Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes on you. A certain set of buildings, a glimpsed, smudged window-view across a schoolyard, a musty aroma sniffed behind a garage when you were a child, all of which come crowding in upon your latter-day senses -- those are pungent things and vivid, even consoling. But to me they are also inert and nostalgic and unlikely to connect you to the real, to that essence art can sometimes achieve, which is permanence.
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Luke 5:1:
One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, the people were crowding around him and listening to the word of God.
(NIV)
NOW IT occurred that while the people pressed upon Jesus to hear the message of God, He was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret (Sea of Galilee).
(AMP)
And it came to pass, that, as the people pressed upon him to hear the word of God, he stood by the lake of Gennesaret,
(KJV)
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To judge from the notions expounded by theologians, one must conclude that God created most men simply with a view to crowding hell.
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