Editor’s note: After careful and prayerful consideration, the Presbyterian Outlook editorial team has made the difficult decision to discontinue Outlook Standard Lessons. Our final lesson will be material for Sunday, May 18.
For many years, the Outlook has offered these lessons — rooted in outlines from the ecumenical Uniform Lesson Series — as a resource for churches and individuals across the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). We are deeply grateful for the ways these lessons have supported your study and teaching of Scripture.
This change comes as we discern how best to serve the evolving needs of the modern church. In an effort to make Presbyterian theology more digitally discoverable, our small team is launching a new initiative to strengthen our search engine optimization efforts and support long-term digital growth. This work will require substantial time and focus. As a result, we’ve made the difficult decision to pause lower-traffic projects — including the Outlook Standard Lessons — to direct our energy where it can have the greatest impact.
We understand this transition may cause inconvenience, for which we apologize.
For those interested in continuing the Uniform Lesson program, we recommend The Present Word, published by Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Like Outlook Standard Lessons, The Present Word follows the same foundational outlines — and includes additional resources such as teachers’ guides and worship leaflets. To continue seamlessly, look for The Present Word’s Summer 2025 Quarter.
Finally, subscribers may wish to explore our archive of past Outlook Standard Lessons, which may help fill curriculum needs in the months ahead.
Thank you for your understanding — and your continued support of the Presbyterian Outlook.
2 Chronicles 7:1-20
At least twice in my life, I have stood in awe at the magnificence and beauty of a place — pure, speech-stealing, unbridled awe. The first was during a travel seminar in seminary when I first laid eyes on the Strasbourg Cathedral in France. Walking through a maze of medieval streets and centuries-old buildings, the full spectacle of the cathedral revealed itself when we entered the square. I could do nothing but stand there, crane my neck up as comfortably as I could, and take in the fullness of the house of God that stood before me.
The cathedral was the world’s tallest building from 1647 to 1874 (not to mention the tallest structure still standing that was built entirely in the Middle Ages), hosting preachers like John Calvin and Martin Bucer. I couldn’t help but feel that my presence in this space and my beholding of it was an act of prayer.
The second time I experienced true awe was when I visited the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs. With the Rocky Mountains as a backdrop, the park hosts red rock formations created and shaped over several hundred million years. If we were trained in geology, my partner Kala and I could have seen the evidence of ancient seas and eroded remains of former mountain ranges eons ago. I could do nothing but stand in awe of the natural beauty before me, taking in rocks that have seen spans of time that my human mind could never comprehend.
Later, I learned that the Indigenous Ute people’s creation narrative took place at the Garden of the Gods. They believe the place has a special connection to the divine. I can’t help but agree that the space is surely a cathedral built by God’s own hands over millions of years.
When I read 2 Chronicles 7, I think of these sacred spaces. Here, Solomon dedicates the Temple he has built in Jerusalem, and God literally responds to his prayer. The text tells us that “fire came down from heaven” to consume the offerings of God’s people (7:1) and “the glory of the Lord filled the temple” so that even priests couldn’t enter (7:1-2).
To the original audience of the text, the physical manifestation of “the glory of the Lord” explained God’s blessing of the Temple while also acknowledging that God was not bound to any other physical location. The description of “fire coming down from heaven” is also not unique to this passage (see Leviticus 9:23-24; 1 Chronicles 21:26). God has come down into the Temple, and God’s presence is so overwhelming in the space that people respond by bowing down “with their faces to the ground” to worship the Lord, saying, “For he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever” (7:3). Truly, how else could we respond to witnessing the glory of God present before our own eyes?
Later in the text, God appears to Solomon in the night, reminding him that the Lord has chosen the Temple as a house of God: “my eyes and my heart will be there for all time” (7:15-16). In this appearance, God also instructs Solomon to “walk before me as your father David walked” and remember the Davidic Covenant (7:17-18), where God promised David that his lineage would be the foundation for an eternal kingdom (2 Samuel 7:13). In this reminder, God connects the history of the people who have just built and consecrated the temple to the place itself. It almost feels as though God reminds us, the reader, that any sacred space doesn’t exist in a void. There is always a story. Such histories may not always be pleasing to hear and often illustrate our shortcomings and failures as human beings, but they are important nonetheless.
As we read this passage from 2 Chronicles, I give thanks for the sacred spaces I have encountered in my life, both natural and human-built. Just as humankind has created cathedrals to show the glory of God throughout the ages, so too has God built marvels of nature to witness to God’s own majesty and beauty. Both are good, for God is good, and God’s steadfast love endures forever.
Questions for reflection on 2 Chronicles 7:1-20
- What are some spaces that you have encountered that you would call “sacred”?
- How does knowing the history or story of those sacred spaces inform your reverence of them?
- What do “sacred spaces” tell you about who God is and what God has done in your life?
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