How To Preach The Tabernacle

by Will Jackson

Most of our people will likely encounter the Tabernacle out of duty, not delight. In Exodus 26 and 27, we read about the Tabernacle, specifically the steps for building it.

While the Tabernacle may seem boring to most Christians, these passages are meant to strengthen our faith.

So, how can we preach the significance and relevance of the Tabernacle?

Here is an approach that I have found fruitful.

A Place to Dwell

Before unpacking the Tabernacle passages, our people may need a bit of a foundation.

The primary purpose for the Tabernacle can be found right there in the name—well, the Hebrew name at least. The term most of us use, “tabernacle,” comes from the Latin word for “tent,” but it was used as a substitute for the Hebrew word mishkan. Here’s is where the significance begins to unfold.

Mishkan literally means “dwelling place.” The Tabernacle was first and foremost a place where God dwelt with His people in history.

But, a common question our people will ask is, “When approaching the Tabernacle in our Bibles: ‘Why do we still need this thing? The whole Bible is supposed to help me with life ... my life. Beyond the historical record, why is this in our Bibles? Why do we need the Tabernacle?”

First, it’s helpful to clarify the insignificance of the Tabernacle.

Christians today no longer need the mechanics of the Tabernacle. Jesus fulfilled everything the Tabernacle was given to do.

Yet, Christians today still need the message the Tabernacle preached.

Here’s my recommendation for preaching on the Tabernacle: Leverage these passages to preach not only God’s heart to dwell with His people, but also His broader plan to redeem them.

In Exodus 26 and 27, we see how the design plans for the Tabernacle move us through four core elements of the gospel: Creation, Rebellion, Redemption, and New Creation.

In a prefigured way, the Tabernacle preached this ultimate paradigm to ancient Israel, and it can do the same thing for us today.

Step-by-Step

Beginning in Exodus 26, we don’t just see blueprints; we observe instructions.

These passages aren’t just verbalizing a finished schematic. We get the step-by-step procedure. Do this, then do that.

Here’s a breakdown of the seven major sections:

·      26:1-6 – curtains

·      26:7-14 – outer tent

·      26:15-30 – frames

·      26:31-37 – inner veil and the entrance

·      27:1-8 – the altar

·      27:9-19 – the courtyard

·      27:20-21 – oil for the lamp

These give us the basic shape of the Tabernacle passages, but how do we grasp its purpose? For this, we’ve got to key in on the design elements?

It’s in the design elements that we receive this message of the gospel.

1.     The Tabernacle points to Creation.

As a rule of thumb, Exodus is riffing off the original tune supplied in the book of Genesis, and the Tabernacle section is no exception.

First, there’s intentionality to the colors of the tent—usually a combination of blue, purple, and scarlet. With these colors, we have royalty, perhaps the color of sacrifice, but also the color of the heavens.

Second, there’s intentionality to the direction the tabernacle faces. Length-wise, it runs from east to west. The opening to the tabernacle and the opening of the outer court (the gate) both faced east.

Third, there’s intentionality in the embroidery. The only artistic depiction on the Tabernacle is the embroidery of angels—cherubim.

With these intentional features, God is intending to anchor our minds all the way back in the Garden of Eden.

In Genesis 1 & 2, we see a picture of heaven meets earth, which is depicted in the particular colors of the curtains. Then, in Genesis 3, the narrative turns. Instead of reading about how God created, we read about how we rebelled. The Garden is treated like a fortress, with its gate on the eastern side. This eastern gate is protected by an angel—a cherubim.

See, the Tabernacle is a replica of the Garden of Eden. Later in Israel’s history, the Temple was based on this same principle but amplified even further.

God was creating spaces for His dwelling with humans. This is the narrative of creation. The Garden was good because it was where God was. Banishment from the Garden was bad, not because we lost the Garden, but because we lost access to God.

God’s presence is His greatest gift to humanity, but because we live in active rebellion, His presence is appropriately sobering. The Tabernacle reminds us of how things were supposed to be, but also, it reminds us that things are not that way anymore.

The Tabernacle points to Creation, but also ...

2.     The Tabernacle points to the Rebellion.

Let’s look for a moment at the dimensions of the Tabernacle. What we see are three distinct zones that paint a really important picture.

Moving from the outermost to the innermost, we first have the outer court area, protected by a fence. It’s 50 yards long and 25 yards wide (one quarter of a football field), and the fence is about 7.5 feet tall. The outer court created a wide berth. It protected you from accidentally walking into the tent or through its curtain walls, which would be fatal.

From the outer court, then, you move into the Tabernacle itself—a massive tent constructed with something similar to modern-day pipe and drape. Its first room functioned like a foyer. Here is where the lampstand and the bread table would be. This first room was about 30 feet long and 15 feet tall. This was the Holy Place.

Then, you have the innermost—the Most Holy Place or the Holy of Holies. Think of this like the vault of a bank. This was a 15’x15’x15’ room, a perfect cube. Inside here, the ark of the covenant would reside—the fixture that represented God’s presence, and it was protected by a thick curtain called the veil.

All of this is intentional. All of this communicates. None of this is casual.

Okay, let’s go back to the cherubim.

After Adam and Eve sinned and were sent out, the gate to the Garden was protected by a cherubim with a flaming sword. Notice, the Tabernacle doesn’t depict cute little Cupids. These are death angels. Their presence is meant to warn those who would come near the intensity of God’s presence.

See, the Tabernacle is all about borders and barriers.

In the beginning, in the Garden, things were whole. And in an instant, everything changed. Adam and Eve sinned, and to protect them from immediate and all-consuming wrath, God pushed them outside of His presence. Again, God’s presence is amazing, but for anyone dripping in sin, it is terrifying.

Just as the Tabernacle is the means by which the people received the gift of God’s presence, it was also designed to protect them from the heat of His holiness.

The Tabernacle is a reminder that we can’t go back into the Garden. The Tabernacle preaches that if we want to be near Yahweh, our sin has to be addressed. Praise God—He has made a way.

His heartbeat is love.

3.     The Tabernacle points to Redemption.

First, let’s consider the altar in the courtyard.

Some churches utilize benches for kneeling that they may call altars. That’s not what’s being described here. Think of this more like an ancient fire pit.

This altar was 7.5’ x 7.5’ and 4.5’ high. This is where Israel would place their burnt offerings. This was their most common reference point for dealing with their sin.

Preacher, this is crucial for your audience: To deal with sin, they had to shed the blood of an animal—that animal served as a substitute. The animal never deserves to be killed. We do.

But this is grace. God accepts the animal in our place. And this is exactly what we see back at the Garden.

Genesis 3:20-21.

²⁰ The man called his wife’s name Eve, because she was the mother of all living. ²¹ And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skins and clothed them.

To deal with their sin, but also to love them, God kills an animal on behalf of Adam and Eve—he receives that animal’s blood to satisfy the guilt penalty they had earned for themselves.

The altar would become a staple of Israel's spiritual life. But the main tent, the Holy of Holies in particular, served as atonement headquarters (Exodus 26:31-35).

This veil separated the foyer from the vault. It was the final barrier. If you were to pass by the veil, you would be in the core. This zone was so intense, so special, only the High Priest could enter it, and he could only do it once a year. This is what we call the Day of Atonement (Lev 16).

Even with this provision, the atonement system was meant only as a shadow of something greater on the horizon.

Hebrews 10:1-4 says, For since the law has but a shadow of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered every year, make perfect those who draw near. ...  ³ But in these sacrifices there is a reminder of sins every year. ⁴ For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins.

The author of Hebrews is showing us that the Tabernacle was a mechanism for Redemption, but it couldn’t solve our sin problem once and for all.

Fast forward from Exodus: On the cross, Jesus dies as a willing sacrifice.

What happens at the moment of his death?

In the Temple, the veil that guarded the Holy of Holies is ripped down the middle by God himself.

It’s as if, in this intense moment of grief and love, God tears down the curtain that has kept Him from the people He adores. Because God laid down his life as the sacrifice, He doesn’t have to hold back. He doesn’t have to guard us from His presence, from His glory.

He is the sacrifice to end all sacrifices.

He has redeemed us to new life. His blood is sufficient.

And now that he has Redeemed, we can see him actively restoring this broken world.

4.     The Tabernacle points to New Creation.

Here’s the beauty of what Christ is doing. Not only does he forgive our sins. By his blood, we are welcomed back to the Garden.

Remember—it’s all about the details. Here, we zoom in on the intentionality of the precious metals used. Gold in the innermost, then silver, then bronze. Think about how Olympic medals communicate degrees of prestige and ranking.

Notice that the closer we move toward the innermost part of the tabernacle, the more precious the metals become.

This space is dazzling, and this is the vision we get in Ezekiel, and it’s the same vision we see in Revelation.

Revelation 21:10-16.

¹⁰ And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great, high mountain, and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God, ¹¹ having the glory of God, (elsewhere described as a golden city, lined with jewels) 

But here’s the cool part. In Revelation 21:16, John writes, ... And he measured the city with his rod, 12,000 stadia. Its length and width and height are equal.

Equal dimensions. A perfect cube.

This is the Holy of Holies in the Tabernacle. This is the Holy of Holies in the Temple.

The City of God is the Holy of Holies come down for us to inhabit.

In other words, in the new heavens and the new earth, God’s dwelling place isn’t confined to a location—the Garden has been expanded.

Revelation 21:22-26.

²² And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. ²³ And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. ²⁴ By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, ²⁵ and its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there.

This is our hope.

This is the culmination of everything Jesus did 2,000 years ago and what he is doing now

We don’t need the Tabernacle to protect us from God.

We don’t need the Tabernacle to channel our sacrifices and mediate our worship.

We don’t need the Tabernacle to get right with God or to stay in His presence.

But we need what the Tabernacle preached.

We need the hope of Jesus.

When life is hard, when life doesn’t make sense, or when our faith feels dry, we have these drumbeats to go to: Creation, Rebellion, Redemption, New Creation.