The Temple God Inhabits Text: Isaiah 66:1-4
Introduction: The Edifice Complex
As the prophet Isaiah brings his magnificent prophecy to a close, he addresses a people with a peculiar temptation. This is the temptation of the religious man, the churchman, the one who has the liturgy down pat. It is the temptation to believe that God can be managed, contained, and pleased by the right external structures. The exiles were returning from Babylon, and the first thing on their minds, quite rightly, was the rebuilding of the Temple. It was the center of their national and spiritual life. It was God's house. But in their zeal to rebuild the house, they were in grave danger of forgetting the God of the house.
We have the same temptation. We can get very excited about our building programs, our worship styles, our denominational distinctives, our theological systems. And all these things can be good. But they can also become elaborate boxes we build, not for God, but for our own comfort. We think that if we just get the architecture right, the music right, the programs right, then God will be obligated to show up and bless our efforts. We get an edifice complex.
But the God of the Bible will not be domesticated. He is not a tame lion. He is the Creator of the heavens and the earth, and He will not be confined to a box of our making, no matter how gilded it is. In these opening verses of the final chapter, God delivers a stunning rebuke to all forms of superficial, external religion. He is not looking for a physical house built with hands. He is looking for a spiritual house, a particular kind of heart, a specific kind of person to inhabit. And He warns in the starkest possible terms that religious activity, when divorced from a heart of humble submission, is not just neutral or ineffective. It is a foul abomination in His sight.
The Text
Thus says Yahweh, "Heaven is My throne, and the earth is the footstool of My feet. Where then is a house you could build for Me? And where is a place that I may rest? For My hand made all these things, Thus all these things came into being," declares Yahweh. "But to this one I will look, To him who is humble and contrite of spirit, and who trembles at My word. But he who slaughters an ox is the one who strikes down a man; He who sacrifices a lamb is the one who breaks a dog's neck; He who offers a grain offering is the one who offers swine's blood; He who offers a memorial offering of frankincense is the one who blesses wickedness. As they have chosen their own ways, And their soul takes pleasure in their detestable things, So I will choose their punishments And will bring on them what they dread, Because I called, but no one answered; I spoke, but they did not listen. And they did what was evil in My eyes And chose that in which I did not take pleasure."
(Isaiah 66:1-4 LSB)
God's Cosmic Address (v. 1-2a)
The Lord begins by putting all human building projects into their proper, cosmic perspective.
"Thus says Yahweh, 'Heaven is My throne, and the earth is the footstool of My feet. Where then is a house you could build for Me? And where is a place that I may rest? For My hand made all these things, Thus all these things came into being,' declares Yahweh." (Isaiah 66:1-2a)
This is the language of absolute transcendence. God is not a local deity who needs a shrine. The entire cosmos is His royal court. The heavens, in all their vastness, are merely His throne. The earth, this massive globe upon which all human history unfolds, is nothing more than a stool for His feet. The imagery is designed to shatter our proud, man-centered perspectives. We strut about on His footstool, thinking we are the center of the universe, all the while oblivious to the King seated on the throne.
Given this reality, the question, "Where then is a house you could build for Me?" is devastatingly rhetorical. It's not a genuine inquiry; it's a rebuke. What materials could you possibly use that He didn't already make? What plot of land could you build on that isn't already His footstool? The very idea is absurd. It's like an ant offering to build a mansion for an elephant. This is precisely the point Stephen makes right before he is martyred, quoting this very passage to the Sanhedrin, the ultimate religious builders (Acts 7:49-50). They had turned the Temple from a signpost pointing to God into a box to contain Him, and in doing so, they missed Him when He stood right in front of them in the flesh.
God reinforces the point: "For My hand made all these things." He is the uncreated Creator. Everything that is, is because He made it. He is not in need of anything from us. He doesn't need our money, our buildings, our programs, or our worship. Our worship is not for His benefit, but for ours. We are the needy ones. He is entirely self-sufficient. This is the foundation of all true religion. Until we grasp the infinite distance between the Creator and the creature, we will always be tempted to think that we are doing God a favor by showing up on Sunday morning.
The True Temple (v. 2b)
But then, after establishing His unapproachable transcendence, God pivots. The God for whom the universe is a throne room declares that there is, in fact, a place He will look, a place He will make His dwelling.
"But to this one I will look, To him who is humble and contrite of spirit, and who trembles at My word." (Isaiah 66:2b)
This is one of the most beautiful and terrifying verses in all of Scripture. The infinite God, who needs nothing, chooses to fix His gaze, His favorable attention, upon a particular kind of person. He is not looking at the high and mighty, the religiously impressive, or the self-sufficient. He is looking for a heart that has three specific qualities.
First, He looks to the one who is "humble." The Hebrew word here is `ani`, which means poor, afflicted, lowly. This is the man who knows his spiritual bankruptcy. He is not trying to impress God with his resume. He comes with empty hands. He is the publican in the temple, beating his breast and saying, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner" (Luke 18:13). This is the opposite of the proud, self-righteous spirit that thinks it has something to offer God.
Second, He looks to the one who is "contrite of spirit." The word `contrite` means to be smitten, broken, or crushed. This is not just a general sense of lowliness; this is a spirit that has been shattered by the weight of its own sin. It is the heart that has seen its rebellion for what it is and has been broken by it. As David says, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise" (Psalm 51:17). God doesn't want our polished performances; He wants our broken pieces.
Third, He looks to the one "who trembles at My word." This is the key that unlocks the other two. Why is the man humble and contrite? Because he has heard the Word of God and takes it seriously. He trembles. This is not the trembling of a slave before a tyrant. It is the reverential awe of a creature before His holy Creator. It is the attitude that hears God speak and says, "Amen." It is the opposite of the modern, casual, flippant attitude toward Scripture that treats it as a collection of helpful suggestions. The man God looks to is the man who stakes his life, his eternity, on the truthfulness and authority of what God has said.
Hypocrisy's Heinous Sacrifice (v. 3)
Now God turns His attention from the man He looks to, to the man He abhors. He presents a series of shocking comparisons to show how He views religious ritual when it is performed by a rebellious heart.
"But he who slaughters an ox is the one who strikes down a man; He who sacrifices a lamb is the one who breaks a dog's neck; He who offers a grain offering is the one who offers swine's blood; He who offers a memorial offering of frankincense is the one who blesses wickedness. As they have chosen their own ways, And their soul takes pleasure in their detestable things," (Isaiah 66:3)
This is spiritual dynamite. God takes the very acts He commanded in the Levitical code and declares that, under certain conditions, they are equivalent to the most heinous sins and defilements. An ox sacrifice, the highest form of offering, is equated with murder. A lamb sacrifice is like breaking the neck of a dog, an unclean animal. A grain offering is like offering the blood of a pig, the ultimate abomination to a Jew. Burning incense is like blessing an idol.
What makes the difference? The heart of the worshiper. The end of the verse tells us. These are people who "have chosen their own ways" and whose souls "take pleasure in their detestable things." They are double-minded. They want to perform the outward rituals of Yahweh-worship while their hearts are secretly running after their idols, their lusts, their greed, their own autonomy. They are trying to bribe God with sacrifices while living in active rebellion against His Word.
This is a permanent warning to the church. It is entirely possible to be baptized, to be a church member, to sing the hymns, to affirm the creed, to take communion, and for God to view it all as the moral equivalent of offering swine's blood. If we come to worship while cherishing sin in our hearts, if we sing of God's holiness while planning to go back to our pet sins on Monday, our worship is not just empty. It is offensive. It is a stench in God's nostrils.
The Terrible Lex Talionis (v. 4)
The consequence for this religious hypocrisy is a terrifying and righteous judgment. It is a divine `lex talionis`, an eye for an eye.
"So I will choose their punishments And will bring on them what they dread, Because I called, but no one answered; I spoke, but they did not listen. And they did what was evil in My eyes And chose that in which I did not take pleasure." (Isaiah 66:4)
Notice the chilling symmetry. In verse 3, "they have chosen their own ways." In verse 4, "So I will choose their punishments." They insisted on being the masters of their own destiny, so God will honor their choice by choosing a destiny for them that fits their rebellion. He will give them over to their own choices, which is the very definition of Hell.
He will bring on them what they dread. What does the religious hypocrite dread most? Exposure. He dreads that the God he is trying to manage will turn out to be the unmanageable, holy God of the Bible. He dreads that his sins will find him out. God promises to make their nightmares a reality.
And the reason is simple and tragic: "Because I called, but no one answered; I spoke, but they did not listen." God did not hide His will. He spoke plainly through His prophets. He called them to repentance and faith. But they plugged their ears. They preferred the idols of their own hearts to the living Word of God. Their sin was not one of ignorance, but of willful defiance. They heard the call, they understood the command, and they deliberately "chose that in which I did not take pleasure."
Conclusion: The Temple Not Made with Hands
This passage drives us to one central place. It drives us to the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the true Temple of God, the place where the fullness of deity dwells bodily (Col. 2:9). He is the one place where the transcendent God has chosen to rest and make Himself known.
And more than that, Jesus is the perfect fulfillment of verse 2. Who was perfectly humble, taking the form of a servant? Who had a spirit utterly contrite and broken under the weight of our sin in Gethsemane? Who trembled at His Father's Word, obeying it even to the point of death on a cross? It was Jesus. He is the man to whom God looks with ultimate favor.
And the glorious news of the gospel is that when we are united to Him by faith, God looks at us and sees Jesus. Through faith in Christ, our hearts, once hard and rebellious, are made into the dwelling place of God by the Holy Spirit (Eph. 2:22). We become the temple God is looking for. We become living stones, built into a spiritual house (1 Pet. 2:5).
Therefore, the call of this passage is a call to abandon all religious pretense. It is a call to stop trying to build a house for God and to let Him make our hearts His home. It is a call to come to Him with nothing in our hands, confessing our spiritual poverty, broken over our sin, and with a new resolve to tremble before His holy Word. For that is the only sacrifice He desires, and the only temple He will ever inhabit.