Our Dwelling Places
We See God In The Faces Of People We Dwell With
by Eric Elkin
“I’m asking God for one thing,
only one thing:
To live with him in his house
my whole life long.
I’ll contemplate his beauty;
I’ll study at his feet.”
Sunday night is popcorn night. This is a tradition in our house. For me, it is a tradition at least three generations old. These evenings have become a sacred time for Peggy and me. A chance to quietly dwell together in our own home before a busy week takes us in opposite directions. Sunday night is my favorite night of the week.
Popcorn night always includes a movie. This past Sunday night we watched the Bruce Springsteen documentary, “Letter To You.” It was an emotional journey I was not prepared to take. The whole time I am watching it, I felt on the verge of tears. By looking back on his own life, Springsteen invited me to see my own.
The Boss is old. The young man who raced across concert stages singing Born to Run, is gone. He has been replaced by an old man who has difficulty turning his head. His weathered and worn face is a reflection of his soul. Wealth and fame have not protected him from pain and loss. Watching it, I was thankful he had not tried to hide his being behind Botox.
It hit me, as I watched the show, the house Bruce Springsteen loves to dwell in is a recording studio. Yet, it is not the studio that is the dwelling place. The house is the E Street Band. The friends, musicians, managers, and community this band created in his life. This is where the Boss sees the presence of God in his life.
“[Ghosts] was specifically written, I’d say, using my memories of George and my youth and what it felt like if you had a close friend who you knew all the clothes they wore, the books they read, the records they listened to and all of those things meant something to you,”
Watching Bruce Springsteen reminisce about growing up on the Jersey Shore reminded me of our time in New York. Those were the first years of our marriage. We were young. We loved living at the camp and we loved the people we dwelled with there.
This past year several former campers and staff members from the camp have died. The news of their passing created a lingering sense of loss in my soul. The funny thing is, I was not really friends with any of the people who died. Our relationship was something different, yet equally as deep.
We shared community together. In this community, regardless of personal affection, we laughed, fought, prayed, worked, served, and dwelled together. They were the most difficult times of my life and I miss them. Most of all, I miss the people I shared them with. The loss I feel is that specific community will never dwell together again.
Sitting on the couch watching “Letter To You,” I renewed in the reality Peggy is my dwelling place. We have lived in many different houses, but she is the place I want to live all my days. It also dawns on me, people have always been the house I live in. It is in the faces of others that I most see God. Perhaps this is why the show was so emotional. A remembering I can pray anywhere, but apart from the people I dwell with, life is empty.
Click to read Psalm 27
Reflection Questions:
What was the most formative years in your life?
Who were the people who made those years formative?
What did you learn about yourself along the way?
How are people the face of God for you?
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