Holding Space to Dwell with God

The Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year A
Sermon for May 3, 2026

My friends, I speak to you today in the name of one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. Please be seated.

Happy Easter, Church of the Epiphany. Yes, this is the fifth week of our seven-week observance of Easter, our season of new life and resurrection. It’s good to be with you this morning. It feels like a lot of good things are happening around here, or at least around the church office; if you don’t feel that, just wait for the announcements today.

Now, in the midst of living life together, of our oh so busy lives here in the bustling metropolis of South Haven, I assume that few of you have time to keep up with social media trends. So let me share one with you, and not even all that recent of a trend. In November 2024, when nothing at all important was happening in the world, the movie Wicked was released in theaters. Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo headlined this movie that went on to make $758 million worldwide; Glinda and Elphaba were everywhere for a few weeks there. The soundtrack filled our car and countless others’ cars for months. “Defying Gravity” was the popular song that fall and winter. You could not escape it.

On their press tour, Grande and Erivo were inseparable, the two actresses who could really sing could also really hold press attention. It was a masterclass in memes and clips; they made Wicked a part of the national conversation during election and holiday season. One interview in particular went “viral,” as they say. The interviewer, Tracy Gilchrist of Out.com, she told the actresses this: “I’ve seen this week that people are taking the lyrics of Defying Gravity and really holding space, really holding space with that and feeling power in that.” Erivo appears taken aback at this statement, either in confusion or in awe, I’m not sure, but she then says, quietly, almost tearfully, “I didn’t know that was happening… that’s what I wanted.” Ariana Grande looks emotional too, and she tenderly grabs one of Erivo’s signature long fingernails. The two lock eyes, and a meme was born.

In that moment in 2024, the phrase “holding space” entered the public lexicon, the shared culture of those who are terminally online in the least, especially young people, but beyond them too. People were “holding space” with the lyrics of a song, which might be therapy-speak for taking time to consider them. The interviewer, Gilchrist, later put it this way: “For me, it means being in the moment, not being distracted, feeling something on a cellular level. I think you can hold space with lyrics of a song—one you’ve heard hundreds of times—and it can suddenly take on new meaning.” Holding space. Being in the moment. Not being distracted. Feeling something on a cellular level. Holding space.

In our busy, busy lives, lives built with endless distraction at our fingertips for many of us, it is rare for us to “hold space,” to take time, to pause, to reflect. This morning’s gospel passage certainly deserves that. Here in the fifth week of Easter, in Year A of our common lectionary, we are treated to John’s account of Jesus’s farewell to his disciples. These verses come after Maundy Thursday and the washing of feet, immediately after Jesus tells them he will be betrayed by Judas and denied three times by Peter, after he tells them to love one another well because he will “only be with them a little longer.” 

In that context, the words of the gospel are perhaps even more meaningful. Again, we have a much-beloved passage of scripture, one with plenty of quotes worthy of Hobby Lobby pillows or cross-stitch patterns. “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” “Believe in God, believe also in me.” “I am the way and the truth and the life.” These are the words known as Jesus’s farewell address by Bible commentators, this is what Jesus felt was so important to say that he said it in his last conversation with his friends, with his disciples.

They’re so important we often hear them at funerals too. This passage is one of the options many Episcopalians choose for the Gospel reading at their funerals. (As a fun side note, we have funeral planning worksheets in the office now, if you want to get your service planned and on record with us in less than 10 minutes of work. Super fun side note.) But yes, these words are often read at funerals, and many of us hear them in that context, especially: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places… I go to prepare a place for you.”

We read this in 2026, we read this at funerals, and some hear it as Jesus comforting the disciples like this: “Don’t worry, after I die, I’m going to build you mansions in the sky, where the streets are paved with gold.” But this morning, I’ll argue that’s not what the disciples would have heard. The word translated now as “dwelling places” has been translated as “mansions” before, but scholars today argue it’s closer to the word tent, or room, or abode, and they land on dwelling place to signify a relational place where we will abide with Christ, not a personalized, individual mansion.

When we read the beginning of this much-beloved passage together this morning in light of that difference, in light of Jesus telling them he is not building luxurious, private, isolating, mega-homes but instead going to prepare a place to be with his disciples… does it make any more sense? Not to Thomas! “Lord, what on earth? We don’t know where you’re going, what are you talking about? How can we know the way?” Many of us would be right there with Thomas. Make this all make sense, Jesus. Jesus, of course, answers: “I am the Way, Thomas. I am the way, the truth, and the life.” You see, the first-century church was not a creedal church, it was not a doctrinal church, and at this point in our story, it wasn’t a church at all. Jesus was Jewish, his friends were Jewish, and for first-century Jews, belief was not about intellectual assent to some assembled doctrines. For them, belief was much closer to trust… and to trust in someone meant that you would follow their ways, embody their teachings, their truth, and form your life to resemble their life. Jesus, he is the way, the truth, and the life, so to believe in him means what? To trust him, trust him enough that you follow his way, embody his truth, resemble his life.

To do this, to believe in Jesus like this, not as a statement of intellectual assent but as a way of life, well, it requires some intention. St. Teresa of Avila is one who understood this particularly well, a Carmelite nun from the 16^th century who emphasized poverty and contemplation. Now I don’t bring her up to argue we all need to be nuns and monks to follow Jesus, though it certainly couldn’t hurt. Instead, I know that St. Teresa begins her 1577 book The Interior Castle with these verses about dwelling places, about Jesus preparing a place to be with us. In her classic, Teresa has a mystical vision of the soul as a diamond castle within us, and she details a spiritual journey that involves plenty of prayer, doing good works, reception of God’s grace, and moments of deep contemplation. The culmination of this journey is a profound experience of the divine, dwelling presence, a transformative relationship with God. It is a journey that gets us there: one of prayer, of intention, of good works, of walking the way, and yes, of holding space for God.

Another of my favorite authors, James K.A. Smith, writes that we all follow something, we all believe in something, whether we think we do or not, and it is shown in the way that we live. Using Teresa of Avila’s metaphor then, we all have an interior castle. Someone’s going to move in. Who do we allow to live there? ...To take residence?

Before I close this morning, I want to point out that this passage can be read with painful exclusion at its core. “No one comes to the Father except through me” has been used as a bludgeon to get people to say “the sinner’s prayer,” to make a verbal commitment to Jesus but rarely to encourage anyone to walk in the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Instead, C.S. Lewis along with many others argue that this is one of the most inclusive passages in all of scripture: all who come to God are coming through Jesus, even if they don’t call him that. Our creeds, our doctrines, our traditions, our liturgies, they do not limit God’s salvific work in the world. They merely help those of us who love them find our own way to hold space, to profess our adoration, to find our path to the place, to the abode, where we can dwell with God now in this life, doing his good works, and for ages to come too.

Our opening collect this morning said it best: “Almighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting life: Grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life, that we may steadfastly follow his steps in the way that leads to eternal life.”

Friends, today, may we more fervently believe because we take the time to intentionally hold space to dwell with God, and may our belief change our lives today and every day, empowering us to go live in peace, loving and serving the Lord.

Amen.