But, besides the moral worth attaching always to the act of doing what we are told to do, there was also a special dignity belonging to the work of a Merarite, even though that work was merely attending to a few “pins” or “sockets.” Every thing connected with the tabernacle was of the very deepest interest and highest value. There was not, in the whole world, any thing to be compared with that boarded tent with all its mystic belongings. It was a holy dignity and privilege to be allowed to touch the smallest pin that formed a part of that wonderful tabernacle in the wilderness. It was more glorious, by far, to be a Merarite looking after the pins of the tabernacle, than to wield the sceptre of Egypt or Assyria. True, that Merarite, according to the import of his name, might seem a poor “sorrowful” laboring man; but oh! his labor stood connected with the dwelling-place of the Most High God, the possessor of heaven and earth. His hands handled the things which were the patterns of things in the heavens. Every pin, every socket, every curtain, and every covering was a shadow of good things to come—a foreshadowing of Christ.

We do not mean to assert that the poor laboring Merarite or Gershonite understood these things. This is not, by any means, the point. We can understand them. It is our privilege to bring all these things—the tabernacle and its mystic furniture—under the brilliant light of the New Testament, and there read Christ in all.

While, therefore, we predicate nothing as to the measure of intelligence possessed by the Levites in their respective work, we, at the same time, may say, with confidence, that it was a very precious privilege to be allowed to touch and handle, and bear through the wilderness, the earthly shadows of heavenly realities. Moreover, it was a special mercy to have the authority of a “Thus saith the Lord” for every thing they put their hand to. Who can estimate such a mercy—such a privilege? Each member of that marvelous tribe of workers had his own particular line of things marked out by God’s hand and superintended by God’s priest. It was not each doing what he liked himself, nor one man running in the wake of another, but all bowing to the authority of God, and doing precisely what they were told to do. This was the secret of order throughout the eight thousand five hundred and eighty workers (Chap. iv. 48.); and, we may say, with all possible confidence, it is the only true secret of order still. Why is it that we have so much confusion in the professing church? why such conflicting thoughts, feelings, and opinions? why such clashing one with another? why such crossing of each other’s path? Simply from the lack of entire and absolute submission to the Word of God. Our will is at work. We choose our own ways, instead of allowing God to choose for us. We want that attitude and temper of soul in the which all human thoughts (our own amongst them) shall be put down at what they are really worth, and God’s thoughts shall rise into full unqualified dominion.

This, we feel persuaded, is the grand desideratum—the crying want of the day in which our lot is cast. Man’s will is every where gaining the ascendant. It is rising like a mighty tide, and bearing away those ancient barriers which have, in some measure, kept it in check. Many an old and time-honored institution is, at this moment, giving way before the rushing torrent; many an edifice, whose foundations, as we supposed, were laid deep down in the fond and reverent affections of the people, is giving way beneath the battering-ram of popular feeling. “Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.”

Such is, pre-eminently, the spirit of the age. What is the antidote? Subjection! Subjection to what? Is it to what is called the authority of the church? Is it to the voice of tradition? Is it to the commandments and doctrines of men? No, blessed be God; it is not to any of these things, nor to all of them put together. To what, then? To the voice of the living God—the voice of holy Scripture. This is the grand remedy for self-will on the one hand, and submission to human authority on the other. “We must obey,”—this is the answer to self-will: “We must obey God,”—this is the answer to mere bowing down to human authority. We see these two elements all around us. The former—self-will, resolves itself into infidelity; the latter—subjection to man, resolves itself into superstition. These two will bear sway over the whole civilized world. They will carry away all, save those who are divinely taught to say and feel and act upon that immortal sentence, “We must obey God rather than man.”

It was this that enabled the Gershonite in the wilderness to look after those rough, unattractive-looking “badger-skins,” and that enabled the Merarite to look after these apparently insignificant “pins.” Yes, and it is this which will enable the Christian now to address himself to that special line of service to which his Lord may see fit to call him. What though, to human eyes, it seems rough and unattractive, mean and insignificant; it is enough for us that our Lord has assigned us our post and given us our work, and that our work has direct reference to the Person and glory of Him who is the chiefest among ten thousand and altogether lovely. We, too, may have to confine ourselves to the antitype of the rough, unsightly badger-skin, or the insignificant pin. But let us remember that whatever has reference to Christ—His name, His Person, His cause—in the world, is unspeakably precious to God. It may be very small in man’s account, but what of that? We must look at things from God’s point of view, we must measure them by His standard, and that is, Christ. God measures every thing by Christ. Whatever has even the very smallest reference to Christ is interesting and important in God’s account; whereas the most splendid undertakings, the most gigantic schemes, the most astonishing enterprises, of the men of this world, all pass away like the morning cloud and the early dew. Man makes self his centre, his object, his standard. He values things according to the measure in which they exalt himself and further his interests. Even religion itself, so called, is taken up in the same way, and made a pedestal on which to display himself. Every thing, in short, is worked up as capital for self, and used as a reflector to throw light upon and call attention to that one object. Thus there is a mighty gulf between God’s thoughts and man’s thoughts, and the shores of that gulf are as far apart as Christ and self. All that belongs to Christ is of eternal interest and moment: all that belongs to self shall pass away and be forgotten. Hence, therefore, the most fatal mistake into which any man can fall is to make self his object. It must issue in everlasting disappointment. But on the other hand, the very wisest, safest, best thing that any man can do, is to make Christ his one absorbing object. This must infallibly issue in everlasting blessedness and glory.

Beloved reader, pause here a moment, and commune with thine own heart and conscience. It seems to us, at this point, that we have a sacred responsibility to discharge in reference to thy soul. We are penning these lines in the solitude of our chamber at Bristol, and you may, perchance, read them in the solitude of thy chamber in New Zealand, Australia, or some other distant spot. We would therefore remember that our object is not to write a book, nor yet merely to expound Scripture. We desire to be used of God in the blessed work of dealing with thy very inmost soul. Permit us, therefore, to put this solemn and pointed question home to thee: What is thy object? Is it Christ, or self? Be honest with thyself before the almighty and all-seeing Searcher of hearts. Sit in stern judgment upon thyself, as in the very light of the divine presence. Be not deceived by any gilding or false coloring. God sees below the surface of things, and He would have thee to do so likewise. He presents Christ to thee, in contrast with all beside. Hast thou accepted Him? Is He thy wisdom, thy righteousness, thy sanctification, and thy redemption? Canst thou say, without hesitation, “My Beloved is mine, and I am His”? Search and see. Is this a thoroughly settled point, deep down in the very depths of thy soul? If so, art thou making Christ thy exclusive object? art thou measuring every thing by Him?

Ah, dear friend, these are searching questions. Be assured we do not put them to thee without feeling their edge and power for ourselves. As God is our witness, we do feel, though in a very small degree, their weight and seriousness. We are deeply and thoroughly convinced that nothing will stand save that which is connected with Christ; and moreover, that the very smallest matter which refers, however remotely, to Him is of commanding interest in the judgment of heaven. If we may be permitted to awaken a sense of this in any heart, or to deepen the sense where it has been awakened, we shall feel we have not penned this volume in vain.

We must now, ere closing this lengthened section, glance for a few moments at the Kohathites and their work.

“And the Lord spake unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying, ‘Take the sum of the sons of Kohath from among the sons of Levi, after their families, by the house of their fathers, from thirty years old and upward even until fifty years old, all that enter into the host, to do the work in the tabernacle of the congregation. This shall be the service of the sons of Kohath in the tabernacle of the congregation, about the most holy things: and when the camp setteth forward, Aaron shall come, and his sons, and they shall take down the covering vail, and cover the ark of testimony with it: and shall put thereon the covering of badgers’ skins, and shall spread over it a cloth wholly of blue, and shall put in the staves thereof. And upon the table of show-bread they shall spread a cloth of blue, and put thereon the dishes, and the spoons, and the bowls, and covers to cover withal: and the continual bread shall be thereon: and they shall spread upon them a cloth of scarlet, and cover the same with a covering of badgers’ skins, and shall put in the staves thereof. And they shall take a cloth of blue, and cover the candlestick of the light, and his lamps, and his tongs, and his snuff-dishes, and all the oil vessels thereof, wherewith they minister unto it; and they shall put it and all the vessels thereof within a covering of badgers’ skins, and shall put it upon a bar. And upon the golden altar they shall spread a cloth of blue, and cover it with a covering of badgers’ skins, and shall put to the staves thereof: and they shall take all the instruments of ministry, wherewith they minister in the sanctuary, and put them in a cloth of blue, and cover them with a covering of badgers’ skins, and shall put them on a bar: and they shall take away the ashes from the altar, and spread a purple cloth thereon: and they shall put upon it all the vessels thereof, wherewith they minister about it, even the censers, the flesh-hooks, and the shovels, and the basons, all the vessels of the altar; and they shall spread upon it a covering of badgers’ skins, and put to the staves of it. And when Aaron and his sons have made an end of covering the sanctuary, and all the vessels of the sanctuary, as the camp is to set forward; after that, the sons of Kohath shall come to bear it: but they shall not touch any holy thing, lest they die. These things are the burden of the sons of Kohath in the tabernacle of the congregation.’” (Chap. iv. 1-15.)

Here we see what precious mysteries were committed to the charge of the Kohathites. The ark, the golden table, the golden candlestick, the golden altar, and the altar of burnt-offering—all these were shadows of good things to come—the patterns of things in the heavens—the figures of the true—the types of Christ, in His Person, His work, and His offices, as we have sought to show in our “Notes on Exodus.” (Chap. xxiv.-xxx.) They are here presented in the wilderness, and, if we may be allowed the expression, in their traveling-dress. With the exception of the ark of the covenant, all these things presented the one unvarying appearance to the human eye, namely, the rough covering of the badgers’ skins. With the ark there was this difference, that above the badgers’ skins there was “a cloth wholly of blue,” setting forth, doubtless, the entirely heavenly character of the Lord Jesus Christ in His own divine Person. That which was essentially heavenly in Him lay upon the very surface of His blessed life here below. He was the entirely heavenly Man—“the Lord from heaven.” Underneath this covering of blue were the badgers’ skins, which may be viewed as the expression of that which protects from evil. The ark was the only thing that was covered in this peculiar manner.

With regard to “the table of show-bread,” which was a type of our Lord Jesus Christ in His connection with the twelve tribes of Israel, there was first “a cloth of blue,” and then “a cloth of scarlet;” and over all, the badgers’ skins. In other words, there was that which is essentially heavenly; then that which expresses human splendor; and above all, that which protects from evil. It is the purpose of God that Israel’s twelve tribes shall be pre-eminent in the earth—that in them the very highest type of human splendor shall be exhibited. Hence the appropriateness of the “scarlet” covering on the table of show-bread. The twelve loaves evidently point to the twelve tribes; and as to the scarlet color, the reader has only to look through Scripture in order to see that it sets forth that which man considers splendid.

The coverings of the golden candlestick and of the golden altar were identical, namely, first, the heavenly covering, and then the external badgers’ skin. In the candlestick we see our Lord Christ in connection with the work of the Holy Ghost in light and testimony. The golden altar shows us Christ and the preciousness of His intercession—the fragrance and value of what He is before God. Both these, when passing along the sand of the desert, were wrapped up in that which was heavenly, and protected above by the badgers’ skins.

Finally, in reference to the brazen altar, we observe a marked distinction. It was covered with “purple” instead of “blue” or “scarlet.” Why was this? Doubtless because the brazen altar prefigured Christ as the One who “suffered for sins,” and who shall therefore wield the sceptre of royalty. “Purple” is the royal color. The One who suffered in this world shall reign; the One who wore the crown of thorns shall wear the crown of glory. Hence the moral fitness of the “purple” covering on the brazen altar—for on that altar the victim was offered. We know there is nothing in Scripture without its own divine meaning, and it is our privilege as well as our duty to seek to know the meaning of all that our God has graciously written for our learning. This, we believe, can only be reached by humble, patient, prayerful waiting upon Him. The One who has penned the book knows perfectly the scope and object of the book as a whole, and of each division of the book in particular. This will have the effect of checking the unhallowed flights of the imagination. The Spirit of God alone can open Scripture to our souls. “God is His own interpreter” in revelation as well as in providence, and the more we lean on Him, in true self-emptiness, the deeper insight we shall have both into His Word and ways.

We would therefore say to the Christian reader, Take the first fifteen verses of Numbers iv. and read them in the presence of God. Ask Him to explain to thee the meaning of each clause—the meaning of the ark, and why it alone was covered with “a cloth wholly of blue.” And so of all the rest. We have ventured, we trust in humility of mind, to suggest the meaning; but we earnestly desire that thou shouldst get it directly from God for thyself, and not accept it merely from man. We confess we are terribly afraid of imagination; and we know not that we have ever sat down to write on sacred Scripture with a deeper sense of this, that none but the Holy Ghost can really explain it.

Thou wilt say, then, Why sit down to write at all? Well, it is with the fond hope of being permitted, in some feeble manner, to help the earnest student of Scripture to catch sight of the rare and exquisite gems that lie scattered along the inspired page, so that he may pick them up for himself. Thousands of readers might read, again and again, the fourth of Numbers, and not even perceive the fact that the ark was the only part of the mystic furniture of the tabernacle that did not exhibit the badger-skin. And if the simple fact be not laid hold of, how can its import be seen? So also as to the brazen altar, how many have failed to notice that it alone put on the “purple”!

Now, we may rest assured that both these facts are full of spiritual meaning. The ark was the very highest manifestation of God, and therefore we may understand why it should exhibit, at first sight, that which was purely heavenly. The brazen altar was the place where sin was judged—it typified Christ in His work as a Sin-bearer—it set forth that most distant place to which He traveled for us; and yet that brazen altar was the only thing that was wrapped in royal covering. Can aught be more exquisite than the teaching here? What infinite wisdom in all these fine distinctions! The ark conducts us to the very highest point in heaven; the brazen altar conducts us to the lowest point on earth. They stood at extreme points in the tabernacle. In the former, we see the One who magnified the law; in the latter, we see the One who was made sin. In the one, that which was heavenly was seen at the first sight; and it was only when you looked deeper, you saw the badger-skin; and deeper still, that mysterious vail, the type of Christ’s flesh: but in the other, the first thing you saw was the badger-skin; and deeper down, the royal covering. We see Christ in each, though in a different aspect. In the ark, we have Christ maintaining the glory of God; in the brazen altar, we have Christ meeting the sinner’s need. Blessed combination for us!

But further, has the reader noticed that in the entire of this marvelous passage to which we have been calling his particular attention there is no mention of a certain piece of furniture which we know, from Exodus xxx. and other scriptures, occupied a very important place in the tabernacle: We allude to the brazen laver. Why is this omitted in Numbers iv? It is more than probable that some of our keen-eyed rationalists would find here what they would pronounce an error—a defect—a discrepancy. But is it so? No, thank God! The devout Christian student knows full well that such things are wholly incompatible with the volume of God. He knows and confesses this, even though he may not be able to account for the absence of this or the presence of that particular thing in any given passage. But just in so far as we are enabled, through the mercy of God, to see the spiritual reason of things, do we always find that where the rationalist sees or affects to see flaws, the pious student sees brilliant gems.

Thus it is, we doubt not, in reference to the omission of the brazen laver from the catalogue in Numbers iv. It is only one of the ten thousand illustrations of the beauty and perfectness of the inspired volume.

But, the reader may inquire, why is the laver omitted? The reason may be found in the double fact of what that laver was made from, and what it was made for. This double fact we have noticed in Exodus. The laver was made of the looking-glasses of the women who assembled at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation. (Ex. xxxviii. 8.) This was its material. And as to its object, it was provided as a means of purification for man. Now, in all those things which formed the special burden and charge of the Kohathites, we see only the varied manifestations of God in Christ, from the ark, in the holiest of all, to the brazen altar, in the court of the tabernacle: and inasmuch as the laver was not a manifestation of God, but a purification for man, it is therefore not found in the custody and charge of the Kohathites.

But we must now leave the reader to meditate alone on this most profound section of our book. (Chap. iii. and iv.) It is really inexhaustible. We might go on expatiating upon it until we had filled volumes instead of pages, and after all, we should feel as though we had barely penetrated the surface of a mine whose depth never can be sounded—whose treasures never can be exhausted. What human pen can bring out the marvelous instruction contained in the inspired account of the tribe of Levi? Who can attempt to unfold that sovereign grace which shines in the fact that the self-willed Levi should be the very first to respond to that soul-stirring call, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” Who can speak aright of that rich, abounding, distinguishing mercy illustrated in the fact that those whose hands had been imbued in blood should be permitted to handle the vessels of the sanctuary; and that those into whose assembly God’s Spirit could not enter should be brought into the very bosom of the congregation of God, there to be occupied with that which was so precious to Him?

And then those three divisions of workers—Merarites, Gershonites, and Kohathites; what instruction is here! what a type of the various members of the Church of God, in their various service! what depth of mysterious wisdom in all this! Is it speaking too strongly—is it too much, to say that nothing, at this moment, so deeply impresses us as the sense of the utter feebleness and poverty of all that we have advanced on one of the very richest sections of the inspired volume? Still we have conducted the reader to a mine of infinite depth and richness, and we must leave him to penetrate thereinto by the gracious aid of Him to whom the mine belongs, and who alone is able to evolve its wealth. All that man can write or say on any portion of God’s Word can, at best, be but suggestive: to speak of it as exhaustive would be to cast a slight upon the sacred canon. May we tread the holy place with unshod feet, and be as those who inquire in the temple, and whose studies are perfumed by the spirit of worship.[5]