One of my summer assignments during seminary training was to do math and science tutoring in a summer camp for children who lived in one of the poorer neighborhoods in a city of our diocese.  Two other seminarians were assigned to the same summer ministry experience. 

The children in the summer camp were somewhat mystified by the presence and significance of seminarians, and one of their first questions to us was, “Where do you stay?”  It seemed like an unusual question until I reflected on the events common in those children’s lives. 

Some of those children spent the summer with their mothers, other with grandmothers or aunts.  It was a rare experience for them to live in the same household with their fathers, but not an uncommon experience to spend time in the care of the county’s Child Protective Services. 

They knew that their place of residence could change at any moment.  They assumed that everyone (including seminarians), lived with the same uncertainty and instability that they experienced.  Their question, “Where do you stay?” was about how we dealt with the challenges posed by an unpredictable world.  I think, as well, that they were seeking to find some empathy for their unenviable living situations. 

John’s Gospel addresses this issue of the often-erratic nature of world events.  In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus tells his disciples, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.” (Jn 14:23) 

The image of a dwelling place figures prominently in John’s Gospel.  The Prologue of the Gospel says that the incarnate Word of God “made his dwelling in our midst.” (Jn 1:14)  Addressing the crowds in Jerusalem, Jesus said, “If you dwell in my word, you will be my true disciples.” (Jn 8:31)  On another occasion, he said, “I came into the world as light, so that everyone who believes in me might not dwell in darkness.” (Jn 12:46)  In the lines preceding today’s reading, he said to his disciples, “You know the Spirit of Truth, because it dwells with you, and will be in you.” (Jn 14:17) 

The dwelling place that Jesus offers his disciples is not, of course, a physical residence but a metaphor that refers to what he calls “peace” in other passages of the Gospel. (cf Jn 20:19)  It might come as a surprise to some, but the experience of instability in the lives of those children in the summer camp where I worked so many years ago provides a good way to understand the dwelling place and the gift of peace Jesus offers his disciples.  Further, those children’s assumption that the experience of insecurity is universal is more valid than one might admit. 

If asked, most people in this parish would claim to enjoy stable, secure lives.  Certainly, compared to the lives of the children of the unemployed or underemployed, this is true.  But, how true is it, really? 

At no time in human history has there been an absence of radical social change, economic uncertainty, political strife, conflict, or war.  Even the most privileged and stable lives are habitually conditioned by uncertainty and insecurity.  John’s Gospel accurately portrays the created world as thoroughly conditioned by change and decline.   

The Gospel reveals a further dimension to the instability of the world; the fallen world is incapable of dwelling in God’s presence.  The repeated message of John’s Gospel is that those who dwell in the world will always be carried on the currents of change and degradation. Those who dwell in Jesus, however, are redeemed from the degradation of the ephemeral world. 

Making one’s dwelling with Jesus and in his word appears to be a very desirable way to live.  One must keep in mind, however, that this redeemed life is not an automatic result of baptism, religiosity, or church attendance; nor does one receive it simply by wanting it.  Rather, it is a way of life that results from remaining consciously in Jesus’ presence and actively practicing his teachings. 

Catholic spirituality has developed many ways to “dwell” in Christ.  An easily accessible way to dwell with Jesus and his word is lectio divina. This form of prayer was developed by Benedict of Nursia for use by the monks in his community.  Benedictine monks gather for community prayers throughout the day but spend most of their day engaged in work to support the monastery.  Lectio divina is a type of prayer that can be done while pursuing a normal day’s activities.  It consists of choosing a short passage of Scripture, no more than a few words, and repeating those words to oneself throughout the day. 

If you were to practice lectio divina with today’s Gospel reading, you might choose the phrase “we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.” (Jn 14:23)  You could repeat those words while you receive Holy Communion, at the Dismissal and Blessing at the end of Mass, when you’re back at home, and at the end of your day.  Nothing else is required; repetition throughout the day creates a constant awareness of God’s presence and promises. 

This form of prayer is very easy to do because it utilizes an action that everyone does all the time.  Everyone’s thoughts dwell somewhere; the unpredictable nature of the world can cause our thoughts to dwell on what is challenging or distasteful.  Jesus words, by comparison, allow us to dwell on what is redeeming and unchanging. 

“Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.” (Jn 14:23)  These words aren’t intended merely to make us feel good; they are intended to make us become good.  That redeeming transformation occurs when we make the conscious effort to dwell with God.