(I Kings 8: 22-23, 27-30; Psalm 84; Mark 7: 1-13) “Can it be indeed that God dwells on earth?” That was Solomon’s question as he dedicated the Temple in Jerusalem in today’s first reading. It is a good question for us to ponder today.
Until Solomon, God had lived in the Ark of the Covenant in a tent from the days of the flight from Egypt. The Ark led the Israelites in battle, bringing down the walls of Jericho and often giving victory. Yet God let it be captured by the Philistines when the Israelites thought it was enough to have the Ark: they didn’t need to actually depend on God. When David had wanted to build God a house, God’s answer was, “In all my wanderings everywhere among the children of Israel, did I ever utter a word to any one of the judges whom I charged to tend my people Israel, to ask: Why have not built me a house of cedar?” (2 Samuel 7:7) Through the prophet Nathan God let David know that Solomon, reigning in a secure kingdom, would be the one to build God a house of cedar.
Today’s Old Testament reading describes the glorious day when this Temple was dedicated. It had taken more than seven years to build. It was glorious indeed with a room of gold around the Ark of the Covenant, with porches, steps, doors—the best of the best of the best of the architecture of the day. It is described in I Kings 7. Now was the great feast of dedication: the Ark of the Covenant was brought from Bethlehem to Jerusalem. Ox and sheep “too numerous to number” were sacrificed. God in the cloud filled the Temple—letting the people know that He intended to inhabit it.
It was then that Solomon stood between the Temple and the assembled people and prayed, “Lord, God of Israel, there is no God like you in heaven above or on earth below; you keep your covenant of mercy with your servants who are faithful to you with their whole heart. Can it indeed be that God dwells on earth? If the heavens and the highest heavens cannot contain you, how much less this temple which I have built!”
Solomon then begs God to remain with his people and to pardon them for their offenses against him. He hoped this temple and kingdom would stand forever.
Solomon’s temple was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, probably about 400 years after it was built. God’s house “went down” with the homes and lives of his people. The treasures of the temple were carried off to Babylon, and the temple was destroyed.
Can it indeed be that God dwells on earth? If so, where?
Where do you find God dwelling? That seems a very good question for today, Shrove Tuesday, the day before Lent begins. Lent is a holy season, a time to journey toward God, with God, as especially consider God’s great gift of salvation through Christ.
Where does God dwell on earth, that you find him there to make that journey?
I remember my first encounter with the Catholic Church. We were on vacation in Florida (in the US). It was 1959. I was 10. We went inside the mission church at St. Augustine, and I knew God was there.
When my mother was gravely ill my senior year in high school, a teacher suggested that I might pray for her in our local Catholic Church (now my parish) because “it is open during the day and near the hospital.” I had less “sense” of God there, but still, I went each day and sat for quite a while, somehow drawn.
I now have been Catholic for almost 50 years. I still find God in His House—the tabernacle inside our church.
Of course, that is not the only place God dwells. Each person is created in His image, and His imprint is on the soul of all the baptized. He is present in Scripture, in Magisterium, in the assembly of the faithful, in his priests, bishops, cardinals, and popes.
He is present in Christians of many faiths. He is present in EVERYTHING and EVERYONE where there is goodness.
He is present in “distressing disguise” (as Mother Teresa put it) in EVERY PERSON in need.
God is present in an infinite array of situations. His dwellings are all around.
But where do you find God? How do you find God? Or perhaps the better question is, “How and where can you be so God can find you?”
For our faith teaches us that God seeks us. He puts the yearning…or dissatisfaction…or question…or nagging thought…or problem… or joy… or person……. in our lives to draw us to Himself.
God thirsts for us. He yearns for us. Even if we are not yearning for him. Maybe especially if we are not yearning for him.
Fr. Mark Toups in his program on prayer (Oremus) quotes another priest who told this story. This priest was blind. He was taking a walk while visiting out of town when he realized he was lost. He didn’t know what to do, so he prayed. It seemed God said, “Go sit down in the middle of the street.” That did not seem like a good thing to do at all, but God said, “You need to go where you can be found.” That made enough sense that this Father, blind, sat down in the middle of the street. He really hoped he had heard God right when he heard a car coming.
He had heard God right. The person in the car knew him, knew where he was trying to go, and readily too him there. He told Fr. Mark of the incident, “I realized before I got in the door of the house that I had just learned a tremendously important spiritual lesson: In the spiritual life, you must go where you can be found.”
What are your plans for Lent? Do they include going where God can find you—going where God dwells? Maybe that brings a particular place or practice to mind: a retreat spot; a devotional practice, such as Stations of the Cross; an act of mercy you have done; a relationship with someone who speaks for God to you.
Wherever God found you before, He dwells. He can find you there again. Maybe such a person, place, or activity would make a good center for your Lenten practices.
For myself these days, it is in prayer, especially prayer before the Tabernacle, during mass, or from Scripture. Yes, I want to go there to meet God, for I know He dwells there and has found me when I came to be with Him.
How about you?
Prayer:
O Lord, today I say with the psalmist, “How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord, mighty God!” Let me come sit with You awhile. Tell me what You want of me this Lent. I want to be with You.
