May 10, Sixth Sunday of Easter (1 John 5:1-6; John 15:9-17)
An ancient definition of God says that God is an intelligible circle whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.
After leaving the captivity of Egypt, the people of Israel continued to look for sacred things to worship, sacred places to worship, a home for God. The Israelites have assimilated the practices of the Egyptians—their images, their rites, their prayers for appeasement—in spite of the Abrahamic covenant. It has, after all, been about ten generations.
God leads the people Israel out of Egypt, through the wilderness, accompanying them (a new thing!) as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. God is in the midst of the people, leading them, dwelling in their midst. And yet the people continue to forge images to worship, to look for God on holy mountains, to look for God at sacred springs. Even as God is speaking the words, “I will dwell among the Israelites, and I will be their God,” the people at the mountain’s foot are casting the golden calf.
The temple in Jerusalem becomes for many once again the place where God dwells. Even the disciples at the transfiguration of Jesus want to build a shrine to the event. The inclination to limit God to one place, one location—perhaps to one nation, one people, one creed—is strong.
