The tabernacle, the law, and the promised land are all intended to point forward to Christ. It makes sense that Jesus said, "Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms" (Luke 25:44). But within this single unified purpose of testifying to Christ we can still discern a multitude of subordinate purposes. We have already noted a trio of purposes, namely to set forth a God-given order, to open access to communion and personal fellowship with God, and to show God's power to bless and curse (see chapter 5). The tabernacle and the law both testify to a triple set of facts, namely that God is the origin and creator of order, that the world expresses his personal presence in its order and its life, and that he is the redeemer and restorer of the order and life disrupted by sin. The land also expresses the same truths, since it derives from God the Creator, it expresses his personal blessing, and God has taken it away from the wicked Canaanites in order to give it to his redeemed people.
We can see the way in which several points are unfolded when we recall the multiplicity of connections of tabernacle symbolism. First of all the tabernacle represents, copies, and models heavenly reality. But its symbolism is not merely a one-dimensional pointer to heaven. As we have seen (chapter 2), the tabernacle has a multiplicity of connections with biblical teaching:
(1) God dwells in heaven in the midst of his holy courtroom of angels and ministering spirits. The tabernacle as a dwelling place of God replicates heaven.
(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). The tabernacle is analogous to the universe as a whole.
(3) The tabernacle is connected to the temple, a larger replica of the same truths.
(4) The tabernacle is suggestive of the Garden of Eden, which was a special dwelling of God where God met with Adam and Eve (cf. Gen. 2:15-3:8).
(5) The tabernacle is a pattern for the people of God corporately, who become a dwelling place of God.
(6) The tabernacle is a pattern for each individual believer, and for the priest in particular, since each individual becomes a dwelling place of God.
(7) The tabernacle looks forward to the final dwelling of God, the new Jerusalem of Revelation 21-22.
(8) The tabernacle prefigures Christ himself, who is the ultimate dwelling of God with human beings.
(9) The imagery in the tabernacle is also capable of recalling God's great acts of redemption in the Exodus.
(10) The tabernacle points forward to God's future acts of redemption.
All these connections (especially 1-8) are part of the great biblical theme of God's dwelling place. Hence they all express the truth that God comes to us to be personally present and a source of personal communion. The cosmic scope of the connections 1, 2, and 7 particularly remind us that God is the source of all order. Connections 9 and 10 remind us that God is the redeemer and restorer. All of these connections of tabernacle symbolism have an inner unity, because Christ is the source of all (connection 8).
Likewise, the land expresses in some fashion many of the same connections, as we have seen (chapter 6).
Because of the close inner connection between the tabernacle and the law, we may expect to find the law to exhibit the same connections as does the tabernacle. The law points upward to the character of God the Holy One. It points outward to the people of Israel and provides for them a standard to which they are to conform. They are to "be holy because I, the LORD your God, as holy" (Lev. 19:2).
Next, the law points backward to God's original creation. For one thing, the distinctions between clean and unclean intensify the original separations that God made in creating the different regions of creation and the different kinds of living things. The law enjoins on Israel a special necessity to separate from crawling things and things symbolically associated with the fall, as part of Israel's calling to be a kingdom of priests. This obligation is analogous to Adam's responsibility to keep the garden and resist the serpent. In addition, the moral principles of the law articulate the relationships that human beings were created to have with God and with one another.
The law also points backward to God's acts of redemption from Egypt. Sometimes it explicitly invokes God's past mercies and promises (for example, Exod. 20:2; Deut. 5:15; 1:19-3:29). At every point its contrasts between good and evil recapitulate the fundamental contrast between serving idolatrous masters in Egypt and serving God with freedom in a new redeemed situation.
Finally, the law points forward to its final embodiment and fulfillment. The very disobedience of the people of Israel testifies to the fact that they need God to act in a new redemptive way to write the law on their heart (Jer. 31:31-34). The insufficiency of animal sacrifices to cleanse from sin points to the necessity of a final, perfect sacrifice for sin. The people need a sacrifice that will fully bear the penalty for disobedience to the law and also create by its perfection a dynamically reproducing pattern of perfect obedience. Thus the law points forward to Christ. Christ will perfectly obey God and perfectly embody the righteousness of God expressed in the law (2 Cor. 5:21). He will also perfectly satisfy the penalty and curse that comes to those who disobey God's law (Gal. 3:13).
In sum, the law like the tabernacle sustains connections in several directions, upward, outward, backward, and forward. In all these directions it expresses a fundamental unity in God's purpose, namely the unity of Christ himself. Christ is the preeminent Word of God, the Creator, the ultimate standard and embodiment of divine wisdom, truth, righteousness, order, life, and peace (John 1:1-4). He is himself "the fullness of the Deity . . . in bodily form" (Col. 2:9). He is the Truth (John 14:6), the ultimate reality of realities, the consummate righteousness that the law foreshadows. "For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ" (John 1:17). He sustains "all things by his powerful word" (Heb. 1:3). "By him all things were created" (Col. 1:16). "In him all things hold together" (Col. 1:17). "He is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy" (Col. 1:18).
The law, then, like the tabernacle and the land, expresses the holiness, truth, beauty, and righteousness of God himself. Its revelation comes with the absolute authority of God himself and can never pass away. But in another sense it proclaims its own insufficiency and nonultimacy. It is a shadow--a true and precious shadow, but still a shadow, of the surpassing glory of Christ. The ministry of the law in its own time was fading and is now superseded by the ministry of the gospel of the glory of Christ (2 Cor. 3:1-18). Far from abolishing the law, the ministry of Christ causes us through the Spirit to have the "veil" over our hearts removed and to see the law in its true purposes, as a reflection and anticipation of the glory of Christ (2 Cor. 3:14-18).
Many people have traditionally distinguished between "ceremonial" and "moral" laws in the Old Testament. According to this view, ceremonial laws are those laws like the sacrificial laws and dietary laws that were destined to pass away. Moral laws like the ten commandments have permanent validity. Two distinct purposes are customarily associated with these two types of law. The ceremonial laws symbolize and foreshadow by means of temporary outward ceremonies the nature of Christ's redemptive work. The moral laws set forth the permanent standard for human righteousness and show what human beings who serve God are expected to do.
Obviously there is some truth and some value in this distinction. Some parts of the law, namely the "moral" commandments, express in a more or less direct way universal rules for human behavior. "You shall not steal" is just as valid a rule now as it was for Israel. One significant purpose of such law is to guide the behavior of those who have come to know God, whether these people are Israelites or modern Christians.
Other parts of the law, namely the "ceremonial" commandments, express rules applying directly only to Israel's circumstances or to the circumstances of particular individuals within Israel. For example, much of the instruction in Lev. 6-7 and 21-22 is applicable in an immediate sense only to Israelite priests. Since the priesthood symbolizes mediation between God and human beings, and since such mediation is now fulfilled in Christ, we may properly argue that one main purpose of Lev. 6-7 and 21-22 is to foreshadow the nature of the work of Christ as our perfect and holy high priest in heaven.
Likewise, the food laws operate to distinguish Israel from the surrounding Gentile nations (see chapter 7). Israel as the holy people are in communion with God through the tabernacle. The other nations do not have this privilege. With the privilege comes a unique responsibility to remain separate from unclean things (Deut. 14:21). The holiness and separation of Israel foreshadows the holiness and separation of Christ, who by his work has now purified all foods (Mark 7:19; 1 Tim. 4:4-5).
The organization of the Book of Deuteronomy also reveals a rough distinction between moral and ceremonial parts.1 As Moses indicates, the ten commandments in Deuteronomy 5 are given by the direct voice of God, whereas the other ordinances are spoken by Moses under God's direction (5:22-33). The ten commandments are the "covenant" (5:2-3), to which God "added nothing more" (5:22). They alone were written with the finger of God on the two tablets that Moses received directly from God (5:22). The subsequent commandments in the rest of Deuteronomy are then explicitly described as "all the commands, decrees and laws you are to teach them to follow in the land I am giving them to possess" (5:30). Deuteronomy repeatedly invokes the phrase "in the land" (5:30, 33; 6:1, 3, 10, 18, 23; 7:1; 8:1; etc.). Thus all the commands from 6:1 onward are qualified by the geographical boundaries of the land. Some commands are clearly of much broader scope (for example, the command to love God in 6:4-5). But many others are explicitly tied to the land (for example, Deut. 19:1-13 depends on the setting up of cities of refuge in the land). Many of the laws are thus "ceremonial" laws, in the sense that their observance depends on the unique holiness of Israel and the unique holiness of the land of promise, the new Eden.
Hence Deuteronomy itself separates a moral part, the ten commandments in Deuteronomy 5, from a ceremonial part, the "commands, decrees, and laws" of Deuteronomy 6-31. But the distinction is a rough one, since some obviously moral commands are included in the later chapters.
However, the simple distinction between moral and ceremonial laws does not reveal the full richness of God's law. Though useful up to a point, it pays attention to only a few aspects of Old Testament revelation.2 And if used unthinkingly, it threatens to separate into two disparate pieces what God has undeniably joined together. The tabernacle as a whole and the law as a whole bear witness to Christ. The order of the tabernacle and the order of the law express a profound unity belonging to Mosaic revelation. This unity prefigures the final unity of the one way of salvation through the one Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Hence the law itself contains no special terminology neatly separating ceremonial and moral. Many chapters contain primarily ceremonial and primarily moral law side by side and mixed together (for example, Lev. 19; Deut. 22; 23; Exod. 23).
Some laws do express divine standards in a universally binding way, while others are adapted in one way or another to special circumstances in Israel. Hence on a rough basis we may distinguish between what is universal and what is special to Israel's circumstances. Yet this distinction is often a matter of degree. For example, the principle of honoring one's parents is universal. Yet when it is expressed in Exod. 20:12, it is combined with one very particular specification, namely "that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." Taken most literally and most narrowly, this qualification can apply only to the people of Israel to whom God is giving the land of Palestine, and then only during the period in which they possess the land, not, for instance, after they have been cast out of it for disobedience. Nevertheless, Paul in the New Testament does not hesitate to invoke this commandment in a Christian context and to suggest that "long life on the earth" is the result. Paul does perceive a universal principle in the commandment. But he does so only by reckoning with the fact that Israel's life in the land typologically symbolizes a universal reconquest and renewal of the whole earth through the work of Christ.
The ten commandments are generally considered to be the central Old Testament expression of the moral law. Yet here we have one commandment, the fifth, which contains clear reference to a ceremonial item, namely the land and life in the land. Some other less striking particularities characterize other commandments from among the ten commandments. The sabbath commandment in Deut. 5:15 specifically appeals to the fact that the people were slaves in Egypt and that the people owe allegiance to God because of his redemption. The commandment against graven images in Exod. 20:4-6 presupposes a social and religious context in which literal image-making was a genuine temptation. The commandment against coveting in Exod. 20:17 lists typical objects that would tempt Israelites to coveting, but not all of which would be meaningful in a modern industrialized society.
To crown it all, the whole of the ten commandments are pointedly preceded by a powerful claim of God to Israelite allegiance. He says, "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery" (Exod. 20:2). This most significant contextual note does not literally apply to anyone but Israel. If we use these commandments apart from this all-significant context, we lose sight of the motivation and backing for all of them. The ten commandments are not moralism or a legalistic way of salvation, but a call to life motivated by gratitude for God's compassion and deliverance. We can retrieve the correct use of the commandments only by invoking a typological analogy between redemption from Egypt and redemption from sin by Christ. That is, we argue that though we have not been literally redeemed from Egypt, we have been redeemed from what Egypt symbolized and foreshadowed, namely, bondage to sin. Egypt is a "type" or foreshadowing of the domain of sin. Redemption of Egypt is a kind of foreshadowing of redemption through Jesus Christ. Consequently we who are redeemed are to be motivated to obey God's commandments just as Israel was. Such an analogy between Israel and us does indeed exist, as Paul affirms in 1 Cor. 10:1-13. But it is a symbolical analogy, an analogy between two levels, like the ceremonial analogies of the so-called ceremonial laws. Hence the Christ-centered analogies of the ceremonies and the permanency of moral demands are inextricably linked.
We can illustrate the richness of the law starting from the other end as well. Consider the laws that prohibit Israelites from touching unclean things and eating unclean foods. Such laws are generally classified as ceremonial because Christians are not bound to observe them literally (see Col. 2:20-21; 1 Tim. 4:3-5; Mark 7:19). Nevertheless, these laws still express permanent principles. "Touch no unclean thing" is quoted by Paul as a backing for his injunction not to be yoked together with unbelievers (2 Cor. 6:14, 17), because it embodies the general principle of separation from moral disorder. The dietary laws also express the general truth that God has created all orders of living things, that this order also has been corrupted through the fall (see Gen. 3:17-18), that this order is to be redemptively restored though the renewal of the word of God, and that God's priests are to be radically separated from the corruptions of the fall. Believers in God are themselves to play a role in carrying out renewed discriminatory dominion over the lower creation and over the effects of the curse. Hence, though the exact form of observance of the food laws has changed, they express a multitude of permanent principles. They point backwards to creation and fall, upwards to the divine creative order, outwards to the domain of human responsibilities towards unredeemed humanity and the lower creation, and forwards to the hope for final redemption and renewal of the heavens and the earth (Isa. 65:17; Rom. 8:21-23).
Thus it seems wisest to me not to draw a sharp distinction between ceremonial and moral law, but to study all of the law most carefully in the endeavor to appreciate its depth, the richness of its connections, and the unity of its purposes in foreshadowing Christ.
I have stressed the fundamental unity of the law not only because the law finds its fulfillment and realization in one goal, the one Lord Jesus Christ, but also because I think that Israelites themselves would perceive the law as a unity. In one sense all the commandments are summed up in the one, "Be holy because I, the LORD your God, am holy" (Lev. 19:2). There is only one God, and devotion to him involves the holistic response of the whole person. "The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments [all of them, finding their unity in God] that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. . . ." (Deut. 6:4-9).
Yet within this fundamental unity Israelites themselves could easily sense some relative distinctions. Surely the commandment in Deut. 6:4-5 about loving God with all your heart is the great commandment to which all others are subordinate (cf. Matt. 22:37-38). The ten commandments as the heart of the law express in a most fundamental way our obligations first of all to God (commandments 1-4) and next to our neighbor (commandments 5-10). The rest of the law is largely an outworking of the implications of these central obligations. Hence Jesus can point to the fundamental character of the two great commandments, to love God and to love one's neighbor, in that order (Matt. 22:37-40). The two central commandments are deep and permanent moral principles. Hence it should be no surprise that the ten commandments also, as an expansion of these two principles, also embody permanent principles--though we have seen that they also particularize the principles to Israel.
The two great principles of loving God and loving one's neighbor also suffice to awaken Israelites to the possibility that not everything in the law is equally permanent. The food laws and the sacrificial laws are not directly deducible from general principles of love. Do they therefore have a special, temporary purpose? Perhaps. Israelites might not be at all certain, and would not need to be certain because their own obligations for their immediate future were clearly defined. But would changes come in the more distant future? What would happen when salvation was definitely accomplished, by an even more remarkable and thorough deliverance than the exodus from Egypt? It would be fitting to be open-minded on such a question. Moreover, these food laws and sacrificial laws involve the use of the lower creation, plants and animals, in a special symbolic way. Israel is forbidden to do some things that other nations may do (Deut. 14:21). Such special boundaries on the use of the lower creation seem in themselves to be temporary in view of the comprehensive dominion given to human beings in the original creation in Gen. 1. Such restrictions by their very nature suggest something introduced as a symbol for the necessity of remedying the disorders of sin and the fall.
These impressions available to Israel would be strengthened as Israelites compared the law of God and their own situation with the surrounding nations. How did Israel differ from the surrounding nations, and how was she like the other nations? In particular, did other nations have the same laws as their own standards? With respect to the first four of the ten commandments, the other nations were polytheistic idolaters, whereas Israel was enjoined to be loyal to one God exclusively. This distinction set Israel apart. But since God is the only true God, the God of the whole world, it is clear that the nations were deeply blinded and were guilty for not worshiping God alone (cf. Isa. 41-48; Rom. 1:18-32). With respect to commandments 5-9 from the ten commandments, the other nations did acknowledge the same basic standards, though with confusion and in the midst of much disobedience to standards that were formally acknowledged. Even today, almost all societies recognize that it is wrong to disrespect parents, to murder, to commit adultery, to steal, or to bear false witness. No society can completely suppress the most basic principles of fairness, of not doing to others what you would not want done to you. And societies that go too far in suppressing these standards simply disintegrate and disappear from the face of the earth. Thus, Israel can see a measure of agreement by other nations, because the great principle of loving one's neighbor is universal.
In the case of food laws and sacrificial laws, on the other hand, the standards of other nations by no means conformed to the standards for Israel. In at least one key case, the law itself indicates that the standards were never intended to be same (Deut. 14:21). In some cases, of course, disagreement with other nations might only mean that the nations were blind. But at other times it might mean that the standards for Israel herself were temporary and symbolical. Apart from special revelation how could other nations have come to see the necessity of keeping things in just the way that they were kept in Israel? Hence Israelites themselves might easily sense that these special laws set Israelite apart as a holy people not only in a unique way but also in a temporary way. Distinctions between foods and types of sacrifices could never be the essence but only a symbol of the essential holiness of Israel and the holiness of God who dwelt in the midst of Israel.
Thus the distinction between permanent principle and temporary symbolical form is not merely some artificial idea from a later age or from later revelation; it was embedded already in the original Mosaic revelation to Israel. Israelites would naturally not have all the answers immediately, but they would have a vague, almost subconscious sense of there being a distinction between what was more central and what was less, between what was more permanent and universal and what might possibly be temporary. At the heart of their experience would be a covenantal relation to God and a trust in God. Pious Israelites would have included in their experience of God an expectation that God would in his own time clarify what was imperfectly known concerning the deeper significances and purposes of the revelation of Moses. For us to read the law of Moses now in the light of further Old Testament revelation and even New Testament revelation is not a violation of law's intentions but their realization.
The tabernacle, the law, and the promised land all present us with a fascinating depth behind an elementary exterior. Depending on whether we look at their surface or their depths, they can be regarded either as elementary and simple, or as rich and profound. Though such a situation seems paradoxical, it is a natural result of the functions and purposes of these institutions within their own environment. On the one hand the tabernacle, the law, and the land are given to Israel during a time of immaturity or childhood, before Christ has come. Hence they convey principles of salvation in an elementary pictorial form. They can rightly be described as temporary structures (Heb. 9:8-10; Gal. 3:17-25) serving as guides only until Christ comes. The law embodies "basic principles of the world" (Gal. 4:3, 9-10; Col. 2:20-23), elementary teachings that Christians should have gone beyond. The land was the concrete expression of God's promise. As such, it was only a pointer to "the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God" (Heb. 11:10). Taking possession of the land did not constitute the final sabbath rest, but was a foretaste of it (Heb. 4:8-11).
On the other hand, precisely because they point forward to Christ, the tabernacle, the law, and the land also involve a depth dimension. They are rich with meaning once our eyes have been opened to see their true significance and the way in which they depict Christ (see 2 Cor. 3:1-18). Even within their Old Testament context the tabernacle and the law already showed the nature of redemption. They set forth the holiness of God and the standard to which human beings are to conform. The land and its associated promise reminded Israel that God had loved the undeserving. Salvation was a gift, but the gift implied an obligation to thank and obey God the giver. The tabernacle showed the necessity of sacrifice, substitution, priestly representation, and cleansing to remedy the damage of sin.
The Israelites in the Old Testament did not always grasp the significance of the tabernacle, the law, and the promised land; but that failure was due to the "veil" over their hearts (2 Cor. 3:14-16), not to an intrinsic lack of meaning in God's word. We do not need to impose an extra alien idea in order to find connections with redemption in Jesus Christ. The connections are there from the beginning. Yet our understanding of the tabernacle, the law, and the land can undergo further deepening now that Christ has accomplished redemption. Things that were only hinted at in the Old Testament become clearer now. When we have the second half of the story presented in the New Testament we can become more confident that we know how the first part was intended to predict this second part.
A look at the tabernacle, the law, and the land in detail confirms this paradoxical duality of elementary teaching and depth. The tabernacle is a kind of child's picture book of elementary teachings. God is holy. You cannot approach him. You need a mediator and sacrifice. The most basic theological facts about the tabernacle are simple and obvious. The tabernacle expresses truths in shadows, that is, elementary outward forms. Yet the truths to which the shadows point are as deep as redemption itself. Who can appreciate the full depth of meaning in the statement that Jesus is "Immanuel," God with us, God making his dwelling or "tent" with us? Who knows the depths in the claim that Jesus is the bread of life or the light of the world, corresponding to the bread of the Presence and the lampstand?
Now let us look at the law. The food laws are again symbolic in nature. In form they touch only on externals and do not "clear the conscience of the worshiper" (Heb. 9:9). Yet they also symbolize a deep truth, namely the holiness of God and the necessity for his people to separate from spiritual uncleanness.
The ten commandments are rightly considered to be the heart of the law. Viewed on a superficial level, they confine themselves mostly to elementary things. Do not worship other gods. Do not make idols. Do not murder. Do not commit adultery. As we have already observed, commandments 5-9 are so "elementary" that almost all societies recognize their validity. Viewed superficially, they forbid only what almost everyone knows is wrong. Many moral people, like the rich young man of Luke 18:21, think that they have kept these commandments--or at least most of the commandments, most of the time. Yet we know from the history of Israel that Israel needed just such an elementary list, and was not able to keep the commandments even on the most superficial, literal level.
Modern expositions of the ten commandments have nevertheless seen a great depth of meaning in the ten commandments. When we read the commandments carefully within the larger context of God's revelation, we can indeed see that they hint at a greater depth of obedience, not merely blind, limited literal observance. For instance, the tenth commandment, concerning coveting, throws light on all the other commandments by suggesting that evil desires and evil intentions are sinful, in addition to the actual acts of murder, adultery, and theft. The law also commands Israel to "circumcise your hearts" (Deut. 10:16) and promises such circumcision in the future (Deut. 30:6), thereby indicating that the law touches on the inward responsibilities of cleanliness of heart.
The commandment to love your neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:18) shows that positive actions of help as well as negative prohibitions against damaging one's neighbor are included. On an elementary level we are prohibited from literally murdering our neighbor. But on a more advanced level, we can infer that we are enjoined to act positively to try to preserve and enhance the life of our neighbor. The commandments not to steal has an elementary level on which it simply forbids taking another person's property. On a more advanced level it can be seen to embody the positive principle of taking care to preserve and enhance another person's property and well-being. And so on with the other commandments.
Most of all, we must reckon with the fact that all the commandments are the commandments of God the righteous King. The commandments are reinforced by appeals to the fact that "I am the LORD" (Lev. 19:18) and "be holy because I, the LORD your God, am holy" (Lev. 19:2). When we see the law as a pointer to the character of God and his holiness, infinite depth is suggested. When we read the law in the context of the whole Bible, we can see that it expresses the righteousness of Jesus Christ himself. Since we are to be imitators of Christ and to reflect his righteousness (1 Pet. 2:21; 2 Cor. 3:18; Rom 8:29), the law is also relevant to us.
The promised land was a third elementary reality. All the ordinary routines of one's life took place there. Inheritance, farming, harvest, eating and enjoying one's produce, management of livestock, seasons of the year, war, international commerce, were all based on the existence of this land, with its particular natural (actually God-given) resources and with particular geographical relations to neighboring lands. The land was in a sense the most basic, elementary reality among all the realities of ordinary Ancient Near Eastern life. It was one's stable environment, the thing that one could take most for granted. Yet, in the case of Israel, it was the special gift of God; it was his promised inheritance to Abraham, through whom blessing would come to all nations (Gen. 17:4-8). It was freighted with theological meaning. What happened to the land signified the people's relation to God, in blessing or curse (Deut. 28). Hence the land as a sign or symbol of God's goodness opened a inviting window onto the infinite riches of God's choice of Israel, his mercy, his goodness, and his anger against sin (Exod. 34:6-7).
In sum, a balanced treatment of the tabernacle, the law, and the land takes into account both their externality and their depth. All three institutions necessarily had an externality and an insufficiency. Their very insufficiency was a reminder to Israelites of the fact that reality was in the future to supersede shadows. It simultaneously reminded them that in the meantime the shadows did have a depth dimension, in that they pointed to heavenly reality and its future realization on earth.
The tabernacle and the law are characterized by meticulous and thorough-going order. The land as well is parceled out to the people in an orderly way (Josh. 13-21). All these reflect the orderliness and order-creating character of God. As an integral and central part of this order, the tabernacle and the law set forth standards to which Israel is to conform. The holiness of the tabernacle is to be reflected on a subordinate level in the holiness of the holy people, who are to "be holy because I, the LORD your God, am holy" (Lev. 19:2). Since the people are a kingdom of priests (Exod. 19:6), they are to imitate the holiness of the Aaronic priesthood. When they conform to the ten commandments, they reflect the holiness of the commandments themselves, a holiness exhibited in the fact that the commandments are kept in the ark in the most holy place of the tabernacle.
The most basic principle of righteousness is the imitation of God: "be holy because I, the LORD your God, am holy" (Lev. 19:2). God is himself the standard and origin of holiness and righteousness. Human beings created in God's image have a natural responsibility to imitate and embody God's character on their own created plane. In terms of responsibilities to God, in the first four of the ten commandments, Israel is to imitate God's own zeal to protect the holiness and uniqueness of God's own person and claims. In terms of responsibilities to other human beings, Israel is to take care to preserve what God has created and ordained: human authority (commandment 5), human life, human sexuality and procreation, human property, human reputation, and human desires.
The imitation of God can be subdivided into two parts, namely the imitation of God's care for things by a similar exercise of care oneself, and the imitation of God's bounty by reciprocal giving back to God. We have obligations to care for the world that God has created (commandments 5-10) and obligations to give back to God in thanksgiving the honor that is due to him alone as creator (commandments 1-4). Actually, these two parts are two perspectives on the entire field of ethics. Giving honor to God is not only an act of thanksgiving for his bounty but also an imitation of the zeal that God has for his own name--it is imitation ultimately of the intra-Trinitarian honor that the Father gives to the Son and the Son to the Father (John 5:23; 8:54; 14:31; etc.). Caring for the world is not only an imitation of God's original care but a form of thanksgiving to God for what he has made. Nevertheless for practical purposes we may sometimes distinguish one form of service as more prominent. Let us call the imitation of God "replication" of his action, and giving back to God "restoration" of his goods.
In the fourth commandment in Exod. 20:8-11, replication of God's action is clearly more prominent, since Exod. 20:11 specifically appeals to the fact that God made the heavens and the earth in six days. In the first three commandments restoration is more prominent, since the giving of exclusive honor to God is only giving what is owed back to him. Many other commandments can be viewed easily from either perspective. The negative prohibitions against murder, adultery, theft, and false witness can be viewed as imitation of God's care for these aspects of human life; but since the commandments are negative in form, they could also be viewed as injunctions to leave God's human creation as one finds it, that is, to restore it to God without corrupting it.
These distinctions become useful mostly in other areas. For example, the grain offering represents primarily restoration, since the grain that one has produced through God's providential care for agriculture is restored to its original owner. The fellowship offering represents primarily replication, since in eating the holy food of the feast one commits oneself to conformity to the character of the God with whom one has fellowship. One takes into oneself the life-giving power of God that the food symbolizes.
When God's holiness and his standards have been violated, some other distinctions may come into play. When we have sinned against God, we not only owe him the thanksgiving that was always owed, but also an additional debt, namely the debt of sin itself. We must pay a penalty in the form of punishment. Thus, when we deal with cases of wrong-doing, restoration is transformed into punishment. We also have a continuing obligation to imitate God or replicate his holiness. When sin has come in, replication of God's holiness must take the form of abolition and destruction of sin. Thus replication takes the form of destruction. In a rough way, these two motifs correspond to the other main forms of sacrificial offering. The sin offering (and the guilt offering as a variant form of sin offering) symbolizes primarily the need for punishment. The burnt offering symbolizes the need for entire consecration or holiness. In the context of sin, such consecration includes entire destruction of sin.
Actually, the sacrificial offerings delineated in Lev. 1-5 have a great deal in common, so we must not exaggerate their differences. The punishment of sin and the destruction of sin are both a replication of God's holiness, which is intrinsically averse to sin. The punishment of sin and destruction of sin also constitute a kind of restoration of the situation disrupted by sin, so that it returns to an ordered situation of righteousness. Thus all the aspects of human response to God are involved in one another. We always respond as whole persons to the whole God.
Christ fulfills all the aspects of Old Testament sacrifice, as we have seen (chapter 3). Yet we can still distinguish aspects of his work. Replication consists primarily in Christ's imitation of his Father (John 5:19-23). We in turn replicate Christ's character as we are transformed into the image of Christ (2 Cor. 3:18). Restoration consists in Christ's rising to new life in his resurrection. We in turn are to present our bodies to God as a living sacrifice (Rom. 12:1-2). Punishment consists in Christ's bearing our sins (1 Pet. 2:24). Consecration to God consists in Christ's death and resurrection, plus our death and resurrection through him: we die to our old man through him and are raised as new men (Rom. 6:3-7; Col. 2:20).
The tabernacle speaks of both blessing and curse. God dwells in the midst of Israel in a unique way, and his presence bestows on Israel a unique privilege and unique blessing. Through him they are enabled to inherit the land of Canaan. Yet the tabernacle is simultaneously a source of curse to those who violate its holiness. Those who enter its precincts unauthorized are threatened with death. After Israel sins God sometimes appears at the tabernacle to pronounce judgment (Num. 12:5-10; 14:10-11).
The law has the same double-pronged effect. Israel is blessed above all other nations by having wise statutes and laws (Deut. 4:5-8; Ps. 147:20). The laws set forth a way of life and blessing to those who keep them (Lev. 18:5; Exod. 20:12; Deut 28:1-14). Simultaneously they threaten a curse on the disobedient (Deut. 27). The possession of the land betokens the character of Israel's relation to God (Deut. 28:1-68).
The tabernacle, the law, and the land are given to the people of Israel after they have been redeemed from Egypt (Exod. 20:2). They are crowning blessings to those who have already received the great salvific blessing of deliverance. Even the curses of the law can be viewed positively as warnings and fatherly chastisement to wayward sons, intended to awaken them and bring them back to the way of obedience. In such functions the Mosaic law is parallel to the commandments given to Christians. Christian obedience does not earn our salvation any more than Israelite obedience earned deliverance from Egypt. Salvation is a gift. The blessings of God in Christ, like the blessings of the land, are a gift. Obedience follows in the form of the service of gratitude (restoration) and imitation (replication) of the deliverer.
The tabernacle, the law, and the promised land point in this respect to the gracious benefits of deliverance through Christ. Christ is himself the final embodiment of the tabernacle, the law, and the land. He is God's dwelling with us (John 2:21), in conformity with the tabernacle theme. He is God's righteousness expressed to us (2 Cor. 5:21), in conformity with the law theme. He is God's richest blessing to us, our inheritance (Eph. 1:14), the fulfillment of all the promises of God (Eph. 1:3-4; 2 Cor. 1:20), in conformity with the theme of the promised land. We ourselves are to imitate or replicate Christ's character in ourselves. We are to be temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 6:19) replicating the tabernacle. We are to be new selves, "created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness" (Eph. 4:23), replicating the law. We are to be filled with the fullness of God and his blessing (Eph. 1:3; 3:19), replicating the land. In the new covenant each Christian becomes a tabernacle, beholding the glory of Christ (1 Cor. 6:19; 2 Cor. 3:18; 4:6). The kingdom of God is our proper inheritance (Matt. 5:5, 10; 6:33). The law is written on our hearts (Jer. 31:33). Thus the law, understood as fulfilled in Christ, can serve as a "lamp to our feet and a guide to our path," a guide for the righteous living of a Christian (Ps. 119:105).
The built-in insufficiency of the tabernacle, the law, and the land also point to Christ. Longings for deep communion with God can never be fulfilled in the Old Testament, because the tabernacle veils bar the way. Definitive forgiveness of sin can never be obtained in the Old Testament, because animal sacrifices do not suffice to cleanse the heart or to abolish sin permanently (Heb. 9:9; 10:2). The law when understood in its depth pointed to the absolute perfection and holiness of God. Sinful human beings cannot stand before God's perfection; they are always condemned. Circumcision of the heart was promised to Israel in the future (Deut. 30:6), but the law bluntly pronounced Israel to be hard of heart (Deut. 29:4; 32:5). The blessings of the land, good as they were, were temporary: they were sometimes interrupted by war and famine, and always terminated by bodily death.
The law, then, condemned Israel for its sin. It provided also for some relief through the animal sacrifices, but these sacrifices never gave final cleansing nor did they result in circumcision of the heart. The more we read the law in depth, as a pointer to the absolute righteousness of God rather than an elementary list of rights and wrongs, the more we see the desperate character of the human situation. We are condemned by God and alienated from him. There is no human remedy. Israelites were thus shut up under the curse of the law in order that their longings for future deliverance might grow, that they might return to the promise of blessing given to Abraham, and they might look forward to a final deliverance and circumcision of the heart. The curses of the law in this respect functioned not simply as a kindly chastisement by a heavenly father, but as a shadow of the final punishment in hell. When Christ came, he came to die under the curse of the law, to suffer the punishments of hell, in order that we might be freed from the curse (Gal. 3:10-13). Thus Christ's suffering is the fulfillment of the curse of the law. In this respect we ourselves ought to look to the law not to understand what we undergo but to understand what Christ underwent on our behalf.
The tabernacle, the law, and the land seem, then, to have two contradictory purposes, to bless and to condemn. Actually the two are harmonized in Christ. To begin with, the land as a blessing of God foreshadows the permanent blessings of Christ. But the temporary character of the blessings, and even more strikingly their eventual reversal into a curse for disobedience, remind Israel of her insufficiency and point to what Christ had to suffer to win permanent blessing.
The tabernacle and the law foreshadow the holiness and righteousness of God. On the one hand they anticipate the holiness and righteousness of Christ that we are to imitate, and thus set forth a standard for our obedience. On the other hand they set forth the unreachability of the divine standard and the necessary condemnation falling on the disobedient. In doing so they anticipate the suffering of Jesus Christ for us and the pains of hell that fall on the unrepentant.
The men of the Reformation spoke of three uses of the law of Moses. First the law was a restraint to the wicked, second a schoolmaster that by condemning us points to the remedy in Christ, third a standard for Christian obedience. Our own discussion confirms the validity of the second and third uses. The first use is also valid, since it is true enough that even unbelievers cannot avoid knowing God's standards (Rom. 1:32). The threat of punishment either directly from God or through state authorities keeps unbelievers from doing some of the wicked things that they would otherwise do. When unbelievers obey God's standards in this way they are fulfilling God's purposes of restraining the outbreaks of evil.
If we would indicate relative importance, however, we would do well to rearrange the traditional order. First and foremost, in terms of eminence, the law points forward to Christ. This preeminent function includes within it the other two. By foreshadowing the righteousness of Christ it becomes a guide to Christian living. And by foreshadowing the universal righteous punishment of evil through Christ, it threatens punishment for sin, and thereby restrains evil among even those who have not yet willingly bowed their knee to Christ.
The Book of Hebrews contains a discussion of all the major aspects of Mosaic revelation, and confirms the interpretations that we have already set forth. Let us review them one by one.
First, look at the tabernacle. According to Heb. 9:1-14 the tabernacle was an earthly sanctuary. It symbolized the heavenly sanctuary and pointed forward to the work that Christ would complete.
Next, look at the sacrifices. According to Heb. 10:1-10, the animal sacrifices showed their imperfection and pointed forward to the final substitutionary sacrifice of Christ.
Next, the priesthood. According to Heb. 7:1-8:6 the Aaronic priesthood by its imperfection showed the need for a new and greater priesthood after the order of Melchizedek. Christ has now become a high "priest forever in the order of Melchizedek" (5:6).
Next, the people. In Mosaic times the nation of Israel was made a kingdom of priests (Exod. 19:5-6). Heb. 10:19-25 shows that all Christians now have the privileges of the high priest, in that they are able to enter the Most Holy Place through Christ. We have become the people of God who are called to enter God's rest (Heb. 4:2-3; see Gal. 3:6-29).
Next, the land. Heb. 4:8-11 indicates that the rest in the land of promise typified the heavenly rest with Christ that is our goal.
Next, the law. Heb. 8:5-13 and 10:15-18 draw a connection between the "new covenant," enjoyed by Christians, and the Mosaic covenant of Heb. 8:9. The Mosaic covenant includes all the elements just listed above, but prominently among them it includes law. In the new covenant, "I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts" (Heb. 8:10). "My laws" in this verse refers back to the laws of the Mosaic covenant, which had been violated by Israel (8:9). The new covenant thus continues the standards of righteousness of the Mosaic covenant. Yet radical transformation is also in view. The first covenant as a whole, with tabernacle, sacrifices, priesthood, land, and law, is "obsolete" and "will soon disappear" (8:13; cf. 7:12, 18-19). Hebrews does not go into detail about what results from this transformation of law. But we see hints of the implications not only in the radical alteration of the total institution of priesthood (7:18-19) but in sacrifices (13:15-16), food regulations (13:9), and promised land (13:14; 11:10, 16; 12:22-29). The transformation does not mean lawlessness, but love (13:1-6) and obedience to authority (13:17). At the heart of obedience is the constancy of Christ's righteousness and love (13:8).
The Book of Hebrews thus contains a remarkable amount of instruction touching on the relation of the Mosaic covenant to Christians. This richness is summed up in the opening verses,
In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. (Heb. 1:1-3).
The Son as the exact representation of God's being brings to a climax all earlier revelations of God, and his glory outshines them all.