A Dwelling Place
Living as the People of God • Sermon • Submitted • Presented
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We live in the loneliest, most anxious generation in human history.
We're more connected than ever—texts, emails, social media feeds that never stop—but we're more isolated than we've ever been.
Depression and anxiety are at record highs. We enviously scroll through other people's imaginary, curated lives while sitting alone in our living rooms, wondering why we feel so empty.
Families are fracturing. Today, one in four children in America lives without a father in the house.
The fallout is staggering—higher rates of depression, addiction, poverty, suicide.
But here's what I want us to see: This isn't just about individual dysfunction or bad decisions. This is about absence. Presence matters. When a parent is gone, when community dissolves, when stability vanishes—absence leaves devastation in its wake. It leaves a hole.
When humanity rejected the Creator as King and Father, the whole world fractured. We've been living in the rubble of that absence ever since, searching for what we’ve lost.
When God is absent—when we have the building and the programs but not Him—dysfunction follows.
But when God is present among us, we will flourish.
This morning, we're asking: Is God present among us? And more than that—Is He welcome?
MOVEMENT 1: Redemptive Arc
MOVEMENT 1: Redemptive Arc
Over the past few weeks, I've been making the case that God is building for Himself a new humanity. If we are believers in Christ, that's our core identity.
Living as the people of God means everything in our lives revolves around this truth: we are now, first and foremost, citizens of the kingdom of heaven and members of God's household.
The last two weeks, we've been in Ephesians, looking at how our identity as God's people rests on the foundation of Christ as He's revealed through Scripture.
Today we continue in Ephesians 2, where Paul develops this image further. The household God is building isn't just a family learning to get along—it's becoming a temple, the dwelling place where God Himself lives by His Spirit.
Open your Bible or follow along as we read together from Ephesians 2:19–22.
[PAUSE FOR READING]
Paul is writing to Ephesus—a city dominated by the massive temple of Artemis, one of the ancient world's architectural wonders. His readers knew what temples were.
In the ancient world, temples weren't just impressive buildings. They were sacred spaces—the place where a god dwelt, where heaven touched earth, where worshipers came to meet their deity.
Some of Paul's readers were Jews who'd grown up with the Jerusalem temple. But many were Gentiles who'd only seen that temple from a distance—banned from entering, kept behind barriers in the Court of the Gentiles. Second-class. Outsiders.
And Paul tells them: "You're not outsiders anymore. God is building YOU—Jews and Gentiles together—into His dwelling place."
For a divided church learning to become one, this was radical.
The idea of God dwelling among His people runs all through Scripture. It's the unifying thread of the Bible's entire story—from Eden to the Tabernacle and Temple, from Jesus to Pentecost to the Church, and finally to the new creation.
God creates a world where He dwells with humanity. Humanity rebels and loses that place in His presence. Then God launches a plan to redeem it all—to make for Himself a new people who dwell with Him forever in a renewed creation.
EDEN
EDEN
And that story begins in a garden—but not just a garden. Eden was the first temple.
Because God's presence was there—walking with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day. Heaven and earth met there—no separation, no barrier.
Worship happened there—Adam was given the priestly task to "work and keep" the garden, the same words later used for priests in the temple.
And it was filled with sacred beauty—gold and precious stones marking it as God's dwelling place.
Eden wasn't just where people lived—it was where God lived with His people.
But sin shattered that intimacy. Humanity rebelled and was exiled. Cherubim with flaming swords blocked the eastern entrance. We were made for His presence, and the door was closed.
TABERNACLE/TEMPLE
TABERNACLE/TEMPLE
Yet God didn't abandon His plan for creation. He gave Israel the tabernacle, and later Solomon's temple—the focal point of their identity, where God's glory dwelt, where heaven touched earth again. At the dedication of Solomon’s temple the glory of the Lord—the Shekinah—filled the temple so powerfully that the priests couldn't even stand to minister (1 Kings 8:11).
God's visible, weighty presence had come to dwell among His people. The same thing happened, by the way, in the tabernacle at the end of the book of Exodus.
Remarkably, God designed these structures to echo Eden. Entrance from the east—like the garden. Gold covering the walls, precious stones on the priests—reflections of Eden's beauty. Cherubim guarding the Holy of Holies—just as they'd guarded Eden's gate.
Priests who "worked and kept" the sacred space—doing what Adam had done in the garden.
God was saying through these details: "Remember Eden. This is what I created you for—to dwell with Me in My presence." These buildings were never the destination—they were signposts pointing to God's true desire: to be near His people, to dwell among them.
POST-EXILE: WAITING FOR GLORY'S RETURN
POST-EXILE: WAITING FOR GLORY'S RETURN
But things changed in 586 BC. King Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonians sacked the city of Jerusalem and marched people off to captivity in Babylon. For 70 years, the temple lay in ruins. A small remnant eventually returned from exile and rebuilt the temple, but something was missing.
Temple life and the sacrifices resumed but the prophets recorded that the Shekinah glory never returned—not like it had in Solomon's day. The Holy of Holies was there, but it was empty. God's manifest presence wasn't dwelling there.
The Jewish people waited. They knew the promises: God would return to His temple. His glory would fill the earth. Something greater was coming. But when? How?
JESUS
JESUS
The stunning fulfillment of that promise came in Jesus, the Word made flesh.
John 1:14 says He "tabernacled among us"—literally. John adds: "We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son." The Shekinah that had left the temple? It was walking the streets in human flesh.
Jesus became the true temple—the place where heaven and earth met perfectly.
When religious leaders challenged Him about his authority in the temple courts, Jesus declared: "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up."
They thought He meant the building. He meant His body.
And that's exactly what happened. When Jesus died, the temple curtain tore in two, a demonstration the old temple's purpose was finished. When He rose three days later, the new temple stood before them: Jesus Himself, risen and glorified.
From that point forward, you didn't go to a building in Jerusalem to meet God. You came to Jesus. He is the dwelling place of God.
PENTECOST AND THE CHURCH
PENTECOST AND THE CHURCH
But the story doesn't end there. Because Jesus didn't just become the temple—He multiplied it.
50 days after the resurrection, the disciples were gathered in Jerusalem for Pentecost. Suddenly, the sound of a violent wind filled the house. Tongues of fire appeared and rested on each of them—the glory of God's presence in the Holy Spirit, once confined to the Holy of Holies, now rested on and filled ordinary people.
This is what Paul is declaring in Ephesians 2: "You are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by His Spirit."
Not bricks and mortar, but beating hearts.
Not a single location in Jerusalem, but a global community scattered across the world.
The Church isn't where we go to meet God—the Church is the Spirit-formed community of redeemed image-bearers, the people in whom God lives.
NEW CREATION
NEW CREATION
But even with Pentecost and the Church, the story isn't quite finished yet.
The final vision in Revelation shows a new heaven and a new earth—creation restored and made new again. But look what is said about the temple this time.
John writes, "I saw no temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple" (Revelation 21:22).
No temple building. None needed. Why?
John hears a loud voice from the throne: "Look! God's dwelling place is now among the people, and He will dwell with them" (Revelation 21:3). The entire world has become the temple.
This new city is Eden—but expanded.
In the beginning, there was a garden in the world—one sacred space where God dwelt. In the end, the entire WORLD now has become the garden-temple.
Heaven and earth are no longer separated. God's presence doesn't fill just one location—it fills everything. The whole creation becomes what Eden was always meant to be…and what humanity was meant to help create.
The circle is completed. From garden-temple to global temple. God at home with humanity forever, in a world remade as His dwelling place.
Movement 2: Caution
Movement 2: Caution
That's been God's plan from Eden forward: to dwell with His people.
And now, through Christ and by the Spirit, we are the house where the Father lives.
The question is: Is He welcome among us?
Because here's what Israel learned the hard way...
In Ezekiel 8-11, God takes Ezekiel on a tour of the temple—showing him the idolatry and corruption inside. Then Ezekiel watches as the glory of the Lord reluctantly leaves, step by step, pausing as if waiting for someone to call Him back.
God didn't want to go. He wanted to dwell with them. But they had replaced His presence with their preferences, His glory with their idols.
He was not welcome in His own home.
Centuries later, through the prophet Malachi, God says something stunning: "I wish someone would just lock the temple doors! Your worship is so empty and heartless, I'd rather you not bother" (Malachi 1:10).
Can you Imagine that? God saying, "Stop coming to My house if your hearts aren't in it." They had the building. They had the rituals. They went through all the motions. But God said, "I'd rather have nothing than this hollow performance."
The building stood. The rituals continued. But they were just keeping the lights on in an empty house.
Because God’s presence had left the building—His presence wasn't welcomed.
Movement 3: Application
Movement 3: Application
But God refused to give up.
Even though the human heart no longer desired Him, God would not abandon His plan to dwell with His people. So at Pentecost, He poured out His Spirit—not on a building, but into broken people.
Both the Jewish temple and the Great Temple of Artemis stood empty—busy with religious activity, but no divine presence.
Here's the truth: What God has always wanted isn't religious activity, impressive programs, or polished performances. His desire from the beginning has been intimate fellowship with the people He made and loves.
Here's the truth, church. What God has always wanted isn't empty religious activity, impressive programs, or polished performances. His desire from the beginning has been intimate fellowship with the people He made and loves.
And now, through Christ and by the Spirit, WE are that house. We are His temple, His dwelling place. The same presence that filled Eden, that blazed in Solomon's temple, that walked in Jesus—that presence now chooses to dwell in us, among us.
Friends, is He welcome here among us?
WHAT THAT MEANS
WHAT THAT MEANS
As the church, we bear witness to the risen Jesus through how we live together—through worship, proclaiming our allegiance to God, and through witness, proclaiming His lordship to the world. Not because we're impressive, but because He dwells here.
Think about the difference: One person comes to church asking, 'What will I get out of this?' Another comes asking, 'Will I meet Him here?' Same building. Same service. But one encounters programs—the other encounters God.
God is making for Himself a household where He dwells in joyful fellowship with us. He wants to be welcome in His house. And if that's God's deepest desire, shouldn't it become ours?
The Psalmist said in Psalm 27:4, "One thing I ask... to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life"
One thing. Not ten things. One thing: His presence.
How far do you think people would drive to be a part of a church where they encountered God, really encountered God among us people every week?
We are the house where the Father lives. Let’s make him welcome
INVITATION
INVITATION
Our identity isn't found in worship styles, traditions, or how things used to be done. Our identity comes from who dwells in us.
We are the temple of the living God. That's who we are. That's whose we are. And when we grasp that, the question isn't "Does this church meet my needs?"—it's "Is God at home here?"
So here's what I'm asking of us: Make His presence the one thing we hunger for above everything else.
So here's what I'm asking: Let’s make His presence the one thing we hunger for above everything else.
Not getting back to how it used to be. Not fixing what's broken. Not making the church grow or adding new programs. Those aren't bad desires—but they're not the main thing.
The main thing is Him.
I see this hunger stirring—Bible studies starting, discipleship groups forming, people saying "I want more." That's beautiful! Now let's focus that hunger together.
This week, before we walk into worship, pray: "Lord, I'm here for You. I want to meet You here." When we’re tempted to critique the music or the sermon length or when we see somebody else doing things in a way we don’t like, what it we stop and shift our focus back to Him: "God, help me pursue your presence more than my preferences.” That's what it means to make Him welcome.
When we hunger for His presence together, He binds us together. Not because we compromised or agreed on everything. But because when God makes His home in us, we discover we belong to the same Father.
THE VISION
So imagine with me:
What if six months from now, someone visits NPC and says, "I don't know what it is, but I felt something here I've never felt anywhere else"?
What if your neighbor asks, "Why do you seem so different lately?"
What if you wake up Monday morning and your first thought isn't anxiety about the week ahead, but "I can't wait for Sunday—to gather in worship with the family because the Father is in the house"?
That's what happens when we make Him welcome. Not just in this building—but in us.
We are the temple. Let's be a family where the Father is at home.
Pray with me.
