Sunday, December 18, 2011

god builds us a home in christ, advent 4

"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.' Nathan said to the king, 'Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you.'

But that same night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, 'Why have you not built me a house of cedar?' Now therefore thus you shall say to my servant David: Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and I have been with you wherever you went, and have cut off all your enemies from before you; and I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place, and be disturbed no more; and evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel; and I will give you rest from all your enemies. Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever."

- 2 Samuel 7:1-11,16

As we’ve moved through advent, nativity sets have come out.  We each have our own special place for the nativity set, whether it’s on a table in the living room, on the mantle, or by the front window.  Each year as advent begins, the pieces come out from their boxes where they have been kept safe: out of reach of children and pets.  And so, as the assembly begins, the sheep and the cows find their place under the shelter of the small stable, the shepherds are to the side with the sheep.  The magi, or kings, balance out the shepherds on the other side with their three gifts.   

The manger is, of course, front and center with its nice clean hay ready to hold the savior of the world.  Then the family appears around the manger, with the young, beautiful Mary, full of life with rosy cheeks appearing to have had the easiest time giving birth in all of history and handsome young, bearded, Joseph, with his arm lovingly wrapped around Mary gazing expectantly at the manger.   

And, finally, Jesus.  The sweet, little, close to a year-old-looking, baby, wrapped in nice, clean cloth, with his thick blond hair, blue eyed head peeking out, arms extended.



Advent is one of the best times to recognize our need to make God in our image.  So often in Christmas stories and movies and even in many nativity sets we find a Jesus made to look like many Northern European Lutheran ancestors. 

When we come up with images for Jesus, do we imagine someone from the Middle East?  Do we imagine Jesus in terms of dark, olive skin, rough, curly hair?  Or do we still imagine Jesus with blue eyes and blond hair?  The same can be said for how we think about Jesus’ titles.  Do we call him Savior?  King?  Friend?  Companion or Lord?  Christ?  What about Judge?  Decider?  Rebel?  Radical?




In today’s reading, David wants to build a house for God, a place for God to permanently dwell.  Now, maybe David’s intentions are pure, responding to God’s love and protection by building God a house…

But somehow, I think his intentions are probably not quite so pure, I know mine usually aren’t as pure as I would like them to be. 



By building a house for God, David would be constraining or limiting God; domesticating God, if you will.  He would be making God’s dwelling permanent, limiting the dynamic, transcending, and perhaps transient nature of God. 

I have to admit, I can relate to David’s desire to domesticate God.  I use words that are helpful in talking about God, like God is good and loving, and does good things, but those words are never.     quite.     enough.    because God is bigger than we could ever imagine. 


God’s ways are not our ways and so we are able to perceive only in part who God is and how God is.  God is so much more than I could ever imagine!  It’s like the Mercy Me song, “I can only imagine.”  I have no idea what it could possibly be like to be fully in the presence of God!  I have no idea what I will do, not to mention I have absolutely no clue what God will do, say, think, or even be!  



Thinking too much about the mystery of God can get pretty intimidating, especially with all of the examples in the Bible of God being angry or of God’s justice being understood as something to fear.  I want God to be my little pet that’s warm and furry and waits around all day until I come home and then loves and comforts me. 

That would be a pretty easy God to handle and then I’d know that God was always with me.  God would be in my house, waiting for me to get home and protecting me and my family.  Nice and safe.



But that’s not really what I want.  I want and, more importantly, I need a God who is not like me.        I mess up.       I am a sinner and I know that my good intentions can oftentimes be totally misguided, so what a blessing it is that God is not just like me!  I want a God who cares about others and not just about me.  I need a God who refuses to be domesticated!



So David wants to domesticate God, but then God steps in, asking “Do you actually think you can build me a house??  I haven’t lived in a house for all this time since I rescued my people from Egypt and I still don’t live in a house!  A tent, a temporary, movable dwelling has been fine for me all this time, why should it be any different now?  In all of my wandering with my people, have I ever complained??  Have I ever asked why y’all haven’t built me a house of cedar?”

God steps in, rebuffing David’s grand plan, and asks who David thinks is in control.  Who is David to build a house for God?  Who says God even needs a house??  It’s as if God is saying, “I don’t want to live in a fancy chapel, I’m fine in the campfire so I can dwell anywhere.”  God has been just fine in the sparks of the flame, in the dance of the smoke, in the crackling of the wood, and in the community gathered around it for all this time. 



As the Church, we understand ourselves to be the body of Christ, yet oftentimes we turn the body into a building.  We decide that the chapel where we worship is the dwelling place of God, it is: “God’s house.”  Yet in today’s reading, God tells David, and, indeed, us, that God is in no way in need of a permanent dwelling place.  God has been a wanderer with us since the Exodus.           God has no need and no desire to be confined to the building we use, we build, we choose. 

God turns the tables on this desire to honor, and perhaps control God, by restricting God’s space in our lives to a building.  God declares that God will build David a house, and God is the one who builds us a house.  God constructs a resting space for us. 

That resting space is not a rest that can be found simply in a physical space, it is a rest that goes deeper.  We come today to this physical place not to rest our feet after a long week of working or skiing or traveling, we come here to find a deeper rest, a rest for our souls, our whole beings, our life forces.

We might choose this place to meet together and we do encounter God in this place, but God encounters us everywhere!  As we gather intentionally, we get a foretaste of the deeper rest that God provides for us.  We come together to worship and praise and to receive grace abundant!  We gather at the table, common, tired people to receive the body and the blood, to receive grace and a promise of more to come.

In Christ, God has established a resting place for us and it is not in any building, yet it can be in every building.  Our house, our home, our rest is in Christ and in Christ’s body, which spans both space and time.  We are not called to build a place for God to sit, we are called into God’s house.  We are called into Christ’s body.  Our rest is to be found in Christ and in God’s rule, which lasts forever. 

God assures David with a promise, saying, “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever” (2 Sam. 7:16).  Similarly Gabriel assures Mary that she will bear the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and whose kingdom will have no end. (Luke 1:31-33). Like David and Mary, we look toward the future with Jesus to fulfill that promise.

In this Advent season, we await the coming of Christ as a small, defenseless child and we may prepare for Jesus by making a place for him in our nativity sets.  We can chose the way we make nativity sets, which ones we buy, where we put them, and we can choose how we imagine Jesus and even give him the kind of shelter that we see fit,        but Advent isn’t just about anticipating the arrival of the infant Jesus, it’s about anticipating the return of Jesus.  Advent is about awaiting Christ’s reign; eagerly looking to the time when God’s home will be everywhere and in every way.

Amen!