journeys-page

My Dad entered St. Paul School of Theology in Kansas City when I was 12 years old. Up until then, home was our two story farm house on the hill just above the Albion Country Club. Home included the Karges and Sons Dairy Farm that I roamed from sun-up to sun-down as soon as I was big enough for Mom to let me pack a jar of water in my back-pack and head for the dam at the edge of our property. There were loads of great frogs hiding in the cow hoove prints in the mud around that pond. Since then, for me, there has been no permanent place to go home to. If you’re like me, you’ve got several homes. And home becomes more about the people you’re with than the place where you put your head down to sleep. I’ve joked that our two Husker season football tickets that we’ve had since 1993 are home for me. Those two 18 inch seats in section 19 at Memorial Stadium are a part of what defines me. Then there’s Disneyworld. Folks know that our Karges family is crazy about Disney world. But most don’t know how that all started. When our kids were little, we’d driven down to Disneyworld from Charleston, SC a couple times. Then my Duke Divinity School roomate Dale and his wife Kelly had a tornado destroy Kelly’s church on Palm Sunday in Alabama. Their daughter Hannah was one of several who were killed in that church that day. Two weeks before then, we’d lost our baby Luke as he was being born when we were pastors in Ainsworth, NE. Later that year, our two families met at Disneyworld and let a couple Mylar balloons go during the fireworks at the Magic Kingdom in memory of Hannah and Luke. And Disney became another home for us; home to our grief; a place where we could let go and be a little happy watching our other kids have fun at a time when we didn’t know if we’d ever smile again. Then there’s church. I call the Albion United Methodist Church my home church. Mom and Dad sang in the choir. Us Karges boys sat with Grandma Karges in her pew as her friends passed us three boys gum and mints and paper and pencils to keep us occupied. I also call the Doniphan and Rosedale UMCs my home churches. It’s where Dad was pastor while I was in high school. Mom and Dad did the Doniphan UMYF group. Actually, every church I’ve ever been a part of has felt a little bit like home. It really is true. Home is where your heart is. So is Trinity church one of your home places? Before all this pandemic stuff, did Saturday night or Sunday morning include that little twinge of excitement as you got ready to head up to the church and see your friends that sit near you in your pew? Did you anticipate your soul being touched by the music, the sermon, the prayer time, or coffee and cookies afterward in the gathering place? Did just being there, seeing the marvelous stain glass windows make you feel at home; settle the dust of your soul from a hectic week of life? These days, we are not able to gather in our home church place like usual for worship and learning and community. I don’t know about you, but I’m missing that church home feeling. These days, eight or nine of us gather at the front of the Trinity sanctuary on Sundays at 10 a.m. to lead the live-streamed worship so that you at home can see and hear some semblance of your worship home church. It’s not the same. I’ve already mentioned how weird it is to preach to an empty sanctuary, knowing that behind those cameras, you’re there watching and listening. This Sunday, we will be doing virtual communion. Asking you at home to gather some juice and some kind of bread and we’ll participate in this ancient Christian family meal together, virtually. It is a way that God’s heart touches our hearts. This pandemic will not last forever. We will be able to come back to this home church place again sometime soon. Until then, know that God’s heart is there where your heart is, no matter where we are, as we worship together. I’ll see you on Sunday.