The separations of the tabernacle

The interfaces between the various spaces of the tabernacle are carefully designed to separate the places, to isolate them so that the unholiness of Israel cannot come in contact with the holiness of God. One curtain or "veil" separates the inner room, the most holy place, from the outer room, the holy place. As we have argued, it signifies the inaccessibility of God generally, but more particularly the fact that the highest heaven, the immediate throne room of God, is distinct from the visible sky and cannot be seen.

A second curtain separates the holy place from the courtyard. From an Israelite point of view it signifies the inaccessibility even of the visible heaven. Human beings cannot climb to heaven. But the curtains are both separations and doorways, inasmuch as the high priest can pass through even the first curtain once a year. The second curtain is an imperfect replica of the first.

Remember now that the courtyard represents the earth. The tabernacle, that is the two rooms taken together, is filled with the gold of heavenly royalty, while the courtyard has only bronze furnishings. But does not the tabernacle touch the courtyard by resting on the earth of the courtyard? It does not. Sockets or bases made of silver hold up the entire tabernacle so that no part of its sides touches the courtyard. The silver sockets or bases function like a solid form of curtain to separate heaven from earth, or to separate God from human beings.

On the outside of the courtyard is a fence made of curtains. The curtains separate the common people of Israel from the courtyard. As such, they are a less exalted replica of the curtains of the tabernacle. Bases of bronze, corresponding to the bronze of the altar and the washing basin, separate them from direct contact with the earth. The posts have silver bands and hooks, corresponding to the silver bases of the tabernacle.

The symbolism seems to picture a situation in which the bottom tip of the tabernacle, that is the silver bases, fit into the top tip of the courtyard, that is, the silver bands and hooks. The tabernacle proper is a kind of upper story to the courtyard. Such is a fitting symbolism for a replica of heaven placed in the middle of the courtyard, which in turn is a replica of earth. The tent pegs are all of bronze because they go directly into the ground of the courtyard (Exod. 27:19).

The dimensions of the courtyard also signify the perfection of architectural plan that we have already seen elsewhere. Each curtain is 5 cubits by 5 cubits, replicating the square shape of the 10 by 10 curtains that separate the tabernacle rooms. The courtyard as a whole is 50 cubits by 100 cubits by 5 cubits high, replicating the horizontal shape of the holy place. The starting dimension of five is the same as the horizontal dimensions of the bronze altar, thus indicating that the courtyard is a replica of the altar, which in turn replicates elements of the tabernacle proper. But five also suggests a half value, half of ten, a kind of incompleteness in relation to the complete spatial dimension of ten. This incompleteness is remedied in the temple, when all the dimensions are doubled. These things symbolize the fact that Israel and its communion with God is incomplete until they rest in the promised land. In the temple the washing basin is transformed into a "sea," confirming our guess about the significance of the washing basin.

The eastern side of the courtyard is composed of three parts (cf. Exod. 27:13-16). In the center is an entrance 20 cubits wide. To the two sides are two fences each 15 cubits long. Even these dimensions are distantly related to other dimensions used at other places. The 20 cubits is the same as the length of the holy place, while the 15 cubit dimension is half the amount of the 30-cubit-long tabernacle, and 10 times the width of the ark. The entrance to the courtyard on the east has a curtain of material similar to the two main curtains of the tabernacle, thus replicating them.

The remaining separation is the separation of the vertical sides of the tabernacle from the surrounding courtyard. Not merely a curtain but several layers are added, signifying that there is only one way into the presence of God, the way God himself has provided. "Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). Likewise Jesus says, "I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father but by me" (John 14:6).

The tabernacle is supported by frames overlaid with gold, each 10 cubits by one and one half cubits. The 10 cubit dimension matches the dimensions of the most holy place, while the one and one half cubit dimension matches the width of the ark. The frames taken together form a complete layer, suggesting to the person inside them not a tent but a house of gold. Thus the nature of the structure points forward to the permanency of the temple, the solid house that Solomon will build. It also pictures the stability of the larger "house" or dwelling place of God, the created universe itself. Several passages in the Bible liken God to a workman who in creating the universe builds a house. Amos speaks of him "who builds his lofty palace in the heavens and sets its foundation on the earth" (Amos 9:6). Proverbs says concerning wisdom,

I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep, when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the earth. Then I was the craftsman at his side[like Bezalel who crafted the tabernacle]. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in his whole world and delighting in mankind. (Prov. 8:27-31).

Outside the frames is the curtain of blue material. Actually the curtain is composed of ten distinct curtains, ten being the perfect spatial number of the most holy place (Exod. 26:1-6). Clasps of gold--gold corresponding to the royal majesty of the tabernacle--hold together two sets of five curtains each. The introduction of the number five begins to point outwards to the fundamental number five that occurs over and over again in the courtyard. Each curtain is twenty-eight cubits by four cubits, a little short in both dimensions, so that the curtains do not hang down low enough to touch the courtyard on either side of the tabernacle. Five curtains are sewn together, and the other five sewn together. Fifty loops and clasps of gold hold the two parts together, suggesting the dimension of 50 cubits in the courtyard. Thus certain minor elements in the curtains begin to suggest a transition to the outside courtyard. In addition, there is no denying that the total covering has two parts, carefully held together but with the potential of being separated. Of course, this technique would have made it much more convenient for the Levites to carry the covering from place to place, since they would not have had to carry the total weight of the covering in one operation. But it also creates the barest suggestion of a possibility of an entranceway being created. This possibility is more fully realized in the two main curtains separating the courtyard from the holy place and the holy place from the most holy place. Symbolically, all this arrangement anticipates the rending of the veil at the death of Christ (Matt. 27:51). At the same time, the firm holding together of the two parts suggests the way in which God constructs the world and his way to salvation as one whole, all parts being held together in Christ (Col. 1:17).

All these associations are of a vague, suggestive, allusive kind. Each detail of the tabernacle, in my opinion, is not simply a code-word signifying one thing exclusively. Rather, it is one part of a tantalizing visual poem suggesting a multitude of relationships, all tied together in a single structure. It is fitting that the symbolism of the tabernacle should be multifaceted. After all, such is the character of the physical universe: it is created by God as one whole, one universe, and also with a fascinating, overwhelming multitude of inner relations of the parts. Such also is the character of Christ, who as one person contains in himself "all the fullness of the Deity," a manifold richness of wisdom and love.

Let us continue to look at the details. A second covering of goat hair is placed over the blue curtain (Exod. 26:7-13). The pattern is basically the same as for the inner blue curtain, again suggesting the all-pervasiveness of replication. But certain imperfections are introduced. The material of the curtain is not royal blue of heaven, but goat skins, suggesting associations with the earthly sacrifices of the altar and the covering of the nakedness of sin by the skins of dead animals (Gen. 3:21). The covering is composed of 11 curtains, not 10, suggesting its imperfection. The additional curtain also makes it possible for the total covering to hang down an additional two cubits at the two ends, completely concealing the inside curtain from view. The manner of overlap between the curtains also prevents anyone outside from seeing the gold loops connecting the two parts of the inner covering of blue. The individual curtains are each 30 cubits long, so that an extra cubit of length on each side assures that the inner covering of blue will not be seen from the outside courtyard. Thus in several ways the goat-skin curtain not only separates the rooms from the outside but also separates the inner, heavenly curtain from the outside.

A third and fourth covering are briefly mentioned in Exod. 26:14. It is clear from the terminology and from the comparatively few references to them that these coverings do not constitute part of the tabernacle proper. Over the covering of goat skin was one of "ram skins dyed red" (Exod. 26:14). In view of the intense amount of replication in the tabernacle as a whole, it is clear that this red covering must signify the covering of animal blood separating the tabernacle from the contamination of the outside world.

We cannot be certain of the character of the outermost covering, because there is an unusual key word. The covering is made of "hides of sea cows" (NIV) or "porpoise skins" (NASB) or "badgers' skins" (KJV). The animal was clearly known to the Israelites, but we do not have enough information nowadays to be certain what animal it was. But the material was probably waterproof to keep off the rain. Either porpoises or sea cows would serve adequately. Keeping off the rain and dust was a very practical function. Yet it also suggests once again the intense separation of the tabernacle from the outer world. Even the rain and dust must not be allowed to penetrate.

The multifaceted character of tabernacle symbolism

The symbolism that we have uncovered so far may seem to be bewildering in its variety. Can the items and the measurements in the tabernacle really suggest so many different things? Are we in danger of being carried away or beguiled by our imaginations?

The tabernacle is first of all the dwelling place of God, as God himself says in Exod. 25:8. This much cannot be denied. Hence, we can expect it to reveal certain things about the character of God and the nature of his fellowship with his people. We at least know the most general area in which to look for clues to the meaning of the symbols. Yet the history of interpretation of tabernacle symbolism shows a great deal of variety and apparent arbitrariness in just how individual items have been interpreted. The danger of letting imagination go wild is a real one.

In my opinion, one major guideline is to be found in the general biblical teaching with respect to God and his dwelling place. God dwells in a special sense in heaven, as we have seen. Yet in a wider sense God is present everywhere. His character is displayed in the whole of his creation (Rom. 1:18-21). We may therefore proceed to categorize dwelling places of particular types.

(1) God dwells in heaven in the midst of his holy courtroom of angels and ministering spirits. (See, for example, 1 Kings 8:30; Isa. 6:1-2; Ps. 89:7; Job 1:6; Rev. 4:1-11.)

(2) The whole universe has been created in a manner like constructing a house (Ps. 104:2-3; Amos 9:6; Prov. 8:22-31; Isa. 40:22). God fills it all (Jer. 23:24) and in this sense it is his dwelling place.

(3) The tabernacle and later Solomon's temple are special dwellings of God. After their construction and dedication the cloud of glory descends on them to signify God taking up his abode (Exod. 40:34-38; 1 Kings 8:10).

(4) The Garden of Eden was a special dwelling of God where God met with Adam and Eve (cf. Gen. 2:15-3:8). Some of the symbolism of the tabernacle and the temple undoubtedly looks backward toward the lost communion with God that Adam had enjoyed in the Garden of Eden. The cherubim in the tabernacle are reminiscent of the cherubim guarding the way to the tree of life in Gen. 3:24.

(5) The people of God corporately become a dwelling place of God. Teaching of this kind becomes most explicit in the New Testament, where the church is called God's temple: "Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?" (1 Cor. 3:16; cf. 1 Pet. 2:5). But it is implicit in the Old Testament when the people of Israel are called a holy people by virtue of the fact that God dwells in their midst.

(6) The body of each individual saint is a dwelling place of God, according to 1 Cor. 6:15, 19. This teaching is fully revealed only in the New Testament. Beginning at Pentecost the Holy Spirit is sent to dwell within God's people in a special way, and only this coming of the Spirit makes people temples in a full sense. But the same truths are foreshadowed in the fact that in Israel the high priest's clothing is analogous to the tabernacle (see chapter 4). Thus the high priest is a kind of minitabernacle. Since the whole of Israel is a nation of priests (Exod. 19:5-6), each Israelite reflects the pattern of the high priest at a subordinate level. Moreover, Israelites were told to wear tassels on their clothes as a reminder of "all the commandments of the LORD" (Num. 15:37-40). These tassels are naturally associated not only with the holiness of the commandments but also with the blue of the tassel-like pomegranates attached to the hem of the high priest's robe (Exod. 28:33-34). Thus each Israelite is depicted as a subordinate priest.

(7) The new Jerusalem of Revelation 21-22 is the final dwelling of God with human beings (Rev. 21:3, 22). The new Jerusalem as a city primarily represents the people of God corporately. Hence it is the fulfillment of the principle that the people of God corporately are a dwelling of God (point 5 above). But the new Jerusalem is also a heavenly city (Rev. 21:2, 10), suggesting that it is also the fulfillment of God's dwelling in heaven (point 1). It has a exact cubical shape, the same shape as the Most Holy Place of the tabernacle, suggesting that it is the final tabernacle or temple (Rev. 21:16, 22). The mention of the river, the tree of life, and the removal of all curse in Rev. 22:1-3 suggest that it is also the new Eden, the final garden where God meets human beings. Thus many of the motifs concerning God's dwelling place are united and woven together in this final vision, just as we might expect to happen in a vision relating to the consummation or summing up of all things.

(8) Christ himself is the ultimate dwelling of God with human beings. Matt. 1:23 says that Christ is called "Immanuel," which means "God with us." In John 2:19-22 Jesus says, "Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days." And John comments, "But the temple he had spoken of was his body." John 1:14 says that the "Word was made flesh and dwelt among us" (KJV), deliberately using a word for "dwelling" that alludes to the Old Testament tabernacle. Finally, John 14:11 says, "I am in the Father and the Father is in me." This and similar language in John about the mutual indwelling of the Father and the Son presents us with the ultimate form of indwelling, namely the original indwelling of the persons of the Trinity. This original uncreated indwelling must be the model for all instances of God dwelling with human beings who are made in the image of God.

We can arrive at the same results by paying close attention to the Old Testament language of holiness. In a supreme sense, God himself is holy (Isa. 6:3). But other things can be called holy when they are dedicated to him and are associated with his presence. Thus heaven is holy according to Ps. 20:6. The tabernacle and the temple are holy, and the Most Holy Place ("holy of holies") is called such because it is closest to the immediate presence of God. Likewise, Eden is the mountain of God from which profane things are cast out, implying that it is holy (Ezek. 28:13, 16). The priests are holy and as such representative of the holiness of the tabernacle (Lev. 21:6). The people of God corporately are a "kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exod. 19:6). The new Jerusalem is the "holy city" (Rev. 21:2). Christ is supremely "the Holy One of God" (John 6:69; cf. Acts 3:14). Thus all these instances are dwelling places of God and reflections of his supreme holiness.

Because God is always the same and because sin is always the obstacle to communion with God's holiness, we may naturally expect that the same principles will be expressed again and again in each form of God's dwelling. In fact, since Christ is the supreme archetype for all of God's dwellings, all of them must be modeled on him. Hence there are bound to be connections between the tabernacle and other forms of God's dwelling. The tabernacle will naturally point us in several directions at once. Within the Old Testament, no one of these directions by itself reveals everything. That is, because the tabernacle ultimately points upward to God himself, and forward to the revelation of God in Christ, no one set of connections within the Old Testament ought to be viewed as a kind of exclusive clue to its significance. But when Christ appears, he himself sums up all the dimensions of significance, because "in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form" (Col. 2:9). Yet because of the infinite, divine depths of Christ's wisdom, we can never master or comprehend him in his fullness. Because he is Lord of all, he is himself the ultimate basis for unity in all the diverse connections.

Thus we must also realize that the tabernacle in itself cannot tell us everything. Its insufficiencies and its mysteries indicate that in its own time and place it did not exhaust the revelation of God but was only a stage on the way to fullness. In fact, the pattern of the tabernacle includes within itself notice of its temporary character. On the most elementary level, it is a portable, tent-like dwelling place. It therefore has to be succeeded by the temple, a permanent, fixed dwelling place, once the people have settled in the land. But in addition, the pattern of replication found in the tabernacle speaks of the dynamic character of God's revelation and of his program for history. The tabernacle is a replica of heaven, while the holy place a replica of the Most Holy Place, the courtyard a replica of the holy place, and even the people's tent dwellings are a replica of the tabernacle in a more distant way. These replicas move outward from a centerpoint in heaven to the prosaic everyday life of the people. The outward movement shows that there is yet more to be revealed--the tabernacle is only a copy of heavenly things (Heb. 8:5; 9:23; 10:1). The greater revelation of the future goes hand in hand with the accomplishment of God's program for history, namely to fill the whole world with his heavenly glory (Rev. 21:22-23). Then his will shall be done on earth as it is in heaven (Matt. 6:10).

Practical lessons from the tabernacle

In its own time, though the tabernacle did not say everything, it still said a great deal. It had some very practical lessons for the Israelites. To a large extent, they can still be lessons for us today as well.

First, because of its symbolic connection with heaven, the tabernacle reminded the Israelites that God was the true God, the exalted Lord of the whole universe, not simply a god confined to a local spot. God is the exalted, universal ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords. Likewise, we should recognize now that God our Father and Christ our Redeemer is the heavenly Lord, the Lord of all (Matt. 28:20; 1 Cor. 8:6). We must obey him and not be intimated by human claims to wisdom and power (1 Pet. 3:14-17).

Second, because the whole universe was God's house, the tabernacle depicted for the Israelites the way in which God's care was demonstrated in their day-to-day circumstances. Food, life, and light all derived from God who had made the whole universe as his dwelling place and their home. Likewise, we today are to see our circumstances and our daily blessings not as the product of some chance, impersonal process, but as the provision of our God and our Savior Jesus Christ. We are to pray to God to give us our daily bread (Matt. 6:11). We are to seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, with the confidence that all earthly needs will be ours as well (Matt. 6:33).

Third, the tabernacle as a unique structure reminded Israel that they had unique privileges. Out of all the nations of the world God chose them to be his people, and condescended to live among them in a special way (Exod. 19:5-6; Deut. 7:7-8). Likewise, in New Testament times God dwells in a unique way in the church (1 Cor. 3:16) and in individual Christians (1 Cor. 6:19; Rom. 8:9-17). This indwelling distinguishes us from the world at large. We are not be become proud, because God's favor is a gift to undeserving sinners (Rom. 5:6-10; 2 Tim. 1:9-10). But we are to thankful for our special status: we are children of the great King! We are to remember that as people chosen out of the world we are spiritually separate and are not to follow the ways of the world (John 15:19; 17:15-19; Eph. 2:1-10; 5:1-6:9; 1 Pet. 1:13-3:12).

Fourth, the tabernacle symbolized Eden, and thereby reminded the Israelites of their sinful, lost, separated condition as descendents of Adam. Entrance into Eden was barred to them. And yet they could enter in a sense, when the priest entered as their representative. Hence the tabernacle spoke both of being lost and also of the promise of overcoming sin through a representative man, ultimately through Jesus Christ our final high priest (Heb. 7:27-28). Like the Israelites we need to be reminded of the misery of our sinfulness deriving from Adam and of the hope--and now present reality1--of redemption, restoration, and adoption into God's family and house through Jesus Christ.

Fifth, the tabernacle symbolized the people of God corporately. Israel as a collective body was called upon to imitate the beauty, order, holiness, and purity of the tabernacle itself. It was to embody beauty, order, holiness, and purity in its own communal living. This principle was most evident in the case of Israelite families. The families lived in tents just as God lived in his tent. Their own work in constructing and repairing their tents, caring for their animals, cooking and eating their food, distinguishing clean and unclean, separating right from wrong, and instructing their children was to be modeled after the work of God who was their heavenly Father (Deut. 8:5) and who was the exalted head of their spiritual household. For example, a humble task like washing the cookware was an echo of that exalted work of God the Savior in which he cleanses the tabernacle and ultimately cleanses the whole universe through the work of Jesus Christ. Mending clothing was an act by which Israelite clothing was restored to being a reflection of the exalted clothing of the high priest and the curtains of the tabernacle, which in turn pointed forward to the perfection of righteousness, beauty, order, and spiritual "mending" in Jesus Christ and his "robe of righteousness" (Isa. 61:10).

Likewise, the church in our day is to be holy. The church is not a voluntary association to be governed as its members see fit, but a dwelling place of God. It ought to be structured according to the orders of its commander, the Lord Jesus Christ. Our families and our homes are to reflect the spiritual purity, beauty, and orderliness that was temporarily pictured through the tabernacle and is now supremely set forth in Jesus Christ himself. Christ's work of cleansing the universe was definitively accomplished in his death and resurrection. But when we wash dishes in his name we do our little work of cleansing, which humbly reflects his great work.

Sixth, the tabernacle symbolized the people of God individually. The Israelites were commanded to keep their bodies pure--pure first of all from sin but also from ceremonial defilements that symbolized sin. In the New Testament the bodies of Christians are temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 6:19). We are "to purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God" (2 Cor. 7:1). Sexual sins as sins directly against the body are strongly forbidden (1 Cor. 6:18-20).

Seventh, the tabernacle pointed forward to the new Jerusalem, the final dwelling of God with human beings. The Israelites were supposed to look forward to God's salvation in the future and to pray for his coming. By doing so they were to stir themselves up to be faithful to God and to trust him in their own time. We have now received the down-payment of our salvation through the gift of the Holy Spirit (Eph. 1:13-14; 2 Cor. 1:22). But we must stir ourselves up to long for the second coming of Christ when we will receive fully what God has promised.

Eighth, the tabernacle symbolized God himself. The teaching of the Old Testament did not reveal the mysteries of the Trinitarian nature of God as fully as they have now been revealed. But the Israelites were being instructed by the veils and the not-fully-analyzable symbols to realize that God's character and his purposes were unfathomably deep, and that their salvation rested in God's own character and wisdom. We now know, in the light of fuller revelation, that the God of Israel is our Trinitarian God, the one God revealed through the work of Christ as he obeyed the Father through the power of the Holy Spirit. The tabernacle points forward to Christ the final dwelling of God with human beings, but also to the Father and the Spirit who in Christ reveal the fullness of the Deity to us (Col. 2:9). For us as well as for the Israelites, the tabernacle is a revelation of God himself: his holiness, his beauty, his majesty, his purposes of salvation. The law of Moses is intended above all to draw us into communion with this wonderful God, to adore him, to worship him, and to enjoy his presence forever. We are members of his household, adopted sons of a heavenly Father, and brothers of Jesus Christ our elder brother (Rom. 8:17, 28-30).

Guidelines for interpreting the revelation of the tabernacle

Now let us stand back and ask how we have gone about interpreting the significance of the tabernacle.

As I mentioned in chapter 1, we have a threefold task of interpretation. On the one hand, we must try to understand the law of Moses within its original historical context, as God gave it to the Israelites. On the other hand, we must understand it in relation to the rest of the Bible, the complete communication from God. And we must endeavor to see its implications for our lives and our circumstances. For my own benefit as well as for the benefit of convincing others, I endeavor most of the time to start with the original historical context. We ought to place ourselves in the position of an Israelite in the time of Moses, or in the position of Moses himself. What would they think about the tabernacle? What could they have legitimately discerned about its significance? Moses and the Israelites would have known about the background of God's dealing with their ancestors, as recorded in Genesis. They would have experienced the mighty acts of deliverance by which God brought them out of Egypt and sustained them in the wilderness. In addition, it would have been obvious to them that the tabernacle contained symbols.

How then would they have interpreted a symbol? We in the West are not very much at ease with symbolism ourselves. We live in an industrialized society dominated by scientific and technological forms of knowledge. Such knowledge minimizes the play of metaphors and the personal depth dimensions of human living. For many people "real" truth means technological truth, that is, truth swept free of metaphor and symbolism. We meet symbolism mostly in advertising, and such use of symbolism rouses our suspicions and often ends by producing indifference.

I am convinced that God does not share our general cultural aversion to metaphors and symbols. He wrote the Old Testament, which contains a good deal of poetry and many uses of metaphor. Jesus spoke in parables, which are a kind of extended metaphor. Godly Israelites of Old Testament times were able to appreciate his language, whereas we have a hard time with it. We must adapt to the fact that symbols and metaphors can speak truly and powerfully without speaking with pedantic scientific precision. A symbol may suggest a deep truth or even a cluster of related truths without blurting everything out in plain talk and making everything crystal clear. An element of mystery may remain, because a symbol may suggest a whole host of connections. We do not know for certain exactly how far we are supposed to carry the implications when we analyze the symbol in a more scientific way. For example, Ps. 23:1 says, "The LORD is my shepherd." In what ways is the Lord like a human shepherd? We can receive personal comfort and true meaning from the psalm even without being able to analyze precisely in an academic way all the respects in which God is like a shepherd and precisely where we are to stop drawing more implications.

I believe, then, that we treat God's word with the greatest reverence and fairness when we recognize that God may use symbol. We ought not to impose our own modern biases. To appreciate a symbol, we must let our imaginations play a little, and ask what the symbol suggests. What does it bring to mind? What is it like? What does it remind me of in my own past experience? What does it allude to in other writings by the same author? We must explore all these questions, but endeavor to do so like an Israelite, not like a twentieth-century Westerner. Then the associations of the tabernacle with sky, earth, and creation come to mind, as well as associations with Israel's past deliverance and presence experience. The correspondences of the parts of the tabernacle with one another and the simple ratios between its dimensions express a beautiful craftsmanship and the principle of replicating a pattern on different levels. Then we are on our way to appreciating the tabernacle as an Israelite might potentially have done. We must of course recognize that some associations and connections are more obvious than others, and that we may possibly be wrong about some details. But the overall picture emerges clearly.2

Having obtained a picture from the original historical circumstances, we are ready to extend the picture and fill it out by seeing how God continues his story and his revelation in the later prophets and in the New Testament. These further reflections may also help us to discriminate better between what is incidental and what is most central in our earlier reflection. We may sometimes correct earlier impressions when we hear more of the story.

The two stages, involving the original historical context and involving use of the whole Bible, are not rigidly separable from one another. They each help to correct and enhance the other. But errors can arise if we concentrate wholly on one stage. First, people who concentrate only on the original historical context have frequently not done justice to that context because they have underestimated the power and richness of the symbolic significance of the tabernacle. Knowing that the tabernacle points to heavenly things that are fulfilled in Christ can encourage us to study the original context more diligently.

Second, people who concentrate only on the whole Bible frequently do become fanciful because they are occupied too much with their own ideas, not with what God communicated to the Israelites. For example, some have thought that every mention of wood in the Old Testament somehow points to the cross of Christ. Since almost all the tabernacle furniture and the beams supporting the tabernacle are made of acacia wood, all these items must somehow prefigure the cross. But such a move is really very superficial. It never asks what the tabernacle items really meant within their own context and how they really functioned, but simply imposes a meaning from outside. We do not really learn anything from the Bible when we proceed in this way, because what we hear is only what we already knew, namely New Testament teaching about the work of Christ. Thus we need to proceed in a way that utilizes the full resources of the Bible and respects the way in which God has actually communicated to people over a long period of history.

It is time now to proceed forward with our examination of the law of Moses. Many other questions about interpretive principles could be raised, and we could explore more deeply the questions that I have already raised. But such questions are best left to other books besides this one.3

In some respects interpretive principles are validated by the increase that they bring to our understanding, just as the proof of the pudding is in the eating. If this book helps you to understand the Old Testament, its interpretive concerns are fulfilled.

Footnotes

1. More precisely, saints in the Old Testament were saved through Christ, but only through the anticipatory working of the benefits of Christ's sacrifice, which was still to be accomplished in the future. There is much mystery here.

2. But serious distortions can be introduced by the adoption of the antisupernaturalist framework of the historical-critical method. Under the influence of this method many modern scholars have come to believe that the books of Moses derive not from Mosaic times but from much later periods, and that they contain various layers of tradition in tension with one another. Often they then lose sight of the way in which the books of Moses are meant to be read as a larger unity, each part being interpreted in the light of the whole rather than set at variance with other parts.

A full discussion of the arguments of modern Old Testament scholarship is outside the scope of this book, but it is worthwhile making some basic methodological points. We should repudiate the antisupernaturalist biases associated with the historical-critical method. Various strands of evidence both from the Old Testament books themselves and from the New Testament (see John 5:45-47) confirm the Mosaic origin of the bulk of the material in Exodus through Deuteronomy. Genesis does not directly indicate its author or its sources, but it seems to me likely that it was written by Moses. Later inspired writers with divine authorization may have added the account of Moses's death in Deut. 34:1-12 and perhaps other notes enabling Israelites better to apply the teaching of Moses to their own circumstances. However, scholars cannot validly deduce the date of origin of material merely from observations about its relevance to later situations, since God knows the end from the beginning and what he writes is always relevant to later situations. Stylistic differences between hypothetical sources are also unreliable, since Moses himself may have used sources in some cases. While writing under inspiration he like any other writer had the liberty of shifting style in accordance with subject matter.

Scholars used to regard a position like mine as obscurantist, but a shift within scholarship itself is now making it more obvious that the books of the Bible are works with a unity, integrity, and literary artistry of their own, and that they deserve to be interpreted as wholes.

3. See the very helpful discussion in Geerhardus Vos, "Revelation in the Period of Moses," Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1948), pp. 115-200. People interested in the further ramifications of my own position should consult a number of my articles and books. Note especially Vern S. Poythress, "Divine Meaning of Scripture," Westminster Theological Journal 48 (1986):241-79, concerning the relation of the meaning of parts of the Bible to the meaning of the whole; "God's Lordship in Interpretation," Westminster Theological Journal 50 (1988) 27-64, concerning the basic presuppositions of interpretation; Symphonic Theology: The Validity of Multiple Perspectives in Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1987), concerning the value of judicious use of the imagination and metaphor; and Science and Hermeneutics: Implications of Scientific Method for Biblical Interpretation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1988), concerning the importance of breaking out of modern Western biases.