O Lord, You have searched me and You know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue You know it completely, O Lord. ... Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You. (Psalm 139:1-4,7-12)

     On Thursday evening, I had one of those "There's no place like home" moments! moments. We’ve probably all had them at one time or another. It was Thursday night at around 8:00. I landed at the Buffalo Airport, waited to get my luggage, waited for the Shuttle Bus to Long-Term Parking Lot "B", got to Area B-17, got in my car, drove through the city and got on the Peace Bridge. Now – I was away for almost 3 weeks! I had never been away from my family for that long before – so when I mention "Long-Term Parking" at the Airport, that’s definitely how it felt. (I admit - I fondled the steering wheel for a few seconds before I could dare interrupt the moment of reunion with the car to actually get moving!) And now I’m on the Peace Bridge. Almost all of you here have crossed the Peace Bridge – so you’ll know what I’m describing. As you approach the highest part of the bridge coming from the Buffalo side suddenly into clear focus come 3 flags ahead of you. In quick succession there’s the American flag, then the United Nations flag, and then the Canadian flag. And we who cross the border on a regular basis know what the flags mean. Regardless of the fact that the border crossings are at the foot of the Bridge on either side – those flags represent the move from one country to another. As you pass the American flag, you’re in the United States, as you pass the United Nations flag you’ve made it to the actual boundary, and as you pass the Canadian flag you’re in Canada. It’s all so simple and easy. It happened in a second or even less, and all of a sudden I was home. Yes, there was still the little inconveniences ahead which we all loving know as Canada Border Services and Canada Customs – but I was home; back in the land of universal health care and year-round discussions of hockey! I had a good 18 days in Chicago. The city was interesting, the courses were challenging and the people I got to know were good and nice people – and as you all probably suspect I didn’t get into this program to get a degree, I just wanted to make some new Facebook friends. Mission accomplished! It was good. But as I reflect back to that movie clip, I can truly say that after 18 days I now have a new appreciation of what Dorothy meant when she said "there’s no place like home!"

       I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about home lately – what it means, what it represents to us. I’m very aware that for some people, the first thought when they hear the word home isn’t a pleasant one. Some homes are abusive, unpleasant places to be. But maybe, as we think about the word, we realize that homes aren’t really the houses we live in or the people we grow up with. Maybe home is more than our city or country. Home is the place where we feel accepted and welcomed and loved – and always without condition. As the old saying says, "home is where the heart is." One of the great things about this wonderful faith we share is that our hearts belong to God – to a God who has come in Christ to "reconcile and make new" our United Church Creed says. Friends, whatever might have separated us from God is gone. Christ has accomplished that. Christ has reconciled us and made us new. Christ has done that for us – and so we don’t have to. By God’s grace, we’re accepted and welcomed and even loved by God – and doesn’t that sound like home?    

     I know – as I said – that some people have those negative images of either home or God than can make either seem less than welcoming. I’m thinking here of Psalm 139. That Psalm begins on such a wonderfully intimate note – "O Lord, You have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord." If you know you’re on good terms with God, that image of intimacy is wonderful – but how many, I wonder, aren’t sure about the reconciliation Christ has accomplished? How many aren’t sure that the reconciliation was for them? How many think they have every reason to doubt whether they’re welcomed and accepted and loved by their God? The author of the Psalm wondered. That wonderfully intimate opening imagery quickly faded away, and suddenly the psalmist seemed afraid – "Where can I go from Your Spirit," the psalmist asked. "Where can I flee from Your presence?" The author of the psalm wanted to get away from God. We don’t know why, but those words suggest that wanted to escape from God, just as some people want to escape their childhood homes as fast as they can or others want to escape their marriages as fast as they can. Had God "done" anything to the psalmist to cause such fear? No – but sometimes things can overwhelm us and we want to get away as quickly as we possibly can. That’s just the truth. The psalmist worked through this problem. No matter where he went, God was there. In heaven or in hell – God was there! In the morning and at night – God was there! Even when hiding in the darkest place around – God was there! And somewhere along the way, the psalmist finally seemed to realize that this wasn’t scary – that this was good news! God was there! "How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God!" And the psalmist realized – on behalf of us all – that no matter how fast or how far we try to run away from God, we can’t. "When I am awake, I am still with you." And suddenly, that wasn’t a frightening thought – it was a sense of assurance, an assurance of love and welcome and acceptance. To be with God was to be home. "We are not alone. We live in God’s world. We believe in God, Who has creating and is creating, Who has come in Jesus – the Word Made Flesh – to reconcile and make new." For the author of the psalm that was the moment of realizing that, indeed, "there's no place like home!" That was the moment when the psalmist realized: "I’m here and I’m home. This is where I’m accepted and loved and welcomed unconditionally. I’m with God! God is here!"

     About fifteen years ago I entered a hospital room in Grand Falls-Windsor, Newfoundland. The man I went to see was dying. He wasn't a church-goer and had never been a church-goer, but in Newfoundland the presence of a pastor was an expected part of that final journey, so I was asked to visit him. He was in pain and struggling to breathe. The family had told me that this man didn't care much for religion and probably wouldn't even acknowledge my presence, let alone speak to me. Sure enough, there was little response from him. I was young at the time and still quite new at this whole "pastor-thing" and quite overwhelmed by the situation. I wondered what I could possibly say to him that would have any meaning. Finally – and, frankly, because I couldn't think of anything else to do - I started to say the Lord's Prayer, and as I did the man looked at me and started to say the words with me. In that moment of prayer, it seemed to me that this man suddenly understood that God was real and that God was there, and it was almost like two ruby slippers clicked together, and that man traveled back into the comfort of a perhaps long-forgotten faith. Those few minutes reminded me that we can run as fast and as far as we want. God will let us run, but God will never let us get away. This man died probably not much more than an hour later, and it seemed to me that from the look on his face when he said the Lord's Prayer with me, he had already been welcomed home by a loving God who had never left him, no matter how far away he might have run.

               After Lynn and I adopted Hannah over five years ago now, our group was taken to the Beijing Airport to begin the journey home. As we waited, I vividly remember – after two weeks in China – one of our group suddenly running up to the rest of us, breathless with excitement and crying out "The Air Canada plane just pulled up to the gate!" And almost our entire group rushed to the Airport window just to look at an airplane with the words "Air Canada" written on it. We must have made quite a site. About 14 families, many with screaming and crying one year olds staring at an airplane - but it was the sign that we were going home. And, of course, I remember the thrill 11 hours later when the pilot announced that we were approaching the British Columbia coastline, and I lifted up our 1 year old Hannah and I got her to look out the window and I said to her "That's Canada! That's home!" That meant nothing to Hannah at the time of course, and I realize now that I said those words more for myself than for Hannah. I realize it because I felt it on Thursday, too, as I approached those three flags on the Peace Bridge – "that’s Canada. That’s home!" People of God – family of God – children of God – home is where the heart is, and our hearts belong to God. "God is with us. We are not alone. Thanks be to God!"