Choose an expanse of sand; mark out an oblong space
forty-five feet long by fifteen feet broad. Lay all along upon your outlines
a continuous belt of silver sockets, hollowed out so as to hold the ends
of the planks that form the walls of the Tabernacle. Now fetch those boards
themselves, beams of acacia wood fifteen feet high, covered with the choicest
gold, and fastened together by three long bars of gold, running from end
to end. The entrance doorway must face the east, composed of five golden
pillars, over which fall the folds of a rich and heavy curtain. Then measure
thirty feet from this, and let another curtain separate the holy from the
most holy place. Now fetch more curtains to make the ceiling, and to hang
down on either side over the gilded acacia beams that form the outer walls;
first, a gorgeous curtain wrought with brilliant hues, and covered with
the forms of cherubim; next, a veil of pure white linen; third, a strong
curtain of rams' skins, dyed red; and, lastly, to defend it from the weather,
a common and coarse covering of badgers' skins. The court is constituted
by heavy curtains that hang around and veil the movements of the priests
within.
Let us cast a brief glance at each item as we briefly
pass from the outer to the inner shrine.
THE BRAZEN ALTAR, with its projecting horns, to
which animals designated for sacrifice were tied (Psalm cxviii. 27), or
on which the fugitive laid hold for sanctuary and shelter (Exod. xxi. 14),
stood in the outer court. There were offered the sin offering, the burnt
offering, and the peace offering. It was deemed most holy (Exod. xxix.
37.) And well it might be; for it was the symbol of the cross of Calvary,
that wondrous cross where Jesus offered himself as a sacrifice for sin;
himself both priest and victim and altar too.
None could enter the holy place, save by passing
this sacred emblem, any more than we could ever have entered into fellowship
with God, unless there had been wrought for us upon the cross that one
all-sufficient sacrifice and oblation for sins, which purges our heart
from an evil conscience. The longer we live, and the more we know of God,
the more precious and indispensable does that cross appear: our hope in
sorrow, our beacon in the dark, our shelter in the storm, our refuge in
hours of conviction, our trysting-place with God, our pride and joy.
THE SEVEN-BRANCHED CANDLESTICK, from which the light
was shed which lit up the holy place, would first arrest the eye of the
priest, who might cross the threshold for the first time. Its form is familiar
to us from the bas-relief upon the Arch of Titus. How eloquently does it
speak of Christ! The texture of beaten gold, on every part of which the
hammer strokes had fallen, tells of his bruisings for us (Exod. xxv. 36).
The union of the six lesser lamps, with the one tall Center one, betokens
the mystery of that union in light-giving which makes the Church one with
her Lord forevermore in illuminating a dark world. The golden oil, stealing
through the golden pipes that needed to be kept clean and unchoked, shows
our dependence on him for supplies of the daily grace of the Holy Spirit
(Zech. iv. 2). And the very snuffers, all of gold, used wisely by the high-priest
to trim the flame, are significant of those processes by which our dear
Lord is often obliged to cut away the unevenness of the wick, and to cause
us a momentary dimming of light that we may afterward burn more clearly
and steadily. His life is the light of men. In his light we see light.
He sheds light on hearts and homes and mysteries and space; and hereafter
the Lamb shall be the light of heaven.
THE GOLDEN SHEWBREAD TABLE must not be over looked,
with its array of twelve loaves of fine flour, sprinkled with sweet smelling
frankincense, and eaten only by the priests, when replaced on the seventh
day by a fresh supply. Here again, as in the last symbol, is that mysterious
blending of Christ and his people. Christ is the true bread of presence.
He is the bread of God. Jehovah finds in his obedience and life and death
perfect satisfaction; and we too feed on him. His flesh is meat indeed.
We eat his flesh and live by him. The table was portable, so as to be carried
in the journeyings of the people; and we can never thrive without taking
him with us wherever we go. This is the heavenly manna; our daily bread;
our priestly perquisite. But the people also were represented in those
twelve loaves, as they were in the twelve stones of the breastplate. And
doubtless there is a sense in which all believers still stand ever before
God in the purity and sweetness of Christ; "for we, being many, are one
bread and one body, for we are all partakers of that one bread." Oh, is
it possible for me to give aught of satisfaction to God? To believe this
would surely instill a new meaning into the most trivial acts of life.
Yet this may be so.
THE CENSER, OR ALTAR OF INCENSE, is classed with
the most holy place; not because it stood inside the veil, but because
it was so closely associated with the worship rendered there. It was as
near as possible to the ark (Exod.xxx. 6). It reminds us of the golden
altar which was before the throne (Rev. viii. 3). No blood ever dimmed
the luster of the gold; the ashes that glowed there were brought from the
altar of burnt offering; and on them were sprinkled the incense, which
had been compounded by very special art (Exod. xxx. 34-38). That precious
incense, which it was death to imitate, speaks of his much merit, in virtue
of which our prayers and praises find acceptance. Is not this his perpetual
work for us, standing in heaven as our great High Priest? ever living
to make intercession, catching our poor prayers, and presenting them to
his Father, fragrant with the savor of his own grace and loveliness and
merit?
THE VEIL, passed only once a year by the high-priest,
carrying blood, reminded the worshipers that the way into the holiest was
not yet perfect. There were degrees of fellowship with God to which those
rites could give no introduction. "The way into the holiest was not yet
made manifest." "The veil, that is to say, his flesh" (Heb. x. 20). Oh,
fine twined linen, in thy purity, thou wert never so pure as that body
which was conceived without sin! Oh, exquisite work of curious imagery,
thou canst not vie with the marvelous mysteries that gather in that human
form! Yet, till Jesus died, there was a barrier, an obstacle, a veil. It
was bespattered with blood, but it was a veil still. But at the hour when
he breathed out his soul in death, the veil was rent by mighty unseen hands
from top to bottom, disclosing all the sacred mysteries beyond to the unaccustomed
eyes of any priests who at that moment may have been burning incense at
the hour of prayer, while the whole multitude stood without (Luke i. 9).
It is a rent veil now, and the way into the holiest lies open. It is new
and living and blood-marked; we may therefore tread it without fear or
mistake, and pass in with holy boldness to stand where angels veil their
faces with their wings in ceaseless adoration (x. 19, 20).
THE ARK. A box, oblong in shape, 4 ft. 6 in. in
length, by 2 ft. 8 in. in breadth and height; made of acacia wood, overlaid
with gold; its lid, a golden slab, called the mercy-seat, on which cherubic
forms stood or knelt, with eyes fixed on the blood stained golden slab
between them; for it was on the mercy-seat that the blood was copiously
sprinkled year by year, and there the Shekinah light ever shone. In the
wilderness wanderings the ark contained the tables of stone, not broken
but whole, the manna, and the rod. But when it came to rest, and the staves
were drawn out, the manna, food for pilgrims, and the rod, which symbolized
the power of life, were gone; only the law remained.
The law can never be done away with.
It is holy, just, and good. Not one jot or tittle can pass away from it.
It is at the heart of all things. Beneath all surfaces, below all coverlets,
deeper than the foam and tumult and revolution of the world, rests righteous
and inexorable law. We must all yield to its imperial sway. Even the atheist
must build his walls according to the dictates of the plumb-line, or they
will inevitably crumble to ruin.
But law is under love. The golden
mercy-seat exactly covered and hid the tables, as they no longer leaped
from crag to crag, but lay quietly beneath it. An ark without a covering,
and from which tables of stony law looked out on one, would be terrible
indeed. But there need be no dread to those who know that God will commune
with them from above a mercy-seat which completely meets the case and is
sprinkled with blood. We are told by the Apostle, who had well read the
deepest meaning of these types, that "God hath set forth Christ Jesus as
a mercy seat, through faith in his blood" (Rom. iii. 24, 25). Jesus has
met the demands of law by his golden life and his death of blood; and we
may meet God's righteousness in him. Our own righteousness would be an
insufficient covering, too narrow and too short; but our Substitute has
met every possible demand. "Who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that
died." Grace reigns through righteousness unto eternal life.
But ah, no blood of goat or calf can speak the priceless
value of his blood, by which we have access into the holiest. Oh, precious
blood! which tells of a heart breaking with love and sorrow; which betrays
a life poured out like water on the ground in extremest agony; which gathers
up all the meaning of Leviticus and its many hecatombs of victims; the
pledge of tenderest friendship, the purchase money of our redemption, the
wine of life: thy scarlet thread speaks to us from the windows of the past
in symbols of joy and hope and peace and immortal love. The precious blood
of Christ!