Have you ever thought of the Bible as a story? Think about some of the books you read in high school or college: East of Eden, Huckleberry Finn, The Great Gatsby. All these books have themes, characters, and plots. The Bible has these as well: Moses, Job, and Jesus. Heroes are tempted, armies clash, empires fall, and prophets confront. The sinews that hold the whole thing together, like any good story, are its themes: covenant, redemption, holiness, kingdom. We could read the story of Joseph on its own, and though it’s a fine story by itself, it’s only one small piece of a greater puzzle. We can learn a lot from Joseph and his story, but reading about him in the broader narrative of Scripture reveals that Joseph’s story isn’t about him. It’s about God ultimately preserving the twelve sons of Jacob (Genesis 37–50).

The theme of presence runs through Scripture less like a ship crossing the sea and more like a deep current beneath it. The real momentum that churns in the depths of Scripture is that of God interacting with his creation. Put plainly, if God didn’t interact with his creation, there’d be nothing to read about. The Bible would just be another ancient religious text that, though formative, would be relegated to the past. But right from the start, God is present. He is not lurking in the background as a blind force or puppet master. Genesis 1 and 2 depict him as deeply involved in the creation and ordering of the cosmos. Other Ancient Near Eastern creation accounts, such as the Enuma Elish, depict the gods as vindictive, bloodthirsty savages who use the corpses of dead gods to create the firmament. God in the Bible is loving, all-powerful, and intimately involved in his handiwork. God’s presence animates the Garden of Eden, brings life to existence, and breathes into the nostrils of reality itself (Genesis 2:7). But God removes Adam and Eve from the garden after they disobey his design, and with it comes death, corruption, and the undoing of creation (Genesis 3).

Though God no longer walked with Adam in the cool of Eden’s mornings, he hadn’t completely forsaken his creation. God makes his presence known steadily, in incremental ways: a calling to a foreign land (Genesis 12:1–3), a burning bush (Exodus 3:2–3), a passing glance (Exodus 33:22–23), pillars of cloud and fire (Exodus 40:38), and then a physical dwelling place in Jerusalem (1 Kings 6). But even in the temple, a barrier remained between God and people: only priests could enter the Most Holy Place once a year (Hebrews 9:7), and there was a curtain that separated it from the rest of the temple (2 Chronicles 3:14). The curtain was a symbol of the separation between a holy, perfect God and sinful, imperfect humans. All of this culminates in God’s physical dwelling in Jesus. As John 1:14 says, Jesus came and dwelt—“tabernacled”—among us. And that was the plan all along: Christ—the embodiment of God on earth—restored what was lost in Eden and brought people back home to God. When Christ died on the cross, the curtain in the temple—where only one man could enter once a year—tore open, signifying that all who believed in Christ now have access to God. More than that, God has called us into his work of redemption. God dwells within every Christian through the Holy Spirit; the physical temple that once held God’s presence is now the spiritual temple of the human heart. But that presence isn’t only individual—God also dwells in our midst when we gather together (Matthew 18:20).

The end of the Bible isn’t really the end of a story; if you read through Revelation, you’ll realize that this is just the beginning of the next story. John, who wrote Revelation, says, “…the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea… And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (21:1, 3–4). The presence of God —us being face to face with him—means death and sin no longer exist. People are called back to Eden as sons and daughters, enjoying his presence and walking with him once more in the cool of heaven’s day.