Category: Inspiration

To Where Do We Flee?

On By Bp. Justin ElwellIn Applied Theology, InspirationLeave a comment

“Tell the people of Israel to take up a collection for me – accept a contribution from anyone who wholeheartedly wants to give” (Ex. 25:2).

The Torah portion of תְּרוּמָה/T’rumah, contribution, begins the intricate narrative focusing on the construction of the Tabernacle in the wilderness; instructions that will account for one-third (1/3rd) of the Book of Exodus itself. As Moses elaborates on the pattern revealed to him on Mt. Sinai (Ex. 25:9), ultimately hundreds of verses will describe its construction and purpose, a purpose that will serve Israel for nearly five hundred years.

It is easy to overlook, or even ignore, the complex details recorded to ensure that the Tabernacle is built to the exact specifications of the Lord. For something that long ago slipped into the history, do we really need to consider these details at all? While it is beyond the scope of this article to examine in detail the meaning of the elements of the Tabernacle, I just finished a several month series on this topic archived on the Messiah Congregation Facebook page (@Messiah3810), we do note its importance by simple comparison.

The Torah opens in Genesis 1 with the account of creation. In this chapter we find the beginning of all things: the heavens and the earth and all their array. This is described in thirty-four verses. By comparison, the Tabernacle and its ministry, inhabiting but the tiniest speck of creation, is detailed in fifty chapters. Why is the Tabernacle given such attention? Is it of greater importance than creation itself? Not greater importance, just a different importance.

Creation is a general revelation of the majesty, sovereignty and glory of the Lord, as we read in Psalm 19:1, “The heavens declare the glory of God, the dome of the sky speaks the work of his hands.” The Tabernacle is part of His special revelation to humanity, specifically covenant humanity. Its purpose is to change and repair the heart, allowing for reconciliation and peace in the human community living and working in His creation.

When considering the flow of the narrative from Exodus 24 to Exodus 25, something seems amiss. The rabbinic sages note that Exodus 25 is the cure sent before the illness of the Golden Calf in Exodus 32:1:

“When the people saw that Moses was taking a long time to come down from the mountain, they gathered around Aaron and said to him, ‘Get busy; and make us gods to go ahead of us; because this Moses, the man that brought us up from the land of Egypt – we don’t know what has become of him.” Aaron then receives contributions of gold from people whose hearts were motivated to give to this cause: the cause to manufacture the Golden Calf.

Why place the cure before the illness? At times it is not necessarily what you are saying that has the greatest impact, but rather, the order in which you are saying it. For future generations of God’s covenant people, to read about the molding of the Golden Calf, and the plague that resulted, might have become an insurmountable stumbling block of fear in light of so great a sin. Yet, by placing the instructions for the Tabernacle, with its furnishings, offerings and sacrifices ministering reconciliation with the Lord before the record of the Golden Calf, it demonstrated that His forgiveness, grace and mercy is greater than our sin. It is an assurance of acceptance, when we make תשובה/t’shuvah, a return, to Him.

The sin of the Golden Calf began as an issue of covetousness, thus violating the tenth commandment. This sin led Israel to violate the second commandment, that of idolatry. In both cases we find a heart issue. The hearts of the covenant people desired a visible god to go before them, revealing that an idol had already crept into the “holy of holies” in their hearts, displacing the covenant Lord. To remedy this, atonement had to be made, and the hearts of the people had to be changed: the ministry of the Brazen Altar.

When building a house, the standard practice is to first build the foundation, the walls, the roof and the finish work, and then add the furnishings. As the Lord details the construction, He does not reveal the boards or coverings of the Tabernacle first, but what will be placed in the most sacred of locations: the Ark of the Covenant in the Holy of Holies. This is the place where the blood on יוֹם הַכִּפֻּרִים/Yom HaKippurim, the Day of Atonements, will be sprinkled, covering the broken tablets of the Law, the manna and the staff of Aaron, where the light of the Lord is the only light, and the two cherubim, those armed angels guarding the way into the Garden (Genesis 3:24), will be still in the presence of atonement, later bearing witness to the resurrection in the tomb of Messiah, and His ascension (Jn. 20:12; Acts 1:10).

The Tabernacle is built by contributions, תְּרוּמָה/T’rumah, from those whose hearts moved them to give (Ex. 25:1-2), just as the Golden Calf was created by the stirring of motivated hearts to contribute. While the Golden Calf led to exaltation, partying (Ex. 32:4-6), death and despair, the pattern of the Tabernacle leads to reconciliation by the substitutionary sacrifice of the innocent animal offered by those approaching the holy one of Israel with a broken and contrite heart, in a posture of repentance: brokenness leading to healing and joy.

The Tabernacle demonstrates to us that our first love must, in fact, be first. When the children of Israel wholeheartedly contributed of their treasure to the construction of the Tabernacle, they were placing their treasure where their hearts desired to be – and in that place the Lord would “dwell among them” (Ex. 25:8). Messiah said, “Do not store up for yourselves wealth here on earth, where moths and rust destroy, and burglars break in and steal. Instead, store up for yourselves wealth in heaven, where neither moth nor rest destroys, and burglars do not break in or steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matt 6:19-21).

Israel demonstrates for us that any attempt to replace the covenant Lord with something of our own creation will only end in failure and heartache.

How can we determine where our treasure is? Where our first love is?

We must ask ourselves this question, “To what do we flee when things go wrong?” Do we flee to the Lord? Or do we flee from Him?

The contribution building the Tabernacle reminds us that our treasure is, and is with the Lord: Who redeems us, forgives us, provides for us, and Who mercifully waited for us even while we are yet far off, “For while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Ro. 5:8).

Let us flee to the risen Messiah, Yeshua/Jesus, Who gave His life for us, even with the depth of sin that we had known: His blood is enough; His grace is enough; He is enough. And now, He has built His Tabernacle in us, and His contribution paid it all.

Why all the detail about the Tabernacle? Why chapters and chapters about the work of Christ? The Father wants us to know the depth, the breadth and height of His grace, love, and mercy when we come before Him in need.

Be well. Shalom.

The Trouble with: AND

On By Bp. Justin ElwellIn Applied Theology, Inspiration1 Comment

After the revelation on Mt. Sinai of the Ten Commandments, the next portion in the Torah cycle opens with two words: וְאֵלֶּה, הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים, “And these are the statutes.”

The Torah portion called Mishpatim/Statutes signals a drastic change from historical narrative and revelation, to chapters of legal code. Again, mishpatim itself means “statutes,” and we begin to look at statutory law in Israel, concerning the covenant community of God.

The ten commandments are apodictic, divine law; while beginning in Exodus 21:1, casuistic or case law, which is conditional in nature, is now in view. Casuistic law refers to the incidents or circumstances that emerge in life, meaning “if this” than “this.” Many of these instructions direct us in the right way to love our neighbor, stranger and even enemy as ourselves.

Yet, as is so often the case, one word can mean so much. Depending on when and where you were educated (in English grammar), you probably learned that beginning a sentence with the conjunction “and” is incorrect. And for strict grammarians it probably remains so … yes, I started that sentence ironically. Even though I am aware that it is not incorrect, I still wrestle with doing so. Thankfully, Moses did not have trouble with English rules of grammar.

The portion of Mishpatim/Statutes, opens with the conjunctive letter “ו,” which means “and.” וְאֵלֶּה, “And these…” Exodus 21:1. The conjunctive vav connects the previous subject with what follows after it.

There is an important lesson to learn from this: the casuistic law, the “if … then …” statements were revealed upon Mt. Sinai with the apodictic laws contained in the ten commandments.

I’ve often explained that the horizontal love of neighbor and stranger is an important outworking of the vertical love we have for the Lord God, the two tablets of the Law. With this tiny letter, ו/vav, a simple stroke of the scribes hand, we find how true this is.

Walking in faith is not just about our responsibility and devotion towards God, but also to our fellow, in our environment. Moses is careful to show that the sanctity of our business, civil and interpersonal relationships is as important as our relationship with the Lord. Why? We live out the reality of our vertical relationship within the framework of the horizontal communal reality.

Two Scriptures, of many, speak powerfully to this:

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (Jas. 1:27).

“So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets” (Matt. 7:12).

So often our minds get caught up in and overwhelmed by the dense legal matter of sections such as Mishpatim/Statutes. Yet, as I’ve often taught, these detailed instructions are an elucidation of the ten commandments themselves. Now, the vertical devotion enumerated in the ten are amplified in the dozens of situations where humanity intersects with humanity in the realm of society. How does God enter that setting? The devoted actor present in the situation.

It is our devotion to the unseen God in the midst of the, often difficult, seen reality that manifests His presence, and our devotion to Him for the world around us.

The conjunctive vav not only moves our text forward, but it also connects our forward movement to the past revelation. It was not only the presence of the Living God and the ten commandments revealed on Mt. Sinai, but also those seemingly mundane “legal matters” of every day life that God gave to Moses in order for Him to be present in our business deals, in our marriages and families, our communities, and in our walking along the way.

The vav/and connects the mundane to the supernatural, and makes our spiritual lives very much part of our every day life. “And” becomes a bridge between heaven and earth in faith-obedience to the Messiah, and stakes or holds the revelation of heaven firmly upon the earth into which we have been sent (Matt. 28:18-20, the Hebrew letter ו/vav resembles a tent peg).

Be well. Shalom.

Wondrously Made

On By Bp. Justin ElwellIn Applied Theology, Inspiration1 Comment

Raising children is not for the faint of heart. There are times of soaring joys, along with times of deep sorrows and concerns. I have yet to find a time when I am still not praying for my adult sons, and I am sure that many of you can relate.

There is an interesting textual oddity in Exodus 18. This slight, almost unnoticeable difference to what had come before it, speaks to the heart of how we raise children as individual lives formed by the hand of God.

In my family I am the oldest child, by many years. In my situation, there was no comparison to the successes or failures of my siblings as we grew up. Yet, for whatever reason, I was acutely aware of how much it hurt my friends when their parents, in times of correction, would compare them with their siblings: “why can’t you be more like …?” Or similar statements.

Moses and his wife Zipporah show us something remarkable as we approach our children, and how we shepherd others along in life as well. As Jethro, Zipporah’s father, returns Moses’ family to him after the exodus from Egypt, the Torah says of the two boys: שֵׁם הָאֶחָד, גֵּרְשֹׁם, “the name of one is Gershom” … וְשֵׁם הָאֶחָד, אֱלִיעֶזֶר, “and the name of one is Eliezer” (Ex. 18:3, 4, respectively).

This is a change from the usual language pattern of the Torah, which, if there is more than one son: there is one son, then the second son, and so forth. This sets the sons in order for purposes of inheritance and blessing. Yet Moses and Zipporah were careful not to follow this pattern. Why?

If you have read the Book of Genesis, you may have noticed the strife between the sons of the patriarchs regarding position, blessing, and leadership. Moses changes this ever so slightly. Gershom is the oldest, and he has a position given to him by God. Eliezer is the younger, but he is no less loved or favored. What do we learn from this?

Consider the words of David: “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well” (Ps. 139:14). David says נִפְלֵיתִי, “I am wondrously made.” Another way, amplified, “I am uniquely made to be me.”

For Moses and Zipporah their sons were the only Gershom and the only Eliezer. They were unique. They were not the other. Moses and Zipporah recognized their sons uniqueness, and the Torah forever records how they loved them. In their family, they recognized each child as unique, special, gifted in their own right. Moses and Zipporah would raise them and direct them, but they would not raise them one against the other, or exactly the same. They had the presence of mind, and a depth of relationship with their sons to know how to raise them, uniquely, in the “fear and admonition of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4).

Children are not uniform. Even with the same parents and environment, they grow as their unique selves, guided, we pray, by involved godly parents. Moses and Zipporah, in these few words, encourage us to be involved with our child(ren) in such a way as to shepherd their personalities as God has formed them. Recognize their strengths and weaknesses. Respond to them in a manner that encourages their strengths, but also strengthens their points of weakness according to the wise counsel of God’s Word and faith in Christ.

You, dear reader, are also unique. There is no one else who has ever been or ever will be like you. You have been wondrously made, and I pray, even more wondrously renewed (II Cor. 5:17). As a shepherd, I must recognize the unique person that the Father is reforming before me (Ro. 8:29), and communicate in such a way as to encourage them along the way…and sometimes correct their course. Speaking to their individual strengths and weakness according to the wise counsel of God’s Word and faith in Christ, as noted above.

Moses and Zipporah honored the uniqueness of their sons, and in their uniqueness they strengthened their lives and relationships. Gershom was free to be Gershom. Eliezer was free to be Eliezer. Neither had to be the other.

We learn this lesson at the foot of Sinai, where a nation would learn to be a unique, chosen nation among nations, even with their imperfections. And what is a nation but unique people joined in covenant together, ensuring the life, safety and wellbeing of the neighbors and strangers around them, according to the Word of God.

In our parental relationships, in our shepherding relationships, and our communal relationships, let us remember that we have all been wondrously made, and supernaturally renewed by the Father, through the Son, in the power of the Holy Spirit. I am me, and you are you, but in all things, let us show forth Christ to all (I Pet. 2:9-10).

Be well. Shalom.