|
ON "HOME"
Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests,
but the son of man has no-where to lay his head. (Matthew 8:20 and Luke 9:58)
|
|
| Just got a phone call from a guy in Olympia... “Are you home now?” Not unlike another question from a lady we met on the jogging trail...“Are you home for good?” |
| In
both cases I was almost confused about my home. I just got back from
living my outdoor life at our cabin compound on Puget Sound. Still
can't figure out which tools are here in Corvallis and which ones in my
shop at the cabin. It has been “hOme” for four months. But we, along
with most people, think of Corvallis as our home because we spend at
least five months here. Besides, it's where we have most of our stuff. |
| The
state thinks home is where I license my car. I look on my driver's
license. The address says my picture belongs in Corvallis, Oregon. They
don't care that we're on the road a lot, sleeping in many different
places in the course of a year. |
| For
some reason it made me think of Jesus. He was born away from home and
we have no knowledge of how many years he actually lived with his
family. I looked up this text In which Jesus claims to have no-where to
lay his head. This may be one of the rare things Jesus actually said.
At least the Jesus seminar scholars think so. |
| The
stones we have show Jesus traveling here and there, staying with
different people. I don't know what he would call “home.” Nazareth,
perhaps? It really wasn't an issue with him. He and his closest
followers apparently lived like homeless guys, living day by day as
they could. |
| I happened to be looking at a children's Bible and realized that every portrayal of Jesus was outdoors. His home was outdoors. |
| First
thing Jean and 1 did when we got our Jeep unloaded was to go outside
and sit on our deck. looked out over the Oregon fields and rolling
hills of the coast range. We've been out there every chance we get. “Just like at the cabin,”
I said. We spend all day outdoors when we're there. (If you've been to
our place you know that everything except the sleeping rooms and
bathroom/shower room are outdoors--even the kitchen). |
| Kathleen
Moore, a philosopher and writer, tells of the homing instincts of
salamanders, garter snakes, pigeons, and songbirds. Something calls
them home and they find their way. I wonder about my own instincts. Why
have I always refused to consider good professional opportunities away
from the west coast? Why am I drawn to the waters of Puget Sound? |
Our friend, Franz Dolp, who died recently, has a poem about salmon, with lines about life origins...
To be born of the river is not great
We are all born of the river.
To know the color, light, scent, lay of the rock,
the naked roots of the alder, the cedar
where the river cuts the bank,
to know where you were born, this is great.
|
| Well,
I was born in Seattle and sometimes I call it “home,” but I am not
drawn to it. I've been at home in Berkeley, Kelso, Los Angeles and
Corvallis. I think I could live anywhere. I have many places to lay my
head. |
| But
I think my ideal place to be is outdoors. I am part of nature. I like
the sun on me, and the wind. I like the smells of the lOw tide and the
morning fire and the forest around me. I like being on the water, and
whenever it is warm enough, in it. I swam in Puget Sound many times
after coming in from sailing. This is home, where I am truly born, this
is great. |
| So,
we're home. Not again, but still. We're always at home when we stay In
touch with the “river” of our birth. Whether from our deck at the cabin
or our deck at home or on the walking path along the river, or anywhere
on this marvelous earth, we are home. Again and still. And we are
grateful. — Art Morgan, October 2004
|
|