I never really considered Jesus having a home as an adult. I suppose mostly I believe this because of the Scripture where it says that the Son of Man has no place to lay his head. Twice this week though, I have come across this passage from Mark that says he was at home. The first time was while reading Fr. Martin’s book Jesus and today it was the Gospel of the day. Home….Jesus had a home as an adult–or at least a place where he could call home. The thought made me smile.
The translations are various–as are the interpretations. Was he simply in a house, visiting with people who were family, or like family? That seems to be the most common belief. Still, the thought of Jesus having a safe place to crash is comforting to me. Whether that was with Lazarus and his sisters or with other friends, Jesus had a refuge. He certainly was not there long before the crowds arrived and before a small group of people starting tearing at the roof in order to ensure that their friend was healed by the miracle worker.
What was it like for Jesus to sink into a favourite chair, to drink a cup of tea in the silence of four walls, to stare out a window and watch the sun sparkle on the scenery? Our homes are often the place we can totally relax. The other day I had plans that were canceled because of a blizzard that caused havoc in the city. I could hardly see across the river and the skyscrapers were not visible. I chose to hunker down and spend the day quietly at home. It was such a blessing! I spent some of it in prayer, as Jesus must have when he was home.
I am not yet settled in my new space. After some interruptions and delays, I am slowly unpacking still. I do enjoy living here. I like being able to walk to many places nearby. I sleep well at night. I love how the light changes during the day and how at dusk the buildings out my front window seem to glow. I have already entertained more in these three and a bit months than I did in my entire time at my former residence which was not hard to do since I rarely had people in. I like sharing a cup of tea and a conversation with people. My home is a blessing to me.
I try to imagine Jesus in the quiet of his home, chatting intently with a friend, throwing his head back in laughter, brushing away tears, listening compassionately, and feeling relaxed in a space that is familiar. The images come quite easy actually. In the hidden life contemplation of the Spiritual Exercises, I often sat with Jesus in his parents’ home. The warmth and love that filled those rooms were vivid. I am glad that the Son of Man did have places to lay his head that brought him calmness and comfort. I can only imagine what Home is like then on the other side of this veil and how spectacular that must be.
What image of home do you have for Jesus as an adult?
How does your home feed your soul?
Home is where the heart is, Jesus, and your heart must have been a residing place for so many people when you walked the earth. I am glad that you are divinely human and can offer us a glimpse of what our lives can be like too, because you have similar experiences. Thank you, Jesus, for becoming one of us. Amen.