Keepers of the Presence

As we celebrate Christmas—the season where we remember God coming to earth as Emmanuel, God with us—it’s important to remember this truth:
Christmas was not the first time God came near.

Before the Manger, There Was the Ark
Long before there was a baby in a manger, there was something known as the Ark of the Covenant—what you could essentially call God in a box.
God gave Israel very specific instructions for building the ark. It contained:

• The Ten Commandments — God’s Word
• A jar of manna — God’s provision
• Aaron’s rod that budded — resurrection life

Above it was the mercy seat, overshadowed by golden cherubim, where blood was sprinkled once a year for the atonement of sin.
This was not symbolic.
This was the manifested presence of God dwelling among His people.
Where the ark went, God’s presence went.
It represented His protection, provision, power, mercy, and glory.

When God’s Presence Became Casual
At first, Israel would never move without the ark. It led them through the wilderness, marked by a cloud by day and fire by night. But once they settled, something changed.
They built a permanent place for the ark in Shiloh—and slowly, subtly, distance crept in.
The presence of God was no longer central to daily life.
It became something they knew where to find, but didn’t live with.
When Israel went to battle and lost, they realized something was missing—not repentance, not obedience—but the ark. Their solution?

“Go fetch the ark.”

Fetch God.
They didn’t want relationship.
They wanted a religious good-luck charm.
And because of their irreverence, God allowed the ark to be captured by the Philistines. What followed was devastating—over 80,000 people died because God’s presence was mishandled, dishonored, and treated casually.

God Will Not Be Treated as Common
The Philistines placed the ark in the temple of their god, Dagon. By morning, Dagon had fallen face-down before the ark. The next day, his head and hands were broken off.
Then came a plague so severe the Philistines begged to send the ark back.
God was making a statement:

“I will not share glory. I will not be managed. I will not be reduced.”

When the ark returned to Israel, more tragedy followed because people still treated it lightly—lifting the lid, touching what was holy.
So Israel did the unthinkable.
They abandoned the ark.

The Forgotten Ark and the Faithful Keeper
No one wanted it.
So they dropped it off at a man’s house—Abinadab—and his son Eleazar became its keeper.
For 20 years, the ark sat in his home.
No national worship.
No celebrations.
No sacrifices.
Just quiet faithfulness.
For two decades, while the nation moved on, Eleazar kept the presence of God.
He didn’t gain fame.
He didn’t lead parades.
He didn’t stand on platforms.
He simply honored what others had abandoned.
Why David Could Dance
Years later, a new king rose—David, a man who loved God’s presence. One of the first things he did was ask:

“Where is the ark?”

The only reason David could restore it…
The only reason the nation could celebrate again…
The only reason revival could happen…
…was because someone had kept it when it wasn’t popular.
Eleazar’s private obedience preserved the presence for a future generation.

From the Box to the Heart
So what does this have to do with Christmas?
Everything.
The ark was God dwelling among His people.
Jesus is God dwelling with His people.
After the cross, God now dwells in His people.
You are now the temple.
And the danger today isn’t fear—it’s familiarity.
We no longer store God in a box, but we often compartmentalize Him:

• My life
• My plans
• My schedule
• And then… God

We run to Him in emergencies but keep Him at a distance in daily life.
That’s not what Christmas came to establish.

Be a Keeper
This Christmas, the call is simple:
Be a keeper of the presence.
Not someone who fetches God only when things fall apart.
Not someone who treats His presence casually.
But someone who honors Him daily—at home, at the table, in prayer, in worship.
Maybe you’re the one keeping the presence so your children or grandchildren can one day rejoice.
Maybe you’re preserving something sacred in a generation that’s forgotten it.
Make room.
Slow down.
Honor Him.
Because Emmanuel isn’t just a Christmas verse.
He is God with us—and He’s worth keeping.