It's a Great Day for ... Heaven?
A few days ago, I had a bad case of homesickness.
I was missing my parishioners. Names and faces came to mind, bringing anxiety over how they were doing, hoping that so-and-so found a job and such-and-such’s health was better. Since I spend more time with my staff than anyone else, their absence was also strongly felt. The people at my parish are my family, so to be away from them is to be separated from family.
I was missing my culture. The language barrier in Italy has been much higher than I expected, and, combined with traveling by myself, it is easy to experience the isolation of having no one else to depend on. Plus, when you are in an unfamiliar place and culture, anything you do requires more effort and attention and can, therefore, sometimes be exhausting.
Heck, a weird and unexpected part of me was even missing conveniences like Chick-fil-A (less than my parishioners, just so we’re clear).
A wave of emotion washed over me as I longed to be home with the people I love, the places I’m comfortable with, and my familiar way of life.
At that time when my longing for home was at its greatest, I had a powerful moment where I experienced Jesus asking me, “Do you have that same longing for heaven?”
Yikes!
I was convicted.
It was less of a question and more of a revelation of something amiss in my heart.
Brutal honesty forced me to confess that I longed more for the comforts of home than my Eternal Heavenly Homeland.
Home vs. Heaven?
As Catholics, we tend to talk about heaven only in passing. Yes, we hope to eventually find ourselves there, but mainly because the other option is unappealing. Or we don’t talk about it much because we assume we and most everyone else will get there (even though Jesus says quite the opposite, but that’s a topic for another article). Regardless, we see heaven as less of an issue here and now and more of a topic for some later time.
Yet our entire life is meant to be lived as a pilgrim, not a resident. We weren’t created to be comfortable in this world; we can’t find fulfillment here. If God is our Father then heaven is our home, and we should be unrelentingly dissatisfied with everything this world offers.
We cause many problems for ourselves when we try to find fulfillment in the things of this world - usually power, pleasure, wealth, or honor. Once we taste them, we eventually find ourselves unsatisfied and needing more. That’s what addiction is - we become addicted to the world. Finally, at the end of our lives, we find ourselves empty, broken, and hopeless.
When we are addicted to this world, our eyes will never be fixed on heaven.
After the initial joy of returning home wears off, I will sit in the rectory, feeling like there is something more.
There is.
That feeling, that dissatisfaction with what sits before me, is a gift from God to remind me where my home really is.
With the holy season of Easter having just concluded, I am deciding to intentionally lean into the grace of longing for heaven by doing a couple of things; maybe you’d like to join me:
1) Ask for the grace: Our Father wants us to see heaven as our home while deeply desiring it. We will give Him great joy by asking for the grace to be dissatisfied with this world and to desire only heaven.
2) Make acts of voluntary self-denial: If we seek comfort in the world, we will be increasingly attached to the world. Detachment is a defining quality of the saints. Fasting, of course, is the practice par excellence in this regard. But our self-denial can take additional forms: Parking further away than we have to; skipping dessert (or 2nd dessert); having your coffee black instead of with cream or sugar. The critical part is whatever we do is 1) Intentional, 2) Motivated by a love for God, 3) With a desire to grow in detachment.
While I’m still looking forward to seeing my parishioners and having a Chick-fil-A sandwich (not necessarily in that order), even when I’m home, I won’t be home. And for that, I am grateful.