My Hometown

The Denver Broncos won a BIG game yesterday.  Why is that important to me, you might ask?  The one and only reason is because Denver is my hometown!

As much as we travel in this world, and as exciting as it is to see something new, there is a definite need to have a place we call home.  The place where we feel like we have some roots.  The place, mythical as it may be, where we feel as if we are known and where we know.   Home is more than just where the heart can be found, home is where our imagination will always return.

Rooting for the Broncos is a way for me to reconnect with my story.  I remember sitting around the Living Room TV with my mom and dad cheering on the boys in blue and orange.  I can remember my dad getting so upset with a play or a referee's call that he spilt his snack all over him, the chair, and the floor beneath him.  I can remember the exhilarating excitement when the Broncos first went to the Super Bowl and the whole town was a Mile High.  It was a moment when Denver was on the map, and we were so sure that the Broncos would whip those darn Cowboys from Texas.  I remember driving from Redding, CA to Orange County in the worst fog imaginable, listening to the radio chatter until 3 AM, so filled was I with adrenaline from Elway's first Super Bowl victory that there was no fear that I would fall asleep at the wheel.  Yes, the Broncos and I go way back, because they remind me of home.

Just a little change up, but that is why I'm in church on Sunday morning (before the games).  It is like home.  When I step into church I am reminded of those awkward days when I wasn't sure I belonged, but others made me feel welcomed nonetheless.  When I see the people I've come to know and love, I am reminded of our small group meal and bible study at the Campus Ministry Center at the University of Utah when I was preparing to become a lawyer.  When I'm a part of a theological discussion it brings me back to those heady days in seminary when we would gather over a beer and pizza at LaVal's in Berkeley.  The church is more than a place or even a people; the church is the repository of my memories.  The church is like home for me.

Now nothing becomes home right away.  It took 25 years for Denver to become home.  It's taken another 35 years for the church to become home.  But there is something about having a home, and it is my hope no matter who you are or where you have been, that this place called Peace might be a home for you.

Go Broncos!  Beat the Pats!

Peace,
Pal