Thursday, January 31, 2013

God with Us



            “The cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.”  Those are two important lines.  Why did we wade through chapter after chapter of specifications and building plans?  Because Israel’s God was making arrangements to dwell in her midst.  This is out of character for ancient gods.  Remember the Greek gods and where they lived—high atop Mt. Olympus, far removed from the toils and travails of human life.  Sure, they’d come down once in a while, often working mischief when they did, but their life and desire was somewhere else.  But not the God of Israel!  Although He is the creator of heaven and earth and although the whole cosmos cannot contain Him, His desire is to be in the presence of His people.  Forty years later, when Israel is finally ready to enter the land the Lord promised them, Moses will comment on this, “What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the LORD our God is near us whenever we pray to him” (NIV Deuteronomy 4:7)?
            God dwells with Israel in the tabernacle.  But consider the wider story.  The creation is cast in some ways as God creating a ‘temple’ for Himself, a place in which He may dwell side-by-side with His beloved Creation.  The Fall into sin is, in a sense, man’s destruction of that temple.  But the Lord stays close, speaking to Noah, Abraham, and Jacob.  Here in Exodus He instructs Moses in how to build a ‘replica tabernacle’ in which He may graciously dwell.  Almost 500 years in the future , Solomon will improve that replica in a permanent temple in which the Lord will also graciously dwell.  And the dwelling of God with man will come to its climax when the Son of God adopts human flesh and dwells among us, revealing His glory in miracles, in the grace of the cross, and in the resurrection.  Then, read ahead to Revelation and see what God’s ultimate plans are:  a new heaven and a new earth, a new temple for His dwelling with humanity.  In that vision, there is no temple, because the whole creation again is a temple. 
            Our God wants to dwell in our presence and wants us to dwell in His.  He delights in us.  With that in mind, we might find an acceptable answer to why we have so much detail about this tent in the wilderness.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Meticulously Building the Temple



            Today’s reading is a head-scratcher.  It is a detail by detail telling of how exactly Bezalel and the craftsmen of Israel built the tabernacle.  The thing is it reads like a publishing error; it reads like someone accidentally repeated chapters 26, 27, and 30.  What are we to make of that?  Let me suggest three things.
            First, ancient writings are often very repetitive.  It’s simple an aspect of ancient style—not just in the Bible but in other writings contemporary with the Bible.  Part of this may be because the cultures transmitted most of their information orally and repetition served as an aid to memory.  So, we should just get used to the fact that Moses wouldn’t be winning any Pulitzers among us, but by the standards of his day he writes just like he’s supposed to.
            Second, and more importantly, we ought to note that what we have here is a relatively rare occasion of Israel living up to her vocation.   She was called to be God’s peculiar people and that uniqueness was supposed to be expressed in her obedience.  We have all sorts of examples of Israel’s failure, her disobedience.  Here we have an example where she did exactly what the Lord had said—exactly.  We could get all cynical and say, “Well, they’re so ashamed of the whole golden calf thing that of course they’re over compensating.”  I suppose you could make that case.  I’d rather see it that with the tabernacle, the place where their God was going to meet with them and forgive them, they saw something that was too important to mess up.
            But the most important aspect of the exactness of the tabernacle’s construction is an aspect that finds its focus in the New Testament.  Consider the sweeping ‘phases’ of the Bible’s story.  Israel’s early life is dominated by the tabernacle; the tabernacle is eventually replaced with the temple in Jerusalem; and both find their fulfillment in Jesus.  The Gospel of John draws on both images in John 1-2 to describe Jesus.  John 1:14 says that “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”  The word translated ‘made his dwelling’ is a form of the word ‘tent/tabernacle.’  Literally the verse says, “The Word became flesh and pitched his tent/tabernacle among us.”  Then in John 2, John records the cleansing of the temple and identifies Jesus’ body with the temple.
            “Fair enough,” you say, “but what does it have to do with this repetitive reading?”  It seems to me that the tabernacle, like the temple after it, needs to be built ‘on spec’ because it is an institution that foreshadows Jesus, who does all things well, who is completely faithful to His Father, who is the perfect human being.  In the grand scheme of biblical theology, the tabernacle is meticulously constructed because it will draw us forward to the One who is Himself God’s meticulous remaking of our race and who is Himself meticulous in His devotion to the Lord.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Tabernacle Offerings



            It would be hard to read these two chapters and not think about stewardship.
            The first thing that stands out is that Exodus does not say that every Israelite brought a gift for the tabernacle.  It does say that everyone who was willing brought a gift.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I don’t think the Lord is condoning that there were those who were not willing, but I do think there’s an important lesson there, namely, that not everyone is in the same place with their faith.  Some just aren’t ready to make those commitments of time and treasure that are signs of a growing and deepening faith.  While we should present the faith in such a way as to encourage taking that step toward generosity, we should not judge those who aren’t there yet.
            The second thing that stands out is that those who did bring gifts kept on bringing them and eventually had to be stopped.  I wonder what exactly that line means in Exodus 36:3.  It might mean that the same people kept coming back with more and more gifts, or it might mean that new people became motivated by their neighbor’s generosity to give gifts of their own.  Both are good lessons. 
            In the first instance, I’m reminded of Paul’s statement in Galatians 6, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”  Sometimes it can get discouraging when it seems like the same people are providing all the support and doing all the work in the church.  Paul’s advice is to keep at it, and you can make a case that that’s just what the Israelites did.  It’s a mistake to evaluate our expression of faith in light of someone else.  The question ought not be, “What did someone else do?”  It ought to be, “What am I doing?”
            In the second case, I think that a good outcome is when the generosity of time and treasure motivates others to step up in a similar way.  Good examples are important and they can be effective.  In terms of modern church life, I’m not quite sure how to make those examples public.  I mean, we are a pretty close people when it comes to our money.  (Back in the day, churches used to publish who gave what in the annual report.  You can imagine how that would fly today!)  I do like the practice of testimonials, when people simply tell their stories about maturing in the grace of giving and the differences it made in their lives.  Good examples, well presented, can motivate others.
            Finally, I’d just note the last bit of the story.  I think I speak for pastors everywhere when I say that most of us would love to have the problem of too many offerings!  Because churches struggle to make ends meet so often, it is comforting to think that there is at least one example of having too much.  So, bring those offerings on.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Faces Aglow



            First, a thing I can’t explain.  In Exodus 33:11, the Lord spoke to Moses face to face; in Exodus 33:20-23, Moses can’t see the Lord’s face and live so that Lord shows him His back.  In Exodus 34, Moses glows because He has been in the Lord’s presence.
            One of my professors suggested no man, sinful as we are, can stand in God’s unmediated presence.  However, in Moses’ case (and a few other cases), my professor suggested that the Lord ‘dialed it back,’ so that Moses saw a portion of God’s glory.  It’s as good an explanation as any, and it fits will with Isaiah 6, where the prophet worries that he will die for seeing God, but an angel announces his forgives and therefore his ability to stand in God’s presence.  Whatever we make of it, the one point that is unmistakable is that Moses spent time in the presence of God and everyone in the camp knew it.
            Now, let me suggest that as Christians, we ought to reflect in this direction:  we, too, are blessed to be the people who stand in God’s presence and see His glory.  The preface for Epiphany (the part of the liturgy right before the consecration of the elements in the Lord’s Supper) gets at this.  It notes that in Jesus the Lord has revealed His glory in human flesh, and the connection with the Real Presence of Jesus’ Body and Blood in the supper means that in bread and wine we see the glory of God.
            I don’t know how often we think of that.  Moses had his tent in which He met the Lord.  That same Lord walked and talked among His people in the person of Jesus.  And that same Lord inserts Himself into our lives in the Supper.  In all three cases, humans are blessed to have God in their midst.
            So, my first reflection on this little story:  how blessed we are to have a God who continues to dwell in our midst and show His glory—the glory of His saving grace—to us.
            My second reflection is more an exhortation:  wouldn’t it be nice if our faces ‘glowed’ after we had seen the Lord?  Sometimes with the Lord’s Supper it’s is just mechanical ritual; we’re going through the motions.  But it’s meant to be more than that.  It’s our encounter with the living God; it’s our union with Him.  In bread and wine, Jesus lives in us.  The Supper communicates forgiveness to us, but it also communicates Christ’s new life to us.  That new life ought to be like the ‘glow’ on Moses’ face; we ought to come out of our encounter with our God radiating—radiating the joy of being forgiven, the joy of granting forgiveness, the joy of being loved, and the joy of loving.  Would that we had to cover our faces because the reflection of God was so bright on them!

Friday, January 25, 2013

Lessons from the Incident of the Golden Calf

Exodus 32:  http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=ex%2032&version=NIV1984

            What a fascinating account!  Notice first that the people are impatient.  Moses was on the mountain 40 days, and they assume him missing or dead.  In the absence of immediate leadership and against such a “long” delay, the people demand progress.
            I’ve thought about that in terms of church work a lot.  I’m a pretty driven guy.  I like to get things done.  I like to plan opportunities for spiritual growth and measure results.  So, you can imagine that sometimes church work is frustrating:  things don’t grow, they don’t have the impact desired, people leave because ‘not enough is getting done,’ there’s greater conflict instead of greater maturity.  Then, I’m forced to wonder if all of my planning is just erecting a golden calf, a god of my making.  The concept of patiently enduring is so common in the Scriptures; perhaps sometimes it would just be healthier if I set my plans aside and waited.  I don’t know.  I do think that using the brains God gave us in service of His kingdom is pleasing to Him, but I also think that sometimes our plans result from our impatience in getting things done and turn into idols.
            That thought is furthered by another phenomenon in the story.  The Hebrew word for “God” is the exact, same form as the word “gods.”  So, there’s this ambiguity.  Did the people of Israel demand ‘gods’ or and image of ‘God’?  It seems they weren’t entirely clear on that point.  Aspects of the grammar favor the way NIV translates, “Make us gods!”  On the other hand, Aaron declares a feast for Yahweh, the “God” of Israel (v. 5).
            I’d remind you that ancient societies were polytheistic and it’s very likely that the people of Israel were polytheistic, too.  Their God made claims about His superiority to every other so-called god, but they likely would have heard those claims as this way:  “There are lots of gods in the world, and our god is demonstrating his superiority to those gods.”  The point is that in building their calf Israel wasn’t completely rejecting their God; they were doing what all sorts of ancient people did and putting their god together with imagery of the other gods out there.
            We do that, too.  Whenever we assume that the Triune God means prosperity or power, we’ve done the same thing.  We’ve put the gods of the world—power/prosperity—together with our God and called it the same thing.  In terms of my church work analogy, it works the same way:  I can put my desire, my god as it were, to be successful and important together with doing the Lord’s work and without even realizing it—bam! golden calf.  I’ve built an idol and excused it by calling it God. 
            So, in summary, idolatry isn’t always obvious, and sometimes it results from a convenient marriage of our desires, our timing, and our god.  Sometimes, idolatry claims the name of the true God.
            The other thing that jumped off the page for me is that the Lord is completely ticked off about the situation.  He has good reason for it!  Afflicted Pharaoh, led Israel out of slavery, parted the Red Sea, gave them a new national life, revealed His desires for them as clearly as could be hoped—and this is the thanks He gets!  I get a charge out of the Lord’s statement to Moses (v. 10), “Begone!  Leave me so I can stew and work up a really righteous anger!”  But the thing that is even more powerful is Moses’ response.  1) You destroy them, you waste your work in bringing them out; 2) you destroy them, the Egyptians mock you; 3)  you destroy them, you’ll have failed to keep your promises.  Now that’s the way to pray!  Moses prays on the basis of God’s past actions, on the basis of His glory and honor in the world, and on the basis of His promises.  Martin Luther used to talk about prayer as rubbing God’s promises in His ears.  Prayer is the child’s reminder to its parent, “You promised!”  And if there’s one thing we should take to the bank about our God, it’s that He keeps His promises!
            There’s more here, but a warning about the subtleties of idolatry and a short instruction on prayer is pretty good for one day’s reflection.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Once More with Furniture

Exodus 30-31:  http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus%2030:1-31:18&version=NIV1984

            Among other things, these two chapters bring us the remainder of the tabernacle’s furnishings—the altar of incense and the basin.
            The basin actually sat outside of the tabernacle proper.  That is, it was in the ‘courtyard’ around the tabernacle, meaning the tent itself.  It served a very obvious function, namely, cleaning up.  Many of the offerings brought to the Lord in the tabernacle involved blood sacrifice, and the basin provided a source of water for literally washing.  That washing also had a sort of extended meaning, too, as Exodus 30:19-21 indicate.  The priests were to ceremonially wash their hands and feet before doing the Lord’s work.  Peter alludes to this in his first letter:
. . . and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a good conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 3:21).
Now, I always feel compelled to point out that Peter says the water of the Flood is a symbol (actually he calls it an anti-type, a counterpart, a foreshadowing) for Baptism.  He does not say Baptism is a symbolic act.  Baptism, according to Peter does something: it saves.  Whatever.  We’ll deal with that in when we read the New Testament.  My point is that the basin in the tabernacle’s courtyard serves a deeper function.  The washing of hands and feet in some way prepares the priest to be in the presence of the Holy One of Israel.  There’s a baptismal overtone to it.  (Of course, in the New Testament every Christian is baptized and every Christian is equally a priest who enters the presence of God.)  Finally, we may hear some echoes of Jesus’ claim to be the water of life here, too (John 4), although the stretch there is that the water of the basin is not for drinking, but for washing.
            The other piece of furniture described today is the altar of incense.  Relatively small (18 inches square and 36 inches high), it was designed to have incense burned on it twice a day.  Now, I used incense in worship in college a few times.  You don’t need a very big fire or much incense to produce a very large cloud of smoke.  So the dimensions are adequate for the job.  Incense had a very practical function.  Consider that many sacrifices included the spattering of blood, and you can imagine that the tabernacle smelled bad.  The incense would have masked some of that.  However, the bigger significance of the incense is the much more common assertion that the Bible makes about it, namely, that it represents the prayers of God’s people ascending before Him (Ps 141, various places in Revelation).  In terms of a Jesus connection, there’s that, too, since the New Testament teaches that Jesus’ constantly intercedes for us  before the Father’s throne (Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25).

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Tabernacle Furniture--Ark, Table, Lamp



            There are so many things to comment on in the tabernacle, it’s hard to know how to get it all in.  As the pastor of a local church, I am tempted to comment on the sheer extravagance of the thing.  (Perhaps I’ll make it into a stewardship thought in a few chapters—when the offerings come in.)  We’ll have a chance to talk about God’s gracious presence in the tabernacle in a few days when we read about its completion.  For today, let’s focus on the furniture.
            Today, three pieces of furniture are described for the tabernacle.  The first is the ark.  Ark is not some technical word.  It simply means a box.  (That’s right, Noah floated on the waters in a ‘box.’)  The first hint that this ‘box’ is different comes when its cover is described.  It has an ‘atonement cover,’ or, as older translations have it, a ‘mercy seat.’  There are two substantial elements here.  First, the cover is going to be important in the forgiveness of sins.  We won’t know this until later, but on the day of atonement, the high priest will approach the atonement cover, and sprinkle it with the blood of the sacrifice to make atonement, that is, reparation, for the sins of the people.  Honestly, this could hardly be easier to connect to the great Christian hope, namely, that Jesus, the great and final sacrifice would pour out His blood before the Father on the cross and make atonement for the sins of all humanity.  The second aspect is that it’s seat.  Someone, presumably, sits on it.  That someone is the Lord God, Creator of heaven and earth.  The ark is God’s ‘throne.’  He seats enthroned between the cherubim (Ps. 99:1), both in His ‘heavenly’ throne room (cf. Isaiah 6) and in His tabernacle.  The significance of this is that the God of heaven and earth dwells uniquely in the midst of His people Israel and the purpose of His dwelling there is to proclaim forgiveness and reconciliation through the blood of the sacrifice.  (More on that next week.)
            The second piece of furniture is a table with bread on it.  Bread is an important, basic food for much of humanity and human history.  The presence of this table is a reminder of several things.  First, it is a reminder that the Lord is the one who provides food to the people of the earth (Ps. 145:16) and that He is the one who has provides for Israel especially through the provision of manna.  More, the presence of the bread before the Lord reflects on Israel’s unique place in God’s purpose.  They are a sort of firstfruits to the Lord, the first portion of the harvest, already presented before the Lord as a new humanity.  I do think it’s significant, too, that Jesus declares Himself the Bread of Life, the bread from heaven.  He provides the life that never ends, the life that humanity most desperately needs, and He is the truly ‘new human,’ who ushers in the renewal of humanity through His death and resurrection.
            Finally, today’s reading describes a lampstand.  There are many resonances here, too.  The Lord’s first act of creation was to call light into existence.  He Himself lit the way for Israel as a pillar of fire in the Exodus.  So there is the enlightening presence of the Lord in play here.  More than that, Israel is called to be a light for the world.  In the same way, Jesus declares Himself the light of the world (John 1 and 3 and 8 and 9 and 12), and He calls His Church to be a light for the world, too (Matthew 5:14).
            These pieces of furniture, then, have great significance as metaphors for the greater story of God’s dealings with Israel and with humanity.  The tabernacle is a visual reminder that the God of Israel created the world and humanity, that He originally dwelt within and with that creation, and that His earnest desire is still to dwell with human kind.  The tabernacle and its furniture becomes a foreshadowing of Jesus, the ultimate dwelling of God with men, and of the final Christian hope, the restoration of paradise and the dwelling of God with men in eternity.