Exodus 26:31-37 And you shall make a veil of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen of cunning work: with cherubim shall it be made:… The Tabernacle in the wilderness was divided into two compartments — the holy place and the holy of holies — by a vail. That vail was stretched upon four pillars of wood overlaid with gold. It consisted of one huge screen of fine-twined linen, reaching from the roof to the floor, and from one side to the other. On the ground-work of linen were spread, in various ornamental patterns, the simple colours known to the ancients — blue, purple, and scarlet. The holy of holies was shut in by this vail from every human eye. No worship was carried on there. When first seen on earth, the cherubims were placed at the gate of the Garden of Eden, to keep the way of the tree of life. The flaming sword with which they were associated, which turned in every direction, was the symbol of God's judgment, the witness of the terrible majesty of God's holiness which had been insulted by man's sin, telling our fallen first parents that so long as the sin continued, the flaming sword would shut up every avenue against their return to their original happy state. The cherubims, on the contrary, were placed there as an image of mercy and hope, to signify that for the creation that had become alienated from God was destined a happy reconciliation. The same great truth was signified by the golden cherubims that covered the mercy-seat with their wings, and between which God met and communed with the high priest. Now, what I want to draw particular attention to is the fact that, secluded as was the holy of holies of the Tabernacle, and guarded by the most solemn prohibitions, its mystery was not left altogether unknown. The most conspicuous feature of the vail — that which at once arrested every eye — was the cherubims embroidered over its whole surface, in such a way that it seemed to have been fashioned of nothing else. Thus on the vail that concealed the awful shrine of Jehovah from mortal eye was revealed one of the most characteristic and significant objects of that shrine. In this way the priests, who were not permitted to enter the holy of holies, could have some conception of what was within it. The cherubims pourtrayed on the vail and on the curtains were no doubt faint and inadequate pictures of the originals on the mercy-seat. They could not have been otherwise. They were a flat representation of objects that stood out in the sacred shrine in the clearest and fullest relief. They were an embroidery in perishing materials, at comparatively slight cost of labour, of a work of the highest art, beaten out in the purest gold, with the most unwearied industry and the most consummate skill. But with all these necessary imperfections, the needlework of the vail and of the curtains gave a fair idea of the cherubims which stood in the most holy place, in their invisible and unapproachable glory. The Jewish priests and worshippers were not left in complete ignorance. There were witnesses to picture to them that which they could not see. They had shadows of the realities behind the vail. Their faith had elements of sight to support it. I wish to make use of this most interesting fact as a graphic illustration of the great truth, which is true throughout the universe, that things concealed from us have their shadows manifested in the things we see. The universe is a great tabernacle divided by a vail and curtains into an outer and inner compartment, as it were. From the inner we are shut out, and we cannot see with our bodily eyes the things that are contained in it. And yet we have representations of these hidden mysteries before our eyes every day, which give us a more or less satisfactory idea of them. Here we see in part, and prophecy in part. The horizon, for instance, is a vail that comes down to conceal from us what is beyond. Many of us will never be able to visit foreign countries, and ascertain with our own eyes what the nature of these countries and the mode of life in them may be; and yet, within the horizon in which we spend our life we have shadowy intimations of the most distant regions of the earth. Ships come to us with their produce; our houses are full of objects brought from them; books describe them to us; and letters from friends make us partakers of their larger experience. Even the scenery around our homes is not so dissimilar to that of foreign lands as we might suppose. Between us and the lofty summits of a great mountain range there is a vail often woven of cloud and mist. Elevated far above the busy common-place haunts of man, these sublime peaks seem to dwell apart, to retire into a more awful solitude than exists on the surface of the earth. And yet the lofty summit of the mountain sends down into the valley by the streams that channel its flanks waifs of brilliant Alpine flowers, which take root and grow among the common lowland plants: and thus the dweller at the foot of the mountain knows what kind of vegetation abounds in the upper regions as truly as if he had actually scaled the heights. Many who live far inland have a vail of mountain ranges between them and the great ocean. They may never be able to stand on its shore, gaze on its foaming billows, or listen to the beating of its mighty pulse. And yet, up the reaches of the quiet inland river, into the heart of the mountains, into the midst of shady woods, the ocean sends its tidal waters, its fresh invigorating breezes, and its white-winged sea-birds, so that the inland inhabitants may have some idea of the vast world of waters that extends far beyond their horizon. The vail of daylight hides from us the other worlds in space; and the darkness of night which brings out the stars only increases their mystery. But the vail which conceals also reveals. Spectrum analysis has made known to us the chemistry of the sun and stars, the physical constitution of the most distant worlds. This wonderful science shows to us that the substances of the stars are identical with those of our own earth. Not a single new or unknown element has been discovered in the remotest stellar ray subjected to its scrutiny. Upon the very vails that separate us from the inmost and remotest sanctuaries of nature we see impressed the images of the objects which they hide from our view. But it is not only natural things that thus reveal themselves by that which conceals them; the realities of the spiritual world are also manifested to us on the vail of earthly things. We have numberless analogies in nature which make plain to our understandings the mysteries of grace. Our Lord revealed to His disciples and to the multitude what the Kingdom of Heaven was like by showing to them its shadows on the vail of common objects and common processes, in His parables. The Kingdom of Heaven is like everything we see and deal with. The youngest person can see the meaning of the great truths of salvation in some degree and measure by the help of the figure of them which his own experience presents to him. The doctrine of the atonement is in remarkable keeping with the sympathetic nature which God has imparted to children, by which they feel for others, and can therefore understand how one person may carry his loving-kindness to such an extent as to give up his life for his friend. The forgiveness of God has a shadow of it in the sorrow which all truly sensitive minds feel when they have offended one dear to them, and in the joy which the sense of being reconciled and accepted by the one from whom their faults had estranged them imparts. There is thus not a mystery of the holy of holies of Divine truth but may be seen in dim yet true shape, embroidered, as it were, upon the vail of natural objects around us, and of our own common instincts and experiences. But I go on further to show that the realities of the eternal world are manifested to us by the things of time. The vail of death, which no human hand can lift, hides the scenes beyond from our view. The Bible speaks to us of the existence of that happy land, and discloses its glory in forms which far transcend our earthly imagination. It calls our future home a new heaven and a new earth. The ascension of our Lord to heaven, with all the attributes of perfect man, the resurrection of man in a body strictly identical with his present body, prove beyond doubt that the scene of our translation, with all its circumstances, must be accommodated to the nature of man. From the very constitution of our nature, we form our anticipations of the future from our past experiences. The objects and experiences of earth are preparations for those which await us above. On the vail that hides our future home from us, we see pictured the cherubims of glory. Yes; the cherubims of heaven are seen on the vail of earth. Heaven is filled with objects long endeared to us, and with pleasure which we have already enjoyed in part, and learned from the foretaste to long for the full fruition. We have now the earnest of the purchased possession — the first-fruits of the great harvest. Now, what is the practical outcome of thoughts like these? Does it not teach us that we have no excuse for sinful ignorance, seeing that God has brought within the range of our touch and vision in earthly images His perfect heavenly things, and placed us so that we can understand the things that belong to our Spiritual life by the things that belong to our daily life? Do not these glimpses and foreshadowings of unseen and eternal things also inspire us with a deeper interest in them? And more than all, does not the fact of the cherubims upon the vail being the same as those in the shrine show to us that our life is continuous here and hereafter — that it is one history and one development? If you are to behold and enjoy the glorious cherubims of the heavenly world, you must have them represented, as it were, upon the vail of your earthly tabernacle. Your hearts must be turned now to the heavenly harmonies. When certain conditions of light are present, if you look through a window at a particular angle into the street, you see a flame apparently outside, flickering strangely in the air. It is only the reflection of the fire in the room on the window-pane. Is not the heaven you see beyond the window of this life, the projected reflection of your present experience? What you are now determines your future; and the heaven of each man is just what he himself makes it, according as the fire of love and holiness burns more or less brightly on the hearth of his heart. (H. Macmillan, D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: And thou shalt make a vail of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen of cunning work: with cherubims shall it be made: |
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