For some time now, our church has been looking for a receptionist. It seems that finding the right person has been harder than we expected. As I have thought about that search—and about who might choose to be a receptionist—it brought to mind a verse that has always intrigued me. In Psalm 84, the psalmist says:
“For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.”
— Psalm 84:10
A doorkeeper.
It is an interesting thing to say. Why would someone prefer to spend even one day at the entrance of God’s house rather than live somewhere else? What was it about that place that made the psalmist long for it so deeply?
Perhaps it was the worship. Perhaps the fellowship. Perhaps the beauty of the temple, the sacrifices, the music, the teaching, or the familiar rhythms of life around it. Whatever it was, the psalmist would rather be there than anywhere else. He goes so far as to say that “a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.”
There is a deep longing here. And underneath all these “good reasons” was probably something much greater:
God was there.
The temple represented God’s dwelling among His people. To long for the temple was, at its deepest level, to long for God’s presence.
From the time the sanctuary was built in the wilderness, God had expressed His desire to dwell among His people: “Let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst” (Exodus 25:8). And when Israel eventually settled in the Promised Land, they built cities, established homes, planted vineyards, worked their fields, and grew in prosperity. They could worship God in their own towns and homes, but there was still one unique place among them that represented God’s dwelling—the sanctuary, the “house of God.”
And that makes Psalm 84 especially interesting for us.
We don’t have the temple in Jerusalem. We don’t have an earthly sanctuary where God’s presence is confined. The New Testament takes us in a remarkable direction: God’s presence is no longer centered in a particular building. Through the Holy Spirit, God makes His dwelling in His people. Paul reminds us that we are “the temple of the living God” (2 Corinthians 6:16), and Jesus promised His disciples that He would be with them.
So, perhaps we should ask: Why do we still gather?
If God can be with me in my home, in my car, on a walk, or sitting quietly by myself, why do I need to come to church?
Maybe Psalm 84 helps us answer that question.
The psalmist’s longing was not ultimately for a building. He was longing to be where God was. And while God’s presence is not limited to our church buildings, there is something profoundly beautiful about gathering together as people who are seeking that presence.
We come because faith was never meant to be lived entirely alone.
We come to worship together. We come to hear the Word together. We come to encourage one another, to carry one another’s burdens, to sing together, to pray together, and to celebrate together. We come because there are things God does in us when we gather with His people that we would not experience in quite the same way by ourselves.
But there is another dimension to Psalm 84 that I find even more compelling.
The psalm seems to move through three experiences of God’s people1: the blessings of dwelling in the sanctuary (verses 1–4), the blessings of journeying toward the sanctuary (verses 5–10), and finally the blessings that come from God even to those who are far from the sanctuary (verses 11–12).
The psalm is not only about being in God’s house. It is also about the blessings of journeying toward God’s house—and about experiencing God’s presence even when we cannot be there.
“Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage” (Psalm 84:5).
The image is beautiful. The people of God are travelers. They are on their way to Zion. They pass through valleys. They become weary. They find springs along the way. They gain strength and continue their journey until they finally appear before God.
That sounds remarkably like the Christian life.
We are pilgrims.
We have not yet arrived.
There are valleys along the way. There are seasons when the journey is difficult, when our strength feels small, and the destination seems far away. Yet something keeps us moving: we know where we are going, and we know who is waiting for us there.
The earthly sanctuary pointed beyond itself. The longing for God’s house ultimately points beyond any earthly church building, toward the greater reality of God’s eternal presence.
The book of Revelation gives us a glimpse of that future. John sees the New Jerusalem and hears a declaration that sounds almost like the ultimate fulfillment of everything Psalm 84 longs for:
“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.”
— Revelation 21:3
One day, the pilgrimage will be over.
One day, we will no longer gather in a sanctuary because we are longing for the day when we can be fully in God’s presence.
We will be home.
And perhaps that gives new meaning to the words, “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God.”
The psalmist was expressing a longing that goes deeper than architecture, tradition, or even religious activity. He wanted to be where God was.
That is still the deepest longing of the Christian heart.
We gather in our churches not because God is trapped inside them, but because together we remind one another of where we are going. Every Sabbath gathering, every hymn, every prayer, every sermon, every act of kindness, every conversation with another believer can become a small foretaste of that greater gathering that is still ahead.
We are pilgrims on our way home.
And perhaps the question for us is not simply, “Why do I need to go to church?”
Perhaps it is:
Do I still long to be where God is?
Because if we do, then even a day in His courts becomes precious. And even the simplest gathering of His people can become a reminder of the day when the journey will finally be finished, and we will dwell with God forever.
Then we will be able to say with David:
“One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in his temple.”
— Psalm 27:4
1 Dragoslava Santrac, Seventh-day Adventist International Bible Commentary, Vol. 6, Pacific Press, Nampa, Idaho, 2022.