“God is everywhere, at all times,” they say. But no, he isn’t, or it would mean nothing that he dwells inside of us.
It is true that “he is actually not far from each one of us, for ‘In him we live and move and have our being’” (Acts 17:27-28). Yet there is somehow a difference — there must be a difference — between that reality, which applies to everyone on earth, and the reality that applies only to believers, in whom he has chosen to reside.
For a long time, it has been essentially a dogma that God is omnipresent, but perhaps it is more accurate to say simply that he sees all things, watches over all people, is involved in every circumstance, etc., even though he may not be present.
In defense of his omnipresence, some may point to David, who said, “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?” (Psalm 139:7). However, David was a man anointed with the Holy Spirit, which actually supports my position, not theirs. Someone without the Holy Spirit did not have God’s presence with them.
Or they might quote God himself (through Jeremiah): “Do I not fill heaven and earth? declares the LORD” (Jeremiah 23:24). But in the same verse, the context reveals the obvious point that God is making, which is that “man [cannot] hide himself in secret places so that [God] cannot see him” (my italics). Once again, God sees all things and isn’t far from anyone, but that doesn’t mean that he is present everywhere at all times.
I can see my children playing in the backyard through my kitchen window. I can even hear their chatter. I am not far from them, but I am also not present with them. I cannot pick them up if they fall down. I cannot help them move the heavy branch that is in their way. I cannot make them laugh. I cannot speak to them gently. I cannot show them how to kick the ball better. I cannot defend them from bullying neighbors. For all of these things, I would need to be present with them in the backyard.
In both the Old and New Testaments, God’s presence on earth is consistently portrayed as something confined to a specified location, such as the Garden of Eden, Mount Sinai, the Tabernacle, the Temple, and (after Pentecost) in every Christian. Hence, Cain was sent “away from the presence of the LORD” (Genesis 4:16, my italics). Hence, God instructed the Israelites to enter the promised land without him and then, through Moses’ intercession, changed his mind and went with them (see Exodus 33:1-17). Hence, “the glory of the LORD went out from [the temple]” in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezekiel 10:18). There are many such examples as this, which make it quite difficult to argue that he is everywhere at all times, unless you water down his presence to something that doesn’t actually mean present.
God’s presence was so powerful, so real, so specific, that when a man touched the Ark of the Covenant, where God was supposedly “seated”, the man died (see 2 Samuel 6:6-7). The Israelites were told that anyone who touched Mount Sinai, while God was on it, must be put to death (see Exodus 19:12). And, of course, the Most Holy Place — the innermost room of the Temple, where the Ark was kept — could be entered only once per year, only by the high priest, and only on very specific terms, lest anyone should die (see Leviticus 16:2).
That presence — that awful, glorious, all-consuming presence, which devours all that is unholy with a love as bright and pure as the sun — is most certainly not everywhere. Indeed, it is no longer anywhere on earth but inside the believer. Thus, we Christians are now the temple of God in a very real sense, which is the most profound change that has ever occurred in the history of the universe.
Think about it for a minute. You cannot grasp the absolute profundity of the gospel if you believe that God is everywhere. In that case, then what difference does it make that he is inside of you and me, as well? However, if he is only inside of you and me, then all of a sudden, we discover our purpose.