My Father's Home
She was a bit young for ministry. She wondered if that was how the congregation thought. But she was here because of circumstances beyond her control. The church was small. She'd grown up in it and had now returned. She sat back and listened to the small choir sing out, 'The Church is One Foundation', and considered her place within these walls.
There'd been a thought running around in her head the last few days. She managed to get a grasp on it last night during prayer. She jotted down a few notes and brushed them up while eating a piece of toast before service. She was nervous and knew it showed in her voice, when she gave a morning blessing to those in attendance.
The Gospel reading had been from the Book of John, Chapter 2, verses 13 to 22. She read God's word as put on parchment by the apostle. After reading the passages last night she pondered arguments of religious men as to who wrote the Gospel. She believed the writer was the apostle. Debates about authorship were foolish and something she'd prefer to ignore.
"My Father's house," she said to the sparse audience, "Jesus speaks these words in verse 16, and that is where my sermon is going to begin. I've thought about this phrasing often. My Father's house. We say, when we sit here deep in prayer, that we are in the house of God. House is a formal place. House is not a place where we live. It's where someone else lives. Someone who would be a stranger, or an acquaintance. House is a structure. It is made of brick, mortar, and wood. House is impersonal. I'm sure a little has been lost in the translation.
"House. If I ask you, did you build your house on sand... or rock. And you consider your answer well. And indeed you built it on rock. Do you call it your house or your home? I can have a house. I can have many houses, but they might never be homes.
"Imagine this, Jesus says to the money changers, 'Stop turning my Father's home into a market.' Home. One simple four letter word and we have turned the temple into a place with intimacy. We have turned it into a place where God meets you, just like the father met the prodigal son. A place were God embraces you and forgives every sin that you desire to have forgiven.
"Home. It's still made from the same materials as a house. We still use nails to hold the lumber together. We still construct it on a foundation, which we pray, is not sand. But we add one more thing to a home. Something no builder can add. Something no stained glass window, no top quality organ, no Soprano with a perfect voice can give. We, the people who walk through those doors, we the people who sing Alleluia out of key, we the people who ask our Father to forgive our transgressions, we make this a home.
"Because we bring love.
"Isn't that what Jesus teaches. Love.
"So, when you stand in front of this humble structure, do not think of it as the house of God, think of this place as His home. Know that you are welcome. Know that you are loved."
copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr
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