Given my comments on the mythic nature of the first
eleven chapters of Genesis, one might wonder where exactly the Bible becomes
historical. This section in Exodus is certainly a clear example of a historical
narrative. As Friedman says, “The quantity of detail in these chapters is an
indication that these are authentic descriptions of the Tabernacle and its
accouterments.”[1]
Unfortunately, for most readers today, these chapters are also overwhelmingly
boring. Stories are so much more interesting!
However, there are some interesting points that
arise out of these otherwise dry descriptions of the temple furnishings and the
clothing for the priests. In Exodus 28:2 we read, “And you shall make holy
clothes for Aaron, your brother, for glory and for beauty.” This suggests to me
that God is interested in beauty. Thus, is it not amazing that some Christians
seem to have no interest in beauty whatsoever, or even think it dangerous?
Friedman writes, “Beauty inspires. Building
beautiful places for the practice of religion is a valuable thing. Of course this does not mean building
great edifices at the expense of the starving masses, nor does it mean focusing
on the outer trappings and missing the content and spirit that they serve.
There must be balance—wisdom. But we must recognize the value of art and
beauty: the building, the priests’ clothing, the music, the smells, the tastes.
Religion is not the enemy of the senses.”[2]
Some Christians, congregations, denominations, and
traditions within Christianity need to recover the beautiful for the
advancement of ritual, so that we will be led closer to the most beautiful one, the
Lord. Of course, some segments of Christianity have never lost the sense of the
importance of beauty to the practice of religion. I think here of the Orthodox,
the Catholic and the Anglican branches of the Church. Personally, I think the
Anglican Church is especially good at creating beautiful buildings, liturgy,
music, vestments, and more. It seems strange that C. S. Lewis seldom, if ever,
recognized this. Perhaps he was so immersed in the Anglican tradition that the
beauty of it compared to other traditions was lost on him. Or maybe Anglican
buildings, music, liturgy, etc., did not appeal to his own personal yearning
for beauty as much as certain landscapes, literature, and “secular” music did.
However, Lewis did recognize the importance of ritual and thus the Lewis quote
from this section is very apt:
When our participation in a rite becomes perfect we think
no more of ritual, but are engrossed by that about which the rite is performed; but afterwards we recognise that ritual was the sole method by which this concentration could be achieved.
(A Preface to “Paradise Lost”)
A sense of mystery is also important to religious
ritual. The Urim and Tummim mentioned in Exodus 28 are in fact so mysterious
that scholars are not certain today exactly what they were, other than being “a
mechanism other than prophecy to learn the will of God.”[3]
Friedman notes,
After the destruction of the first Temple in Jerusalem
and the loss of the ark, tablets, Tabernacle, and Urim and Tummim, much of the
feeling for the sacred must have been lost. And since the destruction of the
second Temple, our sense of the sacred has diminished even more. So it has
become ever harder to comprehend this aspect of the biblical world and to
appreciate the power and awe that were associated with sacred objects, sacred
places, and the priesthood.[4]
I think this is an especially insightful comment,
with application to Christians today. I believe we need to recover a sense of
mystery and awe in our worship, in our religious ritual, and as I have pointed
out above, I think some traditions within the Church are better at this than
others.
Another interesting point should be noted about
Exodus 28:41. Here the Hebrew word msh
is used in reference to anointing the
priests. The English form of this word is “messiah”. Later, this word is used
in regard to the kings. Saul and David are each called “messiah” (1 Samuel
12:3; 24:7; 2 Samuel 19:22). Later Jewish ideas of the coming messiah developed
out of this anointing of kings. Of course, as Christians, we view Jesus of
Nazareth as the Messiah, our great prophet, priest, and king.
In Exodus 29, we get an interesting picture of
holiness. Anyone who touches the altar in the Tabernacle will be holy. Holiness
can spread from an inanimate object to an animate one. As we will see in
Leviticus, impurity can spread by contact as well. Friedman notes, “Holiness is
a powerful condition related to closeness to the divine.”[5]
In Exodus 30, I find the idea of a potential
plague associated with a census intriguing. Friedman asks,
Why would there be a plague when the Israelites are being
counted? In biblical Israel a census is regarded as a negative thing. It gives
a central leader control: for conscription, corvee (forced labor), and
taxation. When King David takes a census, the result is a plague (2 Samuel 24).
And so here a ransom must be taken for everyone counted in the census so there
will not be a plague.[6]
This suggests to me that the author or editor of
this passage in Exodus was aware of the later plague associated with David’s
census. Thus, perhaps, this is one indication that the book of Exodus reached
its final form after the time of David.
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