The Apostle Paul, not the Beatle Paul.
I've lived in a couple of different types of homes. My first home, although I can't remember it except for small little shadows of images somewhere in the back of my mind, was a mobile home on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware. My parents and I lived there for about two years until my brother was born, and then we moved into a one-story rancher in New Jersey. The house belonged to my great-grandparents before my parents bought it, and it is in that house that my parents and sister still live to this day. There was a brief period in 1993 when I lived in a two-story house with my parents, brother, and grandparents. Being in a two-story house is a lot different from being in a small rancher. We did that for about three or four months while our house underwent some major repairs following a house fire.
After high school graduation, I began life in a dorm. Even dorms come in different styles. My first dorm was a small room with no air conditioning, though we did have heat. I shared the room with another girl and we had community style bathrooms that was shared between the forty girls on the floor. My senior dorm was much nicer, with carpet and temperature control and defined separation between my side and my roommate's side. In the senior dorms, I only had to share a bathroom with my roommate, which was much easier when it came to coordinating shower schedules. In seminary, it was back to community style bathrooms, but I didn't have a roommate, so that was a plus.
Now I live in a one-level two-bedroom apartment by myself. I have neighbors around me, but I'm pretty much on my own in my adult life.
Each of us has experienced a kind of home, whether it's in a small farmhouse cottage, a one-story-rancher, a city row house, or a huge mansion with more space than you could ever want. Some people make their home on the city streets under bridges and in alleys. We all try to do the best we can with what we've been given, for the most part.
It's easy to identify what kind of a home certain creatures live in. I recently watched an episode of Barney (the purple dinosaur, yes...stop judging me! Okay. I'll pause while you laugh. Okay, that's enough.) and they were talking about different kinds of homes that animals live in. Birds live in nests, fish live under the sea, dogs have dog houses, etc.
It's a lot harder for us to say what kind of house God lives in.
Think about that for a second. Where does God live? If you ask a child where God lives, you get all kinds of creative answers: "In the sky" "Up in Heaven" etc. Our concept of where God lives is what I call a tangible abstract: We don't know what it looks like (hence the abstraction) but we come up with a concrete answer that we can get our heads around (that's the tangible).
Does God really live anywhere?
In biblical history, God lived in the temple. At least, that's what the Israelites thought. When David wanted to build a house for God in 2 Samuel 7, the prophet Nathan speaks on God's behalf: Did God ever ask to have a house made of cedar? No. Up to that point, God lived in the tabernacle, a big mobile tent and the symbolic nature of the tent was the idea that it could be moved: God could go wherever the Israelites went, regardless of what land they occupied. Granted, God follows in the next breath by saying that one of King David's offspring will build God's temple. When Solomon oversees the temple (I can't bring myself to say that Solomon built it because the reality is that Solomon didn't actually get his hands dirty...that's what slaves were for.) construction in 2 Kings, he declares before the people, "Will God indeed dwell here on the earth? Even the heaven and the highest heavens cannot contain you much less this house that I have built." Solomon got that God didn't dwell in the temple. God's presence could be in the temple and his eye could be over the temple, but God wasn't going to actually set up shop in the temple.
But the Israelites can't get their head around that. God lives in the temple. Period. Where the temple is, God will be also. That's what the Assyrians and Babylonians were counting on when they conquered them. Take the people away from the their land and their temple, you take them away from the God, leaving them godless and, hopefully, easier to subdue. And then in Ezekiel 10, God's glory leaves the temple not only because bad things were going on in the temple, but because God cannot be contained in a temple. There is no corner of the world where God's creation can go to get away from God. Wherever we are, God sees. Whatever we do, God sees.
Which brings me to Paul. In I Corinthians 3, Paul reminds the people of Corinth that Christ is their sure foundation and the work they do as a community of faith must be done with materials strong enough to build on that foundation. A time will come, Paul says, when the materials that weren't done with Christ in mind as the foundation will burn away and turn to ash. But the materials that were done with Christ in mind as the foundation will survive and the builders' rewards will be great.
But still, this does not mean that God lives in a house. This builder bit is a metaphor. A figure of speech. Like "water under the bridge."
Pauls says in verse 16, "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's spirit dwells in you?" Many of us can remember that little ditty from our early Sunday school years: "I am the church, you are the church, and we are the church together." I firmly believe that to be true. God dwells in each of us individually, but the body of Christ really thrives when we come together corporately. God is in me, God is in you, and God is even in the people you might not expect to be a dwelling place of the Spirit of the living God. As temples of God, it is our calling in life to discern whether or not the materials we are using to build on the foundation of Christ are solid materials, or wood that is rotting away.
If you act with Christ as your guide, and do everything with the Spirit of Christ in mind, those materials will be solid. If you act with hate or chaos in your heart, if there is deceit and malice, those materials will rot away and the building will not continue to stand. That foundation is solid, but it's our calling as Christians to make sure that we are building up the walls so that when God puts on the roof at the end of days, we have a structure that God can say, "Well done, good and faithful servants."
Is it easy? Eh. Depends on how you look at it. It takes work, for sure. That's why community is so important. But it's worth it. In all that we do, whether in word or in deed, let us do it all in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, giving thanks to the Father who is through him.
Happy building!
Peace,
Pastor Becki
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