I came across a children’s book written by a Rabbi that is entitled, “Where Does God Live?” Have you ever thought about where God lives? What kind of house would be suitable for the creator of the world to live?
King David was thinking about this very question in our Old Testament reading. Notice how our scripture reading begins. “Now when the king was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, “See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.”
David is feeling settled and satisfied in his luxurious house so it makes sense for God to have a nice house as well. Nathan agrees and gives David the green light to proceed forward.
But just before David even had time to go to his Zillow app and start searching for the nicest houses on the market or contact a local builder, that very next morning, the Lord tells Nathan “thanks, but not thanks.” The mobile tabernacle home where the Lord has been residing for the past several years is more than adequate. So this leads us to ask the question, “Why doesn’t God want to live in a nicer house?”
Well, as they say about real estate. It’s all about location, location, location. The tabernacle in which God was living was transportable. The Israelites took the tabernacle wherever they went. This God likes to be on the move. This God doesn’t seem all that interested in settling down in one specific place.
I think this is something that we have discovered during the long global pandemic. We have this wonderful church building, not to mention substantial renovations that we made just a few years ago. But for over a year, for many of us, our homes became God’s new address. Our kitchen tables were transformed into sanctuary altars every Sunday morning. Yes, God still resided at 2 S. College Street, but we needed to set another place for God at the kitchen table or make room for God in our living rooms as we worshiped in our homes.
People ask me what I’ve learned during this long pandemic and I believe that we have been reminded that with or without a church building we are still the church because God is with us wherever we may be. When our church building burnt down in 1955, that was another time when the people of our church were reminded that God was still with them.
God was with them at Memorial Auditorium on the OU campus where they worshipped for the next three years before our current church building was completed. God doesn’t just have one address. God lives in multiple locations, even at the same time!
And then I think back to when our church was founded back in 1800. We didn’t even have a church building until fifteen years later. For those first fifteen years, somebody’s log cabin was God’s address on Sunday mornings.
If God was listed in the white pages, there wouldn’t be enough room to list all of the places where God lives because God is present wherever the people of God are able to gather and worship together. That’s a lot of dwelling places! This is why I say that the pandemic was a reminder of how we are still the church with or without a church building.
Sometimes, we can focus so much on a church building that we forget that God isn’t tied to a building with a steeple on top. When we fall in love with a building or equate the building with God, we develop what some church consultants refer to as an “edifice complex.”
Early in my ministry, I served on staff at a church in which the youth group was not allowed to use one of the rooms in the church because that room was too nice for them to use. This room had the really nice furniture, the expensive coffee table, the nice book shelves, the plush carpet.
Since I was the youth pastor, I suggested that they just turn that space into a museum room that had signs that read, “Don’t Touch.” The youth were eventually allowed to use that room.
I will be the first person to say how much I love this building. I love the simplicity and beauty of our sanctuary. I love our tall steeple. Love the large meeting rooms and our spacious kitchen. There is a lot to love about our building. But Lord have mercy, if I should ever elevate this space over the One for whom this space was created.
It was understandable that David wanted to build God a great big house to live. And that great big Temple did eventually get built by Solomon, David’s son. It would become a gathering point for people to worship. Having a physical space for people to gather is so important as we were reminded during this long pandemic but it didn’t stop us from being the church.
I wonder if our Old Testament reading this morning is here to remind us that as important as it may be to have this wonderful space to gather as a congregation, it’s even more important to remember that God isn’t contained within these walls. God isn’t confined to our physical space. God is always on the move, calling us to recognize God’s presence wherever we may be.
This past February, I watched the movie, Nomadland. It won the Golden Globe best motion picture of the year. I’ll try not to give away the main plot, but it’s a movie about people who downsize by selling their houses and buying a conversion van where they can live, travel and become nomads on wheels.
What struck me most about this movie was in how the people who did this became a community where they shared their resources and found lasting relationships. One of the advantages of this lifestyle is that they are free to travel to wherever they’d like to go.
There’s a scene in this movie that has stayed with me. The main character in the movie is Fern, a woman who had lost her job and whose husband had recently died. She sells what little she has, buys a van and travels out west to places where she can find seasonal work.
A friend invites her to become part of a community of people who are also nomads. The people are really nice and they help her to develop survival skills for the road and they become her friends.
Early in the movie just after she started to live in her van, Fern runs into a family she knows while shopping at a Walmart. This was before she left town. The woman who heard that she was now living in her van is concerned about her. In this scene, she asks Fern, “Are you still doing the van thing? We’re worried about you.” And Fern tells her to not worry about her and that she’s fine.
And then this woman’s school age daughter who she had tutored came up to Fern to say, “Hi.” And she says, “My mom said that you’re homeless.” And Fern reassures her by saying, “I’m just houseless, not homeless. It’s not the same thing, right?”
That moment in the movie stood out for me and I was reminded of it when I started preparing this sermon. Fern chose to do the van thing. And God was choosing to keep doing the tabernacle thing. God didn’t need a Temple. God wanted something more mobile in which to reside.
I wonder if God was telling David, “I’m not homeless. Just houseless. It’s not the same thing, right?”
Sometimes we want to have a place for God to live but we forget that God can’t be contained in one location. God shows up in places that we don’t expect. Yes, we expect to meet God in a sanctuary on a Sunday morning, but we also meet God in so many other places, too.
Like out on the front sidewalk as we give away water bottles to college students. Like at the hospital when we deliver flowers to the patients and hospital staff. Like at the assisted living facility where we provide a worship service and get to know the residents. Like where we work and go to school and share a little of our faith with others. God is in all of these places.
There is a wonderful Irish blessing that reminds us of God’s traveling ways. It goes like this:
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
We have a traveling faith where God is with us wherever we go.
There is a little twist to our Old Testament reading that I think is worth mentioning. David wanted to build a house for God, but God tells David that he is going to build a house for him, not a house of cedar which David already had, but a house that will establish David’s kingdom forever.
That promise was fulfilled centuries after David through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the long awaited Messiah. Jesus, who was born in a stable because there was no room in the inn. Jesus, the traveling rabbi who once told someone who wanted to follow him, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
This God who doesn’t have a primary address isn’t confined to one place. Maybe we should think of our church building more as a base of operations for kingdom work than as a permanent address for God. We encounter the living God whenever we gather in this place, but then we are sent into our community to encounter the living God wherever we go.
Where does God live? And maybe the best way to answer that question is, God isn’t homeless. Just houseless. It’s not the same thing, right?
Where Does God Live?
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
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