I Kings 8:22-30, Matthew 16:13-20 "The Open Eyes of God" Scott Hoezee

The singer and former Beatle John Lennon had a noble goal: figuring out what could be done to bring about greater peace and harmony in our violent, factious world. In his song "Imagine," which has been sung quite a bit these last two months, Lennon invited people to imagine how much better life might be if only we could get rid of the things that most often lead people to fight. So he asked us to imagine no country and so nothing to live or die for in terms of patriotic causes. He suggested we imagine having no possessions that we usually fight to keep. But he also suggested we imagine how much better this world would be if we got rid of religion. If there were no doctrines to squabble over, no God in whose name we would launch crusades or jihads or inquisitions, then perhaps global tranquility would follow.

Lennon had the right goal but the wrong way to get there. Because the fact is that as created in God's image, humanity is irreducibly and irresistibly religious. In fact, someone recently noted the irony that if you were to go to New York City on an average Sunday, you probably would not find vast throngs of young people attending church. Many of our nation's youth don't walk through church doorways most weeks to sing hymns, light candles, say prayers, or assume the posture of being reverent and worshipful. But on most days in New York you could go to Central Park West near 72^nd Street to a place called "Strawberry Fields." And there you would find a number of young to middle-aged people lighting candles, laying down bouquets of flowers, sometimes also singing and taking on the kind of hushed tones of reverence most of us experience mainly when in church. What is this quasi-religious place where people seem rather worshipful? It's a shrine to John Lennon where throngs of worshipers gather to commemorate, to remember, to believe Lennon's vision.

The very man who wanted to rid the world of religion has become himself an object of a kind of hero worship. Religion, like so much else in life, is susceptible to abuse and is too often turned in bad directions, as we can see not just in Mr. Bin Laden's kind of fundamentalism but, alas, in the history of the Christian Church, too. Religion warrants careful handling and proper channeling, but what seems all-but certain is that we cannot "imagine" it away. To be human is to worship someone or something.

As in Central Park, our very human religious impulse often gets tied to a specific place. All through history shrines have been built at various sacred locations. For instance, in the Book of Genesis, Jacob had a dream of a ladder going up to heaven. When he awoke, he built a monument and called that special place "Bethel," which is Hebrew for "the house of God." If you discover God in a certain place, you mark it!

Ultimately in the Bible, God's sacred presence got tied to a much grander place called Jerusalem. For a time in the history of God's work, Israel was singled out as a particularly special people whose Temple had the peculiar and stunning distinction of housing the Ark of the Covenant. That Ark was God's earthly throne--it was a visible, tangible reminder to the people that by some miracle of divine condescension, the God whose glory is bigger than the whole universe can contain managed to be located inside the house Solomon built.

But now we don't have a central, sacred place that becomes the focus of our faith. We see Muslims making pilgrimages to Mecca and also bowing down in prayer several times a day but only and always in the direction of Mecca, and it seems odd to us. We can't imagine feeling the need to pray in a certain geographical direction. Most of us don't need a compass before we bow our heads in prayer. Even our fascination with "the Holy Land" and the memorable trips some of us have taken to Israel are not on a par with some kind of pilgrimage to a specific location that alone fulfills our faith.

Yet when you read I Kings 8, it becomes clear that Jerusalem and the Temple Solomon built there had just that effect on the ancient Israelites. Over and over again in this chapter, Solomon talks about the Israelites' praying toward Jerusalem and its Temple. No matter how far away from the city they might be at any given moment, when they prayed, they, like Muslims today, beamed their petitions in a very definite direction. Jerusalem was the central, sacred site because that's where God "lived" on the earth.

So what happened in the Christian tradition to de-centralize what could be called "the geography of faith"? Why don't we have a Mecca or a Jerusalem? The answer is the incarnation of the Son of God into the very human person named Jesus. The answer is Pentecost. In I Kings 8, Solomon wondered how a building made by human hands could even begin to contain a limitless God. But the real wonder of the Bible is the miracle that this same almighty and limitless God got located into just one human person. The Son of God got reduced to a zygote you'd need a microscope to see. The Son of God got shrunk down into something as small as a bouncing baby boy, maybe 7 pounds 14 ounces, born to a young girl named Mary. But how could Mary, who was only a small little human, contain within her uterus the God who fills the universe?!

As if that were not stunning enough, after Jesus died, rose again, and ascended to heaven, the Holy Spirit blew into the apostles at Pentecost in a way that showed the world that now this same Christ Jesus would be fully present wherever two or three folks gathered together in his Name. In a real sense, the gospel declares that God is on the loose in this world! The fullness of God in Christ can be found wherever the Spirit blows.

So even though we no longer look for God to be in just one special, sacred place, that does not diminish how special and sacred every house of worship is today. And that's why this morning's dedication of the renewed Calvin Church, like the 1955 dedication of the original building, means far more than the average building dedication. In the paper or on the news, you may routinely see various dedications taking place. Maybe it's the dedication of Rivertown Crossings Mall. At some point in coming months, we may see some footage of politicians snipping the ribbon to open the new South Beltline. We like to dedicate new places because that makes those places feel special and official. One of the grandest events I ever saw in person was the dedication of the Ford Museum and the Grand Plaza Hotel back in 1981. I was in high school at the time and so was mighty impressed by the parade of celebrities who walked past me that day, including several famous senators, a number of actors and singers from Hollywood, and of course Presidents Ford and Reagan and Vice-President Bush. Last month the Grand Plaza pulled out the stops again to celebrate the 20^th anniversary of its dedication.

But it's finally just a hotel even as the Ford Museum is a monument to just one man. No such secular monument or building can hold a candle to what we believe is true of even the most modest, white clapboard country church you could find out on the plains of Nebraska. Because we believe that whereas once God placed his holy Name on just one place at the Temple in Jerusalem, now the Name above all names, Jesus, is placed on every house of worship.

That's why when Peter correctly identified Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God, in Matthew 16, Jesus handed over the keys to the kingdom. That was a brave thing for Jesus to do, especially considering that at the time, Peter was still a theological yahoo. Only six verses later in that same chapter Peter says something so wrong that Jesus has to call him "Satan." A little farther down the road on the eve of Jesus' death, Peter denies three times having ever heard the name of Jesus. "'Jesus' who?" Peter exclaims again and again. Still, in Matthew 16 when Peter correctly pegs Jesus as God's Son, that right then and there is enough for Jesus to hand him the kingdom's keys. Maybe it was like tossing the keys to the Lexus to your sixteen-year-old son who just got his license: is that such a smart thing to do? But Jesus did toss Peter the universe's most powerful keys sheerly on the punch of Peter's confession. When you say what Peter said about Jesus, that's enough. God is there.

Even today yet, when people get together to proclaim Jesus as the very presence of God on earth, God's fullness and power are right there. It's not magic nor is it automatic. It is a gift of grace--a gift we are right to thank God for and a gift we properly seek to be renewed again and again. We, too, can echo Solomon in asking that God keep his eyes open so that he can see us in this place and at this time. Because if God's eyes are open toward Calvin Church, then everything we do, everything we pray, everything we sing, every act of ministry we perform takes on a meaning that is literally cosmic in scope.

This morning we dedicate a new and renewed building. Forty-six years ago next month, the first installment of Calvin CRC at 700 Ethel was similarly dedicated. But then as now, if what we are celebrating is finally a matter of no more than mortar, bricks, steel, and drywall, then the meaning of it all is limited to just this postage stamp of Midwestern real estate. In the grand scheme of things, we don't amount to much. Most people in our world still get far more enthused about ritzy hotels and new retail outlets than about even the grandest of churches. The Grand Rapids Press is more likely to print articles about the opening of a new mall than about any church--even our attempts to get a little attention from the religion editor didn't generate an article for our dedication this weekend!

So is this dedication just about us, just about our trying to whip up a little excitement here on our wee bit of property so that we can feel better about ourselves? No, of course not. However, to claim that it means anything more than that requires the audacity of faith. Really to believe that what we are doing here has meaning to the kingdom of God requires that we believe that God's divine eyes are open toward this church in a way that's not true of hotels, malls, or other such places. We need to declare boldly that our God in Christ is here, really and truly here, because the Holy Spirit of this God is alive, active, and present.

It is a bold claim. But then, so was Solomon's claim long ago. Out of the whole earth, including nations that were far more impressive than ancient Israel, Solomon claimed that God was in Jerusalem and sitting on that little gold box they called the Ark of the Covenant. God was there in a way not true of the Pharaoh's grand pyramids in Egypt or of the royal palaces in China, Babylon, Persia, or anywhere else. From the outside looking in, there was very little about Israel that helped that claim to appear even very sensible, much less true. In fact, there were lots of reasons someone might conclude that Solomon's prayer of dedication back then was flat out ludicrous! But faith grabs hold of the God whose eyes we believe are open toward God's people.

When Abraham Lincoln was asked to make a few brief dedicatory remarks at the new cemetery in Gettysburg, Lincoln pulled off the remarkable rhetorical feat of turning the tables on his audience in a way that forever changed how this country sees itself. The key turn in the Gettysburg Address was when Lincoln noted that considering what that vast army of dead soldiers had done in giving out the last full measure of devotion, neither Lincoln nor the assembled audience could say anything that could dedicate that hallowed place beyond what the soldiers themselves had already accomplished. Their supreme sacrifice had already dedicated Gettysburg. What remained, Lincoln said, was for all Americans to dedicate themselves to the cause of freedom.

This morning I would suggest something similar for all of us at Calvin Church. If God's eyes truly are open toward our church such that God's Spirit really is active in our midst here at the corner of Franklin and Ethel, then we really cannot dedicate this place or make it any more special than it already is by God's grace. If the fullness of our God in Christ is already here, what more could we add?! So even though this morning we speak the language of dedicating a place, it is finally for us to dedicate ourselves as a congregation to the service of the God whose presence here boggles our minds. If we do, then as I suggested last Sunday morning, perhaps we will become a place that will display the loving presence of our God in a way that will enrich the lives of our neighbors.

This morning's reading of I Kings 8 ended at verse 30, but Solomon's actual prayer extends all the way to verse 53, and what he goes on to say is remarkable. Because Solomon lists seven future situations that would cause people to pray toward the Temple. Solomon talks about sin and war, defeat and drought, famines and hard times. In all those situations, Solomon says that what the people must do is pray toward Jerusalem. Because if they do, God will see their prayers because God's eyes are always open toward that place. If God was there, then that affected the whole of life in good times and bad.

How wonderful it would be if Calvin Church could become one of countless churches throughout our world to which people could come with the expectation that no matter what their situation, they will encounter God here. How fine a thing it would be if we could convey the message that God is with us and that this same God cares for all people in and through the hardships and tragedies of their lives.

"Will God really dwell on the earth?" Solomon asked long ago. The gospel gives us the ultimate answer to that question by showing Jesus of Nazareth dwelling among us, full of grace and truth. His is the Name this place bears. One of the many wonderful scenes in C.S. Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia" shows the children entering a kind of magical stable. Although it looked fairly small from the outside, once they entered the stable, they discovered it stretched on and on and on. "Why," one of the children exclaims, "its inside is bigger than its outside!" And then someone says, "Yes, something similar once happened in a stable on Earth in Bethlehem. For that stable once had something inside it that was bigger than the whole world." That needs to be true of Calvin Church, too. We've physically doubled our building now. But the real bigness of Calvin Church can't be found in square footage but in the expansive heart of Jesus that people find once they come in here. Big as this church now is, it is Jesus who must make it bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.

A while back I told Jim, our Elmridge Construction manager, about one of my favorite cartoons. Twenty or so years ago I saw this cartoon on the office door of the Ada Township Building Inspector. The cartoon showed the construction site for the Tower of Pisa in Italy, now known, of course, as the Leaning Tower of Pisa. In the picture, the construction foreman is whispering to the architect, "I cut some corners on the foundation, but don't worry: nobody will ever know!"

Foundations are important! The Church's one foundation is Jesus Christ, her Lord. If we do not perpetually dedicate ourselves to this Jesus, nothing else we build or do will ever matter. But when we dedicate ourselves again and again to the foundation of this good Lord's grace and love, then the eyes of God are open toward this place day and night. And when you feel that loving stare gazing down on you, what else can you say but "Glory, honor, and praise to God alone!" And all God's people said, "Amen!"