When I stepped out the door to walk the big dog, I had no idea I wouldn’t be able to see to the end of the street. We rarely get fog so this was a rare treat. I love walking in a predawn fog.
It’s disconcerting. Suddenly, the same houses and neighborhood look completely different. Have I been here before? I feel disoriented. Where am I? Where is my house? How will I get back home? Take a breath. Just keep turning left and you’ll be back at your house in no time.
It’s beautiful, but distressing. The clouds have descended and stolen the sunrise. They have hidden the horizon. How will we get them back? Take a breath. The fog never stays for long.
It’s confusing. Maybe my glasses are dirty. Wait. I don’t wear glasses. I’ll rub my eyes, and everything will clear up. Right?
Is it a fire? We had wild fires just a half a mile from our home. The smoke was dense when we evacuated. Thankfully, when the smoke cleared and we returned, our house was still there, unharmed.
It could be the darkness closing in. Yoda said, “The dark side clouds everything.” I don’t want to start down that dark path. I might never return. Maybe I should just turn around and go back in the house.
It could be a dream. I’ll wake up any minute and the Florida sun will still rule the sky. Everything will be bright and clear. If I can just open my eyes.
“Live and in person” Advent devotion for December 12, 2020. Read 1 Kings 8:10-11 and Psalm 11.
Finally, after seven years of construction, the temple in Jerusalem is finished and furnished. Priests bring the ark of the covenant into the inner sanctuary. “When the priests came out of the Holy Place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord” (1 Kings 8:10,11). The cloud of God’s presence which had covered Mt. Sinai, had led the people through the desert and had filled the tabernacle now took up residence in the magnificent temple built by Solomon.
Solomon’s dedication prayer recognizes that the God of all creation certainly cannot be contained in a structure built by human hands. Yet for this occasion, God was indeed with them in a holy place only he could occupy. In the years to come, Solomon hoped that whenever there was trouble, the people would pray towards that place to remember God’s presence and receive his grace.
Many of you reading this probably remember “glorious” churches where you have worshiped. I remember the dedication of a new sanctuary for the church where I grew up. It seemed so big and the music was like nothing I had ever heard. I remember the dedication of the new sanctuary where I currently serve. It too was so big compared with where we previously gathered.
Many of you might also remember some of the glorious moments in churches where you worshiped. I vividly recall churches where I played trumpet with enormous, powerful organs whose sound filled every inch of the worship space. I have wonderful memories of baptizing, confirming, and marrying my children. I treasure the awesome moment of laying my hands on my son’s head, ordaining him into the ministry. I also can’t forget glorious moments on mission trips to Haiti or Kenya, where I worshiped in structures with tin roofs and dirt floors.
I’ll bet every believer has been in a space that seemed to be occupied by God. Or a moment when God seemed especially close. If God is indeed bigger than the universe He created and can do more than we ask or imagine, why would He choose to squeeze Himself into a temple, sanctuary or even a modest chapel? For that matter, why would He squeeze Himself into the human form of a baby born in Bethlehem, raised in Nazareth and crucified on Calvary? He must really want to be with us, live and in person!
Thank You, Lord, for the moments and spaces You have filled with Your presence. Amen.
“Live and in person” Advent devotion for December 11, 2020. Read Exodus 40:34-38 and Psalm 81.
So finally, after all the work collecting materials and crafting the tabernacle, the portable worship center for the newly free nation of Israel was ready. The curtains are in place, the table is in place, the lampstand is in place, the altar and basin are in place, the ark is in its place and the priests are sanctified and ready to do their jobs. Now the cloud which will lead them on their journey (and will be a pillar of fire at night) covers the tent as the glory of the Lord fills the tabernacle. No one can go in. It’s occupied by a holy God, live and in person with His people.
We have a fog machine at church that we’ve used for Vacation Bible School special effects. I got it out a couple of years ago for a Transfiguration Sunday children’s sermon. It almost worked too good. Any more smoke and I think we would have set off the fire sprinklers! I do not need that kind of excitement on a Sunday morning.
The idea of a smoke-filled room can be good news or bad news. If the cassarole in the oven is burning, it’s bad news. If some policies and procedures are being ironed out, it could be good news. If all that incense makes you wheeze and cough, it’s bad news. If it’s the sweet-smelling prayers of God’s people ascending to heaven, that’s good. If the Advent wreath is on fire, that’s bad. If the sanctuary is filled with VBS kids, that’s good!
For the nation of Israel, the smoke of God’s presence in the tabernacle was very, very good news. It meant that their God was with them wherever they went. He would not leave them nor forsake them. He would be with them always, to the end. They would never be on their own to survive, navigate their journey, or fight an enemy. God was with them!
When I was a pastor of a church in Connecticut, I went to a pastor’s conference at a retreat center on the southern coast. It was a really nice place, with great meeting spaces and pretty good food. The pastor in charge of worship was pretty high church. When we met in the chapel of the retreat center, I experienced my first incense-filled evening prayer service. Where I grew up, we never did that. But here, it was a reminder of our prayer and the Lord’s presence.
A few months ago I preached at a colleague’s church for the anniversary of his ordination. I noticed a censor in the front of his church. I asked, “How often do you use that?” He said, “Every week. I light the incense and walk around the sanctuary about an hour before our worship. The smoke and aroma lingers just enough to remind us of our prayers and God’s presence.” I really appreciated his efforts. I had never had this experience.
How about you? Would a cloud of aromatic smoke remind you of God’s presence in our worship? Or do other sensory reminders draw you into the presence of the Savior?
Thank you, Lord, for all the reminders of your presence in our worship and in our lives. Amen.
Waite for it... 