My dear friend, is it not nonsense to talk about man being at home in the world? For on this blue dot, his life is but misery. Only one thing is certain for him and that his death. Yes surely he may dance late into the night and entertain himself with gold and clowns, but his end is still the same. He shall die. Let us not be as fools that stoop low to kiss the ground, and let us not be as fools who continue to jump in hope to reach beyond the sky. We are fixed on the floor of this dome and like our very first memories we shall be nothing at all. On this side of paradise there is little comfort at all, and on the other side of paradise there shall no comfort be. So what then is a man's existence? To what end should we live our lives? If suicide be no option, for in most men there is a will to live, what then to make of our lives! My hands are up in the air my friend. Let each man live according to his deluded conscience. Let him live as he pleases but let him know, that consequences and eventually death shall meet him without care.
I agree with you my friend that it is nonsense to talk about man being at home in the world. But I must qualify it a little. Indeed a man who has no virtue in his heart, that believes that no immortality (of the soul) exist, and no absolutes, as in goodness and righteousness, then this world is everything his home. But to the man who has a longing for justice and for every wrong made right one day, then it is nonsense to talk about such a man being at home in this world. For this material world offers him no consolation for the fulfilling of his dreams. On this side of paradise there is no comfort at all; but on that other side of paradise, or as my Vicar friend makes it, that when the earth is made anew, the good man, yes the born-again man shall find his home in this world, on that other side of paradise.