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| Strength for the Journey #9 Ministry in the Heavenly Tabernacle |
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Looking to Jesus: Ministry in the Heavenly Tabernacle
Reading: Hebrews 9:1-10
Introduction: I want you to imagine for a moment this morning that as you drove into the parking lot here at church you were greeted by a new roadside sign just as you turned into the driveway. There were just two words on the sign: “Limited Access.” It’s the sort of sign you might see at the entrance to a gated community; or perhaps at some of our national parks or national recreation areas and wildlife preserves. Limited access in wilderness areas means that when I put my backpack on and hike in, I’m not going to find a whole lot of people driving off-road SUV’s when I get there. It means some quiet and escape. But what would you think about a church that had that sign? Would it be good news or bad news?
Obviously the sign needs a context to have meaning. There are certain circumstances where limited access seems not only appropriate but necessary. For example, many colleges and universities around the country have established some limited access rules. Not everyone who applies gets accepted for admission. We obviously went through a time in this country when access was determined by racial, ethnic, and gender boundaries, and we are relieved that such limits to access no longer exist for the most part. Yet, we also understand that sometimes no sign is needed to create the impression of limited access. Socio-economic barriers rarely come with a sign, but they do limit access.
There are times when I wish access to certain things would be more limited than it is. I’m thinking of purchasing one of those little black boxes that one attaches to the phone line that blocks access to telemarketers. I don’t live in a gated community, but I’m not a big fan of door-to-door sales, particularly those that operate on the basis of making me feel guilty for not helping someone get off the streets. There are times when having an office door with limited access—where not just anybody can get in—seems like a good idea to me. There are even times when I’m glad that someone else’s limited access screened me out! There’s less responsibility that way. Limited access means less involvement on my part.
Whether I am on the outside and can’t get in, or I’m on the inside screening others out, there is a certain amount of power and control that comes my way. That’s obviously so if I’m the insider screening out others. But within the limits of my access, that is, if I do have some access but not much, there is also some manageability and control that I have over the circumstances.
Returning again to church, what would such a sign mean here? Limited access for certain groups or kinds of people? Limited access to God? Limited access to the building itself?
Our preacher in Hebrews this morning takes time out from his description of the heavenly throne room where Jesus now ministers as eternal high priest to reflect for a moment on the nature and circumstances of the shadow tabernacle ordained by God in the days of Moses. It is helpful to remember the pleas of the people when they first encountered God on the mountain. As the earth quaked and the thunder rolled, as God delivered through Moses the 10 commandments as they stood and witnessed the cloud of smoke and the noise and shaking, they told Moses they were happy to obey the voice of God, but from then on they would prefer that Moses speak to God and report back to them. They were quite certain they didn’t want to be that close again. They clearly understood that they were in the presence of an all-powerful God, and a little distance was a good idea.
So the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, was erected as a place where God could dwell in the midst of the people. It came with very specific instructions that the Hebrews preacher shares with his audience in the opening verses of chapter nine.
“Now even the first covenant had regulations for worship and an earthly sanctuary. For a tent was constructed, the first one, in which were the lampstand, the table, and the bread of the Presence; this is called the Holy Place. 3 Behind the second curtain was a tent called the Holy of Holies. In it stood the golden altar of incense and the ark of the covenant overlaid on all sides with gold, in which there were a golden urn holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant; above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat. Of these things we cannot speak now in detail” (Hebrews 9:1-5).
The preacher creates an image for his audience. Remember, he is reaching into the stories of Exodus for his images. He’s not talking about current day circumstances at a Temple in Jerusalem. First he describes a “Holy Place,” a rectangle inside of which was a “Most Holy Place,” which was square. It had very specific furniture: The lamp stand was the light of God in the tabernacle, symbolizing God lighting the darkness for his people. The Bread of Presence was a matter of table fellowship with God, a thank offering for God’s provisions. The Gold Altar of Incense symbolized the peoples’ prayers and the smoke that filled the Holy Place symbolized God’s presence.
Inside the Most Holy Place was the Ark of the Covenant, where God chose to center his presence among the people. The ark was God’s resting place. The articles in the ark symbolized God’s covenant faithfulness with his people. Hovering over the ark were the cherubim, statuesque copies of those surrounding God’s throne. They testified to his presence. The cover of the ark, the mercy seat, was where the blood was sprinkled once a year on the Day of Atonement. The Tent of Meeting: The presence of Almighty God in the midst of his people. Experiencing God in the smoke filled room with images of fellowship and conversation. The promise of Creator God in our midst, symbolizing covenant relationship and identity as his chosen people.
But as the preacher goes on to explain, there were signs everywhere that said “limited access.”
“Such preparations having been made, the priests go continually into the first tent to carry out their ritual duties; but only the high priest goes into the second, and he but once a year, and not without taking the blood that he offers for himself and for the sins committed unintentionally by the people” (9:6-7).
Only the priests could enter daily into the holy place. And the Holy of Holies, the most holy place could be entered only once a year by only one person. Only the High Priest—remember the preacher already has described all of the human limitations of the high priest: appointed among humans, subject to constant change because all humans die and have to be replaced. The high priest entered on the day of atonement as a sacrifice for sin, including his own sin. The preacher very specifically mentions that the sins of the people were unintentional because there was no sense of indulgence here where a person said after the fashion of Mardi Gras today, “Let’s sin today, for atonement comes tomorrow.” The High Priest entered once a year bringing with him the cleansing and atoning element of blood as his means of limited access to God.
So you get the picture. The people have no access to the Holy Place or the Holy of Holies. Someone else has to go in on their behalf. The people and the priests are denied access to the Most Holy Place. Only one person can fully enter the presence of God. He can enter only one time a year and only with provisions of blood to atone for his own sins and the sins of the people.
But our preacher then explains one more huge limitation in the shadow sanctuary:
“By this the Holy Spirit indicates that the way into the sanctuary has not yet been disclosed as long as the first tent is still standing. This is a symbol of the present time, during which gifts and sacrifices are offered that cannot perfect the conscience of the worshiper, but deal only with food and drink and various baptisms, regulations for the body imposed until the time comes to set things right” (Hebrews 9:8-10).
Remember, for the Hebrews preacher, Scripture is a Living Word revealing the will of God by the power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is revealing to his present day audience what all of that limited access means in their time. Access to the sanctuary, access to the presence of God is not disclosed as long as the first tent is standing. As long as access is denied to all but the priests, the rest of us have no access. And here is the heart of the problem with limited access: those gifts and offerings and sacrifices being delivered on our behalf cannot cleanse the conscience of the worshipper. For the preacher in Hebrews, “conscience” is that combination of heart and mind that God promised to make whole in the new covenant spoken by Jeremiah. We heard those words in chapter eight:
“This is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my laws in their minds, and write them on their hearts, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people” (8: 10)
Rather than the people living at a distance from God, where the rituals of the priests and the high priest of the temple deal with us humans from the outside; where others perform on our behalf so that there never is more direct contact with living presence, the preacher believes a new day has dawned. That was his proclamation at the end of chapter seven: Jesus has become the guarantee of a better covenant, he says.
“Furthermore, the former priests were many in number, because they were prevented by death from continuing in office; but he holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever. Consequently he is able for all time to save those who approach God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. For it was fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. Unlike the other high priests, he has no need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins, and then for those of the people; this he did once for all when he offered himself. For the law appoints as high priests those who are subject to weakness, but the word of the oath, which came later than the law, appoints a Son who has been made perfect forever” (7:23-29).
As long as the first tent stands and we live in a shadow world of limited access, then we have forgiveness, but its always one sin at a time, complete with rituals and practices that do indeed offer forgiveness but never that “inside-out” cleansing of the whole person before God. The world of limited access and performance by the few on behalf of the many is the world of “food and drink and various baptisms, regulations for the body imposed until the time comes to set things right.” It’s not difficult to see the preacher’s point in this description. Without doubt, the limited access provided in those days was better than no access at all. Having someone who could at least get close enough to God often enough to provide for some forgiveness was better than no forgiveness.
As a matter of fact, there is some human satisfaction in the limited access approach. Other people deal with God for me, I don’t have to do it myself. I have some formulaic prescriptions that, if I observe them I get the benefit of God’s forgiveness on a periodic basis. I have a short list of activities that I can do that cover me, protect me from God’s wrath most of the time at least. And forgiveness is all about my performance and the performance of the people who have a bit more access than I do. Experience a cleansing ritual like baptism, eat a ceremonial meal every now than then, go hang out around the sanctuary regularly. That’s about all one can do.
I hope my satire is bleeding through here. I have a terrible fear that we humans often prefer limited access! We are in charge! We have limited responsibilities. Get baptized, eat the right kind of bread, drink the right kind of drink, pray or get somebody else to pray for us, and that’s about all we can do. Even with an umbrella of grace, we prefer that which we are in charge of, a limited set of rules and regulations and performances that we do that make us feel good about ourselves. Better yet—and this was true in the days of the Tabernacle and Temple as well—we know that our performance gets us closer than “those people.” Our access is not as limited as theirs. Our limited access gives us exclusive privileges. Our understandings and practices make us better than.
But there is still the glaring problem, our preacher says, of the uncleansed conscience. “I think I’m going to heaven….I hope so….if I live right and pray right…I’m pretty sure I’m going to heaven….” It’s not just the lack of full assurance; it is also a false notion of God’s absence. I actually believe that God is only around me when I choose to be around him.
Without unlimited access God will not fully come to us and we cannot fully come to him. You see, that was the fatal thinking at times for Israel. It wasn’t just their limited access to God. It was a reversal of thought that believed limited access was somehow a two-way street. That God’s access to the thoughts and intents of their hearts was also limited.
The perfect high priest has entered the throne room on our behalf, the preacher says. There is now unlimited access! The question is, do we really want it ourselves? Do we really want the rest of humanity to share in it with us?
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