Going Home

Dorothy told us there was no place like home, and she was right. But where exactly is home? And can’t “home” mean many things? As a boy, “going home” referred to home plate. It could also mean to finish strong, as in “bring it home.” Mostly going home was about Mom and Dad’s house and the places and memories of childhood.

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Did Jesus have a home? Yes, he did, it was Nazareth. He would be called, “Jesus of Nazareth” and “the Nazarene.” He later moved to Capernaum, but Nazareth was home; it’s where his family lived.

On one occasion he went to Nazareth, entered the  Synagogue, and taught from Isaiah 61. Everyone spoke well of him, “Our hometown boy has become a Rabbi. Isn’t it wonderful?” He then told them, “No prophet is accepted in his home town,” meaning that the Gentiles and Pagans would benefit from his teaching before the people of Nazareth would. Furious, they intended  to throw him off a cliff. But they didn’t; they couldn’t kill him.


Someone said, “You can never go home again.” Jesus would never again be just Joseph and Mary’s son. He would never be the little boy the village had known. He grew up, became a Rabbi, and was confirmed by John to be the Anointed One. He had a divine purpose, and it wasn’t going back to make good in the carpentry business. For Jesus, purpose was defined by setting his face towards Jerusalem. The Nazarenes couldn’t kill him; it wasn’t his time, but his time would come, and it would be in Jerusalem.

So I ask, “Have you gown up? Have I?” Are we filled with purpose, or do we only dream about the glory days of youth, longing for that home town experience? It’s easy to imagine a simpler life with fewer responsibilities.

I love going home. But real fulfillment comes not from dreaming about my past but from the mission God placed in my life. Each day should be spent pursuing my calling, my mission. My face should be set on something more, something bigger. For me, that bigger thing is God’s Kingdom.

What is it for you?


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