Dear Saints

 

Dear Saints,

 

“Where are you staying?” This is a question we hear in John’s gospel this Epiphany season, to which Jesus: “Come and see.” It is a question we encounter again in Psalm 27 when the psalmist asks to “dwell” in the house of the Lord. And then again the notion appears in the reading from Isaiah, when light shines on “those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness.” So, this season, I ask you: Where are you staying? Where are you dwelling? Our answer may rely on many factors. For some of us, we may be literally staying somewhere away from home – whether by our own choosing, or by circumstances outside our control. For others of us, we may be very much at home, choosing to stay in a place that provides shelter from the storms that swirl around us. For others still, we may be moving through our normal routines, but we find our minds are somewhere else entirely.

 

In a cold and dreary season, amidst a turbulent political climate, in the face of illness or setbacks or worries about the future, it’s good to pause and ask ourselves where we are dwelling. I have always found the request in Psalm 27 a little funny. The psalmist asks “one thing,” which is, “that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” Of course, as a pastor, I love to be in the house of the Lord. I love to be in our church sanctuary, and I take joy in visiting other houses of worship. Just recently, Pastor Kris and I passed a wonderful Friday evening worshiping at the Jewish synagogue for their MLK Jr. weekend service. All that being said, I don’t want to live there. I don’t want to stay in the sanctuary “all the days of my life.” In fact, if I had to live there, entering the sacred space probably wouldn’t feel very special anymore. Perhaps Psalm 27 was written by someone who did live in the Temple complex, someone who really liked it there. However, for the rest of us, perhaps there is another meaning we can take from this verse.

 

The idea came to me when one of my daughters overheard Kris talking about the destruction of the Temple in 70AD. She reflected on the impact of that event, and she commented: “If God is everywhere, then you don’t really need a Temple anyway.” Not wanting to debate the emotional and psychological injury suffered by the people of God surrounding this devastating event in Jewish history, I simply smiled and gave her a hug. She had, after all, picked up on a central message Jesus would impart to his followers, a message that the people of Israel had already come to terms with during the Exile and subsequent diaspora. Her reflection was absolutely correct. Although being in the house of God is sacred, we can experience God everywhere. We can “dwell in the house of the Lord” no matter where we are.

 

This season, whether we are far from home, whether we feel grounded at home, or whether we feel like we’re on another planet altogether, let’s remember that we can dwell with God. We can ask God to make his presence known wherever we are. We can ask the Spirit to surround us with peace wherever we go. We can ask Jesus to take our hand and guide us through whatever we are going through. The answer to the question, “where are you staying,” isn’t about a particular place, it’s about following Jesus. And when we ask him where our path goes next, his answer is: “Come and see.”