The construction of the tabernacle proceeds “from harmony to harmony” through “all the compass of its notes” until finally it closes with the full chords of a splendid diapason.
The fullness of time—the octave, the Eighth Day, has come, and the building in all its beauty and magnificence is erect, every inch of it bearing in mystic heraldry some divine principle; the august presence of the Shekinah arising out of it far into sky. The enormous multitudes of the whole nation of Israel, with their chiefs and elders, and their six-hundred thousand warriors, surge around it. Far in the north sways the banner of the cherub over Daniel Ashur, and Naphtali: westward, southward, and eastward wave the standards of the ox over Ephraim, of the man over Reuben, and of the lion over Judah. “With them rose a forest huge of spears, and thronging helms.”
As the people look, they see their inspired ruler, accompanied by the newly ordained high priest in his gorgeous symbolic robes, standing in the midst of the court of the tabernacle. The priest offers sacrifices and turns to the people, solemnly lifting his hand, to pronounce upon them the ineffable benediction of the Most High. Then the ruler and priest together “went into the tabernacle of the congregation, and came out, and blessed the people: and the glory of the Lord appeared unto all the people. And there came a fire out from before the Lord, and consumed upon the altar the burnt offering and the fat: which when all the people saw, they shouted, and fell on their faces! “
And all this was a shadow—not even a reflection but a shadow—of the things which were to come. What then must the substance be? We know this is entirely typical and that we possess the antitypes now and in the future through Christ. “In Him the shadows of the law Are all fulfilled and now withdraw.” In the Talmud one of the emperors impugns the character of the Hebrews' God because He “stole from Adam a rib.” Said the daughter of Rabbi Gamaliel in reply, “A thief came in the night and stole a silver vase.” “Bad,” said the emperor. “But he left a golden one,” said she. “Good,” said the emperor, “I wish he would come every night.” “So,” said the Rabbi's daughter, “If Jehovah took the rib away, He left Eve.” If God takes anything away it is to give us something better. If He takes the shadow, He gives the substance. Yet there are those who cling to the old shadow rather than the substance, those who prefer the rites of the law to the realities of the gospel. Like Narcissus they tall in love with a mere reflection and pine away. Like the dog, they drop the food they have, to grasp at that visionary and transient similitude in the unstable water. Beware of the spirit of Narcissus. “Beware of dogs.”
For all these things were types of that which Christ was coming to accomplish. There was no other way of explaining that to human minds except by means of these types, just as we teach children by toy-symbols in the kindergarten. But they are not to remain always in the kindergarten. When they have learned the lesson, the toys which have served so useful a purpose are forever put away, and the pupils grow up to deal with realities (for the most part invisible and intangible). The case is reversed then. Instead of dealing by means of physical objects with invisible and intangible things, the mind has been trained to deal with vast physical interests by means of abstract and theoretical thoughts. The merchant never sees the property that he buys and sells all day long—except perhaps shall samples of merchandise occasionally. The diplomatist does not see the countries and nationalities concerning which he labors all his lifetime —though he may have seen scraps of some of them.
Before entering the tabernacle, Aaron offered all the sacrifices prescribed by the law. That expressed in figure Christ “offering Himself” in all the aspects symbolized in the four offerings referred to— “Sacrifice and offering [i.e., peace and meat offerings] and burnt offerings and offerings for sin Thou wouldest not, neither hadst pleasure therein, which are offered by the law... Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God!—He taketh away the first [i. e. the type] that He may establish the second" [the antitype]. Briefly, the meat offering was a kind of loaf of fine flour burnt on the altar, or baken in a pan. There was no death involved, and it expresses the offering of the perfect earthly existence of our Lord Jesus Christ up to God in continuous daily devotion, during which He was searched and tried by the fiery ordeals of human life. The fine flour is His unsullied nature; the oil signifies the Holy Spirit which He possessed; the salt is truth. The other three sacrifices involved the death of the victim. The sin offering was required in expiation for sin; “He bare our sins in His own body on the tree.” In the peace offering then God and the forgiven sinner find a communion of satisfaction and enjoyment in the contemplation of the sacrifice of Christ. This is a very wonderful figure; yet it would be hard to say that it is more wonderful than any of the others. In the aspect of the burnt offering, the divine Priest has offered Himself spontaneously and entirely—absolutely, spirit, soul and body—in life and death, in devotion to God. All these aspects of sacrifice were either culminated or fulfilled –unitedly yet distinctly—in the cross of our blessed Redeemer. In all there are, to be more precise, five sacrifices, which number corresponds to the number of human responsibility. The trespass offering is however a second phase of the sin offering. Broadly, sin is the abstract pollution, and trespass is a concrete action which violates the rights of others and consequently necessitates indemnity. The reason why so much difficulty has been found in distinguishing them is, I believe, because the two things overlap each other so much and are as difficult to limit precisely as body and mind, or soul and spirit.
When all the work of the sacrifice has been completed, the Priest and Ruler in the act of blessing the people passes within the tabernacle out of sight. That was the last attitude in which His assembled disciples have seen their Lord. “While He blessed them, He was parted from them and carried up into heaven." His people stood there gazing, wondering, worshipping, and have been waiting ever since for Him to appear, “He Who with hands uplifted, Went from this earth below, Shall come again all gifted, His blessings to bestow.” These are the two great events since the crucifixion which obliterate all other records. Moses and Aaron (typifying Christ in His regal and sacerdotal characters) while blessing the people “WENT IN and CAME OUT.” Everything occurring between, though it should comprehend “all the farre stretched greatnesse, all the pride, crueltie and ambition of men is drawne together and covered over with these two narrow words, Hic jacet!” and its history written in the one little word “and.” In the sight of God, in comparison with the entrance of Christ into heaven after His accomplished work and his coming forth again to judge and bless the world, all human events for nineteen centuries are only worthy of a copulative conjunction.