A man’s house is his castle, and domus sua cuique is tutissimum refugee [and each man’s house is his safest refuge].
This was established as a common law by lawyer and politician Sir Edward Coke at The Institutes of the Laws of England, 1628. This has meant different things to different people over the centuries, but generally speaking, it means that a person can do whatever they want within the confines of their own home without interference from agents and/or strangers Our homes are places of refuge from the pressures of the outside world This is the place where the nuclear family feels safe and protected from those around us This is our retirement after a hard day’s work. This is our oasis amid the stress of the fast pace of our modern world. And security. It’s protection. It’s a shrine He’s home.
- Shortly after my baptism.
- I moved into the attic of a couple named Bernard and Joan.
- Who lived near the church where I had converted.
- Were about 50 years old and their children had already left home.
- Had nowhere to go and they opened the house for me.
- They didn’t really know me.
- All they knew about me was that he had just been edused out of jail for several violent rapes and that he had been a drug addict and drug dealer.
- They knew I’d been a liar and a thief.
- They knew I hadn’t worked at Known that I had been an angry.
- Aggressive and discreetly retracted person (most of the time).
- They knew I had lived on and off the street for years.
- However.
- Despite their doubts.
- They opened their house to me.
- Leaving me some space.
Although I did not know it at the time, this place turned out to be more than an attic, it has become my home. They became my family. At first I was suspicious, paranoid and unsure of their motives, why would they let me into your house? They didn’t know me. What did they want? How did they benefit? (It couldn’t be money, because I didn’t have it) Do you want me? I would like? Would they have deported me for no reason? (I was so scared that I didn’t unpack for months and slept on the floor next to the bed so as not to feel very comfortable. ) I hid in this room for hours. And I crawled so it wouldn’t make any noise He would bring food to the attic and eat alone, listening to laughter and conversation at the dining room table as guests joined them for meals (they always called me to join them and I always refused, very embarrassed to sit with strangers and their friends).
After several months, I began to relax (and so did they). It all started when I met them for breakfast. Just a small bowl of cereal. It was over in five minutes and the conversation was short, almost monosyllabic. It progressed to a bowl of soup at lunchtime and maybe some prayer conversations. Then a simple dinner and a fun story told. It quickly turned into questions about my day (I had recently enrolled in college for grades). When I realized that they were asking for genuine interest and were not trying to “get” me, I became more forthcoming. They showed me how to cook a meal, how to use a washing machine, how to take care of my finances, and a hundred other little things. I learned to help out at home (when asked) and sat at the table with the family and talked about my day and the things of the Lord. When did I get angry? and have I stayed often? They made me sit up and face my sins (which I hated to do). Today I would call it “managing our heart problems. ” But it was good for me. I grew up learning only to be angry and never consider the reasons for my emotions.
I realized that I was no longer asked, but invited to spend a family holiday. Well, I said “call, ” but it was more of an order: “Are you coming with us?” they told me. No argument. No weighting. I had become a member of the family without realizing it, I spent less and less time locked in my room and increasingly sitting at this dinner table, participating in family conversations, I even learned to play board games, which I had only done. Sometimes in my childhood I learned to find joy and pleasure in the little things of life, I had never been in a house like this. I had never experienced anything like this, although I was very reluctant, I began to love this thing that impressed me deeply and changed me forever. I wanted a life like this, I wanted to sit with my own family around my own little table, I wanted a house full of smiles. I wanted my own house.
But, everything could have been so different if I had made another decision on a sunny day, without spending much time with this family. I remember, after a few months in my faith, the overwhelming feeling of just wanting to get out and back on the streets. I wanted my old way of life. I missed him, I felt like I was losing my true self as I wandered this path to Christianity, hated having to make the right choices. I always hated having to think about what I said before I spoke; I hated having to apologize when I said or did something wrong (which was often the case); I hated having to rub shoulders with middle-class people all the time with their little conversations. I wanted to get back on the street. I almost became convinced that the previous life was better than the previous self was happier; But it wasn’t. He was unhappy, alone, dark and depressed.
The real problem was that I didn’t like to know what to do, I didn’t like having to explain my actions when I sinned against someone else, he told me that he loved my freedom, but the reality was that he loved my sin. He loved a life where he did what he wanted, when and how he wanted to. I liked the feeling of being rude to people just because I could be rude. I loved being my own “boss”, although all these things made me feel deeply unhappy He liked the lack of responsibility. And I’d blame everyone for all the evils of my life.
On a sunny afternoon, I sat and banged on the wall in the backyard, wondering if I should stay or go. No one was home; they were all working. I could pack my bags and leave in silence. An express train to another city and I could leave it all behind and start over. I looked at this house and in that moment I knew that if I left my life was going to end. There would be no going back. A life of crime awaited me. A lifetime of inputs and outputs in the chain. A life back on drugs and a constant involvement in confusion. Although it seems stupid to say that now, it was still tempting. It was always better than a lifetime to be nice, read the Bible, go to church, sit down to eat, and talk about my feelings. There would be no more family. There would be no more jokes around the table. My dream of a house would disappear with me. So I stayed. I fought my personal demons and my incredible ability to screw things up. I chose, at least for me at the time, the most difficult path. I went home and never looked back. I was never tempted to go back to the streets again. For the next four years, this place was my home, which saw me go to college, to seminary until my marriage to Miriam.
When I was a kid, I played at school. Has it always been anyone?Whose task was to catch someone else and? Transmit it the same task. As soon as Miriam and I managed to acquire our first home, we realized that we were “the only ones”. Our task was to “find someone else”. What was the task ?, was the kindness and hospitality of this couple of strangers who, in the end, showed me a better life, have the actions of this couple, for almost 20 years, been passed on to many young people?of the men and women who have shared our home and family life over the years. What they did, intentionally or not, was for me a model of what a Christian home should look like. Didn’t you invite me to lunch on a Sunday? And what they did changed me forever.
People often come to visit our apartment and meet some of the people who live with us. We have had many people with us over the years, men and women. Young and old. We had a person with a serious mental illness, we had a very violent person. We already had drug addicts and alcoholics, we’ve had criminals in large numbers. Why are you doing this? That’s always the question, followed by this: “Aren’t you worried about your daughters?”(I have two daughters). Of course, sometimes I care about my daughters, all the parents are worried.
For Biblical reasons? Not really. I mean, there is no biblical imperative to invite strangers into your home to share your life. Of course, there is the question of hospitality. But I think what a lot of us are doing here at Niddrie goes beyond that. Some people think we do it for the money (my wife and I find this a lot of fun). We do this because we can. We do this because we want to. We are doing this because 20 years ago an elderly couple from the church broke with their worldview and comfortable life and allowed me to enter their home. They gave me more than a bed and a meal. They made me a member of the family. We do this because we have seen that those who remain in Christian homes in the early years of their faith are much more likely to remain strong in the long run than to return to their former lives (with sad exceptions, of course). We do this because we are especially happy to share what we have with those who have nothing. We do this because discipleship is more than an exchange of information; is sharing all life. We do this because we really want people to keep walking with Jesus. Do we want them to see what a Christian family is like in real life? including difficulties, arguments, sin, laughter, joy, repentance, and love.
Sooner or later, each of our guests will have their own “backyard” moment. Always happens. They go out to smoke and are tempted never to return. Some went to buy something? And they never came back. Some left and came back when they realized their mistake. Some went through that moment and stayed. Those who stayed, without exception, continue their journey with Jesus, they become better parents. Better fathers / mothers / sons / daughters: They learn the value of a life of sacrifice. They also learn to “transmit. “
Christians have a responsibility to pass on the stick of good news, but I firmly believe that we must also pass on the stick of good works. I don’t want my children to see the Christian life as a set of beliefs and participation in formal services. I want you to realize that it affects our whole life. Sharing our home and our lives has helped shape and disciple my daughters. They see up close the ravages of lives ruined by vile and unholy choices. See how expensive Christian discipleship is. They challenge the people at our table about their sins. They face their own critical attitude. They see the confusion and failures of life when people go astray. They see the reality of the Christian life and not just the “polished” Sunday version. They feel the pain of a loved guest or family member who returns to their sin for no reason. Do they also learn that one day they will have this task? and will have to “transmit”. I recently went out to eat with Miriam and our daughters. Just the four of us. “Okay, dad,” said one of them. “Just us together?” The other added in the air: “Yes, but I like the madness of our house. ” Someday I hope to have a house like this. Where can sad people come in and feel part of the family? The other thinks for a second about what was said: “Me too. “
Our houses are not ours. Our lives are not ours, when will we realize?What did Jesus say we would gain if we left everything for Him?People need to hear about Jesus’ love and live The Love Life of Jesus.
There is a remarkably poignant scene at the end of the film, Schindler’s List, when Schindler realizes that the end of the war has come and that he is desperately saddened that he has not done more for the Jews. He was no longer selling. He didn’t change his watch to save another life. I wonder if many of us will feel the same when the end of life comes. When we realize the insignificance of what we leave behind, the glory of what we enter, and the terror that awaits the lost. I wonder if we feel more than sorry that we were able to do more with what we had during our short time on earth. The question is not “How can we do these things?”, But “How can we not do them?” If this life is not all there is, then what is truly ours must have little meaning. If Christianity is true, then perhaps we should hold onto our wealth less firmly than we thought. Sharing our lives and our homes shouldn’t be just one? Model? that we follow. It must be what we are. It has to be what we do.
You?
By: Mez McConnell. © 20 diagrams. Website: 20schemes. com. Translated with permission. Source: Why you should let strangers stay home.
Original: Why you should receive strangers in your home, let’© return to the gospel. Website: voltemosaoevangelho. com. All rights reserved. Translation: Camila Rebeca Teixeira. Review: William Teixeira.