Genesis 47:7-12: in context

When Joseph brings his aged father Jacob before Pharaoh, the king asks him his age. Jacob's answer reflects on the whole of his life: the years of my pilgrimage are one hundred thirty; the days of the years of my life have been few and hard, and have not reached the years of my fathers in their pilgrimage. Twice Jacob calls his life a pilgrimage, a journey, a sojourn. He does not speak of his life as a settled dwelling but as a pilgrimage, a passing-through, from one who knows this world is not his lasting home.

Jacob's word for his life is worth noticing: pilgrimage. A pilgrim is one on a journey, passing through, not settled permanently but traveling toward a destination. Jacob, looking back over his long and hard life, sees it not as a permanent dwelling in this world but as a pilgrimage, a sojourn, a passing-through. This world was not his lasting home; he was a traveler in it, on the way to somewhere else. And this perspective shaped how he held his life, its hardships and its length: as the experience of a pilgrim, not a permanent resident. This pilgrim perspective is one Scripture commends to all of us. Those who live by faith, Hebrews says, confess that they are strangers and pilgrims on the earth, seeking a homeland, a better country, whose builder and maker is God. To live as a pilgrim is to hold this world lightly, knowing it is not our lasting home, to travel through it toward the destination God has prepared, rather than settling in it as though it were permanent. I am a foreigner with you, the psalmist says, a sojourner, as all my fathers were. The people of faith have always seen themselves as pilgrims, passing through this world toward their true home. This perspective changes how we hold our lives here. If this world is our permanent home, then we cling to it, invest all our hope in it, are undone when it fails us, and settle into it as though it were all there is. But if we are pilgrims, passing through toward a lasting home elsewhere, then we hold this world more lightly, endure its hardships as the experience of travelers, and set our hope on the destination rather than the journey. This is not to despise this life or to be careless in it, but to hold it as pilgrims do, with our hearts set on the home toward which we travel. This searches how we hold our lives here. Do we live as permanent residents, clinging to this world as our lasting home, or as pilgrims, passing through toward the home God has prepared? Jacob called his life a pilgrimage, a sojourn in a world that was not his lasting home; and we too are called to live as pilgrims and strangers here, holding this world lightly, enduring its hardships as travelers, and setting our hope on the better country, the lasting home, toward which our pilgrimage leads.

Do I live as a permanent resident of this world, clinging to it as my lasting home, investing all my hope in it and being undone when it fails me, or can Jacob, who called his life a pilgrimage, and the people of faith who confessed they were strangers and pilgrims seeking a better country, move me to live as a pilgrim here, holding this world lightly, enduring its hardships as a traveler, and setting my hope on the lasting home toward which my pilgrimage leads?