In Psalm 23, the author David writes, "surely I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever." What is this "dwell"? What does it mean to dwell?
Philosopher Martin Heidegger found dwelling to be an absolutely necessary activity as an individual in the world. We must think of the world as our "familiar dwelling-place" where we conduct our everyday "staying" and "dwelling."1 This is where we are. But, we are constantly threatened by a not-at-homeness in which our very understanding of our individual existence has its foundation.2 The very act of "being in" (a) space is an ontological quality, such as a chair in a room.3 But existentially, we prioritize time over space. Being-in-time predominates being-in-the-world. We take part in a public time in which we exist, where historical events and the processes of nature take place.4 These events and processes are fundamental to our Idea of Being. We define ourselves by our Time. Time dwells in Being more originally than space.5
For Heidegger, and for David the Psalmist, this predomination risks missing the horizon of Being-in-the-World. This horizon acts as a boundary, a limitation, where a new beginning is also promised.6 Note that David references both space and time in this verse: "I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Other English translations translate "forever" to "as long as I live," which places us firmly in the earthly realm. This is not a Psalm about the afterlife, but about the now. This is a Psalm about being-in-the-world-now. Other translations still, use the phrase "for all time."
Most interestingly, however, is the original Hebrew word used. While it is used in the context of "for all time," or "for as long as I live" here, elsewhere it is more commonly used as a measure of physical length, as in God's instructions to Noah regarding the length of the Arc. Even the time in this Psalm is a spatial time. We are dwelling in time. A physicality of time is implied here that is missed in the English translations, which speaks to the very idea of dwelling that David writes of. Not only does the psalmist dwell in the house (space) of the LORD, but in the time of the LORD. Elsewhere, this same word for "forever" is used to speak of a "length of days." (Deut. 30:20)
This idea of "dwell" is intimately connected to the idea from Kierkegaard that we must figure out life right in the middle of life itself. As Heidegger later puts it, we cannot "leave behind our longing … even when we turn inward to take stock of ourselves."7 We can never abandon our stay among things. We are always in space, in the locale. We are spatially oriented creatures.
For Heidegger, we exist in the fourfold. This fourfold is made up of earth and sky, divinities and mortals. Here, we can identify what exists inside and outside both time and space. And yet, "'on the earth' already means 'under the sky'".8 These concepts are interconnected, despite being defined by their relative distinctions.
As mortals, we are on the earth, under the sky, and anchored to a divinity/to the power that created us. We are firmly within the fourfold–indeed, we are part of it. The locale makes room for us mortals, but also for earth, sky, and divinity. In this way, we can understand not only that our materialistic, naturalistic view of the world is perhaps too shallow, but also that if we are to understand the very essence of dwelling (and of Being), we must understand our Being in relation to earth, sky, and divinity.
This is why the saving action of God had to take place as Christ, in-the-world, fully man and fully God, blurring the lines between mortal and divine, earthly and sky-bound. God had to act within the locale of Being, where man dwells. Locales shelter, locales house man. And even before Christ was born, the Christian God is a God of place, a God of dwelling. Psalm 23 indicates this: David writes he shall dwell in the house of the LORD. The LORD our God has a house, and it is where we shall dwell. And we shall dwell there forever.
Heidegger writes that only if we are capable of dwelling, only then can we build.9 This is the ethical component of dwelling. Building is the ethical component of dwelling. Particularly noteworthy is this idea that to dwell in the house of the LORD does not draw the dweller away from the world in a spiritually removed dwelling. Rather, the very act of dwelling creates the opportunity and ability to then build. Just as Abraham's faith after the faith-affirming sacrifice on Mount Moriah brought him back down the mountain, into the world to live his faith-filled life among others rather than drawing him away from the world, so too are we called not only to dwell in the house of the LORD, but also (and precisely as a result of that dwelling) to build. When we think of dwelling this way, the essence of dwelling starts to illumine.
Dwelling is to live in love, to live in the comfort of Christ, to be laid down in the green pastures of Psalm 23. It is to be able to be silent before God, to simply dwell with the presence of God Himself. It is to live without anxiety. It is to be like the lily of the field and the bird of the air that worry not about where their next meal shall come from or whether the sun will shine, but who live, silent, before God and trust that He shall provide.
Hence, for Heidegger, dwelling is the "basic character of Being."10 And therefore, building derives its essence from dwelling, and therefore also belongs to dwelling. If dwelling is to live in the love of God, then building is to then act that love out onto others. It is to make others conscious of their "homelessness", their lack-of-dwelling. The "proper plight of dwelling" is the very fact that man does not think of this lack of dwelling as the plight that faces man. Man is content to wander homelessly from structure to structure, paradoxically accepting his existence in the world and yet subconsciously experiencing this not-at-homeness wherein we long for a dwelling-place, one that will provide those homely comforts, one that confirms that we are home, one that lays us down in green pastures, even though we walk through valleys of death. In the face of suffering, we know where we dwell, and we know that suffering cannot penetrate those walls. Our God is a mighty fortress. Our dwelling is secure.
The process of finding one's eternal dwelling place must be preceded by the very becoming-conscious of one's not-at-homeness. And this act of becoming-conscious is often-times a difficult task. We are filled with apprehension. But it is a necessary task. Once one is conscious of this not-at-homeness, this lack-of-dwelling-place, one can then properly seek the eternal dwelling place of Christ. One learns that he must "ever learn to dwell".11 And this realization, this becoming-conscious, is the "sole summons that calls mortals into their dwelling."12 We are called into our dwelling, we are called to eternally dwell in the house of the LORD.
So, then, what does it mean to dwell? It means to live in love, to live in the house of the LORD, but also to remain physically in the world, to remain connected to our neighbor. Recall that even this word "forever" has a physical characteristic. To dwell means to have our cup filled, but also to have our cup overflow. It is to be silent before God, but also to be, finally, capable of loving our neighbor. Our neighbor, here, is then those who dwell alongside us. We are commanded to love them. To dwell is to remain. To dwell is our basic character of Being. It is to fulfill the commandments. It is to love the LORD our God, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. Amen.
King, Magda. A Guide to Heidegger’s Being and Time. State University of New York Press, 2001. p. 200.
Ibid.
Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. trans. Stambaugh, Joan. State University of New York Press, 2010. p. 54.
King, 293.
Ibid.
Heidegger, Martin. “Building Dwelling Thinking”, Basic Writings, 343-391. Harper Perennial Modern Thought, 2008. p. 256.
Id. at 359.
Id. at 351.
Id. at 361.
Id. at 362.
Id. at 363.
Ibid.