Exodus 37-38
Wherever they went the Israelites carried the various articles of the tabernacle with them. They carried the tent and all the furniture and utensils that were used to Worship God with them. They carried the ark of the covenant with them wherever the LORD led them. Pack and unpack. Set up and tear them down again. For years the Israelites did this. And... God was with them. He spoke to Moses in that tent and Moses relayed what the LORD said to the people.
Years ago, I was serving as a missionary to remote areas of Upper Michigan where there was no or very little church presence. I led Bible studies at 3 different sites and led Worship at up to 6 sites any given week. The worship sites included a state park, house church, an historic Lutheran church, an historic Episcopal church, a community center, and a youth correctional facility. The area I covered was about 45 miles north and south and 20 miles east and west. Yes, it was what would be considered in today's world - wilderness. I carted everything needed for worship between sites. Packing and unpacking - setting up and tearing down - the same stuff over and over again. We had one of those big gold crosses for the altar, which was included in the stuff I needed to carry with me from worship site to worship site. On one Ash Wednesday afternoon as I was rushing between Worship sites about 25 miles apart when I panicked thinking that I had left the altar cross at the last site. So driving down the road while reaching in the back seat to see if I could feel it back there someplace, I heard myself say: "I am so sick and tired of having to carry this cross with me all the time." Fortunately, I said it out loud so that the impact of what I had said hit me full on. What about the cross that Jesus bore for me? And... this little cross was a bother to me? If I couldn't carry this little altar cross, what kind of cross was I really willing to carry? As a reminder to myself of my own hard heartedness and of what Jesus was willing to do for me, throughout that Lent I carried that cross on the seat next to me; not just between worship sites, but every day, every where I went. While driving from place to place, that cross would remind me of my weakness, of my sin, and I would talk hold of it, confessing my sins and thanking God for the cross he bore for me. For I know full well the cross I have been called to carry is nothing compared to the one he bore for me. And I cannot even carry that one without the help of God.
May God help each of us to take up our cross to follow him through whatever wilderness he would lead us.
Wherever they went the Israelites carried the various articles of the tabernacle with them. They carried the tent and all the furniture and utensils that were used to Worship God with them. They carried the ark of the covenant with them wherever the LORD led them. Pack and unpack. Set up and tear them down again. For years the Israelites did this. And... God was with them. He spoke to Moses in that tent and Moses relayed what the LORD said to the people.
Years ago, I was serving as a missionary to remote areas of Upper Michigan where there was no or very little church presence. I led Bible studies at 3 different sites and led Worship at up to 6 sites any given week. The worship sites included a state park, house church, an historic Lutheran church, an historic Episcopal church, a community center, and a youth correctional facility. The area I covered was about 45 miles north and south and 20 miles east and west. Yes, it was what would be considered in today's world - wilderness. I carted everything needed for worship between sites. Packing and unpacking - setting up and tearing down - the same stuff over and over again. We had one of those big gold crosses for the altar, which was included in the stuff I needed to carry with me from worship site to worship site. On one Ash Wednesday afternoon as I was rushing between Worship sites about 25 miles apart when I panicked thinking that I had left the altar cross at the last site. So driving down the road while reaching in the back seat to see if I could feel it back there someplace, I heard myself say: "I am so sick and tired of having to carry this cross with me all the time." Fortunately, I said it out loud so that the impact of what I had said hit me full on. What about the cross that Jesus bore for me? And... this little cross was a bother to me? If I couldn't carry this little altar cross, what kind of cross was I really willing to carry? As a reminder to myself of my own hard heartedness and of what Jesus was willing to do for me, throughout that Lent I carried that cross on the seat next to me; not just between worship sites, but every day, every where I went. While driving from place to place, that cross would remind me of my weakness, of my sin, and I would talk hold of it, confessing my sins and thanking God for the cross he bore for me. For I know full well the cross I have been called to carry is nothing compared to the one he bore for me. And I cannot even carry that one without the help of God.
May God help each of us to take up our cross to follow him through whatever wilderness he would lead us.
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