The haggard stranger seemed to have drifted into town out of nowhere. He was rough looking, with no endearing features. His face was etched with sorrow as if the weight of the world rested heavily on his shoulders. Yet there was something about him which hinted at a treasure hidden deep inside the man’s outer shell.

‘Homecoming’ was etched on the front of his well-worn cowboy hat. There was no beautiful calligraphy, no colorful background, just a stark row of letters.
As people passed by the man, they stared at his appearance. He made it a point to make eye contact with everyone who crossed his path. But his gaze was unsettling; his eyes peered into the depths and hidden recesses of their souls. That painful exposure provoked emotions in them that had not seen the light of day in a long, long time.

One day he went to the outskirts of town and began to assemble a large tent. He set the stakes and began erecting the structure. Many of the townspeople came just to see what this foolish man was doing. At least it was an interesting distraction to their monotonous daily lives. He strung a giant banner over the entrance to the tent:           
         “HOMECOMING: AN INVITATION”

The townspeople were intrigued; the disheveled stranger began passing out flyers announcing the opening of the event. This event would occur on the coming Saturday at 3 pm. People began talking among themselves. Who would schedule something for 3 o’clock in the afternoon on a weekend? They had things to do, activities scheduled, and there were so many better opportunities available. Why would anyone want to go to the edge of town to listen to this strange outsider? The mayor of the town was indignant. "Why this vagabond hasn’t even applied for a permit. Who does he think he is? Does he really think anyone would walk to the outskirts of our town to sit down on a dirt floor to hear some kind of crazy message? There are no refreshments, no comfortable chairs, no sound system.”

On the afternoon of this unique occasion quite a few townspeople actually showed up. Most of them came out of curiosity or because they simply didn’t have anything better to do that afternoon. As they passed under the banner and entered the tent they felt a vague, indistinct tug on a place deep inside their hearts. It was a Presence that seemed distantly familiar but undefinable. Each of them got the impression that there was something important which they had forgotten. But what was it?

The stranger walked through the doorway dressed in the same unkempt outfit he had been wearing ever since he first appeared in their town. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in over a week, his hair was unbrushed and his boots were caked in mud. But he walked with a quiet confidence towards the middle of the tent and invited everyone to sit down on the floor. He began to speak. “I’ve come to invite you back home!” Some of the audience thought to themselves, ‘What does this wandering vagabond know about home? He’s the one who is homeless.’ Motioning upwards towards the top of the tent he said, “Your birthplace, your mother country, your native land is beyond the stars!” 

One of the people in the crowd muttered, “I was born right in this town thirty-three years ago. My mother was born here and her father and mother before her.” The stranger said, “On the surface that’s true. But this place is not your home. I have come to show you the truth about your true selves. I have come to invite you Home.”

Some people began to get up and walk out. One of them shouted,, “You must be crazy! Look around you. We are the ones who know where our home is. You are the one who is homeless; a destitute drifter. Undoubtedly a vagabond seeking to prey on our citizens. Why, you’re like a pied piper trying to get any simple-minded soul to follow you on a ridiculous journey. How could you even know what a home looks like?”

Then this outspoken critic motioned to all of the audience, “Let’s get out of here! I can watch a 'Ted Talk' and learn more from the comfort of my own home. Look at the way this fellow is dressed; anyone with any sense at all would make a better presentation than this fool. Look around you! What do you expect to learn from a destitute stranger who holds meetings on a dirt covered floor in a tent that looks like a strong wind could blow it over?”

The stranger began to speak with a firm but gentle voice; “What did you feel when you first stepped through the entryway to the tent? Do you remember? I am here to call you Home. Everything you see with your physical eyes is just a piece, a hint of a bigger reality. Your True Home is unseen without spiritual eyes. Stay and listen!”

The outspoken townsperson yelled loudly, “Let’s get out of here!” Motioning to the people in the tent he continued, “Are you coming with me or not? Leave this fool to himself. We all know our way home; besides it will be suppertime soon. Go back to your homes and eat a good meal and then relax. We are the ones who have homes. Our dwellings are back down the street. They are furnished with tables, chairs, beds and kitchens. If there really was a true messenger telling us about a Home beyond the stars, don’t you think his arrival would be more dramatic? Where’s the UFO, the flashing lights, and media coverage? This is all a big joke; let’s go home!”

Soon the stranger was left with just a few scattered souls. He motioned for them to come closer. “The Presence which you felt when you first entered the tent is My Presence.” As they looked at the unknown stranger with uncombed hair, scruffy beard, and untidy clothes, they noticed a change coming from deep inside him. There was a deep satisfying fragrance that permeated the room. As they inhaled the intoxicating aroma, the stranger’s outer shell was slowly engulfed with a luminescence that showered their souls with pure, indescribable light. 

“I am The Way Home. Listen to me and become a member of your true family.” These words resonated deep inside their hearts. They began sipping then drinking more deeply of this wonderful, ecstatic elixir which awakened the realization that they had walked around all their lives as parched, thirsty souls. A new awareness was aroused. They realized how incredibly thirsty they were. They had always been grasping for some unknown 'thing' that would never satisfy their deepest longing. Each of their eyes began to glow with a new light enabling them to see that they were the ones living on a dusty floor in the middle of a tattered old tent. The emptiness which surrounded them and had captivated their hearts was hollow and sparse. They had been living in a vacuum which was devoid of true life. They had been aimlessly wandering around thirsty and hungry for things which the world around them could never satisfy. 

“Welcome Home!” the glowing figure proclaimed. Each of the fortunate ones who had remained, found this warm, wonderful Presence was now burning deep inside their hearts. Don’t miss the real Christmas this year. Don’t settle for anything less than taking the time to humbly sit on the dirt floor of an obscure stable in front of a baby lying in a manger. Take the time to listen to ‘glad tidings of great joy’ and drink deeply!

“He came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognize him. He came to his own people, and even they rejected him. But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God. So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness.. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son.”               
John 1: 10-14