Our Treasure

Passage: Exodus 38:21-31

I have a friend who worked for a Christian mission in the Philippines for a year. He lived and worked with people who had far less than the poorest people he knew here. He once observed that everyone he met there had two outfits. The first tended to be plain, well-worn, and utilitarian. It was the outfit worn Monday through Saturday. The second was brightly-colored, impeccable and well-preserved – lavish, by local standards. It was reserved for Sunday morning worship. My friend observed the paradox of people who scrounged for food owning outfits that cost the same as months’ worth of groceries – and wearing them only once a week. It didn't seem to make sense to set aside such a significant portion of one’s livelihood for worship.

It doesn't make sense that the Israelites, a poor, displaced and nomadic people, invest all their capital in a worship tent. Chapters 35-39 of Exodus provide painstaking detail about the design and construction of the Tabernacle and its contents. The end of Chapter 38 lists simply the raw materials that went into the project. Rare wood; precious stones; hundreds of pounds of gold and silver – much of the earthly wealth of a people who had very little. Wouldn’t it make more sense for the Israelites to save up these materials until they reached the Promised Land? Wouldn’t their wealth be better invested in food and water, agricultural supplies and municipal infrastructure? It’s not that creating a worship space for God was a waste, but shouldn’t the people’s needs be met first?

An essential part of the story of the Israelites’ wilderness journey is God’s miraculous provision. The Israelites don’t hold on to their gold to meet their needs because their needs have already been met – food, water, shelter, protection - God provides it all. At the end of their trip it is even noted that God kept their clothes and sandals from wearing out. God gives his people what they need. Any possessions they carry with them are extras – unnecessary luxuries.

So the Israelites offer their extra back to God. They build a tent for God that makes their tents look plain. They clothe their priests in garments that make theirs look shabby. They do so to show the world their true treasure. No one who might encounter the Israelites would have any doubt that God is their treasure.

What do people conclude when they encounter you? What do your clothes, your vehicles, and your home say about your treasure? Is there a way that God’s people today can declare to the world, “My treasure is something else; someone else; somewhere else”? How can we show the world that our treasure is God?

Our Stand-In

Passage: Matthew 27:15-26

Barabbas is a murderer. He deserves to be punished to the full extent of the law. Yet one strange day, due to some bizarre twist of fate, he finds himself off the hook.

We don’t know anything about Barabbas. He could have been a sociopath – a remorseless monster. He could have been a calculating career criminal. He could have been a guy who grew up in poverty, and wandered into a life of crime because he didn’t have a better option. Who knows? And who knows why the Gospel accounts are sparse in their treatment of Barabbas.

Here’s one way to explain it. In the story of Jesus’ trial, Barabbas is the guy whose place Jesus takes. Barabbas is slated for execution. Yet against any odds he gets bumped off the cross to make room for this other guy. This guy who obviously doesn’t deserve it – not the way Barabbas does.

Barabbas is us. The one that deserves punishment, but gets bumped at the last minute. The ones who run away from the prison, hammer strokes reverberating in our ears.

In the Gospels we’re never told what happens to Barabbas. Does he return to his life of crime? Or does he take advantage of his second chance? That's a question we have to answer. What are you going to do with your second chance?

Reflecting the Glory

Passage: Exodus 34:29-35

A pastor I know was checking into a motel when the desk clerk, a man in his early 20’s, said, “At the risk of being too forward, can I ask you what you do for a living?” My acquaintance said, “I’m a pastor.” The clerk then said, “I know.” The pastor, a little taken aback said, “Did that show up in my credit card info?”

“No.”

“Is it the way I’m dressed?”

“No.”

“Is it my Ned Flander-ish vibe?”

“Nope,” said the clerk, “you radiate the Holy Spirit.”

My friend didn't know what to say to that. And he walked away from the conversation more than a little freaked out. But it got him thinking. How is it that you could “radiate the Holy Spirit”? And if you did, might there be people who could actually perceive it?

After spending an intense time with God on Mt. Sinai, Moses is said to have been impossible to look at. His face shone like the high beams of an oncoming car. He had to wear a veil to keep from blinding (and terrifying) the people around him. The time Moses spent in the very presence of God changed him. Moses began to reflect God’s glory.

Time spent in the presence of God changes you. This change can be so subtle you don’t notice it happening: A growing amount of patience for situations and people that used to drive you nuts; increased compassion for people whose shortcomings might have offended or inconvenienced you; a heightened sense of God’s will and a greater willingness to follow it. The change can be so radical that you and the people around you can’t mistake it: Freedom from an addiction you thought was unshakeable; adoption of a vocabulary free of the profanity that used to be automatic; loss of interest in behaviors or forms of entertainment that you didn’t want to let go.

Many who decide to adopt a daily, intensive program of reading or Bible study are initially disappointed. The improvement in quality of life they anticipated isn’t immediately perceptible. But those who stick with it later recognize the ways their time spent with God changes not their lives, but themselves. The purpose of reading through the Bible systematically is not primarily to know more about the Bible's content. It’s to spend time daily in the presence of God. If you do so, you will be changed. You will begin, in subtle but significant ways, to do what you were created to do: reflect God’s glory.

Coming Clean

Passage: Psalm 32

Our four-year-old daughter is, it seems, incapable of dishonesty or deceit. She says exactly what she’s thinking or feeling at any given moment. This is delightful when she’s visiting a new place; awkward when she gets a gift she’s not crazy about; and convenient when she breaks a rule. In respect to the latter, there have been numerous occasions on which she’s come to us to tell us she has (for example) pushed her younger sister, written on herself with marker, or pulled all the toilet paper off the roll.

What we’ve come to recognize is that she is unable to live with the tension of an unconfessed transgression. Our daughter can’t stand knowing she’s done something that will eventually get her into trouble. She prefers to come clean and get it all in the open right away. Keeping it inside is usually punishment enough for her.

At four years of age our daughter already knows something it takes many of us a lifetime to learn. She intuitively possesses a fragment of wisdom celebrated by David, the man after God’s own heart. This piece of wisdom is the subject of Psalm 32: the joy of coming clean.

Psalm 32 is a testament to the benefits of living in right relationship with God. Foremost among these benefits is knowing that one’s sins have been forgiven. David, a man well aware of his own shortcomings, recognizes that the only way he can be made right is by an act of God. David knows the toll that unconfessed sin takes on his heart, soul, mind and strength. David has discovered the relief of laying bare his sin and casting himself upon the mercy of God. In turn David testifies that God’s mercy is abundant. That rather than expose his children to shame, God offers them a hiding place. David invites his fellow children to trust God’s mercy and take refuge in him. Don’t bear the burden of your sin, says David to all God's children throughout history. Come clean.