Who Is Your Storm Home?
Ruth 1 | Ecclesiastes 4:9-12, Luke 3:1-6
This morning, we listen to the beautiful passage from the Hebrew Scriptures from the book of Ruth. We might wonder why we are reading it this morning as we journey through the Advent Season. It is a meaningful reminder that to be a follower of Christ, to be a Christian means that we are connected to a community much bigger than ourselves and that we are not alone. We journey together; we walk side by side; we choose to be family to those who need companionship, strength, love and support. We choose to be love and peace to a world in need and to one another. We walk together and we draw hope and comfort from one another. We share companionship which is an essential part of being human. Many years before Joseph and Mary found themselves traveling to Bethlehem for the census, Ruth and Naomi would also travel to that same small town to build a new home together. Let us pray, O Prince of Peace, we are waiting for you in these days of Advent. May you find your way into our hearts once again and into our world. Amen.
Some of you likely enjoyed listening to the Prairie Home Companion when it aired on PBS for many years. On one of the programs, the host Garrison Keillor told the story about what he called his “storm home.” Keillor was entering the seventh grade and the principle, Mr. Detman, was fearful of a winter blizzard that would strand the students. So he assigned each student from the country a “storm home” in town near the school. If a blizzard struck, each child was to go to his or her storm home.
Keillor says: “Mine was the Kloeckls.” This was a kindly old couple who lived in a little green cottage down by the lake, with everything so neat and delicate . . . It looked like the kind of home that if you were a child lost in a dark forest and suddenly came upon it in a clearing, you would know that you were lucky to be in a story with a happy ending.” His Storm Home became very big in his imagination. He said that he often found himself day dreaming about going to the Kloechls when things got difficult.
Keillor said he imagined “the Kloeckls had personally chosen me as their storm child because they liked me. ‘Him,’ they had told Mr. Detman. ‘In the event of a blizzard, we want him! The skinny one over there.’” No blizzard came during the school hours that year. “But,” Keillor explains, “blizzards aren’t the only storms and not the worst by any means. But if the worst should come, I always knew I could go to the Kloeckls and knock on their door.” Mrs. Kloeckl would open it up and say, “Ah, it’s you, our storm child. Come on in, won’t you?” And then she would shout to her husband, “Honey, come and see who’s here in our kitchen.” In a deep voice Mr. Kloeckl would answer back, “Is it our storm child?” And she would answer, “Yes.”
Then smiling at Garrison she would say, “Oh, the weather is just terrible outside, isn’t it?” And she’d heat up some milk in a pan on the stove to fix some hot chocolate. Keillor says that he never actually had occasion to go to the Kloeckl’s cottage. But the idea was a source of reassurance as he went through his junior high — the idea of a safe, loving place that was always there if he needed it.
Not all storms are connected to the weather that may dump a ton of snow or flood us with water. Some storms are emotional. Or relational. Or spiritual. There are storms of depression. Temptation. Worry. Sickness. Stress. And death of loved ones. These storms can leave us feeling stranded. Alone. And without protection. They cause us to feel vulnerable and sometimes frightened. We all need a “storm home,” don’t we?
We might look around this church and wonder if we would have had the opportunity to meet one another if not for our common connection here. And imagine how blessed we have been by one another. It was only a few weeks ago when we heard from some of you about how important it has been to have the support of folks here as people navigate serious health challenges. I was reminded of how you have been a ‘storm home’ to one other and of how others in our lives have been a storm home to us during especially stormy times.
One of life’s most essential lessons is that we are never meant to go alone. As John Dunne once wrote, “No man is an island…” We know that in the last few decades we have witnessed a decline of the sense of community which can mean so much for people, has taken a real toll on too many. We need one another. We are connected in so many important ways and despite any of our limitations, it makes a real difference in our lives to know that we have others who care about us. Studies show that people who are connected socially live longer and lead healthier lives, and that makes so much sense, doesn’t it. If we have a reason to get up in the morning, if there are people looking forward to seeing us or with whom we look forward to spending time, it gives us purpose and it reminds us, as I shared last week, that we are beloved. We are precious. We all need that reminder from time to time.
We know that If Ruth had followed the cultural norms of her day, she would have gone home to her family of origin after her husband died, but instead, she makes an important decision, one made from love and true commitment, to stay by the side of her mother-in-law, Naomi. Together they form a new family and covenant. Ruth and Naomi travel together to Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest. Mary and Joseph would also one day find themselves traveling this same route to be counted in the census. Both Ruth and Naomi as well as Mary and Joseph choose to travel together, to share the journey, to support one another under difficult circumstances and that makes all the difference. We know that God often brings us together with just the right companions and amazing things come from those relationships. Certainly the disciples Jesus chose came from varied backgrounds and I imagine didn’t always get along, and yet, together they became his companions, his brothers, and later the messengers of his Word out to the world.
The second week of Advent focuses our thoughts on peace. I believe that on the hardest days of our lives, it means a lot when we have friends and family who show up and stay with us through the dark moments. There is a measure of peace that may come from companionship, from knowing that we are not alone. And, if we can collect ourselves during times when anxiety or despair take hold, we can remember that our God is there holding us too, yearning for us to know peace once again. We pray for the miracle of peace to be found again in places where peace seems absolutely impossible. We pray for peace among those who have resisted peace for so long.
The season of Advent whispers an ancient truth: We were never meant to journey these paths alone. We know that this time of year leaves some feeling especially lonely or disconnected and so we might remember that this season also offers us ways to reach out and to connect with others…—to reach out to those who may be grieving, to invite the lonely into our homes and hearts, and to show that in God’s family, no one has to face their sorrows alone. What would it look like to create some deeper connections in this season by inviting others into more substantial conversations and perhaps by sharing our own messy, holy, and complicated lives?
The wisdom of Ecclesiastes reminds us, “Two are better than one
. . . for if they fall, one will lift up the other.” I hope that by journeying together, we may see the reflection of the Holy One who chose to come among us to share in our humanity and to remind us that we need each other. Come, O long awaited Prince of Peace.
Resources: A Sanctified Art, Kayla Craig