Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body. [1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (NLT)]
Since we both attended liturgical churches as girls, my friend and I were trying to recall the terms for the various parts of a traditional church building. We knew the foyer is called the narthex and the congregation sits the church’s nave. We also knew the altar rail usually separated the nave from the chancel in the front. It’s from the chancel that the service is conducted and where the altar, pulpit, and lectern are located. We even recalled that the sacristy was the room holding Communion supplies and linens. Since we were worshipping in a park that morning, my friend asked the location of our sanctuary. In historic usage, sanctuary and chancel were synonymous but, in modern usage, a sanctuary consists of the entire worship space of a church. With no building, we had no narthex, nave, or chancel but we did have a worship space; our sanctuary was a gazebo in a county park.
As God would have it, my next morning’s reading took me to today’s verse from 1 Corinthians. The Greek word usually translated as “temple” was naós, meaning a sanctuary, a divine dwelling-place, a temple, or place of divine manifestation. In Paul’s day, naós referred to the Temple proper, from the inner courts to the Holy Place with the seven-branched candlestick, golden incense altar, and showbread table all the way to the innermost area called the Holy of Holies—a place so sacred that it could be entered only by the High Priest once a year, on the Day of Atonement.
Having recently written about the lack of respect and reverence now common in a church sanctuary, Paul’s words gave me pause. The Temple and all its utensils—from the Ark, altars, and lamps to the snuffers, basins, oil, incense, and priest’s garments—were considered holy. Dedicated solely to serving God, they were not to be used for common or profane uses. If we are God’s sanctuary, a place of worship and the divine dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, do we treat ourselves with the reverence and respect due God’s temple? Are we solely dedicated to serving God? Are we ever used for vulgar, disrespectful, or profane purposes?
Do we ever desecrate our sanctuary by not treating our bodies properly? Do we treat them with the same care and regard we would Communion wafers, altar linens, or a Baptismal font? God’s sanctuary, however, is more than our physical bodies; it’s our entire being, our hearts and minds. Do we speak, read, look at, find humor in, think about, or do things we wouldn’t if we were in church? Do we always serve as a worship space of our amazing Triune God or just during prayers or worship service? Do we reflect the dignity, sanctity, and holiness that comes with being the house of God?
A great deal of responsibility comes with being God’s dwelling place. Just as the Temple was defiled in 168 BC when Antiochus Epiphanes sacrificed a pig on the altar of incense, our sins defile us. They are like obscene graffiti on a church walls, vandalism of the altar, defacement of the Bible, or leaving excrement on the pews. Preacher Harry Ironside reminds us, “How careful you and I ought to be that we grieve not that blessed One who dwells within, that we do not bring dishonor upon the name of the Savior who has sent His Spirit to live in our body.”
The Jews were so zealous about maintaining the purity of God’s sanctuary that a low fence separated the court of the Gentiles from the rest of the Temple mount complex. Gentiles and ritually unclean Israelites were forbidden, on pain of death, from passing through its gates to the interior areas—the sanctuary of the Temple. Are we that zealous about keeping His dwelling place within us—His sanctuary—pure and undefiled?
For that matter, our brothers and sisters in Christ also serve as a dwelling place of God. Do we treat them with the same reverence and respect due God’s sanctuary? We should!
While baking banana bread, I decided to add in the last of the walnuts I found in the refrigerator. After pouring the dough into the prepared pans, I spotted a few walnut pieces that hadn’t made the mixing bowl and popped them in my mouth. One taste told me they were rancid! Not only are rancid nuts horrid tasting but, if enough are consumed, they can make you sick! Just as there’s no way to get a little bit of yeast out of a lump of dough, there was no way to get every last bit of nut nastiness out of the bread. A mere cup of nuts managed to turn more than eight cups of what should have been sweet and delicious into something bitter and sour. As I emptied the pans into the garbage, I recalled a sermon illustration about a thirteen-year-old girl.
For a single-cell microorganism member of the fungus family, yeast is mighty powerful. When added to water and flour, it starts to grow and multiply as it ferments the sugars in the flour, releases carbon dioxide, and causes the dough to rise. Moreover, once added to something, yeast can’t be removed. When a small amount of old fermented dough called a starter or seor is kneaded into flour and water, it permeates the dough and makes it rise. Some of the newly leavened dough can be saved to become the starter for the next batch of bread and so on.
Last week, after singing we’d come in the opening hymn, we promised to go in the closing one: I the Lord of Sea and Sky. Originally written for a Roman Catholic ordination mass in 1981, it has found its way into many Protestant hymnals. As I sang the refrain, “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?” I thought of Samuel and Isaiah, both of whom were called by God and both of whom responded by saying, “Here I am.” I wonder if I would have responded as positively as did they. Like Moses, would I have protested or, like Jeremiah, say my age disqualified me? Would I simply have run away as did Jonah? Although Moses, Jeremiah, and even Jonah eventually answered God’s call, I’m not so sure I would have (although three days in the belly of a fish might have convinced me)!
I enjoy stopping for a short stroll on the boardwalk of a local nature preserve that is home to well over 100 gopher tortoises (a protected species) and a wide assortment of native plants. The boardwalk is low to the ground and has no railing because it’s not there to protect people from the alligators and snakes of the swamp; it’s there to protect the animals and their dry scrub habitat from people! Several signs are posted about not stepping off it onto the fragile landscape. When I spotted an absolutely beautiful prickly pear cactus in full bloom, I was disappointed it was out of decent photo range. Since mine had been the only car in the parking lot, I was tempted to disobey the posted signs. “I really want that photo! Who’d know? What harm could I do?” I asked myself. If I’d seen someone else stepping off the boardwalk, however, I would have admonished them for their lack of environmental concern! Recognizing sin’s whisper in my ear, I stayed put. Nevertheless, I realized how tempting it is to think my desires are more important than anything or anyone else.
Devotions of the Heart 