The Detail!

            Oh, the detail that Leviticus goes into about the prescribed sacrifices!  Do we need to know where blood goes and which parts are burned on the altar and what happens to the other parts!  (I’m seminary trained, and I had to consult a secondary chart to keep it all straight!)

            Look, there is purpose here.  So, for example, my dad wasn’t a big fat of really lean meat:  he believed that marbled, that is, fatty beef tasted better.  And you know what?  A lot of ancient people agreed with him!  The fatty portions are the good portions!  Notice that the fatty portions—the best parts—are given to God.

            Or consider the “long lobe of the liver” (ESV, 4:9).  The Lutheran Study Bible points out that the liver and the other entrails were used in pagan practices for divination.  But not in Israel, where those parts were dealt with in specific ways to prevent that sort of superstition.

            The overarching point is that these were sacrifices not slaughter.  These animals were killed for specific purposes—restoration, forgiveness, thanksgiving, restitution—and that meant that Israel was not to engage in them willy-nilly.

            At the very least, the Christian can learn a lesson about intentionality.  We ought not stumble into good works and generosity.  Paul puts it this way in regard to generosity:  “Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (NIV; 2 Corinthians 9:7).

            But there’s a much more important lesson to learn here, namely, if Israel’s sacrificial system was ‘on purpose,’ then the atoning sacrifice of Jesus is ‘on purpose.’  Commentators many stripes have suggested that Jesus bumbled into the cross and that Gospel writers were trying to cover up and explain the basic mistake of the cross.  But, the Gospel writers do everything they can to convince us that the cross is exactly the destination at which the Father intended Jesus to arrive.  Consider the brief evidence of Luke’s Gospel:  the Messiah is going to bring a great reversal of fortunes (1:46-55); the infant Jesus is destined to be a source of contention in Israel (2:23); in His Baptism Jesus is counted with the transgressor (3:3, 21; 22:370; three times He announces His imminent crucifixion and resurrection; He sets Himself resolutely for Jerusalem; and although He names it the hour of darkness (22:53), everything unfolds as He has said—even down to Peter’s denial and Judas’ betrayal.

            Here’s your Jesus connection!  Jesus’ death is no accident, as Israel’s sacrificial system was no accident.  As detailed as the Lord was with bulls and goats, even more so He knows what His plan is for the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.  It’s a good thing to have a God who won’t leave the details of our salvation to chance.

Unalloyed Offerings

            One thing I notice about grain offerings and peace offerings is that all the offerings the Israelites brought were to be the very picture of life and value.  So, for example, the grain offerings were to have ‘value-added.’  Frankincense and olive oil were added, presumably so that the offerings were aromatically pleasing.  On the other hand, no grain offering could be made with yeast or honey.  (Moderns probably wonder about the ancient Israelite hang-up with yeast; apparently in the Israelite mind ‘leavening’ brought up images of decay and death.  It makes sense if you think about it:  dead animals bloat, so a loaf of bread that is ‘bloating’ reminds one of a dead animal.)  So, the offerings were to be the best and they were to be valuable reminders of God’s gift of life.

            You can see the connection into contemporary Christian practice.  We, of course, see that every Levitical offering leads us to Jesus, the Unblemished One, full of the very life of God, who was offered for us on the cross.  And we also see that the Lord desires our best—whether in the actual offerings we bring to church or in the ways that we offer our lives to Him.  It does strike me that we contemporary Christians struggle to give God our best.  We tend not to give of our firstfruits, but of our leftovers—whether in the actual offerings we bring to church or in the time we offer to the Lord, letting our faith be just one constraint among many, without ever seeing that the Lord wants our relationship to Him to be the thing that shapes and determines every other commitment we make.

            We can learn from the Levitical offerings something about the way we present ourselves to the Lord, and we can learn that best when we first see how Jesus has become the great Offering and when it becomes clear that all of our offerings are responses to that grace.

Introducing Leviticus

            We’ll have plenty of time over the next couple of weeks to talk about the sacrifices of Leviticus:  our reading schedule has us in Leviticus for 12 days.  Today, let me comment on the title of the book.  Leviticus refers to the tribe of Levi, and it seems to be a bit of an anachronism.  The tribe of Levi is not set apart for service in the tabernacle until Numbers 3-4 (and least I didn’t find it before that).  True, Aaron and his sons are Levites, but the whole tribe isn’t given to the tabernacle’s service yet.

            Anyway, the name, Leviticus, emphasizes the nature of the book as a series of instructions about the rules by which the Levitical priesthood was to administer the tabernacle.  However, ancient Israelites tended to name their books for the first few words of those books, and the third book of the Bible was called “And the Lord called.”  Now, this practice of naming books by their first words was probably just a cultural practice, but in this case it highlights something different about the book.  Instead of highlighting the book as a book of arcane and seemingly irrelevant instructions about sacrifices and purity, the Hebrew title highlights the book as book about the Lord’s desires for Israel.

            That’s really where the emphasis needs to be.  It’s easy to get bogged down in the details of Leviticus, but the big picture is that the Lord intended the services of the tabernacle to be the means by which His grace and forgiveness were delivered to His people.  If we find the book overly exacting, hopefully we can at least consider that the nuance is because the subject matter—becoming and remaining God’s holy people—is important.

Furniture in the Style of Christ

            Christian reflection looks at the furnishings of the tabernacle, and can’t help but see Jesus.  We’ll find out in the book of Leviticus that the ark of the covenant with its mercy seat is recognized as the throne of God and that it is spattered with blood on the day of atonement.  In the New Testament, when Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper, He declares that His blood, about to be shed on the cross, is the blood of the new covenant.  We enter the presence of God through the covenant established by the shedding of Jesus’ blood.

            The Holy Place in the tabernacle contains the table of the presence, that is, a table on which is placed twelve loaves of bread and flagons for drink offerings.  The imagery speaks of God the Provider, who sent manna in the wilderness, but for the Christian, we can’t help but go to the feeding of the 5,000 and the leftovers of twelve baskets of bread, and we can’t help but see this as looking forward to Jesus’ own declaration about Himself, “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35).  And perhaps we’ll notice how consistent it is that in the Holy Supper that Jesus gave us, we eat the bread of life and drink the cup of His blood, the ultimate ‘drink offering’ poured out for our salvation.

            In that same space stood the golden lampstand with its 7 lamps.  Again it’s a reminder of the God who led Israel out of Egypt in a pillar of flame.  But Christians will hear the words of Christ, “I am the light of the world” (John 1:9, 3:19, 8:12), and they’ll be reminded of 2 Timothy 1:10, that Jesus has destroyed death and brought life and immortality to light.  And perhaps we’ll tune our ears to the language of the early church, which referred to Baptism as Enlightenment—the time when the light of Christ shines in a sinner’s darkened life.

            The third piece of furniture in the Holy Place is the incense altar.  I think I mentioned a few days ago about the image of prayer as the cloud of incense rising up to heaven.  So, Christian reflection leads us forward to Jesus’ unique anointing with the Holy Spirit (Matt. 3:16) and His unique dedication to His communion with the Father (Luke 3:21, 5:16, 6:12, 9:18, 9:28, well, you get the idea).  And that leads us forward to still another aspect of His work as our high priest, namely, that even now, He constantly intercedes for us before the Father (Rom. 8:34).

            The furnishings in the tabernacle, then, are one extended prophecy (technically, one extended type) that lead us forward to God’s decisive act of salvation in Jesus.  How blessed we are to see clearly where God was going with all of this!

Of Treasure and Talent

            Two things stand out in Exodus 35.  First, there is the repeated assertion that everyone ‘whose heart moved him’ contributed to the building of the tabernacle.  This fits with Paul’s description of our gifts to the Lord in 2 Corinthians 9:7, “Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”  Our gifts to the Lord and His work flow from hearts renewed by the Gospel, not from hearts terrified by the Law.  Our gifts are not duties or taxes, but gifts.  This is a relationship that is easily turned upside down.  Consider the kind of reasoning that surrounds our Christmas celebration:  “They sent us a card; we’d better send them one.”  “Do I give him a gift?  Well, he gave me one . . .”  The sense of reciprocity and duty undoes the sense of gift freely given.  So, if we reason, “Well, God did a lot for us, I guess we ought to give Him something,” or, even worse, if we reason, “Well, the church did a lot for us, I guess we ought to give something back," then we probably are not in the place of joyful giving.  The case of the people of Israel is remarkable, because (in this case, at least) their enthusiasm is so great that Moses eventually has to tell them to stop bringing their gifts. (Ex. 36:5-6).  (I don’t know a pastor or a church council who wouldn’t love to have that problem!)

            The second thing that stands out for me is the case of Bezalel and Oholiab, the craftsmen in charge of the tabernacle’s construction.  Here I note three things.  First, their skills are clearly called a gift from the Lord (35:31).  That’s part of what Lutheran’s call the doctrine of vocation: recognizing that even our most work-a-day skills and talents are gifts from the Lord.  So, there is no such thing as “just a . . .” in God’s mind.  No matter how mundane the gift may seem, the Christian strives to see it as a skill the Lord has blessed and to use it to His glory.  God elevates everything about us.  Second, as I’ve already mentioned, those God-given skills—whether it’s brain surgery or fine art or a strong back—are used in the service of the Lord.  Even the women of Israel spun to God’s glory (35:25-26).  (Spinning would have been an incredibly common skill among a people who raised sheep and goats.)  In terms of application, I’m not saying that every skill must be used in the church, although speaking for one congregation, we really appreciate those gifts!  I am saying that no matter how the Lord has blessed you, doing the best with that gift glorifies Him.  Finally, Bezalel and Oholiab taught the skills with which the Lord had blessed them (35:34).  Gifts blossom in their use and in their propagation.  Masters need apprentices, or else the old skills die out, and there is blessing in handing down the wisdom of the generations.  (Insert a shameless plug for Faith Crossroads here!  A key component of our children’s ministry is to find ways to mentor young parents in the skills and disciplines of parenting.)  so, while not everyone may be a master teacher, God is glorified in the sharing and in the mentoring that we do to multiply His gifts.

A Covenant of Love

            Following the incident with the golden calf, when the Lord had every reason to be angry, to abandon his plans with Israel, to choose a different direction, He does not.  Instead, He declares Himself to Moses as “the Lord, gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love.”  This description of the Lord is used at least 8 times in the Old Testament.  It is in God’s nature to be compassionate and faithful.  Lutheran theology describes anger and punishment as God’s alien works, that is, they are works He does when pushed but they are not works He takes joy in.

            We struggle to understand the mind of God.  I’ve often heard people reflect on their difficulties putting together God’s foreknowledge and the freedom He gave Adam and Eve to sin.  People wonder, “If God knew they were going to disappoint Him that badly, why did He create them like He did?  Wasn’t He just setting Himself up for heartache?”  Or, they think, “Oughtn’t God just have started over after Adam blew it?”  But, of course, love takes a risk on another.  Love means opening oneself up to the possibility that the beloved will hurt you.  And, of course, God is love (1 John 4:8).

            God is love, but humans are sinners, and our love is never perfect.  That’s why the Lord forbade interactions with the Canaanites.  It’s not that the Lord does not love all humanity or that He had it in for the Canaanites or that the Canaanites were worse than other humans.  It’s that Israel was a guardian of God’s promise, and the Lord knew their weakness, so He gave them commands to curtail their worst behaviors, namely, to drive out the Canaanites and to have nothing to do with them lest they lead Israel into more idolatry.

            Here’s a hard question:  to what extent ought we Christians separate ourselves from the temptations of the world around us and to what extent are we to be a leavening agents within that world?  Clearly we are called to be in the world, to be a light for the world, to testify to the world of the grace that is in Christ Jesus.  It’s tough to do that if you are hunkered down in a bunker!  On the other hand, there may be some places it is simply unwise to go:  one has to wonder whether a recovering alcoholic ought to engage the bar scene.  Perhaps this is one of the reasons that Jesus taught us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation,” that we might learn to recognize our own weaknesses and limitations in our pursuit of the kingdom.

            As a Christian pastor reading Exodus 34 I think I’d ‘square the circle’ like this:  The Lord’s love is overwhelming and unconditional, and we are called to manifest that love in the world.  That necessitates the risk of being among ‘the Canaanites.’  To live among ‘the Canaanites’ can be dangerous because it puts us in an environment of constant temptation.  However, if we are regularly and faithfully in the presence of God and His promises, that is, if we are regularly attending to His Word and Sacraments in worship and regularly in His Word (notice the commands to worship in verse 18-26), we can be maintained in the compassionate love of God for us and in our compassionate love for the world.

Mixing God's Words

            Another day, another rich text!  Exodus 32 begins with an important warning.  Israel’s problem was rarely outright rejection of the Lord their God.  Most often the problem was syncretism.  That is, the Israelites would mix elements of pagan idol worship and elements of true worship.  Notice that even as he fashions the golden calf, Aaron announces a festival to the Lord (32:5).  Understand that the Lord finds this every bit as offensive as outright idolatry, maybe even worse.  “I am the Lord; that is my name!  I will not give my glory to another or my praise to idols” (NIV; Isaiah 42:8).

            People sometimes wonder why I’m so hard on things like angels, end-time speculations, and other sundry topics.  I’m hard on them because true faith grows from God’s words.  If we mix God’s words with things He hasn’t said, well, that’s syncretism.  If we mix our take on Jesus with a little dash of Buddhism, so that Jesus becomes anything less the absolutely unique God-man, who alone atones for sin, that’s problem.  If swallow that old bit about ‘all religions basically worshipping the same god,’ and minimize the uniquely triune God of the Scriptures, watch out!  If we buy New Age garbage about angels, danger looms large.  We might not have a golden calf in front of us, but we live in a highly syncretistic society.  If there’s one thing we do well, it’s synthesize diverse ideas without any sense of the inherent contradiction of it all.

            The Lord can’t stand it.  He tells Moses to get clear so He can wipe ‘em out and start over.  (I wonder if He was serious, or if He was testing Moses.  He sure seems serious.)  Moses, though, makes an interesting move.  Moses tells Lord that He can’t do that, because 1) He’d look bad in front of the Egyptians, and 2) He promised to prosper Abraham’s children.  God’s people have a hard time with God’s words, but Moses quotes God’s words back at Him!

            You know, we use the word ‘confession’ for two different things.  We confess our sins, and we confess the Lord before the world.  Two different activities, but the same basic thing—we are repeating God’s words back to Him.  In the first case, He says, “You’re a sinner,” and we say, “Yes, we are.”  In the second case, He says, “This is who I am,” and we say, “Yes, you are.”

            What the Lord says is what matters.  He says He is a jealous God, who wants all of our heart, soul, strength, and mind.  He says He won’t share His glory with another.  And, most importantly, He says that He is the God who relents from bring calamity (Joel 2:13).

An Incense Altar, A Census, A Craftsman

            Let me briefly comment on three aspects of today’s reading (Exodus 30-31).

            First, it seems a little out of order, but the final piece of furniture that goes inside the tabernacle is an altar for incense and incense only.  (There’s even a recipe for the incense—30:34-38.)  Later in the Scriptures the use of incense becomes a metaphor for the prayers of God’s people ascending to God’s throne (Ps. 141:2; Rev. 5:8, 8:3-4).  So, the incense altar is apparently an indicator of constant prayer, presumably by God’s people (1 Thess. 5:17).  Of course, God’s people aren’t as constant at anything as they’re supposed to be, so it is a relief to know that the Spirit of God prays within us (Rom. 8:26-27) and that the Son of God prays on our behalf (Rom. 8:34).

            Second, there’s a ‘tax’ on the census.  Apparently, God hates the census, because the people of Israel have to redeem themselves from the plague associated with it (which seems weird, seeing as how the Lord Himself commands a census).  Later, in King David’s reign, there’s a plague when David counts the fighting men (2 Samuel 24).  What’s the big deal?  This is a command specific to Israel (so please, don’t try to make any theological connection to the U. S. Census).  The Lord discourages Israel from counting themselves and their fighting men because such an evaluation will lead them to judge their strength and their prospects for success by the wrong standard.  It’s not the number of soldiers they have; it’s the presence and blessing of the Lord that brings them military success. (Consider the case of Gideon, who reduced his army from 32,000 men to 10,000 men to 300 men; Judges 7.)

            Finally, note the craftsmen—Bezalel and Oholiab.  (What we need here is a good pronunciation guide; I’ll have to see if I can find one to recommend.)  The thing to note here is that the Lord has filled them with their talents, namely, ability, intelligence, knowledge, and craftsmanship.  It pays to recognize that ‘spiritual gifts’ are not just extraordinary abilities ‘magically’ given at conversion.  Because God is the creator, every talent is gift from Him, and every talent used in His service under the direction of the Holy Spirit, Who dwells within us, is a Spiritual gift.

Reflections on Priesthood

            The Old Testament had two significant orders who represented the Lord to the people:  prophets and priests.  Aspects of each office carry over into the contemporary church:  prophets engaged the ministry of the Word and priests engaged in a liturgical service in the tabernacle.  Those aspects of their work carry over into the calling of New Testament pastors who are called to “preach the Word in its truth and purity and to administer the Sacraments according to Christ’s institution.”

            As I was thinking about the garments made for the high priest, I was thinking about my own office as pastor.  I was struck especially by the breastpiece with the 12 precious stones and the names of the sons of Israel.  Here’s the explanation The Lutheran Study Bible gives, “Precious stones covered the heart of the high priest, who bore them before God.  They showed how God regarded the tribes of Israel as precious” (141).  I am often struck by the way that the pastoral office means having the people of God in one’s heart and holding them in prayer in the presence of God.

            Then, I got to thinking:  this is the high priest’s garment.  Aaron’s sons didn’t dress like this.  In fact, pastors are undershepherds, servants of someone who does the work for real.  The book of Hebrews says that we have a great high priest, who knows our struggles (4:14-15).  And Paul declares—of that high priest, Jesus:  “Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us” (Rom. 8:34).  So, Jesus is the One who bears all of us in His heart and holds us up constantly to the Father in His prayer.  He’s the One who declares, “Look how precious they are!”  And, not insignificantly, He’s the One who offers His life for our redemption (Christ the victim, Christ the priest!)

            I love my calling.  I love being a minister of Word and Sacrament.  I love the trust that is given me to hold this people before the Lord.  But I sure do take comfort in the fact that I am only a servant of the One who has done and continues to do the real work, who prays without ceasing, who never grows weary of doing good!

Report from the Tabernacle Building Committee

            I’ll admit it.  I was a day behind on my readings.  (It happens to me often.)  So, this morning I read Exodus 25-29.  The topics included instructions for the tabernacle and its furnishings—the ark of the covenant, the table of the presence, the lampstand, the altar—and the consecration of Aaron and his sons.

            Whenever I read this section of Exodus, I’m always struck by the seeming excess of the tabernacle.  I mean, here are a people who have only recently escaped from slavery.  They have a land to take over and homes to establish and new lives to get up and running.  Now granted they had plundered the Egyptians (Ex. 12:35), but still—ever heard of a rainy day fund?  Last time I looked, gold was selling for over $1,000 an ounce, and their lampstand alone was 75 pounds.  I’m no math major but that works out to a $1 million dollar lampstand.  I know whole church building that didn’t cost that much.

            That raises for me two stewardship kinds of questions.  The first is about our own generosity.  Granted that there were a lot of Israelites, they were still very generous for their sanctuary and its accoutrements.  In the contemporary church we would have had to have had an in-depth study and a long capital campaign to raise pledges for that amount, much less everything up front.  God’s expectations (and later Israel’s generosity) raise the bar for measuring our own generosity.

            The second question is related.  It seems to me that most people couldn’t see their way clear to approving such an expensive building project.  Can’t you just hear the voters’ meeting?  “Why is there a $1 million dollar golden lampstand on this spec sheet?  If we made it out of bronze it would be a fraction of the cost and twice as durable.”  I would come down to a 51-49 vote.  Maybe I’m wrong but it seems to me that the contemporary church is reluctant to honor God with buildings like that.  I wonder why?

            (To muddy the water even further, I also find myself thinking that perhaps the church’s buildings are part of a different problem:  I find myself wondering if we’re so concerned with our buildings that we don’t really engage in God’s mission.  Believe it or not, the two issues are related because they’re about how we honor God.  In the first case, do we give Him our best; in the second case, do we love our buildings more than the mission He has set us to?  If we’re really committed, there ought to be resources enough for both!)

Exodus 23:1-9: Justice

The laws of Moses are often hard to sort out; there doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to them.  Yet there are underlying values that support them.  In Exodus 23, those values are justice, respect, and faithfulness to the Lord.  (I only have time to deal with the first one.)

The call for justice is in verses 1-9, in which the Lord calls His people to be truthful.  Truth and justice go hand in hand.  The sad fact is that we are susceptible to the interests of the powerful.  It is easier to court and cultivate those who have something to offer us than it is to really pay attention to the excluded.  It’s easier to get along than to rock the boat.  It’s easier to live with easy certainties about ‘the way things’ are than to pursue real justice.

Of course, we might look at these verses and say that we don’t do those things.  We don’t join hands with the wicked.  We don’t fall in with evildoers.  That’s assuming the wicked and the evildoer are easily identified!  The end of 23:2 puts the edge on that.  “Nor shall you bear witness in a lawsuit, siding with the many. . .”  So, sometimes simply siding with the majority means ignoring the harder realities that justice demands.  And of course, we’d probably never take a bribe (v. 8).  On the other hand, if we let our own self-interests play a part in the way we deal with people, that’s pretty much the same thing.

Why the concern for justice?  Justice is the correct ordering of God’s world.  Justice means that each one is recognized as the beloved creature of God.  Justice means that each one subsumes his needs under the greater needs of another.  One of the marks of the Messiah’s reign will be the establishment of justice (Isaiah 42:4).  Jesus establishes God’s justice in His death, in which He places His needs under the needs of those whose sin has made them of no account.  Sin casts us as the poor, the outcast, the alien in the presence of God.  In His death, Jesus accounts for the eternal needs of us fallen people, and He does it even though we do not deserve it nor can we repay it.  Justice, then—God’s justice—is closely tied to His grace.  The call for God’s people to be just is a call to be gracious.

An Initial Offering

I've resisted writing a blog for a long time, mainly because most of my thoughts are derivative and have been better said by someone else somewhere else.  That's not false humility.  I synthesize well; I don't imagine well.

However, last fall, I challenged the congregation I serve to read the Bible cover to cover over two years.  In support of that challenge, I offered to provide a blog with reflections on the readings.  This is my attempt.

Because the blog had its genesis in a Bible reading challenge, most of my posts will be about consecutive readings from the Bible.  (We're in Exodus right now; no sense starting with something easy!)  I suppose from time to time, I may add other reflections; I suspect they will have a lot to do with congregational ministry.  I won't rule out the occasional thought about other things that spark my curiosity, either.  I hope someone finds something useful here!