In Acts 7, we read that not only was Moses “mighty in works,” which means he was a military hero, but that he was “full of the wisdom of Egypt.” In other words, he was schooled in philosophy and astronomy, in science and history, in language and botany. And yet here he is in a desert with one man and his seven daughters. From Genesis 46:34 we know that in the eyes of the Egyptian, shepherds were an abomination. Therefore, the man who had been most respected was now utterly rejected.

And yet he was content.

According to Paul, contentment is precisely what you and I are to study (Philippians 4:11). “Learn to be content,” he tells us, understanding that if we’re not content where we are today, we’ll not be content wherever we plan on going tomorrow.

If asked whether we’re content right here, right now, most of us would answer, “Not yet, but I’m going to be tomorrow, next month, real soon, around the corner, coming up. Any day now, things will be perfect.” Moses, however, wouldn’t have answered this way, for he had learned the hugely important lesson of contentment.

“I know I’m supposed to learn to be content,” people say. “But how?”

I believe verse 22 tells us how: Be a Gershom. You see, Gershom means “stranger.” Therefore, in naming his son Gershom, Moses in essence said, “I’m just passing through. This world is not my home.”

Contentment is not hard to learn if you realize what you really long for is Heaven. Once I understand that I’m just a stranger here, that I won’t ever fit in, that I’m just passing through, I enjoy life because I’m not expecting the job, the car, the house, the relationship, or the bank account to do what those things can never do. If I am truly Gershom, I’ll take a whole lot more things a whole lot less seriously, and as a result, my life will be characterized by joy and contentment.

It seems God often plants His people in the desert before He uses them.

Elijah was a man of the desert.

John the Baptist grew up in the desert regions of the Dead Sea.

Paul spent the three years following his conversion in the deserts of Arabia.

John the revelator was banished to the desert isle of Patmos.

Like you, I have gone through desert times, dry seasons when I have wondered, “Lord, where’s Your presence and where’s Your power?” But, as the years have gone by, I have come to understand that those desert times are imperative if I am to be one who is not dependent upon my feelings or my emotions. Desert seasons are essential for me to come to a place where I can say, “Lord, You promised You would be with me. You promised You would never leave me no matter how dry the times might be or how solitary the setting might seem. The fact of the matter is, Your Word has been given and You’re teaching me to stand upon it rather than sink in my own emotions.”

Over the years, I have seen lots of talented people in all sorts of ministries fall away because their emotions, rather than the Word, dictated their walk. Emotions go up and down. Emotions are fickle. Emotions are affected by how our job is going, how our family is doing, or how much pizza we had the previous evening. But because God wants us to be stable and solid, to walk by faith and not by feelings, He will put us into a desert place where we, like Moses, must learn to be content and say, “Lord, You’ve given me the promise of Your Word. And that is all I need.”

To speak to Moses, I would have thought the Lord would use a mighty oak tree, strong and sturdy; or a majestic pine tree, tall and stately; or a fragrant cedar, smelling sweetly. But the Lord didn’t use any of those. He used a bush. The Hebrew word translated “bush” is cenah, and literally refers to a thorny bush. According to botanists, thorns are basically aborted branches. That is, they should have been branches, but just didn’t get that far. So here’s this bush. It’s common; it’s prickly; and even its attempts at growing branches were too weak to amount to anything. In other words, it’s just like me.

The Lord loves to use bushes like you and me . . .

For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence. - 1 Corinthians 1:26–29

God chooses those who are bushes, those who are bush-league, those who feel bushed, because when He uses a bush all of the glory goes to Him.

So great a violinist was Niccolò Paganini that a legend arose wherein he walked onto the stage of a Viennese concert hall one evening, violin in hand, and broke a string. He followed this by breaking a second string, then a third. With only one string remaining, Paganini nestled the violin under his chin and, for the next eighteen minutes, played magnificently. As the crowd rose to its feet in ovation, Paganini said, “One string and Paganini.” And, realizing they had heard a true master, the crowd erupted in applause.

I might feel like I only have one string. I might feel strung-out, strung-along, or third-string. But the reality is, the Lord loves to use that which is weak, unimportant, and unimpressive because then He, the Master Musician, gets the ovation, the glory, and the adoration.

Why does God reserve all glory for Himself? Because He knows that if He shares His glory with us, if people look up to you, lean on me, or become impressed with us, every one of us will ultimately disappoint them. Therefore, He says, “I alone will receive glory because I alone will never disappoint anyone who looks to Me, who trusts in Me, who leans on Me.” Only God is solid and stable enough to see us through day after year after decade on through eternity. So He uses bushes, one-stringed violins, common people like you and me in order that He alone might receive the praise.

Would Moses have turned aside to study this situation - this interesting phenomenon of a bush burning but not being consumed - if he had been in the city, if he had been engaged in lots of activity, if he had been in the palace of Pharaoh as he was forty years previously? I don’t think so.

And now I see that the Lord places me in desert regions because it’s only then that I have eyes to see and ears to hear that which He desires to tell me. When things are humming, active, and hectic, I believe I miss many of the key indicators God sends my way. So if you’re in a desert place, a desert job, a desert marriage, rejoice, for it will give you opportunity to see and sense the Lord in ways that, if you were more active, more engaged, or even more fulfilled, you would miss.

Here’s Moses on the backside of the desert day after week after month after year. Decades go by. And then something happens. Among the many bushes in the wilderness, one burns brightly without being consumed, causing Moses to eventually realize that the Lord was with him.

Where is God today?

He’s in the bush sitting next to you.

“That prickly person?” you ask.

Yes. God is here in the person sitting next to you, in the person you’re married to, in the person you work with.

“Wait a minute,” you protest. “The Lord certainly can’t speak through my husband, my parents, or my boss. They’re not on fire.”

Oh, but there’s what you need to see. The bush was not on fire. The fire was in the bush. You might think people around you aren’t on fire. That may be true. But if they’re believers, the fire is in them . . .

Although Jesus did mighty works in Capernaum, there were those who scoffed and said, “We know Him. He’s the son of the carpenter. Aren’t His brothers and sisters among us?” (Matthew 13). They thought He was the son of a carpenter, failing to realize He is the Son of the Creator.

In Mark 6, the disciples are toiling; the waves are mounting; the wind is howling. And in the middle of the night, they see someone walking toward them. A legend of their day said that right before fishermen drowned, they saw a spirit coming toward them. No wonder their fear was rising. “It’s a ghost!” the disciples cried, until Jesus said, “Be of good cheer. It is I.”

As two disciples walked toward Emmaus, they were joined by One who asked them why they were so sad. “Are you a stranger here?” they asked incredulously, not recognizing it was Jesus Himself who walked beside them (Luke 24).

Finding the tomb empty that Easter morning, Mary Magdalene wept. Seeing a man she supposed to be the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have moved the body, tell me where you have taken Him.” But when the “gardener” answered and spoke her name, she recognized Him for who He was (John 20).

Jesus dwells with us in the carpenters’ sons, in those we think we know. He speaks to us through people who may frighten us as they dare to rattle the bars of our beliefs. He reaches out to us through strangers walking alongside us. He speaks to us through gardeners, through plumbers, through those who work beside and for us. Oh, they might not be on fire. But the fire is in them; and the Lord can use them as easily, as powerfully, and as surprisingly as He can use a common, everyday bush like you.

At the ripe old age of eighty, Moses was given a massive, monumental task. He was called by God to lead the children of Israel out of the bondage of Egypt into the Land of Promise. For the previous forty years, he had been on the backside of the desert, seemingly forsaken and forgotten. No wonder he said, “Lord, who am I? I’m eighty years old. I’ve been out of the loop for forty years. I’ve been out here in the desert for four decades. Lord, who am I?”

“Certainly I will be with thee,” God answered. In other words, the question isn’t who you are, but “Who is with you?”And the answer is “I AM.”

Like Moses, we might say, “Who are we?”

And, as He said to Moses, the Lord would say to us, “The issue isn’t who you are, but ‘Who is with you?’”

Fifteen hundred years later, Jesus said to His disciples, “Go into the world and preach the Gospel. Make disciples and baptize them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” (see Matthew 28:19). Jesus commissioned His disciples to see people set free.

“Who are we to do this massive, monumental task?” they must have wondered.

But Jesus went on to say, “And lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world” (Matthew 28:20). “It’s not who you are, but who’s with you. That’s the key.”

After hearing that the Lord is with him, Moses asks, “What shall I say Your name is?” Moses asks this question not for the sake of identification. He already knows God is talking to him. God had already identified Himself in verse 6. So it wasn’t a matter of identification. Nor was it a matter of conversation. Moses wasn’t trying to make small talk, not with the lives of three million people at stake.

Moses’ question was neither for identification nor for idle conversation. It was for the purpose of communication.

“I know You are the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I know You are the Supreme Entity. Those are Your titles. But what’s Your name?” Moses asked God. It’s as if he’s saying, “Lord, if I’m going to lead three million people across the wilderness, I need to be able to reach You.”

“That I may know him,” Paul declared, “and the power of his resurrection” (Philippians 3:10). You may not have to lead three million people across the wilderness today, but even to navigate whatever is on your schedule, there is not a more joyful or needful goal than that of knowing God.

In Bible days, a person’s name was an indication of his nature. That’s why we’re told to pray in Jesus’ name. “If you ask anything in My name,” He said, “I will do it” (see John 14:14).

“In Jesus’ name” is not merely a phrase to tack on to the end of your prayers, like “over and out.” No, praying in Jesus’ name means praying according to His nature, praying in harmony with His heart, praying as He would pray if He were in our situation. So in asking God’s name, Moses in essence is saying, “What’s Your nature?” And God, for the first time, here in Exodus 3, identifies His name as literally, I AM THAT I AM.

“I AM . . . what?” Moses may have wondered.

“I AM whatever you have need of,” God must have intimated. “Moses, you’re on a journey. The task before you is huge and you want to know who I am. I AM whatever you need. Not I USED TO BE, not WILL BE, but I AM presently. Immutable. Unchangeable. The same yesterday, today, and forever. Rock solid. I AM. That’s My name; I AM whatever you need.”

Fifteen hundred years later, Jesus would shed further light on God’s name by declaring,

I AM the Bread.

I AM the Way.

I AM the Truth.

I AM the Life.

I AM the Light of the World.

I AM the Good Shepherd.

I AM the Door.

I AM the Vine.

Jesus took the name of God and filled in the blank.

“Show us the Father,” said Philip.

“He that has seen Me has seen the Father,” Jesus answered (see John 14:9). No wonder two hundred armed soldiers seeking to arrest Jesus fell down backwards upon hearing His irrefutable declaration of deity, upon hearing Him say, “I am He,” or literally, “I AM.”

For many years, I didn’t fully understand this, and thought Jesus was not I AM but I GIVE, as in “I give bread, deliverance, strength, and healing.” Now I understand that He’s infinitely more than that. We think we need bread, healing, deliverance, and companionship. In actuality, however, we’re craving Jesus. It’s not something He gives us, but who He will be for us step by step, day by day.

Often people say, “I can’t be used. If I try to serve in some way, the people won’t respond. If I try to be used at work or in Sunday school, in my neighborhood or in my family, no one will listen. If I try to pray with my wife, she won’t receive from me; that’s for other guys, not me.” But before you fall prey to that kind of thinking, take a look at what is in your hand.

“What’s in your hand?” God asked Moses.

“A shepherd’s rod,” Moses answered.

“That’s what I’ll use,” said God.



“What’s in your hand, Paul?”

“A pen. I’m a scholar.”

“I’ll use that,” said God. “You will write a great portion of My Word.”



“What’s in your hand, Peter?”

“A net. I’m a fisherman.”

“I’ll use that,” said God. “You will be a fisher of men and haul people into the Kingdom.”

If you wonder how you can serve God, how you can be used by Him, take a look at what’s in your hand. When you were born, God gave you gifts that are simply waiting to be activated when you become born again. You’re already doing that which He will energize and empower for ministry. What’s in your hand? A computer? A hammer? A basketball? That’s what He will use for His glory.

You may be an accountant, a carpenter, or a surgeon. God says, “Throw down your occupation, your profession and see what it is in and of itself: it’s a snake. If you’re living for it, if you’re all caught up in it, if you’re depending on it, you will be bitten by it.” The same holds true - maybe especially true - with regard to ministry. Moses had been a faithful shepherd for forty years. Here, God makes it clear that nothing could compare to an empty hand lifted and open to Him. It’s as if, at the outset of the monumental ministry to which He was calling Moses, God said, “I must be your passion, not your service for Me, not your talents or abilities, not your spiritual gifts. Nothing must take the place of an open hand, an open heart to embrace Me personally.”

Maybe you’ve been forced to throw down some skill, some calling, some position you were good at or gifted for. Don’t despise this, for now you can say, “Lord, now that I don’t have that in my hand anymore, I’m rediscovering it’s not doing something for You that I crave, but it is simply You. I’m not looking for an opportunity to exercise my gift or to be used in ministry. I’m just looking for more intimacy with You. No wonder it had to be pried out of my hand. I get it. It’s a snake.” And once you understand this, you’re in a position to pick it up once again.

To avoid getting bit, the wisest thing to do is to grab a snake by the back of the head. God, however, tells Moses to grab it by the tail as if to say, “Now that you see that ministry is not the priority, pick it up again, only this time by the tail. It’s not going to have priority in your life. It’s not going to be the thing that drives you.” There is no stopping the man or woman who puts ministry in its rightful position - as the tail - thus allowing God to take His rightful position as Head.

God had given Moses the ability to herd sheep. In addition to this ability, here we see God gave him a testimony. Leprosy is a picture of sin in Scripture. Therefore, the illustration of a leprous hand made whole is one of being born again. What God has done in each of our lives is a powerful tool in ministry. Share your story. Share your testimony. It’s powerful and cannot be denied.

In addition to ability and a testimony, the third tool God gave Moses was authority. He was to pour water from the Nile River - the river that sustained the entire Egyptian Empire - on the ground, where it would become blood. And in so doing, the people would see that no matter how refreshing their surroundings might be, apart from God, even their best efforts at life were doomed to die.

With regard to ministry, never underestimate the power of telling the truth directly, of saying, “The path you’re on will lead to death. But here’s what God has done: He died on the Cross that you might live. The water you’re drinking will lead to death. But if you drink of Jesus, the Water of Life, you will never thirst again.”

Regarding ministry, a lot of people have gifts, callings, and good intentions. But they never get to the root issue. They never directly say to a family member, neighbor, relative, or friend, “What you’re drinking will kill you. You need to be born again.” When is the last time you truly shared the message of the Cross with a non-believer? As good as simply being nice to people, helping them out, making them feel loved, welcomed, or affirmed might be, these things can’t hold a candle to the power of the Cross. There is nothing more powerful than a clear, simple presentation of the Cross.

“Let My son go,” God said to Pharaoh, “or your son will die” (see Exodus 4:23). Two sons are being talked about, but there are three sons in the story, for Moses had a son as well. And Moses couldn’t pronounce judgment on Pharaoh’s house while his own house was in error (1 Peter 4:17). You see, in Genesis 17:11, God instituted circumcision as an outward sign of an inward belief, its counterpart seen in the New Testament ordinance of baptism (Colossians 2:11–12). Circumcision was given to the Jewish nation as a mark of differentiation between them and every other culture round about them. Yet, Moses never circumcised his son. As a descendant of Abraham, Moses certainly knew the significance of this act. Why, then, wouldn’t he have circumcised Gershom?

It could be that he was preoccupied with his occupation. It could be that he was so into watching sheep that he forgot about the spiritual needs of his son. And before we wonder how watching sheep in the desert could be that consuming, we would do well to ask ourselves why we expend so much time and energy simply to make another sale, to get another client, to climb another step, to make another dollar. When we get to Heaven, on the other side of eternity, we will surely say, “What was I thinking? Why did I take my career so seriously? Why wasn’t I there for my son, helping him to grow in his walk with the Lord?”

Or perhaps the reason Moses didn’t circumcise his son was a little more subtle. Perhaps it was because he was caught up in ministry. Listen carefully, Mom and Dad: there is no ministry in which you will ever be engaged that is more important, more fulfilling, more satisfying, gratifying, or thrilling than discipling your own children. God tapping you on the shoulder and saying three million people will listen to you would be incomparable to seeing your son or daughter discipled and trained. And lest you think your family isn’t a big enough ministry for a man of your skills and abilities, consider this: Jesus, the perfect Man, the ultimate minister, chose only twelve disciples into whom to pour His life. Therefore, one, two, or three kids is more than enough for even the best of us. From day one you get to pray for them, love them, and model God to them. It’s an incredible opportunity.

Revelation is directly linked to obedience. Pharaoh didn’t know the Lord solely because he had no intention to obey Him.

Do you desire to be obedient to the Lord? If so, He will give revelation to you and will provide direction for you. But our God is so good that He will not give further revelation to us or further direction to us if we have not been obedient to that which He has already told us to do. Often, people say, “I just don’t know what the Lord’s plan or will for me is.” And frequently, it’s an issue of whether or not they’ve obeyed the last thing He told them to do.

The desk in my study is piled high with papers. My in box is overflowing. The Lord, however, is so good to us that He doesn’t keep stacking up our spiritual in boxes. He gives us one thing to do, one assignment, one memo, one piece of information, one directive. And then He waits until we do it before giving us another. “My burden is easy,” He declared. “My load is light” (see Matthew 11:30). He gives us one thing to do. He doesn’t overwhelm or overwork us.

Pharaoh referred to Moses’ request to worship as “vain words,” or a waste of time. And Pharaoh’s mentality prevails to this day. “You don’t have time for Communion. You don’t have time for worship. You don’t have time for devotions. There’s work to do,” our society barks.

Nowhere is this mindset seen more clearly than in Judas who, observing Mary anoint Jesus with ointment costing a year’s salary, said, “That’s a waste. That money could have been spent on the poor. That money could have been used to do some good work” (see John 12:3–6). Yet Jesus would later refer to Judas himself as “the son of perdition,” or literally, “the son of waste,” because the biggest waste is that of wasting the opportunity to worship.

The moles in my backyard drive me crazy. To rid my yard of them, I’ve stuck a hose down their holes and flooded them for an hour at a time. I’ve tossed in little smoke bombs. I’ve stood vigilantly over their holes with shovel in hand - all to no avail. Then I read that in one night, a single mole will often dig three hundred feet of tunnel. And, as my experience proves, the moles’ efforts are not in vain, for even though they’re digging under the surface where no one can see them, when the smoke bombs are thrown in or the water is turned on, they can escape to any number of tunnels and bomb shelters.

That’s exactly what the devotional life does for you and me. “What a waste of time it is staying up late or getting up early to study the Word. What a waste of time it is to go to church on a Thursday night,” some might mutter. But they fail to understand that those things are tunnels and bomb shelters that will protect you from the inevitable attacks of the Enemy.

“Why couldn’t we cast this demon out?” the disciples asked Jesus.

“This kind does not come out but by prayer and fasting,” Jesus answered (see Matthew 17:21). In other words, we are to live a life of prayer and fasting, for if we wait to lay the spiritual groundwork until the challenge is before us, it will be too late. We won’t be able to do what we could have done, or to be who we might have been because there were no tunnels dug under the surface early in the morning and late at night.

Although we sympathize with the children of Israel, we must make note of their mistake in crying to Pharaoh instead of calling out to God. Are you having a hard time at work? Is your boss cracking the whip? Is your supervisor loading you down? Are your co-workers demanding more of you than you think reasonable? Don’t cry to your boss. Cry to the Lord first. Get direction from Him, for as the old hymn rightly declares, “O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”

This is so simple and we know it to be true. But I must be reminded of it over and over again. Maybe you do too. It’s so easy to cry to Pharaoh - to cry to a husband or wife, brother or sister, pastor or elder. It’s easy to seek out people, when in reality God would say, “Woe to the rebellious people who take counsel but not of Me” (see Isaiah 30:1). Is the whip cracking? Is your back aching? Cry to the Lord.

“I will give you salvation, liberation, redemption, adoption, revelation, direction, and provision.” In Exodus 6:6–8, we see seven “I wills,” seven statements of promise made by God. The one thing we don’t see is a single, “If you . . .” because such is the nature of the Gospel. The Gospel is the expression of God’s fervent love toward us. It’s all about what He has done and nothing about what we must do. The Gospel is nothing short of the best news the world has ever heard: Our sin is forgiven. The price is paid. The work is done.

Although he was about to be beheaded, when Paul wrote to his protégé Timothy, he didn’t say, “Be strong in righteousness,” or “Be strong in your understanding of theology.” No, as good as those things may be, Paul’s final word to Timothy was, “Be strong in grace” (see 2 Timothy 2:1). The degree to which we understand that grace is not the beginning point but the only point, is the degree to which we’ll find ourselves wanting to study, desiring to pray, eager to worship . . . as grace does its work in our hearts day by day.

“Go speak to Pharaoh,” God instructed Moses. “He won’t listen to you, but that will give Me the opportunity to stretch out My hand upon the land of Egypt. As a result, the entire nation will know that I am the Lord and there is none like Me.” Yes, there would be problems. Yes, there would be tribulation. Yes, there would be difficulty, all of which would affect God’s people. But it was all part of God’s purpose and plan not only to provide liberation for His children, but to give revelation to the Egyptians.

“Lord, liberate me,” we cry. “Set me free from the snap of the whips of the Egyptian oppressors. Set me free from the bondage of baking bricks under the desert sun.”

“Gladly, for that’s My intention,” the Lord says. “But I am also doing something else simultaneously. You see, I want the Egyptians, the unsaved, the lost souls to see My power, to understand My reality. And for that to happen, there will be a series of problems which will affect you too.”

“But why do I have to endure this trial, Lord? Why can’t You take this cancer away immediately? Don’t You have that ability? Why can’t You solve the problem today? Why can’t You work now?”

And the Lord answers, “I’ve got two things I’m doing simultaneously. Yes, I’m bringing you into the Land of Promise. But at the same time, there are Egyptians watching carefully to see how you handle the same trials they face. I want them to see My power. I want them to see what I can do. I want to show them that I can see you through.”

Seeing you win the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes doesn’t cause the Egyptian to scratch his head and say, “Wow.” No, the Egyptian scratches his head when he sees you facing problems on the job, difficulties in the family, setbacks financially, difficulties physically, and yet walking through them victoriously. God never promised to protect us from problems. He promised to see us through them. And as He does, the neighbor, the co-worker, brother, sister-in-law, or father will say, “There’s something about the way you navigate through life that I don’t understand.”

And then you can say, “It’s the power and reality, the grace and goodness of God. And He’s available for you too.”

I like that, don’t you? Aaron’s snake just got bigger and bigger as the magicians’ snakes were scarfed up. “Go into all the world and preach the Gospel,” Jesus said. “And if you come across any serpents, they will not hurt you” (see Mark 16:15-18). As Paul put wood on a fire, when a snake in the sticks felt the heat, it fastened its fangs into his hand. Observing this, the natives decided Paul must be a murderer to deserve such a fate. But when they saw him shake the snake into the fire and feel no harm, they changed their minds about him and he was able to give a grand and powerful witness for Jesus Christ (Acts 28:1–10).

As believers, we are not free from attack, but we are immune to its effect. Snakes show up and they strike. But, like Paul, we can shake them off. Even though the Enemy was able to produce snakes, Aaron’s rod ate them up.

Joshua and Caleb were among the group of twelve who spied out the Land of Promise. “The land is a glorious place,” they said to the children of Israel upon their return.

“But there are giants there. And we’re like grasshoppers in their sight,” argued the other ten.

“No. God is with us, and these guys will be bread for us. We can eat them up,” countered Joshua and Caleb (see Numbers 14:9).

But the people listened to the ten instead of the two and wandered for forty years.

After their entire generation died, Joshua and Caleb were at last allowed to enter the Land of Promise. When they arrived, a now eighty-five-year-old Caleb said, “Joshua, for my inheritance, give me the land where the giants are” (see Joshua 14:12).

Why would Caleb make such a request? Because he knew something about giants. He knew they were bread. And he was hungry. “Give me the challenges which challenge others,” he said. “Give me the giants - and pass the butter.”

Don’t run away from challenges or obstacles, gang. Instead, say, “This is a chance for me, like Aaron’s rod, to grow bigger and bigger. It’s a way for me, like Caleb, to grow spiritually strong.”

“Ask your God to take the frogs away,” Pharaoh begged Moses and Aaron.

“When do you want this to happen?” asked Moses.

In what is arguably the most amazing answer ever given in all of Scripture, Pharaoh didn’t say “Immediately!” or “Right away!” He said, “Tomorrow.” Why? He wanted one more night with the frogs. Oh, he knew they had to go - but not quite yet. Not right now.

So too, there are activities, people, or places in our lives about which the Lord says, “You thought you had that under control, all hemmed in. But now it has hopped its banks and is taking over.”

And we say, “You’re right, Lord. It has. What I’m doing with my computer is out of control. What I’m watching on TV is out of control. What I’m reading, where I’m going, the way I’m living is out of control.” But when the Lord asks us when we want to be set free, all too often our answer is the same as Pharaoh’s: tomorrow.

The problem is, by saying “tomorrow,” Pharaoh’s heart grew harder and harder still. You see, he could have gotten off relatively easy had he been serious and said, “I want the frogs to go right now. I repent of what I’ve been doing. I’m changing my way of life. Moses, you and your people are free to go.” Had he done so, Pharaoh would have spared himself, his family, and his country the unbelievable horrors that awaited them.

The Bible says, “Today if you hear His voice, harden not your hearts” (see Hebrews 4:7) because although there is pleasure in sin for a season, the end result is always destruction (Hebrews 11:25).

I find it amazing that Pharaoh would say, “Tomorrow,” until I analyze my own life and see the same tendency within me. I can hear a truth and say, “That’s right. That’s gotta go. That’s gotta be corrected, adjusted, changed, repented of. And I’m going to get right on it . . . tomorrow.” How I desire to be one who says, “This is the time - right here, right now.”

You who have heard God’s Word, you who have heard His heart, don’t be like Pharaoh and wait for your own heart to harden. Instead, say, “I’m going to go Your way, Lord, not tomorrow, not Tuesday, but today.”

God raised up Pharaoh to show all people throughout history that He is singular, that He is omnipotent, that He is sovereign. And to those who would protest that it was unfair for God to use Pharaoh in such a way, Paul would say, “Who are you to question God? Can the clay say to the potter, ‘Why did you make me thus?’ The potter has the right to do whatever he chooses with the lump of clay. And God has the right to do whatever He wants with us” (see Romans 9:21).

How arrogantly foolish of us to think that we can figure out God. Truly our God is an awesome God. Yes, He’s a loving Father, our Abba, our Papa. But He is also the One who, without any explanation, told His friend to sacrifice his son (Genesis 22:2); He is the One who struck a king with leprosy, a man who served him well, for offering a sacrifice in the Temple (2 Chronicles 26:20). I can’t read my Bible without realizing that my Father is loving and kind, compassionate and tender; but He is also awesome and huge, powerful and “other.” Yes, we rejoice in our Father. Yes, we understand His nature as we look at Jesus. But along with that, we must also understand that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10). We think we have God all figured out. But one can’t read the Scriptures without coming to the conclusion that He doesn’t fit into any box very easily.

Stand in awe of God. Be amazed by His greatness, by His size, by His sovereignty. And then marvel that He’s allowed us to be brought into His family, that He’s made Himself known to us through Jesus personally, that He placed us at a time in history where the Gospel message surrounds us constantly. Sometimes I lift my hands in love and adoration to the Lord. Other times, I fall on my face on my living room floor, speechless in His presence. He raised up Pharaoh simply to show His power. And He stooped to save us to do the same.

God’s intent in baring His arm and raining plagues upon Egypt was not only so the Egyptians would see His power and superiority, but so His own people would know that He is indeed who He claims to be. Then they could pass this knowledge on to their children and grandchildren. They could learn a portion of this lesson by observing God’s dealings with the Egyptians, as the hail fell upon them and the flies tormented them. But the other part of the lesson could only be learned firsthand as they experienced the effects of water turned to blood, of frogs swarming their houses, and of lice covering their bodies.

There’s no “test-imony” without tests. A vibrant, passionate, and authentic walk with the Lord does not come from secondhand theology. It only comes through the things we experience personally.

Moses and Pharaoh had been duking it out, mixing it up, and sparring round after round . . .

Round 1:

After being punched with the plagues of blood, frogs, lice, and flies, Pharaoh said to Moses, “I’ll let you and your people serve the Lord - but you must remain in Egypt” (see 8:25).

“We’ll be stoned if we stay here,” said Moses. And both returned to their corners.

Round 2:

“I’ll let you leave the country - but don’t go very far” (see 8:28).

“We must go where God directs,” said Moses. And both returned to their corners.

Round 3:

Having been struck with boils and hail, Pharaoh said, “You and your men can go as far as you want. But your women and children must stay here” (see 10:11).

“We’re taking our families,” Moses countered. And both returned to their corners.

Round 4:

Following the double punch of locusts and darkness, Pharaoh said, “You and your families can go. But your livestock must stay.”

“No,” said Moses. “We’re going to take our families and flocks. We’re going to take our kids and our cattle. We’re going to take everything.”

Satan seeks to make people compromise in this same way today . . .

“Stay in the world,” he says. “Sure, you might have to bake a brick or two, but at least you’re familiar with the system. Why take a risk on what you can’t see? Why leave the known for the unknown? Why set your sights on a Kingdom that claims to be eternal, but still invisible?”

And when we choose to listen to God instead, Satan changes his tactic, “All right, go ahead and believe in Jesus. But don’t go too far. Don’t get too radical.”

And when we ignore him again, Satan says, “Be radical in your faith if you want. But don’t rope your kids into it. When they’re older, let them make their own decision about whether or not to follow Jesus. Until then, leave them in Egypt where they can play soccer and take ballet lessons.”

And when we decide, like Moses, that we will worship as families, Satan comes up with a final compromise: “Go ahead. Throw in your lot with God. You and your family can even be radical in your faith. But don’t spend money on it. Don’t tithe. Don’t give God His due. Don’t invest in eternity.”

“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” Jesus said (Matthew 6:21). Had Moses left the livelihood of his people in Egypt, their hearts would remained there too. And to the degree that we sink our hearts into the soil of this world, ours remain here as well.

Why was no bone to be broken? I suggest three reasons . . .

Restoration. David - a shepherd by trade and a sheep by nature - speaks of restoration when he writes, “Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice” (Psalm 51:8). You see, in Bible days if a lamb continually placed its life in jeopardy by wandering away, the shepherd would break its legs, set the bones, and carry it on his shoulders for the following six to eight weeks until the bones were healed. During that period, the lamb would develop such a deep affection for the shepherd, that when its legs were healed, it would remain by the shepherd’s side all the days of its life. Jesus, being the sinless Lamb of God, however, had no need to be broken.

Redemption. “Where sin abounds, grace abounds more,” Paul declares (see Romans 5:20). What is the basis of grace? The blood of Calvary. Where is blood produced? In the bone. Therefore, in insisting that not a bone be broken, it’s as though God is saying, “I don’t want any suggestion that there is a limitation to the blood. I want people to understand that where sin abounds, grace always abounds more.”

Reconciliation. To hasten death, soldiers would break the legs of those being crucified. However, when they came to do this to Jesus, they were so surprised that He had died in only six hours that they poked a spear in His side to make sure (John 19:34).

If you are estranged from, or at odds with someone with whom you were once close, the only way there can be reconciliation is if someone dies. Jesus models that for you and me. He died to reconcile us to the Father, but He died quickly. It was not unusual for victims of crucifixion to prolong their lives eighteen hours or more as they hung on the cross. Not Jesus. With the work of reconciliation complete, He released His spirit relatively quickly in order that He might race to Easter, to Resurrection day. That’s the key: the sooner we die, the sooner we’ll be at Easter Sunday.

The only way a donkey could live was if a lamb was slain for it. I like this analogy. Because we know the lamb speaks of Jesus, it’s not too difficult to figure out who the donkey represents.

The donkey is mentioned twenty-five times in the Old Testament, among which are the following:

In Genesis 22, when Abraham took Isaac up to Mount Moriah, a donkey was saddled for them, which speaks of a loss of liberty.

Later in the same chapter, the donkey was to be tied up while Abraham and Isaac ascended the mountain, which speaks of an inability to worship.

As Jacob pronounces blessing on his sons in Genesis 49, he likens Issachar to a donkey that is heavily laden.

In Deuteronomy 22, we read that the ox and donkey were not to plow together, the implication being that the donkey would only slow the ox down.

In 1 Samuel 9, we see Saul trying to locate his father’s donkeys that had wandered away.

Jeremiah 22 speaks of a donkey left for dead and tossed outside the city gates.

Taken together, these references speak of you and me: laden down, tied up, lacking an ability to serve or worship the Lord, lost, left for dead, tossed out - not a very flattering picture. But the final mention of a donkey in the Old Testament is a glorious one indeed . . .

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass. - Zechariah 9:9

A week before He would go to Calvary, Jesus said to His disciples, “Go into the village and you’ll see a donkey. Untie it and bring it to Me. And if anyone asks why you are untying it, tell him the Lord has need of it” (see Matthew 21:2-3).

“I choose a donkey,” Jesus said. “Let Alexander the Great ride on the back of his mighty black stallion. Let the Romans ride their dazzling white horses. I’ll use a donkey.”

Jesus wants to enter your city, your workplace, and your family. And He chooses to use you as a means of getting there.

“How can He use me?” you ask. “I’m nothing but a donkey.”

That’s right. And He loves using donkeys - the foolish things of the world to confound the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27). But before He can use you, you first must be untied and released because you can’t be used if you’re bound up with guilt, sin, and worry. So He sends disciples to untie you, maybe through a Bible study, maybe over the radio, or maybe with a word from the Lord just for you. Before the donkey was ridden, he was released. But before he was released, he had to be redeemed. The donkey would die unless a lamb died in its place. And that’s exactly what the Lamb of God did when He died for us.

When the Israelites left Succoth, they didn’t go to the Land of Promise. They went to Etham, a town on the brink of disaster, a town on the edge of the wilderness. In the Bible, the word “wilderness” does not refer to a land of pine trees, mountain streams, rainbow trout, and wildflowers, but to the bleak, brutal, and blistering desert.

“You brought us to the desert, Lord? There’s nothing but nothing before us,” the Israelites must have cried.

Oh, but the place is called Etham, or literally, “with them.”

“I’m with you,” the Lord declares. “I know it looks like you’re on the brink of disaster, like there’s nothing good ahead. But I’m with you to see you through.”

How can the Lord teach us He is truly with us except to take us to the desert? When everything is fine, we go on our merry way as if His presence in our lives is optional. It’s only when we’re on the brink of disaster that we realize how much we need Him.

When I heard this story in Sunday school, saw it on the flannelgraph board, or watched it in the movies, it seemed to me that the cloud was always in front of the congregation. That is, the Israelites would see the cloud off in the distance and simply follow wherever it lead. But I don’t think this was what really took place. In Psalm 105:39, we read that the cloud wasn’t ahead of the congregation, but above it, covering the congregation.

This means that when God wanted His people to move, He got them to move in a very simple, practical way. With daytime temperatures reaching 125 degrees in the desert, God put a cloud over the entire congregation to shade them. And when He wanted them to move, He would simply move the cloud, knowing His people would move as well, simply to stay in the shade.

And that’s the way the Lord directs us. “My burden is easy, My load is light,” Jesus declared (see Matthew 11:30) - a New Testament principle pictured in the Old Testament priesthood . . .

And it shall come to pass, that when they enter in at the gates of the inner court, they shall be clothed with linen garments; and no wool shall come upon them, whiles they minister in the gates of the inner court, and within. They shall have linen bonnets upon their heads, and shall have linen breeches upon their loins; they shall not gird themselves with any thing that causeth sweat. - Ezekiel 44:17–18

When you want to know what God’s will for you is, first ask yourself, Is it cool, or is it wool? Will it cause inspiration, or perspiration? “Delight thyself also in the LORD,” the psalmist declared, “and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart” (Psalm 37:4). In other words, if you delight in, love, and enjoy the Lord, He will give you that which your heart desires. How can that be? Because He has already written His will on the table of your heart (Jeremiah 31:33). The desire of the heart in fellowship with Him is His desire.

It has been rightly said that there are lots of cheap imitations of priceless masterpieces in the church today. “Look at him. Look at her. Look at them,” we say. “I’m going to be just like him or her or them.” But when we try to imitate or duplicate someone else’s calling or ministry, the best we can be is only a cheap imitation. You are a masterpiece because the Master has pieced you together to do exactly what He intended you to do since before the world began (Ephesians 1:4).

“You are His workmanship,” Paul wrote to the Ephesians (see 2:10). Poiema, the Greek word translated “workmanship,” is the word from which we get our word “poem.” You are God’s poetry. He has created you specifically and uniquely to do that which He knows will satisfy you most completely. Therefore, when you get to Heaven, the Lord is not going to say, “Why weren’t you more like Moses? Why weren’t you more like Abraham? Why weren’t you more like Paul or Billy Graham?” No. He’s going to say, “Why weren’t you more like you? Why weren’t you simply the person I made you to be - My masterpiece, My poetry?”

Don’t strive, dear saint. Don’t sweat, fellow priest. Stay in the shade and be whom the Lord intended you to be - His unique masterpiece, His inimitable poetry.

God boxed His people in between the mountains and the Red Sea as a demonstration of His preeminence. Even more fundamental than our experiencing His power and His presence is the world’s understanding of His sovereignty. “I’m going to put you in this horrible predicament, this tough spot, this brutal place,” He says, “because I want to make Myself known to the Egyptians.”

“I’m stuck in this marriage. I’m stuck with that parent. I’m stuck in a financial crunch,” we cry, failing to understand that sometimes He can touch people who don’t know Him by putting us in uncomfortable, difficult, heartbreaking, and challenging situations.

God doesn’t exist for us. We exist for Him.

So scandalized was the Church that for decades she refused to acknowledge Copernicus’ discovery. After all, how could the sun be the center of the planetary system? Surely the planets revolved around the earth, around man.

And it remains equally shocking today to discover that it is the Son rather than our own worlds, our own concerns, or our own comforts who is at the center of God’s creation. But it is not until we finally understand that we exist for God rather than He for us that the rotation of our worlds, our situations, and our lives makes sense. If the pain doesn’t go away, if the business doesn’t work out, if the marriage isn’t great, God says, “I love you. But it’s not about you. I have a bigger plan. The Egyptians are watching, and when the people you work with see you continue to praise Me, when your neighbors see you worshiping Me, when your family sees you thanking Me, I will be glorified.”

You can fight it until the day you die, or you can finally come to the place in your life where you say, “The Son is the center of everything. Come what may, the Son is the center of my universe.”

And although life might not seem fair right now, it will eventually. The waters will part, and you will be ushered into eternity where you will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant. I had you boxed in. But you stood still. You didn’t fall away. You didn’t turn back. You didn’t walk out. Enter into the joy of the Lord” (see Matthew 25:21).

Perhaps special teams football players have the best grasp of this idea. “Special teams” is suicide. Special teams charge down the field full steam ahead, throwing their bodies directly at men who are also running full steam ahead in their direction. They crack heads. They take hits. They endure pain. Why? So that the one carrying the ball can gain yards.

It’s such a simple concept, but it sometimes takes decades to understand that we’re not the sun, that we’re not the ball carrier, but that we exist for the One who is. And the degree to which we allow Him to do what He wants to do through our lives is the degree to which we will be rewarded immensely, immeasurably, and eternally.

“God is love,” John tells us (1 John 4:8).

“The Lord is a man of war,” Moses says.

Is this a contradiction?

No, because although God is indeed love, there are forces all around us which are anything but lovely or loveable. And God wages war against these forces as surely as He waged war against Pharaoh. That is why when you study the Old Testament, you’ll see violence in virtually every book. And because the Old Testament is a picture book illustrating physically what we’re to do spiritually, we’re to be violent as well (Matthew 11:12).

How?

We’re to do battle violently in prayer against the spiritual forces that seek to deceive, defile, and destroy those around us. Wife, did you do battle in prayer for your husband today? Did you pray passionately that the forces of the Enemy would not gain a toehold in his life? Dad, did you do what Job did, who energetically sacrificed for each of his children before the break of day lest they sin against the Lord? (Job 1:5). Did you pray earnestly lest they fall prey to the Enemy who seeks to derail and destroy them spiritually?

“The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much,” James tells us (5:16). Praying, “Lord, help everyone to be nice,” is neither effective nor fervent, and it doesn’t make much of an impact. God is a man of war, but He’s a gentleman nonetheless, and therefore, won’t force His way into any situation. He will wait for an invitation (Revelation 3:20). The question is, are we actively, fervently, and passionately opening the door to Him and bidding Him to come in?

As good as this song is, how much better it would have been had it been sung before the Red Sea parted, had it been sung by the children of Israel before they were rescued.

To you who are boxed in, with your back to the Red Sea, this is your moment; now is your opportunity for greatness. You see, once the Red Sea parts - once the financial crisis is over, the relationship is restored, the disease is healed - you will no longer have before you the opportunity for greatness. Then you can be grateful, but only now can you be great.

When the hour was dark, when nothing was externally right, there in the middle of a black, bleak night, what did Paul and Silas do? They sang songs of praise. And so intriguing was this to their fellow prisoners that when an earthquake caused the prison doors to open, they chose to stay in the dungeon with Paul and Silas rather than to flee, to remain imprisoned physically in order that their souls might be set free (Acts 16).

So too, you who are in a dungeon financially, relationally, or physiologically have a unique opportunity to show us greatness. And once this experience is over, you’ll never have the same opportunity again.

“I want to be like David,” we say. “I’d like to grab some stones and nail Goliath.” You can. There’s a huge giant before you, a giant headache, a giant heartache, a giant problem. Are you going to be like Saul and his men, murmuring and complaining, depressed and discouraged? Or are you going to praise the Lord in the face of the giant who seems to stomp up and down the valley of your life day after day? Ninety-nine percent of people will choose to be like Saul. This is your chance, however, to be a David.

The difficulties in the lives of any great man or woman in Scripture weren’t pleasant, weren’t easy. We know how their stories end - Joshua, Deborah, Gideon, Jeremiah, David, and Paul - but when they were living out their stories, their trials were every bit as brutal as your situation. Yet, they chose by God’s grace to be great, to be heroic. And we are the richer for it.

When there’s an ugly giant before you, or prison bars all around you, it’s your chance to be great. Don’t miss it, because, although opportunities for greatness come to everyone, they usually only come once or twice in a lifetime. Will your story be one of mediocrity, or one of greatness? It all depends on what you do this side of the Red Sea.

Feeling as though death were breathing down upon them, the Israelites’ need for water was immediate and great, when suddenly the report must have filtered through the congregation that water lay ahead. I can see in my mind’s eye the people stampeding in the direction of the report, finding a pool, and diving in, only to come up sputtering and spitting out bitter water.

The same thing happens to us. We come to our own Marah - a situation, a relationship, an occupation, or even a ministry we think will be cool and refreshing - only to find it bitter, not what we thought it would be. Why did the Lord choose Marah as a stop for His people? I believe it was to teach them three lessons, the first being that life is a mixture of sweetness and bitterness - for were it only sweet, we would have no desire for Heaven.

I believe a second lesson God wanted to teach His people at Marah was that trials are the X-rays that allow us to see what’s going on in our hearts. You see, although the children of Israel murmured against Moses, in reality, they were murmuring against God for bringing them to Marah in the first place. And the same is true of us. I will never know what’s in my heart until I dive into a pool expectantly and find it isn’t what I thought it would be. People do not make us bitter. Situations do not make us bitter. They simply show us what is already within. I know this because, when I look at Jesus, I see that, although He was spat upon, cursed at, and nailed to a Cross, He said, “Father forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing” (see Luke 23:34). No bitterness came out of Him because there was no bitterness within Him.

Third, notice that God didn’t create this tree on the spot; it was there all along. The tree in Scripture is emblematic of the Cross (1 Peter 2:24; Galatians 3), and it is the Cross of Calvary that still transforms bitter experiences, bitter people, and bitter circumstances. How? By realizing that the wrongs done to us, the offenses against us, and the disappointments registered by us have all been paid for, dealt with, and washed clean by the blood of Calvary.

Following their time at Marah, God led the children of Israel to Elim, or “mighty ones.” With twelve wells of water and seventy palm trees, God had led them to a wonderful oasis indeed. I’m so glad that the Lord not only takes us to the bitter water of Marah, but to the cool wells of Elim! It’s interesting to note that the palm tree is the only tree in the world which bears more fruit as it gets older. Another fascinating reminder is that there were twelve disciples and seventy more later whom Jesus sent out to minister. I believe this little vignette is the Holy Spirit’s way of saying that the only place we will find true refreshment is when we are “mighty ones” in ministry.

“Whatever measure you give out will be the measure you’ll get back,” Jesus told us (see Luke 6:38). At Elim, there’s no murmuring, nothing negative, nothing but refreshment in the place of service. Today, serve someone and bless someone, share your faith, intercede for someone, and be blessed and refreshed yourself in the process.

It was in the wilderness that God gave manna to His people. And it is in our wilderness here on earth that He daily provides the Bread of His Word, the Bread of Himself. If I don’t feast on the Scriptures daily, I become disillusioned, disoriented, and confused. I get mixed up on days when I don’t get away with the Lord in a quiet spot at a quiet time and enjoy the truths and promises of His Word. I think about fleshpots and the bread of Egypt; I become restless and troubled. But when I take in the Word, I find what Jeremiah said to be oh, so true. I find it to be the very joy and rejoicing of my heart (Jeremiah 15:16).

So too, like manna, Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, came to this wilderness - to murmurers, sinners, and complainers - and dwelt among us (John 1:14). God didn’t wait for the children of Israel in the Promised Land. He joined them in the wilderness. And He does the same for us. You don’t have to climb a mountain or clean up your act to find Him. You don’t have to ascend into Heaven or descend into the depths of hell and depression. He’s already as close as the word in your mouth, as close as your confession (Romans 10:8–10).

It was hunger that inevitably drove the Prodigal Son home (Luke 15:17). And it is hunger - a hole in your heart, a longing in your soul - that will drive you home as well. All you must do is humble yourself, bow your knee, and stoop to pick up the manna of the Word, the manna of the Son, which God has provided so lavishly and lovingly, so freely and faithfully.

Massah and Meribah mean “temptation” and “chiding.” It was hot. The people were thirsty. And God said to Moses, “Here’s what to do: Take the rod which had become a snake before Pharaoh, smite the rock, and out will come water.” Paul gives the interpretation of this account in 1 Corinthians 10:4, where he tells us the Rock was Jesus Christ. This means that Jesus, the Rock of our salvation, was smitten by the “serpent” of Moses’ rod - perfectly portraying the prophecy given in the garden of Eden when God said to Satan, “You shall bruise His heel, but He will crush your head” (see Genesis 3:15). Was the heel of Jesus bruised? Yes. A spike was driven through it on the Cross of Calvary. But Satan was crushed, for the power he held over us was obliterated, washed away by the blood Jesus shed that day. What happened when Jesus was pierced with the spear? Blood and water flowed from His side (John 19:34). So too, here at Rephidim, the rock, smitten by the rod that was once a serpent, pours forth water. The analogy is perfect. This passage points to Jesus.

Why would God lead His people from a place where they were being satisfied with manna to a rest stop where the drinking fountain was out of order? You might leave a Bible study or a retreat where you’ve been feasting on the manna of the Word only to find yourself in a place of dryness. “I don’t understand,” you say. “I was doing so well, but now there is a drought in my soul. Why am I so dry? Is there sin in my life?” Not necessarily. God led His people to Rephidim in order to do something very important. You see, after they ate of the manna, to make them aware of their need for a fresh drenching of water, God brought them to Rephidim to create in them a thirst for more of Him. Why would He do this? Because He knew what was about to happen.

You see, every time the Amalekites are mentioned in the Bible, they portray the ongoing war we wage with our flesh. It’s as if God says, “I know you feasted on the bread. You’ve taken in the manna. But right around the bend, right up ahead, war is about to break out. And if you try to defeat Amalek in your own strength, you’ll be trounced.” Therefore, He took His people - as He does us - to a place where they were aware of their dryness in order that, after crying out to Him, they would be empowered afresh with the water of His Spirit.

If you are going through a desert season, God has led you there. For what purpose? To create within you a craving for more of Him. “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness,” Jesus said, “for they shall be filled” (Matthew 5:6). Who is filled? The one who hungers. The one who thirsts. The one who’s at Rephidim, longing for water.

In the middle of the battle, were Joshua to look over his shoulder, he would have seen three men on a hill - the one in the middle holding a wooden rod. This makes us think of another Man on a hill, flanked by two others, arms outstretched, not holding a wooden rod, but pinned to a wooden beam. But His arms didn’t sag; His soul didn’t sag; His spirit didn’t sag. No, Jesus our Savior hung in there for you and me. And the Man in the middle not only bled and died for me, but He rose again and ascended into Heaven, where He lives to make intercession for me (Hebrews 7:25). Aaron might get busy sometimes. Hur might not always be available. But Jesus ever lives to make intercession for me. He lives to pray for me. Amazing.

“If that’s the case,” you say, “then why should we pray at all? Why not just let Him do the heavy lifting?” Because, although the victory is won, there are still mop-up operations going on. Do you want to be fruitful, successful, and blessed in the daily skirmishes of life? Do you want to see your kids do well, the Church blessed, and the country changed? Jesus won the victory completely at Calvary. All the rest is mop-up stuff. And we have the privilege of taking part. “Seek Me,” the Lord says. “Talk to Me. Call on Me with uplifted hands. And watch and see what I will do as you open the door for Me to work.”

When the battle was finally won, God instructed Moses to record what had transpired in a book - in order that future generations would know that the battle was won not with the sword in the valley of interaction, but through prayer on the mount of intercession.

Oftentimes, we think that if we were more skilled with the sword of Scripture, if we were better able to dialogue and counsel, if we could love more and do more, we’d see the salvation of our parents or grandchildren, our neighbors or friends. But this story tells us that is not where the battle is won. The battle is won through prayer.

Why is prayer so important? Because the old adage that prayer changes things is only partly true. I think it’s more accurate to say, “Faith changes things. Prayer changes me.”

Yes, God wanted the children of Israel to win the battle. But He also wanted to win the heart of Moses in a deeper way. And He wants to do the same with us. We may think that our situations need to change. God, however, knows that even if they did, we’d still be unhappy, sleepwalking through life unless our hearts were changed. Therefore He says, “Because I want to fill your heart, inflame your soul, and satisfy that ache within you which can be satisfied only by Me, you’re going to have to come to Me time after time because when you do, you’ll get to know Me in the process. And when you get to know Me, it is only then that you will be content and fulfilled, blessed and happy.”

“Behold, I stand at the door, and knock,” Jesus said. “If any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come into him, and sup with him, and he with Me.” Addressed to the Church, Revelation 3:20 tells us Jesus knocks at the door of the Church, of the heart of believers. Therefore, when we pray, we are acting as doormen, opening the door and inviting Him in. He doesn’t beat the door down. He doesn’t bust His way in. He doesn’t force His presence or force the issue. But whoever hears the knocking and is wise enough to open the door in prayer will enjoy His presence and company.

By praying, I open the door. That doesn’t mean Jesus is obligated to do what I ask or desire. That’s up to Him. I have learned, however, that if He doesn’t do what I suggest, He’ll do something infinitely better. But if I don’t open the door, if I don’t pray, I’m left on my own with my kids, my marriage, and my ministry - not a good place to be. “You have not because you ask not,” James tells us (see 4:2). It’s all about prayer.

With eagles soaring over their heads and eagles’ nests perched on the ledges of the Sinai mountain range, this image would be very clear to the children of Israel.

As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings: So the LORD alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him. - Deuteronomy 32:11–12

After selecting a site on a high precipice, the mother eagle builds her nest. And as her newly-hatched eaglet grows, he’s comfy and cozy, until one day the mother eagle overturns the nest and the young eagle is sent tumbling downward, squawking all the way. Just before he hits the rocks below, however, the mother eagle swoops down and rescues him, bearing him upon her wings. She returns him to the nest, only to overturn it a few days later and bear him on her wings yet again. This process is repeated six or seven times, until one time, the eaglet catches a thermal and starts flying. Higher and higher he goes, set free to experience life in an entirely different dimension with a higher perspective than he ever had previously.

Because faith cannot grow in comfort and security, we’ll all be knocked out of our nests of cozy complacency from time to time. What do we do at such times? “They that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength,” Isaiah declares. “They shall mount up with wings as eagles” (40:31). To wait upon the Lord doesn’t mean to passively wait, but to wait on Him as a skilled waiter would wait on the guest of honor. To wait upon the Lord means to lavish praise, to minister, to fellowship day by day, moment by moment. And those who do, mount up with wings as eagles.

Not only were the people to wash their clothes, but they were to watch their step. They were to stay away from the mountain, for if they got too close to God’s “pulpit,” they would die.

“That doesn’t sound very loving,” you might say.

Oh, but any dad who has wrestled with his two-year-old knows that it is.

Dad, when you wrestle with your toddler, you want contact with your kids, but you place limits on yourself because otherwise they’d be wiped out. The same is true of God. His beauty, His glory, His splendor, majesty, and holiness would be so powerful that were the children of Israel to get too close to Him, their hearts would simply stop beating from awe.

So often we trivialize God. Yes, through the person of Jesus Christ, He is our friend, but His grandeur and glory remain undiminished. Therefore, the fear of the Lord - the fear of doing anything that would grieve Him - should cause us to fall at His feet in speechless humility.

God doesn’t say, “I am the Lord God.” He says, “I am the LORD thy God,” as if to say, “I made you; I created you; I know what will make you happy.” Thus, because of the incredible tenderness embedded in the little word “thy,” the Ten Commandments could be called the “Ten-der” Commandments.

For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. - 1 John 5:3

John doesn’t say we’ll earn God’s love by keeping His commandments. No, he says keeping His commandments is the love of God.

“I’m not experiencing God’s love,” you say.

Are you keeping His commandments?

“I don’t have to. I’m under grace.”

Yes, you are. But you’ll experience God’s love when you keep His commandments because He alone knows how you are made and how you tick, and His commandments constitute His personal instruction book for you, straight from your Manufacturer.

And his commandments are not grievous. - 1 John 5:3

God’s commandments are not grievous because rules provide liberty.

There is a rule I keep every single day. That is, in the morning - every morning - I brush my teeth. You might call this legalism. But I find it to be exceedingly refreshing. Not only that, it also releases me from philosophical questioning. I never once ask, “To brush, or not to brush? Do I have time? Is this the right day? Does brushing apply to me?” I could waste a great deal of energy debating and wondering if I should brush my teeth, but because brushing my teeth is a non-negotiable rule for me, I am released from all kinds of mental turmoil. And not only does brushing my teeth refresh and release me, but it relieves those around me. Thus, it’s a win-win situation. The same is true of God’s law. It provides an opportunity to experience His love personally and to express my love practically.

In this simple phrase, we see a premise and a promise. The premise is that there are indeed other gods . . .

Baal was the god who supposedly hurled lightning down from heaven (1 Kings 18:24). Baal was the god of power. Munching on power bars, listening to power tapes, thinking they’re powerful and in control, lots of people still unknowingly worship Baal today.

Ashtoreth was the goddess of sensuality, of pleasure, a goddess worshiped extensively in our society by those with the “if it feels good, do it” mentality.

Mammon was the god of money, the god of prosperity. Because it is the love of money, rather than money itself, which is evil (1 Timothy 6:10), it is not only the wealthy who are prone to worship mammon. Anyone who places a priority on money, worries about money, or strives for money is vulnerable.

Molech was the god of practicality. To earn Molech’s blessing upon his new business, the Molech worshiper would place his firstborn in an earthen jar and build the walls of his shop around it, believing that the baby entombed within the wall wasn’t really dead, but would reappear in his next child. Many a parent does virtually the same thing today when, in the name of practicality, they ignore their children in the name of advancing their careers, mistakenly thinking that once their business is successful and their place in the company is secure that they can re-connect with their kids. The problem, however, is that kids grow up, time is lost, and opportunity dies on the altar of practicality.

In addition to the premise that there are indeed other gods, this first commandment carries a promise that other gods will not pull on God’s people indefinitely.

Having captured the Ark of the Covenant - the gold-covered box which held the Ten Commandments - the Philistines placed it in the temple of their god, Dagon, a being which was half man and half fish. The next day, when the priests of Dagon went into the temple, they found Dagon knocked down before the Ark. The priests returned Dagon to his original position, only to come in the following day to find him on the floor once again, his head and hands severed from the fall (1 Samuel 5).

The same thing happens today. “Let Me into the temple of your heart,” God says, “and I’ll knock Dagon down; I’ll knock Baal out. I’ll take care of Mammon. I’ll deal with Ashtoreth.”

The Ten Commandments are the only law of antiquity that forbids the worship of other gods. All other codes and cultures allowed and even encouraged the worship of other deities. Why? Because all other gods work as a team to bring hell into peoples’ lives and to damn them eternally. There will be no other gods before the true and living God because those gods will not come through ultimately. In the last day, every knee shall bow, every tongue will confess that Jesus alone is Lord (Philippians 2:10–11). And what a day that will be!

To understand what God must look like, man has looked to nature for clues.

Looking to the sky, the Native American saw the eagle soaring majestically overhead and decided God must be an eagle.

Looking at the grassy plain, the Indian saw the powerful yet peaceful cow and decided God must be a cow.

Looking down to the sea, the Pacific Islander saw the massive sea turtle with its impenetrable shell and decided God must be a sea turtle.

Although we know better than this, we as believers can fall prey to the same tendency. You see, there are those who say, “When I get to Heaven, I’m going to sit on God’s lap and feel His embrace.” While I understand their sentiment, the image is faulty, for in the book of Revelation, God is not described as having a long white beard, flowing hair, bulging biceps, and muscular calves, reaching out His finger to touch man as Michelangelo portrayed Him in the Sistine Chapel. He’s described primarily by color - the flame of His eyes; the red of His garment (Revelation 19). Jesus simply said, “God is Spirit” (see John 4:24). Therefore, I don’t believe we’re going to see the Father as having arms, hands, and legs.

“But doesn’t Scripture say He spans the universe with His hand?” you ask (Isaiah 40:12).

Yes, but it also says He covers us with His wings (Psalm 91:4). Therefore, I believe it is as much a mistake to think that God the Father has two eyes, a nose, and two ears, as it is to think He has wings or feathers.

God cannot be contained by a body, no matter how great. He’s Spirit. He’s everywhere. When we get to Heaven, with our new bodies, we’ll be able to bask in His glory, just as the high priest did in the Holy of Holies on the Day of Atonement. But I don’t believe we will “sit on His lap,” as we would with our earthly fathers. God is everywhere, all around us. The Holy Spirit dwells within us. Jesus relates to us.

Christianity is not about making an image of God, no matter how noble or grand. It’s about looking at Jesus, and allowing Him to conform us into His image.

Because virtually everyone would agree that societies and families work best when there is no murder, stealing, or lying, people have an easy time understanding the commandments that prohibit those activities. But in the minds of most people, the third commandment is a different story. After all, they reason, everyone takes the Lord’s name in vain occasionally. God, however, does not agree. And to underscore this, although He prohibited stealing, coveting, killing, lying, and committing adultery with a simple “Thou shalt not,” He amplified the prohibition to take His name in vain as if to say “This is exceptionally serious.”

Why?

I suggest two reasons . . .

First, when the Lord’s name is used in vain, in a manner devoid of meaning, the result is desensitization. This commandment is not about God being offended, but about people being lost, desensitized to the reality of the name that will save them and the reality of where they will spend eternity if they don’t receive Him.

In addition to desensitization, when the Lord’s name is taken in vain, there are real ramifications. The man who accidentally hits his thumb while pounding a nail and says blasphemously, “God damn it,” is actually saying, “God, doom this project I am working on.” And because life and death are indeed in the power of the tongue (Proverbs 18:21), his words, in one way or another, will have a negative impact on the task he is engaged in. Rather dumb!

Mock Buddha and you’ll hear from the ACLU. Make fun of an Indian religion and you’ll be politically incorrect. But use the name of Jesus Christ in any manner whatsoever and no one will even raise an eyebrow. While we may not be able to keep this from happening outside of our homes, we can use it as an opportunity to talk about Jesus to the one who uses His name blasphemously. And in sharing His reality, we can turn the situation around for His glory.

Having worked four hundred years as slaves in Egypt, the concept of a day off would have sounded radical indeed to the children of Israel. And not to them only, but to the surrounding civilizations as well, for no other society of antiquity entertained the idea of a Sabbath day - a day of rest.

With the Assyrians bearing down on them, the children of Israel set up an alliance with the Egyptians, failing to realize that it was only in God that their help would be found. Ever feel like financial, relational, or physical problems are waging war against you? Ever feel like you can’t get ahead or even catch up? Listen to what God says . . .

For thus saith the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel; In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength: and ye would not. And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left. - Isaiah 30:15, 21

The bills are mounting; the pressures are building; the Assyrians are coming. What am I to do? It’s only in returning to God and resting in Him that I’ll know. If I consistently take one day of every seven and say, “This is Yours, Lord,” I am saying, “Lord, I acknowledge that what I have and enjoy is not because of my work ethic, my creativity, my business acumen, my energy. It’s all from You. And I’m going to prove that to myself and to my family by stopping one day in seven. In so doing, I am acknowledging that You are the giver of every good gift, the provider of the bread I enjoy, that You are the One who truly holds my life together.”

If I keep the Sabbath, I’ll know which way to go as I hear a voice in my ear telling me how to walk. I’ll experience a fullness in my heart, a richness in my soul. And so will you.

The fifth commandment is unique indeed, for, as Paul reminds us, it is the only one with a promise attached to it (Ephesians 6:1–3). As evidenced by the fact that many saints die at a young age, while many sinners seem to live indefinitely, the long days promised to those who keep this commandment refer not necessarily to quantity but to quality - to a life full of rich and meaningful days. Living until the age of 930, the first Adam lived thirty times longer than the last Adam, Jesus Christ, who died at the age of thirty-three. Yet no one would argue that the last Adam honored his Heavenly Father thirty times more than did the first Adam, for Jesus honored His Father perfectly. And the way He related to His Heavenly Father provides a picture, a pattern, and an example for how I am to relate to my earthly mother and father . . .

Jesus was a reflection of His Father (John 5:19). So too, because you are a reflection of your parents, if you’re down on them, you’ll be down on yourself. Therefore, the way to be well emotionally and relationally is to honor your father and mother.

Jesus was dependent upon His Father (John 5:26). So too, we are dependent upon our earthly parents. Given the fact that the chemical components that comprise our bodies are the same as those of a slug, we should be eternally grateful we were born as humans rather than slugs. Therefore, if there’s no other reason to honor them, we should honor them because they gave us life, sustained our lives, and saved our lives probably many more times than we could even imagine.

Jesus was submitted to His Father (John 5:30). The two key qualities that will bring fulfillment and success to anyone’s life are those of humility and submission. And those qualities are born only in the context of family. You see, if I don’t like my job, I can quit; if I don’t like my friends, I can avoid them; if I don’t like my neighbors, I can move; if I don’t like my school, I can drop out. But my relationship to my parents is the one relationship I can’t change. And it is precisely when I don’t agree with them or understand them that submission and humility are worked into my soul. At the peak of His maturity, Jesus said, “I am in submission to My Father.” And so must I be.

There are two Greek words translated “anger” in the New Testament. The first is thumos, and refers to the anger one feels that causes his veins to bulge and his face to get red. The word used in Matthew 5:22, however, is orgizo, a word that refers to the anger that smolders internally day after week after month after year. Jesus said the person who harbors this kind of anger without a cause is a murderer.

“Oh, but I have a cause. I have a reason to be angry,” you say.

Do you?

In Matthew 18, we read the story of the master who forgave his slave’s debt of ten million dollars only to discover that the slave threatened to kill a fellow slave over a debt of two thousand dollars. In telling this story, Jesus’ point was that as real as the two thousand dollar debt was, it was nothing in comparison to the debt of which he had been forgiven. In other words, if all of our mixed motives, evil intentions, and sinful imaginations were brought to light, we would see that we owe a debt far greater than any owed to us, that we are worse than the worst offense committed against us.

Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift. Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing. - Matthew 5:23–26

The only way to keep from murdering others is to be reconciled. And the only way to be reconciled is to agree with your enemy. Even if his facts are wrong, you’re a bigger sinner than he can even imagine. So you are to go to him and say, “I’m wrong. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” If you don’t, you’ll end up in court. What court? The court that exists in your mind. You practice law daily. You gather new witnesses and new evidence systematically. You build an airtight case, and every time court convenes, you win. The other guy never wins. Consequently, your relationships dwindle and your life grows smaller. Families divide. Hell breaks out. And although you may be technically, judicially, or legally right, you’re oh, so wrong when you fail to reconcile with your adversary.

I know this because Jesus absorbed the blame for us totally. On the Cross, He absorbed the full punishment for our sin, paid the entire price for you and me. Even on the Cross, He said, “Father forgive them.” And as a result, Jesus is free from the chains of death and the grave, just as you will be if you choose to absorb the blame wholly, completely, and unconditionally.

Because the seventh commandment is the least understood, it is the most argued.

But whoso committeth adultery with a woman lacketh understanding: he that doeth it destroyeth his own soul. - Proverbs 6:32

The world thinks sex is about procreation and recreation, failing to understand that it’s primarily about unification, about two souls being mystically and miraculously merged into one. The issue is not unwanted pregnancy, disease, or AIDS. God says the issue of intimacy is the soul. That is why, after presiding over the first marriage ceremony, He looked at the couple and called their name Adam, singularly (Genesis 5:2). Sex outside of marriage destroys one’s soul irreparably, inevitably. Every time people are involved in sexual activity outside of marriage, there will be destruction as the soul is destroyed a piece, a layer, a step at a time. That is why Jesus was so emphatic when He dealt with the subject of adultery (Matthew 5:27–30). Knowing its danger, He told us to deal with it radically, brutally, and severely - to do whatever it takes to keep it from our lives.

If there was a sign that read:

Please proceed with great caution because behind these doors there are experiments taking place with chemical components which may be used one day to cause an explosive reaction at some future point.

I’d probably ignore it.

But if the sign said:

Danger! Explosives!

I would stay away.

“Thou shalt not commit adultery.” If you want to read the fine print, you can explore the Scriptures and find the reason why. But here, it is as if God is simply, clearly, and undeniably saying, “Take My Word for it: Adultery is explosive. It is dangerous. It will destroy you.”

Although the eighth commandment is straightforward and simple, it is even more so in Hebrew, where it reads simply, “Steal not.” As a society, we know that stealing is wrong, so we teach our kids from the earliest age not to take what isn’t theirs. And yet, according to the IRS, if no one cheated on his taxes, our national debt would be retired in one year. But make no mistake, stealing is not limited to money or material goods. We can rob our employers through two-hour lunches or leaving early from work.

Following are four prescriptions for the epidemic of thievery that pervades our culture . . .

“Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good” (Ephesians 4:28). We are to work with our hands. When man fell in the garden of Eden, God told Adam that he was to work by the sweat of his brow. This wasn’t punishment but protection, for in his sinful state, man needed to work or else he would be vulnerable to stealing, taking shortcuts, or cheating. One of the greatest ways to be free from thievery is to work hard. Why? If you’re not working hard, you’re a candidate for depression. You’ll be down on yourself, disillusioned with yourself, and sad about your situation. I believe depression can be linked to people who no longer work hard.

Jesus said if someone compels you to go a mile, go two (Matthew 5:41). Go twice as far, twice as hard as your boss expects. Satan will tell you that you deserve a break, but Jesus tells us to go twice as far because, His burden being easy, His load light, He knows it’s for our benefit.

“. . . that he may have to give to him that needeth” (Ephesians 4:28). We are to reach out our hands. If we’re going the second mile, working harder than others, we’ll inevitably experience a certain degree of success, not to accumulate more for ourselves, but to reach out our hands and give to others. In so doing, a dynamic takes place that leads to joy and liberty, happiness and freedom.

“Will a man rob God? Yet ye have robbed Me. But ye say, Wherein have we robbed Thee? In tithes and offerings” (Malachi 3:8). We are to open up our hands. God indicted His people of robbery when they failed to tithe. The whole earth is the Lord’s (Psalm 24:1), and we acknowledge that fact by tithing. He who robs God also robs everyone around him in sneaky, subtle ways.

“He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?” (Romans 8:32). We are to look at His hands. The holes in Jesus’ hands tell me that God loves me, that He cares about me, that He’ll do what’s best for me, which obliterates the need for thievery. I look at His hands, and in them I rest.

By working with your hands, reaching out your hands, opening your hands, and looking at His hands, you’ll not only keep the eighth commandment, but you’ll find deep fulfillment.

The biblical viewpoint of bearing false witness is not confined to the telling of bold-faced lies, but also includes being tricky with the truth. In the one account where the phrase “false witness” is used in Scripture, we see individuals falsely accusing Jesus of threatening to destroy the Temple when, in fact, He was speaking of His own death (Matthew 26:59–61).

Because he is the Father of Lies, Satan is the ultimate false witness, accusing us day and night before God’s throne as he points out our failings, our shortcomings, and our sins (Revelation 12:10). Jesus, on the other hand, is the Faithful and True Witness (Revelation 3:14), our Advocate, our defense lawyer.

Are you a true witness or a false witness? If the person sitting next to you is a believer, he or she is righteously robed, Heaven-bound, Spirit-filled, positionally pure. Speaking anything less of them is bearing false witness. Oh, you might give the right information, but in so doing, do you convey the wrong implication? You might say lots of nice things about them, but do you add a “but, . . .” a “however, . . .” an “I don’t know if I should share this, but . . .”? If so, you’re a false witness because, although you might be telling the truth, you’re not telling the whole truth. You’re failing to factor in God’s estimation of them.

If you’re prone to bearing false witness, consider the following remedies:

Say less, for as Solomon so insightfully declared, “In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin: but he that refraineth his lips is wise” (Proverbs 10:19).

Pray more. “Remove from me the way of lying,” David prayed (Psalm 119:29).

Think again. Before you say anything about anyone else, THINK:

T: Is what you are about to say the whole Truth?

H: Is it Helpful? Will people be edified?

I: Is it Inspirational? Will God be praised as a result?

N: Is it Necessary?

K: Is it Kind?

The best way to keep from bearing false witness is to simply say less, pray more, and think again.

Of all the commandments, the last one is probably taken the least seriously. If a person breaks the sixth commandment, he might be executed. If he breaks the eighth, he might end up in jail. If he breaks the ninth, he might be sued. But if he breaks the tenth commandment, not only is he forgiven, but applauded, for coveting is a key component of our culture.

Essentially, to covet is simply to want more than one possesses. Our economy is based upon this. Society screams at us that the way to have real life is to have this car or that toy. But the Giver of Life, the Author of Life, the One who declared, “I am the Life,” said, “That’s not true. A man’s life does not consist of the stuff he has materially.” And to illustrate His point, He went on to give a parable of a man who had so many material goods that it was necessary for him to construct bigger barns to hold it all. Although the financial planners would consider him wise, and his culture might consider him blessed, God considered him a fool for failing to lay up treasure in the only place that matters: Heaven (Luke 12:20).

If God blesses you materially, wonderful! God gives us richly all things to enjoy (1 Timothy 6:17). I find it interesting that in Jesus’ parable, the rich man was planning to enjoy his wealth in the future (Luke 12:19). In other words, up to that point, he never truly enjoyed what he had. And such is all too often the case. The man living for things, wanting more things, focused on things will never, ever be satisfied; he will always think he needs just a few more things to make him happy.

The solution? Not only are we to enjoy material blessings, but we are to employ them, not to make more money for ourselves, but to help others, to extend the Gospel to others.

Abraham, a wealthy man of Ur, left his comfortable life behind to seek a city whose builder and maker was God (Hebrews 11:10). He saw the big picture. He saw the Kingdom. And so must we.

So powerful was God’s power and potency, His glory and grandeur that the people said, “You speak to us, Moses, because if God speaks to us, we’ll die.” And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

The Word of God is powerful, sharper than any two-edged sword. It pierces. It divides. It kills our pride, our self-centeredness, and our flesh (Hebrews 4:12). And because it does, the person who wants to pamper his flesh, the person caught up in the sins of the flesh will often be one who doesn’t want to hear from God anymore. If I choose to indulge my flesh day after day, week after week, I won’t be at Bible study six months down the road.

If you’re at a place where lately it’s been hard to get into the Word, I have great news for you: God wants to do something special in you. Satan sees what God desires to do and is trying to keep you from that blessing. It’s a big one, a great one. So pick up the Word, let God speak, and discover the blessings in store.

“I’ve gone to Bible study for six weeks,” some say, “and I’m still depressed, still defeated.” Or, “I’ve been praying for three months, and my situation still hasn’t changed.”

The Lord, however, says, “I’ll not drive out your enemies as quickly as you might think because there’s something else in play. If I drove them out in one year, the wild beasts would multiply. Therefore, until you’re increased, until you’re ready to occupy the land, I’m keeping them there in order to keep the fields tilled and the wild beasts at bay.”

This is hard for me because patience doesn’t come easy. I like things to happen immediately. But that’s not the way God works. “Count it all joy,” He says, “when you go through trials, in order that patience might have her perfect work” (see James 1:2–4). I want to get ahead of God, but He says, “If the project was completed, if the answer was given on your schedule, you wouldn’t be ready for it. My timing is perfect - any earlier, and it would be disastrous. In the meantime, you’ll be increased by talking the situation over with Me, by waiting on Me, and by spending time with Me.”

“I want this kind of ministry,” we say, or “that kind of girl to marry,” or “this type of family.”

“Great!” the Lord says. “But I’ve got a lot of work to do to make you the kind of person who can handle that responsibility. It’s not going to happen quickly. Little by little, I’ll drive out the obstacles. In the meantime, stay close to Me.”

“Draw nigh to Me and I will draw nigh to you,” God says to us (see James 4:8). Yet to this group, God says, “Come and worship ye afar off.” They were told to worship even though they were to worship from afar. I know that because of the work of Christ on the Cross, I can come boldly unto the throne of grace. I can draw nigh to God. I can call Him Abba, or Papa. But the fact is, sometimes I don’t feel that way emotionally. I feel like I’m worshiping Him from afar. Ever feel that way? Take heart. I have learned that it’s okay because God is worthy of worship whether I am emotionally engaged or not.

Worship is not about how I feel. It’s all about who God is. And He is worthy to receive glory and honor and power, for He has created all things and for His pleasure they are and were created - whether we feel this or not (Revelation 4:11).

The Testimony is the Ten Commandments, the two tables of stone written by the finger of God (Exodus 31:18).

“Come boldly before the throne of grace and find mercy and grace to help in time of need,” God says to us (see Hebrews 4:16).

“But I can’t,” we say. “I haven’t prayed in days. I haven’t been to church in weeks. I haven’t witnessed in months. I haven’t kept the commandments.”

Where were the commandments kept?

In the Ark.

Who kept the commandments?

Jesus. “I do always those things that please [the Father],” He said (John 8:29).

Jesus kept the commandments perfectly. And as believers, we are in Him positionally (2 Corinthians 5:17). Therefore, the Father looks at us and doesn’t see our sin. He looks at us and sees His Son (Romans 3:22).

Most Christians try to meet God at the Ark by keeping the commandments, by going to this meeting, by doing those things, by not sinning, by living purely. God, however, says He’ll meet us not at the Ark, but at that which covers it - the mercy seat.

How do we walk with the Lord practically? Not by anything we do, how long our devotions are, how many chapters of the Bible we’ve read, how many prayers we offer, but simply and solely by the unmerited, undeserved, unearned favor of God. This is where so many people miss it. Although they know they’re saved by grace, they think they’re sanctified through works. Big mistake. A true relationship with God is not about witnessing, ministry, or devotional life. It’s all about what He did in and through Christ.

On that first Easter Sunday morning, had you looked into the empty tomb, you would have seen two angels sitting, one at the head and one at the foot of the blood-stained slab where the body of Jesus had lain (John 20:12). Leviticus 16:14 tells us that the mercy seat would be sprinkled with blood. Thus, the mercy seat paints a perfect picture of the only way we can have fellowship with God, that being through the finished work of the Son.

It was at the mercy seat that God would meet with man. And we err greatly whenever we forget this . . .

After capturing the Ark, the Philistines eventually put it in the temple of their god Dagon, only to find Dagon face down before it the following day. Setting Dagon aright, they returned the next day to find him toppled over once again, this time with his head and hands severed (1 Samuel 5). While it would seem obvious that they needed a more powerful god to protect them, they instead decided to protect their god by sending the Ark back to Israel. Seeing the Ark on its way back to their border, the people of God were understandably excited. But their excitement soon turned to terror when God smote 50,070 of their number when they looked inside the ark, perhaps for no other reason than to see if the commandments were still inside (1 Samuel 6).

“I will meet you at the mercy seat,” God says. But sometimes we make a deadly mistake when we set aside mercy to get to the bottom of an issue, to lay down the law on someone. I have done this, and it always leads to death in relationships, in families, in friendships, and in ministry.

“The letter of the law kills,” Paul would write, “but the Spirit gives life” (see 2 Corinthians 3:6). Once we set aside mercy, even temporarily, to get to the bottom of an issue, to find out who’s right and who’s wrong, to get to the letter of the law, the end result will always be death. Always. Friendships will die. Families will divide. Ministry will shut down. No good comes from removing the mercy seat. Therefore, be merciful. To whom? To the person you’re angry with. Be gracious. To whom? To the person you feel has wronged you.

Whenever you feel far from God, a practical way you can be brought back into His presence is by remembering the mercy seat. That is, find people to whom you can show mercy. I have discovered over and over again in my own life that there are two uniquely practical ways I truly experience the presence of the Lord. The first is by praising Him. Psalm 22:3 declares that He inhabits the praises of His people. The second is by showing mercy to people, for it was at the mercy seat that God chose to dwell.

Why was the Table of Showbread to be two cubits long? Two is the number of union, communion, and agreement (Amos 3:3). True communion with God takes place when we agree with Him and confess our sins. The Greek word translated “confession” is homologeo, which means “to speak the same.”

Thus, confession in the biblical sense is not a matter of promising not to sin again, but rather of simply agreeing with God and saying of any given sin, “This sin is depressing and defeating me, Lord. And it’s detrimental to others.”

Surely God knows our sins. Why, then, does He want us to confess them? Because every sin I specifically confess loses its grip on me to an ever greater degree. In addition, when I also confess that a specific sin is blotted out by the blood of Calvary, there is a dynamic which takes place in the Spirit that sets me free. Confession is not promising never to sin again, but simply calling sin what it is and acknowledging that it’s forgiven. That’s two cubits. That’s union.

The word translated “candlestick” is the Hebrew word menorah. A menorah held oil lamps rather than wax candles. The Lampstand was not made of wood covered with gold as were the Ark and the Table of Showbread, but it was made of pure gold.

A few chapters from now, we will see how Aaron made a calf from molten gold. Unlike that false god, this Lampstand, which speaks of Jesus Christ as the Light of the Word, was made of beaten gold. Many people say, “You Christians claim that Jesus is the single answer, the only Way, the one true Light. But how do you know what you’re declaring is right?” The answer is that, like the gold of the Candlestick, He was beaten, yet He rose again from the dead.

Truly, it’s when you are beaten and yet continue to burn bright that the beauty, the reality of the Light of the Word is most clearly seen. This means that the point at which you choose to embrace the difficulty that seems to beat upon you is the point where you will see Jesus in ways you’ve never seen Him before. It is when you’re being beaten, when you’re in the fiery trial that Jesus is clearer to you than you ever dreamed possible.

Ask Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego. As they were in the furnace, whom did they see? The Son of God in their midst. How real was He? So real they didn’t want to leave the furnace (Daniel 3:25–26). A lot of people try to get out of the fire, when in reality, it is the fire itself which causes the Lord to be seen most clearly.

The instruments used to trim the wicks and snuff out the candles were to be pure gold. So too, there will be people in our lives who are there morning and evening, “snipping” and “snuffing.” And, although my tendency is to belittle them, I am in error when I do because they provide golden opportunities for me to burn brighter.

I find it interesting that although the weight is given of the Lampstand (a talent), unlike the Ark and the Table of Showbread, the dimensions aren’t given. Could this be because there is no limit to how brightly we are to shine?

The curtains, which would serve as walls of the Tabernacle, were to be made of four colors: white, blue, purple, and scarlet. The number four draws one’s mind to the four Gospels which, not surprisingly, correspond perfectly to the four colors of the Tabernacle. Luke speaks of the righteous humanity of Jesus, which would be typified by the fine white linen. John portrays Jesus as deity, which would be typified by blue, the color of Heaven. Matthew writes of Jesus as King of the Jews, as seen in purple, the color of royalty. Mark speaks of Jesus as the Suffering Servant, seen in the color scarlet . . .

The Hebrew word, tola’ath, can be translated either of two ways: “scarlet” or “worm.” Why? Because in Old Testament times when people wanted to dye something scarlet, they would dip the material in ground-up worms and the material would take on a scarlet color.

“I am a worm, and no man,” cried the psalmist, prophetically speaking of Jesus on the Cross (Psalm 22:6). And the word he used was tola’ath, a most fitting word. You see, to reproduce, the tola’ath, or worm, would fasten itself on the limb of a tree and die in the process of giving birth. As it died, it left a red spot that, according to the New International Bible Encyclopedia, turned white after three days and flaked off like snow. “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow,” Isaiah declared (1:18). The picture is perfect. Jesus fastened Himself to a tree that we might be born into His family. He sacrificed His life that we might live. Three days later, He rose again, and our sin that was scarlet was washed white as snow.

Is it any wonder that scarlet was one of the colors in the Tabernacle and in the garments of the priest?

The Altar would be carried by staves, or poles, slipped through the rings upon it. I like this because the Altar speaks of Communion and the Communion Table ought to be portable. That is, wherever we are, we are to remember and receive the work Christ did for us on the brass altar of Calvary.

The Altar was the only piece of Tabernacle furniture covered with purple (Numbers 4:13–14). Purple is the color of royalty. Why is Jesus Christ our King? Not because of what He does for me presently, but because of what He already did on the Cross. He’s not our King so that we’ll have a happy day or have our bills paid, so that we’ll get a newer car or have better relationships. The purple cloth was over the Brass Altar exclusively because His death is the basis of His kingly authority over our lives. His sacrifice saved us from hell, and even if He never answers another prayer or sends another blessing our way, that is reason enough to praise Him all the days of our lives.

The door into the outer courtyard was made of the same fabric as the veil and as the door into the Tabernacle itself. Whether one is talking about the door into the courtyard (the place of salvation), the door into the Holy Place (the place of service), or the door into the Holy of Holies (the place of worship), it’s all the same door. It’s all through Jesus.

You see, just as the Tabernacle was comprised of three sections - the outer courtyard, the Holy Place, and the Holy of Holies - I believe there are three stages of our lives in Christ.

There are those who are inside the courtyard. They’re in Christ, part of the Kingdom. They realize Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, was slain for their sins. They receive His salvation; they embrace His grace.

But there are others who say, “Because God has been so good to me, I want to serve Him.” So they go into the Holy Place and serve the showbread, which speaks of the Word of God. They teach Sunday school, lead family devotions, or share the Word with someone at work. They see the golden lampstand and desire to let their light shine through good works (Matthew 5:16), by helping in the nursery, visiting shut-ins, and serving those in need. They smell the incense burning and are reminded that it speaks of intercession. So they pray consistently for the lost and for their brothers and sisters, for their families and their countries.

Yet there are still others who, like the high priest himself, enter into the Holy of Holies in order to simply spend time in the Lord’s presence, to consider His character, ponder His nature, give Him praise, express their love, and bring Him pleasure. All too often, we don’t understand this. We think if we could lead worship, preach a sermon, or be a missionary, we’d be amazing. But those things don’t hold a candle to the highest level, to coming into the presence of the Lord and worshiping Him intimately. And here’s the irony: the highest form of ministry, the most satisfying aspect of ministry is available to every single person right now.

Jesus went to the home of His close friends in Bethany, the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Lazarus is not mentioned in the Luke 10 account. He was outside, in the outer courtyard, if you will. He was a friend of the Lord to be sure. But he was outside. Martha was in the kitchen, or the Holy Place, as it were, serving. She was baking bread, doing good works, and even praying, “Lord, tell my sister to get in here and help me!” Mary, however, was sitting at the feet of Jesus. She was in the Holy of Holies. And, of her, Jesus said, “Mary has chosen the better part” (see Luke 10:42).

Nothing compares to being in the Holy of Holies, to being in the Lord’s presence. It’s the highest calling, the most important aspect of ministry. And it’s available to every one of us.

The ephod was an apron that extended to the knees, a most fitting garment for one involved in the work of preparing animals for sacrifice. The ephod speaks of Christ because, in Old Testament culture, the ephod spoke of authority.

After Gideon led the people of Israel to victory over their enemies, the Midianites, the people asked him to be their king. Gideon refused, saying it was the Lord who would rule them (Judges 8:23). Not many people would turn down an opportunity for power or privilege or prestige. Gideon did. There are many wonderful lessons to be learned from the life of Gideon, and this is one of the great ones. He did not take advantage of an opportunity to put himself in a place of prominence. But then he made a critical mistake when he melted the golden earrings the men had collected as the spoils of war into a golden ephod. Evidently, he thought a golden ephod would help the people remember they were to get instruction and counsel from God through the high priest. But his plan backfired when the people began worshiping the ephod instead of worshiping God (Judges 8:27).

You and I have a great High Priest in Jesus. Therefore, how careful we must be that we don’t begin to say, “I’ve got some pretty good things to say, some very enlightening counsel to give, my own golden ephod to share with you.”

“Woe to the rebellious children, saith the LORD, that take counsel, but not of me . . . In returning and rest shall ye be saved . . . And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it” (Isaiah 30:1, 15, 21). Jesus alone wears the ephod. Jesus alone is the Anointed One.

In the Old Testament, where were the stones - the Urim and Thummim - that would give direction? Over the heart of the high priest. Now, however, the Lord gives direction not by a breastplate worn over the heart but by the branding He performs upon our hearts.

But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel; After those days, saith the LORD, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people. - Jeremiah 31:33

This is fantastic. Here God declares we’ll know what we ought to do not by some external stone, but by impressions and desires within our hearts. That is why David could say, “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart” (see Psalm 37:4). What are we to do to find God’s will? Augustine nailed it when he said, “Love [God] and do what you will.”

Why do I teach the Bible? Because I enjoy it. You see, I am simple enough to believe God’s promise that if I delight in Him, He will put desires in my heart which conform to His perfect plan for me. If you’re not delighting in the Lord, don’t follow the desires of your heart because they will lead you on a dangerous path. But if you say, “Although I know I have problems and flaws, I do love the Lord and I want to delight in Him,” He’ll give you light and direction, the Urim and the Thummim, in your heart.

With blue being the color of Heaven, we see here a picture of Christ the Heavenly One. John tells us it was because He knew where He had come from, and where He was going that He washed His disciples’ feet (John 13:3–5). Some people say, “You’re so Heavenly minded, you’re no earthly good.” Jesus, however, would show us we can be no earthly good until we’re Heavenly minded. Why? Because if I’m not Heavenly minded, I’ll get bogged down taking care of my toys, my trinkets, and my trivial world. But as I choose to be Heavenly minded, and live for the big picture of eternity, I will enjoy this life immensely because I won’t take it so seriously.

Of all the fruits in the world, none has more seeds than the blood-red interior of a pomegranate. On the Cross, Jesus shed His blood in order that His Spirit might bear much fruit through seeds like you and me.

If pomegranates speak of the fruit of the Spirit, bells speak of the gifts of the Spirit. The bells of the ephod were made to have a beautiful sound in and of themselves. But if they hit one another, they would sound like nothing more than a clanging gong or a crashing cymbal. So the bells were to be separated by pomegranates, by the fruit of the Spirit, so as to ring in harmony. That is why in 1 Corinthians 12, Paul talks about the gifts of the Spirit. In chapter 14, he also talks about the gifts of the Spirit. But in between the two is a pomegranate, for in chapter 13, he talks about the fruit of the Spirit, which is love.

In 1 Timothy 1:12, Paul says, “I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry.” Like Paul, I am amazed at the goodness and grace of God that He would include me in this glorious privilege called ministry.

Ministry is a privilege because of the present blessings. “With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you,” Jesus said (Mark 4:24). That is, what we give out, we’ll get back. And I have found that to be oh, so true. When I pray for others, I get blessed. When I share with others, I am confirmed in the truth of the Scriptures. When I witness to others, my own faith grows deeper, stronger, and more powerful.

This should not be surprising. After all, Jesus promised we would receive power to become His witnesses (Acts 1:8). And the word He used for power was dunamis, from which we get our word “dynamite.” This dynamic experience, this power is like an electrical charge. Therefore, like electricity, it will only enter that from which it can exit. The power, the electricity, and the anointing of the Holy Spirit is given to you that it might flow through you to others. The one who wants to be used by the Lord in the lives of others will experience the electric, dynamic power of the Spirit. That’s why I love being in the ministry.

Second, I enjoy being in the ministry because of future rewards. What we do in ministry - even as simple as giving a cup of cold water in Jesus’ name - will be rewarded by the Lord and will impact us eternally (Matthew 10:42). You might think you don’t care about rewards. But you will then. When we get to Heaven and rewards are given, you’ll say, “I wish I would have taken more seriously the admonitions to strive to run the race, to win the prize, to gain the crown” (see Philippians 3:14).

Third, I love the ministry because of real needs. People all around us are lost. Wandering around like sheep without a shepherd, they don’t know what to do. They’re depressed, discouraged, and worst of all, without Jesus, they’re headed for hell. They don’t know that God sent His Son not to condemn them, but to save them, to die in place of them that they might be forgiven of their sins and might spend eternity in Heaven (John 3:17). So I say, “Lord, thank You for allowing me to be in the ministry because I see people all around me who are confused, and You’ve given such simple and significant answers for me to share with them.”

And He’s given the same opportunity to you, for although you might earn a living as a schoolteacher, a carpenter, or an electrician, you are in the ministry every bit as much as I am. The division between the clergy and the laity is a man-made distinction without biblical basis, for Jesus said, “Ye have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain” (John 15:16).

The hands of Aaron and his sons - once empty enough to place on the head of the sin offering - are now filled.

On one mountain ridge stood the people of Israel. On the other were the Philistines. And in the valley between them, Goliath taunted the people of Israel day after day, challenging them to send someone to do battle with him. The Israelites were understandably terrified. After all, Goliath was at least 9'9" and possibly as tall as 11'6". So heavy was his spear that the tip alone weighed thirty pounds. To put that in perspective, shot-putters throw a ball weighing a mere sixteen pounds. The armor he wore to protect his chest was two hundred pounds. Goliath was indeed massive. When the young shepherd boy from Bethlehem arrived on the scene and heard Goliath’s jeers, he said, “Give me a chance. Let me take him on.” You see, while everyone else thought Goliath was too big to hit, David thought he was too big to miss. Turning down the offer of armor too large for him, David went into the valley of Elah with the only thing he was accustomed to using: his sling. But it was empty until, there in the very valley in which he would do battle, he found five stones - one of which would slay Goliath (1 Samuel 17:40).

Just as it wasn’t until David had already committed himself to the battle that he found the stones, and just as it wasn’t until Aaron and his sons were to make an offering to the Lord that they were given bread and meat, it won’t be until you start sharing your faith and reaching out to people that you will be given exactly what you need for ministry (Matthew 10:19). Daring to minister is as necessary as preparing to minister, for it’s when we are in the valley of confrontation that we’ll look down and see five smooth stones waiting to be put to God’s use.

A lamb was to be sacrificed every morning and every evening. There seems to be a wonderful principle for which the Lord is laying the groundwork here - we are to start our day with the sacrifice of prayer and praise and end it in the same way. Prayer in the morning opens the door to blessing. Prayer at night locks it in and makes us safe and secure. You see, the Enemy doesn’t snooze. Therefore, if you wake up feeling blue and wondering why, it could very well be that you’ve been a target of his. But you can shield yourself to a large degree from his attacks by turning off the TV and praying before you end your day.

Think of it this way: If I came home from a week away and said, “Tammy, we don’t need to sit down and talk. You can just follow me around and we’ll talk on the go,” what kind of relationship would we have? There needs to be a constant flow of conversation, true. But for a marriage to be strong, there must be not only a quantity of time, but a quality of time, where both people are completely focused on each other.

And I suggest that same thing is true in our relationship with the Lord. While we are to indeed pray without ceasing all through the day, there also must be times when we say, “Lord, I’m here to talk to You, to hear from You, to offer You the sacrifice of thoughtful, articulate, emotional, and intelligent praise. I’m here to press into Your presence, to pour out my heart, to focus exclusively on You.” It’s not a “got to.” It’s a “get to.”

Every part of the Tabernacle pictures and points to Jesus Christ. And the Altar of Incense is no exception. The Brass Altar of chapter 27 portrays Jesus in His first coming. The Golden Altar of Incense speaks of His present work and His second coming. At one cubit by one cubit, or 18" by 18", the Altar of Incense is much smaller than the imposing Brass Altar of sacrifice because Jesus doesn’t need to go to great lengths, wrestling and pleading with the Father through intercessory prayer on our behalf. No, He’s constantly, continually, and consistently bringing us up before the Father in a comfortable confidence.

Sometimes our prayers don’t get answered the way we hope because the Lord is answering previous prayers we have forgotten about. For example, we pray, “Lord, make me a godly man. Give me patience. Give me depth. Bring me into holiness.”

“Okay,” the Lord says. So a challenge comes our way, and what do we say?

“Get me out of here, Lord! Why am I in this predicament? What’s going on? Have You forgotten about me? Don’t You care?”

That’s why we need an Intercessor, a High Priest who loves us, who sees the big picture, who knows what we have asked for and what’s coming down the road . . .

“Simon, Simon,” Jesus said, “Satan desires to sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith fail not. And when you are converted, when you get through this ordeal, strengthen the brethren” (see Luke 22:32).

“But Peter’s faith failed,” you say.

No it didn’t. His hope failed. “Hope maketh not ashamed” (Romans 5:5). That’s why when Peter’s hope failed, he was ashamed of his link to Jesus (John 18:17). Later on, after Jesus rose again, Peter was unable to tell Him he loved Him because Peter knew Jesus’ definition of love was to keep His commandments (John 14:21). Peter’s hope failed. Peter’s love failed. But his faith never failed. He always believed.

So too, today Jesus says to us, “I know your Simon-like tendencies. I know you get shaken and that you are unstable. But I’m praying for you that your faith doesn’t fail. I’m holding you up. So when you get through - and you will get through this - strengthen others.”

Much incense came from the Golden Censer at the Altar of Heaven seen in Revelation 8. The incense speaks not only of the prayers of the Savior on our behalf, but also of our intercessory ministry on behalf of others. Incense was burned on an altar because prayer requires sacrifice. There is nothing harder to do in spiritual life than pray. Why? I believe it’s because Satan opposes it so vehemently. Why? He knows that’s where the power is. Just as the Altar of Incense was the piece of furniture closest to the mercy seat, we are never closer to the Father than when we’re in prayer.

“Son of David, have mercy on me,” cried the Syro-Phoenician woman. Yet Luke tells us Jesus walked by as though He heard her not. “Son of David, have mercy,” she cried again. But Jesus kept going. The phrase “Son of David” was a Jewish term used by Jewish people to address the Jewish Messiah. This woman, however, was a Gentile. She had heard stories about what had taken place in Israel, about Jewish people who were blind or leprous crying out to the Son of David to heal them. So she used their formula. But it didn’t apply to her. It was religion. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t until she said, “Lord, help me,” that Jesus stopped in His tracks and healed her daughter (Matthew 15:25).

Keep your prayer simple. Don’t think you have to copy how someone else prays or use the phrases someone else uses. The Altar of Incense was small. It’s not the length of your prayers, but their strength and their sincerity that matters (Ecclesiastes 5:2).

There have been groups throughout history who, on the basis of this verse, have said atonement for souls can be made by paying money. Can atonement be purchased? Can man be “at one” with God for a price? No. The entire Bible argues against that. We can’t purchase salvation. Yet salvation must indeed be purchased. And it was. Peter tells us we were redeemed not with corruptible things like silver and gold, but by the precious blood of the Lamb (1 Peter 1:18–19).

Great is the day when we realize our lives are not our own, when we say, “If the Lord wants to take me through tragedy or difficulty, if He chooses to make me a pauper, send me to Africa, give me kids or give me none, I’m not my own. And because I’ve been bought with a price, I who was once headed for hell am destined for Heaven.”

The Laver wherein the priests were to wash was to be made of brass. Throughout Scripture, brass is the metal of judgment. Where did the children of Israel get the brass to make the laver? Exodus 38 tells the story. When construction of the Tabernacle actually began, the women donated the brass looking glasses they had been given in Egypt. I find this more than coincidental because James likens the Word to a mirror (1:23–25). And therein lies the problem. You see, when we open the Word, we see our reflection, and it’s not as it should be. We see our failures and flaws, our sins and shortcomings. And although we understand that the Word brings benefits to those who study it, sometimes we become exhausted by trying to live up to its standards.

But wait, the Brass Laver was filled with water. Without water, all one would see was the reflection of his flaws and failures, but without a way to rid himself of them. But the addition of water made the laver refreshing and renewing. “All you who thirst, come to Me,” Jesus said, “and out of your innermost being shall gush forth torrents of living water” (see John 7:37–38).

I was at a point some years ago when I was reading through the Gospels as I love to do. But I was weary. I came to the portion where Jesus touched a leper and the leper was cleansed. And I heard myself saying, “I need to be helping people physically just like Jesus did.”

Then I turned the page and saw how Jesus touched the ears and tongue of a man unable to hear and speak. And I found myself thinking, “I need to find some dumb guys and help them just like Jesus did.”

Then I turned the page and read how Jesus had compassion on the multitudes and fed five thousand hungry men. And I said, “That’s the way it ought to be. I need to get involved in World Vision or Compassion International and help feed hungry people.”

Then I saw Jesus blessing kids and thought, “I need to work with kids.”

Then I saw how Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee, and was reminded of those I knew whose marriages were on the rocks, whose lives were in turmoil, and decided I should do what I could to see those storms stilled.

Then I read how Jesus defended the woman caught in adultery, and felt that I should stand up for those who are socially or politically oppressed.

And at the end, I was exhausted. Finally, I said, “I just can’t read another chapter. I can’t do it. Jesus, I’m impressed with You. I see the rightness of what You do. But I can’t do all the things You did.”

And it was at that moment that the Lord whispered in my heart, “Exactly. You have yourself in the wrong position. I’m the One who touches the leper. I’m the One who blesses the children. I’m the One who feeds the hungry. I’m the One who makes the dumb to speak. I’m the One who stands up for the woman. I’m the One who calms the storms. It’s not you. It’s Me.”

“I get it,” I said. “You’re the Christ. I’m not. That makes me the leper. I’m being eaten away every day by my sin and carnality. Yet every day You come my way and touch and restore my life. I’m the dumb guy. I say things I shouldn’t say. I put my foot in my mouth. Yet You’re there to forgive me and straighten me out. I’m the deaf man. But You never give up on me. You open my ears, You renew my thoughts. I’m the little child who needs a touch from You. I’m the hungry one, and only You can meet the need within me. I’m the one caught in adultery, and You’re there to forgive me. I’m the one caught in the storm, and You’re the One who walks out to rescue me. I’ve been reading my Bible all wrong. No wonder I’ve been so weary, so reluctant to keep reading. I’ve placed myself in the wrong role. You’re the Christ; I’m the leper. Thank You for Your mercy. Thank You for Your patience. Where would I be without You?”

And when the Lord adjusted my thinking, Scripture reading became a total joy once again.

Here we see the “recipe” for the anointing oil used throughout Israel’s history to anoint three groups of people: prophets, priests, and kings. Oil in Scripture is always emblematic of the Spirit. Therefore, anointing with oil is a picture of the work of the Spirit. As the “Prophet . . . like unto me” of Deuteronomy 18:15, as our great High Priest who ever lives to make intercession for us (Hebrews 7:25), as King of kings and Lord of lords at whose name every knee will one day bow (Romans 14:11), Jesus is the Anointed One. Comprised of the sweet-smelling spices of myrrh, cinnamon, and calamus, this oil was sweet, for Jesus, the Anointed One, is nothing but sweet. He is never grouchy, discouraged, or depressed. He is never out of sorts, under the weather, or in a bad mood. He is the sweetest person you’ll ever encounter day after day after day.

“Didn’t He call the Pharisees blind guides, hypocrites, and whitewashed sepulchres? That’s not very sweet,” you may say.

Actually, it was. Knowing it would take that kind of language to break through their thick skulls, hard hearts, and closed minds, Jesus used language intended to jar them into listening. And even though He called them whitewashed tombs, hypocrites, and blind guides, some of their number sensed that He loved them, as seen in their desire to spend time with Him (Luke 11:37; John 3:1).

The perfume Moses was commanded to make was to be sacred. So too, as the fragrance of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:15), we must be holy. The winning combination, as seen in the recipe for the perfume, is to be as gracious to other people as you possibly can be and to seek to be pure and holy in your own life. All too often, we reverse this. We want others to be holy, but we want grace to be poured out upon us. Jesus, of course, is the perfect example of how grace and holiness are to function . . .

While in Samaria - a place Jews didn’t usually visit - to whom did Jesus speak? In a day when rabbis didn’t even speak to their own wives in public, Jesus talked to a woman. And when she told Him she didn’t have a husband, rather than condemn her for her lie, He commended her for the part of her statement that was true (John 4:17). As a result, her heart was touched and her city impacted (John 4:30). Although we might expect Jesus to address the issue of her living situation, that’s not what He did. Why? Having been divorced five times, the chances of this woman getting married again were nil. Therefore, leaving the man with whom she was living would have given her no other recourse than prostitution to support herself. Jesus knew this, and no doubt also knew that in due season she would grow in her understanding of who He was and what new life in Him would entail.

Do Samaritans and pagans love to be around you? They loved to be around Jesus. How we need to be like Him: in our own lives to be holy and pure, and in the lives of others to be sweet, to show grace, and to share love.

God empowered, energized, and anointed carpenters, tailors, and perfumers to do this work. Bezaleel was the foreman, but Aholiab was the assistant, along with others who served by his side.

When asked what was the hardest position in the orchestra to fill, a famous conductor said, “First chair, second violin. I can find all kinds of people who want to play first violin. But it’s hard to find someone who wants to be excellent at second violin, someone who wants to play harmony.”

Our human tendency is to want to be mediocre at first violin rather than to excel at second. Not so with Aholiab. He was told he would be assistant to Bezaleel. And he was successful in that position. Thus, he is an example for all of history of the way God uniquely and powerfully uses “second fiddles” for His glory.

As chronicled in a 1970s bestseller entitled The Peter Principle, all too often the problem in corporate America is that people are promoted to the level of incompetence. That is, a man who does well in his position is promoted to the next level. After doing well there, he is moved to level three. Succeeding there, he is moved to level four. And he keeps being promoted until, toward the top, he’s over his head. He was good going up the ladder, but he went one step too far. And when the corporation downsizes, guess who gets the ax? God doesn’t want that for us. He wants us to fit into the place He’s custom designed for us. Am I saying we are not to take steps of faith? No, I’m saying that we must avoid the folly of taking one step too many.

If God puts you in a number one spot, He will give you the grace and ability to handle it. But if you’re in a number two position, rejoice and excel at that. Whether on the job or in ministry, if you’re wanting to climb one more rung, be careful. If you’re a Bezaleel, great. If you’re an Aholiab, wonderful. Just be content and shine in the position the Lord places you.

The Hebrew word 'ohel is translated “tabernacle” in this passage. The tabernacle spoken of here is not the tabernacle Moses had been given instruction to build; that is called by the Hebrew word, mishken. Rather, the tabernacle spoken of here is the meeting tent for the congregation. Moses packs up the meeting tent and re-pitches it outside the camp. Having heard the Lord declare that He would not be in the midst of the camp, it’s as if Moses were saying, “If God’s not there, I don’t want to be there either.”

You and I desperately need times of pitching our tents outside the camp of busyness in order to be made aware of God’s presence once again. And at times, this takes some effort . . .

A number of years ago, when my three kids were little, I took them camping at Indian Mary campground. As a single dad in those days, I was delighted that my college roommate and his family joined us. But about five hours after we pitched our tents, a massive storm arose. Although we weathered it for a couple of days, staying in the tents and hanging out under whatever coverings we could find, finally it got so wet we packed up everything and all headed home. On my way back to Jacksonville, the kids and I stopped at McDonald’s. As they played on the Playland equipment, the sun popped through. At that moment I realized that, although we’d been camping for a couple of days, I missed my objective totally - which was to focus on my kids. We adults were playing games and enjoying fellowship, but I didn’t accomplish what I had initially set out to do. So I loaded the kids back in the car, we went back to Indian Mary, re-pitched the tent, hung out all the wet stuff, and shared some of the best days we have ever spent together.

The same is true in your walk with the Lord. Sometimes you’ll have devotions or Bible study, only to realize at the end that a storm blew through, that you were distracted by this, caught up in that, and lost focus. But if you don’t give up, if you re-pitch your tent, if you change location and say, “Lord, I really need to be in Your presence,” God will meet you there.

Was it because of the holiness, devotion, or piety of the people that God promised His presence would go with them and give them rest? Obviously not, for just one chapter earlier, they were caught up in idolatry and immorality as they danced around the golden calf. No, God declared His presence would go with them and give them rest, not because they were worthy but because they had a mediator named Moses who stood between their sin and God’s holiness. Sin requires judgment, but in Moses, God found a way to bless His people rather than to judge them.

For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time. - 1 Timothy 2:5–6

Like the children of Israel, we drop the ball; we fall short; we mess up constantly. But also like them, we experience the presence of God because we too have a Mediator, a greater than Moses - Jesus Christ.

As a result we, like the children of Israel, are given direction by a God who will go “in the way before you, to search you out a place to pitch your tents” (Deuteronomy 1:33).

As the people were preparing to enter the Promised Land, they were to follow the Ark of the Covenant, and yet there was to be two thousand cubits - over half a mile - between them and the Ark. In commanding this, it’s as if God were saying, “Give Me space. I’m going ahead of you to prepare the place for you and to prepare you for the place to which I’m leading you” (see Joshua 3:3–4).

The Lord has promised direction for us. Our part is to give Him space to work.

“If you ask anything in My name, I will do it,” Jesus said (John 14:14). For many years, I thought this meant I was to simply add the phrase “In Jesus’ name” to the end of my prayers, sort of like, “over and out.” But when I understood that praying in Jesus’ name means to pray according to His nature, I found I couldn’t pray a lot of prayers I had been praying prayers like, “Lord, deal with that guy who just cut me off on the highway,” prayers like, “I want this to happen now.”

“Am I unmerciful, impatient, or short-fused?” the Lord asked me. “Or am I longsuffering, merciful, and slow to anger? I only work in ways that reflect who I am.”

It was because Moses knew the name, the nature, and the character of God that he was able to ask for His presence, His pardon, and His eternal promise. Meditate on God’s nature as seen in the person of Jesus. Get a strong, firm grip on this, understand, and your prayers will become those God can answer.

Going without food for forty days does not usually help one’s appearance, especially if he is eighty years old. But this was not true in this case, where, after spending forty days in the presence of the Lord on Mount Sinai, Moses’ face actually glowed.

Reflecting the glory he had experienced on the mountain, Moses didn’t initially realize his face was glowing. That’s always the way it is. When we spend time in the presence of the Lord, when we are at His feet, when we take time to pray, when we worship Him and spend time in the Word, our gloom is replaced by a glow. “I don’t feel like I glow,” you say, but Moses didn’t know he was glowing either.

When the Holy Spirit fell on the one hundred twenty disciples in the Upper Room, a flame burned above each of their heads (Acts 2:3). This means that if you were one of the one hundred twenty, you would look around and see one hundred nineteen other people ignited, on fire, and illuminated with the power of the Spirit. But you would not see the flame on top of your own head. And such is our tendency, to think everyone but us is aflame. Actually, it’s the goodness and grace of God that doesn’t allow us to see our own flame . . .

Moses was a man of integrity, of humility. And it was a good thing there was a glow on his face, for he held the law of the Lord in his hands. The children of Israel needed to hear the commands, the exhortations, and the instructions of the Lord. But you know how kids are. They’re not always receptive to commandments, instructions, or exhortations. We all tend to be rebellious by nature. Yet when Moses came down from the mountain and talked to the children of Israel, what could they say? After all, his face was glowing.

Mom and Dad, if your kids aren’t being very receptive to your instructions, it might be because there’s a glare instead of a glow on your face. Moses glowed, and it made the Word he shared acceptable, the things he said palatable.

Why did Moses glow? Having been in the presence of the Lord, he was simply reflecting the glory inherent in the Lord. In other words, just by hanging out with the Lord, Moses’ face glowed. So too, spending time in the presence of the Lord will impact you in a very real and special way even today. But here’s the problem: Moses’ glow began to diminish, decrease, and decline. It wasn’t until he spent time with the Lord that he began to glow once again.

And that’s what needs to happen in our lives. We need to realize that we need to be renewed and recharged constantly. Oh, we can do well for a while, but then our glow turns to a glower or a glare. And we find ourselves dull. But when we return to the presence of the Lord, we get recharged and refueled constantly and consistently through prayer, through worship, and through His Word.

Bezaleel and Aholiab were given ability to do the work that needed to be done practically. But we also read that they came. If you want your life to be impacting, the key is to have both ability and availability. There are people who have great abilities, but they’re never available. When there is work to do, when opportunities open, or when needs are presented, they’re just not around. Bezaleel and Aholiab go down in history as models, their names recorded for eternity, as men who used the practical gifts God had given them for His glory. How the Church of Jesus Christ needs men who will say, “I can’t preach or sing, but I can fix an engine,” or “I can’t evangelize, but I can pour cement.” We need you! Make yourself available, and your name will be added to the roster of Bezaleel and Aholiab.

Moses was able to finish the work of the Tabernacle because he knew precisely how to build it. How did he know? As he spent forty days on Mount Sinai in fasting and prayer, God laid out a perfect pattern for him to follow.

“I wish God would give me a blueprint,” we say. “If He would give me a plan, I would follow it.” But do we take forty days to seek Him for it? How about four days, or even four hours? Paul spent three years in the deserts of Arabia getting the divine pattern for his life. Jesus spent thirty years tuned into the Father before He ministered publicly for three years. So too, we need times where we seek God fervently and expectantly.

For an example of how this happens, turn to the book of Habakkuk . . .

Habakkuk’s name means “wrestler” - an appropriate name for this one who wrestled with why God wasn’t doing more to combat the evil in the world around him. And in his life, we see three characteristics of those who seriously seek specific vision from God.

I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what he will say unto me, and what I shall answer when I am reproved. And the LORD answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. - Habakkuk 2:1–2

The first characteristic is determination. Habakkuk didn’t say, “I should stand upon my watch,” or “I think I’ll stand upon my watch.” He said, “I will stand upon my watch.”

“You will find Me when you search for Me with all your heart,” God declared (see Jeremiah 29:13). As with Habakkuk, there must come a point in our lives when we are determined to seek the Lord if we truly expect to hear from Him.

Second, we see the importance of isolation. I have found that when I’m in desperate need of vision and direction, I must get away from the telephone, radio, television, away from the clamor and clutter of the world. Wherever your “high tower” might be, find a place where you won’t be distracted by the needs that incessantly pull at you if you want to hear what it is God would have you do.

Finally, we see Habakkuk’s expectation. He didn’t say, “I’ll watch to see if God will speak to me,” but, “I’ll watch to see what God will say to me.”

“He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him,” declares the writer of the book of Hebrews (11:6). James echoes this when he writes,

If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering: for he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord. - James 1:5–7

If I approach God but don’t expect to receive from Him, I won’t.

Determination, isolation, and expectation - as these three components become part of my life, I’ll find direction. And if I’ve dropped the ball, missed opportunities, or failed miserably? I simply go to the Cross, where the One who finished the work died to cleanse me completely, and I begin again.

Oh, that we might be a people who find freedom in the finished work of the Cross, that we might finish the work God has called us to do, that we might hear Him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

In the text before us, we see a man coming to the courtyard of the Tabernacle. He stands before the priest and next to him is his bull or lamb, an innocent, docile, harmless animal. The man would then lay his hand - the Hebrew language implies that he would press it - upon the animal’s head. Then he would watch the priest slit the animal’s throat, and watch as the animal slumped to the ground. If the man had any kind of compassion, he would be moved as he realized that, in a very real sense, he was transferring his sin to the animal, and that the animal was literally dying in his place.

Short of men in his campaign through Europe, Napoleon began to draft heavily in France. However, when approached, one man answered, “I can’t go. My father is very ill and my mother cannot manage the farm alone.” So he was allowed to pay someone else to go in his place - a common practice of the time. The first day the substitute reported for duty, he was killed in battle and subsequently buried. A few months later, there was a knock on the door of the man who had hired the substitute. Once again, it was a recruiting officer who said, “Your number is up.”

“You can’t take me,” said the young man. “I’m already dead and buried.”

Baffled, the officer hauled him off to a military tribunal. The tribunal heard the case and sent it all the way to Napoleon himself, who, when he heard about the situation, agreed with the would-be soldier and said, “You’re right. You’re already dead. Go home.”

The man was free because someone died in his place. So too, I am free because the Lamb of God was slain in my place. It is my sin He bore, the sin of being short with my kids today, the sin of being annoyed with the driver in front of me yesterday, the sin of saying things which shouldn’t be said, the sin of thinking things that shouldn’t be thought, the sin of doing things which shouldn’t be done. My sin was transferred to Jesus, and He died in my place.

Suppose the man came with his bull to the Tabernacle, but when the priest told him to put his hand upon the bull, the man said, “Let me teach you the significance of this particular sacrifice.”

“I care not how knowledgeable you are theologically or how certain you are doctrinally,” the priest would answer. “Put your hand on the bull and press in, for if you don’t become involved, the sacrifice will be to no avail.”

Many Christians have no shortage of understanding or theological insight about the substitutionary work of Jesus Christ. They have the teaching down, but there’s no touching. That is why there will be those who say, “Lord, my theology is impeccable. I can explain to You the whole plan of salvation,” only to hear Him say, “Depart from Me. I never knew you. Your teaching was correct, but your touching was non-existent. You were not touching Me, nor were you touched by Me. Your heart was calloused and cold. When the Gospel was preached, you slumbered. When the Cross was considered, your mind wandered. No longer were you touched by the sacrifice. No longer did you press in.”

David was an adulterer, a murderer, and a liar, but after spending one year refusing to acknowledge his sin, David fell down in humility and brokenness. David’s was a heart of tenderness, a heart that laid its hand on the sacrifice. No wonder he could say, “Happy is the man whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Happy is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity” (see Psalm 32).

In addition to describing the severity of sin and the grace of God, the book of Leviticus portrays the sacrifice of Christ. Every offering and sacrifice gives us understanding of the unspeakable price the Lamb of God paid, that we might be forgiven, consecrated, and separated.

Burnt offerings were given to consecrate or dedicate one’s self. It was a voluntary offering, and had to be so, for true dedication can only be made from a heart filled with desire. True consecration comes not from responsibility, but from response. So too, just as the worshiper voluntarily offered the burnt offering, Jesus laid down His life willingly. When He prayed “If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me,” He used a phrase translated into Greek as a first-class conditional clause. This means it was indeed possible that He could bypass the cup of suffering and death. “Nevertheless,” He prayed, “not My will, but Thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). Had Jesus demanded to be released from suffering, He would not have had to go to Calvary - but we would be doomed and damned eternally.

Wood was laid on the fire of the altar in preparation for the sacrifice, just as a wooden cross was prepared for Jesus to absorb the fire of God’s righteous wrath on our behalf.

The head speaks of the mind. And Jesus’ mind is perfect. “Should we pay taxes to Rome?” His enemies asked in a futile attempt to entangle Him in political controversy. A “yes” answer would incense the Jews who abhorred the Roman government. A “no” answer would provide the Romans with grounds to arrest Him for anarchy.

“Whose image is on the coin?” Jesus asked in response. “Give to Caesar that which belongs to Caesar, and to God that which belongs to God.” In other words, “The coin bears Caesar’s image. Therefore, give the coin to Caesar. But man bears God’s image. Therefore, give your life to God” (see Matthew 22:21).

The burnt offering speaks of giving all that we are to the Lord. Do this, precious people, and I guarantee you will never, ever be disappointed, because man simply cannot out-give God.

As was the case with the burnt offering, the price of the meat offering varied according to possession. If a person had an oven, his meat was to be baked. If he had a covered pan, it was to be baked in the pan. If all he had was a frying pan, it was to be fried. Again, this tells us we are accountable to God according to how He has blessed us. God will use whatever you have, be it an oven, a covered dish, or a simple frying pan.

When Jesus taught the parable of the talents, the indictment was not given to the man with ten talents or even five, but to the man who buried his single talent (Matthew 25:28–29). If you only have one talent, if you possess nothing more than a frying pan, offer that one talent as a meat offering to God, and watch Him be glorified through it.

In ancient cultures, the fat was considered to be the best part of the animal. Therefore, think of all the people throughout the centuries who read this and thought that the Lord was taking the best part for Himself, when, in reality, He was keeping men from the one part of the animal that causes clogged arteries and heart attacks.

“Why must we have only one partner sexually?” we say.

“I’m saving you from heartbreak, disease, and misery,” God answers.

“Why must I give the tithe to You?” we question.

“Because I’m protecting you from the disease of greediness,” God answers.

“Why do You get the fat?” we ask.

“So you won’t be,” God says. “As time goes on, and ultimately when you get to Heaven, you’ll see everything I did was for your good.”

Precious people, everything God does is based on love, for He is love. We might not understand this right now, but as time goes on, we’ll see a reason for everything He did in our lives, and the reason that He kept the fat for Himself.

The fire on the altar was never to go out. Has the Lord’s fire that once blazed in your heart and radiated from your life been somewhat quenched? If so, go back to God and offer Him your body as a burnt offering morning and evening. Dedicate yourself anew to Him and once again He will ignite your soul. Go for it in your witness, in your worship, and in your work for Him. And light up the darkness once again.

In this review of the five sacrifices, notice the portrayal of the life of Christ from His baptism to His crucifixion . . .

In the burnt offering, we see Christ’s baptism, for both speak of total dedication. In the meat offering, we see Jesus being tempted, for both show an absence of leaven, an absence of sin. In the peace offering, we see Jesus embarking on public ministry, for both proclaim the good tidings of the Gospel. At the Cross, we see the sin and trespass offerings, as Jesus died not only for our sin nature, but also for our specific acts of sin.

I find it interesting, however, that in the life of the believer, the sacrifices are illustrated in reverse order . . .

A person gets saved when he realizes he has trespassed. Then he discovers he sins because he’s a sinner, because he has a sin nature. He confesses his sin, asks the Lord into his life, and communes with God through the peace offering, at the Lord’s Table. Then he says, “Refine me, Lord. Take out the lumps and the leaven in my life.” And finally, he says, “Don’t only sift me, but consume me, Lord. I’m laying my life down as a burnt offering. I want to be consumed by You.”

Where are you in this process? The further you choose to go, the happier you’ll be. I can guarantee this because Jesus told us that it’s when we lose our lives that we will truly find them (Matthew 10:39).

There is about to be a presentation of the priests. But before there can be presentation, there must first be preparation. That’s always the way it is . . .

God prepared Moses for eighty years - forty years as a prince in the courts of Pharaoh, and forty years as a shepherd on the backside of the desert - before calling him to lead His people away from Pharaoh and to shepherd them across the wilderness.

God prepared Paul for three years in the desert of Arabia before calling him to take the Gospel to the Gentiles.

God prepared Jesus for thirty years by having Him grow up under and submit to His earthly father and mother. As a result, He grew in favor with both God and man (Luke 2:52).

To you who, like me, want to be used by God, I would say, as did Zechariah, “Don’t despise the day of small things” (see 4:10). You may be on the backside of the desert, going through boring times or difficult situations, but know this: it’s all part of God’s preparation.

How does the Lord prepare us for service? First, we must be washed with water. Ephesians 5:26 identifies water as the Word of God. “Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you,” Jesus declared (John 15:3). “Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against Thee,” David proclaimed (Psalm 119:11). The washing of the water of the Word cleanses our souls and purifies our spirits. That’s why a person just can’t get too much Bible study. Even if you don’t understand it all completely, and even if you don’t think it’s making an impact, it is.

“When the Spirit comes, He shall bring to your remembrance all things I have spoken to you,” Jesus promised (see John 14:26). The work of the Holy Spirit is to remind us of the Word. He will not, however, be able to bring to our remembrance what we have not put in our memory. That’s why we must read Leviticus, Ezekiel, and Haggai.

“But I don’t get those books,” you might protest. “They’re boring.”

Read them anyway because you’re putting the Word in your soul, and in due season, at the right time, the Holy Spirit will put the pieces together in such a way that it will blow your mind.

As high priest, Aaron is a picture of our great High Priest, Jesus Christ. Aaron’s sons, however, are a picture of you and me - a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). While Aaron wore pomegranates and bells, gems and a gold plate, his sons were attired much more simply, only wearing three items.

The coat, or linen garment, speaks of salvation.

Which robe was placed on the Prodigal Son upon his return?

The best robe.

Whose robe was the best?

The father’s.

So too, when you accepted Jesus Christ, you were robed with the Father’s best robe, for He robed you with His Son (Isaiah 61:10).

The girdle, or belt, worn around the waist allowed the robes to be tucked in, freeing the legs for service. “Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth,” Paul would later write to the church at Ephesus (Ephesians 6:14).

Third, we see the bonnets, or turbans, which speak of submission (1 Corinthians 11). In our priestly service, we’re to be robed in Christ’s righteousness. We’re to be doing the work of service. And we’re to be submitted to those who are over us. There is no room in the body of Christ for lone rangers or independent agents. There is to be connection and submission, accountability and humility. You’ll never be in authority unless you are under authority. And while it is easy for me to submit to those with whom I agree, it is when I submit to a decision that I don’t necessarily agree with that a true spirit of submission and humility is worked within me.

After being washed in water, robed in righteousness, and anointed with oil, the fourth step of preparation for Aaron and his sons was to be symbolically covered with blood. It was literally applied to the ear, the thumb, and the big toe. Because the things we hear, the things we do, and the places we go can pollute us, we need the blood applied to us, the blood to cleanse us, and the blood to protect us from future sin.

As time went on, these priests applied the blood not only when they entered the Tabernacle, but when they exited it as well - a principle I have found to be a real key in ministry. Before I teach or share, or counsel or serve, I need to say, “Lord, I know I am a sinner. I know I am frail. I plead the blood to cleanse me in order that Your Spirit might flow through me.” And when I finish teaching, sharing, counseling, or serving, I need to plead the blood as well because when I’m done ministering, one of two things invariably happens: either I am totally discouraged about how badly I did, or I’m proud of how well I did; and that’s even more dangerous, for pride goes before destruction (Proverbs 16:18).

Pleading the blood takes care of both of these tendencies as we realize that, because we are sinners through and through, it’s only by God’s grace that we are allowed to minister at all.

The last step of preparation for the priesthood was isolation. With seven being the number of completion, Aaron and his sons were to remain in the Tabernacle for seven days.

Ministry is like the measles. You can’t give it unless you get it. You can’t give blessing unless you are blessed. And you won’t be blessed until you’re locked in, tucked away, and set aside. For how long? Until God’s preparatory work in you is complete.

Aaron and his sons were no doubt eager to begin, but they had to wait so that they wouldn’t die. Many ministries die because people don’t know the meaning of a personal devotional life, of spending chunks of time locked away in the presence of God.

In Leviticus 9:7–22, we see the procedure that was to be followed by the priests in offering a sacrifice. This passage is studied by Jewish scholars at great length because it’s the only time the procedure of a sacrifice is seen. Why does the Lord go into such detail? Why does He take almost an entire chapter to describe this procedure? Because He cares about the details of how He is to be worshiped, just as He cares about the details of how we are to live. Our God is a God of incredible order. Not only does the book of Leviticus attest to this, but His fingerprint can be seen on even the most minute aspect of nature, His concern over each sparrow, His awareness of each hair (Matthew 10:29–30).

The story is told of a lady who approached G. Campbell Morgan with a particular question.

“Why don’t you ask the Lord about that?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s too small a detail for the Lord,” she replied.

“Tell me, madam,” he countered, “what in your life is big to the Lord?”

Pray about everything, dear saint. Because nothing is big to God, nothing is too small for Him.

After a time of consecration and presentation, after a time of going in before the Lord and coming out to bless the people, suddenly fire from Heaven came down and consumed the offerings upon the altar. The glory of God was seen and people shouted - an understandable reaction, for the Hebrew word for worship implies a shout of joy.

We see the highest joy in a shout and the deepest reverence in a falling on one’s face. So awed and amazed were they by the presence of God, the people’s first reaction was to shout, but it was followed by a very quiet reverence before the Lord.

“The LORD is in His holy temple,” Habakkuk declared. “Let all the earth keep silence before Him” (Habakkuk 2:20). Sometimes the truest sign of an intense move of the Lord is not necessarily a shout, a clap, or even a word, but an awesome, quiet reverence.

“Come unto Me,” Jesus said, “all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; . . . and ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29). Why, then, are so many “mature” Christians burned out by their ministry to Him and their service for Him?

I believe Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu, give us the answer. Having been eyewitnesses to the glory of God filling the Tabernacle, and having seen the flames, having smelled the smoke of the fire from Heaven mystically and miraculously igniting the sacrifice upon the altar, it is understandable why Nadab and Abihu would be eager to join their famous father in ministry, to play a pivotal part in the “holy happening” unfolding before their eyes. After all, they had gone through the process of preparation and surely now was the time to begin, their time to shine. So they lit their censers and set out to take part in the celebration.

The problem, however, was that Nadab and Abihu lit their censers with strange fire. Strange fire is from any source other than the altar which burned continually and which speaks of Calvary.

For the love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead: And that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again. - 2 Corinthians 5:14–15

What Christ did on the altar of Calvary was that which motivated Paul day after day, year after year - for the love of Christ is a fire that never burns out.

Some people involve themselves in ministry simply because they want to be part of the action. But when the action shifts somewhere else, they shift along with it, leaving ministry behind. Others have a need to be used, so they serve the Lord to fulfill their own need. But when they’re needed somewhere else, ministry takes a back seat. Still others serve the Lord out of concern for the lost. But when the lost don’t respond as quickly as hoped, they eventually give up ministering altogether.

Ministry for ministry’s sake, ministry for fulfillment’s sake, or ministry for others’ sake is all strange fire that will eventually burn people out.

The only fire that will never burn one out is the fire from the altar of Calvary. Those who, like Paul, are constrained, motivated, and compelled by the love Christ demonstrated on Calvary will still be serving Him with passion, with effectiveness, and with intensity when they draw their last breath this side of eternity.

How can one keep from the Nadab and Abihu mentality? The simplest way is to go to the altar - the Lord’s Table - over and over again and remember what Christ Jesus did for us. When we bow our knee and commune with the Lord, when we handle His broken body and drink of His shed blood, all the dials are set back to zero as we remember the price He paid so willingly and lovingly.

Neither father nor brother were to mourn the deaths of Nadab and Abihu because the implication would be that God was unfair.

Ezekiel was another who was told not to mourn when, as an illustration to the people, God took his wife (Ezekiel 24). “Righteous and true are Thy judgments, O Lord,” say the multitudes in Heaven (see Revelation 19:2), seeing the full picture, understanding that God’s ways are absolutely perfect and without fail.

This side of eternity, our vision is so very limited. Yet even that which appears to be a tragedy to us is part of a bigger plan. After all, do you think Ezekiel and his wife are in Heaven right now feeling cheated that her life on earth was cut short, or do you think they’re blown away by the goodness of God in allowing her to partake of the unspeakable splendor of Heaven early? When you go through a hard time, a setback, or a tragedy, it is oh, so easy to suck sympathy from people, but you always do so at the expense of God’s reputation.

The Jews were allowed to eat those animals that had a divided hoof and chewed their cud. In other words, cleanliness was determined by how an animal walked and how it ate.

The question for us is obvious. Is there a “dividedness” in our walk? Are we separated from the world, or do we walk like everyone around us? We are new creatures in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). Is there a difference in our walk? There should to be.

Second, do we chew the spiritual “cud”? Just as a cow constantly chews and re-chews its food, we are to chew and re-chew the Word. We are to be those who think it through, pray it in, extract from it every nutrient to feed our inner man. No wonder the Hebrew word for chewing the cud is essentially the same word translated “meditation.”

This book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth; but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein: for then thou shalt make thy way prosperous, and then thou shalt have good success. - Joshua 1:8

We get to meditate on the Word. We get to look in the Book. We get to think it through once more. And as we do, we’ll have good success; we’ll be healthy; we’ll be clean.

Ravens are an unclean bird and a symbol of evil in the Bible. Why, then, did God use them to miraculously deliver food to Elijah in the wilderness (1 Kings 17:6)? I suggest it was to show us that He can use anyone or anything to minister to us. Sometimes we have a tendency to think we can’t be instructed by him, or corrected by her because they’re “unclean birds.” In reality, however, we can learn from anyone God sends our way, even if he or she might appear to be “unclean.”

“I’m not going to listen to my parents because they’re not as spiritual as I am,” some might say. Big mistake. God can use all sorts of interesting creatures and situations to bring food to us, to minister to us, to admonish, nourish, and correct us. Therefore, wise is the one who says, “Lord, give me eyes to see and ears to hear whatever You want to tell me through whatever messenger You choose.”

If an animal fell into a bag of seed, providing the seed was still in its shell, the seed could still be used. But if the shell of the seed was no longer there because water had softened it, that seed was to be thrown out, as the seed itself would have been polluted.

The seed is a picture of the Word (1 Peter 1:23). Therefore, if the seed is not encased by the armor of faith, rats of unbelief will gnaw at it, causing us to question if it truly is infallible, immutable, and applicable. In other words, the Word can lose its potency and power in people who read only to find fault. How much better to read the Word in faith and allow it to find and change the faults within us.

If she gave birth to a boy, a mother was ceremonially unclean for a total of forty-one days. If she gave birth to a girl, she was ceremonially unclean for a total of eighty days. Why was she unclean twice as long if she gave birth to a girl? Because through circumcision, the sin of the baby boy was addressed, but the sin of a baby girl could not be addressed in that way, leaving the mother alone to deal with the issue of sin.

Why would either mother or baby have to deal with sin? Why would the birth of either son or daughter be considered unclean? When we have babies, people send flowers, buy balloons, and celebrate. What, then, is the meaning of this chapter? Is the birth process something that is unclean? No, for it was God Himself who said, “Be fruitful, and multiply” (Genesis 1:28).

In this passage, God is illustrating something that is difficult for today’s world to comprehend or embrace. He is declaring that when a baby is born - as glorious and wonderful an event as that is - it causes uncleanness because another sinner is added to the world.

In Psalm 51, under inspiration of the Spirit, David declares, “In sin did my mother conceive me” (verse 5). At the moment of conception - not in the act of procreation, but at the moment of conception - a sin nature begins. This is the doctrine of the depravity of man - politically incorrect, but true nonetheless. Contrary to current psychological thought, babies don’t arrive with a “clean slate.” Man is not a sinner because he sins. He sins because he is a sinner. And when I understand this, the implications and applications are profound.

First, an understanding of the depravity of man affects me parentally - how I view my kids and the way I raise my family. To understand that a baby comes into the world as a sinner and not as an innocent little person who is bruised by culture or infected by civilization makes me realize that as great as he is and as much joy as she brings, they’re sinners just like me.

Second, an understanding of the depravity of man affects me politically. Communism made great strides as Karl Marx insisted there should be a comradeship, a brotherhood between all men because men are basically, intrinsically good. The Bible says men are basically, intrinsically bad. That is why Communism ultimately collapsed. Capitalism survived because it is actually based on the depravity of man - that man is greedy and will only work to the degree that he is personally rewarded.

Third, an understanding of the depravity of man affects how I see myself personally. In Romans 7, Paul declared, “In my flesh dwells no good thing.” Therefore, I don’t have to be shocked or down on myself when I am aware of sin within me. Instead, I can say, “Lord, have mercy on me. Lord, take it from me. Lord, deal with me because I know the sin deep within me will destroy me and my family.”

But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. - Romans 5:8

An understanding of my own depravity actually gives me a great deal of security because I realize who I am and how much God loves me.

Because leprosy that covered a person from head to foot was not active, such a one was pronounced clean. So too, when I realize I am a sinner from head to toe, from top to bottom - that I can’t cover my sin, defend myself, explain away my behavior, or justify my actions - then I am on my way to being pronounced clean.

Confession is a real key to salvation . . .

“I was conceived in sin,” David said (see Psalm 51:5).

“Woe is me!” Isaiah cried, “for I am undone” (Isaiah 6:5).

“I have sinned,” the Prodigal confessed (Luke 15:18).

Confession alone, however, does not guarantee salvation . . .

“I have sinned against the LORD,” Pharaoh declared (Exodus 10:16).

“I have sinned,” Saul admitted (1 Samuel 15:24).

“I have betrayed innocent blood,” Judas confessed (Matthew 27:4).

None of these confessions resulted in salvation. You see, while confession is indeed a key to salvation, the motive for confession is important as well. The second group of men were confessing because they knew they had been caught; the first group confessed because godly sorrow had worked in them a true heart of repentance (2 Corinthians 7:10).

When a leper was cured of leprosy, two birds were to be used in the cleansing ceremony. One bird was to be killed in an earthen vessel. The remaining bird would be dipped in the blood of the first. Why? One bird would depict the death of our Savior, our Redeemer. But the story doesn’t end there. He ascended to Heaven. He rose again. So a second bird was needed to complete the illustration. After being dipped in the blood of the first bird, the second bird was allowed to fly away free. After Jesus died on the Cross, the book of Hebrews tells us He took His blood into Heaven and sprinkled it in the sanctuary of Heaven (9:12–14). Thus, the analogy is perfect.

The Resurrection is the hinge on which the door of our faith swings, for if there was no Resurrection, Paul was right: we are of all men most miserable (1 Corinthians 15:19).

The Resurrection is essential because it provides proof for us. “Show us a sign to validate Your claims,” Jesus’ contemporaries demanded.

“Destroy this body, and in three days, I’ll rise again,” Jesus answered (see John 2:19). And indeed that continues to be the sign that sets Him apart from all others.

Second, the Resurrection tells us He’s present with us. On that first Easter Sunday, Jesus’ followers weren’t rejoicing in theological implications or dispensational ramifications but simply in the fact that their friend - the One who had calmed the storm and fed them, the One who had healed and loved them - was with them once again. And the same is true for every believer. What storm is raging around you today? What leprosy is nibbling at you? What problem is pressing down heavily on your soul? You can cast all those cares upon Jesus, for He’s with you even now.

Finally, the Resurrection reminds us that He’s praying for us. Jesus ever lives to make intercession for us (Hebrews 7:25). Therefore, if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father (1 John 2:1). How does He win His case? Revelation 12 tells us the accuser of our souls is overcome by the blood. That’s why, in our text, the leper was sprinkled seven times, for seven is the number of perfection, of completion.

The sparrow of our salvation left His nest in Heaven to lodge in a tree called Calvary, to die in place of you and me. But the story doesn’t end there. Because He took His blood into Heaven to cleanse each of us, we can come boldly before God no matter how inadequate, how unworthy, or how leprous we feel (Hebrews 4:16).

Only four groups of people were anointed with oil upon the head: kings, prophets, priests . . . and lepers. Isn’t that just like the Lord to include lepers in such an august group?

Every day, she made her way to the stream to draw enough water for the two large pots she would carry half a mile back to the manor. Because one of the pots was cracked, by the time she arrived, only a pot and a half were full. After a few years, the cracked pot said, “I’m not worthy. I try to be. I want to be. I mean to be. But I never come through. I only make it half way. Why didn’t you discard me long ago?”

“I want to show you something,” the servant girl replied. And she took the pots on the walk again. “What do you see?”

“All kinds of flowers,” the pot answered.

“That’s right,” the girl said. “They’re there because every day, without you even knowing it, you watered the ground so they could grow.”

I think we all feel like cracked pots. We want to do good, but it seems we never do. But here’s what we need to know: lepers were anointed to be the bouquet of grace. Lepers like us are producing something in which our Master delights. Sure, there’s an anointing on the king and the prophet and the priest. But there’s an anointing on the cleansed leper as well, if for no other reason than to be a trophy of God’s grace.