Where is Home?

sermon by Carrie Eikler
5th in Samuel Series

     2 Samuel 6:1-3a, 12-22
      2 Samuel 7:1-17

(During this service, we said good-bye to the Cockroft Family: Kim, Martin, Merry, Elspeth, and Beatrix.  They are moving away from the area and will be missed!)

For Father’s Day this year, our family went camping in North Bend State Park, a couple hours from here. I figured it would probably be the last time I would feel eager to go camping this summer, before my belly gets too big for our small tent (and my own comfort). For those of you who have ever gone camping…and I should say tent camping…you may experience what I do when first finding that camp site in a public camping area or state park.

You drive or hike around, surveying the area. Look at the other campers. Survey where the

bathrooms and water sources are. Where are there trees? What looks flat? Where is far enough from others that the noise of small children at 6:30 in the morning won’t be took annoying, but close enough to hear you scream in the event of a bear attack (what? you’ve never thought that?)

And then the unloading begins. Tent, stakes, hammer, tarp. Unfolding and folding, like some outdoorsy origami. Which way to put the door? Where does the breeze come from? Clear the sticks, the stones, chase out the silverfish and beetles that somehow made their home in the tent when you aired it out the day before…

 Ah. The simplicity of camping.

Maybe it gets simpler if you do it more frequently than we do, and you get it down to an easy

routine. Once it was all said and done, Torin and I looked at each other with the expression saying, “All that work for only one night?” But I have to admit, even as the thunder crashed and rain pounded on our thankfully-very waterproof tent, legs of little boys intertwined among us, life seemed pretty sweet in that little tent.

Did you know that YHWH lived in a tent? Of course it was a bit fancier than our four person Kelty tent. If you remember, when the Hebrews escaped from Egypt they took with them the Ark of the Covenant, which was a chest that contained the tablets on which the 10 commandments were written. OK, if that doesn’t spark your memory, think Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark…ring a bell?

As the Israelites began their long wanderings in the wilderness they took the ark with them, with the distinct connection that YHWH’s presence was within it. To protect the ark they also created a tabernacle, or tent. It was essentially a portable dwelling place for YHWH, a moveable place of worship. It went with the people. It stopped with the people. It wandered with the people. It suffered alongside the people.

As we have been moving through the books of Samuel, we have seen the ark stolen and returned, buffeted about with the insecurity of the Israelite people who are seeking some security by installing a king. The ark is last mentioned in the seventh chapter of I Samuel, sort of “dropped off” in the house of Abindadab after the Philistines returned it to the Israelites. It made sense—any Philistines who touched with was basically struck down dead. Not really worth it to keep it.Send it back.

 So now after all this time, David—now King David-- remembers the ark. And in an impressive political move, oozing with religious significance, David decides that things are settled down enough, it’s time put down roots in Jerusalem. Throw away the tent and build a permanent dwelling place for YHWH. Build a temple. Things are looking up--it seems like a good time to invest in real estate.

So David implies to the prophet Nathan that maybe it is time to build something for YHWH. And here we have “incredulous” YHWH again, reminiscent of the voice who spoke to Samuel when the people wanted a king. The voice says, “Hey, I’ve been fine all this time. If it needs to happen, it will happen, but remember that I didn’t ask for this. You’ve never heard me complaining about being on the move.” There is even a subtle concern expressed—YHWH wonders about his freedom to be with the people if he’s not able to move with his people.

Funny thing for the divine to wonder about.

As we continue on in the books of Samuel and 1 and 2nd Kings, we discover that eventually a temple is created, but it is not David who will do it, but his son, Solomon. YHWH is clear about one thing with David, though. While David might not build the house of worship for YHWH, YHWH covenants to build a dynasty, beginning with David, passed on through David’s descendents.

So there are two houses in tension here, both are from the same Hebrew word for house: bayit. David wants to build a physical house, a bayit for YHWH. YHWH wants to build a spiritual house, a bayit, for David and his people. There will be time for the physical temple, but at this moment what is important is YHWHs covenant to bless the descendants of David—this is ahouse of blessing.

We might wonder why YHWY liked being on the move so much. But then, maybe we can understand it. Americans are such a transitory people. According to census reports, the average

American moves an average of 14 times in their lives. And while it seems like we are a people constantly looking for the next job opportunity or big adventure, or simply moving somewhere that seems really “cool,” I think there is also a part of our spirits that yearn to put down roots, and feel like we are creating a home to live out our lives.

And as this congregation has certainly felt in the last two years, there are factors beyond our

control that decide whether or not we wander: family responsibilities, job loss, health conditions. It is not something we necessarily have control over, no matter how much we want to. 

There has been a series on NPR looking at the American Dream and how it is understood by different people and different cultures living in the US. There is a variety of understandings of what this American Dream looks like, but one thing is clear: for many, the American Dream seems like an unattainable goal, or a remnant from a bygone era. It seems like that life with the house, job, car, enough saved up for retirement…those things that exude security is not possible for young, working Americans.

And while we Americans might balk at the idea of living in one house for the rest of our lives, we realize at some point, there is a need in us for security. The house I came home to from the hospital as a newborn, was the same house I left for my wedding day. After 28 years my parents did leave that house…to move to the farm house that had been in the family for eight generations, twenty miles away. To add to that, my parents both had the same job from before I was born until they were able to take early retirement. Talk about creating a sense of security that is not realistic today.

 Torin’s family, on the other hand, basically moved every three years as his father worked in various medical clinics, until they settled in North Manchester, IN when he was in Jr. High. Aside from that time in his teenage-hood, the house he has ever lived in longer than 3 years—has been on the corner of Virginia and Center, in Morgantown, WV.

Needless to say, reconciling our visions of what “security” means has been a challenge. For me, it is rooted in a house, a place, a dwelling, a job. For Torin, it is something else, that I still cannot necessarily articulate...but am trying to appreciate.

But in this tension, and the tension that I see presented in our scripture, I am beginning to discover something. And it is a discovery rooted in that one Hebrew word with multiple meanings: bayit, house…In our lives there is a physical house and a spiritual home. YHWH recognizes the need for the physical, the rooted temple. But YHWH promises to be the cultivator and sustainer of the spiritual, rooted within us, are bodies acting like the tabernacle on the move.

 If you’ve ever moved into a new town, and if you are “average” according to the US Census, you have, you know there is a difference between having a home, and actually feeling at home. The house is necessary for physical protection, but that only satisfies part of us—albeit, a very important part, but not the only.

And for many of us, as individuals and families, houses will come and go, places to live and

work and create relationships will come and go. But it seems like YHWH understands that, in fact, YHWH experienced that. And maybe for some of you your bodies will find a long-term home of brick and mortar, wood and nails, but really, that’s all up to the winds of fate.

But the true holy home rests within us. It’s not the house you build for God, like David’s idea of a temple, but the home that God is building within you. 

It is the home that is built by the blessings we extend and receive, warmed by the souls we touch and who touch us, decorated by the grace and generosity we share of God’s bounteous love. And no matter how much we are forced into wandering, or inclined to put down roots, that home cannot be taken away.

 So I’d like to extend a blessing to all of you, as you are looking for physical houses, and cultivating spiritual homes. Again, this comes from the book of blessings of John O’Donohue [we used an O'Donahue blessing in our sending for the Cockrofts].

I invite you close your eyes and visualize…

visualize the house you live in or are moving to.

or some of you may picture the church building,You are seeing the physical dwellings that are important in your life.

 Now next to it, try to create an image of how you see your spiritual homemaybe it is your family or friends. maybe it’s an image of something that brings you peace,or something that inspires you.

Put to image what your soul might look like,

maybe it’s just you and your body

Here now are two homes…perhaps they are known, perhaps they are unknown.

But they are homes for your body and spirit.

Receive this blessing for your whole bayit:

"May this house shelter your life

When you come in home here,

May all the weight of the world

Fall from your shoulders

May your heart be tranquil here

Blessed by peace the world cannot give

May this home be a lucky place,

Where the graces your life desires

Always find the pathway to your door

May nothing destructive

Ever cross your threshold

May this be a safe place

Full of understanding and acceptance

Where you can be as you are

Without the need of any mask

Of pretense or image

May this home be a place of discovery,

Where the possibilities that sleep

in the clay of your soul
can emerge

To deepen and refine your vision

For all that is yet to come to birth.

May it be a home of courage

Where healing and growth are loved

Where dignity and forgiveness prevail;

A home where patience and spirit is prized

And the sight of the destination is never lost

Though the journey be difficult and slow.

May there be great delight around this hearth.

May it be a house of welcome

For the broken and diminished.

May you have the eyes to see

That no visitor arrives without a gift

And no guest leaves without a blessing"

from To Bless the Space Between Us by John O'Donohue