There is something very wonderful about traveling HOME. I remember the first Christmas after I was married. My husband was in the military. We had gotten married in early November and moved to Norfolk, Virginia. I had lived my entire life within a few miles of where I was born. It was wonderful to be married, but it was hard to be away from all the places and people I had always known. Finally it was time to come back to Kentucky for Christmas! In those days before the US’s interstate highway system was fully built, we had to go north from Virginia to the Pennsylvania Turnpike in order to safely cross the mountains in winter. Would we be able to make it back to Kentucky for the brief time Alan had permission to leave the base?
Every mile of that trip seemed beautiful, in spite of traffic and cold rain that sometimes turned to snow! There was such a joy in me to return to where I had always been, to eat the foods I had always eaten, to be with the people I had always loved. Yet there was stress, too, because our time was short and we feared the weather would stop us.
Today’s first reading from Isaiah describes the Jewish people’s joy as they journeyed home to their native land. Scholars tell us it was written as they made their return. Interestingly, the distance between Babylon and Jerusalem, had God’s people gone straight across the arid regions, was about 520 miles—almost the same distance “as the crow flies” [in a straight line] as Alan’s and my trip from Virginia back to Kentucky in 1971.
Like us, they couldn’t go straight across. They needed to follow roads along rivers, so they would have water and safety. Their journey was actually over 900 miles. It took them about 4 months to return.
And, of course, they were on foot. They walked home to Jerusalem.
It had to be a hard trip. Isaiah’s words give them courage. He tells the people to “Raise a glad cry..”, “Break forth in jubilant song…” “Fear not, you shall not be put to shame,” “The Lord calls you back…” “My love shall never leave you, nor my covenant of peace be shaken, says the Lord, who has mercy on you.”
When I returned to the active practice of my Catholic faith, my pastor, more than once, gave me this passage from Isaiah to pray as a penance. As I read it now, the joy of coming home to God still fills me. To me, this is the story of the Prodigal Son in feminine language, equally filled with the image of God with open arms coming on the road to meet me.
It was humbling to come back. I was not returning home to Rome with honor. So it was reassuring to hear, “Fear not, you shall not be put to shame; you need not blush, for you shall not be disgraced. The shame of your youth [or middle age!] you shall forget, the reproach of your widowhood no longer remember. For he who has become your husband is your Maker; his name is the LORD of hosts.”
I especially hung on to those words, “For he who has become your husband is your Maker.”
In these six years since I have come home to God, I have come to see them as true. No, I am not a religious who has made a religious vow to take God as my spouse. I am a widow with reasonably good health, old enough I have some time to give to God and time to pray. Now God is the center of my life–as my husband once was. There is a joy in serving him, in anticipating what he might like, in sharing both my day and my deepest hopes with God–as I once served and shared with my husband.
Somehow, over these past six years, I have “spread out my tent cloths unsparingly.” More and more the people in my parish, the projects of my parish, and my prayer have taken over my “To Do List” of each day and my heart. They are my family as well as God’s family.
I have come home to God. Like that journey back from Virginia 45 years ago, like the journey of the Jews back from Babylon, this journey has had its rough places and anxious moments. I was greatly helped by people who served as Isaiah along the way. They encouraged me to keep traveling, stay hopeful, trust that God meant it when he said to me, “For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with great tenderness I will take you back. In an outburst of wrath, for a moment I hid my face from you; but with enduring love I take pity on you, says the LORD, your redeemer.”
Now, God has taken me back. My tents are spread. I am at home with “my husband who is my Maker.”
Probably some of you who read this today are on your journey home to God in his Church.
Perhaps some of you are just thinking about beginning that journey.
Perhaps some of you are almost home—or re-establishing your tent in the Jerusalem of parish and faith. For you, let me tell you that when you finally settle in again, it is all the wonderfulness of being home. Keep traveling.
But whether you are journeying home or safely within God’s household, there are MANY who once were at home in the Church who are not there just now.
Be an Isaiah for them.
- Talk about the joy of your faith to someone today–of the goodness you find in relationship with the God of mercy and love.
- Invite someone to come stand in confession line with you this weekend.
- Invite someone to come with you to Midnight Mass on Christmas.
- Suggest you might meet for coffee—after you attend a daily or Sunday mass together.
- Encourage your children to come thank God with you for the goodness you have received in 2016—or to pray with you for family needs you expect in 2017.
- Plan now to spend New Year’s Eve in prayer, praying that many will find their way back to God in 2017.
- For those who are not ready for these steps, spend time having conversation about needs and yearnings, hopes and fears. Pray to the Holy Spirit to guide you, and you will be surprised how a conversation can turn to matters of Spirit, of faith, of longing to come home to God.
Prayer:
Lord, we are 10 days from Christmas! Today, help my heart and mind to turn to someone to whom I can be Isaiah—someone I can encourage on their journey home to You. As someone comes to mind, help me to say a prayer for them—then LISTEN carefully to You as thoughts come into my mind of how I might reach out to them to encourage them along the way of their journey. And let me look at my journey. How close am I to You today, Lord? How are You pulling me closer?
