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I was just five years old when Saturday Night Live first aired, and this week they celebrated their 50th anniversary. Fifty years! That’s a lot of “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!”

I still remember being seven or eight, absolutely determined to stay up late enough to watch SNL. In my mind, staying up until 11:30 was the ultimate sign of being grown-up. It’s funny now to think about how big of a deal that was to me.

And the weird thing is—I never really stopped watching. Well, except for the time I lived in Europe. But through college, seminary, and all of life’s ups and downs, SNL was always there. Some weeks, I’d laugh until my stomach hurt. Other times, I’d sit there wondering, Why am I still watching this? But somehow, I kept coming back.

The anniversary special ended with Paul McCartney at the piano, playing Golden Slumbers.There’s something about that song that just gets me. McCartney found the lyrics in an old book of lullabies at his father’s house. He couldn’t read the original music, so he wrote his own melody instead:

“Once there was a way to get back homeward…
Sleep pretty darling, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.”

 

And that’s when it hit me—maybe that’s what SNL has been for me all these years. A little piece of home. A familiar thread in the midst of change. A way to laugh, even when life is heavy.

And you know what? I think faith is kind of like that, too. When McCartney sings about finding our way home, I think about all the places that feel like home to me. SNL might be one of them, sure. But more than that, it’s walking into church on a Sunday morning. It’s the sound of footsteps in the sanctuary, the glow of stained glass, the quiet peace of knowing I belong.

Sometimes, it’s the little things—the late-night comedy shows, the Sunday morning traditions—that hold us together. They remind us who we are. They remind us where we belong.

So yeah, I’ll probably be watching SNL again next Saturday night, remembering that little kid who thought staying up late was the greatest achievement in life. And I’ll be in church on Sunday morning, grateful for all the ways—big and small—that God keeps calling us home.  See you Sunday!

Peace, Pastor Tracy