Advent 4

 Many adult children are thinking of building a backyard home for their aging parents. These homes, often called “granny pods,” are an alternative to putting an aging relative in an expensive assisted living facility. Some are full of medical technology, and are specifically designed for senior citizens. For example, many granny pods have safety features that come standard with the construction, such as hand railings, defibrillators and first aid supplies. Some have lighted floorboards and floors made of soft, porous material covered in thick carpeting, thus minimizing damage from falls.

Some granny pods have interactive video and devices that monitor vital signs, like blood pressure and blood glucose, and transmit real-time readings to caregivers and physicians. Floor-level cameras and sensors alert caregivers to a fall, the toilet seat records weight and temperature, a hammock-like chair lift transports a resident from bed-to-bathroom, and a computer reminds residents when it is time to take medications.

With the cost of residential care skyrocketing, it makes sense for many couples to pull their aging parents closer, build or buy a small cottage and reap some equity benefits at the same time. This arrangement is good for parents, too, who often resist moving into an institution.

Children building homes for parents. It’s almost as common as parents building, buying or helping to finance homes for their children when the kids — with freshly minted university diplomas or newly married — are just starting out on the adult journey of life.

Something similar is happening in today’s Old Testament lesson.

King David is thinking of building a house, a house for the Lord, for his heavenly parent.

It would seem to be a sweet gesture. But as with many parents who resist or resent their children telling them what to do, and don’t like it when they connive to reduce their independence, God pushes back, and basically tells David to forget it. God doesn’t want to live in a house in David’s backyard.

David meanwhile has built himself a house of cedar (v. 2) and thinks that it is not enough that he has brought the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. He says to his prophet pal, Nathan: “See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent” (v. 2). The inference is clear: He lives in a sumptuous and stable structure in relative ease, while God has been shunted to a flimsy, impermanent warehouse of canvas and twine.

The situation would make any self-respecting child a bit guilty — treating his parent this way. Yet, why did David really want to build a house or temple for the Lord?

It’s hard to know the king’s motives. Perhaps he simply wanted to express his gratitude. God’s hand had been on him since Samuel anointed him in the presence of his brothers and his father Jesse (1 Samuel 16).

Expressing gratitude to God is a good thing. Like most parents, God tries to teach his children to say “please” and “thank you.” Later, David himself will write: “Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. Give thanks to him, bless his name” (Psalm 100:4). Yes, it is a good thing to say “thank you.”

But perhaps God senses that David is attempting more than a thank-you note. Maybe he’s also trying to pay God back, to settle a debt. Powerful men like David don’t like being indebted to anyone, not even to their God. Is this what is happening here?

Do we ever think that we’re sort of square with God?

We tend to think this way. If we’ve done no harm, been faithful to our spouse, volunteered for various nonprofits, been generous with our financial resources, never kicked the cat, never evaded the IRS, never used profanity — well, what could God possibly say? It’s like we present an invoice to God and say, “I think we’re good. We’re done here.” Now we can walk away.

Whatever David’s motives, God doesn’t see it this way. God doesn’t want a house. At least, God doesn’t want David’s house. God makes it clear: He never asked for a house. He doesn’t want a house. “I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’” (vv. 6-7).

David was treating God as a client. The one who builds the house is greater than the tenant of the house. God sees through David. There’s David, the man of action and mighty deeds. He’s going to make decisions for God. He’s going to keep God in his place. He’s going to take care of God. He’s going to put God somewhere so that he’ll always know where God is and what God is doing. He’s going to manage God. He’s going to please God as any child wishes to please a parent by showing the parent that he has outstripped the parent, has advanced and gone beyond the parent.

God will have none of it, and brings the housebuilding plans to an abrupt halt. And although God will later approve plans for a temple built by David’s son, right now he has a lesson or two to teach the king.

God doesn’t need to be sheltered. Perhaps this is why the tabernacle never had a roof. To put a roof on the structure would suggest that God needs protection, that God is not much more than an idol made of wood or stone. No, we don’t need to protect God in any way, shape or form. We are not going to cage God.

God doesn’t need to be assisted with his living arrangements. God reminds David that he has never uttered a complaint about the tabernacle. God has never expressed dissatisfaction with his “house.” God doesn’t need his children telling him what to do. He is fine, thank you very much. God will not permit David the satisfaction of feeling like he’s helping God, giving God a hand, lending assistance for someone who can no longer help himself. God reminds David that he, God, is firmly in control of his powers and faculties.

Now, God turns the tables. God tells David that although David cannot and will not build a house of God, God will build a house for him: “Moreover, the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house” (v. 11).

The house that God will build for David is not a house of cedar, marble and precious stones. Such a house, no matter how well-built, is still subject to decay and destruction. No, God is going to build a dynasty! It’s a house that will last eternally. Notice that God uses the word “forever” three times when describing this new “house” (2 Samuel 7:13, 16). God says, “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever” (v. 16).

That brings us to Advent. It’s only a few days until we celebrate the birth of the Messiah, the One who is of the royal house of David. In today’s Gospel, the angel Gabriel says to Mary: “You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:31-33).

God, who rejected David’s plan’s for a house, will settle into a “house” of an entirely different order, a house of flesh and bone. And he will reign forever and ever.