One of the hotly debated issues today concerns the plight of the homeless. Statistics vary dramatically; but of course homeless people are not statistics. Statistics do not live in abandoned cars or eat from dumpsters; people do.
From where have these unfortunates come? Many have fled dysfunctional home situations or, like the prodigal, have rebelled against proper restraints, thinking the dark streets of the far country a better place for their chosen life-style. Scores were released from mental health facilities as a result of pressures brought to bear by social liberals. Some are single mothers looking for alternative places to stay. Others have literally drunk or drugged themselves out of house and home.
Whatever the reasons, the situation is tragic. I’m thankful for some of the efforts to change things for the better. But “the poor ye have always with you,” and it is an endless battle.
While not wishing to minimize this tragedy, the ultimate homelessness awaits those who will not receive the Father’s invitation to join the prodigal in His House. “Wandering stars,” they will be, “to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever.” Can anyone think the thought and not shiver in his soul?
I know Someone who became “a homeless Stranger in the world His hands had made.” He understood, as no one else, the desperate plight of the truly homeless. The planet on which they lived was not their home. Ever since they had turned their backs on Eden, on God Himself–the true home of the soul–the human race had wandered, looking, looking for some place they could call home.
But they were only tenants here, and they knew it. It was just a matter of time until they would move again, this time to what Solomon dryly called their “long house.” But even that would not be home.
This Stranger had a plan so bold that no one but God could have thought of it (Rom. 11:33-36). It was a brilliant stroke but a costly one, one that would bring the Architect of the Ages into time. He, who came to make heaven the forwarding address of members of a fallen race, would be found in the morning rising from His hillside bed where His only blanket had been the starlit heavens He had made. And as His sun rose in the sky, He went about inviting any who would come to enjoy heaven’s hospitality. Amazingly, few responded.
Eventually this rebel race had enough of His telling them that the other world was waiting. Of all things, they decided to send Him back!
The night the blood-red fruit of the conspiracy came to the plucking, the Stranger gathered a few of those who had accepted the invitation to live with Him. It was then that He broke the news to them. Shocking news! They could not come with Him now. He was going on ahead (Jn. 13:33-36). What would they do?
He must go on ahead to prepare a place for them, a place where they would feel at home. This “mansion” would be a mone (pronounced mon-ay), an abiding place. They would be moving in there to stay, and it would feel like home, like no other home has felt.
Back in our newlywed days (20 years ago this month), we bought some carpet for our bedroom. The heat registers were in the floor, and, coming from a long line of frugal Scotsmen, I was reluctant to cut holes in the carpeting,. So I rolled it back to let the heat into the room. It was that way for a ridiculously long time. I thought we might take the carpet with us to our next home. But eventually I did the deed.
When we did move on to another place, we left the old carpet there. But as long as we lived there with the carpet rolled back, I guess I never really felt that it was an abiding place. In the back of my mind, I had plans to move somewhere else. It all seems silly now. But as I look back on it, I wonder if it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a few carpets rolled back somewhere in my heart, to remind me that this isn’t my final home.
In the meantime, the Lord would not leave His own as orphans. As He was getting heaven ready for them, He would, by His Spirit, be getting them ready for heaven. He would make us the home-away-from-Home for His Father and Himself! If we only would follow His simple directives, we could have these heavenly Guests feel at home there! Father, Son, and Spirit would abide (meno) with us until it was time to move to our real home. And, of course, knowing that would keep the carpets rolled back.