Building Something New

Recently (well actually for a long time) I've been wondering what the future Church will look like.  I suppose this has happened since time immemorial; the generation that holds onto the vision of the future attempts to cast that vision onto the successive generation, drawing plans for what worked for them, preparing them for the difficulties and issues of the present rather than looking into the future of what might be necessary for the younger ones.  Unfortunately, the unpredictability of the future creates fission, not vision, and most of the plans blow up in our faces with mushroom clouds of incredulity that what we thought was inspired by the Spirit for (and of) our present is not what the Spirit had for the next generation.

But the issue remains:

Does the inspiration of the present generation trump the aspirations of the next?  Does our own need for control supersede the omni-mobility of God?  Does the 'growth model' of erecting buildings from the Middle Ages onwards actually work anymore?  Is adding onto our current church buildings actually an attempt to capture God and his power and, at the same time, isolate ourselves from a frequently fear-full world?

For instance, take the story of David.  As he victoriously enters Jerusalem he, much to the disgust of his wife, Michal, dances naked through the streets with slave girls.  Imagine that - the king of the country mixing it up with the lowest of the low.  David is aglow with the thrill of victory; the surge of adrenaline that accompanies success and in the midst of it he wants to capture the feeling, to hold onto it as long as possible before it slips through his fingers into the next trough of difficulties of leadership.

So, he settles into his palace and Nathan, the prophet, enters his presence.  The dialogue is fascinating.

He said to Nathan the prophet, 'Here I am living in a house of cedar while the ark of God remains in a tent.'  Nathan replied to the king 'Whatever you have in mind, go ahead and do it, for the LORD is with you.'  (2 Sam. 7:2,3)

Awash with the accompanying joy of conquering foes, David looks around and notices his resplendent lodgings and wonders if it isn't too ostentatious when the very article of their victory, God's power in the ark, sits in a tent.  It has led them through their battles, fought for them in their darkest trials and given courage to the fearful.  Most likely with altruistic intent, David wants to house the ark in a grand temple of his own design.  It will be the largest building in existence to promote the power of Yahweh, the God of the Israelites.  The wealth of the temple will overshadow that of any other country.  Here is where David will build the house where God will remain.

But that's the problem.  The earth, and all that is in it, is God's house - a mere four-sided structure is simply unnecessary.  Perhaps seeing through the altruistic intent, the LORD enters the conversation and speaks to Nathan:

Go and tell my servant David, 'This is what the Lord says: are you the one to build me a house to dwell in?  I have not dwelt in a house from the day I brought you up out of Egypt to this day.  I have been moving from place to place with a tent as my dwelling.  Wherever I have moved with all the Israelites, did I ever say to any of their rulers whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, 'Why have you not built me a house of cedar?'  (2 Sam. 7:3-7)

God seems to be putting David in the rightful line of importance:  1.  God calls him 'my servant.'  It is not David's responsibility to be the master of the future.  2.  In the long centuries of Israelite leadership, David is the most recent, and as he sits on the throne, has God ever complained about being mobile to Moses, Joshua, Gideon, Deborah, or even Saul or Samuel?  Why should David believe that his role as leader/servant is any more important than these?  3.  Is David's vision for the temple about building a house for God's name, or building a name and a house for himself?

God's response sets the record straight.

Now then tell my servant David, 'This is what the LORD almighty says: I took you from the pasture, from tending the flock, and appointed you ruler over my people Israel.  I have been with you wherever you have gone and I have cut off all your enemies from before you.  Now I will make your name great, like the names of the greatest men on earth.  And I will provide a place for my people Israel and will plant them so that they can have a home of their own and no longer be disturbed.  (2 Sam. 8-10a)

David is set straight as to who will be building 'houses' around here.  God will build the name and the house of David; God will make the sanctuary for the Israelites so that they can live and not be disturbed.  And if David wants to have a place for the ark, that's fine - but God will not be held captive by human need for control.  God's name will reside there (vs. 13) but God's will will not be contained in four walls of cedar and stone.  From the beginning, God is only contained within the people in which he resides - I have been with you wherever you have gone.  (vs. 9). He lives in the body of his son Jesus; he lives in the community of believers on earth right here and right now in the midst of the living stones of the faithful.  (2 Peter 2:4-6). And in this is great hope and power.

We cannot construct buildings that contain the power of God to harness (or harass) his Spirit to enable our will.  No matter if we place a stage at the front, an incredible band at the side or a coffee shop at the back, God's power cannot be caged like a Spiritual Bruce Banner.  The plans that we have been given for the future are only due to the vision of the Creator of the universe and they may be completely different from what we imagined for this present hour.

In part II, we'll look at David's influence over the blueprint of the temple and how that translates to today's theological understanding of the future of the Church.