Home.

It is where we head after a day spent at work, school, play.
It is where we eat, nourishing our body for the road ahead.
It is where we sleep, finding solace for the night.
It is where we wake, heading into the world once again.
It is where we are embraced, supported, cared for, loved.

It is when college students in dorms miss the smells of their rooms – even if it’s soiled laundry. They yearn for home.

It is when the elderly in assisted living miss their curio cabinets, filled with what they once had. They long for home.

It is when our family had an absolutely wonderful trip to the Cascade mountains this summer, and couldn’t help but wonder how our family dog Churro was doing. Because we missed her.

Where was Churro? She was here, in Des Moines. At home.

It is our shelter from the storm.
It is the canvas for our love.
It is our mosaic of shared laughter.
It is the garden where affection grows.
It is our cornerstone of stability.

It is home.

Ideally home is all of that for us.
Other times, sadly, reality falls short.

Sometimes our homes suffer from abuse, addiction, neglect.
Or have dysfunction between partners, parents, siblings.
Other times they are much quieter than they once were.

In these moments we can’t help but desire more –
Peace, community, love, life.

This is what it is to be home.

Conversations
Today’s text concludes a five-week study of John chapter 6. The chapter begins with feeding the multitudes. Thousands of hungry people, who didn’t have much to start with, were fed. The people there that day were exuberant. And why not? Look at all that Jesus had done.

The story continues with disciples at sea. The winds were strong, the waters rough, the boat rocked to and fro. Jesus arrives, walks on water, calms the storms, says simply fear not. The boat arrives, destination reached, all aboard are safe and sound.

Bellies filled, fears calmed, people can’t help but wonder –

Who is this man?
What does he represent?
What might this mean?

Jesus said to them, I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry. Whoever believes in me will never thirst.

Not understanding, those gathered complained amongst themselves.

Jesus continued, saying, whoever eats of this bread will have eternal life.

They complained amongst themselves some more.

Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them, Jesus continued, trying to explain once again.

To abide is:
to dwell,
to reside,
to live.

Said differently, whoever eats of the bread, and drinks from the cup, is at home in Christ. Just as Christ is at home in them.

In that moment Jesus had offered a home improvement, an upgrade to that which they did not have: the chance to be one with the Son of God.

Many gathered there still struggled to understand.

This teaching is difficult, they said, who can accept it?

It turns out very few. For that day, scripture says, many of his disciples headed back to their earthly homes. Christ offered them the gift of oneness with the divine. But the people feared change. So they withdrew, turning back to what they already knew.

Jesus then turned to the twelve that remained, asking do you also wish to go away? Simon Peter answered, Lord to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.

In just a day or two, the multitudes that had been fed and were following this teacher – thousands of them – had whittled down to just twelve.

Why? Because Jesus defined what it is to be a Christ-follower. Scripture says it offended many.

Those that remained –
knew who they were,
knew whose they were,
knew what they had been called to do.

For they were at home in Christ.
And Christ was at home in them.

Jesus and the twelve then got organized, went out, and got to sharing Christ’s salvific love for the world. Two millennia later we are called to do the same.

Here
At St. John’s, we take this notion of being home to heart.

For if God so loves the world – and God does – it sets a very high bar. For God desires that each of us find our home in Christ.

As a Reconciling in Christ congregation our welcome extends to all of God’s children, without exception.

Whether you are –
Gay or straight,
Trans or bi,

Or go by –
He/him
She/her
They/them
He/they
She/they

or any other combination of categories or pronouns possible – and there are a lot – please know: you can be yourself here. And you are loved.

Our welcome statement is expansive. We celebrate you for you, regardless of your marital status, gender identity and expression, mental or physical abilities, cultural background, immigration status, and any other demographic there is.

We believe all people are created in God’s image. We honor and respect all of it. As a community of faith our mission is to be a caring, loving people, actively engaged in living out God’s vision for this world.

Jesus
Earlier this week, right around noon, I found myself walking past our office entrance and glanced out the window to our courtyard. I watched as a Latino mother and her young daughter entered the Courtyard with a sandwich, an orange, some lemonade. They had just gotten their meal from the Connection Café. That’s the free lunch program we offer here five days a week to the food insecure and unhoused, no questions asked.

Spotting the bench next to the Jesus statue that overlooks our fountain, the two went and sat down. The girl wore a brightly colored, flower filled flowing dress. She looked to be about four or five years old. Seeming a bit antsy, the girl stood up, went to the statue, reached her right hand out, touched Christ’s cloak, and smiled.

She then leaned down, putting both her hands in the water Jesus stands over, playfully splashed and laughed. With joy in her face she turned around, looked at mom, happy as she could be. Mom motioned for the girl to join her on the bench. She did. Mom then handed her a sandwich. The girl sat down, took a bite of bread, gazed up at the face of Jesus, smiling contentedly some more.

Watching this beautiful moment, I couldn’t help but be reminded of another gospel text.

If only I could touch his cloak, the ailing woman said, I shall be made whole.

The woman did. The woman was instantly healed.

And here, in the courtyard of St. John’s, this little girl had done the same. In that moment all her needs were met.

I don’t know if these two were US Citizens, or immigrants, or had a green card.
I can’t tell you how well either spoke English. Or if they spoke English at all.
I can’t tell you if mom had a job. I don’t know if the two have a home.

But we fed them.

Not because we think they deserve it.
We feed people because they are hungry.
For that is what Christ calls us to do.

And if they ever wanted to lay their heads down, at the feet of Jesus in our courtyard, day or night, that would be a-ok.

But let’s be honest, we have a low-income housing shortage in Des Moines. A shortage that our local government isn’t taking as seriously as they should. We can do better than that.

Apply
Here at St. John’s, we too offer –

Shelter from the storm.
A mosaic of shared laughter.
A canvas for our love.
A cornerstone of stability.
A courtyard where affection grows.

We offer that for members, guests, neighbors, friends.
We offer that for homeowners, renters, couch surfers, the unhoused.
We offer that to all of God’s children. We do so no matter what.

At each and every service, Pastor Stephanie or I, before distributing the bread and the wine, offer an invitation.

All are welcome at the Lord’s table.

These are words we don’t take lightly.
These are words we take to heart.

Like today’s gospel, you may find yourselves thinking, this teaching is difficult, who can accept it?

If that’s you, keep asking questions, keep learning.
Following Christ represents the path less traveled.
It is a difficult, yet rewarding journey we are on.

Do you want to abide in Christ, as Christ abides in you?
And do so among a diverse tapestry of Creation that includes all?

If this sounds like something you’d like to be part of, I have good news for you, beloved.

Welcome home. Amen.