As musician and singer Alexander Vertinsky later recalled, all he could think of as his ship docked safely in the port of Constantinople was the unwanted exile to come: “All the palm trees, all the sunrises, all the sunsets of the world, everything that I saw and admired, I would give for a single, cloudy, rainy, tearful day in my homeland.” No matter how beautiful and soothing the port city was for the tired and famished Russians escaping the wrath of the Bolshevik revolutionaries, that longing for home was deeply rooted in their hearts.

What sets human beings apart from all the other creatures on earth is that we all have a homeland, or at least ardently long for one. While many creatures return to the ‘home’ where they were born to repeat the cycle of reproduction of their species, we have a deeper sense of longing to another kind of homeland.

In no small way is this longing more visible than on the faces of those who choose or are sometimes forced out of their homeland into exile. Having had a fair share of time away from our island, I know how much the human heart longs for that familiar, consoling and regenerating place.

And yet, even when we are surrounded by all that is familiar to us, that longing never ceases. A sense of dissatisfaction that something or someone is missing never does not leave us. Simply put, we define ourselves by the homeland we long for; that often inarticulate reality which configures most closely to our deepest desires.

In our homeland, we get as close as we can to that deep sense of peace

For Odysseus, it was Ithaca: “Ithaca is my home. Even in my days of youth it was my cherished home. Now I’m simply trying to return.” For the psalmist, standing at the door of the Lord’s house felt more like home than dwelling in the luxurious tents of the wicked. For the prodigal son, home was the hard and shameful way back to the father’s house who greeted him as if he had never left.

Another stark difference between animals and human beings is that our homeland changes over time. We are thrown or sometimes put ourselves into exile with respect to what we were used to; we change course and seek new pastures.

Like Abraham, who is given the curious if not tragic invitation to leave his homeland to reach a new home, “one what I [the Lord] will show you”. While we are creatures with an innate sense of belonging, this sense of belonging evolves until we yearn for things that are deeper, more enduring and meaningful.

We do not really long for chambers made of stone; if anything, we build chambers so that they are filled by people whom we call partners, friends, brethren who give us a sense that we belong. No homeland is perfect or free from the messiness that is life, but in our homeland, we get as close as we can to that deep sense of peace.

Life shows us that that peace is worth a thousand exiles, until we find rest, belonging and a deep desire to continue the journey. Blessed are those who are “simply trying to return home”.

 

alexanderzammit@gmail.com