I Will Give You Rest

2 Samuel 7:1-17

Now when the king was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, ‘See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.’ Nathan said to the king, ‘Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you.’

But that same night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’ Now therefore thus you shall say to my servant David: Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and 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. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place, and be disturbed no more; and evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel; and I will give you rest from all your enemies. Moreover, the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom for ever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me. When he commits iniquity, I will punish him with a rod such as mortals use, with blows inflicted by human beings. But I will not take my steadfast love from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure for ever before me; your throne shall be established for ever. In accordance with all these words and with all this vision, Nathan spoke to David.

A few weeks back, I preached on one of my favorite passages—the story of the Ethiopian eunuch from the book of Acts. It was the story of a person, outcast from society who enthusiastically proclaims that there is nothing to stop him from being baptized, of joining this brand new Jesus movement. The gist of the sermon, and what I believe was the gist of that passage is that the Bible, is so much bigger than many people want to think, so much bigger than humankind’s narrow view; and, to a much greater extent, that God is so much bigger than we can possibly comprehend. God is bigger than any human being will ever understand, God is unknowable. It was about how though we can’t ever truly understand God, we can know that God loves us unconditionally, and always will, no matter who we are, no matter where we are. It was about how God always stands with the outcast, with the exiled, with the wandering—not just with Bible-thumping believers in church on Sundays; and so, on this first Sunday back in the sanctuary after a year and a half of being in COVID-exile, this sermon is about how this church can’t contain God. This church isn’t for God. This church is for us. And that’s okay.

So to recap before we really get into it, the last time we saw David, he had, thanks to God, officially been granted power—with some conditions—over the whole of the kingdom of Israel. It had been a tough journey for him! He battled the giant Goliath, he had to go into exile after Saul attempted to have him killed, his best friend Jonathan died in battle—but in this passage, that Daun just read for us, we have David finally taking a load off, finally relaxing in his house—but David isn’t the type who can just sit back in relax. I get the feeling he’s the type who always has to be doing something. So he decides that now is the time to finally build God the temple that God deserves. His advisor, the prophet Nathan initially says, “of course, what a great idea, your majesty!”

That is, until God directly intervenes, and God gets a little sarcastic and sassy with David—it begins with a sarcastic rhetorical question, “Oh, are you the one who builds me a house?” It’s as if God is saying, this is news to me, the omnipotent God who knows all. God continues, “I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt…I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel—and here I sense a sort of sarcastic rhetorical question—did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders…saying ‘why have you not built me a house of cedar?’” Well, Church, the answer to both these rhetorical questions is no. No, David is not the one to build God a house. No, God never asked, in the midst of all the wandering, all the exiles, for God’s people to build a brick and mortar temple. God will get a temple, yes, when (spoiler alert) David’s son Solomon succeeds him, but it’s not time yet.

And even when Solomon does build God a temple, and this quote is from 1 Kings v. 27, “But will God indeed dwell on the earth?” And then he goes right on and answers his own question, “Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!” Church, the Temple is, the church, these buildings, they’re not for God. They never were. They’re for us. But again, that’s okay.

I’m not here to make any of us feel ashamed for being happy that we’re back in the sanctuary. Because it’s clear we still need this place. We still need this place. We can do without when we need to, when doing without it means ensuring the health and safety of our sisters, brothers, and siblings everywhere. But God never needed it. God was and is with us no matter where we are. I think we learned this well over the past year and a half. God cannot be contained. God is here, sure, but God is even more with those who are sleeping in a tent. God is here, yes, but God is also, and even more with those who are being thrown back out onto the street now that eviction moratoriums are ending. It’s okay, it’s even great that we’re full of joy and relief to be back in this building—as long as we understand that God is here, but that God is not exclusively here.

Twice in this passage, it is mentioned that God is giving David rest. David wants to do something massive and awe-inspiring for God, but God refuses the offering, saying that God is simply going to give David rest. I imagine that for many of us today, being back in this building feels is a huge relief. I imagine that it is a warm and comforting feeling to be back here. I imagine it’s restful. And I think this is a version of God giving us rest. We’ve battled the Goliath of COVID, and I won’t say we’ve won—that would be arrogant and disingenuous—but we’ve no doubt made it to the point in which we can relax a bit. We’ve no doubt made it to the point in we’ve been granted a much-needed little rest, thanks be to God.

I do dream of a day in which we don’t need temples or churches. And sure, that’d mean I’d be out of the job, but it would also mean that we would be at the point in which this earth would be as it is in heaven. Because right now, I see this building, and this time we spend here as a time of respite.

Though, many of us, especially those of us who were forced to go to church as a kid, may feel some kind of guilty obligation to come to church every or most Sundays, many of us may do it out of habit, many of us feel that we need to be here to because that’s what God wants, that that’s what God needs. But God doesn’t need this. God doesn’t need anything, God’s God! We need this. We need this because even though in our hearts we know that God is everywhere and anywhere we are, logically, that’s a really hard concept to grasp. And it’s really hard to feel that outside of these walls sometimes. It’s really hard to feel that when we have our phones, our computers, our tablets, our TVs as constant distractions. It’s hard to feel that when we have constant worries about money, about housing, about transportation, about jobs. It’s hard to feel that when we have the constant specter of climate change hanging over our heads, when there’s perpetual inaction of world governments on behalf of the marginalized and the struggling, when billionaires are racing to space instead of spreading their wealth for this planet. It’s hard to know that God is everywhere when we’re bombarded with infuriating news constantly.

Church, that is why we’re in this building. This is our place of respite. This is our place where we put down our phones we put our jobs on hold, we take deep breaths, we do our best give our anxieties and worries and our fears to God, and we remind ourselves that God is here, and that God will continue to be with us when we leave this building. Maybe that’ll take some of the pressure off, when you feel guilty because you missed a Sunday. Or maybe it’ll make you more inclined to come on Sundays—because you know that this these Sundays are supposed to be regenerative for you. Sundays in this building are so that we can collect ourselves, so that we can put our worldly, personal stressors in perspective for just a bit. Sundays in this building are for the sabbath. They’re for rest. Sometimes Sundays in this building require thinking about tough subjects, but they’re not for work. They’re for discerning what kind of work we will go on to do in the world. They’re for discerning how we can be people of God in the world after we leave this building. Sundays in this building are to help us to be encouraged, inspired, and restored to go out and do God’s will for all people. Sundays are to discern how to make this earth as it is in heaven.

God wants to provide for us. God wants to guide us, and love us. We do right by God by doing the work of Jesus in the world—of lifting of the meek, of working for equity and equality for all. That’s how we show our love for God—not by erecting some incredible temple or monument, not by following rote routines and come here out of habit every Sunday. We show God our love by being the church out in the world. We’ve had extra practice doing this for the last year and a half. This last year and a half was really, really hard and scary and isolating for folks, some more than others. And thank God we’re back here, but we can’t lose sight of what’s changed in this new post-COVID world.

I know for me, witnessing the stark contrast between how people with money and resources lived during this pandemic and how people who had no choice but to go out and work in dangerous environments, or people who got laid off and lost their healthcare during a pandemic, just highlighted how broken the systems in this country really are. I want to make sure I don’t forget that as we fall into new but comfortable and familiar routines. I want to make sure I keep the urgency that I feel—that things need to change much sooner than later.  And so many churches figured out new ways to be the church, as so many parishoners remained patient and dedicated and helped to be so innovating to their faith communities in in so many amazing ways—we can’t lose the creativity and the dedication that everyone in this congregation showed throughout this COVID exile.

But if we do stumble, if we do falter, it’ll be okay. We’re entering into a new era and it’ll take some time to get used to this new normal. It’ll take some effort to remember things about this past year that we want to forget. Now, at the end of this passage, God does make this harsh-seeming comment, that God will “punish [David’s offspring] for his iniquities…”, though these punishments won’t be directly from God, but rather from fellow humans. Now the crucial word in this section the beginning of verse 15. “But.” This “but” can also be translated as “nevertheless.” “Nevertheless, I will not take my steadfast love from him, as I took it from Saul...” God is done with conditionals. God is done with permanent punishments. David is human, his offspring will be human, so they will inevitably make mistakes. They will mess up and they will face consequences. But God makes it clear here, there is nothing they can do that will take away God’s love.

Church, there is nothing any of us can do that would provoke God to take their love from us. And this beautiful, peaceful, familiar space is where we come to be reminded of that when we need reminding. This space is where we come to know God, not because we can’t know God elsewhere, but because outside of this building, the business, the clutter, the noise of this world makes it nearly impossible to press pause and sit and be, and feel that divine presence. This world, outside of these walls, makes it impossible to focus on how to do the good works that God would have us do in the world. And truthfully speaking, we need more than an hour a week to worship and to contemplate and to strategize next steps to make this world what it should be, what it could be. But we’ll take what we can get for now. And what we’re getting now is better than what we were getting earlier in the year. What we’re getting now is comfort; what we’re getting now is peace; what we’re getting now is a recharge so we can go out and be the church and show love and compassion in a harsh and divided world. There is hard work ahead.

But for now, let’s be together and know that we are loved. God is giving us rest, church. Let’s focus on that peace now. Let’s feel that quiet joy, being back together again. But let’s continue to take comfort in and to know that that God is so much bigger than this building. Amen