It feels like home to me
It feels like home to me
It feels like I’m all the way back where
I come from
It feels like home to me
It feels like home to me
Feels like I’m all the way back where I belongChantal Kreviazuk
This was the song (sung by Linda Ronstadt) that played in my head when I attended St. Elizabeth of Hungary church in Seabrook, NH for mass while on vacation at Hampton Beach. It was the same song that had come to mind years ago when a friend said she felt at home after I had invited her to a recitation of the rosary at our parish.
“Familiarity breeds contempt.”
This common saying plays out over and over when I attend mass, whether it’s hearing 1 Corinthians 13 proclaimed for the umpteenth time, or witnessing the bread and wine blessed and broken before communion. I always feel guilty when that contempt creeps into my worship but it’s hard to ignore. Repetition does that. I can only imagine how the priest must feel with that temptation to tune out because the words and rituals are so familiar.
Being away from all that was familiar taught me that such sameness has an upside; one that I need to recall whenever the temptation to tune out comes to mind.
At home while away
A change of scenery is a healthy thing in that it refreshes the spirit; one is relieved of the monotony of the daily routine. Yet, at the same time, there is that feeling of being at home, that comfort and security of familiarity that I miss when I’m away. One of the reasons why I loved our motel room was because it had a full kitchen making it possible to enjoy the pleasant aspects of our morning routine. The motel was nestled in a neighborhood so that when I went outside, I saw homes rather than tourist attractions. I talked to the neighbors. I felt like I belonged there.
I had that same feeling of security and comfort upon entering St. Elizabeth’s. It was one of the highlights of the vacation for me to worship there. I even recognized the same lector and cantor from the previous year when we had attended. It made me smile.
The Church as home
This is the beauty of the Catholic Church to me. No matter where you are in the world, no matter what church you enter, you will have the mass. The language may be foreign and the hymns unfamiliar, but the Word of God is still proclaimed. I can still receive the Holy Eucharist. The congregation is there to worship the one God. I can count on that routine and participate as if I were in my home parish. I have an immediate connection to the community.
In its wisdom the Church established such rituals and routines not to add a burden but rather, to address our needs. Those familiar hymns and readings along with the Eucharist deepen the beauty of a wedding and offer comfort during the funeral mass. Notice that when Jesus taught the people, he used common everyday moments and elements in his parables; those who were truly listening would connect those concrete symbols to the deeper spiritual meaning. Our Lord understood how the familiar can open up the heart and soul to his message of love.
Coming prepared
It is these things I will remember the next time I am tempted to tune out at the liturgy because I am hearing 1 Corinthians 13 yet again. To remain mindful of that temptation, I will need to prepare beforehand by asking God to open my heart and keep it supple. Then perhaps I will know enough to whisper a quick prayer to the Holy Spirit as I enter the church so that I can be enveloped in the beauty of those familiar words and rituals.
Here is “Feels Like Home to Me” sung by Linda Ronstadt. Listen and think about the Masses you’ve attended while away from home. How did you feel?
From the Catholic Free Press, August 11, 2017, and Catholicmom.com.
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In this wonderful podcast known as Among Women, Pat Gohn and I discuss the themes of my book, 
And thus was born 
Jill Pickford is not only a marvelous writer but a terrific illustrator. Several of the stories are graced with her simple drawings which embody the spirit of the book.
Carroll offers a brief biography of the life of St. Francis of Assisi which is helpful when reading the letters that follow. He was born around 1181, the son of a wealthy Italian cloth merchant. He was expected to follow his father into the family business but instead became a French troubadour. Eventually he chose to become a knight and joined the Fourth Crusade. That plan was thwarted the very first night by a disturbing dream which drove him back to Assisi in shame. Over the course of time he abandoned his wealth and adopted a life of poverty, caring for lepers and rebuilding the church (sometimes literally). An order of friars grew around him along with a sister community led by St. Clare of Assisi.
