Where Does God Choose to Dwell?

Made Flesh

Where does God choose to dwell, and why?

As a young girl I was trained to look for God in very specific places. God’s presence, I was told, was most evident in impressive church buildings, successful ministries, and in people who held positions of spiritual leadership. Yet Scripture paints a different picture. Again and again, God appears in unexpected places. God shows up in the wilderness, in exile, among shepherds and fishermen, among foreigners, among women, and among the poor. God seems remarkably drawn to the margins and Matthew 10 continues that pattern.

In the verses leading up to Matthew 10:40-42, Jesus is preparing his disciples to be sent into a world that may not welcome them. He speaks candidly about rejection, conflict, and the cost of discipleship. Then, almost unexpectedly, he concludes with a reflection on welcome:

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”

At first glance, this sounds like a simple lesson on hospitality. Be kind. Receive others well. If possible, maybe even offer up a cup of cold water. But Jesus is doing something much deeper than teaching us about the beauty of hospitality. He’s revealing where exactly God chooses to dwell.

Years ago, I worked at a large multi-campus church where the pastor categorized congregants as either deposits or investments. Some people, he explained to me, were deposits. The church would pour time, energy, and resources into them, but they would never really give much back. Others were investments. The more the church invested in them, the greater the return would be. These were often people with influence, leadership capacity, social capital, or financial resources. Unfortunately, that logic isn’t unique to churches. In fact, it shows up in almost every corner of our society. We’re constantly encouraged to evaluate relationships based on return on investment and gravitate toward people who can advance our goals, expand our networks, or increase our influence. 

Even then, something about that kind of distinction unsettled me. Looking back, I think it was because something in me recognized that this is not the economy of the kingdom. Jesus never seems particularly interested in calculating return on investment. He consistently directs our attention toward people society tends to overlook. He refuses to evaluate people according to what they can contribute to the success of an institution. Notice that the passage doesn’t say that God will primarily be found in grand temples or among wealthy givers…not even among the religious elite. Instead, Jesus identifies himself with those being received. God dwells in those who are being welcomed. What a striking reversal! 

Many of us – especially those working in ministry, nonprofits, or social-service settings – have been formed to see ourselves primarily as the givers. We assume that we’re the hosts, helpers, teachers, and problem solvers. Even with the best intentions, we can begin dividing the world into those who have something to offer and those who need something from us; but Jesus refuses this kind of division. In this passage, there’s no discussion of what the disciples can provide in return. The act of welcome itself becomes sacred because the one being received bears the presence of Christ. 

This has incredibly profound implications for those of us who work alongside poor and marginalized communities. Too often, even our helping systems unconsciously assume that value flows in one direction. Jesus completely disrupts this framework and prompts us to ask instead: What if the presence of God isn’t found primarily in the one extending hospitality but in the one receiving it? What if the poor are not simply recipients of ministry but bearers of divine presence? What if those whom society deems powerless are actually the ones revealing Christ to us most clearly? 

In God’s economy, even the smallest act of welcome becomes holy when we take a moment to see who stands before us. Perhaps this is why Jesus consistently moved toward those on the margins. He understood that God’s presence can be found in places that require a double-take. 

So, where does God choose to dwell?

According to Matthew 10, God dwells in those who are received. God is present in the vulnerable, the dependent, the stranger, the disciple who arrives with empty hands. And whenever we make room for them, we may discover that we have made room for God. In welcoming one another, we may find ourselves standing on holy ground.

Dwelling Among Us

What would change in our world if we welcomed each person we met as a bearer of sacred worth and divine presence?