WHO ARE WE? WHO AM I?
Exodus 24:1-11 tells us of the confirmation of the covenant God made with Israel.
Moses returns from God with the concrete applications of the Decalogue and the people give their covenanted word: "Everything the Lord has said we will do" (24:3). They weren't promising to be sinless, they were offering heartfelt covenant loyalty, which, while it would fall short of sinlessness, would always be a genuine effort to please and honour Yahweh. That's what they promised but they didn't give it. Moses committed the laws to writing, either personally or by the hand of someone else (24:4).
Next morning he built an altar, which signified the presence of and access to Yahweh through sacrifice, and he set up twelve stone pillars that spoke of the tribes of Israel who covenanted themselves to Yahweh (24:4). Since the special priesthood had not yet been set up, young men were appointed to offer the sacrifices as peace offerings (24:5). Half of the blood Moses dashed against the altar which related the covenant toward God, who graciously received it as atoning blood; but it was also a token that he was bringing himself under the vow of covenantal loyalty (see Genesis 15:9-18 with Jeremiah 34:18). Moses reads all the words of the Law and formally declares the words of covenant enactment as he scatters the rest of the blood on the people (see Heb 9:19-20). To this covenant the people formally commit themselves.
In fulfillment of the instructions in vv. 1-2 Moses, Aaron, his two sons and seventy elders of Israel climb the mountain.
It's hardly surprising that 24:11 tells us, "But God did not raise his hand against these leaders of the Israelites" since he had invited them there to meet him. Still, this was the Lord who buried Egypt; this was the Lord who dwelled up a mountain in the midst of quaking, fire, smoke and deafening trumpet sounds; this was the God whose voice melted their spines and who threatened with death any man or animal that so much as touched the mountain (19:16-24). Would it surprise us if they had gone up with smiles on their faces? The only God they knew had (so to speak) hidden grace behind judgment.
This time they were seeing a different face of God. They went up the mountain and into his presence and, wonder of wonders, he didn't kill them. In fact, they ate in his presence (24:11).
The meal may have been part of the covenant enactment or it may have been a meal that celebrated the fact that the nation was already in covenant relationship with Yahweh (cf. Genesis 31:54; Exodus 18:12). One thing's sure, they were up the mountain at God's invitation so they knew they were doing right and they saw another side of God. He isn't forever judging or condemning. God wishes us well! If judgment falls, it must be a severe mercy and although he may not satisfy us with a long list of reasons for the severity of his judgment, we are assured by his record on our behalf that he doesn't afflict without cause.
Once when Ezekiel was aghast at what God was doing to the people he protested against the severity of the judgment. God tells him to hold his peace while he showed him what they were doing (Ezekiel 8—11, esp. 11:13). Later, he repeats that he will judge them severely but assures the tormented prophet (14:22-23), "They will come to you, and when you see their conduct and their actions, you will be consoled regarding the disaster I have brought upon Jerusalem every disaster I have brought upon it. You will be consoled when you see their conduct and their actions, for you will know that I have done nothing in it without cause, declares the Sovereign Lord."
But here in Exodus 24 they see another side of God. They see a God who seeks peace with the offenders, a God who seeks friendship and fellowship with sinners. The glory of what they did see was all they could take (and all God was willing to give) but it was enough to underscore the fact that not only did they not die, they feasted in the presence of the awesome Lord. Seeing God this way enabled them to see his judgments in a new light—they were a means to an end.
They had a chance to see each other in a new and fresh way. A few days ago they were just seventy more men, all with ordinary names, having grown up together, learned their alphabet and sums together, played together, got married and lived in one another's daily sight. All that would tend to make them "good ole Jacob" to one another. But today, as they looked around at each other, they saw someone who had been invited by the sovereign Lord to eat with him. The White House? Ten Downing Street? The Kremlin? No, this was an invitation into the presence of Yahweh. Had they the eyes to see, their fellow-feasters would never be the same. A long look at each other in this setting of privilege and blessing and glory could make a profound and lifelong difference to how they would view each other. They didn't cease to be humans with all the failings that attach to humans but God who knew each of them better than he knew himself invested them with dignity and worth. In our stupidity and moral weakness we might do it, but when people have been called into God's presence we can no longer look at them as if they hadn't been.
And they had a chance to see themselves in fresh light. There's the need for balance in how we view ourselves as well as others. It's possible, of course, to think too highly of ourselves but on reflection, the sensitive people I know find it hard to think well of themselves. It wouldn't surprise me if the seventy men who climbed that mountain to meet Yahweh were thinking about their shortcomings. What they needed to think of also was the fact that he who knew them better than they knew themselves and who saw their shortcomings more clearly than they—that one was the one who had invited them in friendship into his awesome presence. Later, as the days became weeks and the weeks months and the months years they had the chance to think of that wonderful day when God's invitation came for them to eat in his presence. (And Christians can relate all that to the Christ of the cross and resurrection.)
For sensitive Christians who tend to dwell too much on their guilt there is a difficult but needed lesson to learn. If the one who needs the cup of cold water for thirst, the warm clothes for a naked body, the word of forgiveness for sins committed if that one happens to be yourself, you must not withhold these things. You are no more your own Lord than you are mine. Whoever needs the kindness and the arm around the shoulder should be given it even if it's yourself. Do take heed to GK Chesterton's poem that asks for new eyes to see himself as he should:
SUNDER ME FROM MY BONES, O SWORD OF GOD
TILL THEY STAND STARK AND STRANGE AS DO THE TREES
THAT I WHOSE HEART GOES UP WITH THE SOARING WOODS
MAY MARVEL AS MUCH AT THESE.
SUNDER ME FROM MY BLOOD THAT IN THE DARK
I HEAR THAT ANCESTRAL RIVER RUN
LIKE BRANCHING BURIED FLOODS THAT FIND THE SEA
BUT NEVER SEE THE SUN.
GIVE ME MIRACULOUS EYES TO SEE MY EYES
THOSE ROLLING MIRRORS MADE ALIVE IN ME
TERRIBLE CRYSTALS MORE INCREDIBLE
THAN ALL THE THINGS THEY SEE.
SUNDER ME FROM MY SOUL, THAT I MAY SEE
THE SINS LIKE STREAMIING WOUNDS, THE LIFE’S BRAVE BEAT
TILL I SHALL SAVE MYSELF AS I WOULD SAVE
A STRANGER IN THE STREET.
But there were seventy of them up that mountain at dinner with God (24:9) and that means they represented the entire people (see Ezekiel 8:11, Matthew 18:21-22 and note that 7 and 10 and their multiples speaks of completeness and wholeness.) What God was extending to this representative group, he was extending to the entire nation. What God extended to Israel he was extending to all the nations. What he has offered to disciples of Jesus the Messiah, he offers to all people everywhere. And that's good news.
Can such people live just any way they want? Should they?
©2004 Jim McGuiggan. All materials are free to be copied and used as long as money is not being made.
Many thanks to brother Ed Healy, for allowing me to post from his website, the abiding word.com.