The Temple Of Wisdom
Sermon
THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM
Sermons For Pentecost (Middle Third)
The text appointed for today describes the dedication of the Temple, the magnificent house that Solomon built for the name of the Lord. The Temple itself is something to behold, built of cedar and cypress overlaid with pure gold. It takes seven years altogether to complete the Temple, to finish all of the details; doors of olivewood with carved palms, open flowers, cherubim, an inner core of hewn stone and cedar beams. In the inner sanctum, the holy of holies where the ark would be placed, Solomon builds two cherubim of 10 cubits, approximately 180 inches, and those cherubim were overlaid with pure gold. When the Temple is finished, Solomon assembles the elders of Israel, and all the heads of the tribes and all the leaders of the ancestral houses of Israel. All is ready. The temple is filled with throngs of people. All those assembled hold their breath in holy expectation, as the priests bring forth the ark of the covenant. All assembled hold their breath in holy expectation as the priests place the ark of the Lord under the wingspread of cherubim 10 cubits wide. All assembled hold their breath in holy expectation wondering, would the Lord be pleased with the Temple as a dwelling place? The assembled also asked, "Would God make God's presence known?"
The priests come out of the holy place and the people's expectation is fulfilled, as a cloud fills the house of the Lord, "so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord fills the house of the Lord." God's glory fills the Temple. God is present. God is known.
Scholars agree that 1 and 2 Kings is a history, a compilation of texts which includes the Succession Narrative, the Book of Acts of Solomon and the History of the Monarchs. Scholars agree that 1 and 2 Kings was written during the time of the exile, when the saving history of Israel seemed to be at a standstill. 1 and 2 Kings were written to support the people coping with defeat and despair, to strengthen the people of Israel in their obedience to the law and to point to Solomon's wisdom. 1 and 2 Kings were written to point to Solomon's relation to God as a model for the people, a model of someone who understood fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
This section of 1 Kings, Solomon's prayer of dedication for the Temple discloses Solomon's spirit of wisdom and understanding, spirit of counsel and might, spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord, all qualities valued by the writer of 1 Kings. Solomon begins the prayer by acknowledging God's transcendence and imminence all in one breath. There is no God like you in heaven above (as God is transcendent) keeping covenant and steadfast love for your servants who walk before you with all their heart (as God is imminent). Solomon's proclamation is quickly followed by Solomon's wisest question: "Will God indeed dwell upon the earth?" Is God present with us? How do we know?
It is the exiles' question, too, of course, is God present? How do we know? After Nebuchadnezzar and his troops descended upon them, ravaged Jerusalem, destroyed the Temple, killed the sons of the Israelites, left their daughters grieving widows, the Israelites questioned. After Nebuchadnezzar and his troops scattered the people, as a child scatters marbles across a school yard, scattered the people Israel into exile, the Israelites questioned: will God indeed dwell upon the earth?
It is our question, too, this question of God's presence. It comes from deep within the human soul and out of our experience ... as we see the faces of the starving in Somalia, as we read the statistics of those who are homeless in New York. Will God dwell upon the earth? Will God make God's presence known to us as we watch relationships break apart between those whom we love, or hear about a good friend who has discovered she is HIV positive? Will God indeed dwell upon the earth, will God become present to us? We ask the question as we struggle with our deepest longings, repeated patterns of pain, as we offer up our dearest hopes or face the fact of our mortality. It is our question, too, the question of God's presence.
The text which asks the question of God's presence also points us to the places where God may become present to us. The text points us first to the possibility of God's presence in the Temple, the possibility of God's presence in worship. Oh, much of the time for most of us, worship is a habit, a good habit, a time to sit quietly, to sing a few hymns, to pray a few prayers, to think about the week that is past and what lies ahead. But on occasion, even in worship, something will break through our habit, the Spirit of the living God. For example, one Sunday this past winter, I dropped into the late afternoon service of "Evensong," on my way home from work, weary from the day's routine. It just happened that the boys' choir was singing softly. The boys sang, "Tell out my soul, the greatness of the Lord, unnumbered blessings give my spirit voice, tender to me the promise of God's word, in God my Savior will my soul rejoice!" It was the sweetness of their voices and their song set against the harshness of experience, that suspended me. The song helped me to hold together the goodness and all that which is wrong. We are promised God's presence as we seek to worship God.
Next the ark of the covenant is brought into the Temple disclosing, as someone has said, "that God's moral claim is at the heart of God's being, and is the essence of God's presence." This is the truth which is threaded throughout the whole of 2 Samuel and 1 Kings: that, in a manner that remains mysterious, God is present when we live within the framework of God's intention for us. We place ourselves in jeopardy when we do not. An undergraduate writes from her summer service project, "The people here are modest and hardworking, filled with questions and with doubts, and our prayers in the morning are filled with the full gamut. Still we manage to serve over 100 people a hot lunch every day, collect clothes and distribute them, raise funds to keep our doors open, laugh a little, hold each other close. God is present at the settlement house for those who seek to live out God's will."
Finally, the text points us to the reality that God is numinous and mysterious, awesome and aweful. Solomon knows that the highest heaven can not contain God, much less the house that Solomon has built, that God's power and God's presence is beyond human understanding. One midnight this past summer, in the little stretch of north Canadian woods where my family vacations, my mother, brother, sister and I had gone down to the dock for a midnight swim in the bay. When all of a sudden the sky lit up in a manner that defies description, as if some wild someone was flashing a cosmic strobe throughout the sky. The once brilliant stars were lost to the brilliance of this other display, streaks of light, colored in green and rose and gold, streaks moving in great circular swishes and gorgeous patterns. My brother ran to rouse sleeping husbands and children, but he needn't have hurried for these northern lights lasted for hours and were a sensation. We watched spellbound until the lights had finished and returned the sky to a heaven full of brilliant stars.
We spent much of the next week wondering about the northern lights, researching what had caused them, blowing the dust off star books in the lodge library to try to discover what had caused such a sensational display. In my grandmother's 89 summers, she could not remember northern lights like we had seen. We did not know, we were not sure. But of one thing I was certain, my understanding of God was radically altered. To see the night sky explode with color and movement and flashes of light flooding our gaze, is to know God as fluid, and changing; breathtaking in God's dynamic strength, awesome, aweful.
We may experience God's elusive presence in our worship, in our striving to live out a moral life which is God's intention for us, in our accepting God as Other, high above the heavens. Amen.
The priests come out of the holy place and the people's expectation is fulfilled, as a cloud fills the house of the Lord, "so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord fills the house of the Lord." God's glory fills the Temple. God is present. God is known.
Scholars agree that 1 and 2 Kings is a history, a compilation of texts which includes the Succession Narrative, the Book of Acts of Solomon and the History of the Monarchs. Scholars agree that 1 and 2 Kings was written during the time of the exile, when the saving history of Israel seemed to be at a standstill. 1 and 2 Kings were written to support the people coping with defeat and despair, to strengthen the people of Israel in their obedience to the law and to point to Solomon's wisdom. 1 and 2 Kings were written to point to Solomon's relation to God as a model for the people, a model of someone who understood fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
This section of 1 Kings, Solomon's prayer of dedication for the Temple discloses Solomon's spirit of wisdom and understanding, spirit of counsel and might, spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord, all qualities valued by the writer of 1 Kings. Solomon begins the prayer by acknowledging God's transcendence and imminence all in one breath. There is no God like you in heaven above (as God is transcendent) keeping covenant and steadfast love for your servants who walk before you with all their heart (as God is imminent). Solomon's proclamation is quickly followed by Solomon's wisest question: "Will God indeed dwell upon the earth?" Is God present with us? How do we know?
It is the exiles' question, too, of course, is God present? How do we know? After Nebuchadnezzar and his troops descended upon them, ravaged Jerusalem, destroyed the Temple, killed the sons of the Israelites, left their daughters grieving widows, the Israelites questioned. After Nebuchadnezzar and his troops scattered the people, as a child scatters marbles across a school yard, scattered the people Israel into exile, the Israelites questioned: will God indeed dwell upon the earth?
It is our question, too, this question of God's presence. It comes from deep within the human soul and out of our experience ... as we see the faces of the starving in Somalia, as we read the statistics of those who are homeless in New York. Will God dwell upon the earth? Will God make God's presence known to us as we watch relationships break apart between those whom we love, or hear about a good friend who has discovered she is HIV positive? Will God indeed dwell upon the earth, will God become present to us? We ask the question as we struggle with our deepest longings, repeated patterns of pain, as we offer up our dearest hopes or face the fact of our mortality. It is our question, too, the question of God's presence.
The text which asks the question of God's presence also points us to the places where God may become present to us. The text points us first to the possibility of God's presence in the Temple, the possibility of God's presence in worship. Oh, much of the time for most of us, worship is a habit, a good habit, a time to sit quietly, to sing a few hymns, to pray a few prayers, to think about the week that is past and what lies ahead. But on occasion, even in worship, something will break through our habit, the Spirit of the living God. For example, one Sunday this past winter, I dropped into the late afternoon service of "Evensong," on my way home from work, weary from the day's routine. It just happened that the boys' choir was singing softly. The boys sang, "Tell out my soul, the greatness of the Lord, unnumbered blessings give my spirit voice, tender to me the promise of God's word, in God my Savior will my soul rejoice!" It was the sweetness of their voices and their song set against the harshness of experience, that suspended me. The song helped me to hold together the goodness and all that which is wrong. We are promised God's presence as we seek to worship God.
Next the ark of the covenant is brought into the Temple disclosing, as someone has said, "that God's moral claim is at the heart of God's being, and is the essence of God's presence." This is the truth which is threaded throughout the whole of 2 Samuel and 1 Kings: that, in a manner that remains mysterious, God is present when we live within the framework of God's intention for us. We place ourselves in jeopardy when we do not. An undergraduate writes from her summer service project, "The people here are modest and hardworking, filled with questions and with doubts, and our prayers in the morning are filled with the full gamut. Still we manage to serve over 100 people a hot lunch every day, collect clothes and distribute them, raise funds to keep our doors open, laugh a little, hold each other close. God is present at the settlement house for those who seek to live out God's will."
Finally, the text points us to the reality that God is numinous and mysterious, awesome and aweful. Solomon knows that the highest heaven can not contain God, much less the house that Solomon has built, that God's power and God's presence is beyond human understanding. One midnight this past summer, in the little stretch of north Canadian woods where my family vacations, my mother, brother, sister and I had gone down to the dock for a midnight swim in the bay. When all of a sudden the sky lit up in a manner that defies description, as if some wild someone was flashing a cosmic strobe throughout the sky. The once brilliant stars were lost to the brilliance of this other display, streaks of light, colored in green and rose and gold, streaks moving in great circular swishes and gorgeous patterns. My brother ran to rouse sleeping husbands and children, but he needn't have hurried for these northern lights lasted for hours and were a sensation. We watched spellbound until the lights had finished and returned the sky to a heaven full of brilliant stars.
We spent much of the next week wondering about the northern lights, researching what had caused them, blowing the dust off star books in the lodge library to try to discover what had caused such a sensational display. In my grandmother's 89 summers, she could not remember northern lights like we had seen. We did not know, we were not sure. But of one thing I was certain, my understanding of God was radically altered. To see the night sky explode with color and movement and flashes of light flooding our gaze, is to know God as fluid, and changing; breathtaking in God's dynamic strength, awesome, aweful.
We may experience God's elusive presence in our worship, in our striving to live out a moral life which is God's intention for us, in our accepting God as Other, high above the heavens. Amen.
