Scripture has many stories about people leaving home and returning later on. The patriarch Jacob flees home because he has cheated his brother Esau. Years after that, Esau welcomes Jacob back. The Israelites leave their lands to seek refuge in Egypt and return. The great hero David becomes a fugitive from King Saul’s wrath, only to come back as king himself. Long after that, the people of Judah are carried into Babylonian captivity, but return many generations later.
The New Testament also tells a few stories of leaving and coming back. Matthew tells of Joseph and Mary taking the infant Jesus to Egypt, then coming back to Israel. Jesus tells the tale of the Prodigal Son. Paul returns to his old stomping grounds in Jerusalem, then leaves again.
We rarely consider the importance of departure and return in scripture.
And we rarely consider that the gospels indicate that Jesus had a home base that he often left and returned to: the village of Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee.
In Matthew, Jesus takes up residence in Capernaum after his temptation in the wilderness and the arrest of John the Baptist. After the Sermon on the Mount Jesus “enters Capernaum,” performs some healings, then sails across the lake with some disciples. He then returns “to his own town,” Capernaum. The Gospel of Mark also indicates Jesus had a home in Capernaum. After a round of preaching in villages nearby, Jesus is “at home” when many people gather to ask for healing. So many people gather that a few guys break through the roof in order to get a friend to Jesus. A reading of the gospels also makes it clear that a few of Jesus’ disciples were from Capernaum. Some scholars speculate that they knew Jesus and hung out with him before his ministry began; that helped make them willing to follow him.
I’m not interested in scholarly debate about whether Jesus had a home or not. But the notion appeals to me. It makes him seem more human, more relatable, I guess. Like me or like you. And after he began his preaching and healing ministry home would never be the same for him or his disciples. His itinerant ministry changed his life and the lives of his disciples, even when they were at home base in Capernaum. They had less calm, less down time, less routine. More and more people would have glommed on to their little entourage. Some townsfolk might have been irritated about the disruption of village life. The disciples’ family lives would have been radically altered. The authorities the disciples had taken as a natural part of life were suddenly hostile. Imagine it—going back to Capernaum would have been different every single time.
Most of us have similar, but less dramatic, experiences. I have been in and out of Kalamazoo four or five times in my adult life. Every time it has felt mostly like home, and different than before. Perhaps some of us have left the places where we grew up, visited later, and felt like a lot had changed. Or maybe we have gone for a long time without seeing old friends or family members. Seeing them again can feel like old home week despite how much folks have changed. Or you go to a family reunion and learn that relatives’ diets have changed: there’s vegan food and gluten-free food and sugar-free food and non-alcoholic beer. Or if you went to college you might remember feeling like things had changed a lot when you went home to visit. Things are never the same. They change; that can be discomforting.
It can also be a gift. A gift of fuller life, a gift of learning and wisdom, a gift that opens our hearts and minds. If we allow it to be.
I used to think that travelling widely almost automatically created growth and breadth in peoples’ perspectives on the world. Then I met a man who had traveled all over the world: Europe, Iran, Kenya, India, China, Greece, and Egypt. I happened to have a chance to ask him once what he had learned on those trips. “That the United States is the only good place to live in the whole damn world,” he replied. I was utterly flabbergasted. But as he went on talking it became clear that all his travels had been with carefully curated, regimented, luxury tour groups. Among other things, he rarely spoke to non-Americans. You might say that he left home prepared to defend himself against being changed very much. And as nearly as I can tell, his perspective on home didn’t alter upon return.
That’s an option for each of us, I suppose. We can protect ourselves and throw up defenses and stay inside our comfort zones. We can minimize the chances of changing or having our perspectives altered much.
That’s not the choice Jesus’ disciples made, though. They chose to learn. They chose to be challenged. They chose to see the world in new ways. They chose to pay attention to the presence of the Holy among them. And things were never the same.
When we leave home, are we defensive and resistant and insistent upon sticking to what we already know? Or do we choose curiosity, attentiveness, engagement with the unfamiliar, and listening for a new word from the Divine? And are willing to look at familiar terrain with new eyes?
For both myself and the congregation, looking at familiar territory with fresh eyes was part of the point of sabbatical. Being curious, learning, and listening for the Divine are all aspects of the sabbatical experience. We need not leave home physically. Just as, as time went on, many of the first Jesus followers stuck physically close to home
Our daily lives hold numerous ways to “leave home,” to leave our comfort zones, to intentionally choose new paths in our days. Try a new method of prayer for a while—if you focus on praying for others all the time, make some space for silent contemplation. Or vice-versa. Or take a look at the baggage you carry and attempt to lighten the load. Or center yourself and initiate a conversation you’ve been avoiding because it feels risky or difficult. Or forgive yourself and accept forgiveness. Over and over. Or spend some time simply paying attention to the moment and discover what you learn, or where the sacred dwells. Or let Spirit counterbalance fear and worry.
And remember, always, that in our comings and our goings, Christ is among us as surely as he was among the first disciples wandering around Galilee, then heading home to Capernaum.
May it be so.
-Rev. Ruth Moerdyk
Scripture: Matthew 4: 12-13; 9:1 and Mark 2: 1