Saint John Vianney has a marvelous quote appropriate for November, for thoughts of pilgrimage and the inevitable death that awaits each of us before we reach the final stage:
Our home is—Heaven. On earth we are like travelers staying in a hotel. When one is away, one is always thinking of going home.
Of course, there’s also the modern sensibility that the journey is the whole point of the experience–it is in the pilgrimage itself that we are tested, where we find fulfillment, and are prepared for the end of the trail.
Robert Lowry’s hymn comes to mind. I was introduced to the Charles Ives’ setting by my voice teacher almost thirty years ago. I have a version on cd sung by Dawn Upshaw with orchestral accompaniment. The original piano & vocal is here.