Holy Clothing and Preaching
“They
are to make these sacred garments for your brother Aaron” (Exodus
28:4). How strange this sounds in the ears of many modern and western
people. Sacred garments?
Were they made of some special holy material? Did they have a different
molecular structure? No, spaces and places, garments and gadgets were
holy because God claimed them and purposed them for his peculiar use.
People invested offerings with holiness when they purposed them to and
for the Lord in keeping with his will. (Note Leviticus 27 for the laws
about things devoted to God in a vow.)
But when those of us who aren’t raised in a setting where sacred garments are part of the landscape, look at religious figures in the world today, tripping over robes, covered in rings and regalia we find it hard to be patient. We also find it hard to believe that the person in that regalia isn’t exalting himself. For myself, I think the question is not, "Are the clothes he’s wearing objectionable?" but, "Is the position he claims objectionable?"
An enlightened Jew would never have had a problem with special clothing. He might have thought the high priest was arrogant or “full of himself” but it wouldn’t have been on the basis of the clothing he wore when he was ministering! The clothes spoke of his function, don’t you see. He was the representative of both God to the people and the representative of the people to God. If his spirit and life outside his regalia was pride-filled and hypocritical, he would have been judged severely by good-willed people—his clothes on formal occasions wouldn’t have entered into it. The truth is, his clothes would have witnessed against him; his clothes would call him hypocrite!
But when those of us who aren’t raised in a setting where sacred garments are part of the landscape, look at religious figures in the world today, tripping over robes, covered in rings and regalia we find it hard to be patient. We also find it hard to believe that the person in that regalia isn’t exalting himself. For myself, I think the question is not, "Are the clothes he’s wearing objectionable?" but, "Is the position he claims objectionable?"
An enlightened Jew would never have had a problem with special clothing. He might have thought the high priest was arrogant or “full of himself” but it wouldn’t have been on the basis of the clothing he wore when he was ministering! The clothes spoke of his function, don’t you see. He was the representative of both God to the people and the representative of the people to God. If his spirit and life outside his regalia was pride-filled and hypocritical, he would have been judged severely by good-willed people—his clothes on formal occasions wouldn’t have entered into it. The truth is, his clothes would have witnessed against him; his clothes would call him hypocrite!
We’re
fond of saying clothes don’t matter and at the same time we have a
healthy fear of creating a crass clergy/laity arrangement and we can’t
always keep these two things in their place. Clothes did matter once.
“Ah, but those days are gone; special clothing is now dispensationally
objectionable.” There’s truth in that, but it isn’t all the truth. What
we don’t want to do is this: we don’t want to dismiss the special
clothing and miss the point of the special clothing. What’s behind God’s choice of sacred clothing for his ministers in the OT arrangement?
Something
wondrous was happening when the priest ministered and he was not
permitted to minister in those ways without the special clothes. The
very sight of his garments bore witness to the fact that he was
approaching God on behalf of the people. The clothes spoke their own
message. In addition to the man, his family background, his marital
status, his physical condition, his known orthodoxy, his devotion to God
and the people—in addition to all this, his special clothes spoke of a
special time, a special function and an approach to a holy God on behalf
of his People is signalled by his appearance in these special clothes.
The clothes didn’t make the man, they identified
him. The clothes didn’t create the moment, they marked it out. They
said, “This moment is not like all other moments. Something special is
happening at this time between God and his People.”
Yes, yes, but what does all that mean to us? Maybe that’s not the right question. Maybe the question should be: “What should
all that mean to us?” We say, “Clothes aren’t important!” only when we
aren’t thinking. We know better when some special occasions come around.
We don’t expect women to wear lingerie to the supermarket or men to
wear swimsuits to a downtown worship assembly. We even smile at top
executives who are dressed in business suits and running shoes. We would
wonder (under normal circumstances) at someone coming to a
grief-stricken home to offer condolences while wearing a jazzy shirt and
Bermuda shorts.
And
we know the significance of clothing when a loving husband or wife dies
and we see their dresses or shirts hanging in the closet or when some
time after a tragic death we come across a pair of baby shoes or a
teenager’s sweatshirt.
Maybe we
can’t wear special clothes while ministering before God but perhaps we
can think our way through to the point behind the holy clothing of God’s
ancient people.
It’s worthwhile noting that the garments of the priest are discussed before the priesthood itself. This surely adds emphasis to the point that the garments are filled with significance for Israel’s worship and life before God.
There
are white linen undergarments (28:42-43) which assured modesty, and a
tunic (39) which was common to all priests. The other four pieces relate
peculiarly to the high priest. [See the dictionaries for discussion and
description of these articles.]
So
the high priest would wear undergarments, a tight-fitting shirt or
tunic over which he wore a splendid blue robe (“the robe of the ephod”)
which went down to his feet. The robe had bells on the bottom so that
when the high priest was in the holy of holies ministering on behalf of
the nation, his movements could be followed by those outside. In
addition he must announce his coming into and his leaving the presence
of the Lord by the sound of the bells; he wasn’t allowed to “barge into”
God’s presence and then simply disappear. 28:31-35.
Over
the robe he wore a beautiful jacket (the ephod itself) which was made
of two pieces. It went on over his head, was joined at the shoulders and
tied with a sash at the waist. On the shoulders there were two stones
placed which represented the twelve tribes. He was their representative
and carried the burden of them before the Lord (28:9-12).
On
the ephod/jacket the high priest wore a breast-piece (28:15-30). It was
attached to the ephod with rings and sashes and on it were two rows of
six stones, worn over his heart for Israel’s sake (29). There were also
two stones, the Urim and Thummim (30) which were the stones of judgment.
Apparently in some critical times the Lord gave his “yes” or “no”
judgment to something put to him by the nation’s representative.
The
high priest ministered before God with his head covered (a truth we
need to note when looking at. 1Cor 11:4ff) with a turban on which a
“plate” of some kind was placed. On the “plate” the words HOLY TO
JEHOVAH were to be engraved. The man who wore this was “Israel” while he
wore it and not just an individual.
In 28:40 we hear this, “Make tunics, sashes and headbands for Aaron’s sons, to give them dignity and honour.” But why give them honour if not that in honouring them they were honouring the ministry?
Clothing
considerations aside (but not quite), is there not a tendency for those
who minister representatively to play down the dignity of the position
to which they’ve been called? Are
we not so anxious to be “one of the boys” and “no different than
anybody else” that the people have begun to see us in just that light? In
our mad dash to “equality” in every conceivable area, have we not lost
something not only precious, but something important? I hear ministers
who are now treated like “one of the boys,” a “good ole Joe”—I hear them
whimper and lament the fact that their position is no longer respected.
Maybe the people lose respect for the “office” when the “officers”
themselves have lost it; maybe the people have simply taken the minister
at his word and now see him as nothing more than “one of the boys.”
Something
similar happens to politicians. They forever top the list (or stay near
the top) of those least trusted by the general public. They’re amazed
at this despite the fact that they tirelessly and publicly roast one
another as liars and prevaricators. Socrates is quoted as saying, “You
can always tell when a politician’s lying, you can see his lips moving.”
Adlai Stevenson is alleged to have said, “A lie is an abomination unto
the Lord; a very present help in time of need.” When asked if
politicians told lies, especially secretaries of state (or foreign
ministers), former US presidential hopeful, general Haig, said, “Of
course!” As a profession, politicians have undermined their own
credibility in many ways.
I
think the same is true with those of us who minister the Word. It isn’t
just the failure of many of us to live consistent lives of integrity
that I’m talking about. Those of us who have failed in important areas
to bring our behaviour into line with our Story have a lot to answer
for. At this point, however, I’m talking about those of us who minister
the Word but who have no word to minister. William Willimon is right. In
response to someone who said, “The troubles in the Church begin when
the pastor forgets he’s a person” he insisted, “No, the trouble in the
Church begins when the pastor forgets he’s a pastor.” We are so anxious
to be part of the “helping professions” that we have no “word from God”
for the people because we now don’t know any “word from God” because
we’re so busy reading material on interpersonal relationship skills and
problem resolution. And because many of us have come to see ourselves as
just another one of the “helping professions” we begrudge any time
spent in prayerfully reading, studying and teaching that Word.
I’m
not suggesting that counsellors, administrators, benevolence officers
and such are unimportant; God forbid! I’m saying they aren’t in the same
area of service as those who are called to minister the Word (see Acts
6:2-4). Levites worked with the Tabernacle and service but they weren’t
priests! Ministers of the Word ought to acknowledge their calling and
get on with it. If we ourselves play down the “ministry of the Word” why
should we expect people to view it as something special? Yes, yes, we
all know about those ministers who are virtual recluses who do nothing
but study and are cut off from people. They need to have their heads and hearts examined. But for every one of those I know or have heard of, I know or have heard of a hundred of the other kind.
Arthur
Gossip told of an assembly that was looking for a preacher. The
deputation listened to the speaker and later gathered to discuss their
response to him. A serious, shy man finally spoke with deep intensity
and yet hesitantly, as if very afraid that he would be misunderstood. He
said, “The fact is, I for one am set down among earthy and material and
sometimes squalid things; these shape my life; and the church services
are my one chance. Unless I see God there, I shall forget about him
altogether, shall lose sight of him, amid the din and dust and press of
life. And while this preacher taught me, interested me, even fascinated
me, while he was preaching I was given none of that needed sense of
God.”
It
wouldn’t be right to deny the priesthood of every believer! It isn’t
right either to dishonour the ministry of the Word. If by our casual
approach to it we cheapen it and if we avoid prayerful study of the
Word, we ought to stay out of the pulpit!