by the side of ours. There begins here that which found its consummation when “the Word became flesh and tabernacled among us.” From the consecration of His first sanctuary comes the most comforting and inspiring truth that God is with us, “familiar, patient, condescending, and free.”
There is more than an interesting and suggestive beginning. The very material furniture speaks to us of something that is essential in the nature of intercourse between God and trusting souls. It states the first and last terms in which God and men may live in communion. These primitive and outworn articles suggested to the devout Jew what should be in our minds every time we come up to the House of the Lord. They suggest something that our churches should stand for in this and every age. From this point of view, it will be no waste of time or strength to see the significance of the first sanctuary and its furniture through the eyes of a spiritually minded Jewish worshipper.
THE ARK AND THE TESTIMONY
First of all, let us note that an ark, or coffer, of acacia wood was to be given a central place in the sanctuary. There was nothing unusual in that. Sacred chests were often placed in Egyptian temples. They usually contained emblems or images of some deity. But the primary object of this ark was to enclose the tablets of stone on which was inscribed the Law of God. “Thou shalt put into the ark the testimony that I shall give thee.”
The first step, then, in the preparation of a shrine for God on earth was the enshrining of His will. The supreme thing to be proclaimed was the supremacy of the Divine will. That is what the Law expressed. And at every service, though he did not actually enter the holy place, the devout Jew would be reminded of a will higher than his own, of a Law that was to be a standard of living. You can see the spirit behind that form, the truth that is greater than the symbol.
One of the great services that our modern sanctuaries have to render is to remind men of God’s will and of the Law which contains the laws of life. In the world, it is so fatally easy to magnify our own will and depend on our own judgment, to accept the world’s standards, conform to its fashions and live according to its laws. More than a few of us have yielded and taken the easy way.
The tablets of stone gave place to the scroll of the law, the scroll has given way to the printed and preached word, but the fact abides. The sermon may be dense and the service poor, but ever there stands the Law of the Lord—Thou shalt have none other Gods before me—Thou shalt not steal, bear false witness, commit adultery, or covet thy neighbor’s possessions. The sanctuary stands for the creation and recreation of the Divine standard, it rebukes our sins and calls us to obedience. It is a continual reminder of the Divine Law which it is our duty and our life to keep.
THE CALL ON GRATITUDE
Then the ark, according to Hebrews 9, was to hold Aaron’s rod and a golden pot filled with manna. Those were the relics and reminder of the deliverance and mercies by which God claimed obedience. No Israelites could be reminded of the deliverance from bondage and the guidance on the way to the promised land without realizing the depth of his obligation and the reasonableness of obedience.
Here, too, is part of the service the modern sanctuary has to render. Outside, the Law may seem stern and forbidding and religion an exacting and unreasonable service. Inside, there are tokens and reminders of the love which is the other side of Law and which turns statutes into songs and duty into delight. Some can point to the very place where kneeling the light broke into their minds and the peace of pardon came into their hearts. There is the place where you stood and plighted your troth in the comradeship that has been one of God’s best gifts to you. Yonder the seat you occupied when God comforted your soul in sorrow. You can people the pews with those godly folk who for Christ’s sake, provided the restraints and imposed the constraints which have kept you straight.
If we come reverently to the House of God what thoughts are stirred by hymns and psalms? They tell of the goodness and mercy, the grace and the patience, which have followed us all our days. As individuals, as a church, as a nation, what wondrous blessings and marvelous loving kindness we have to acknowledge. If we attend the church’s most sacred service of remembrance, the broken bread and the wine speak to us of the body that was broken and the blood shed for us and for our salvation. So, in the sanctuary, with all its memories and suggestions of redeeming love we realize that it is no unreasonable demand that we should obey God’s commands and make His will the law of our life. The “mercies of God” make the sacrifice of obedience a “reasonable service.”
CONSCIENCE AT WORK
It is not difficult to imagine what would happen when an Israelite stood before those symbols. There was the Law he ought to have kept—there the reminder of his obligation. By the Law was the knowledge of sin and in the light of God’s goodness was the revelation of his ingratitude. While he worshipped, conscience would get to work, and what outside had seemed trivial would stand condemned as the shame of his life.
That is not the least service the sanctuary renders still. We live at such a place and are immersed in so many things that conscience gets little chance. Many outside are careless and heedless. We can go on hugging ourselves in our pride and saying to our souls the flattering unction that we are as good as most and better than many. That way lies ruin. Our salvation does not begin until we are conscious of our need for it.
When we came into the sanctuary it becomes not a question of how we compare with others, but how we stand when judged by the Law and Lord of Life. We are faced with the responsibility of our privileges and obligation imposed by mercies, conscience is quickened, shame is awakened, penitence is born. In the eternal Light, we know ourselves to be “sons of ignorance and night.” Like Israel and Peter, we know ourselves unworthy and undone. There has been no substitute for the sanctuary ever suggested in this matter. Without the Sanctuary Light and revealing love, righteousness will not seem reasonable and sin will not seem worthwhile bothering about. Now let us turn to the last and golden value of what is signified in the sanctuary furniture.
THE MERCY SEAT
“And thou shalt put the mercy seat above upon the ark . . . and there will I meet with thee.” The conscience-stricken, humbled, penitent Israelite turned to meet the God whose Law he had broken and whose love he had so ill requited. Then would he fear in his heart lest God should visit his disobedience with distinction and his ingratitude with vengeance. Yet as in fear he looked he found God sending forgiveness from a seat of mercy. There above the ark of the testimony was the symbol and revelation, not only of the Law which demands and deserves obedience, but of the love which forgives and saves.
Here is the central and unique message of God’s House. Here is the gospel of grace which the church holds in trust. Nowhere else is it proclaimed. And what stands for such a gospel can never be dispensed with. Though men have forgotten their covenant, failed to keep the Law, and sinned against love, God meets them in mercy and brings them peace and joy. “There is a place where Jesus sheds the oil of gladness on our heads, a place than all beside more sweet—it is the bloodstained mercy seat.”10 I am not now attempting to state why or how. Those golden cherubs, in the attitude of devotion, with outstretched wings covering the mercy-seat, their faces turned towards it, may well remind us of that there are things the angels desire to look into and even “they cannot search the mystery, the length, breadth, and height.” For as Charles Wesley goes on, “God only knows the love of God.” Enough that God has found the way and offers peace and pardon as the free gift of His love.
It is a wonderful message and I do not fear for the church while it has such a gospel to proclaim. When I first sat down to write the message my heart failed and my pen halted. Who am I and what are my gifts that I should speak of things so sacred and proclaim such wonderful tidings? Yet my heart was singing for gladness, though the words that came were the words of a simple, old, and almost forgotten hymns. “I have long withstood His grace, long provoked Him to His
