Old Testament
Psalm 91:1-4
1 He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.”
3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers. Under his wings you will take refuge. His faithfulness is your shield and rampart.
New Testament
John 14:1-3
1 “Don’t let your heart be troubled. Believe in God. Believe also in me.
2 In my Father’s house are many homes. If it weren’t so, I would have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you.
3 If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will receive you to myself; that where I am, you may be there also.
Psalm 91 speaks of refuge with an older, steadier confidence: the Most High is a dwelling place, a shelter that is not improvised in crisis but available to those who come to him. The psalm does not deny danger; it teaches us where to place our weight when fear presses in.
Jesus speaks the same comfort on the eve of suffering. Do not let your hearts be troubled, he says, and then he ties that calm to trust: trust in God, trust also in me. He goes to prepare a place, not as a landlord offering a contract, but as the Son bringing his household home.
So housing is never merely technical, even when it is deeply practical. It touches the human need to sleep without dread, to belong somewhere without shame, to be known rather than moved along. And "home" is often more fragile than it looks: rented rooms, temporary accommodation, overcrowded flats, shared houses, sofa-surfing, multi-generational strain, households still forming after rupture. In Christ we are not finally without a home; and because of that, Christians should learn to speak of shelter with tenderness rather than assumption.
If the person in temporary accommodation were praying beside us this morning, what would we ask God for them? Lord, make your Church a refuge, and give our cities the courage to build in ways that honour dignity, quiet fear, and welcome the stranger.