2 Epiphany, Year B

"WHERE IS GOD?"
I Samuel 3: 1 – 20; Psalm 63: 1 – 8; I Corinthians 6: 11b – 20; John 1: 43 – 51
A sermon by The Rev. Gene Tucker, Given at Church of the Redeemer, Cairo, IL; and at St. James’ Memorial Church, Marion, IL (by Mr. Leslie Boyer, Lay Reader); January 15th, 2006

“Where is God?” Have you ever asked yourself that question? “Where is God” in the sense of “where do we find Him?” Do we find Him in a special place, like a church or a pilgrimage site, or can we find Him most anywhere (best of all, in our hearts)?

This sermon will attempt to look at the question of where we find God, first in church architecture, and then in our Gospel reading for today….for that is a central question which underlies Jesus’ encounter with Nathanael, recorded for us in the Fourth Gospel.

We begin by looking at church architecture, and we’ll use both the Church of the Redeemer in Cairo and St. James in Marion as examples (since this sermon is being given in both places today). Fortunately, as examples, they are very similar.

A word of introduction is in order before we begin….In the Summer of 2003, I took a week long course at the Lutheran Seminary in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania which dealt exclusively with church architecture and artwork. The professor (a Norwegian by the name of Christianson) took the class on a virtual tour of Europe and the Near East, focusing in on church buildings from the fourth century forward to the present day. It was an additional treat to know that most of the slides shown to us were taken by him personally over the course of many years as he traveled to various locations, so there were often personal commentaries that accompanied the visual displays we were seeing.

Two words kept cropping up during our study that week….One was the Latin word Domus Dei, which means “the House of the Lord”, and the other word was Domus Ecclesiae, which means “the House of the Assembly”. These two terms would define the two major types of churches we studied.

So, turning now to our church building as we see it before us this Sunday morning, we look and we see a level area for the congregation to sit. Then, there is a step up (or two, as in the case of Redeemer – St. James has one step) to the chancel area. Approaching the altar area a little closer, we come to more steps (one in the case of Redeemer, and two in the case of St. James). At St. James, we are finally on the level of the high altar. At Redeemer, to reach the High Altar, we have to do another step or so upward.

Clearly, the entire focus of the building is the High Altar….Our eyes are drawn to it, and it seems as though we are ascending a ladder as we approach that space. This elevation in height is not simply a matter of making it possible for everyone in the congregation to see the action that’s taking place during the Eucharist. The design is deliberate, and has deep historical roots, in the Roman Basilica.

During the Roman Empire, a royal person often had access to, or had constructed, a building whose main purpose was for that royal person to receive guests and subjects. The design of the basilica was deliberate: a level entrance area and gathering space, leading to successive steps upward toward the throne upon which the royal person sat to receive guests at the opposite end from the entrance. So, the effect was of magnified power and prestige, combined with a sense of difference (due to the difference in height) and distance.

When Christianity became legal within the Roman Empire, many basilicas were transformed into churches, thereby setting a precedent in which God was the royal person who received guests. Where the throne had previously been, now there was often an altar. But the difference in height was maintained, generally speaking.

As time went along, the distinction between God’s presence in the holy space around the altar and the “ordinary space” of the level gathering area became greater and greater….By the Middle Ages, a wooden screen (called the Rood Screen) or even a solid wall separated the level gathering area (the Nave) from the chancel and the altar. Only ordained persons were allowed access to the chancel and the altar area, meaning that lay persons went their whole lives though, oftentimes, having never seen a Eucharistic celebration, much less having actually been a part of one. Bells announced to the faithful out in the nave when something especially “holy” was taking place beyond the rood screen or the wall. (Have you ever wondered where the Sanctus Bell that we ring during the “Holy, Holy, Holy” came from?) That was the signal to the faithful to put down their Rosary beads or their Litanies (which they had been using for private prayer during the Mass) and to pay attention to the action that was going on beyond the dividing wall.

The priest faced away from the congregation, masking the Eucharistic action even more. The east wall of the church behind the altar began to be regarded as the very gate of heaven, its windows pouring in not only sunlight, but the light of heaven.

God had been put into a box, a box that got more and more tightly closed around Him….the building we have been describing is called a Domus Dei, a “House of the Lord”, for it was there (and often only there) that one encountered God. The separation between the holy and the mundane life of the world was complete….one did not affect the other, it seems like.

But this Medieval arrangement was a betrayal of the early Church’s practice….For the early Church often met in someone’s home, and oftentimes, the meeting place within that home was the dining room or a courtyard, where a simple table had been set up in the midst of the assembled believers. There, people would bring bread, or wine, or other gifts to present to the Lord, and they were all laid on this table/altar. Everyone had equal access to the table, both for bringing gifts to enhance it and the community, and to receive the benefits of the Eucharist which was celebrated in the midst of all. The “give and take” between the world and God was free and frequent. This church is called the Domus Ecclesiae, the “House of the Assembly”.

Hold these two concepts in your mind for a minute now, as we turn our attention to the Gospel reading for today…..Nathanael’s journey in discovering where to find God is very much like the differences between a Domus Dei and a Domus Ecclesiae.

Although Jesus describes Nathanael in very positive terms (calling him “an Israelite in whom there is no guile”), Nathanael exhibits a very common attitude about the geography of the Holy Land in his comment “can anything good come from Nazareth?” As different as Nathanael’s heart was in comparison with the Jewish leadership that would eventually be responsible for Jesus’ death (that’s probably the reason Jesus called him “an Israelite” and not a “Jew” – for the Jewish leadership is portrayed in John’ Gospel account as being corrupt and set against Jesus’ message), Nathanael shares with the Jewish leadership the notion that Nazareth is the “wrong side of the tracks”. Probably both Nathanael and the power elite of 2,000 years ago would agree that Jerusalem was “where it was ‘at’”, and certainly, Jerusalem was the place where God was to be found, in the Temple.

So Jesus has a “hurry-up” training session on his hands in dealing with Nathanael. Jesus begins by telling Nathanael that he had seen him under the fig tree before Philip called him…..As readers of John’s Gospel, we know that such foreknowledge is John’s way of telling us that Jesus is fully divine, all-knowing even as God the Father is omniscient…..But Nathanael seems to sense that, as well, proclaiming that Jesus is “King of Israel” and “Son of God”. But Jesus needs to take Nathanael a step or two further, and says, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.”

What greater things? Nathanael has already come light-years in his understanding of who Jesus is, from a son of Joseph from Nazareth to one who sees and knows without a visible means of coming to such knowledge. Nathanael is right to believe that he is in the presence of someone who is intimately familiar with God, at the very least.

Jesus then makes this comment, “Very truly (the Greek is actually “amen, amen” – a characteristic feature in John’s Gospel) I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

What could this statement possibly mean? Nathanael, being the good “Israelite” that he was, knew instantly that Jesus’ language, “the heavens being opened” and of “angels ascending and descending” was an allusion to Jacob’s dream, recorded in Genesis 28: 10 – 18, in which he dreamed that there was a ladder extending into heaven, upon which the angels of God ascended and descended. Genesis records that, when Jacob arose the next morning, he said “surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.”

Jesus seemed to be telling Nathanael that the encounter with Jesus that was taking place that day was “the gate of heaven”, as Jacob described it, and that God surely was “in this place” in the person of Jesus Christ, and Nathanael “did not know it”.

Jesus’ point seems to be that God can be found in a backwater place like Nazareth, and not just in a glorious place like Jerusalem. God is to be found anywhere and everywhere…..God’s blessings are available to all who seek Him in Jesus Christ. (Jesus will go on to reiterate this point in his encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well, in Chapter Four, when he will tell the woman at the well that worshiping on a particular mountain, or in Jerusalem, won’t matter, but worshiping God in “spirit and in truth” will matter.)

Now, let’s go back to our discussion of our church buildings, and tie the concepts we discussed there into Jesus’ encounter with Nathanael…..

We began with the question, “where is God?….where do we find Him?” Is it necessary to have a special place set aside, where our devotions can be aided by the character and layout of the space we use for worship? Or, can we encounter God in most any surrounding, meaning that a church might look much like any other space we use for ordinary purposes?

Perhaps the answer is that a special place, set aside for holy use, and different in its appearance and design, serves to remind us through our senses of sight, smell, hearing and taste that we are in a different sort of endeavor than we would be if we were going to the movies, or to the store, or to a sporting event. As a side note, it’s interesting to notice that many times, when a Domus Dei building is renovated, the altar is moved out closer to the congregation, often finding itself right in the middle of the assembly, where it all began 2,000 years ago. Sometimes, the High Altar is also maintained, giving a dual reminder of God’s presence with us, both as the God who is removed from us and different from us, and the God who comes among us in the person of Jesus Christ as we experience Him uniquely in Holy Eucharist.

In the final analysis, it seems like both focal points are necessary, for the image of the ladder that Jacob dreamed about and to which Jesus alludes today reminds us that a ladder is designed to connect two different places, without losing the distinction of the one place compared to the other.

So may God enable us to connect our holy encounter with Him in this holy space with the holiness of everyday living, that the first encounter may transform the second.

AMEN.