A Place Called Home
“…the same restlessness that sends us searching for community also keeps us from settling down wherever we are.” Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove
“In whatever place you find yourself, do not easily leave it.” St. Antony
As a young adult, I developed a faith that was reluctant to put down any roots, lest I become too comfortable and secure in “the things of this world”.
My parents remember me boldly proclaiming to them, “I will never own a house!” This striking statement was not the result of feeling overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of money required to buy my own piece of property, but by the idealism of a young Christian determined to follow Jesus without any encumbrance.
For if the Master said “Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head”, then I figured I too should resist getting settled anywhere in particular and certainly not get attached to a hunk of land.
My theology at the time, which led to me conclude that Jesus would likely return before I had the opportunity to marry and have children, assisted my well-intentioned but narrow perspective. There was no time for earthly treasures or distractions. We Christians were “just a passin’ thru”, pilgrims or sojourners fixed on getting to our heavenly home.
Decades later, it’s easy for me to reflect back at my naivety and laugh about it all. Some time after we married, Jill and I did put down our roots, buying a house and raising our young family there. It was the exact opposite of what I had intended just a few years prior!
And yet … maybe there is something to be said for my youthful exuberance and idealism. However warped my perspective was, perhaps I did manage to catch a glimpse of an aspect of God’s intention for my life?
God’s people on the move – and God’s people staying put
When we read the story of God’s people through the Bible, we find a potentially confusing array of responses to God’s call.
On one hand, there are many examples of people obeying God by extracting themselves from a particular place and moving on, while there are lots of others who put down deep roots and settle.
For example, in Genesis we find Abram and Sarai picking up their possessions and extended family and striking out from their homeland of Ur on a journey to an unfamiliar land. Years later, their descendants, having been settled in Egypt for many generations, flee the only land they had known, and set out for the same land promised to their ancestor Abraham.
It is here in this “Promised Land” that God’s people base themselves for the majority of the Old Testament story. In this “land flowing with milk and honey” they are commanded to take possession (sounds like a real estate term!), inhabit the cities and divide the land up among the twelve tribes. They settled in for a long stay – several hundreds years, in fact.
Then there is a jarring interruption to this generational stability, as the Israelites are ripped from their land by a brutal foreign superpower.
However, even in Babylon, displaced and disoriented from their homeland, the Jews are encouraged to put down roots – to make a home, albeit a temporary one – in the land of their exile. The people are told to “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce…” as well as to “Seek the peace and prosperity of the city…”[1]
In contrast, in the New Testament we have the example of Jesus (already mentioned) with several key disciples in tow, leading a meandering existence around Palestine for three years, relying on the hospitality of others. Then there is Paul, who with various companions, wanders around the Roman Empire for significant chunks of his adult life. And yet we see little evidence of Jesus or Paul suggesting that their peripatetic lifestyle should be the norm. In fact, most people who responded to Jesus’ call did not join him “on the road”. And in the New Testament period, churches are established in numerous locations, where the good news of the Kingdom is worked out among settled communities going about their everyday life.
The centrality of “place”
It’s worth noting that even with Jesus, his whole life was largely confined to a narrow strip of land little more than 100 miles (160km) long. From Capernaum and Nazareth in the north, to Jerusalem and Bethlehem in the south, Jesus lived his thirty-three years in largely familiar surroundings.
His “world” was Palestine; his “neighbourhood” was Galilee. He lived out his short existence mainly among people he knew. In fact, most of that time Jesus probably travelled no more than a day’s walk from his home village, Nazareth (bar his birth in Bethlehem, time as an infant in Egypt, and a short pilgrimage to Jerusalem with his parents, when he was twelve).
When John writes that the Word (Jesus) “moved into the neighbourhood”, that’s exactly what he did. Most English translations read something like, “And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” He pitched his tent and resided among us.
The English word often used to refer to this is “incarnation” – to live out in real, in-the-flesh, ways. The truth is that the people Jesus grew up among – those he played with, worked with, ate with, and worshipped with – saw in touchable, visible ways what God’s kingdom was like.[2] John is at pains to emphasise to his readers this tangible, in-your-face presence of God.
We too, are to live out our faith in a specific place. As Simon Holt notes: “God’s call is not a call to be everywhere; it’s a call to be somewhere.”[3]
Most indigenous cultures have a much better take on this than those of us from Western backgrounds. Consumer culture tends toward viewing any real estate as a resource – valued primarily for its commercial worth, free to be traded as and when required. However, like the Hebrews, many indigenous people recognise that their personhood and identity (both individually and collectively) is wrapped up in their land. You might like to say that their culture and way of living is “earthed”. The buildings we reside in, the land we inhabit, the communities we create, are not just incidental commodities, with no real significance. They are intimately connected with who we are and are to become as humans.
Now of course, we can all develop a sense of rootedness and connection to a place without necessarily owning real estate. Many people live in a neighbourhood for decades, even generations, without ever purchasing a house or land.[4] Becoming “earthed” is not restricted to those with a certificate of title. It is for any who have truly allowed themselves to put down roots and become part of the very fabric of a specific place.
New Zealand Maori have a wonderful word for this: tūrangawaewae. Literally tūranga (standing place), waewae (feet), it is often translated as “a place to stand”. Tūrangawaewae are places where we feel especially empowered and connected. They are our foundation; our particular place in the world. Our home.
The paradox of ‘place”
So God intends for us to put down our roots, to work out our faith, in the context of a particular place. But we must always do so that reminds us that ultimately where we live is not our final destination, or home. We are to be exiles in a foreign land, representatives of a foreign power, colonising the specific places we find ourselves in. Resident aliens, if you like.[5] Just like the people of Israel were in captivity.
“Resident” infers that we are fully present and involved. Not just occupying/taking up space. It involves taking seriously the role of being a neighbour and citizen of “our place”.
“Alien” reminds us that we are both insiders and outsiders. While we seek to become part of our specific location, we will never be fully at home. For our ultimate allegiance is to another land. We take orders from a foreign king. Jesus is his name. And his intention is for us to live out his life fully present and incarnated where we are, but in a way that represents the values of our supreme, heavenly citizenship.
Naturally then, there should be some unease and tension felt by the juxtaposition of resident and alien. At times God may need to challenge us to become less attached to our place, while some times it may require a call to put down roots more deeply that we require.
For there are dangers to an overemphasis on either the resident or the alien status of our living. If I see myself too much as a resident, I might forget that my primary call is to represent the kingdom of God. If I see myself too greatly as an alien, I will be reluctant to get involved deeply in the affairs of my neighbourhood and community; to try and influence from a distance, rather than in the midst of it all.
“I’m outta here”
The call to earth our lives in a specific place, has implications for both where we live and how we live.
This is particularly true in the highly mobile culture we live in. Over the past few decades, permanence has become less and less a feature of our living.
A recent NZ survey discovered that over a quarter of Kiwis had moved in the previous two years. This is consistent with most data across the Western world, which points to 5-7 years being the average time people stay in a house.
This is an enormous contrast to previous generations. My mother has lived in the same house for all but seventy of her nearly eighty years. Her story is not uncommon among people her age, but such stability is likely to become as rare as hens’ teeth in a few years time.
So why do we move houses and neighbourhoods so often? Why is mobility so much a factor in our twenty-first century living?
One reason is our increasingly globalised economy, which has resulted in people and families moving all over the country – indeed all over the world – frequently because of work opportunities.
Another reason is the constant flux of many households. Relationships come and go – marriages fall apart, new partners are found, all manner of relational arrangements are changed.
Still yet another factor is the attitude of many landlords toward their tenants. When a residential property is seen primarily as an investment that can be bought and sold when “the price is right”, many tenants become dislocated (kind of “collateral damage”). They are forced to move because the owner doesn’t take seriously the responsibility of providing a stable home for those who are renting.
Another key reason for our mobility is that dissatisfaction is fundamental to our consumer culture. As sociologist Bernard McGrane notes, “One of the sub-texts of all advertising is: ‘You’re not okay the way you are. You need help. You need salvation.” We are bred to be discontent with what we have and who we are. In most quarters, striving to move to a bigger and/or better house in a better neighbourhood is considered normal. Even among Christians.
For twenty-two years we lived in a lower socio-economic suburb, with no desire or reason to move. Many times we watched others (some with, and others without faith) move out of the community, generally to a better and/or bigger house in a “better” suburb. It seemed to us that our suburb was viewed primarily as a place you landed if you had no choice – or as simply the first rung on the property ladder. Naenae was not a destination of choice.
And yet…there were many who did stay, putting down roots and contributing immensely to our vibrant community.
We had come to Naenae because we found a house big enough and cheap enough to raise a family in and use as a base for youth work. There had been no great sense of call to this particular suburb. However, the longer we lived in this place, the more it seeped into our bones. You might say that we grew with the community. Naenae became our place.
Ultimately we were to move from Naenae not because of any dissatisfaction with the place, but because of a sense of call to move closer to the faith community and work we had increasingly become involved with.
It was a reluctant move, one undertaken with a certain amount of grief. I remember our whole family returning to our empty house the night before ownership was transferred. We walked through the rooms and pondered all the stories this house contained. The walls echoed memories. It was a sacred moment.
Stability vs Mobility
Regardless of whether we feel we are living in our current house or neighbourhood by intention, accident, or default, God wants us to take seriously where we reside. From his perspective it is no mere coincidence or mistake.
There are tremendous advantages to staying put in the same neighbourhood.
One is that relationships take time to grow. Ironically, though most of us yearn for a greater sense of community, we fail to see how our constant moving from one place to another, and from one church to another, undermines our desire for greater connection. While there are some stimuli to going deeper – such as a crisis or tragedy – generally our bonds with our neighbourhood, community, and church rely heavily on simply “doing time” together.
Jill and I well remember our new neighbours, Jerry and Kate, moving in across the street. After taking over some scones on the day they arrived, we set about trying to connect with them. Jerry, a plumber by trade, seemed warm enough. But his partner Kate was cold and distant. She avoided any eye contact. Often I would be walking down the street and see Kate driving past on her way to work. I made a point of always smiling and waving, though it became a standing joke of mine that I must be invisible to Kate as there was never even a vague hint of acknowledgement. However, about three years after they had moved in, it happened. I waved and smiled – and Kate waved and smiled back! I nearly fell over.
A further breakthrough occurred when Jill and I hosted a neighbourhood barbecue in our back yard. To be honest, we weren’t sure Jerry and Kate would come, but to our pleasant surprise they turned up, intending to stay just a few minutes. When Kate saw Jill’s garden she quickly became engaged and animated. She loved gardening and was just beginning to develop one herself. “Could Jill come over and give her some advice?”
Eventually Jerry and Kate became very good neighbours and friends. We attended their wedding, kept an eye on each other’s houses, and shared our skills. Additionally, Kate told us a number of times of her intrigue about the Christian faith (we discovered she had a Christian boss who she greatly admired) and her own struggles and pain. We felt a lot of sadness when they moved to the countryside, just a year before we too left Naenae.
Do I move or do I stay?
In spite of the tremendous advantages of putting down our roots in one place, there are times when many of us will consider moving on from where we live. How do we determine whether or not it is right and appropriate to pack up and move on? An absolute key is to carefully examine the reason(s) or motives for leaving. To do so, most of us will need others who know us well and are able to open-endedly ask the questions and reflect back to us what we are projecting. For frequently we are not particularly in touch with what’s really driving our thoughts and feelings.
Because of our heavy cultural bias to mobility, I’d like to suggest that we contemplate moving with a posture of scepticism. That is, we begin with an assumption that God wants us to stay (no matter of how hard we are finding things) while being open to compelling reasons and/or a strong sense of guidance to the contrary.
While I’m hesitant to categorically state what might be good and bad reasons for moving, the following are some rough guidelines worth considering.
Poor reasons for moving:
- A desire to “move up in the world” – looking for a “better” and more upmarket home and/or neighbourhood.
- Becoming tired, bored, or restless with our house, neighbourhood, relationships, or life.
- Finding “the house (or lifestyle) of our dreams”.
- Running from difficult people or situations.
- A fear of getting in a rut.
Good reasons for moving:
- More integration between home, work, and church communities.
- A sense of call to a particular place and/or Christian community.
- A home better suited for hospitality and mission (often enabled by a move of house, not neighbourhood).
- Downsizing houses (again, this doesn’t generally require a change of neighbourhood).
As with so many decisions in life, sensing God’s direction is often not easy, and it’s particularly challenging when it comes to perennial opportunities such as job transfers and/or promotions, or moving closer to extended family.
A place called home
We all desire a home of stability.
Nevertheless, there are some dangers and risks to living in the same place year after year. Here are three I’ve faced:
1. Familiarity can breed contempt. At times I have despised the messy community I’m part of – longing to be somewhere else. In doing so, I fail to see the way God is working right under my nose, and the vision he has for transforming this place of mine (and me in the process!).
2. Finding a place called home can be confused with finding a safe, risk-averse, comfortable and predictable life. Having “marked out my territory” I can easily lose the impulse to go beyond my own world and stretch my faith and resources.
3. The longer I stay in familiar territory the less empathy I may have for the stranger and the other. When you’re so at home in your environs you can lose perspective on what it might be like for those who are on unfamiliar turf. You may even resent such “intrusions”.
At the same time, as I’ve already alluded to, mobility has its own challenges and dangers. While some people thrive on the excitement of new experiences and places, they can easily become “wanderlust-junkies” – forever restless and looking for the new adventure, never content with where they are. And in moving on we can miss the deep work God wants to do in our lives – and the lives of those around us.
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
Exercise
Chart your “living” history so far. In either graph or word form, map out where you have lived over your lifetime, identifying (if you can) why you moved on, what challenges and new opportunities each move brought.
Are there any moves that if you had your time again you might reconsider or do differently?
Were there any moves “forced on you”? (eg landlord calling time on tenancy; couldn’t afford to live in place any longer etc.) How did you feel about this?
Questions
1. Read and reflect on the following examples in the Bible of people moving. What appeared to be the reason for them leaving? What might we learn from their stories?
Adam and Eve Gen 3:22-24
Babel Gen 11:1-9
Abram and Sarai Gen 12 & 13
Jacob Gen 27:41 – 29:1
Moses Exod 2:11-22
People of Israel Exod 12:31-50; 13:17-22
Naomi and Ruth Ruth 1
David 1 Sam 21:10 – 22:5
The Exile 2 Chron 36:15-21
Church in Jerusalem Acts 8:1-4; 11:19-21
Paul and Barnabas Acts 13:1-3
2. What do you think God meant when he instructed the people of Israel to regard themselves as “sojourners” – even though they were rooted in the Promised Land?
3. What do you think are some of the risks or dangers of staying in one place?
4. What do you think are some of the risks or dangers of moving?
5. Discuss the following statement by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove: “The trouble for most of us isn’t so much that we cannot afford stability as it that we don’t value it. We idealize and aspire to a life on the move, spending what resources we have on acquiring skills that make us more marketable (that is, more mobile).”[6]
[1] Jeremiah 29:5,7 (NIV)
[2] It’s worth noting though, that these people’s familiarity with Jesus in many cases became a stumbling block to them embracing who he really was. His immediacy was a scandal. See, for example, ….
[3] Holt, 77.
[4] Just as many people stay in a house of their own for many years without ever really putting down roots.
[5] To borrow a term from Stanley Hauerwas.
[6] Wilson-Hartgrove, 43.
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Hi Wayne
Good article. Thank you.