Where God Lives
1: The Way to Begin Again | Scene 6: I'm on My Own
A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them.
- Mark 2:1-2
Did you ever think about where Jesus lived?
Mark refers to “the house” in Capernaum—implying Jesus had a regular place where he hung his hat. What did he do to relax? Did he cook? What did he hang on his walls?
Was it Peter’s house? Jesus’ house? We don’t know for certain, but it’s unlikely Jesus owned a house in the way we think of homeownership today. Most scholars describe him as an itinerant teacher—constantly on the move, staying in various homes. Yet he wasn’t homeless. He had a base of operations, likely Peter’s house or a shared family home.
Here’s what’s fascinating: Jesus was the same God who never sleeps or slumbers, yet he got exhausted. Power could go out of him. He needed to recharge. He needed a place to rest his head.
When Jesus returns to Capernaum, the crowds are even bigger than before. Mark notes that people were crowding outside the door, craning their necks for a peek inside. New people passing by join the crowd just to see what’s going on.
A spectacle is what’s going on.
The people of Jesus’ day lived in the shadow of one of the most spectacular structures ever built—the Second Temple, completed by King Herod not long ago. It was an architectural marvel and a feat of engineering. Yet, the story suggests that the Second Temple had not stirred hearts to repentance nor brought people back to God.
What was once spectacular had become just another part of the landscape.
Now, people gather at Jesus’ door—not to marvel at a building, but to encounter a person.
They aren’t coming for a concert or cathedral experience. They’re coming because Jesus is different.
I once worked with a church music director who loved to talk about “God’s house.” Her words were both pastoral comfort and kind of theologically inadequate.
Much of the Old Testament is shaped by the incorrect human assumption that God lived exclusively in a specific location—that to be in proximity to God, we had to go to that location. Never-ending Middle East battles are similarly shaped by the same assumption.
But God cannot be contained within four walls and a roof.
King David wrote:
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.”
— Psalm 139:7–10
God is ridiculously, absurdly too big for a house. The entire universe with all its galaxies cannot contain God’s majesty.
Yet… God agreed to meet people in a tabernacle, to talk to priests in a Holy of Holies. Why?
For our sake.
It is for our sake that God had a physical home.
For our sake that God took on a physical body.
For our sake that God experienced exhaustion and heartache.
God constrained himself so people could understand God. So they could get close, feel comfort, abide with him. God met people where they were: in a home with mud walls and a roof in first-century Galilee on the edge of a highway. Just a regular place at a regular time.
In an age of AI, everything is awesome. But sometimes, when everything is awesome, nothing is awesome. We see the Grand Canyon on our phones... and yawn. In an age of manufactured wonder, what truly inspires isn’t size but authenticity.
The church has always been known for spectacle—rock concerts in worship today, massive choirs and towering cathedrals in previous eras. For centuries, architects have sought to create awe and wonder, perhaps as a way to capture the spirit of moments like this crowded house in Capernaum.
While sanctuaries and expressions of awe may be helpful, a true sense of holy spectacle only comes with an authentic encounter with Jesus.
Jesus opted for connection over spectacle.
We can find the presence of Jesus in concerts and cathedrals. We can also find it in little huts and moments when people sit at the feet of the Holy One. The real awe isn’t the size of the crowd around Jesus. It’s the closeness of friends gathered in His name.
No longer do we need to go someplace to find Jesus. Right now, you can find the risen Lord in a sanctuary. But you can also find the Lord anywhere you call out to him.
Jesus is not constrained by four walls. Jesus is Lord of the entire universe.
And he meets us wherever we are.
Pray
Lord, I want to hang out with you and know you. Help me see that you are with me now, wherever I am. Show me your presence. Give me a heart that looks for you and moves toward you. Thank you for inviting me to dwell with you. Amen.
Live It
Space #1: If you need connection, how might you create space for Jesus in your life today?
Space #2: If you are a disciple, how might you best help create space for Jesus to connect with someone else?
Make space. Literally. Plan to connect with someone. It doesn’t have to be fancy. Pizza and conversation can be sacred ground. The point is to create space where someone else feels seen and safe.
Where We Are: Season 1 | Scene 6 of 6