Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal editor, who was murdered in Pakistan seemed to have a knack for finding home no matter where he went. The book that was published after his death was called: "At Home in the World," and is a collection of his articles written about his travels around the world. He was able to see a story in the everyday lives of people … he wrote of the missing paper-maiche statue of Col. Sanders, the Kentucky Fried Chicken founder, to the story of the football sized rug being woven in Iran. His wife said of him, he truly made himself at home in the world no matter where he went.

One of our hymns ends with the question: "How do your children say home?" This is one of those hymn lines that often gets stuck in the ipod of my brain … running over and over again … how do your children say home? It's a question that I believe we find ourselves wrestling with over and over and then over again throughout life. We tend to think of homesickness as a young child's predicament. But, it's not really, is it? We find ourselves going through some variation of being home sick each time we move, or someone moves away, or we experience a major change. We want the assurance of place and belonging … that someone is there for us. We want a home.

To be at home … to find a place. In our gospel text this morning, two families struggle with life and death issues, they long for home and place, and in their struggle they seek out Jesus. Mark's gospel starts the story of these two families by telling about a synagogue leader. Jairus comes to Jesus begging for his daughter's health. Jesus begins making his way towards the girl. As he does so, Mark abruptly shifts into to a different person: "Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years." For twelve years this unnamed woman had been without place, without home in her society because of her illness. Imagine her sense of desperation in wanting a place to belong. This woman, so used to going unseen, doesn't even try to rate an audience with Jesus to ask for healing. Instead she fights her way through the crowd simply to be able to touch his clothing … she is convinced that is all it will take. She is correct in that … Jesus senses what has happened and stops the procession to find this woman. He says to her: "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease." While this is going on, we find messengers are reporting that the young girl Jesus is going to heal has died. It is a harshly delivered message, given to Jairus, but meant for Jesus to overhear: "Don't bother Jesus any longer … your daughter has died while he spent time with this no-name, no-place woman. Jesus has more to do and say about this matter, and proceeds to the home, where the young girl is also wakened from her sickness.

As we gather today there are two things I hope you take "home" from this gospel story. First, there is a place for you. Jesus calls us to home and love and restoration … no matter who you are, no matter if you are well known, not known at all … in the love of God you have a home. We struggle so hard to find that on our own, or to fill our lives with things that might bring us satisfaction. No where is that struggle so visible to me than in the commercials we produce. They promise so much, yet even if we could buy everything offered, we would not find ourselves satisfied. God created us for love and to be in relationship with God and one another and in the life and example of Jesus we find a way for that to happen. It is in that love that we are offered healing and restoration. What that looks like for each one of us is different, how it happens is not always how we expect it … .but I do know that when we reach out in faith God comes to us with hope and healing … we find ourselves at home, truly at home. Jesus offers us wholeness and healing beyond what we can imagine. It may different than what our limited human imagination pictures, but whole, nonetheless in God's love. For example: The story of Mary Verghese is told in the book, Take My Hands. Mary was an promising medical student when she was severely crippled in an accident that left her only able to move her arms and head. She believed that God could still use her and became interested in treating leper patients. She became expert in reconstructing hands and feet and faces, the type of surgery than can be done from a wheelchair, something she never would have found herself doing had her life gone as she had planned. The world may label her as crippled, but in God's love, Mary was and is a healed, whole person. (link)

This story also calls us to be (as all gospels stories call us) the presence of Christ in the world. Here we are called to make a home, a place for others. In the gospel, Jesus "sees" both the wealthy synagogue leader who knew his place in society, as well as the woman who knew she had no place in society. And so we are called. It is easy enough to include those like us, and to make them welcome. I think we get to practice with such people … to develop loving others in the name of Jesus so that it becomes a habit. Then we get to take that habit to the invisible, the difficult, the uncomfortable, and the excluded.

We celebrate with those that have found a home here this morning as they present their children for baptism and as they join our family. In that celebration we remember the love of God that has healed us and given us a place and home. And we also remember that as we have been found by Jesus and given home and healing so we are sent … particularly to find those who aren't noticed by the world, those who find the world and difficult and lonely place, those who are most "homesick."