Tag Archives: Worship

Chapter-a-Day

Devoted to a Bread Maker

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Their land is filled with silver and gold,
    and there is no end to their treasures;
their land is filled with horses,
    and there is no end to their chariots.
Their land is filled with idols;
    they bow down to the work of their hands,
    to what their own fingers have made.
Isaiah 2:7-8 (NRSV)

Last night Wendy and I were on the couch watching the Cubs game when we were surprised by the doorbell. There was a small group of high school youth from one of our area churches who were on a “bigger or better” scavenger hunt. They had with them a stuffed snowman they had procured from a previous, unsuspecting neighbor.  “Do you have anything that’s bigger or better than this that you’d trade for it?” the young people asked.

Our basement storage room (which is quite sizable) is filled with things we are not using and may not even remember we have. So is the garage attic, and the back of the garage. The answer to the young people’s question should really be: “Yes! How many options would you like us to give you among the infinite number of boxes, totes an bins full of things we own but don’t use?”

Then, as Wendy scoured the basement storage and I scoured the garage, the more nagging question became a reality. “What thing, of all this junk I don’t use and forget I even own, am I willing to part with?” It is so intriguing to find how much value we place, not on the object itself, but on the possession of it.

We offered the excited group of young people an old bread maker I found sitting in the garage, and Wendy put our new stuffed snowman with our stack of Christmas decorations. Everyone enjoyed a laugh and we wished the young people well on their scavenger hunt. I wonder what they ended up with.

I thought about last night’s experience as I listened to the prophet Isaiah (I listened to this morning’s chapter being read as I returned from a breakfast appointment this morning) describe the neighboring nations. He described their wealth, their riches and their possessions. They made cast idols and then bowed down “to the work of their hands.”

If find that we in 21st century western culture are quick to be dismissive at the thought of idolatry as described by the ancient prophets. People bowing down to a golden calf or a statue of some animal seems so silly. But, I’m not sure I’m really willing to see the point. What is “worship” but the act of being devoted to something? And what is “devotion” but the giving of time, attention and energy to something?

“…they bow down to the work of their hands.”

How much time, energy ad attention do I devote to the acquisition, maintenance, upkeep, renovation, and storage of “the work of our hands?” Perhaps I am devoted to things made by human hands. Perhaps what was called “idolatry” in 700 B.C., I simply call “success” in a consumerist culture.

This morning I am rolling my own eyes at myself, and the discomfort I feel with the questions I’m asking myself. I don’t like asking myself, “Am I willing to part with this old bread maker sitting in my garage which hasn’t been used in years?” and acknowledging that there’s a small voice in my soul that balks at giving it up. At the same time, I am feeling really good about giving it up and having it out of my garage. Perhaps it’s a mustard seed of change.

Lord, have mercy on this poor soul that bows down to things made with hands.

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Chapter-a-Day

Perpetual Embers

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A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar; it shall not go out.
Leviticus 6:13 (NRSV)

My family vacationed at the same place every year. Camp Idlewood on Rainy Lake in Minnesota was where we spent two weeks in early August every summer. There was a campfire pit just outside the boathouse and a fire was lit every night as families gathered around to swap stories, sing songs, and enjoy each other’s company.

As childhood gave way to the tween and teen years, we were allowed to stay later and later at the campfire. Eventually the parental unit would head to bed and we were allowed to hang out at the campfire until the wee hours of the night. Occasionally the wee hours gave way to dawn and we would still be there huddled around the fire pit.

I remember those nights watching the fire evolve from blazing bonfire to glowing embers. Still, we would stoke it and tend it and keep it going through the watches of the night as conversations continued, friendships were forged, and camp romances occasionally were sparked to life and then quickly went out.

I thought about that campfire as I read this morning of the ancient sacrificial fires prescribed by God through Moses. They kept going. Wood was added. The embers were stoked. The spiritual conversation and relationship continued around the fire.

This morning I’m reminded that my worship, my sacrifice, and my offering to God is not a compartmentalized act confined to a Sunday morning. It is a campfire in my spirit which does not go out. Every day, every stretch of the journey it blazes, it ebbs, and I tend to it;  I stoke the embers into flame again and again. God and me perpetually around the fire through the watches of the night, into the wee hours, and on to the dawn.

Chapter-a-Day

A Radical Shift in Paradigm

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“We will not neglect the house of our God.”
Nehemiah 10:39 (NIV)

Over my journey I’ve worshipped in many different places. Growing up, there was a lot more emphasis that people placed on the church building itself. I still remember the Methodist church where I grew up. The area of that altar in the sanctuary was considered hallowed ground along with the “eternal light” that hung above it (which was a light bulb I’m quite sure needed to be replaced on occasion).

As I grew in my understanding as a follower of Jesus, I began to recognize that the special attachment Christians placed on their particular house of worship fell into two camps. The first camp were those who considered their local church building to be some kind of holy place that was, itself, sacred because it was a church. The other camp considered their local church special because the community of believers had built it together. It was communal space for worship and they wanted to take care of it.

In the days of Nehemiah, the temple where they worshipped was a holy place. It had been designated such by God when He gave the plans to Moses and called for its eventual construction. When Jesus came, however, the paradigm changed radically. Jesus made it clear that the times they were a changing. When confronted by the Samaritan woman at the well about where you should worship, Jesus replied, “But the time is coming—it has, in fact, come—when what you’re called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter.”

With the pouring out of Holy Spirit into the hearts of every believer, our bodies themselves became the temple. Our worship center became wherever we happen to be at any given moment. The focus shifted from bricks and mortar to flesh and blood. We may appreciate and tend to our local church building because we want to be good stewards of the communal worship space, but the church building is not hallowed in and of itself. It’s when I and my fellow believers bring Holy Spirit in with me to worship that makes it a worship center.

Today I’m thinking once again about my body being a temple of Holy Spirit, a vessel in which God dwells. It lends a more intimate meaning to the commitment made by the folks in Nehemiah’s day: “I will not neglect the house of God.”

Guess I’m working out today.

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Chapter-a-Day

Diversity, Unity, Liberty…Love

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But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.
1 Corinthians 14:40 (NIV)

Along my journey I have attended worship gatherings across a diverse spectrum of Jesus’ followers. I’ve worshipped at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin and at small rural churches in the middle of Iowa cornfields. I’ve participated in worship at raucous Pentecostal meetings and in the relative silence of a Quaker Meeting House. I’ve worshipped with fellow believers in the African American community, in the Arab Israeli community, among the American country club set, among native Americans on their reservation, with homeless in urban shelters, in suburban mega-churches, and among small groups of believers meeting in their homes. I’ve worshipped with children at camp, the elderly in nursing homes, and some version of almost any Christian denomination you can name. As I recall all of these memories, I am a bit amazed at the veritable plethora of worship experiences I’ve had with other followers of Jesus across my lifetime.

I have always been what traditional believers would regard as a “non-denominationalist.” I choose to love and fellowship with any who follow Jesus, no matter what brand of Christianity they hold onto. I have long followed the wisdom of St. Augustine who taught: “In the essentials: unity. In the non-essentials: liberty. In all things: charity.”

In today’s chapter, Paul is addressing a fledgling group of believers at the very beginning of the Christian faith. There were no long standing traditions. There were no well-established rules. Organizational structure is loose, at-best. Worship was a bit of a free-for-all. To this chaos, Paul attempts to bring some sense of order. After laying out his basic thoughts on structure, he sums it all up with: “everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.”

This morning I am thankful for the wide range of experiences I’ve had with followers of Jesus in all sorts of cultures, sub-cultures, social strata, and faith traditions. I’ve appreciated every one of those worship experiences in one way or another. I may have disagreed (in some cases, quite strongly) with some non-essential doctrines of the faith, but I still loved hanging out to share laughter, conversation, and stories over a meal with them. And, I respect our differences. Diversity can teach all parties in relationship an increased clarity of self, a greater perspective of others, and an expansion of love.

Chapter-a-Day

Conflict and the Narrative

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Indeed, an hour is coming when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship to God.
John 16:2b (NRSV)

Stories are boring if there is no conflict.

In 8th grade, Mrs. McLaren taught me that conflict in stories and literature can, in general, be broken down into a handful of categories:

Person vs. Self (think A Beautiful Mind)
Person vs. Person (think Kramer vs. Kramer)
Person vs. Nature (think Tom Hanks in Castaway)
Person vs. God/fate (think Michael Corleone in The Godfather)
Person vs. Supernatural (think of any ghost story)
Person vs. Technology (think The Matrix)
Person vs. Society (think Fahrenheit 451)

The epic stories, whatever mix of narrative they employ, are stories of good versus evil. Good stories are a reflection of the Great Story, and I have encountered many people along my journey who seem to forget that even the Jesus story is a story of good versus evil. Jesus regularly came in conflict with demonic power. He spoke clearly of the enemy who was arranging circumstances that would lead to His death. In todays chapter, Jesus’ even told His followers to expect that others will try to kill them and think they are worshipping God.

The tactics of evil do not change much over time. I have come to believe that we, as human beings, are lemmings by our sinful nature. As such, our enemy uses common tactics across generations. Despite our desire to think ourselves progressive and enlightened, we have, I fear, learned very little from history. Getting people to commit deathly acts as “worship” of God is evil 101. In Jesus’ day the Jews were trying to kill Jesus and His followers thinking they were doing God a favor. Later the Christians would kill the Jews and muslims thinking they were doing God a favor. Today, ISIS and their ilk are killing Jews, Christians, and any who refuse to accept Allah.

How fascinating to think that Jews, Christians, and Muslims worship the same God of Abraham. What goes around, comes around.

[sigh]

Today, I am reminded that in each chapter of my personal narrative I may encounter different types of conflict from conflict with others, to conflict with myself, conflict with fate, conflict with society, et al. As I live out my role in the Great Story, I must not forget that this is a story of good versus evil. I do not want to be caught unaware, but rather desire to be ever mindful of how my words and actions are contributing to the grand narrative. In my story, as it dovetails into the Great Story, I want to be an agent of Love, Life, Light and redemption.

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Chapter-a-Day

Following and Fear

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Despite their fear of the peoples around them, they built the altar on its foundation and sacrificed burnt offerings on it to the Lord, both the morning and evening sacrifices.
Ezra 3:3 (NIV)

Last night was family pizza and movie night. Taylor invited her friend Curtis over to join Suzanna, Wendy and me. Wendy made homemade pizza and breadsticks as we all gathered around the island in the kitchen to share in a glass of wine and conversation.

In the midst of the conversation Taylor recounted a significant point in her life as a teenager in which she made a conscious decision that she was going to follow Jesus. Hanging out with a couple of her best friends shortly thereafter, she explained to them her decision. She shared with them that she needed to start making some different life choices. Things that had been  producing spiritual death in her needed to pass away. She needed to choose into things that would be life giving.

As she spoke, it brought back similar memories for me. After I became a follower a Jesus, when I was still a very young man, there was a period of time in which my new found faith created an awkward fear in me. Those who knew me as one thing, were now going to experience me as another. Old things were passing away in me. New things were emerging. And, while I still loved my friends very much, I knew that I needed to change. Whenever Jesus called someone to follow, there was a requisite of leaving things behind and striking out on a path toward new things.

Perhaps it was Taylor’s story and my memories that resonated as I read this morning of the Hebrew exiles returning to their homes. The temple had been in ruins for years, so long that those living near could scarcely remember it being a center of worship. Now, a new thing was happening. Life was returning to a place of death. The worship of God was beginning once more and with it came that awkward fear of how their neighbors would react. And yet, they continued to obediently follow the plan.

I’ve learned along life’s journey that following Jesus sometimes means obediently following where He leads, despite my fears or my nagging concern about what others might think. On a few occasions, it has meant following Jesus down paths He was leading me despite even my fellow believers thinking me cracked and accusing me of going the wrong way.

Choosing Life requires making choices and moving my life in directions where increasing measures of Life will be found. This necessitates leaving behind parts of my life, and even people in my life, who are sucking the Life out of me. I do this not because I judge these other people as bad or evil. In fact, I have tremendous amounts of love for them. I do this because, in the moment, I am called to pursue Life. In doing so I ensure that I may someday have an over flowing abundance of Life; Life I might someday have a chance to share with those same loved ones from whom I needed to distance myself for a time.

photo : redvers via flickr

Chapter-a-Day

Hitting the Wall; Pressing On

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photo by Josiah Mackenzie via Flickr

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
Galatians 6:9 (NIV)

This past weekend I had the opportunity to hang out with some old friends from high school. They all ran together on the cross country team back in the day. Running was never my sport. I  tried it one year, but it wasn’t my thing. Nevertheless, I learned a lot from hanging out with runners. Once in a while, the guys would attempt a marathon. When they would talk about their experience with the marathon they would talk about “hitting the wall.” It’s the point at which they would fatigue mentally and physically to the point of wanting to give up. If they could gut it out and continue on they would get a surge of energy and  a dose of “runner’s high” to carry them on, but they often would hit the wall and bail out.

I’ll be honest. This morning as I read the words “Let us not become weary” my heart said, “Too late.” I am feeling weary. I am hitting the wall. Don’t worry; I am not weary to the point of giving up as Paul admonished, but I have come to realize along the way that there are certain stretches of the faith journey in which weariness sets in. It is inevitable. In a marathon, everyone hits the wall at some point.

It was in worship yesterday morning that I truly realized it. The tears started and wouldn’t stop. It was a good thing. It’s one of the things that worship is meant to accomplish. We need moments to pour it all out so that God has room to re-fill us. For me it is not one major thing burdening me but a host of little things that, en masse, have worn on me. It is what it is. I’ve been here before. I will be here again. When you run a marathon you’re going to hit the wall at different points along the way. You push through.

Today, as I start a new week, I am hitting the wall and pressing on.

Travel Journal, Wayfarer's Journal

Edinburgh Travel Journal: Day 7

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Taylor and Wendy at Eteaket for British High Tea.
Kissing on the bridge at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Chatting at Rabbie Burns Pub.
Inverleith House Art Gallery, where Taylor interned this year on the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Wendy stands in the warm sun at Inverleith House Gallery on the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy buy chocolate made in Scotland.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy at Eteaket for British High Tea.
Tom and Wendy at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Blue poppies (I think) at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Inverleith House Gallery on the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Prayer station at Central, Edinburgh
The worship area at Central, Edinburgh.
Daisies at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Walking to Central, Edinburgh.
Wendy at Inverleith House Gallery on the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
I haven’t gotten to kiss her enough this past year! Tom and Taylor at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Walking back to our hotel, one final time before leaving Scotland.
Wendy basking in the sun at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Inverleith House Gallery on the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
The Royal Mile, Edinburgh.
Tom with Jon De Haan, Gabe Spencer, and eight very good Scotches at Rabbie Burns’ Pub on the Royal Mile, Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy at Eteaket for British High Tea.
Taylor T Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
What a HEDGE! Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Edinburgh Castle seen from the base of Castle Hill.
Central meets at Central Methodist Hall in Edinburgh.
A lone red poppy at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy waiting for the bus.
Wendy on the bus.
We saw Greenland on the flight home. It looked very cold!
Taylor takes a picture of her handiwork at Inverleith House Gallery on the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy at Eteaket for British High Tea.
Steampunk Coffee’s mobile coffee stand.
Taylor and Wendy at Nando’s Restaurant, Edinburgh.
Wendy chats with Taylor on the lawn at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Taylor enjoying the sun at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Wendy and Taylor bask in the sun at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
A toast to whiskey tasting with good friends at Rabbie Burns Pub.
Sign on the outside of Central, Edinburgh.
The less expensive flight of Scotch whiskey that Jon and I purchased.
The expensive flight of Scotch whiskey that Gabe purchased.
Tom and Taylor at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Prayer time at Central in Edinburgh.
Taylor and Wendy nap and sun themselves on the lawn at Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.
The open market we enjoyed.
Taylor and Wendy chatting before the service at Central.
The Royal Mile, Edinburgh.

I am publishing my travel journal from our trip to Edinburgh which  took place June 1-8, 2015. I am posting my journal entry and pictures from each day in chronological order.

Our last full day in Edinburgh was sunny and relatively warm. It would turn out to be the nicest day of our entire trip and a wonderful way to end our time in Scotland. Wendy and I got up and, while Wendy showered, I walked up Victoria Street to the La Barantine Patisserie for an Americano. We got ready for the day and grabbed the bus to the Royal Botanic Gardens, which was the same route we’d taken the day before to Taylor’s flat, but just a few stops before.

Wendy and I walked down Arboritum Road toward the entrance to the gardens and enjoyed the sunshine. It felt absolutely wonderful as we walked. It was about 4-5 blocks to the main entrance of the Gardens and we entered the visitor’s center to find Taylor browsing through the gift shop.

We entered the gardens and immediately walked to Inverleith House, an old mansion in the middle of the gardens which contains a contemporary art gallery. Taylor had done an internship there this year, helping them investigate opportunities to build patron support. There was a show by Nicholas Party in the galleries called “Boys and Pastel” which Taylor had helped install. Not only did it have the artist’s works, but the artist had chosen colors and designs for the walls of each room, which Taylor had helped paint. We walked through the exhibit and took pictures. The gallery was nice with big airy rooms and a lot of gorgeous sunlight.

We then began a tour of the grounds. The Botanic Gardens were wonderful and it was such a lovely day. The flowers, the smells, and the landscape were breathtaking and we took our time leisurely walking about. After a while Wendy plopped down on a stretch of grass, stretched out her arms, and basked in the sunlight. Taylor and I joined her and we began a trend as several more visitors eventually joined us nearby. We lay on the lawn, took in the sun, and enjoyed conversation together. I think we all could have sat there all day, but there were other things on our agenda.

Taylor wanted to take us to a small outdoor market that was a hike of several blocks from the Botanic Gardens. During her year in Edinburgh, Taylor has worked two days a week at Steampunk Coffee, a coffee roaster and coffee bar in North Berwick. Steampunk has a mobile coffee stand housed out of a VW van that is a regular at this particular outdoor market. We enjoyed walking through the market and seeing all of the vendors. I especially liked the vendor who makes different sauces with Scotch whiskey.  We bought some Scottish made chocolate and a chocolate fudge muffin before heading for the bus stop.

Taylor had planned a girls date of high tea with Wendy. They got off the bus near the shop, Eteaket, where they had a 2:00 reservation. It is on a lower level with a small outdoor patio where they had tea in the sunshine. Wendy had a fabulous “girls” time with Taylor and she marveled at the huge selections of teas from which she could choose.

Meanwhile, I rode the bus a few more stops. Taylor had told me to get off when I saw the Royal Mile, but I realized that we were passing St. John’s Church on the opposite side of Edinburgh Castle. A quick check of the bus route told me that this was as close as I was going to get since the Royal Mile starts at the castle, so I hopped off and began a long trek up castle hill to the Royal Mile.

As mentioned in yesterday’s entry, I had wanted to do a Scotch Whiskey tasting while in Scotland and knew that neither of the ladies would have any interest. By luck, Jon De Haan and Gabe Spencer had arrived the previous night and when I mentioned doing a tasting they both eagerly agreed to join me. We met at Rabbie Burns Pub on the Royal Mile which had been recommended by a friend of Taylor’s.  Jon and Gabe had just arrived and were looking at the menu as I walked in the pub and we switched to a larger table. We figured we wouldn’t want to do a whiskey tasting on an empty stomache, so we ordered lunch. I had a burger and an ale called Caldonia Best. The boys each joined me in the Caldonia Best, but ordered bangers and mash.

There were three different levels of whiskey tasting that each included four different types of Scotch. Jon and I both chose the same one (the lower priced flight), but Gabe went for broke and ordered the highest price. He was, however, happy to share so we each got to try eight different types of Scotch. It was a lot of fun and I was amazed at the differences in color, aroma, and flavor. There were a couple of varieties that were similar, but for the most part each was quite distinctive. It was fun to have a couple of other guys to share the experience and I enjoyed Jon and Gabe’s company immensely as we chatted away and compared our impressions of the whiskey. I preferred the smokey, peat tinged whiskeys from Islay myself.

Before all of the Scotch was consumed, Taylor and Wendy arrived and joined us. There followed an hour or so of pleasant conversation. Jon and Wendy got into a spirited debate centered on Harry Potter, and whether it was Harry’s mother or father who first appeared out of his wand at the end of the fourth book. The answer would prove whether Rowling had made a mistake or not in the logic of the book. It was fun to watch them spar. Eventually, they put their argument aside. We decided it was time to go. Hugs all around and both of the lads agreed to come visit Vander Well Pub next time they were in Pella.

Wendy had to grab a requested scarf for our friend, Becky, before we left the Royal Mile. We left Taylor to hang with her friends while we hit a few more shops. Wendy and I then headed back to the hotel to freshen up.

Taylor joined us about an hour later after escorting Jon and Gabe to The Elephant House. We left the hotel and trekked to Central Methodist Hall which is now home to Central Church where Taylor has worshipped this year. Wendy and I really enjoyed experiencing worship with her and meeting her friends there. I thought it the perfect way to end our week. Wendy and I loved the mostly younger crowd who gathered there and the Spirited worship. The pastor, Carl, gave a great message on Revelation 5 and then the congregation split into various prayer stations for prayer and meditation.

We left a little early before the service concluded and were greeted at the exit by Pastor Carl, who seemed a nice gentleman. Taylor led us to a restaurant, Nando’s, which she had been telling us about all week. It’s a Portugese chicken restaurant and we had our last meal together in Scotland before walking back to the hotel.

Taylor hung out with us for a few minutes as she had a wee bit of a wait for her next bus home. We hugged and said our good-byes, which was certainly bittersweet. It had been so good to see her after eight months, but we took solace in the fact that she will be home with us in seven weeks. After Taylor left, Wendy and I began the process of packing for our trip home as we watched “Bridesmaids” on the telly. I pulled up the Cubs vs. Nationals game on my iPad and as we climbed into bed we watched the Cubs take the four game series 3-1 with a 6-3 victory. It would be a short night before our long journey home.

The flight out of Edinburgh went without a hitch and we arrived at Chicago-O’hare a few minutes early about 12:40 on Monday afternoon. Our 5:30 flight to Des Moines, however, was cancelled and we scrambled to get rebooked on the 7:10 flight. That flight was also delayed. Wendy and I ended up hanging out at the airport and watching the Chicago Blackhawks in the Stanley Cup from the Berghof in Concourse B. Our flight eventually took off for Des Moines at 11:45 p.m. and we landed in Des Moines at 12:40 a.m. Tuesday morning. After our drive back to Pella it was about 2:15 a.m. when we finally got to bed. We’d been up for 26 hours straight. The second 24+ hour day we’d had in 8 days.

Edinburgh Travel Journal: Days 1-2
Edinburgh Travel Journal: Day 3
Edinburgh Travel Journal: Day 4
Edinburgh Travel Journal: Day 5
Edinburgh Travel Journal: Day 6
Edinburgh Travel Journal: Day 7

Chapter-a-Day

Presence

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glory templeThe glory of the Lord entered the temple through the gate facing east.
Ezekiel 43:4 (NIV)

According to the ancient writers, the “glory” of God came in the form of a cloud. It began with Moses on the mountain, continued to reveal itself this way when the Israelites fled Egypt and wandered in the wilderness. The cloud of God’s glory went before them and when they pitched their portable temple known as the Tabernacle, the cloud of glory filled it. When Solomon’s permanent temple was completed, the cloud of glory filled the temple and was so thick that the priests had a hard time seeing to do their sacrificial duties.

This morning as I ponder this descent of God’s presence in the temple, I am reminded of many contrasting weekly gatherings of my fellow Jesus followers. Some Sunday mornings can feel rather empty. It’s not that it isn’t worthwhile or that good things aren’t happening in the worship, it just feels like we’re going through the routine motions. Jesus promised that wherever two or three believers gather, He would be present. I have found, however, that much like His chronicled appearances after the resurrection He sometimes chooses not to reveal himself in quite the same way.

There are times, however, when I have physically felt the presence filling the room. It is not prescriptive and there is no formula for making it happen. I have come to observe that God cannot be tamed or placed in a box of our making. I know that may sound crazy and subjective to some. There many special moments I can recall, however, when I have felt God’s presence fall and fill the room in a special way just as Ezekiel describes.

Today, I’m thankful for the promise of Jesus’ presence whether He remains quietly present or whether He makes His presence known in powerful ways. I seek Him however He chooses to reveal Himself.

Wayfarer's Journal

From Bricks and Mortar to Flesh and Blood

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English: The Second Jewish Temple. Model in th...
English: The Second Jewish Temple. Model in the Israel Museum. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Some of his disciples were remarking about how the temple was adorned with beautiful stones and with gifts dedicated to God. But Jesus said, “As for what you see here, the time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down.” Luke 21:5-6 (NIV)

 

Along my life’s journey I’ve gathered with fellow believers to worship God in all sorts of places. I’ve been in schools, community centers, football stadiums, convention centers, hospital chapels, homes, parks, and lean-to sheds. I’ve also worshipped in beautiful cathedrals of historic value, prayer towers, and multi-million dollar state-of-the-art facilities.

 

The truth is, I don’t really care that much where I worship. As with other works of art, I appreciate all the beauty and meaning that architecture can express. Yet, as with all works of human expression, there is a subtle human tendency to shift our focus from the Creator to the created work. All my life I’ve witnessed people attach to church buildings a sacredness that actually runs counter to a fundamental teaching of Jesus.

 

Jesus’ death and resurrection ushered in a major spiritual shift that Jesus hints at it in today’s chapter. Before Jesus, the center of worship and the symbol of God’s presence had been wherever the ark of God was [cue: Raiders of the Lost Ark Theme]. At the time of Jesus’ teaching, that central location had been the temple in Jerusalem for almost a thousand years, ever since King Solomon had built the original on that spot. Jesus, however, taught that after His resurrection the Holy Spirit would be poured out and would dwell in (or in-dwell) every believer. It happened 40 days after Jesus’ resurrection (you can read about it here).

 

With the pouring out of Holy Spirit, the shift of worship moved from a central location (the temple in Jerusalem) to, as Jesus put it, “wherever two or three are gathered in my name.” The temple was no longer a building made with human hands. The indwelling Holy Spirit transforms our very bodies into the temple of God. Paul wrote to Jesus’ followers in Corinth:

 

Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?

 

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?

 

The implications of this shift are profound. Jesus says to His disciples that the temple in Jerusalem with all its history, importance in God’s story, and splendorous beauty is simply nothing more than bricks and mortar than will end up on the rubble heap of history. [Note: That very temple was indeed destroyed some 40 years (or one generation) later in 70 A.D., fulfilling Jesus’ prophetic words.] Worship is no longer to be centered in a building but in believers gathered together, and that can happen anywhere. God’s Holy Spirit is not located in this or that place where we must make a pilgrimage to visit. When we invite Jesus into our hearts and lives, the Holy Spirit indwells us and transforms our very own bodies into a mobile temple that we take with us wherever we go 24/7/365.

 

Today I’m grateful for the beautiful facilities where I get to regularly worship, but I am even more grateful that Wendy and I can worship anywhere and anytime with any other believer. God is not confined to a building, but present wherever we gather and acknowledge His presence.