Homesick | Luke 2:25-36 | 10.11.26

Well, good morning, Lake Forest.

It is always a gift to get to be with y'all.

Um, I was telling Chad how I have gotten to preach at this church.

I will be starting eight years at Eukirk since before Chad and early in the days of Mark.

And so I have been preaching here so often that I'm out of pulpit supply sermons and had to write a whole new one for you guys.

So it's amazing.

And I'm also like, come on, now I've got a new pulpit supply sermon, which is great.

But our scripture today is coming from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 21, 25 through 36.

Luke 21 · chapter mention

Hear what God is saying to the church.

There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth, distress among nations, confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.

People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.

For the powers of the heavens will be shaken, then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.

Now, when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads because your redemption is drawing near.

Then he told them a parable.

As soon as they sprout leaves, you can see for yourself and know that summer is already near.

So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.

Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place.

Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly like a trap.

For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth, be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place and to stand before the Son of Man.

For the Word of God in Scripture, for the Word of God among us, for the Word of God within us, friends, this is God's word for God's people.

Thanks be to God.

May all join me in prayer.

Holy one, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be welcome in your sight, our rock and redeemer, spirit and sustainer.

Amen.

So similar to what I was just talking with the kids about, I was thinking about the idea of being on a trip and that moment, there's always a moment where you are ready to go home.

The stuff in your suitcase is no longer cute, or it really needs laundry, or there's just something about it, and you are ready to be done traveling.

Maybe you miss your bed, like I told them, maybe you miss an orthopedic pillow, maybe you miss your dog or your own meals, just something familiar.

My husband and I did this uh camping trip through the Southwest about 10 years ago, and about five days in, he looked at me and he said, Do you remember towels?

Because we had been using those quick dry towels, which never really get you quite dry.

And we just sat for a minute and talked about towels, just fluffy towels, right out of the dryer.

And we checked it to an Airbnb that evening because we just needed a towel.

We were homesick for the comforts of home, and we all know that feeling.

Maybe you were at summer camp as a kid and you remember not sleeping in a bunk bed or traveling abroad or visiting family for just a little bit too long.

Maybe this past week, for me, this past week was fall break, uh, and it was uh long, and I was homesick for a routine.

And there's this wonderful southern phrase that fish and family go bad after three days.

And sometimes where you're just homesick for what is next.

We know what it means to be homesick for a place that we have been, a place that is familiar.

But there is also an idea that you could be homesick for a place you have never been.

There's a great German word, the Germans always have the best words for things, is fernway, which literally means far sickness.

It is longing for somewhere else, a homesickness for a place you have not experienced yet.

And I think a lot of us know that type of homesickness.

I've noticed it in the stories that we tell and the shows that we watch.

A couple years ago, all of the TV shows were like, this is what life looks like post-pandemic.

This is how people are living.

Post-pandemic, we were all looking toward a future we didn't have yet.

We were drawn towards a vision of something that felt different.

Because it makes us homesick for a world that we don't know yet, but a world we dream about, a world where we aren't so anxious, where we aren't constantly bombarded by unbelievable news every single day.

A world where our children just feel safe and our neighbors are experiencing justice and we aren't constantly bracing for the next terrible thing.

We are homesick for a future we haven't seen, but a future we hope for, and it is hard to live in the present when we are constantly hoping for something else.

And this is where this strange passage in Luke meets us.

Luke's community at this time was living in this same tension.

This part was written somewhere around 50 years after Jesus had died, and they were living under a Roman occupation, trying to figure out what does it mean to follow Jesus when Jesus is no longer physically with them, and he was supposed to be back by now, and he's not.

So, how do we live right now?

The world doesn't look the way they thought it would.

It doesn't look like Jesus said it would, so the kingdom of God has not come like they expected it to, and they are waiting and waiting and living in what theologians call the already, but not yet.

Already God has come near, already Jesus has shown us what the kingdom of God looks like, but not yet is everything healed.

Not yet is everything just, not yet does the world look like God intended.

They are homesick for a place that they have never been, and then in the middle of all this fear and uncertainty, Jesus says, Stand up, raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

Raise your heads, stand up, pay attention.

Jesus redirects their vision from what they do not have to what is already happening around them.

The kingdom of God is near.

Not just someday, not just whenever in the future, not somewhere else, but near.

It is happening here.

Because when our vision is so directed towards what happens next and what the future holds, we miss what's happening around us.

They say that adulthood is just saying, after this week, things will slow down a bit over and over till you die.

And we're just always thinking about that moment when things will slow down a bit and we miss where we are right now.

And I have to tell you, the more I sat with this text, the more I thought about campus ministry.

I can't stand up here and not talk to you about campus ministry.

Because if you've ever been a student or know a student, from the moment you step on campus, you are being asked, what comes next?

What's your major?

What do you want to do?

What internship are you gonna have?

What are you gonna do this summer?

What's happening over fall break?

What's happening over spring break?

What job are you going to have?

Where will you live?

Who will you become?

The whole college experience becomes a four, maybe five, maybe six year project of preparing for the future.

And at the same time, they are so homesick.

Homesick for a life that they left behind, homesick for families and friends and familiar routines and someone else to do their laundry.

And they can find themselves homesick on both ends.

Homesick for a past and homesick for the true future they have yet to become.

Living in the tension of already, but not yet.

And honestly, I think that's where a lot of us live.

We are always waiting for something, waiting for things to get easier, waiting for anxiety to settle down, waiting for a future where we will surely find out that everything feels alright.

And in that space, Jesus says, raise your heads, look around.

God is here.

God is not waiting for some future version of you to become worthy of love.

God loves you now.

Not because of who you are becoming, not because of what you have done, but because of who you are right now.

And maybe that is what we need to hear when we are homesick for a world that doesn't exist.

We do not have to wait for the kingdom of God to arrive in order to start living in it.

We can practice it here.

We can create spaces where people feel welcome.

We can make room for one another.

We can listen.

We can pursue justice.

We can love our neighbors.

We can pay attention to the small places where God is already breaking through.

We just lift up our heads.

We stop scrolling through the calendar to see what's happening in 2028.

And we do what the great poet Mary Oliver says for instructions for living a life.

Pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.

Pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.

Pay attention, raise your heads, look around, be astonished at the kingdom of God that already exists around you, in your neighbors, in your relationships, and then tell about it.

Tell people about the joy and the grace and the love and the heartbreak that you know in this world.

Because even here, even now, God is close, God is with us in the uncertainty, in the waiting, in the already, but not yet.

God has not left us alone.

God walks with us through the anxiety, through the craziness of our schedules, through this unfinished world inviting us to use our abilities to help create a little more of the kingdom right here.

The kingdom will not come all at once.

It's like building a house.

It takes piece by piece by piece.

So when you find yourself homesick for something you cannot quite name, hoping that if we could just get this thing finished, then I will feel okay.

Let that longing lead you towards hope.

Lift up your head, pay attention, maybe give yourself a pause to look around and be astonished.

And then tell about it.

Let it lead you towards love, let it remind you that this world is not finished yet.

And maybe in the meantime, we can make a little home here.

A home where people find comfort, a home where people find safety, a home where people find an open table where they are just ready to be invited in.

In this place, in this moment, pay attention.

Lift up your heads.

Notice the kingdom of God around you.

It is an unfinished world, but that means we have work to do.

The future isn't here yet.

So let's live fully alive right now.

And trust that God is already there.

God is already at work.

And God's love is always creating a home and inviting us in.

May it be so.

Amen.