A young man stood in a
still desert, hands at his hips, lost in thought. A mountain loomed
overhead not so far away. But he stood toward the edge of the
encampment, in a clear enough space for his work. All around lay
heaps of raw materials: piles of gold trinkets, silver brooches and
earrings, bronze rings and utensils; spools of colorful yarn, yards
of linen, goatskins and rams' skins; thin cords of reddish-brown
timber from the many shrubs and low trees dotting the landscape;
small assortments of gemstones; pouches of spices; and so much more.
All, at the young man and his assistant's direction, had been sorted
into piles.
And with a team of
willing volunteers under their command, plenty of work had been done
already. The ten curtains, about forty-two feet by six feet each,
woven of fine linen with blue and purple and scarlet yarn and angelic
designs, were maybe the most challenging and most important. But
they were done. Loops on the edges, linked by gold rings, fastened
the ten curtains into a unit. Eleven larger curtains, forty-five by
six feet each, of goat's hair had a similar design and arrangement,
and a massive skin covering was underway to keep everything safe from
the harsh desert sun. Meanwhile, craftsmen were arranging wooden
frames and bars, and he'd started teaching another team the art of
metallurgy to produce a gold covering for it all.
But his fast-paced mind
was already racing and dancing over the next project – one he'd
handle personally, from beginning to end, if he had his way. A
wooden crate, not too large – about 3'9" long, 2'3" wide,
and just as high as wide – overlaid outside and inside with purest
gold, with gold rings for support by gold-overlaid wooden poles. But
it was the more intricate goldwork on the top – this model throne
and cherubic flanking – that would really excite his talent. He
wanted it perfect in every detail; he yearned to see them as lifelike
as possible, as if they could fly from his workmanship to heaven and
back. What he was about to make was no ordinary artwork. It would
be indwelt with power and flame and brightness. If the tent he'd
woven was a universe in miniature, he was about to remake the heaven
beyond the stars. With his own hands, Bezalel thought, and with his
very own fingers and his very own tools, he would craft a covering of
such beauty that the Consuming Fire of the Almighty would touch and
caress it, that it should be a portal to God's eternity. The whole
project of this ark of the covenant and this tabernacle seemed too
vast, Bezalel thought, and he was so young, so fresh from Egyptian
slavery. But then he felt a breeze. And in the breeze, somehow,
Bezalel felt his heart thrill, his blood pulsate, his soul waken to
the light. He felt a wind raging inside him, a tempest of action
waiting to be unleashed. And so, with all doubt blown away like dust
in the wind, he steeled himself for the work to which he was driven.
When we think of the Book
of Exodus, more likely than not, we think about the familiar story of
the actual exit from Egypt: the burning bush, the call of Moses, the
confrontations with Pharaoh, the ten plagues, the passage through the
sea. Or maybe we're in less of a story mode, so we think of the
lists of laws, starting with the Ten Commandments we read in chapter
twenty. But we're less likely to remember that basically the last
entire third of the whole book is a continuous treatment of one key
project: the plans for, and production of, the Tabernacle and all its
accoutrements. Everything needed as a place for God to dwell with
his people, which is exactly the climax of the book: when the
glory-cloud takes up residence in this well-furnished tent, and Moses
no longer has to go mountain-climbing every time he needs to mediate
between God and the people. But for that to be possible, and for the
whole sacrificial system to begin, they need all the physical pieces
to make that happen. Those don't just appear out of nowhere. They
don't drop from the sky. They need to be made, and they need to be
made well.
Like any major
construction project, it'll take a team. But at the head of this
team are two men, standing in for the whole nation. One man,
Oholiab, is from the far-back reaches of the encampment, as the
tribes are to be arranged; he's from the tribe of Dan. But the other
man is from Judah, from the vanguard of the Israelite march through
the wilderness. Bezalel, the real leader of this enterprise. He's
probably not a biblical figure you think of very much. He doesn't
have the name recognition of an Adam, a Noah, a Moses, a David. He's
got no book named after him; he has to settle for my cat being named
for him. But Bezalel the man, Bezalel the Judahite, was responsible
for the holy project that consumes the last part of Exodus and makes
possible everything that follows. And he's far from
uninteresting.
See, the Bible names for
us Oholiab's father Ahisamach (Exodus 31:6). That's not uncommon –
we often get a father's name for various biblical characters. A
grandfather's name is unusual, but we hear that Bezalel is the son of
Uri, and that Uri himself was the son of a Judahite named Hur (Exodus
31:2). And if we've been reading closely, that name should ring a
bell. In Exodus 17, during the Battle at Rephidim when the
Israelites were being harassed by the Amalekites, Moses stood on a
hill with arms raised up in blessing and his staff uplifted, to
ensure the army's victory. But he couldn't keep his hands up by
himself. So he sat down, and his one arm was held up by his brother
Aaron. And who held up the other arm? Hur. The Bible doesn't
bother explaining where he came from. Later Jewish tradition says he
was either the husband or the son of Moses' older sister Miriam – a
natural counterpart to Aaron. And then, when Moses and the elders
ate a covenant banquet in God's presence, and when Moses was called
up into the cloud to receive the Law, whom did he put in charge while
he was gone? “Behold, Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a
dispute, let him go to them”
(Exodus 24:14).
It
was while Moses was on the mountain, communing with God and beholding
the pattern for the tabernacle and its contents, that the Israelites
down below were rebelling. Deciding Moses was a goner, they demanded
new gods they could actually see in their midst: a golden idol shaped
like a calf. Aaron, one of Moses' deputies – we hear about his
part in everything, how he gives in to their demands and makes the
idol as asked. Where has Hur gone? He never shows up again. Jewish
tradition suggests he stood in the way of their idolatry, and the mob
killed him, making him one of the first martyrs. The faithful
grandson of a man like that – well, he couldn't be very old when it
happened. His early thirties, at most; and later rabbis suggested
that Bezalel may have only been a teenager – that it was a
teenager, grandson of a godly man, whom God chose to be responsible
for the holiest construction project of that generation.
That
seems strange, doesn't it? That's not a choice you or I would make,
to take the most important work and hand it over to somebody that
young, who's probably never had a chance to even try his hand at
something remotely like it. What practice is he likely to have had,
growing up doing hard labor in Egypt? And yet God chooses him. In
fact, the Bible tells us, God says, “I have called
by name Bezalel”
(Exodus 31:2). God has singled him out, appointed him personally and
specifically. And you know, the Hebrew phrase here, calling by name
– that's not a common one. Who else gets 'called by name' in the
Old Testament? Usually, it's God himself – when people “call
upon the name of the LORD”
(Genesis 26:25, etc.). Once, it's the stars, which God “brings
out … by number, calling them all by name”
(Isaiah 40:26). And then, once, it's Israel, to whom God says in
Isaiah 43, “Fear
not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are
mine”
(Isaiah 43:1). A list with the LORD
God Almighty, the blazing stars in the sky, God's elect and holy
nation as a whole... and this one young man Bezalel. Bezalel is
important enough to belong on that list. Bezalel is important enough
to have his individuality singled out by God like that. One Jewish
tradition says that Bezalel was chosen and had his name written down
in a heavenly book even before Adam was created. Now that's some
calling! Bezalel is the very definition of a man with a calling on
his life, as much so if not more than any of the prophets.
But
Bezalel has something else going for him. When God lets Moses in on
his plans, God adds, “I
have filled him with the Spirit of God”
(Exodus 31:3). Now, the Spirit of God, the Spirit of the LORD,
was plenty active in the days of the Old Testament. Sometimes the
Spirit is said to be 'upon'
someone – the Spirit 'was
upon'
judges like Jephthah (Judges 11:29). The Spirit 'came
upon'
Levites like Jahaziel and Gentiles like Balaam to make them prophesy
truth (2 Chronicles 20:14). The Spirit 'rushed
upon'
warriors like Samson and David (Judges 14:19; 1 Samuel 16:13). The
Spirit 'fell
upon'
prophets like Ezekiel (Ezekiel 11:5). The Spirit was even present
'in'
Joseph (Genesis 41:38). We're even told that the Spirit 'clothed'
the priest Zechariah in the days of King Joash – Zechariah, who was
stoned to death for speaking out (2 Chronicles 24:20). But do you
know how many times a person in the Old Testament is said to be
'filled'
with the Spirit, the most radical term yet? Not many. Micah, the
prophet, announces, “As
for me, I am filled with power, with the Spirit of the LORD,
and with justice and might, to declare to Jacob his transgression and
to Israel his sin”
(Micah 3:8). Maybe Joshua was, because once Moses laid hands on him,
he was “full
of the spirit of wisdom”
(Deuteronomy 34:9). But before either of them, twice Bezalel is said
to be “filled
with the Spirit of God”
(Exodus 31:3; 35:31). We should take special notice of Bezalel
today: he's the very
first Spirit-filled
believer
in the Bible!
Others
are moved by the Spirit, touched by the Spirit, even indwelt by the
Spirit, but Bezalel is all but unique in being “filled
with the Spirit.”
And if the Spirit gives gifts, well, Bezalel has them in abundance.
Just look at all the qualities he has. God himself describes them.
Through being filled with the Spirit, Bezalel is filled with
“wisdom.”
He receives a special gift of skill to apply what he sees and knows
in making decisions. Bezalel is filled with “understanding.”
He receives a special gift of ability to logically reason through
what he can't yet see. His brainpower is amped up. Bezalel is
filled with “knowledge.”
He receives a special gift of awareness of and familiarity with God,
and not just with God, but God's creation. Whole fields of science,
math, art, what he's surely never had the chance to study – he's
supernaturally familiar with them. He's even filled with “all
craftsmanship,”
or “all
works.”
All this doesn't have to stay within the confines of Bezalel's head.
He receives a special gift of hands-on practical achievement of what
he knows, understands, and applies. Bezalel is Tesla, Einstein,
DaVinci, and the Wright Brothers, all rolled into one (Exodus 31:3),
the gift of God (Proverbs 2:6)!
But
there are specific forms of work, specific kinds of craftsmanship,
Bezalel is equipped with. He's filled with this abilities “to
make artistic designs”
– literally, to think thoughts or plan plans – and “to
make in gold, and in silver, and in bronze, and in cutting of stones
to fill, and in carving of timber – to make in all workmanship”
(Exodus 31:4-5). With those gifts, and complemented by Oholiab's
God-given gifting as “an
engraver and designer and embroiderer in blue and purple and scarlet
yarns and fine-twined linen”
(Exodus 38:23), Bezalel is more than competent in every sort of
artistic endeavor and every sort of crafty construction that's set
before him – all gifts given by the Spirit of God who fills him,
rages like a creative tempest inside him.
All
this is necessary for them to make what God describes: “the
tent of meeting, and the ark of the testimony, and the mercy-seat
that's on it, and all the furnishings of the tent, the table and its
utensils, and the pure lampstand with its utensils, and the altar of
incense, and the altar of burnt offering with all its utensils, and
the basin and its stand, and the finely worked garments, the holy
garments for Aaron the priest and the garments of his sons, for their
service as priests, and the anointing oil and the fragrant incense
for the Holy Place”
(Exodus 31:7-11). Bezalel has to engage in those tasks because he
has a tabernacle complex to make and fill and furnish, and he has the
qualities he has because the Spirit is filling and gifting him to
equip him for those tasks.
And the tabernacle, like the temple after it, was designed to be
something like a scale-model of the universe – but put back in
order with God at the heart of everything. That's why the blue and
purple are so prominent: the colors of the evening sky. That's the
point of the way the tabernacle is designed, and the point of its
being consecrated on the first day of the new year (cf. Exodus 40:2).
So
if the tabernacle is a model universe, what does that make of the man
who builds it? Think about the role Bezalel is playing in this!
What three gifts did the Spirit fill him with? Wisdom,
understanding, knowledge. In Proverbs, we read what qualities God
used to make the universe: “The
LORD
by wisdom
founded the earth; by understanding
he established the heavens; by his knowledge
the deeps broke open and the clouds drop down the dew”
(Proverbs 3:19-20). And when the Spirit fills Bezalel with “all
works”
(Exodus 31:3), that's the same phrase Genesis uses for the six days
of creation: “all
his work”
(Genesis 2:2-3). Bezalel does in miniature what God did in making a
universe. Bezalel is equipped by the Spirit to follow in God's
footsteps and create a model universe that unwinds the Fall. And
that's
why Bezalel and his project get such top billing in Exodus. That's
why Bezalel is given so many virtually unique blessings, why he's
called by name from the start, why he's filled with the Spirit of God
in ways never said of Adam, Noah, Moses, Aaron, or David.
If
his grandfather Hur did die for opposing a false way of making God
near in a golden calf, Bezalel lived to accomplish a true new way of
having God near: by building the tabernacle through which his
presence would be in our midst. I almost wonder if it would be fair
to call Bezalel the Mary of the Old Testament! Mary was
“overshadowed”
by the “power
of the Most High”
(Luke 1:35), and through her came the human body of Jesus – and in
this flesh, John tells us, the Word “pitched
his tabernacle among us”
(John 1:14). Mary was overshadowed by God to conceive through the
Spirit and produce a tabernacle of skin and flesh and blood for the
Word of the LORD.
Bezalel's name means “In the Shadow of God,” and that same
Spirit filled him to produce a tabernacle of skin and fabric and wood
for the Glory of the LORD.
Bezalel is filled with the Spirit of God, and that means a special
blessing, a special gifting. But the reason why
is because he has tasks to perform that add up to a mind-blowing
mission. Bezalel is greatly blessed for a great purpose.
Bezalel
was almost alone in the Old Testament in being “filled
with the Spirit.”
But the New Testament is a different story. John the Baptist and
both his parents stand out, of course (Luke 1:15, 41, 67). But then
a big thing happens. On the anniversary of the day Moses came down
from the mountain with the Law, the followers of Jesus are gathered
in one place (Acts 2:1), and “suddenly
there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it
filled the entire house”
(Acts 2:2). And the house isn't all that gets filled. On Pentecost,
“they were all
filled with the Holy Spirit”
(Acts 2:4). Later on, again and again, we hear that the early
believers were “all
filled with the Holy Spirit”
(Acts 4:31), that Peter was “filled
with the Holy Spirit”
(Acts 4:8), that Paul was “filled
with the Holy Spirit”
(Acts 9:17; 13:9), that the disciples on the whole were “filled
with joy and with the Holy Spirit”
(Acts 13:52). After Pentecost, Bezalel wasn't so alone.
Why
were they filled with the Spirit? Because they had a mission to take
up. And in this mission, there were various tasks to be done. And
just as Bezalel and Oholiab had tasks assigned to them, and just as
the various volunteers given wisdom and skill from God had subtasks
assigned to them, so we read of a case where two early Christians
were assigned a special task: “In
the church at Antioch..., the Holy Spirit said, 'Set apart for me
Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.' Then
after fasting and praying, they laid their hands on them and sent
them off”
(Acts 13:1-3). Barnabas and Saul, like Bezalel and Oholiab, were
filled with the Spirit and equipped for tasks that furthered the
broader mission. It's undeniable that Barnabas and Saul were
mightily blessed. But the mighty blessing came with and for a mighty
purpose. That's the pattern of Bezalel.
What
does that mean for us? Where do we fit in all this? What does
Bezalel have to teach us, God's people living in a post-Pentecost
age? Well, look at it this way. If Bezalel was “called
by name”
(Exodus 31:2), the Lord tells us that we are “called
by [his] name”
(Acts 15:17), that there is an “honorable
name by which you were called”
(James 2:7). If Bezalel was chosen from before the days of Adam,
like Jewish tradition suggested, well, Scripture reminds us that God
“chose us in
[Christ] before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy
and blameless before him”
(Ephesians 1:4). If Bezalel had the Spirit, we have the same Spirit:
“God's Spirit
dwells in you”
(1 Corinthians 3:16), and “you
are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit”
(Ephesians 2:22). And if Bezalel was special in being “filled
with the Spirit of God”
(Exodus 31:3), Paul urges us, too, to “be
filled with the Spirit”
(Ephesians 5:18). And if Bezalel was filled with God's world-making
qualities of wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and 'every work,' so
Paul prayed for us to be “filled
with the knowledge
of his will in all spiritual wisdom
and understanding,
so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him,
bearing fruit in every good work”
(Colossians 1:9-10). Whether you're as young as Bezalel or as old as
Hur, the very same special blessing given to Bezalel is available to
each and every one of us, each and every one of you!
Why?
Because you are greatly blessed for a great purpose! God aims for
you to be blessed like Bezalel for just as great a purpose as
Bezalel. That's the wonder of Pentecost! God did not pour his
Spirit on you, God did not put his Spirit in you, God did not invite
you to be fully filled with the Spirit, for just no reason – for us
to just sit around and waste away, for us to complain and whine and
do nothing, for us to fritter away our blessings on our own little
golden calves and on arks to store our own private trinkets. He has
blessed and gifted you for bigger, larger things. We have one clear
mission: to know Christ and make him known, to disciple the nations,
to be the church as a scale-model new creation and a sign of God's
kingdom, and through this to heal the world. For the aim of that
mission, some tasks we share in common; other tasks may differ.
“There are
varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit,”
Paul writes, and “to
each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. …
All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to
each one individually as he wills”
(1 Corinthians 12:4-11). But make no mistake: ever since that
first-century Pentecost, you, like Bezalel, have been greatly blessed
for a great purpose. Don't turn away from it. Today, on Pentecost,
I pray for God to not only fill you with his Spirit, but to rage in
you like a tempest, driving you with a gale-force “mighty
rushing wind”
to your work that suits the purpose of God for this his people on
this very day. Remember Bezalel. Amen.
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