"Going home to Rome."
I find the oft used expression and image of the Roman church as "home" (for all western Christians) to be both overly romantic and errant.
As Lutheran Christians we descend from the western branch of the family tree, this is true. However, as is true with any branch there is a point of departure which naturally separates it from other branches even while all the branches are nourished via the same root system.
The Lutheran Church(es) and the Roman Church share a common point of divergence in the mid-second millenium. Neither of these (or for that matter any others) exist exactly the same as the church which existed at the time of separation (nor as that of any other previous point), that is to say none of us own an exclusive claim upon any point in the trunk. What is more, all of us have reformed (been pruned) in some measure and all of us have grown in new directions.
There is no "home" to return to.
Such an expression suggests that one branch has a greater claim upon the roots than another. I believe that if necessary (and it isn't) we can make a pretty persuasive case, that the Lutheran Church has as great a claim if not a better one to the family "home" as any other descendants--even that body which claims the family surname of Catholic as its own. Going "home" to Rome, speaks a language that recognizes only patrilineal descent, as if the modern Roman Church is descended from an only elder son, while the rest of us from younger daughters with lesser inheritances.
Certainly we all have our notions of what represents "health" in any particular branch, but these judgments are best made in humility, with an eye primarily toward our own health, and prayers that the vinedresser will be as gentle with the others as we trust he will be with us.
I prefer the image of the family tree that I have drawn upon which maintains that there are divergences in the life of the Church, but not true separations.
The "home" image is based more on the notion of family and households, but in using this we should be clear that in this model, we should not confuse structure with relationships. While Jesus does us the image of a house of many rooms, scripture also gives us the images of a city, or even an entire kingdom as the nature of the dwelling place of people of God.
If compelled to speak in the language of households, I would point out that no family maintains a single home over many generations, let alone millenia. What descendants share is a heritage, not a home. In our divergent expressions, not all aspects of the heritage are preserved, nor should they be. Some aspects were unhealthy; not all are well-suited to all times and all places. We may from time to time enjoy family reunions, share well-wishes, engage in common endeavors, but we are not and cannot be of one home.
Once we leave the botanical image we may move into the animal kingdom of living people as a more apt image but there the image is not homes, but heritage (DNA and traits), passed on and shared, but there is no "going home" in that construct. In the world of homes (families), each generation establishes for itself a new home, an idea present in scripture. The child must leave father and mother, carrying with it much to be sure, but taking on much from other families and sources as well. If the goal of our life of faith is to go "home" we must be careful lest we find ourselves taking up residence, living in the past, with our forebears in the cemetery, for that is where they now dwell, not in the family home.
Thus in the image of "home" understood as family, we can hope and pray for continued relationships and even in the long line of generations expect that there would be eventual intermarriages of the descendants and reintegration of many part of the original family genome, but we must also understand that we cannot go home again, even while we may treasure much that we were given there.
I still own our family home, but when I go there it is very much changed. Many of the artfacts are still there, all of the memories are still there, but it is a lonely place--for the family that lived there lives there no more. My home is elsewhere, as it should be. Eventhough I live alone, where I live now is a living home, that other place, in spite of all of my sentimental attachment to it, is just a house.
