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Come home to GodA few years ago we traveled to Guatemala, and stayed for a few days on the shores of Lake Atitlan, which is surely one of the most beautiful places on earth. Standing on a hillside above the deep, still, blue water, you face a matching pair of massive volcanic mountains on the other shore. Occasionally taxi boats drift by, and the little villages are connected not by roads, but footpaths. Gentle, colorful, beautiful people walk by all day.
It is easy to understand why the people of Atitlan believe that this is the center of the universe, the place from which all life was generated. They’re not alone in this belief, of course, because almost every indigenous people think that their holy place is the same. And they’re all right. Everywhere is the center of the universe, because the universe is infinite in all directions. This holy place is the center of the universe.
For the ancient Jewish people, Jerusalem was that center. It was the location where they placed the ark of the covenant, a large chest that contained the commandments of God engraved on stone tablets. Later, they built a glorious temple around this holy ark, and all the sacrifices of the people took place there for 400 years.
But then the Babylonians conquered them, tore down the temple, and wrenched the people from the center of the universe. They were taken off into exile in what is now Iraq and lived there for 70 years. When they were allowed to return home, their prophets wrote things like what we heard in the first reading from Baruch today:
Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height;
look toward the east,
and see your children gathered from west and east
at the word of the Holy One,
rejoicing that God has remembered them.
And so thousands of them made a joyful procession home through the desert. It was as if the mountains were being leveled and the valleys filled in so that the people could have a safe and easy walk home. Home, to the holy place where God lived. Home, to the center of the universe.
Jump ahead about 600 years. A scruffy, loud man was dressed in animal skins, baptizing people in the Jordan River. He was Jesus’ own cousin and, perhaps, his teacher. John very deliberately recalled the words of the ancient prophets as he taught the crowds:
Prepare the way of the Lord…
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low…
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.
As was obvious to every person there, John was calling them to return from exile, to come home to the center of the universe, to be gathered by God to the holy place. But what could he mean? They weren’t in exile; they were already home in the holy land of Israel, weren’t they?
John was speaking of a different kind of exile, return, and home. He was speaking of a return to the God who dwells in our heart. The temple is our body, our heart; it is the holy place where the Holy One resides. It is the center of the universe. It is the place out of which all life is generated. And yes, we are often exiled from this home. John’s message to all was Repent – that is, return to the Lord. Come home.
This time of year I sometimes feel stretched pretty thin; don’t you? After a tiring day of work, driving on the freeway as it’s getting dark and cold, stopping somewhere to pick up groceries or a Christmas gift for someone, worrying about our problems, listening to the latest horrible news about Baghdad, we feel the exile. Scattered, disconnected, off-center.
Then we come home, light a fire in the fireplace, talk to our cats or our loved ones, sink into a chair, and begin to feel human again. Home. What a haven it can be. How restoring. The center of the universe.
John the Baptist calls us to a deeper home, however. He calls us into the heart, the temple of God. If we can but return there, no matter where we are, no matter how scattered or exiled we may feel, we can be at home. Return from exile to your own inner Lake Atitlan, to your own Jerusalem. Be gathered together and come home.
But I don’t want to just talk about this today. I want us to do it, right here in the middle of this busy month. So I’m going to lead you in prayer, using something from the beautiful tradition of Eastern Orthodox spirituality called the prayer of the heart.
Sit up straight, put both feet on the floor, and unclasp your hands. Close your eyes or leave them open, as you wish.
Silences follow each of the instructions below.
Notice wherever there is tension in your body and release it.
Pay attention to your breathing; follow it as it goes in and out.
Now place your awareness in your heart, beating in your chest.
Picture it, if you can, pumping blood, keeping you alive.
It is the temple of the Holy Spirit. God is there, in your center.
Imagine that the Spirit is softening your heart, warming it.
Your heart is softening, warming, full of God’s love.
As thoughts arise in your mind, return your attention to your heart. Keep it there.
Your breath goes in and out. Your heart is soft, warm, full of God’s love.
Just be still for awhile, keeping your attention on your heart, your breath.
Stay there, loving God.
Long silence
O God of peace, you have taught us
that in returning and rest we shall be saved,
in quietness and confidence shall be our strength:
By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray, to your presence,
where we may be still and know that you are God;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Welcome home.
End Document — St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church