Finding Ourselves in the Story

Readings for today: Exodus 25-28

So many reading plans start to crash at this part of the journey. Making our way though the latter parts of Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers is a real struggle. It’s easy to breeze over the blueprints of the tabernacle. Skim through the thread counts of the priestly garments. Get lost in the weeds of all the laws in Leviticus. And then stop reading altogether once we hit the statistical reports in the Book of Numbers. I’ve been doing this for over twenty years. I get it. The readings start to feel boring. Pointless. Worthless.

But perhaps that’s because we read the Bible selfishly. Perhaps it’s because we read with a desire to “get something out of it” rather than read ourselves into it. Perhaps it’s because we project our own experiences and biases and cultural understandings back onto the text which makes it feel so foreign and strange. We look at all this detail and we can’t understand it. We wonder why God’s so concerned about the furnishings of the sanctuary or what His people eat or what they wear. We struggle to grasp the significance of all the offerings the people bring and why God demands such things in the first place. We start to wonder if the God of the Old Testament truly is capricious and arbitrary and not worthy to be trusted.

This is why it is so important to pay attention to verses like Exodus 25:22. “There I will meet with you, and from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim that are on the ark of the testimony, I will speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel.” It’s important to stop. Ponder. Pray over verses like this that we will find sprinkled throughout the text. It reminds us that everything God does has a purpose. And that purpose is to make it possible for His people to be in relationship with Him. Take a step back for just a minute. The omnipotent and omniscient and omnipresent God of the universe is under no obligation to interact with His people. God could just as easily washed His hands of this whole human mess when Adam and Eve first sinned in the garden. He has a universe to run. Surely He has better things He could be doing with His time? And yet, He chooses to love us. He chooses to reveal Himself to us. He chooses to meet with us. Dwell with us. Live in covenantal relationship with us. It’s astounding!

Sin causes us to forget our place. We are not the center of the universe. So in order to read the Bible for all its worth, we have to set aside our natural, sinful inclination to make it all about us. These books were not written so that we could get something out of them. Some nugget of wisdom or inspiration to put on a coffee cup or post on Twitter. The Bible was written to describe the history of God’s interactions with the people He had chosen from among the nations of the earth. This is their story. This is their history. And we only “get something out of it” if we seek first to immerse ourselves in it.

What does that look like? Here we have to exercise our imaginations. Imagine being a young Israelite child. Each night before bed you see the scars on your father’s back from the whips he endured in Egypt. Your mother, now in her late twenties, looks ancient because of the physical, psychological, and sexual trauma she’s endured. Your older siblings tell you very real horror stories of what life was like when you and your family were slaves. Each day is a struggle for survival. You barely have enough to eat. Barely have enough to drink. Your legs are tired from the miles you’ve walked. Your back hurts from the burdens you’ve carried. And now you find yourself at the foot of Mt. Sinai. The summit surrounded by smoke and fire. The ground shakes occasionally. Thunder rolls. Some of the older people tell you it’s the voice of God. You’ve seen His power firsthand. The plagues. The pillar of fire. The parting of the Red Sea. But you don’t know this God. You’ve never met this God. You have idea if you can trust this God. All you know is that He seems to be on your side…for now.

How would you learn more about this God? How would learn to love this God? How would you learn to worship this God? Only if He chose to teach you. Only if He chose to reveal Himself to you. Only if He chose to dwell with you. So Moses and Aaron start to give you instructions on how to build a sanctuary. A place for God to dwell. You start to meet with this God. You learn to recognize His voice. You learn to follow His will. A relationship begins to form. You feel loved. Protected. Cared for. Watched over. Then Moses and Aaron start to issue laws that will govern your collective life together. A national identity begins to take shape. You realize you are part of something bigger than yourself. Part of a not only a family and a clan and a tribe but a nation that God Himself has chosen out of all the nations of the earth. And as your heart fills with gratitude and love for all God has done for you and your people, you begin to bring Him offerings. Silver and gold and the finest animals of your flock. Not because you have to but because you want to return back to Him the best of what He’s given to you.

As you read over the next several days and weeks, keep pushing yourself to become part of the story. Don’t just read for information. Don’t even read for inspiration. Read with a desire to find yourself in the story. Read with a desire to come alongside and experience life with our spiritual fathers and mothers. Read with a desire to understand what life must have been like for them as they were learning all about this new God. And as you walk in their sandals a bit, trust God to reveal Himself to you in new and fresh ways.