9
" For centuries the church, while affirming Genesis 2 and the goodness of marriage, conceded the distractions of domestic life. One medieval solution proposed to divide the “housekeeping” among the people of God. Married people would tend to “earth” while monks and nuns, who renounced marriage, would do the work of heaven, praying “for the world, in the world’s stead.”7 During the Reformation, theologians like John Calvin and Martin Luther abolished what had become a sacrosanct division between celibates and married. By developing the concept of vocation, they taught that domestic obligation could be rendered as service to God, just as prayer and fasting were forms of worship: “Everyone [was] now expected to live all their lives coram Deo; before the face of God.”8 At the most fundamental level, vocation became a Christological category—a way of baptizing the housekeeping as sacred duty performed to God in the service of one’s neighbor. "
― Jen Pollock Michel , Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home
11
" The biblical narrative begins and ends at home. From the Garden of Eden to the New Jerusalem we are hardwired for place and for permanence, for rest and refuge, for presence and protection. We long for home because welcome was our first gift of grace and it will be our last. The settings of our first home and our last home testify to the nature of the embodied story God is writing in human history. Because God’s story begins in a garden and ends in a city, place isn’t incidental to Christian hope, just as bodies aren’t incidental to salvation. God will resurrect our bodies, and he will—finally—bring us home. As Craig Bartholomew, author of Where Mortals Dwell, concludes, “One of the glories of being human and creaturely is to be implaced.”10 The “fortune” of home, as Homer puts it, is the witness of Genesis and of Revelation. God will never leave any of his children to homelessness. "
― Jen Pollock Michel , Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home
16
" Leadership over God's people, which functions as God's household, does not require business savvy but moral probity and relationship skill. An elder, or overseer, must be hospitable and gentle, traits most would traditionally consider as feminine qualities. He must not cede parenting responsibility to his wife but rather must be directly involved in the rearing of his children, "keeping his children submissive" (v. 4). Interesting, it is his domestic abilities, in addition to his moral qualities, which are his qualifying grounds for ministry. "
― Jen Pollock Michel , Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home
17
" They depend on daily efforts and ordinary gestures, neither is once and done. Each requires a kind of liturgy, or routine, as an anchoring weight against the hosts of disordered desires that greet us in the morning before we've put a foot to the floor: selfish ambition, acedia, megalomania, greed. The liturgies of housework and practices like daily prayer ground us in a proper estimation of ourselves -- we are creatures, not the Creator. Our quotidian routines return us to our bodies of dusk, forging humility on the anvil of repetitive motion. We can't abandon the housekeeping, either the laundry or the liturgy[...] "
― Jen Pollock Michel , Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home
18
" Instead, it is, as writes Marilynne Robinson in her essay "When I was a Child," "a regime of small kindnesses, which taken together, make the world salubrious, savory, and warm. I think of [these] acts of comfort... as precisely sacramental." Housekeeping points toward the thin places of daily life; where work, however monotonous and menial, becomes worship, witnessing to God's kingdom coming and his will being done, on earth as it is in heaven. In this sense, the effort to pour cereal and rinse clean one's bowl (even the bowl of one's neighbor) can be a spiritual practice, preparing us for greater exertion, more heroic love. "
― Jen Pollock Michel , Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home
20
" Every day struck with tsunami force, and only by running full speed did I think I could outwit the daily violence[...] But to run is eventually to run out of breath. Soon I realized that life was not ever going to slow for me -- that I would have to slow for it. Slowing, in fact, would be my only hope of living life, not simply surviving it. And so, in one of the most improbably seasons of my life, I started practicing sabbath, nudged toward the discipline of rest by Gordon Macdonald's book Ordering Your Private World. "If my private world is in order," writes MacDonald, "it will be because I have chosen to press Sabbath peace into the rush and routine of my daily life in order to find the rest God prescribed for himself and all of humanity." As the mother of three young children, I gave up, for one day of the week, the rush to get ahead. The alternative felt like death. "
― Jen Pollock Michel , Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home