My Morning Meal

As they approached the tent, I’m guessing their senses were alive. Certainly the priest could see the Holy Place before him . . . that, in and of itself, might have set the adrenaline in motion in anticipation of drawing nearer to the Holy of Holies. In the background they may noticed the sound of the wood crackling and the burnt offerings sizzling. They would feel the water still on their hands after the preparatory washing be entering into sacred duty. And as they approached the tent of meeting, what did they smell?

The LORD said to Moses, “Take the finest spices: of liquid myrrh 500 shekels, and of sweet-smelling cinnamon half as much, that is, 250, and 250 of aromatic cane, and 500 of cassia, according to the shekel of the sanctuary, and a hin of olive oil. And you shall make of these a sacred anointing oil blended as by the perfumer; it shall be a holy anointing oil. With it you shall anoint the tent of meeting and the ark of the testimony . . . ”   (Exodus 30:22-26 ESV)

As I’m wrapping up this portion of Exodus which deals with the instructions given to Moses for the building of the tabernacle I’m struck by the fact that, along with everything that was to be made, . . . that, in addition to all that was tangible about the tabernacle, . . . that there would also be this invisible aroma about the place where the glory of God would dwell.

Apparently a shekel was about .4 ounces. That means that about 12 pounds of liquid myrhh, which I understand carried a very strong scent, was mixed with 6.5 pounds of “sweet-smelling cinnamon” and another 6.5 pounds of “aromatic cane” . . . and it was to be mixed together with olive oil “by the perfumer” as a holy anointing oil. That’s 25 pounds of permeating odor to spread over an area about 10 strides long and 5 strides wide . . . to sprinkle on the tent and everything in it including the ark. Seems to me that’s a pretty small area to release that amount of perfume. I’m thinking the odor would be noticeable.

And I’m trying to imagine the smell . . . and the impact of this invisible reminder that this place is holy. And what it foreshadows of God’s current day temple . . . the church (Eph. 2:21-22).

The anointing we experience today is that of the Holy Spirit. The invisible means by which we have been consecrated and set apart is through the abiding presence of the Third Person of the Trinity. And so I’m thinking . . . shouldn’t we smell a bit?

Not literally, of course. But shouldn’t there be an intangible something in the air when people experience the church of God. The church as in the people . . . not the building . . . not the programming . . . but those living stones who are being built into a holy temple in the Lord, a dwelling place for God. Not some airs that we put on . . . but a distinctive “aroma” that is put on us because a Most Holy God has redeemed for Himself a holy people through the blood of His holy Son. And in that redemption, there is a setting apart . . . a consecration . . . an anointing of the Holy Spirit. And with that, if the tent of meeting in Exodus is an indicator, there should be a certain something in the air that says these are God’s people . . . and here, is God’s presence.

But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? (2Corinthians 2:14-16 ESV)

Who is sufficient for these things? Not me. Rather, the anointing Spirit is poured out on sinners-saved-by-grace that, through the fragrance upon them, the God of glory might be known.

Oh, that by the grace of God, we might smell a bit. Amen?

You are cordially invited to a fellowship meal. Place to be held: Mount Sinai. Your Host: the God of Israel. This is a “by invitation only” event . . . open only to Moses, his brother Aaron, Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu, and the seventy elders of Israel. Upon arrival, please remove your sandals . . . (Exodus 24:1-2 kinda’)

What was that like? Maybe for Moses there was some familiarity with interacting with the presence of God . . . and Aaron had been up close and personal with the mighty hand of God as an agent involved in God’s displays of power in Egypt. But for the other 72 guys, I’m thinking this is a bit of a first. The mountain’s aflame with the appearance of the glory of God . . . a cloud hovering about it, signifying “God is in the building” . . . and they are told, “Come up to the LORD” (24:1).

How do you even prepare for that? How do you get ready to enter onto holy ground? And, what’s the sense of anticipation like? You’ve been called to approach Him who dwells in unapproachable light (1Tim. 6:16) . . . you’ve been asked to dine with Him who no man can see and live (Ex. 33:20) . . . so how do you come? By His invitation . . . according to His grace . . . and by faith . . . I’m guessin’.

Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up, and they saw the God of Israel. There was under His feet as it were a pavement of sapphire stone, like the very heaven for clearness. And He did not lay His hand on the chief men of the people of Israel; they beheld God, and ate and drank.   (Exodus 24:9-11)

Of all the happenings on Mt. Sinai, this “afternoon tea” with the Lord isn’t one that I would have readily recalled . . . or, to be honest, have remembered reading before. But God calls these 74 men into His presence . . . that they might know the intimacy of divine fellowship . . . that they might behold Him, if only His feet . . . that their senses might be lit up as their optic nerves process a sapphire blue pavement unlike anything earth has to show, but the color and clearness of heaven itself . . . and that they might eat and drink with the God of heaven, Himself! Unreal!

Who wouldn’t want to be on that exclusive invitee list? Who wouldn’t want the opportunity to pull up a chair, as it were, at a table with the Lord of heaven, Himself? Who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to enjoy a meal in His presence? Not so much to engage in over the table chit chat, but to take in the wonder of His presence . . . to reflect on the magnificence of His Name . . . to be in awe at the depths of grace which provides such access . . . to process, as much as our senses permit, something of His unearthly glory . . . to be still and know that He is God Who wouldn’t RSVP with a resounding, “Count me in, Lord!”

Been there . . .

This past Sunday, as is the custom of our fellowship once a month, many of us accepted the invitation to come up and eat and drink with the Lord. Wasn’t on Mt. Rainier (though that would be pretty cool if it were to light up) . . . but in our building’s sanctuary. The invitation wasn’t limited to just “the chief men” . . . but to all who, through the blood of Jesus, had known entrance into the family of God. Wasn’t a big meal . . . just a bit of bread . . . a small sip of grape juice. The floor was carpeted, not covered with sapphire pavement. No smoke . . . no pyrotechnics.

Ah, but the presence of the Lord was there . . . dwelling in the living temple formed by His people . . . His Holy Spirit abiding in and through all those He had redeemed through the finished work of His blessed Son on the cross. And together we . . . as in we, brothers and sisters in Christ . . . and as in we, the LORD and those He calls the sheep of His flock . . . and together we ate . . . and remembered . . . and reflected . . . and rejoiced . . . and we worshiped.

Yes, you are cordially invited to a fellowship meal.

Been there! . . . Sweet!

I don’t think I knew before this morning that manna was kind of a “pilot project.” I knew that the freshly freed Israelites had a bit of a whining problem. No sooner, it seems, had they walked through the Red Seas . . . no sooner had they witnessed the destruction of Pharaoh’s army . . . no sooner had they danced the night away celebrating the Lord’s mighty victory on their behalf . . . then, just three days later, they started to grumble and complain because they were getting thirsty. And God provides them “sweet water” to drink (Ex.15:22-25). Then, only a few weeks after seeing God provide the water, the food supply they had taken from Egypt is running low . . . and the people’s stomachs are making noises . . . and the people start grumbling again. “Moses! Now we’re hungry, Moses! We wish we were back in Egypt ’cause at least there we had all we wanted to eat after our 14+ hours of daily tyrannical forced labor.” And God, in His grace, and because of His promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, puts in a standing order into the kitchens of glory, “Quail meat at night . . . bread from heaven in the morning . . . for everyone!” And while I was aware of this gracious provision, until this morning I don’t think I realized it was kind of a “tummy test.”

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Behold, I am about to rain bread from heaven for you, and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day, that I may test them, whether they will walk in My law or not.”    (Exodus 16:4 ESV)

The manna rules were pretty simple. Every morning the people would wake to find the wilderness before them covered with frosted flakes (not THE Frosted Flakes . . . but frost-like flakes . . . check out Ex. 16:14 in the ESV, NIV, NASB, or NLT). They were to gather as much as they would need for the day and they were not to save any of it for tomorrow, because tomorrow the Lord had promised to provide again. On the sixth day of the week, when they got up Friday morning, they were to gather two days worthy of manna . . . because Saturday was “a day of solemn rest, a holy Sabbath to the LORD” (16:22) . . . on that day the “kitchen would be closed” . . . and the people were to honor their faithful Provider.

And God said it was a test . . . a way that would demonstrate if His people would believe Him. trust Him, and walk in His instruction. A test tied to the most basic of needs . . . food. A test comprised of a couple of very simple instructions . . . take all you need every day . . . don’t hoard it because I will provide for the next day . . . and honor Me on the Sabbath. There were more laws to come . . . more statutes to obey . . . this was the pilot project . . . and some failed miserably.

Some didn’t listen . . . they would pack away a part of the days manna for tomorrow, just in case heaven didn’t deliver. The result? ” . . . and it bred worms and stank” (16:20). God’s provision for the day, would be sufficient for the day . . . even if that day was tomorrow . . . and He didn’t need the future planning of His people to help Him ensure He met His quota.

But the two-day supply of manna collected on Fridays wouldn’t rot over night (16:24) there would be no need to gather on the Sabbath. God would provide for His people to obey His call to keep the day holy as unto Him. But again, there were those who failed the test . . . who went looking for the bread on the seventh day . . . “but they found none” (16:27) . . . just as God had said.

And I’m thinking about how the provision of the most basic of needs became a pilot project to gauge faith and faithfulness. And I’m thinking how these things “were written down for our instruction” (1Cor. 10:11) . . . how God sets other kinds of “tummy tests” before us to reveal to us (not to Him, for He already knows) whether or not we truly believe His grace and provision are sufficient. That it might show us the degree to which we think we need our efforts to help God fulfill His promises. Whether we believe we need to come up with our own backup plans, or need to work just a little harder, to ensure God’s provision is really enough.

O’, that by God’s grace I would believe His Word . . . trust in His promises . . . and seek to faithfully walk in His ways. That, by God’s grace, I would pass the tummy test . . . for His glory. Amen?

What a night! No sooner had they begun to revel in the “thrill of victory” from having walked out of a plundered Egypt, then they found their backs to sea, certain they were about to experience “the agony of defeat”, as Pharaoh’s armies were bearing down on them. Despite the recent experience of that first Passover when God revealed that He was for them and nothing could stand against them . . . even though the pillar of cloud was still hanging around in their midst . . . there was something about seeing the dust being kicked up by hundreds and hundreds of chariots that struck fear in their hearts . . . that made them want to go back to slavery rather than deal with what appeared to be the price of freedom.

But that was yesterday . . . chariots don’t float. And as morning broke . . . as they looked back from the other side of the Red Sea . . . as they beheld the lifeless bodies of their pursuers . . . the fear of the Egyptians gave way to a fear of the Lord. On the morning after the night before angst gave way to awe . . . and the cry of these former slaves of Egypt became the song of the redeemed.

Then Moses and the people of Israel sang this song to the LORD, saying, “I will sing to the LORD, for He has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider He has thrown into the sea. The LORD is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise Him, my father’s God, and I will exalt Him.”   (Exodus 15:1-2 ESV)

There’s a part of me that wants to sit in judgment on the Israelites. After all, they had witnessed the plagues on Egypt . . . they had lived through Passover knowing the power of the blood to save. . . they had walked out of Egypt “rich slaves” as their former task masters just handed over to them their treasures and material goods . . . they were being escorted by the very presence of God Himself in the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. So, how could they get so bent out of shape when Pharaoh took one last run at reclaiming his workforce?

But I’m thinking deliverance can be a scary thing. Freedom comes with a whole new set of dangers. Being redeemed doesn’t mean being removed from the enemies of life. Night still comes for those who have been released from bondage. But I’m also thinking that its during those times when those who have been saved are reminded to “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD” . . . when they are taught that “the LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent” (Ex. 14:13-14).

And after the night before, there is morning. There is that coming out the other side having seen the mighty hand of God act on the behalf of His feeble, fear-filled, followers. And in that moment . . . and it may be just a moment for the next challenge may not be far off . . . praise is fitting. To reflect on the victory is to know that it is the LORD who has triumphed . . . it is God who is our strength . . . that He has become our salvation . . . and therefore, it is fitting that He should be our song. While it might not be the final victory . . . more trials to come . . . more nights to endure . . . to remember and reflect on those mornings after the night before is to cling to Him as “my God” . . . is to look beyond the chariots and still praise Him . . . to be reminded of His faithfulness to generations of His people and to exalt Him.

I need to savor those mornings after the night before . . . I need to put them in remembrance when times are good . . . I need to recall them when times are not so good . . . and, I need to respond with the song of those bought with a great price and brought out with a great salvation.

You have led in Your steadfast love the people whom You have redeemed; You have guided them by Your strength to Your holy abode. . . . You will bring them in and plant them on Your own mountain, the place, O LORD, which You have made for Your abode, the sanctuary, O Lord, which Your hands have established.   (Exodus 15:13, 17 ESV)

I will sing to the LORD . . .

It really is a pretty fascinating conversation. There Moses is barefoot . . . maybe feeling a bit of heat on his tootsies . . . not to mention getting a bit flush in the face from the burning bush before him. And there God is before Him . . .making the place of His presence “holy ground.” While once a mover and shaker in Egypt, Moses has been out of the loop for close to 40 years now. As he approaches his 80th birthday he’s got a pretty nice life in the country . . . a wife . . . a few sheep . . . a close extended family unit . . . not really looking for life’s next challenge . . . pretty content where he’s at. But encounters with burning bushes, one-on-ones with the holy God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, can have a way of turning life upside down a bit.

And as I read the conversation in Exodus 3, while it’s so about Moses, I’m struck by how NOT about Moses it is. Check out the I’s . . .

“I am the God of your father (3:6) . . . I have surely seen the affliction of my people . . . I know their sufferings (3:7) . . . I have come down to deliver (3:8) . . . I will send you to Pharaoh (3:12) . . . I am to be remembered (3:15) . . . I promise that I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt (3:17) . . . I will stretch out my hand and strike Egypt (3:20) . . . and I will give the people favor (3:21).”

It strikes me almost as a bit comical that in the midst of this burning bush conversation that Moses would ask, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?” (3:11)

Hello!!! Weren’t listening? Were your feet not lighting up a bit? Weren’t you kind of picking up what God was laying down? He’s coming down to deliver His people . . . He’s the one promising deliverance . . . He’s the one to be remembered in all this . . . He’s the one who making the promise. You’re just the one being sent that the people might know the name of the LORD . . .

God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” And He said, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘I AM has sent me to you.'”  (Exodus 3:14 ESV)

No disrespect intended toward Moses . . . for “there has not risen a prophet since in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face” (Ex. 34:10) . . . just an identification with this one invited to be part of God’s work who, initially, focused more on who he was rather than on who God is.

Pretty natural, I think, to focus on what we think our capabilities are rather on the One who called us . . . to take inventory of what we bring to the table instead of remembering that in Christ we have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in heavenly places (Eph. 1:3) . . . to be reminded of our fleshly weakness rather than believe that “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness . . . that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature” (2Peter 1:3-4) . . . to focus on how difficult the battle could be and not remember that “in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Rom. 8:37).

But this morning I’m reminded that while, by His grace, He might chose to involve me . . . it’s about He. That, while I might be asked to get in the game, He’s the One with the playbook. That, while He might ask me to live my life in response to His direction, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). That, while he might call my name, mine is to make His Name known.

May I never lose sight of the burning bush . . . might my feet always be “warm” from standing on holy ground . . . and, regardless of what He calls me to do, may I be reminded that it’s not about “Who I am?” . . . but all about “I AM WHO I AM.”

By His grace . . . for His glory . .