2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Canticle 15
Romans 16: 25-27
Luke 1: 26-38
When General Eisenhower became president in 1953 he brought a vision for interstates all over the country. Designed to move large amounts of people and things quickly, there was little consideration for how they would impact the cities of America. By the 1970s, many American cities were filled with road repairs, accidents and massive congestion on raised highways through the neighborhoods and historic area.
In the 1980s the city of Boston decided to bury several miles of freeway that ran directly through the center of the city. The Big Dig, as this project would later be named, ended up being the most expensive highway project in the United States, far exceeding the expected cost and time frame of the initial plans.
In 2003 I visited Boston. Like Michigan during the summer the city was covered in orange barrels and construction fencing. Everywhere we looked there was work being done, changing the city and preparing for this reconnecting of neighborhoods that had been divided since the Eisenhower administration. Ultimately the Big Dig was not about traffic flow, it was about reorientation, a sense of the status quo on its head.
This is the same spirit we see in our Old Testament reading today. As our Advent season is drawing to a close and we prepare to celebrate the Lord’s birth in a few days, it is easy for us to move naturally from a spirit of “waiting” to a spirit of “it’s here!” But if we move too quickly in that transition we will miss the work and devotion required to truly reorient ourselves to a new way of life.
In this text from Samuel we see a people, the Israelites, who have finally made it. After generations in slavery in Egypt and 40 years wandering in the desert they have entered the land promised to them. Under the leadership of Joshua and then the judges, they have fought off their enemies and have established the boundaries of their kingdom. Then they had a rough go of it with their first king, Saul, but finally the reign of David settles things down for them. For Israel, they are established. They exist.
As king, David is responsible for the political and spiritual health of the people of Israel. The Ark of the Covenant, the holy ark that carries the Ten Commandments, has been without a permanent home. The Ark represented to the people that God’s presence was with them and it spent the time in the wilderness in a tent. Even after generations settled in the Promised Land, this tent was still the same structure that housed the Ark. David has a palace, but the Ark is housed in a tent. What a strangely backward arrangement!
David proposes to Nathan that they build God a temple, a place for worship and praise that is a permanent monument to God all all he has done for Israel. Nathan has seen the fruits of David’s work and of his faithfulness to God (remember that David is responsible for a majority of the Psalms) and encourages this work. But before David can get started God turns this idea on its head.
In verse nine God, in communication to Nathan, says to David: “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.” But wasn’t God’s presence and power limited by not having a majestic house of worship to dwell in? Scripture tells us that the answer is a profound no.
For this God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has a pretty funny track record. Back in the time of Moses and the Pharoahs God appeared in a bush, setting it on fire with his presence. And then he spoke to Moses and told him how to lead his people. A bush is not exactly majestic or permanent, yet it got the point across. Imagine for a moment if God came and was present at in a tree at Belle Isle or a fountain on the Riverwalk. It would surely get our attention.
Another time, in the book of Numbers, God’s angel appeared to a donkey. Rather than just show up and appear directly to Balaam, he appeared to the donkey only to divert her path. The donkey speaks to Balaam, Balaam responds, and the angel then appears to him. Why? Numbers 22:33 “I have come out to oppose you because your way is perverse before me.” Well, sure God, but isn’t there a less dramatic way to get your point across? A talking donkey? A burning bush?
The point is, God can dwell anywhere. God isn’t confined to the places and things that make the most sense to us as humans. That’s one of the things God is telling David in our passage today. Tent or temple, these things really don’t matter too much to God. If he can dwell in a bush, God can surely accept a tent in the wilderness.
The expectations in the season of Advent are based in the knowledge that God has come and made himself incarnate in the virgin Mary. He is literally dwelling inside the womb of a human being, a teenager who had that awkward “we’re pregnant” conversation except...backwards. Imagine being a woman finding out that you’re pregnant from an angel. That must take a lot of faith and strength in belief to accept that!
Back to our text. God answers David’s desire to build him a temple not with a yes or a no. Instead he does what parents sometimes do. He tells a story. He reminds David of his history, of what God has already done for him in his life. And it is a mighty list of works!
God tells David that he is building him a house, a dynasty, a lineage. Out of the sheep pastures God is establishing a story for the present and for the future. We call this promise the Davidic Covenant.
It is significant not simply for the legacy of David. This covenant promises a permanent throne, a throne not limited to the people of Israel. The first chapter of Matthew’s Gospel tells us the lineage from David to our Messiah, Jesus. David’s throne is not only about the Israelites, it is about the entire world.
God also promises to David that his offspring will build God a house. Let’s read these verses again, starting in verse 13.
He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. When he commits iniquity, I will discipline him with the rod of men, with the stripes of the sons of men, but my steadfast love will not depart from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’”
In the history of Israel immediately following David, his son Solomon would build God a temple. We see here in this text that God promises this will happen. But we also see a foreshadowing of another king and another temple. “I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son.” No where is this more true than in Jesus Christ, God’s only son. Solomon, we are told, often strayed from the worship of God, so we know that this verse about when “he commits iniquity” applies to that immediate history. But it also applies to Christ incarnate.
Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his wounds we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
This passage from the prophet Isaiah reminds us that Christ, while sinless, took on the sins of all of humanity. On the cross, Christ was covered with the transgressions of thousands of years of sins past, present and future. “The stripes of the sons of men” is a powerful foreshadowing of the scenes of Christ carrying his own cross to his place of death. He bore our griefs and sorrows, for us. But God loved him and restored him to life! And thanks be to God for that.
God is not a god that is opposed to a place of worship. Some of the most beautiful places in the world were built to worship and honor our Lord and Savior. As Anglicans we inherit a beautiful tradition of worship that includes liturgies that are almost two thousand years old. There is much to be said about beauty, aw and solemnity in worship.
But God is not limited to our own spaces or works. God is a Robin Williams character in a Disney movie, dancing around and turning into truly awesome but limited things.
And God’s true dwelling place is right here, in the midst of these people. In the Gospel of Matthew Jesus tells us that “where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.” His temple, his kingdom, is everywhere in this world!
As Christians we are called to build temples to God, but not in the way that David intended. Scripture tells us that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit and that we should keep our thoughts, words and actions pure before God. That is how we worship God.
“Mary said, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.’”
A teenage girl said yes to God. She was faithful. And in her faithfulness she became a literal temple for God to dwell. Her life changed thousands of years of human history. She had to go through trials most of us will never experience, literally risking her life to bring the Christ child to earth. And yet she remained faithful.
Oftentimes we don’t know what impact our lives have on others. We don’t know how our decisions will impact this generation or the next. But that’s not our primary concern.
Our call is to remain faithful to God like Mary and like David. Accept God’s word and respond accordingly. We must follow his call! And it may not be until years later that we can see how our decisions worked out.
Last year I went back to Boston, and I saw the results of almost 30 years of work. It was incredible! An entire city was reinvented as they buried an interstate. You can walk to the waterfront and the downtown neighborhoods are finally reconnected after 50 years of separation.
Many of the people who envisioned the Big Dig are retired and others are dead. But their vision and leadership will impact present and future generations of Bostonians who can enjoy their city more fully thanks to a reunited core.
That vision is what God requires of us. We’re not called simply to restore streets and parks, but we’re called to restore lives to unity, to shalom, to a sense of goodness and love for God and each other. This fruit will be born in many ways, some of which will surely include physical restoration of our cities. We should work toward those things.
But let us remember God’s true calling on our lives. We are to love him with every ounce of our beings, and love all our neighbors as ourselves. That is it.
God is faithful. He has done great things for us. Holy is his name!
Amen.
