Look back with me three thousand five hundred years. At that time, my people, the Hebrews, had already been slaves for 430 years under the Pharaoh of Egypt. We endured bitter oppression and cried out to the Lord for deliverance. Yet, as generation after generation passed, many lost heart.
We were at risk of losing our cultural norms and our native tongue, Hebrew. Our belief in the one true God became increasingly entangled with the ways and beliefs of our taskmasters. Over time, my people fell into the ultimate error of idol worship. Spiritually, we were at a shallow point. The teachings of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were fading from memory, and fathers no longer passed down the stories of our ancestors to their children.
As displaced people enslaved under Pharaoh’s oppression, we were in danger of becoming too influenced by Egyptian culture to ever return to our roots. Despite our undeserving state, God redeemed and delivered us because of who He believed we could become. In answer to our prayers, God spoke to me, commanding me to demand that Pharaoh let His people go free.
I resisted because of my stammering tongue, but the Lord provided my brother Aaron to stand with me as we confronted Pharaoh. However, with each warning, Pharaoh resisted, and the Lord sent another plague upon the land to persuade him. But Pharaoh’s heart only grew harder.
The last plague was the most terrible of all. God decreed that unless Pharaoh released the Hebrew people, the firstborn child of every family in the land would die. A death angel was to pass through at midnight and claim their lives. Yet, God provided an exception. Any Hebrew family who would slay a lamb and apply its blood to the doorpost of their home would deter the angel of death. The blood of the Passover lamb signaled that death would pass over the obedient family.
That dreadful night came, and innocent sons died, including Pharaoh’s son. Overcome with personal tragedy, Pharaoh quickly agreed to let us go. He told us to take everything we needed from the riches of Egypt. We left, taking gold, silver, copper, fine linens, and livestock. We thought these riches were reparations for hundreds of years of suffering and slavery. Yet, the Lord had something else in mind for the wealth of the wicked. God lifted us from our low spiritual state and made the way for me to lead a ragtag bunch of former slaves out of Egypt.
Pharaoh’s repentance was short-lived, however. His grief turned to rage, and he ordered his army to pursue us, intending to destroy us forever. We were trapped on the banks of the Red Sea, fear ran through our camp. The Egyptian army was at our backs, and we had no place to escape.
I stood at the water’s edge staff in hand, and asked the Lord to deliver us again. The roaring sound of Pharaoh’s chariots was deafening. I raised my staff toward the heavens, but nothing happened. We stood at the shore’s edge in desperation. Then, I noticed Nahshon ben Aminadav, the tribal leader of the Judahites, moving through the water up to his chin. When he took one step deeper, the waters reached his nose, and instantly, the sea parted. The Lord’s mighty hand opened the sea, and we crossed on dry ground.
Pharaoh’s army attempted to follow, but God closed the waters over them. After crossing the Red Sea, we journeyed to the foot of Mt. Sinai. There, my people were given hope for a bright future and a promise of land. While we camped at the foot of Sinai, I climbed to the mountain’s summit. Seven weeks after leaving Egypt, the Hebrews received the Torah at Mount Sinai. The Lord gave us His commandments for living as His people. I was also given a vision and a pattern for building a sanctuary for the Lord to dwell among us. In this sacred dwelling, the hearts of the people would again be united with the heart of our God.
The Mishkan, or Tabernacle, was created to be the perfect place for God's presence to dwell. The word "Mishkan" means "dwelling place," and the Torah says:
"Make a sanctuary for Me, and I shall dwell within them."
Every part of the Mishkan, from the linen fence, every socket, board, and covering, to each sacred object, was carefully designed to make His divine presence felt. Just as our bodies are vessels for our souls, the Mishkan's design allowed God's presence to be experienced on earth—not just inside the Tabernacle, but within the hearts and souls of His people.
Though I had the plan and the pattern for the Mishkan, the Hebrews fell back into their old ways before we built it. Growing impatient while I was on the mountain, some believed I was dead and that they were left to die in the desert. They listened to the “mixed multitude among us” and convinced Aaron to craft a golden calf, a reminder of one of the gods of Egypt. The Lord had delivered the Hebrews out of Egypt, but there was still much of Egypt within them.
The Lord is longsuffering. Even after the sin of the Golden Calf, which left the Israelites in a bad spiritual state, He allowed us to build the Mishkan. The materials came from the wealth of the wicked—the gold, silver, copper, and fine linens the Egyptians gave us as we departed their land. Once again, the people had the opportunity to connect with the Divine, despite their imperfections. We understood that just hoping for God's presence wasn't enough. Our real purpose was to become, mini Mishkan's vessels, carriers of God's presence in our lives.
The Tabernacle was designed to teach us a new pattern of approaching the Holy One. The old ways had to fade away. Here, the priests would meet those bringing the offering (korban), which means “to draw near or close to.” The offerings were a means for us to draw close to the Lord. If we drew close to God, He would draw closer to us. The offerings were inspected for imperfections and to discern the intentions of the sacrifice.
There was only one way, one entrance to the Tabernacle—the Mishkan, the dwelling place.
The outer court prepared the way for the people bringing five types of offerings. At the altar of burnt sacrifice, three types of voluntary korban were presented: the burnt offerings (Olah), the grain or meal offerings (minchah), and the peace offerings (shelamim). There were two mandatory korbans: the sin offering (chatat) and the guilt offering (asham). The altar was a place of repentance, restitution, and restoration.
There is a common misunderstanding about the laver. It was not used for washing the offerings. The laver was where each priest would start his day before serving at the altar or the Holy Place. Each priest would ceremonially wash his feet and hands while reciting specific prayers. Once cleansed, the priest was ready to serve the people. The laver was a place for cleansing and preparation for ministry.
Inside the Holy Place were three holy vessels: the Table of Showbread, the Golden Menorah, and the Golden Altar of Incense. The Table of Showbread displayed twelve loaves of unleavened bread, one for each tribe. The bread was exchanged every Sabbath with fresh loaves, acknowledging that the Lord brought forth the grain from the earth and gave us the gift of life. “Lord, you sustain us.”
The Golden Menorah was the only source of light within the Holy Place. The light from the six branches and center shaft provided sufficient light for the work of the Holy Place. Every morning and evening, the wicks were trimmed and the oil replenished. This coincided with the morning and evening daily Tamid sacrifice—a lamb. This was a communal korban provided by the yearly offerings of the community. In the Tamid, every man, woman, and child were represented. “Lord, you guide us daily.”
The Golden Altar of Incense stood before the curtain hiding the Ark of the Covenant inside the Holy of Holies. Every morning and evening, simultaneously with the daily Tamid offerings at the Altar of Burnt Sacrifice and the replenishing of oil and trimming of wicks of the Menorah, the hot coals and incense were renewed on the Altar of Incense. These coals could only come from the Altar of Burnt Sacrifice. The incense altar was the place of petition and praise, reminding us, “Lord, you hear me and listen to our prayers.”
Just past the veil separating the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies was the most sacred partition of the Tabernacle. Entrance into the Holy of Holies was reserved for the Cohen Gadol—the High Priest—only on Yom Kippur, the most sacred day of the year.
The Ark of the Covenant could be seen as two parts: the acacia wood box plated with gold and the lid or one-piece top adorned with two cherubim. Here the Lord would speak from amidst the cherubim.
Inside the Ark were the covenant tablets received at Mount Sinai. Aaron’s rod, the memorial golden pot of manna, and later a scroll was also found there. These holy articles instructed us, “Lord, you speak to us through your covenants.”
Yom Kippur was the day the High Priest would sprinkle the blood of the designated sacrifices. Droplets of blood were applied to the Mercy Seat of the Ark of the Covenant. The blood provided atonement for the sins of the nation. We were assured, “Lord, we experience your mercy and forgiveness.”
In a world full of sin and distractions, we too can strive to be holy vessels. By living with purpose and dedication, we can carry the Divine presence within us, making the world a place of holiness unto the Lord.
Be a Holy Vessel in a World Polluted by Sin.
Shalom, Shalom, The Tabernacle Man
Brother again thank you. Great
I like this story from Moses’ perspective. Makes it easier to understand the reason for building the tabernacle.