A Dwelling Place for God

A sermon by Currie Burris

Mark 6: 30-34; Ephesians 2: 11-22

July 23, 2006

            We were sitting on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the beach a few yards below us, the great sea waves crashing against the rocks and the sand. Behind us was a long grassy meadow, some sheep and cattle grazing, with rock outcrops and trees here and there. Still further to the south was the great Abbey, the ancient monastery church which lay in ruins for many centuries, and now is rebuilt and a center of worship and is still a place of holiness and spirit.

We were on Iona, a small island off the west coast of Scotland. More than pretty or picturesque, Iona is place referred to by Celtic Christians, as a “thin place.” A thin place. It is place where the distance between heaven and earth appears to have become very small. Thin. A place the ordinary and the holy overlap. Thin places are where the earthbound veil momentarily lifts and we behold God, experience the presence of the one in whom we live all the time anyway, a special place where God lives.        

On Iona, we felt that special presence of God. It is a place permeable with the divine. I feel that same way about other places in the world. The wilderness of northern New Mexico, near the Presbyterian Conference center called Ghost Ranch. I went hiking there in May. The big blue sky, the high desert mesas, the pinion pine and juniper trees, the sculpted arroyos, soaring hawks, scampering lizards, the afternoon storms, the blistering noonday sun, it all combined to feel like a thin place, a place where God lives, a holy place.

We just returned from holiday at the beach. Again the crashing waves, the sun, the sand, the limitless sky, the wind in my face, the water on my body, it all called me into the presence of God, the nourishing, rejuvenating, transforming presence of God.

Jesus called to his disciples, “Come with me by yourselves to a place where we can be alone and get some rest.” Responding to the press of the crowds who were coming and going to them so much that they didn’t even have time to eat, Jesus is counseling them to get away, to find a place where they can rest. Many times in his own life, Jesus sought to get away, to go out to the wilderness. But it was not just to a place to physically rest. That can be done in your bed or your house. Jesus went out to the wilderness to pray, to find a place where God dwelled, to find a holy place, to be where God is.

We know of course that there is no place where God is not. There is no God forsaken place. As the psalmist says, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” (Ps 139)

Yet though God is always with us, no matter where we are, we don’t always feel it. Stress, fatigue, the everyday pressures of life, anger, bitterness, guilt, sadness, grief and loss, all combine to put distance between us and God. God is here; but we push him away. That’s why Jesus counsels us to come away to a quiet place, away from work and pressure, away from grief and loss, away from anger and emptiness, and find a place of rest, a place where God is.

            The Sabbath is such a place of rest. The Sabbath is a day of rest, a day for resting in God. We gather here in this place and there is much activity on Sunday mornings. There is singing and praying, reading, greeting, rejoicing and reflecting, listening and meditating, but there is very little that we do here in worship service that is productive or essential, as the world would define it. We are here relaxing, resting, simply enjoying being with each other and with God. We Christians believe that Sunday worship is a foretaste of eternity when we shall have nothing better to do but to rest from our labors, to relax and to enjoy being in the presence of God. “Our destiny, in God’s hands, is rest—sabbath rest forever.” (Willimon)

            We are in the wilderness here. Despite the wood and the glass, the sound system and organ, we are in the place away, the place where God dwells. Yet we all know that sometimes it doesn’t always feel that way. I don’t sense the dwelling place of God. I don’t mean the quality of the worship service, the beauty of the liturgy or the power of the preaching. It’s something else.

There are many who have walked the shores of Iona and see nothing but a pretty little island. Many who pass through the high desert of New Mexico feel only tired and weather beaten. Many who walk the beaches or hike the mountains and never feel in the presence of the divine. The difference is not the place. The difference is the heart. The difference is how open we are to receiving the blessing of God’s presence in our lives. As the psalmist says, God is always here. God is always present with us, God is always surrounding us with love and grace and beauty.

Moreover, God is actively trying to make his presence known, to reach out to you and to me and become a part of our lives, to fill our lives, to strengthen, heal and forgive. “Here I am!” says God in the Book of Revelation, “I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” (Rev. 3:20) God is not waiting for an invitation to become part of your lives. God actively seeking us, knocking on the door of our hearts, calling out our names. It’s up to us to open the door and let him in.

Paul in his letter to the Ephesians begins in chapter one and two with this wonderful summary statement of all that God has done for us in Christ. It is a long, almost ecstatic song of God’s love and grace. He talks about all those who have felt shut out, excluded, isolated and cut off from God, those who have never known the shining presence of God. But in Christ, that separation, that alienation, that aloneness and emptiness is healed. In Christ we are no longer on our own, but he is with us. And more than that, in Christ God has come to make a home with us. In union with Christ, we are being built into the dwelling place of God. (Ephesians 2:22)

Open the door of your heart to Christ and God will come and make a dwelling place within you. As the old gospel hymn says:

“If you are tired of the load of your sin, let Jesus come into your heart.

If you desire a new life to begin, let Jesus come into your heart.

If it’s for purity you sigh, let Jesus come into your heart.

Fountains of cleansing are flowing near by, let Jesus come into your heart.”

In Christ, you are the dwelling place of God. Wherever you go, whatever you do, whatever pressures and grieves surround you, the holy presence of God is within. On the beach, in the desert, on the streets or on the job, the thin place is right here. The holy dwelling place of God is within you.

Praise be to God. Amen