The Tabernacle to this day is still the single most influential structure for worship ever made. The temple was designed after it, and Jesus Christ came to fulfill it. So let’s reverently approach and see what we can learn.
God himself set up the Tabernacle through Moses, and so the worship there deserves careful attention, though Moses could not have known why. Only God knew why each detail was important: each detail pointed to Christ and was fulfilled in the New Covenant.
Worship in the Tabernacle was ritualistic, and largely was symbolic, with the priests carrying out the direct ministry to the Lord while the people watched, bowed down, and had a few exclamations to add. However, since the Lord has declared us to be a kingdom of priests, we are privileged to experience an insider’s view of Tabernacle worship that most of the Israelites could only hear about. God gave Moses some very specific directions for worship in the Old Testament. In fact, several chapters are devoted to describing the nature and design of the Tabernacle (Exod. 25-30), and at least four times in those chapters God reminds Moses to be sure to build everything exactly according to the specifications He gave him on the mountain. The details of the worship of Israel must have been very important to the Lord, and so perhaps we would do well to note some of these details as well. Let’s walk from the camp all the way to the Holy of Holies, and learn from God’s blueprint for Tabernacle worship.
In the Camp
We begin outside the Tabernacle, out in the camp. Worship of Yahweh was to be the very center of their lives.
And there it is! Do you see it? The Tabernacle of Moses. A tent, really, placed in a courtyard, and set in the very middle of the tribes of Israel, with 3 tribes on the north, 3 on the west, 3 on the south, and 3 on the east, and the Levites encamped right around it. The Israelite camp is a big one, understand, containing perhaps two million people. But everyone is within a Sabbath Day’s journey to it. In fact, the distance from the farthest tent to the central Tabernacle defines what makes up a Sabbath Day’s journey.
And now, as we journey together to worship our Lord, what do we see? We see a large courtyard, 75 feet by 150 feet. That may seem surprisingly small to us, given the magnitude of the later Temple courts. Think of a suburban backyard, or a church sanctuary that seats about 500-1000 people. The courtyard is surrounded by a boundary of a beautiful curtain of finely twisted linen, 7 feet high, set on posts with bronze bases and silver hooks and bands. There are bronze tent pegs connected to the cords holding up the curtains, and the curtain is crafted by skilled embroiderers in blue, purple and scarlet yarn. The curtain is tall enough that we cannot see what is inside, except to perhaps hear the noise and see the smoke rising from the sacrifices offering inside.
So the fence provides something of a mystery, because the closer you get to it, the less you can see of the Tabernacle inside. You can’t see all of the Tabernacle, but you can see the pillar of cloud or fire that hovers above it. It glows by night and is a cloud by day, like incense on coals, which means that it can be seen all day and all night. It is also very practical in the desert, where the sun is merciless in the day and becomes quite cool at night. So we have a cloud to block sunlight during the day, and we have warming heat at night. Perhaps that provided some extra motivation to follow the Presence when it moves!
There is no open gate on the fence. The fence is actually mostly intended to keep things out, not to welcome them in. Wandering animals, Gentiles, women and children are all forbidden to enter. Only the priests assigned to that day, plus an occasional Jewish male head of household may enter, if he has brought an unblemished animal sacrifice with him.
As we approach the worship place, we encourage one another with songs of pilgrimage (see more about these under Temple worship). We say to one another, “Let us go to the house of the Lord together,” and as we travel there, we recount the mighty deeds of God toward Israel in the past.
Approaching the Tabernacle
As we approach this very-central real estate in our midst, we find ourselves feeling something positive, something hopeful, something wonderful. As the psalmist wrote, “I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go up to the house of the Lord.’” We make our pilgrimage together, you and I, and as we do so, we share our testimonies—the stories of past journeys and life-changing interactions with the God of Israel.
Here is one of those stories: Did you hear about the time when the Lord invited Moses and the leaders of the tribes to come up on the mountain and share a meal with Him? Seriously! I know! Anyone who looks at God’s glory will die—and yet, these 74 men went up into His presence, saw His Glory, and somehow they lived to tell of it. The way Moses wrote it in Exodus 24, he says simply, “They ate and did not die.” What would that have been like, I wonder?
Entering the courtyard
Coming around to the east end, we enter his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise. Or, excuse me, WE don’t enter in. Or at least not if you are a Gentile, or a Jewish woman. But any of the priests, and men who are heads of a household bringing an offering may enter. We enter his courts with thanksgiving and his gates with praise!
Now that we are here, what do we see? Our eyes are immediately drawn to the great bronze altar. The altar is about 4 feet high, and 7 feet square, with bronze horns on each corner. There is, perhaps, an ox being sacrificed right now, which explains the smoke we saw rising from the courtyard before we entered. Our nostrils are filled with a pungent smell, part grilled steak, and part burning hair. That pungent smell rises to the Lord and reminds me of my sin and of the need for blood to be shed to forgive it. I am grateful for the ox who has now died in my place in the presence of the Lord, that I might be free to walk about in freedom here. At the same time, I am sobered by my sin that bought me that freedom. So the mood has shifted from one of thanksgiving and praise to one of somber gratitude.
In any case, we do not approach God without immediately being reminded of our sinfulness and need for a redeemer. The truth is that without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness, and somehow this was a part of God’s own plan to redeem mankind. Behold the Lamb who was slain from the foundation of the world.
Stepping around the altar, we now see that before we could move on to the Tent of Meeting, we must first wash. There is a large bronze laver or basin on a stand, and filled with water. It is about the size of a large birdbath, and this laver was only for the priests. In fact, it was only for the individual priest who was preparing to enter the tabernacle itself that day. Priests must wash here “so that they will not die.” Because we cannot approach God without atoning for our sins, as well as washing ourselves and being holy.
We recognize that Jesus’ death and our baptism were both a part of God’s plan from the foundations of the earth, and that without them, there is no fellowship and no worship. Our hearts confess our need for cleansing, and with new resolve we move on, having been forgiven.
Not just forgiven, but holy. Clean. Washed and renewed. Symbolically, the priest would approach the water and somehow discreetly wash his face, his ear lobes, his hands and his feet. Later, in Solomon’s temple, this bronze laver was built the size of an above-ground swimming pool, six feet high around the walls and sitting on the backs of twelve oxen. God told Moses to be sure to build it according to the pattern God himself showed him, because the Lord knew that a greater fulfillment of this symbol would be sent, and we would need to know about being completely immersed in the cleansing waters of rebirth and renewal in the Holy Spirit. No one approaches God without clean hands and a pure heart.
So in the courtyard the altar and the laver remind us that the Lamb of God became sin for us, that we might take on His righteousness, having been washed in the water and the Word.
Into the Holy Place
We now enter into the Tabernacle itself, carefully constructed just as the Lord showed to Moses on the mountain. It is made with eleven curtains seamlessly joined with gold clasps,and each made of finely twisted linen and blue, purple and scarlet yarn, with angelic figures worked into them by a skilled craftsman. But the entry curtain is the only place where the designs can be seen from the outside. There is a layer of goat hair curtains for the tent, and a layer of ram skins dyed red, with a covering of hides of sea cows (to make it waterproof). The frame is fifteen feet high, and fifteen feet wide by 45 feet deep, made of acacia wood overlaid with gold, with silver bases and gold, silver or bronze hooks.
And so we enter in. Of course, “we” don’t really have that privilege. More walls to divide. More fences to exclude. In this case, everyone gets excluded but the priest of the day. All Gentiles, all women and children, all men, even all the priests but one. Twice a day, the chosen priest on duty for that day enters to maintain the three pieces of furniture in this room known as The Holy Place. As he enters, the mood has changed again, to a deep reverence, for this place is increasingly holy as we press in closer to the Presence of God Himself.
With reverence we slip inside the curtain. Here is a rectangular room fifteen by thirty feet, with walls and ceiling of that beautiful tapestry. Our nostrils are filled with stronger scents from the articles in it—an olive oil lampstand, fresh bread, and incense. The room would be completely dark, except that near the left wall a lampstand burns continually every night before the One who never sleeps. They are set on a lampstand of pure gold, a seven-fold unit designed with an ingenious system to feed olive oil continuously to the wicks, so that they need never be put out to refill the oil. In Hebrew it is called a menorah, and it is here that the priest comes every morning to minister before the Lord by maintaining the light.
Take note that the priest’s job is more to serve the Lord with fear than to reverently bow before him in adoration. Just tuck that thought away for later use. And so there is always light shining in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it. . . . Wait a second! Did Jesus say at some point, “I am the light of the world”? Do you know the context? He was in the temple, very possibly standing underneath on of the huge menorahs placed there for Hanukah. Was he somehow saying that He was the fulfillment of the eternal flame in the holy place? Our hearts rejoice that we are no longer in darkness, because Jesus has brought our own hearts light. We resolve to attend to that light every morning as part of our worship life.
The light also reveals a table on the opposite wall. It is a small wooden table completely overlaid with pure gold. God told Moses to have the priests bake twelve loaves of unleavened bread every morning, and then to set it out before the Lord. The next day, the priest comes in and picks up the old bread, and replaces it with fresh bread. This way each of the tribes of Israel is continually bringing fresh bread before their Maker, as a free offering to him.
Wait just a minute! The bread—where does the flour come from? God himself provides it in daily manna, doesn’t he? So he is asking for the priests to give back to him a sort of firstfruits of what He himself has committed to his people: daily bread. The priests can’t prepare even one day in advance to store up bread, “just in case.” And they can’t deliver the bread a day late, either, or it would be filled with maggots. Except on the Sabbath, when God causes the bread to keep an extra day. However, the priests can eat the day-old bread for themselves. The Israelites received manna daily from the Lord while in the wilderness, and He wanted the first part of it returned to Himself every day. Again, our hearts realize that this detail was meant for us in the New Covenant as well, and we resolve to daily personal worship by offering our fresh bread and firstfruits to our Provider.
Hold it again! Did Jesus say something about the bread of life? Didn’t he say that he himself was the bread of life? Do you know the context? The people had just asked him about Moses and manna, and whether Jesus would give them daily bread like he did for Israel back in Moses’ day. But Jesus answer was direct: I AM that manna. I am this bread. Eat me and you will live.
Lastly, the priest’s daily ministry before the Lord is to attend to the third piece of furniture in the Holy Place: The Altar of Incense. The small table is right up against the curtain which leads into the Most Holy Place, so that the book of Hebrews actually describes it as inside the room.
The incense fills the room with smoke, and coupled with the light from the oil lamp, must have been quite a light show of holy reverence for the priest that day. The incense is a special formula, dictated by God himself and to be used only for the worship of God. No doubt it was pleasant to smell. But I’m certain that it was also pungent and overpowering. After all, God’s presence is not polite or gentle. He offends and fills the senses and overwhelms the worshiper. It’s almost as if this cloud of smoke continues right on up through the roof of this tabernacle and joins with the pillar of cloud and of flame, both showing and hiding the presence of God. But the cloud of incense is also reminiscent of the prayers of the saints, which continually rise before the Lord.
Wait. Back up again! Isn’t Jesus himself the very presence of God? Isn’t He the great high priests, and he is always interceding for the saints? So even the altar of incense is fulfilled by Jesus.
And so, what we discover is that this Holy Place, which God repeatedly told Moses to build according to the Lord’s own design, was part of the mystery that He had set in place from time immemorial: The Holy Place and all its furnishings were fulfilled in Jesus. Jesus is the light, he is the bread, and he is the incense.
Here we are reminded that the Lord hears the prayers of his people as they, like sweet-smelling smoke, rise before Him. And so as we attend to the powder and see it glow and smoke, our prayers rise to the One Who Listens, and we pray on behalf of ourselves and others, humbled to be in such as Holy Place.
And so, let us respond with worship. And yet, our prayers are still somewhat distant, for a curtain blocks our way into the place where mercy can be found, in the back of the Tabernacle.
The Holy of Holies
At last we come to the Most Holy Place itself. This is more than sobering or eliciting reverence from us; this place brings fear! No one is allowed in the Most Holy Place—a fifteen square foot section also called the Holy of Holies—with the exception of one man, one day a year. Not just any priest may enter safely, and for that matter no priest may enter, save the high priest. And when he enters, he does so with holy fear.
Only the high priest can enter that room, and even then only once a year on the Day of Atonement. Other priests would keep him awake by reading the Law to him all night before the Day of Atonement came, lest he should accidentally defile himself through a dream. When the day arrives, they other priests bake the bread, start the music, and one of the priests enters the holy place to deliver bread, trim wicks and add incense. Other priests reverently dress the high priest with his turban which has written across it “Holy Unto the Lord,” and his Ephod to bring the twelve tribes of Israel before Almighty God. A lamb is slaughtered and offered on the altar. The high priest lets blood into his bowl and brings a hyssop branch, and he is ready. He smears blood from a freshly sacrificed lamb or goat on his earlobes, his thumbs, and his big toes. He would tie a rope around his ankle, so that if his sacrifice was unacceptable and the Lord struck him down, the other priests could drag his body back out.
After all, no man can see God face to face and live, and the cloud cover is essential in this encounter between man and God. There is no door to get into the Most Holy Place, just a curtain to keep him out. Then, I imagine, the high priest gets on his knees and solemnly lifts the curtain to crawl into the small room, for knees are better than feet when entering the presence of the Most Holy One. With fear, he comes with atonement for his own sins, and for those of the entire nation of Israel. This inner room is not a place to enter lightly, but with deep reverent fear before the Awful Holy One. Now the high priests recites prayers and sprinkles blood on the ark of the covenant, which is covered in gold and spatters of blood.
You know about the ark of the covenant, don’t you? A box with a lid on it, containing the two stone tablets upon which are written the Ten Commandments from God. On the lid are two golden seraphim looking down at a spot on the lid of the ark. They call that spot the mercy seat, and it is The Center of all the Tabernacle. After all, that’s what we need most, isn’t it? Not justice, but mercy. Not a deal, but grace. And if it is only offered once a year, we better get it right.
We come in fear, but need assurance of His love. If only there were a way to approach that Place daily, continually, to have and maintain a sense of His abiding Presence, rather than waiting for one day per year. If only there were a way for each person to be His child, to come directly rather than relying on a fellow sinful human to approach.
But that curtain, ah, that thick, imposing curtain, stands between us and the Mercy Seat of God. But, wait. We have a New Covenant! God Himself has made a way for us! According to Hebrews 9, the entire tabernacle system was God’s way to prepare us for our great High Priest, Jesus. The Bible tells us that when Jesus breathed his last, the curtain (of the temple) was torn in two from top to bottom. (Mark 15:37, 38) It tells us that we can now boldly approach the throne of grace in the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body. (Hebrews 10:19-22) Praise the Lord, He has indeed made the way for us! So, let us enter into his very Presence, with thanksgiving, with praise, with holiness, with reverence and with fear. But by all means, let us enter in!
And so, we find, there really IS a way! Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. He has made a way for us to come boldly into his presence. What an immense privilege is ours to be on this side of the New Covenant. Of course, it was there the whole time, but hidden in mysteries until these last days when it was revealed through Jesus Christ. His death on the cross is our mercy seat!
Let me invite you to come in, and literally and physically experience the sense of privilege we have in Christ. Come through the courtyard, through the holy place. Take a loaf a bread—an entire loaf! And enter in! by a new a living way, enter through the curtain, which is his body, and share a meal with the Almighty. You will eat and not die!...
Enter in
Come close and enter in
The door is standing open and the veil's been rent in twain
Enter in
Hear my voice
Listen closely and hear my voice
Listen through the wind and fire to that still, small voice within
Hear my voice.
Seek my face
Come close and seek my face
I have shown to you my glory
And I long to show my ways
Seek my face