Hephzibah [My delight is in her]: How Great Thou Art

Last night we had Salt Company, our college ministry, in a building on Market Street. The building is known as, "Old Brick," and was originally a Presbyterian church, built in 1856. It's construction was fairly simple as far as churches go-heavy wooden doors opening to an entrance with stairs that led into a large, open sanctuary. The interior was plain-a few stained glass windows, a few woodcarving details, dark wooden cross-beams supporting a high ceiling and white walls. In the front of the sanctuary, there was a raised, wooden platform where Salt's worship team was set up for the evening.

As the first worship set opened, I noticed thin electrical wires weaving their way down the woodcarvings of the altar--this building definitely wasn't constructed with the purpose of hosting a band with electrical guitars and digital keyboards. But I couldn't help but be in awe of the place that God had prepared for us. Because, in truth, when this structure was being built those 155 years ago, He knew that we'd be using it on February 9th, 2011. In the midst of a contemporary worship set, we were joining our voices with the songs of believers old enough to be our great-great-great grandparents. Our worship was mingled in this shared space, in this sanctuary built for Him.

The interior of Old Brick--obviously not @ Salt Company...

In scripture, Paul talks about how God "does not live in temples built by human hands" (Acts 17:24). Jesus mentions this too, when he meets the Samaritan woman at the well. She asks him a question about the proper place to worship-her people's custom of going to the mountain, or the Jewish temple in Jerusalem-and he answers back in the most peculiar way: “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem." (John 4:21)

I've been thinking through this vein of ideas this week...Our church plant announced on Sunday that they've started a building fund for the future of our little body of worshipers. Currently, we rent spaces for our Sunday services and Wednesday night Salt Company. We're like church gypsies-without a permanent place about which to say, "ours" or "home."

I've got to be honest, my immediate reaction to the announcement of a building fund was a bit of disappointment--the beginning of the end of our "church plant newness." Someday we'll have that permanence and tie to something structural. And I was a bit sad about that. I've really enjoyed the flexibility, adaptable-ness & change that not having a building produces. (I'm sure the setup crews would have a slightly different viewpoint!) Terms like "organic" have surfaced a lot in my vocabulary lately---The Church as a living body-not tied to a building---when you don't have a church building, it's a lot harder for people to confuse The Church (the body of Christ) with the church (the building). There's something wonderfully exciting about a lack of permanence in your location.

But, last night I remembered, that there is something about a building. There's a sense in which, as you read about David's heart for building a great temple to the Lord, you realize that David wants to honor Him, to show how glorious He is through a semi-permanent representation of just a small part of His splendor & glory. A sanctuary, maybe more than anything else, is a space set apart for His people to gather and proclaim that He is worthy of worship.

We won't always know how that sanctuary will be used. I mean, can you imagine a worshiper from 1856 present in our college-student gathering from last night? He or she would never have been able to imagine the type of worship, the culture of His people in this present context. But there is a unity in sharing that space in the honor of Him. There is a mingling of spirits in the worship that Old Brick has seen in the last 155 years. There's something to having a reminder of all the worshipers who have come before you. And the unity that flows of out that is a beautiful thing.

So, maybe a building isn't such a bad thing after all. It's actually pretty exciting to think about the worshipers that will follow us, the people that will use the space we set apart for His glory. Their voices will join with ours and all the ones that have come before us.

We sang a part of this song last night-It's amazing that the One we worship never changes.

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,

Thy power throughout the universe displayed.