Dreams of Home

As we prepare for our first week of proper classes at Duke Divinity School, though filled with excitement and anticipation, Debs & I are all too aware this weekend of what we are missing at home. Ten years ago we were married on the main stage of Greenbelt Festival, a place we like to think of as our spiritual home. In the ever shifting sands of life it's a static point that has never ceased to move us, and move us forward in our journey of trying to follow that still small voice of God. I first went to Greenbelt in 92, (Debs in 96) and this is the first year since those dates that either of us has not been there. Could they possibly have known when they titled this year’s festival ‘Dreams of Home’ what it would mean to us at this time? Perhaps, perhaps not, but as usual somebody did. God knew how these words would resonate with us, not just in the physical distance between there and here, not just in the sentimental feelings of longing for the familiar, but also in that deeper question that goes the very heart of our identities; what is it that we call home? Who or what do we need around us before we can feel like we are in a safe place?

Home is about point zero, our starting point at the beginning of life or the beginning of this day. It is our sense of where the centre is and our relation to that centre in the here and now, both in a physical way and in every other way. Moving home physically can be tough enough but moving our hearts to a new understanding can be a tectonic experience. Today we heard about Duke Divinity School’s passion for diversity.  The challenge was that we need not just to listen to others but be able to enter into a dialogue with them; to come to the table with the openness to listen and even be changed by what we hear.

Dreams of home are not just memories, they are also aspirations. They are the dreams we have of what Heaven could be; they are what we mean when we utter those words ‘your kingdom come, your will be done.’ As I move towards a life of itinerant ministry, this journey to the far side of the Atlantic Ocean has brought into perspective, perhaps more than any other journey, my need for us to carry heaven with us where ever we go, not just for the benefit of others but for the survival of our innermost beings. I do not need to be at Greenbelt to bring the spirit of Greenbelt to this place. I do not need to be in the familiar surroundings of the British Methodist Church to bring all that is good about British Methodism to this place.  I do not need the BBC, though that is one area I am still struggling with. Most of all I do not need to be anywhere in particular in order to be Christ to a stranger, or to allow a stranger to be Christ to me.

Pete B

You know you're in America when...

(No 3) You can get chicken... in a biscuit!