(1)How lovely is your dwelling place,
LORD Almighty!
(2)My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
(3)Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
LORD Almighty, my King and my God.
(4)Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
I lived in Mississippi until I was 18; then went to college right next door in Alabama. I would still make trips home frequently, even when living elsewhere for a summer or three. The South is where I find connections; it’s where I find family. One strange thing that Rebecca and I noticed after living at the Grand Canyon for a year is that the more time we spent there, the more it started to feel like home. We met tons of awesome people and got a sort of pseudo-family, and it started to become a slight part of our identity. After moving back to the South (Atlanta), I'm honestly not sure where to call home. Family and a majority of friends are still here in the South, but it's hard to turn down the call of nature and openness.
If we jump back into history for a minute, many different Native American peoples have called the Grand Canyon home. Originally, hunter-gatherers came through chasing the game that we see all over the place here. The first group to establish houses here was a group called the Ancestral Puebloan who lived within the Canyon. They learned irrigation in this part of the nation and held ceremonial rituals. According to historians, they left the canyon around 1300 A.D. and moved south and west to find more natural resources. Their descendants are now called the Hopi.
Even though they had houses, the Ancestral Puebloan couldn’t necessarily call the Canyon their permanent home. After centuries of living here, there wasn’t enough food or supplies for them to continue their life. They still had to travel from place to place to find sustenance.
After about a century, more tribes began to move into the Canyon. The Hualapai tribes were here first, then the Havasupai, the Hopi, beginning their new culture, and most recently the Navajo. They all occupied a different part of the Canyon, normally at different time frames. For example, while the Havasupai were dwelling within the central Canyon, the Hualapai were making homes further to the west.
When you think about it, the Canyon really is a fantastic place to live in. There’s year-round water at the bottom, tons of wildlife for meat, clothing, and shelter, vegetation for further nutrition, and many different climates for summer or winter dwelling. If it’s too hot at the bottom, you can come to the top, and if it gets too cold at the top, just head on down. And in the midst of all of that, it’s one of the natural wonders of the world, and absolutely beautiful!
In our Scripture Lesson, the psalmist describes God’s dwelling place as lovely. This is something that gets lost in translation, but the real meaning of the word would be closer to well-loved or beloved. The psalmist is longing for God’s home, His dwelling place. He’s saying that he would love to be in the midst of where God dwells, where He abides. He knows that God’s home is the only place where he can find true life and true sustenance. He mentions birds finding their homes near God’s altar. God takes care of them just the same, too. Jesus used birds as an example when telling people not to worry about their life. The birds have a deep connection to God in reliance on food, water, and young. They can do nothing without God, whether or not they realize it.
That’s what home is: a place of deep connection. It’s where you find the highest relationships—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Right now I honestly still call the South, particularly Mississippi and Alabama, my home. It’s where the rest of my family normally is and most of my close college friends are. The common phrase “home is where the heart is” is absolutely true. It could be with family, friends, cultures, or even coworkers.
How do we build those connections to Heaven, in order to call it home? It’s right here: the Bible. We can start by reading about what God has done to show Himself to us. We can then look closer to get to know who He is. As we pray through Scripture, which is a really helpful practice by the way, we really see God. As we start to see who God is, we start to see His hand all over the place. Last night we were watching the sunset at the geology museum, and people began applauding after the sun went down. At first we were a little confused, feeling like it was a show performance. But they may have actually been onto something. We’re not entirely sure of their motives, but it’s an incredible way to think about seeing God work. They saw beauty in nature, and they showed some sort of gratitude, appreciation, and praise.
The psalmist says, “Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.” The more we make our home in God, the more we can’t help but praise. Those who make their home in God will find pure joy, real happiness. Their heart is with God, and their primary desire is His glory. Nothing brings greater joy for them than to be in His presence praising His name.
There’s an old Southern gospel song that opens with “This world is not my home; I’m just a-passing through.” Earth is just our temporary house, but our dwelling, our family, our home is with God. It’s what our soul longs for. God has blessed me to know a person who was the embodiment of this desire.
At the church I went to in Mississippi, there was a man named J.R. Pegues. He taught fifth grade boys Sunday school for more than fifty years, and he was one of the most incredible teachers ever. He encouraged all of us to memorize and truly learn Scripture and really work on quiet times, and he set that example himself. One Sunday he was in the hospital, and he had the guys brought to his room so he could teach the lesson from his hospital bed. He coughed one time when praying and said, “Excuse me, Lord,” because he was really having a conversation; his heart truly was with God. When people would ask him if he was going to retire from teaching, he would always say that he would teach until the Lord called him home. Not until he died, or until he felt like he couldn’t, or until he got tired of it. Until God called him home.
Well, one day in the fall of 2003, Mr. J.R. was called home. We had gotten word that morning that he was in the hospital, so we were praying all day for God to heal him. When we heard after school the same day that he had passed away, we were absolutely dumbstruck. The man who had had such a major impact on all of our walks of faith, and for some, our dad’s and granddad’s walks, was now gone from the Earth. At the visitation and funeral, though, it was more mixed feelings than I had ever seen or felt. No one wanted to see Mr. J.R. go because we didn’t want to lose such an amazing example of faith. At the same time, everyone, even his wife and children, could have a slight hint of joy in the Lord in knowing that he was where he always wanted to be.
Heaven was home for Mr. J.R. His soul yearned, fainted, cried out for God. His desire was to know God and to see Him one day. Now he is dwelling in God’s house and ever praising Him. I would like to encourage everyone here to strive to have that same desire, that same longing, to make Heaven your home. Home is not where we currently live. It’s not where family or friends are. It’s not where we are most comfortable. If God has forgiven us, if we have accepted Christ as our Savior, our home is in Heaven, an altar that cannot be shaken.
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