Where the Sword Drops
In Hungarian culture, the Turul is a sword-carrying mythological bird of prey symbolizing the founding of nation. Legend has it that the original Magyars followed the Turul to the area of present-day Hungary and decided to settle in the region after they witnessed the Turul drop its sword near the bank of the Danube where the city of Budapest would eventually be established.
Several Turul monuments exist in Hungary today. Among the most prominent is the Turul statue perched upon the summit of the Gerecse Mountains in the former mining city of Tatabánya, 55 kilometers west of the Budapest. The statue is visible from the main highway leading into Budapest, and I have seen it from a distance the dozen or so times I have traveled east toward the capital.
Last weekend, the little hiking club that has formed in my village traveled to Tatabánya to hike in the Gerecse Mountains, which gave me the opportunity to finally see the monument up close. The hike itself was splendid. The trees here are sprouting, but the new leaves have yet to cast the forest floor in shade, which allows the young shoots, plants, and flowers to emerge and cover the forest floor in a fresh and comforting velvety green.
It took a little over two hours to reach the crest upon which the Turul monument sits. During the hike, my mind sank into a peaceful and contemplative mode of unthinking-thinking. Rather than consciously forcing myself to think certain thoughts, I granted my thinking room to wander -- or more correctly, room to settle -- on the sights and sounds of the forest as I passed through it.
The Turul monument itself is rather impressive, but given the current state of the world, it left no deep impression on me as a national or historical symbol of Hungary.
Nevertheless, on the train ride home I found myself thinking a great deal about the Turul bird dropping its sword as an indication of having arrived at the homeland or, more generally, at the place to be.
I was born in the United States, spent a great deal of my life in Canada, later lived and worked in the US again, and moved to the northeast of England for a short time. I have lived in Hungary, which is the country of my heritage, since 2015. Like the ancient Magyars, I have spent most of my life wandering in search of a homeland. Though I had not actively followed a massive bird of prey carrying a sword, I realized that I had always been waiting for a sword to drop somewhere in this world to indicate the place for me to "be".
Well, it appears the sword has indeed dropped. My current personal circumstances and the place in which I find myself have become home. I will wander no more. But the dropped sword has little to do with grand historical notions of nation or culture and everything to do with small personal notions of place and relationships. Whatever I have left to learn in this life will be learned in the place I am now.
When my life in this world ends, I will wait for Christ to pick up the sword. The place in which He chooses to drop it will indicate my eternal homeland -- the place I truly yearn to "be".
Several Turul monuments exist in Hungary today. Among the most prominent is the Turul statue perched upon the summit of the Gerecse Mountains in the former mining city of Tatabánya, 55 kilometers west of the Budapest. The statue is visible from the main highway leading into Budapest, and I have seen it from a distance the dozen or so times I have traveled east toward the capital.
Last weekend, the little hiking club that has formed in my village traveled to Tatabánya to hike in the Gerecse Mountains, which gave me the opportunity to finally see the monument up close. The hike itself was splendid. The trees here are sprouting, but the new leaves have yet to cast the forest floor in shade, which allows the young shoots, plants, and flowers to emerge and cover the forest floor in a fresh and comforting velvety green.
It took a little over two hours to reach the crest upon which the Turul monument sits. During the hike, my mind sank into a peaceful and contemplative mode of unthinking-thinking. Rather than consciously forcing myself to think certain thoughts, I granted my thinking room to wander -- or more correctly, room to settle -- on the sights and sounds of the forest as I passed through it. The Turul monument itself is rather impressive, but given the current state of the world, it left no deep impression on me as a national or historical symbol of Hungary.
Nevertheless, on the train ride home I found myself thinking a great deal about the Turul bird dropping its sword as an indication of having arrived at the homeland or, more generally, at the place to be.I was born in the United States, spent a great deal of my life in Canada, later lived and worked in the US again, and moved to the northeast of England for a short time. I have lived in Hungary, which is the country of my heritage, since 2015. Like the ancient Magyars, I have spent most of my life wandering in search of a homeland. Though I had not actively followed a massive bird of prey carrying a sword, I realized that I had always been waiting for a sword to drop somewhere in this world to indicate the place for me to "be".
Well, it appears the sword has indeed dropped. My current personal circumstances and the place in which I find myself have become home. I will wander no more. But the dropped sword has little to do with grand historical notions of nation or culture and everything to do with small personal notions of place and relationships. Whatever I have left to learn in this life will be learned in the place I am now.
When my life in this world ends, I will wait for Christ to pick up the sword. The place in which He chooses to drop it will indicate my eternal homeland -- the place I truly yearn to "be".
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