attended a Champions League football match at Elton John’s home stadium.

But equally lovely were the days we spent at home. My siblings and I stayed at big house in Buckinghamshire, and on the days we didn’t take the train into London, we slept in, walked up to the village for a cup of tea and a few provisions, came home, cooked a big meal, lit a fire in the fireplace, and watched Christmas movies. I was living my best English country cottage life.

And I had a similar experience on the Yorkshire leg of my trip. I attended the Advent Procession at York Minster Cathedral and ate Sunday roast at a pub. But each night, my friend and host would make us a pot of tea and we’d settle under blankets next to her Christmas tree and watch holiday baking specials. Even when I was 4,000 miles from my actual home, the experience of coming home at the end of each day was one of the highlights of my trip. And of course, as wonderful as my trip was, nothing could compare to finally sleeping in my own bed again when I returned.

During our Christmas Eve services here at Christ Church, Kate took a moment in her greetings to welcome our many visitors and also the many familiar faces who had returned home for the holidays. She remarked that it is always joyful to celebrate such a homecoming spirit this time of year. I couldn’t agree more. There’s something in air around Christmastime that taps into our home-going instincts - something deep and spiritual and worthy of our attention, and a great place to start is the book of Jeremiah.

Jeremiah offers his fellow Israelites one heck of a proclamation about their impending return to their homeland. And there is both joyful anticipation and some underlying tension in his words. “With weeping they shall come, and with consolations I will lead them back,” says the Lord. Jeremiah also reminds us that not everyone who left Israel and Judah and went into exile in Babylon will be returning. “Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel.” It has been so long since they’ve been home that many of their number have died, and many new members have been born who are not technically returning because they’re going to a place they’ve never been.

This is a complicated home-going for a people who have been away for generations and who have a fraught relationship with the God who both exiled them and is now overseeing their return. “He who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd a flock.” There’s something familiar in these sentiments and I suspect it’s because most of us have also experienced complicated relationships with home.

I think the whole concept of “home” in Jeremiah’s proclamation is elaborate and contradictory and opens up new possibilities for us. We’re not talking about people sleeping in their own beds again after a journey. We’re talking about a nation that has spent years as strangers in a strange land finally regaining their sense of belonging in a place they’ve longed for but likely isn’t the same as they left it. It’s mystical and wonderful and also confusing. So God must surely be involved.

But Jeremiah isn’t the only place God teaches us about the importance of home and belonging in our life of faith. Today is the 11th day of Christmas, so we are still celebrating the Nativity, the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. Like Jeremiah’s proclamation to the Israelites, the birth of Christ introduces us to a new way of thinking about home.

Jesus entering the world in relative poverty in first century Palestine is the beginning of the redemption of humanity and of the world. It means that this earth, even its seemingly desolate places, can be a home. It means that our bodies can be homes. It means that no matter where we find ourselves, we can find belonging, because Christ came among us and is now with us, and we always belong with him.

This can be a tricky time of year for many of us. It’s so easy to feel doomed if we don’t start off a new calendar year exactly the way we planned to. Some of us ate too much over the last two weeks. Some of us are cold. Some of us are not cold enough. The geopolitical landscape is bleak and the internet isn’t any better.

So there is temptation to take action and do something about all of this. Join a gym. Join a protest. Develop new habits. Start over in a new place. But maybe, just maybe the Good News of the Incarnation during the Christmas season is that this is not a starting over time, but a home-going time. A time to pitch our tents in the familiar places where we feel our greatest sense of belonging.

The possibilities are endless. Maybe this means spending time in the place we came from with the family that brings us joy and makes us feel safe. But maybe it means leaving that house and those relatives behind for the home and family we created for ourselves. Maybe it means reimagining our relationship with Christ and nurturing that spiritual space that feels like home, where whatever remnant of ourselves we have to offer is accepted and redeemed by a God who loves us and to whom we will always belong.

I think about home as a place where I fit. Where I’m not “too much” and never “not enough.” It’s a place where I feel comfort and contentment and can experience Sabbath rest. It’s a place where I can be seen and known deeply. It’s circumstances that feel familiar and holy. It’s people whose love reminds me of God’s love.

As this new calendar year gets going and as we in the Church world move into the Epiphany and the season that follows, I’m going to remember the joy and anticipation I felt on the train ride back to that English country cottage. I’m going to try and hold on, at least for a little while longer, to that instinct to pitch my tent in places that feel like home. I know that seasons of branching out and exploring new places will come in their right time. But today, on this 11th day of Christmas, I’m celebrating the sense of belonging that only the birth of Christ into the world can bring. Amen.