I sometimes wish the ark had survived somehow. The description here in Exodus sounds beautiful. I’d like to run my fingers over the hammered-gold cherubim.
And the tabernacle! It wasn’t just a tent, was it? The house of God was worthy of a king. It was worthy of THE King.
God showed wisdom when He allowed the ark and tent to fall by the wayside. As beautiful as God’s temporary home on earth must have been, it was just that: temporary. It served it’s purpose. And it’s gone. I think God knew there would be those who would want to worship the workmanship. Even today there are people obsessed with the details of the ark and tent, who spend their lives looking for the ark like Indiana Jones.
Psalm 90:1-2 reminded me of something:
Lord, through all generations you have been our home! Before the mountains were born, before you gave birth to the earth and the world, from beginning to end, you are God. (NLT)
As magnificent as the ark and tent must have been, it was never about the ark and tent. That’s where God would dwell on earth. God would dwell. I love the psalmist’s statement that God Himself is our home.
You know the feeling after a long absence, when you unlock the front door of your house and step inside. You are home. There is a sense of relief, of comfort and welcome, of familiarity. There is no place like home.
That’s what I think about the Presence of God. With the hustle and bustle of the world, fighting off Satan’s arrows all day, it’s good to come Home, to open my Bible, to be still and know that He is God, and He is with me.
I read about the beautiful ark and tent here in Exodus and see God, arms open wide saying, “Come. Come to me. Come home.”