SANCTUARY AND PASSOVER
1. THE OFFERINGS OF THE PRINCES
Numbers 7
THE opening verses of the chapter seem to imply that immediately
after the erection of the tabernacle the gifts of the princes were
brought by way of thank offering. The note of time, "on the day that
Moses had made an end of setting up the tabernacle," appears very
precise. It has been made a difficulty that, according to the
narrative of Exodus, a considerable time had elapsed since the work
was finished. But this account of the oblations of the princes, like
a good many other ancient records incorporated in the present book,
has a place given it from the desire to include everything that
seemed to belong to the time of the wilderness. All incidents could
not be arranged in consecutive order, because, let us suppose, the
Book of Exodus to which this and others properly belonged was
already complete. Numbers is the more fragmentary book. The
expression, "on the day," must apparently be taken in a general
sense as in Gen 2:4 "These are the generations of the heavens and of
the earth in the day that the Lord God made earth and heaven." In
Num 9:15 the same note of time. "on the day that the tabernacle was
reared up," marks the beginning of another reminiscence or
tradition. The setting up of the tabernacle and consecration of the
altar gave occasion presumably for this manifestation of generosity.
But the offerings described could not be provided immediately; they
must have taken time to prepare. Golden spoons of ten shekels’
weight were not to be found ready-made in the camp; nor were the oil
and fine flour to be had at a day’s notice. Of course the gifts
might have been prepared in anticipation.
The account of the bringing of the offerings by the princes on
twelve successive days, one Sabbath at least included, gives the
impression of a festival display. The narrator dwells with some
pride on the exhibition of religious zeal and liberality, a fine
example set to the people by men in high position. The gifts had not
been asked by Moses; they were purely voluntary. Considering the
value of precious metals at the time, and the poverty of the
Israelites, they were handsome, though not extravagant. It is
estimated that the gold and silver of each prince would equal in
value about seven hundred and thirty of our shillings, and so the
whole amount contributed, without regarding the changed value of the
metals, would be equivalent to some four hundred and thirty-eight
pounds sterling. In addition there were the fine flour and oil, and
the bullocks, rams, lambs, and kids for sacrifice.
It is an obvious remark here that spontaneous liberality has in the
very form of the narrative the very highest commendation. Nothing
could be more fitted to create in the minds of the people respect
for the sanctuary and the worship associated with it than this
hearty dedication of their wealth by the heads of the tribes. As the
people saw the slow processions moving day by day from the different
parts of the camp, and joined in raising their hallelujahs of joy
and praise, a spirit of generous devotion would be kindled in many
hearts. It appears a singular agreement that each prince of a tribe
gave precisely the same as his neighbour. But by this arrangement
one was not put to shame by the greater liberality of another.
Often, as we know, there is in giving, quite as much of human
rivalry as of holy generosity. One must not be outdone by his
neighbour, would rather surpass his neighbour. Here all appears to
be done in the brotherly spirit.
Does the author of Numbers present an ideal for us to keep in view
in our dedication of riches to the service of the Gospel? It was in
full accord with the symbolic nature of Hebrew religion that
believers should enrich the tabernacle and give its services an air
of splendour. Almost the only way for the Israelites to honour God
in harmony with their separation from others as His people, was that
of making glorious the house in which He set His name, the whole
arrangements for sacrifice and festival and priestly ministration.
In the temple of Solomon that idea culminated which on this occasion
fixed the value and use of the princes’ gifts. But under
Christianity the service of God is the service of mankind. When the
thought and labour of the disciples of Christ are devoted to the
needs of men there is a tribute to the glory of God. "It has been
said-it is true-that a better and more honourable offering is made
to our Master in ministry to the poor, in extending the knowledge of
His name, in the practice of the virtues by which that name is
hallowed, than in material gifts to His temple. Assuredly it is so:
woe to all who think that any other kind or manner of offering may
in any way take the place of these." The decoration of the house
used for worship, its stateliness and charm, are secondary to the
upbuilding of that temple of which believing men and women are the
eternal stones, for basement, pillar, and wall. In the development
of Judaism the temple with its costly sacrifices and ministries
swallowed up the means and enthusiasm of the people. Israel
recognised no duty to the outside world. Even its prophets, because
they were not identified with the temple worship, were in the main
neglected and left to penury. It is a mistaken use of the teaching
of the Old Testament to take across its love of splendour in
sanctuary and worship, while the spread of Christian truth abroad
and among the poor is scantily provided for.
But the liberality of the leaders of the tribes, and of all who in
the times of the old covenant gave freely to the support of
religion, stands before us today as a noble example. In greater
gratitude for a purer faith, a larger hope, we should be more
generous. Devoting ourselves first as living sacrifices, holy and
acceptable to God, we should count it an honour to give in
proportion to our ability. One after another, every prince, every
father of a family, every servant of the Lord, to the poorest widow,
should bring a becoming gift.
The chapter closes with a verse apparently quite detached from the
narrative as well as from what follows, which, however, has a
singular importance as embodying the law of the oracle. "And when
Moses went into the tent of meeting to speak with Him, then he heard
the Voice speaking unto him from above the mercy-seat that was upon
the ark of the testimony, from between the two cherubim: and he
spake unto Him." At first this may seem exceedingly anthropomorphic.
It is a human voice that is heard by Moses speaking in response to
his inquiries. One is there, in the darkness behind the veil, who
converses with the prophet as friend communicates with friend. Yet,
on reflection, it will be felt that the statement is marked by a
grave idealism and has an air of mystery befitting the
circumstances. There is no form or visible manifestation, no angel
or being in human likeness, representing God. It is only a Voice
that is heard. And that Voice, as proceeding from above the
mercy-seat which covered the law, is a revelation of what is in
harmony with the righteousness and truth, as well as the compassion,
of the Unseen God. The separateness of Jehovah is very strikingly
suggested. Here only, in this tent of meeting, apart from the common
life of humanity, can the one prophet-mediator receive the sacred
oracles. And the veil still separates even Moses from the mystic
Voice. Yet God is so akin to men that He can use their words, make
His message intelligible through Moses to those who are not holy
enough to hear for themselves, but are capable of responding in
obedient faith.
Whatever is elsewhere said in regard to the Divine communications
that were given through Moses must be interpreted by this general
statement. The revelations to Israel came in the silence and mystery
of this place of audience, when the leader of the people had
withdrawn from the bustle and strain of his common tasks. He must be
in the exalted mood this highest of all offices requires. With
patient, earnest soul he must wait for the Word of God. There is
nothing sudden, no violent flash of light on the ecstatic mind. All
is calm and grave.
2. THE CANDELABRUM
Num 8:1-4
The seven-branched candlestick with its lamps stood in the outer
chamber of the tabernacle into which the priests had frequently to
go. When the curtain at the entrance of the tent was drawn aside
during the day there was abundance of light in the Holy Place, and
then the lamps were not required. It may indeed appear from Exo
27:20, that one lamp of the seven fixed on the candelabrum was to be
kept burning by day as well as by night. Doubt, however, is thrown
on this by the command, repeated Lev 24:1-4, that Aaron shall order
it "from evening to morning"; and Rabbi Kimehi’s statement that the
"western lamp" was always found burning cannot be accepted as
conclusive. In the wilderness, at all events, no lamp could be kept
always alight: and from 1Sa 3:3 we learn that the Divine voice was
heard by the child-prophet when Eli was laid down in his place, "and
the lamp of God was not yet gone out" in the temple where the ark of
God was. The candelabrum therefore seems to have been designed not
specially as a symbol, but for use. And here direction is given,
"When thou lightest the lamps, the seven lamps shall give light in
front of the candlestick." All were to be so placed upon the
supports that they might shine across the Holy Place, and illuminate
the altar of incense and the table of shewbread.
The text goes on to state that the candlestick was all of beaten
work of gold; "unto the base thereof and unto the flowers thereof,
it was beaten work," and the pattern was that which Jehovah had
showed Moses. The material, the workmanship, and the form, not
particularly important in themselves, are anew referred to because
of the special sacredness belonging to all the furniture of the
tabernacle.
The attempt to fasten typical meanings to the seven lights of the
candelabrum, to the ornaments and position, and especially to
project those meanings into the Christian Church, has little warrant
even from the Book of Revelation, where Christ speaks as "He that
walketh in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks." There can be
no doubt, however, that symbolic references may be found,
illustrating in various ways the subjects of revelation and the
Christian life.
The "tent of meeting" may represent to us that chamber or temple of
reverent inquiry where the voice of the Eternal is heard, and His
glory and holiness are realised by the seeker after God. It is a
chamber silent, solemn, and dark, curtained in such gloom, indeed,
that some have maintained there is no revelation to be had, no
glimpse of Divine life or love. But as the morning sunshine flowed
into the Holy Place when the hangings were drawn aside, so from the
natural world light may enter the chamber in which fellowship with
God is sought. "The invisible things of Him since the creation of
the world are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that
are made, even His everlasting power and divinity." The world is not
God, its forces are not in the true sense elemental-do not belong to
the being of the Supreme. But it bears witness to the infinite mind,
the omnipotent will it cannot fitly represent. In the silence of the
tent of meeting, when the light of nature shines through the door
that opens to the sunrise, we realise that the inner mystery must be
in profound accord with the outer revelation-that He who makes the
light of the natural world must be in Himself the light of the
spiritual world; that He who maintains order in the great movements
and cycles of the material universe, maintains a like order in the
changes and evolutions of the immaterial creation.
Yet the light of the natural world shining thus into the sacred
chamber, while it aids the seeker after God in no small degree,
fails at a certain point. It is too hard and glaring for the hour of
most intimate communion. By night, as it were, when the world is
veiled and silent, when the soul is shut alone in earnest desire and
thought, then it is that the highest possibilities of intercourse
with the unseen life are realised. And then, as the seven-branched
candlestick with its lamps illuminated the Holy Place, a radiance
which belongs to the sanctuary of life must supply the soul’s need.
On the curtained walls, on the altar, on the veil whose heavy folds
guard the most holy mysteries, this light must shine. Nature does
not reveal the life of the Ever-Living, the love of the All-Loving,
the will of the All-Holy. In the conscious life and love of the
soul, created anew after the plan and likeness of God in Christ,
-here is the light. The unseen God is the Father of our spirits. The
lamps of purified reason, Christ-born faith and love, holy
aspiration, are those which dispel the darkness on our side the
veil. The Word and the Spirit give the oil by which those lamps are
fed.
Must we say that with the Father, Christ also, who once lived on
earth, is in the inner chamber which our gaze cannot penetrate? Even
so. A thick curtain is interposed between the earthly and the
heavenly. Yet while by the light which shines in his own soul the
seeker after God regards the outer chamber-its altar, its shewbread,
its walls, and canopy-his thought passes beyond the veil. The altar
is fashioned according to a pattern and used according to a law
which God has given. It points to prayer, thanksgiving, devotion,
that have their place in human life because facts exist out of which
they arise-the beneficence, the care, the claims of God. The table
of shewbread represents the spiritual provision made for the soul
which cannot live but by every word that cometh out of the mouth of
God. The continuity of the outer chamber with the inner suggests the
close union there is between the living soul and the living God-and
the veil itself, though it separates, is no jealous and impenetrable
wall of division. Every sound on this side can be heard within; and
the Voice from the mercy seat, declaring the will of the Father
through the enthroned Word, easily reaches the waiting worshipper to
guide, comfort, and instruct. By the light of the lamps kindled in
our spiritual nature the things of God are seen; and the lamps
themselves are witnesses to God. They burn and shine by laws He has
ordained, in virtue of powers that are not fortuitous nor of the
earth. The illumination they give on this side the veil proves
clearly that within it the Parent Light, glorious, never-fading,
shines - transcendent reason, pure and almighty will, unchanging
love-the lifewhich animates the universe.
Again, the symbolism of the candlestick has an application suggested
by Rev 1:20. Now, the outer chamber of the tabernacle in which the
lamps shine represents the whole world of human life. The temple is
vast; it is the temple of the universe. Still the veil exists; it
separates the life of men on earth from the life in heaven, with
God. Isaiah in his oracles of redemption spoke of a coming
revolution which should open the world to Divine light. "He will
destroy in this mountain the face of the covering that is cast over
all people, and the veil that is spread over all nations." And the
light itself, still as proceeding from a Hebrew centre, is described
in the second book of the Isaiah prophecies: "For Zion’s sake will I
not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until
her righteousness go forth as brightness and her salvation as a lamp
that burneth. And the nations shall see thy righteousness and all
kings thy glory." But the prediction was not fulfilled until the
Hebrew merged in the human and He came who, as the Son of Man, is
the true light which lighteth every man coming into the world.
Dark was the outer chamber of the great temple when the Light of
life first shone, and the darkness comprehended it not. When the
Church was organised, and the apostles of our Lord, bearing the
gospel of Divine grace, went through the lands, they addressed a
world still under the veil of which Isaiah spoke. But the spiritual
enlightenment of mankind proceeded; the lamps of the candlestick,
set in their places, showed the new altar, the new table of heavenly
bread, a feast spread for all nations, and made the ignorant and
earthly aware that they stood within a temple consecrated by the
offering of Christ. St. John saw in Asia, amid the gross darkness of
its seven great cities, seven lamp-stands with their lights, some
increasing, some waning in brightness. The sacred flame was carried
from country to country, and in every centre of population a lamp
was kindled. There was no seven-branched candelabrum merely, but one
of a hundred, of a thousand arms. And all drew their oil from the
one sacred source, cast more or less bravely the same Divine
illumination on the dark eye of earth.
True, the world had its philosophy and poetry, using, often with no
little power, the themes of natural religion. In the outer chamber
of the temple the light of nature gleamed on the altar, on the
shewbread, on the veil. But interpretation failed, faith in the
unseen was mixed with dreams, no real knowledge was gained of what
the folds of the curtain hid-the mercy-seat, the holy law that
called for pure worship and love of one Living and True God. And
then the darkness that fell when the Saviour hung on the cross, the
darkness of universal sin and condemnation, was made so deeply felt
that in the shadow of it the true light might be seen, and the lamp
of every church might glow, a beacon of Divine mercy shining across
the troubled life of man. And the world has responded, will respond,
with greater comprehension and joy, as the Gospel is proclaimed with
finer spirit, embodied with greater zeal in lives of faith and love.
Christ in the truth, Christ in the sacraments, Christ in the words
and deeds of those who compose His Church-this is the light. The
candlestick of every life, of every body of believers, should be as
of beaten gold. no base metal mixed with that which is precious. He
who fashions his character as a Christian is to have the Divine idea
before him and re-think it; those who build the Church are to seek
its purity, strength, and grace. But still the light must come from
God, not from man, the light that burned on the altar of the Divine
sacrifice and shines from the glorious personality of the risen
Lord.
3. THE PASSOVER
Num 9:1-14
The day fixed by statute for the feast which commemorated the
deliverance from Egypt was the fourteenth of the first month-the
year beginning with the month of the exodus. Chapter 9 opens by
reiterating this statute, already recorded in Exodus 12 and
Leviticus 23, and proceeds to narrate the observance of the Passover
in the second year. A supplementary provision follows which met the
case of those excluded from the feast through ceremonial
uncleanness. In one passage it is assumed that the statutes and
ordinances of the celebration are already known. The feast proper,
ordered to be kept between the two evenings of the fourteenth day,
is, however, alone spoken of; there is no mention of the week of
unleavened bread {Exo 12:15 Lev 23:6}, nor of the holy convocations
with which that week was to open and close. It is almost impossible
to avoid the conclusion that the Passover in the wilderness was a
simple family festival at which every head of a household officiated
in a priestly capacity. The supplementary Passover of this chapter
was, according to the rabbis, distinguished from the great feast by
the rites lasting only one day instead of seven, and by other
variations. There is, however, no trace of such a difference between
the one observance and the other. What was done by the congregation
on the fourteenth of Abib was apparently to be done at the "Little
Passover" of the following month.
On every male Israelite old enough to understand the meaning of the
Passover, the observance of it was imperative. Lest the
supplementary feast should be made an excuse for failure to keep the
fourteenth day of the first month, it is enacted {Num 9:13} that he
who wilfully neglects shall be "cut off from his people." For
strangers who sojourn among the Israelites provision is made that if
they wish to keep the feast they may do so under the regulations
applied to the Hebrews: these, of course, including the
indispensable rite of circumcision, which had to precede any
observance of a feast in honour of God. Noticeable are the terms
with which this statute concludes: "Ye shall have one statute, both
for the stranger and for him that is born in the land." The
settlement in Canaan is assumed.
Regarding the Passover in the wilderness, difficulties have been
raised on the ground that a sufficient number of lambs, males of the
first year. could scarcely have been provided, and that the
sacrificing of the lambs by Aaron and his two sons within the
prescribed time would have been impossible. The second point of
difficulty disappears if this Passover was, as we have seen reason
to believe, a family festival like that observed on the occasion of
the exodus. Again. the number of yearling male lambs required would
depend on the number who partook of the feast. Calculations made on
the basis that one lamb sufficed for about fifteen, and that men
alone ate the Passover, leave the matter in apparent doubt. Some
fifty thousand lambs would still be needed. Keeping by the
enumeration of the Israelites given in the muster-roll of Numbers,
some writers explain that the desert tribes might supply large
numbers of lambs, and that kids also were available. The difficulty,
however, remains, and it is one of those which point to the
conclusion that the numbers given have somehow been increased in the
transcription of the ancient records century after century.
The case of certain men who could not partake of the Passover in the
first month, because they were unclean through the dead, was brought
before Moses and Aaron. The men felt it to be a great loss of
privilege, especially as the march was about to begin, and they
might not have another opportunity of observing the feast. Who
indeed could tell whether in the first conflict it might not be his
lot to fall by the sword? "We are unclean by the nephesh of a man,"
they said: "wherefore are we kept back, that we may not offer the
oblation of the Lord in its appointed season among the children of
Israel?" The result of the appeal was the new law providing that two
disabilities, and two only, should be acknowledged. The
supplementary Passover of the second month was appointed for those
unclean by the dead, and those on a journey who found themselves too
far off to reach in time the precincts of the sanctuary. Those
unclean would be in a month presumably free from defilement; those
on a journey would probably have returned. The concession is a note
of the gracious reasonableness that in many ways distinguished the
Hebrew religion; and the Passover observances of Jews at the present
day are based on the conviction that what is practicable is accepted
by God, though statute and form cannot be kept.
The question presents itself, why keeping of the Passover should be
necessary to covenant union with Jehovah. And the reply bears on
Christian duty with regard to the analogous sacrament of the Lord’s
Supper, for it rests on the historical sanction and continuity of
faith. If God was to be trusted as a Saviour by the Hebrew, certain
facts in the nation’s history had to be known, believed, and kept in
clear remembrance; otherwise no reality could be found in the
covenant. And under the new covenant the same holds good. The
historical fact of Christ’s crucifixion must be kept in view, and
constantly revived by the Lord’s Supper. In either case redemption
is the main idea presented by the commemorative ordinance. The
Hebrew festival is not to be held on the anniversary of the giving
of the law; it recalls the great deliverance connected with the
death of the first-born in Egypt. So the Christian festival points
to the deliverance of humanity through the death of Christ.
Remarkable is the congruity between the view of the law presented by
Paul and the fact that the great commemorative feast of Hebraism is
attached, not to the legislation of Sinai, but to the rescue from
Egyptian bondage. The law kept the Hebrew nation in ward (Gal 3:23);
"it was added because of transgressions, till the seed should come
to whom the promise had been made" (Gal 3:19); it "came in beside,
that the trespass might abound" (Rom 5:20). The Hebrews were not
required to commemorate that ordinance which laid on them a heavy
burden and was found, as time went on, to be "unto death" (Rom
7:10). And, in like manner, the feast of Christianity does not
recall the nativity of our Lord, nor that agony in the garden which
showed Him in the depths of human sorrow, but that triumphant act of
His soul which carried Him, and humanity with Him, through the
shadow of death into the free life of spiritual energy and peace.
The Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper is the commemoration of a victory
by which we are enfranchised. Partaking of it in faith, we realise
our rescue from the Egypt of slavery and fear, our unity with Christ
and with one another as "an elect race, a royal priesthood, a holy
nation, a people for God’s own possession." The wilderness journey
lies before us still; but in liberty we press on as the ransomed of
the Lord.
Mr. Morley has said, not without reason, that "the modern argument
in favour of the supernatural origin of the Christian religion,
drawn from its suitableness to our needs and its Divine response to
our aspirations," is insufficient to prove it the absolute religion.
"The argument," he says, "can never carry us beyond the relativity
of religious truth." Christians may not assume that "their
aspirations are the absolute measure of those of humanity in every
stage." To dispense with faith in the historical facts of the life
of Christ, His claims, and the significance of His cross, to leave
these in the haze of the past as doubtful, incapable of satisfactory
proof, and to rest all on the subjective experience which any one
may reckon sufficient, is to obliterate the covenant and destroy the
unity of the Church. Hence, as the Hebrews had their Passover, and
the observance of it gave them coherence as a people and as a
religious body, so we have the Supper. No local centre, indeed, is
appointed at which alone our symbolic feast can be observed.
Wherever a few renew their covenant with God in proclaiming the
Lord’s death till He come, there the souls of the faithful are
nourished and inspired through fellowship with Him who brought
spiritual life and liberty to our world.
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