Churches have had a way of following me throughout my youth. In the years before my conversion, our family moved through several different towns, and oddly enough, near each home there was always a church. Our drives home from school were always marked by the presence of a church. Here in North Carolina, every time we visited Bond Park, on our way out, I was always struck by the red-brick church facing the park: St. Michael’s Catholic Church. Every weekend, I saw throngs of cars flowing through the parking lot, and a wistful longing tugged at my heart. What was it that people experienced there? I wondered. What was in there? Or rather, Who was in there?
Places of Worship
Now, many years later since my conversion, I have not forgotten that spirit of curiosity. While God meets us everywhere in our daily life, we encounter Him with special intensity in places of worship. One of the gifts of our Catholic faith is its deeply incarnational nature. We do not merely think or talk about prayer, but we live it tangibly in the sacraments, and of course most fully in the Holy Eucharist, where we receive the Lord Himself. Enhancing all this, the churches themselves offer a presence of holiness that extends its arms outward to all. There is a magnetic power to the physical reality of a church: the people who pass by, regardless of culture or upbringing, are always at risk of attraction.
Today many hold the idea that our relationship with God remains a purely subjective experience, yet the persistence of churches refutes that notion. A church building, particularly one with the Eucharist, radiates the presence of God to its surroundings. As a consecrated place of worship, where people gather to adore the living God, it declares unabashedly that worship matters; that something real and extraordinary happens when people come together to celebrate the Paschal mystery of Christ. Even in my life before faith, I knew that churches were very special places, if only because they expressed the desire of loving God.
God’s Dwelling Place with Men
Today’s reading from the Old Testament reveals to us the happy truth that a church embodies not only our thirst for God, but His desire to dwell with us. The passage relates to us the great prayer of Solomon as he dedicates the newly built temple to the Lord. After seven years of construction, the Temple was finally complete, and now at last the people of Israel could look to a place where they might encounter the glory of the Lord. No longer would worship rely upon a moving tent, but now could take anchor in a holy place consecrated to the Lord. Here, the people might beg to encounter the Lord, and He would dwell with them. In a moving prayer, Solomon entreats the Lord that for all future generations, the people might always bring contrition of heart to the temple and find mercy.
Where Heaven and Earth Meet
Put simply, places matter. While God may be found everywhere, we cannot simply generalize Him to all places, and we cannot approach prayer as something only diffused throughout our day. Rather, God invites us into a concentrated encounter with Him in the church, where we participate in the Paschal mystery. There is something about the specificity, the tangibility of a solid church which strengthens our worship. At every Mass we participate in the meeting of heaven and earth—no small miracle indeed—and thus the place where this happens merits our honor.
Let us take to prayer this extraordinary reality that God comes to meet us in the physical reality of our church. His presence fills and sanctifies the space where we worship. With the psalmist, may we acclaim with joy: How lovely is your dwelling-place!
