2. Chronicles 5,1-5.12-14
Kantate
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of us. Amen
Bible reading: 2. Chronicles 5,1-5.12-14
1 When all the work Solomon had done for the temple of the LORD was finished, he brought in the things his father David had dedicated—the silver and gold and all the furnishings—and he placed them in the treasuries of God’s temple.
2 Then Solomon summoned to Jerusalem the elders of Israel, all the heads of the tribes and the chiefs of the Israelite families, to bring up the ark of the LORD’s covenant from Zion, the City of David.
3 And all the Israelites came together to the king at the time of the festival in the seventh month.
4 When all the elders of Israel had arrived, the Levites took up the ark,
5 and they brought up the ark and the tent of meeting and all the sacred furnishings in it. The Levitical priests carried them up;
12 All the Levites who were musicians—Asaph, Heman, Jeduthun and their sons and relatives—stood on the east side of the altar, dressed in fine linen and playing cymbals, harps and lyres. They were accompanied by 120 priests sounding trumpets.
13 The trumpeters and musicians joined in unison to give praise and thanks to the LORD. Accompanied by trumpets, cymbals and other instruments, the singers raised their voices in praise to the LORD and sang: “He is good; his love endures forever.” Then the temple of the LORD was filled with the cloud,
14 and the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the LORD filled the temple of God.
Dear congregation,
the new temple is finished. Seven years had passed from the laying of the foundation stone to its dedication. A detailed account can be found in the First Book of Kings. Now the Chronicler tells the story once again.
We know this well: a story has already been told — and yet someone tells it again. Not necessarily because the first version was wrong, but because suddenly something else has become important.
That is true here as well:
The Chronicler is not only interested in the fact that the temple was built. He is interested above all in what makes a building a house of God.
What fills a temple with life? How does God’s presence become tangible?
What turns stones into a place of encounter with God?
A week after our congregational meeting, I was very glad to receive this sermon text. We did not decide to build a temple or renovate the church. Yet our church grounds and community rooms are also part of our own “temple complex.”
And in many ways this sermon text speaks into what we reflected on during the past week.
King Solomon had a vision: A great and impressive building that would make the significance of Israel visible.
A building dedicated to God.
A place where people encounter God.
A place where people live out their faith and find strength for their lives.
Yes, we share this vision. That is the purpose of our grounds and our buildings. Of course, our buildings cannot be compared to the historical significance of the temple. But that is not the point. For the Chronicler makes one thing clear:
The finished building is not the climax.
What matters is that this house is now dedicated to its true purpose.
And in doing so, the Chronicler tells of four things that can also guide us as a congregation.
- Solomon brought in everything that his father David had consecrated
Solomon builds on what came before — just as we do. We also continue what others have built before us.
Solomon does not invent faith anew. Neither do we.
Solomon places himself within a tradition: his father David had already made plans for the temple. Tradition means: Things do not begin with us.
We build on what others before us believed, hoped for, and discovered.
What David had consecrated retained its place.
This matters deeply to me:
I am not thinking only of German ancestors or missionaries who came here.
I am also thinking of the fact that our Christian faith cannot be imagined without the Jewish faith.
And at the same time — just as importantly — the Chronicler also tells of change.
Not everything remains as it always was.
Not everything old must be preserved simply because it is old.
Preservation and renewal go hand in hand.
- Solomon assembled all the elders, the heads of the tribes, and the leaders of the families
Solomon gathers everyone: Representatives of religion and society. Priests and Levites, but also those who carry responsibility within society.
Solomon opens the temple to all — not only to the pious. That is what should happen in the temple: A place where differences do not have to disappear, but lose their power to divide.
In the temple, it does not matter from which tribe someone comes.
Nor from which family or mission tradition.
Nor whether someone is prince or beggar.
Together, all are God’s people.
And this becomes especially visible in the shared singing and music-making.
- “It was as if one were sounding trumpets and singing”
Today’s sermon not only fits wonderfully with our building plans.
It also fits beautifully with Cantate Sunday — with choir and brass band, with our guest conductor, and with everything that music can awaken within a congregation.
At the dedication of the temple there were 120 trumpeters. There were singers.
There were cymbals, harps, and stringed instruments.
And yet the Chronicler says: “It was as if they were one.”
That is a beautiful image. Not uniformity — but harmony. Many voices remain distinct.
Many instruments remain different. And precisely in that diversity something shared emerges. No one can create harmony alone. Harmony is possible only together.
Anyone who has ever sat in a concert hall before a performance knows the sound:
Musicians unpack their instruments. Someone plays scales.
Somewhere a trumpet sounds too loud. Violins are trying things out.
The sound seems chaotic. And then comes the moment:
The conductor raises the baton. Everyone begins listening to one another.
And suddenly many separate voices become music. Not because everyone plays the same note and melody, but because they listen to one another and play together.
Perhaps this is also a task and a metaphor for us as a congregation. For harmony emerges where people listen to one another. Someone asks: Am I drowning everyone else out?
Do others still have room to be heard? Or am I myself so quiet and hesitant that my own voice disappears completely? Harmony requires both: the courage to contribute,
and the ability to step back. And we probably all know this: the loud and the quiet voices in congregational singing. Some are annoyed by those who sing too strongly. Others by those who hardly open their mouths at all. But perhaps the point is not that everyone should become the same. Perhaps the true miracle of congregation is this:
that different voices — loud and quiet alike — can sing together of God’s goodness.
And what matters most is what they sing: “God is good, and his mercy endures forever.”
They praise God. They thank God.
For a moment, worries, crises, and conflicts fade into the background.
That is courageous. Instead of despairing over everything, instead of allowing worries to dominate them, they praise God.
And where many people together find that courage, something happens:
- “Then the house of the Lord was filled with a cloud”
Suddenly God’s presence fills the temple. No one can make that happen. No one can organize or produce it. Yes, people can build. People can plan. People can sing and make music. But the Spirit of God cannot be summoned at will.
And yet the text tells us: Where people seek God together, where they give thanks and praise, where they journey together — space opens for God’s presence.
Even priestly service fades into the background because God’s glory fills everything.
That is the true renewal. No temple, no deck, no Treffpunkt, no new kitchen
can guarantee God’s presence.
It remains a gift. The goodness of the Lord each day remains a surprise.
And perhaps this is the most important reminder for us today:
It is not our buildings that make us a congregation. Not our projects. Not even our music.
But rather that many different voices together sing of God’s goodness.
Where that happens, a room can become more than a building.
There the Spirit of God can dwell. May God grant us such harmony —
and remain faithful to us.
And then let us joyfully plan and build, sing and pray, each one according to their gifts and possibilities, loud and quiet, humorous, rough-edged and quirky — yet guided by goodness and mercy.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.