14 And he made curtains of goats’ hair for the tent over the tabernacle: eleven curtains he made them.
15 The length of one curtain was thirty cubits, and four cubits was the breadth of one curtain: the eleven curtains were of one size.
16 And he coupled five curtains by themselves, and six curtains by themselves.
17 And he made fifty loops upon the uttermost edge of the curtain in the coupling, and fifty loops made he upon the edge of the curtain which coupleth the second.
18 And he made fifty taches of brass to couple the tent together, that it might be one.
19 And he made a covering for the tent of rams’ skins dyed red, and a covering of badgers’ skins above that.
The previous post detailed Bezaleel’s creation of the linen covering, which was the innermost layer, the one that was visible from the interior. Today we hear about all the following layers: the ones of goats’ hair, rams’ skin, and badgers’ skin. These would be visible from the outside, and I would imagine that they effectively blocked out the sun, such that the only illumination would be from the seven lamps on the menorah.
Of course, the menorah was only on one side of the inner curtain, which means there would have been no direct light source for the most holy place, only whatever light leaked in. We do not know how thick the inner curtain was, so maybe light was able to pass through or maybe not. If the most holy place was quite dim, this might seem like a strange choice given the common connection between God and light; but there are a couple possible reasons why this feature could have been fitting.
One explanation could be that this would help the priest to disconnect from the material world. Cutting off his sight may have helped him to surrender his own perception and reason, encouraging him to listen to his spiritual senses instead. Another reason might have been to symbolize the great shroud of mystery that still surrounds God, even when we are at our closest to Him. His depth and breadth are simply unfathomable and imperceivable to us. A third possibility is that the room might have been illuminated, but not by a natural light source. If Moses’s face was made to shine from his visits into the tabernacle, perhaps there was a divine glow that originated in there.
20 And Moses said unto the people, Fear not: for God is come to prove you, and that his fear may be before your faces, that ye sin not.
21 And the people stood afar off, and Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where God was.
I find very interesting the last phrase in today’s verses: “Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where God was.” This sounds counterintuitive. The scriptures describe God as being synonymous with the light, the entity that dispels the darkness. Why would Moses go into darkness to meet the Lord?
We have to ask, “what was causing the darkness that Moses stepped into?” Looking back on verse 18, I assume that it was “the mountain smoking.” It seems that Moses stepped into the darkness of the smoke to find the Lord within. But, of course, what one finds within smoke is a flame. It wasn’t that God was the darkness, but that He was the light within the darkness. This idea returns at other points as well, such as when John gives his testimony of the Word that was with God, and he uses the phrase: “the light shineth in darkness.”
We do not come across God as a bright spot in an already well-lit room. We find Him shining in the midst of the deepest darkness, darkness that we must step into before we find Him. Stepping into that darkness means facing our deepest fears, confessing our most shameful secrets, enduring our most painful afflictions, and ultimately passing into the darkness of death itself. This is a most fascinating aspect of our faith. We do not just believe that God is good, but that He is the good that we can only find through the darkest experiences of our life.
Jesus was crucified just before the sabbath, hastily laid to rest in an empty tomb, and remained shut out of sight for the next 24 hours. The following day he appeared, newly resurrected, and was witnessed by one group of followers after another, including all eleven apostles. Eventually he was even seen by 500 disciples at one time.
Thus, there was the last day of Jesus’s mortal life, the first day of his glorified life, and in between one day without Christ at all. What a bitter sabbath that must have been for Jesus’s disciples, the one day where they didn’t have their Lord to be there with them, and didn’t know that he would ever be with them again. A day of darkness, a day without the Lord.
But where was Jesus during that day away from the world? What was he gone to when he departed from his people?
He was gone conquering.
As the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. He led captivity captive, and hath put all things under his feet. (Hebrews 2:14-15, Ephesians 4:8, and Ephesians 1:22).
Jesus might have been missing, but hardly had he abandoned his people. The time when Jesus was absent in the lives of his disciples, he was gone destroying their greatest enemies: death and hell. He fought with mankind’s greatest evils, and his ability to rise back to life the next day shows that he was triumphant in that battle. He came back having won for them the greatest gifts they would ever receive.
Each of us similarly faces days where Christ appears to be missing in our lives. We feel his spirit beforehand, but then for a spell it seems that he has gone away from us. We are left alone in the dark, much like his ancient disciples. At such times, might not he have gone to conquer our greatest enemies also? Our days without Christ might be a sign that the greatest victories are about to come.
19 And the angel of God, which went before the camp of Israel, removed and went behind them; and the pillar of the cloud went from before their face, and stood behind them:
20 And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these: so that the one came not near the other all the night.
The Lord had been leading Israel in a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night. That pillar was still present when Pharaoh and his army arrived, and it moved to stand between the Israelites and the Egyptians. In later years, Isaiah would assure the Israelites that “the Lord will go before you; and the God of Israel will be your rearward” (Isaiah 52:12). Here we see that these words were not only figurative, for in this moment God had literally been both a guide ahead of Israel and a guard behind. Every promise of the Lord is fulfilled in many figurative ways, but I believe that there is always a literal realization of them as well.
Note, also, that the pillar now shifted to take on two distinct faces at the same time. It was a cloud of darkness to the Egyptians, which obscured their way forward and forced them to hold until the new day. Meanwhile, to the Israelites it was a burning fire, illuminating the way ahead as Moses worked God’s miracle upon the Red Sea and the Israelites made their escape.
Thus, once again, God was able to make a division, showing one wonder to the Egyptians and another to the Israelites. One wonder of darkness, one of light. One to hinder, one to push forward. The same God will judge, divide, and separate, like a sword cleaving good from evil.
Carl Jung is known for his quote “The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.” By this he meant that the more a person fixated on trying to be better, the more the darkness inside of him would lash out in defiance, leading to a pendulum swinging back-and-forth between periods of extreme good and extreme evil. Jung therefore recommended a sort of gray area, a place where a person could embrace both his vices and virtues, letting neither get out of balance.
The first time I heard this perspective I was struck by how it contradicted some of the most sacred experiences I have ever been witness to. In the twelve step group I attend we frequently express how good it feels to finally shine a light on the darkness and feel it dissipate from us. Men come to the meetings and confess all manner of temptation and unholy desire, and then tearfully express gratitude that the darkness is leaving their hearts even in the telling of it. There is no sense of the shadow growing darker, for the light is permeating all the way through and coming out the other side.
But as I gave Jung’s words a second consideration, I realized that I knew a few instances where I would agree with his assessment. I think that Jung’s perspective does have value, but that it is incomplete. In my experience, there are three types of shining a light on a problem, each with different degrees of usefulness.
Outer Light)
The first kind of light is one that one person shines on another. An example of this would be getting caught in a lie, or with incriminating evidence, anything that exposes one’s secret wrongs. There was no intention in the guilty to expose his secrets, but exposed they have been!
This light could be useful, depending on how the exposed person reacts to it. Ideally he would turn this embarrassing exposure into a wake-up call. Maybe he was horrified when he first got caught, but later on he says that he is so grateful that it happened. Having been seen at his worst, he could finally begin the work of becoming his best.
Alternatively, though, he might be resentful at being caught. Perhaps his exposer gives him an ultimatum and he does recovery work, but only begrudgingly. In this case he will have no gratitude for the light that shone upon him, and he will take the first opportunity to recede back into the darkness. He will pretend that he is cured, but all that he really learned was to be more careful in his lying. This therefore leaves him worse off than before.
The Light in the Cave)
The second kind of light is when a person fixates on his own problems. He is still in denial towards the rest of the world, but not towards himself. Silently, in his own head, he continually berates himself for failing to live in harmony with his conscience. He launches many campaigns against the darkness, trying to force himself to be better by sheer force of will, but these efforts always end in failure.
A person can white-knuckle his way to some length of acceptable behavior, but he hasn’t actually destroyed the darkness inside. Sooner or later it comes back, and this time with a vengeance. Inevitably the person slips back into his old ways, and usually delves deeper into them than before.
This is the sort of light that Jung was able to observe, and he was correct to be skeptical of it. However, his conclusion that there was no appropriate way to change one’s life was incorrect. A better conclusion would be that repentance was never meant to be an isolated experience.
Bringing Into the Light of Others)
The third kind of light is the one that I mentioned at the start. This is when the guilty freely confesses his wrongs to another. The key difference between this light and the first is that the person wasn’t caught against his will. This time the person is bringing his shame to trusted friends of his own volition, not trying to face the darkness on his own.
All throughout the scriptures we are told that we must confess. Confession is only confession when it involves another. We do not confess to ourselves, or by being found out. We confess by taking the initiative and sharing the darkest parts of our soul with another trusted person. Because of our shame, most of us would suffer in silence for years rather than take this step. Some will suffer in silence for their entire lives, feeling in their hearts as though being truly honest would kill them!
And in some sense it would. It would kill the dark self and replace it with the light. This effect might be difficult to accept by a modern psychologist, but only because it isn’t a natural, measurable thing. It is a miracle. It is absolutely real, but it defies intellectual explanation because God is in it. God is the light that dissipates the darkness, where our own light often only hardens it.
Exactly why God’s light shows up when we confess to one another could be a topic of study in-and-of-itself. For now, let us content ourselves with the fact that one reason why God shows up in these moments is simply because He promised that He would:
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. -James 5:16, Matthew 18:20
24 And Pharaoh called unto Moses, and said, Go ye, serve the Lord; only let your flocks and your herds be stayed: let your little ones also go with you.
25 And Moses said, Thou must give us also sacrifices and burnt offerings, that we may sacrifice unto the Lord our God.
26 Our cattle also shall go with us; there shall not an hoof be left behind; for thereof must we take to serve the Lord our God; and we know not with what we must serve the Lord, until we come thither.
I wonder how the darkness must have affected the people psychologically. Speaking for myself, it sounds like a period of intense loneliness and despair. To all of a sudden have my sight cut off, and to have no one to help me because they are all just as blind as me, and to be unable to tell day from night, or do any work, in many ways I am sure this would break me.
It comes as little surprise then that Pharaoh sounded quite humbled in this conversation. His choice of words were much more subdued than before. There was no more melodramatic confession of sin, no vain promises, no begging for the Lord’s mercy. In as few words as possible he simply told Moses to go into the wilderness.
And yet…even in this moment Pharaoh was still holding something back. Previously Pharaoh said he would let the Israelites go if they left behind their women, children, and flocks. Now he allowed for the women and children, but he was still trying to restrict their flocks.
As with every time before, Moses neither tried to haggle or compromise. In no uncertain terms he reiterated that all of their flocks must come with them: “there shall not an hoof be left behind,” and that was that. In almost every other relationship in life we try to meet one another somewhere in the middle. But with God, we either meet His terms fully and completely or we accept the consequences that follow.
20 But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, so that he would not let the children of Israel go.
21 And the Lord said unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand toward heaven, that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt, even darkness which may be felt.
22 And Moses stretched forth his hand toward heaven; and there was a thick darkness in all the land of Egypt three days:
23 They saw not one another, neither rose any from his place for three days: but all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings.
Pharaoh had given his most solemn pledge yet, approving death and unforgiveness for him and his people if he ever again turned back on his promise. Yet in today’s verses he still “would not let the children of Israel go.”
Thus far Pharaoh had witnessed miracles of transfiguration, pests and vermin, and the destruction of crops and cattle. Now, though, a new sort of affliction was summoned, one more strange and fantastic. This one was an attack on something much more fundamental than any of the previous: the ability to see.
Darkness spread throughout the land, casting the Egyptians into pitch blackness. We are told that the darkness was “thick,” that it could even “be felt.” Some have suggested that the darkness might have been thick ash or dust, actual particles that were so dense as to block out the sun. Verse 22 tells us that in their blindness the Egyptians didn’t dare venture out into the streets, remaining still and alone in the darkness of their own homes.
The connection between this curse and the effects of sin is obvious. Prolonged sin blinds a people to the spiritual world, warping their sense of right and wrong, and obfuscating the connection between behavior and their consequences. A people so afflicted then grope stupidly through their relationships and attitudes, making wrong choices and causing harm without even knowing what they do.
As before, a division is put between the Egyptians and the Israelites, such that the Israelites still have “light in their dwellings.” It is unclear whether the exterior in the land of Goshen was still veiled in darkness, but at the very least we know that in the comfort of their own homes God’s people could still see. This, of course, is symbolic of “the light that shines in the darkness,” Jesus Christ. Even as all the world blinds itself to the truth, Christ is the light that will keep us grounded on solid principles and understanding.
14 And the locusts went up over all the land of Egypt, and rested in all the coasts of Egypt: very grievous were they; before them there were no such locusts as they, neither after them shall be such.
15 For they covered the face of the whole earth, so that the land was darkened; and they did eat every herb of the land, and all the fruit of the trees which the hail had left: and there remained not any green thing in the trees, or in the herbs of the field, through all the land of Egypt.
These verses are full of dramatic phrases to describe just how great the multitude of locusts were. Verse 14 not only makes the point that they were more severe than had ever before been seen, but also the bold claim that neither would there be any swarm so severe ever again! Such a claim could only be made from a place of omniscience or prophecy. We are not told when and how the Lord told one of his servants that there would never be such a mass of locusts again, but apparently He did and the author was aware of that fact.
I’m captivated by the colorful imagery that verse 15 presents: “the land was darkened” by how the locusts “covered the face of the whole earth.” It then continues with the theme of light and color by further describing how “there remained not any green thing.” There is a clear picture being painted of how the locusts took away the color of the land, covering it in darkness.
Going back to the theme of how the curses represent the effects of sin, this description of the locusts seems to highlight how our sins cover and destroy all that was once beautiful, colorful, and growing. In environments of pervasive sin new creation is snuffed out. Think of the Dark Ages, a time where the words of Christ were made inaccessible to the common man, and at the same time innovation and invention halted and even moved backwards. Life became dark and dreary, without inspiration or beauty. Only as the words of scripture were translated, printed, and made available to all did the light of innovation and invention return to the people. When it prevails en masse, sin consumes all that is good and leaves the soul barren. When the truth prevails, it breathes life and color into all.
Previously I considered a passage of scripture that described a dark cloud which falls upon us all, temporarily blinding us from the love of God. This phenomenon has also been referred to as the “Dark Night of the Soul,” and this condition seems to describe Mother Teresa’s experience perfectly.
Though the woman dedicated her life to the service of her fellow man and constantly professed her love for God, she admitted in letters and personal writings that she had ceased to feel His love coming back to her. In her own words she expressed that “even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness and darkness.” She also wrote that “for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear.”
After ten years of this darkness she described a month of reprieve, a time where “the long darkness … that strange suffering” was lifted away and she could feel God’s love again. Later the darkness returned.
Of course one could be cynical about the whole thing. Maybe she was hiding secret sins, maybe she had a mental condition, maybe she was agitating a passing sensation into a consuming obsession.
Maybe.
But having no compelling evidence that these were the case, I prefer to give her the benefit of a doubt. I like to remind myself that even Jesus had his moment of disconnection where he cried out “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). My assumption is that Mother Teresa was simply caught in that same dark cloud which falls on each of us. It comes upon us at different periods of life and for different durations, and for her it appears to have been particularly late in life and of particularly long duration. But I like to believe that like her Savior, she felt her way faithfully through it and finally rested in the light at the end of the tunnel.
And it came to pass that I beheld a tree, whose fruit was desirable to make one happy. And I beheld a rod of iron, and it extended along the bank of the river, and led to the tree by which I stood. And I saw numberless concourses of people, many of whom were pressing forward, that they might obtain the path which led unto the tree by which I stood. And it came to pass that there arose a mist of darkness; yea, even an exceedingly great mist of darkness, insomuch that they who had commenced in the path did lose their way, that they wandered off and were lost. And it came to pass that I beheld others pressing forward, and they came forth and caught hold of the end of the rod of iron; and they did press forward through the mist of darkness, clinging to the rod of iron, even until they did come forth and partake of the fruit of the tree.
COMMENTARY
There arose a mist of darkness; insomuch that they who had commenced in the path did lose their way I have just considered how our hearts will feel subdued and inactive when we are not sincerely striving to follow Christ. And while this is a reason for why we might have a “calloused heart,” it is not the only one. Today’s verses share an allegory for our walk in life and it includes a mist of darkness that descends on us, blinding us from God’s love. And that mist of darkness descends on everyone, even those that aren’t lost in the ways of sin or ignoring their conscience. Even those that are trying their best will at times find themselves in the mist. They will faithfully keep moving forward, but won’t feel the effect of what they’re doing. Even as they advance they will feel as if they’re treading in the same place. They will remain lethargic in the soul, and won’t see God’s light shining about them. They will wonder what they’re doing wrong. And if you are feeling that way perhaps you aren’t doing anything wrong at all. Perhaps you are just passing through a part of life that we all pass through.
And they caught hold of the end of the rod of iron; and did press forward through the mist of darkness, clinging to the rod of iron, until they did come forth and partake of the fruit of the tree As these verses describe, those who finally do overcome this mist don’t do so by holding still until it passes. They keep moving forward, even when they don’t feel like they’re actually progressing. It is always nicer to move onward when feeling bathed in God’s light, but you can move forward even if you don’t. Sometimes God invades our hearts with His love to motivate us to move, but sometimes we have to motivate ourselves and move to where God’s love is waiting.
Spiritual Wanderings 