The Back Porch

For as long as I can remember I’ve never felt at home. I’m not sure if it’s some kind of strange insecurity or what, but I feel almost perpetually out of place. Family reunions are basically the worst, followed thereafter by sporting events, birthday parties, normal parties, and bachelorette parties. Then after that is basically any concentration of people.

There was one exception to this rule that stands out, and that was when I met the woman who would become my fiancée, and would then leave me with no questions answered. But frankly I felt at home with her. I wasn’t struggling to make a coherent sentence, or when I was it was ok. It was safe. It was trust.

I lost my home.

Several days ago I had an experience that I can only describe as totally communistic. But it’s bizarre, because it really changed my feelings about the concept of ‘home’.

I meet with a Wednesday night Bible study that largely coincides with the attendees of The Back Porch, and for a little change we decided to host our own Thanksgiving Feast. It was put on almost entirely by college students, and hosted by one of their girlfriends. (Hey Sarah, guess what. You’re a girlfriend.)

So there we were, 20 people sitting at a table that should have only held 18, and we were eating a feast that was provided by people that nobody knew could cook.

And I felt at home.

Home.

This, I think is why I’m still in Winona right now and not at a photography school in Massachusettes (although I would still have liked to get the medium format camera and digital back). All over the Bible there is mention of the importance of community. In modern terms, this has largely been interpreted as church, but I think in our language that maybe misses the whole mark. It has become common to preach about not just being a Christian on Sundays, but that too has been not wholly inclusive. It has been interpreted as simply believing in God all week and doing good things (or more accurately, not doing bad things) all week. But it still leaves out the community.

Our Thanksgiving Feast wasn’t a Bible Study, or a time to learn more about God. It was a time to be with people and to treat them as friends. It didn’t matter if everybody there believed all the stuff about God or not; they were treated as friends.

In spite of having very little discussion on “deep theological issues”, I found it to be one of the most assuring instances in my Faith that I can recall. It made me proud to be called a Christian.

But mostly, it made me feel at home.