05. The Ark in the Wilderness; or, God's Presence amid Life's Changes

Chapter 5 - The Ark in the Wilderness; or, God’s Presence amid Life’s Changes THE orders given for the prepara­tion of the tabernacle and its appurtenances were obeyed with alacrity and exactitude. The people hastened to bring their free-will offer­ings; the women busied themselves in spinning; Bezaleel and Aholiab, with their coadjutors, put forth wise-hearted and able-handed efforts, until the finished work stood forth the accurate em­bodiment of the heavenly ideals On the open­ing day of the Israelites’ second year of liberty, the glorious tent was pitched, the testimony placed within the ark, and the ark removed to its destined position; "and on the day that the tabernacle was reared up, the cloud covered the tabernacle, namely, the tent of the testi­mony; and at even there was upon the tabernacle as it were the appearance of fire, until the morning: so it was always: the cloud covered it by day, and the appearance of fire by night."

Yet was this habitation but a moveable one, and its continuance at Sinai but transient. The people knew that they were only sojourners, and had been forewarned of the signals which were to announce the renewal of their march. One month and twenty days had elapsed after the setting up of the wondrous fabric, when the summons came for its transference to an­other site. The pillar of cloud, which had been stationary above the hinder end of the tabernacle, was lifted up, and the camp was in immediate motion. Every tribe, every family, was engaged in preparations for removal; while the Levites occupied themselves in arrange­ments for the conveyance of the sacred vessels. Aaron and his sons entered the holiest of all, whence the Divine presence had retired; and they reverently covered the ark, first with" the veil of testimony," then with a wrapper of seal-skin, over which they spread "a cloth wholly of blue." The staves having been pushed forward through the rings in which they stood, all was in readiness for those who were to bear the precious freight. When suf­ficient interval had been afforded, the priests took the two silver trumpets, and blew the note of "alarm," which signaled the starting of the procession. At the first blast, the tribe of Judah moved forward, followed by those of Issachar and Zebulun, who had all been sta­tioned in front of the tabernacle’s entrance, on the eastern side of the encampment. When these warriors, nearly two hundred thousand in number, had defiled in orderly array, the families of Merari and Gershon followed with the six wagons that contained the framework of the sanctuary. The oxen having moved off, a second trumpet blast resounded, on which the tribes of Reuben, Simeon, and Gad ad­vanced in due rotation from the southern side; and after them the Kohathites, bearing the vessels of the sacred" ministry;" the voice of Moses, meanwhile, giving utterance to the prayer, "Rise up, Lord, and let thine enemies be scattered; and let them that hate thee flee before thee!" The westward side of the en­campment was the next to move, Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin joining the pro­cession, which was closed by Dan, Asher, and Naphtali, who had been waiting on the north. Then the spot, which for a time had known them, knew them no more. The outspread tents, the busy throng, the gorgeous shrine, the cloudy canopy, all were gone; and the base of Sinai’s mount was abandoned to its former solitude.

Into the desert the serried ranks pursued their way, guided by the mysterious pillar which at night illumined their darkness, and by day afforded a shadow to screen them from the sun’s oppressive rays. For three days they pursued their way, unknowing whither it might tend, but obedient to the will of Him who had undertaken to be their Guide. Wherever the cloud moved, thither they followed. No weariness might lead them to pitch their tents unbidden; no tempting oases on the right or left might allure them to turn aside from the indicated track. At length "the cloud rested in the wilderness of Paran." From Sinai’s desert they had passed into an­other dreary waste. They might not see aught inviting to the eye, or pleasurable to the fancy; nevertheless, "where the cloud abode, THERE the children of Israel pitched their tents;" for there alone could they have the Divine presence in their midst. "The ark of the cove­nant of the Lord went before them in the three days’ journey, to search out a resting place for them;" and when the resting place had been found, they durst not oppose the sovereignty of the choice, even when they unbelievingly doubted its wisdom. The same method was always observed in their halting which had regulated the outset of their journey. As they had been encamped at first, so they once more arranged themselves, that they might be prepared at a renewed summons for a fresh removal. The three foremost tribes, having reached the divinely selected spot, drove their stakes into the ground, stretched out their awnings, secured their cordage, and the fluttering canvas of "the camp of Judah" was again ranged along the forefront of the temporary settlement. The Merarites and Gershonites unloaded their carts, fastened the silver sockets, set up the boards, made firm the bars, reared the pillars of the court, hung up the curtains, spread abroad the coverings, and had all in readiness for the ap­proach of the ark. In the meanwhile, the three tribes forming "the camp of Reuben" arrived, and fell one behind the other in their allotted quarter. The Kohathites passed along the side of the tabernacle, came round to its entrance, passed through the holy place, and laid their well-veiled burden in its former po­sition, at the inner end of the structure. The voice of Moses was again heard, as it cried, "Return, 0h Lord, unto the many thousands of Israel!" The ark-bearers withdrew. Aaron, Eleazar, and Ithamar, removed the coverings; the veil once more concealed the Holy of Holies; and the presence of the Most High again found a place of earthly residence. The Levites pitched in their assigned locations, as guardians of the tabernacle,---the three dis­tinctive families on the three several sides of it,---while Moses and the priestly household kept watch before its gate. Ephraim, Ma­nasseh, and Benjamin, took their customary station behind the tabernacle; and the standard of "the camp of Dan" led the rearward of the army to their post on the vacant side of the quadrangle.

Such were the forms observed, and such the order followed, in every successive removal. "When the cloud was taken up from the taber­nacle, then after that the children of Israel journeyed: at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed, and at the commandment of the Lord they pitched: as long as the cloud abode upon the tabernacle, they rested in their tents; but when it was taken up, they jour­neyed." Whether in progress or at rest, the sight of Israel’s host must have been an im­posing one. We can scarcely conceive a finer spectacle than the view of those 603,550 warriors, with their wives and children, grouped around their mysterious central tent; or, in company with its yet more mysterious contents, shrouded from their gaze by a purple coverlet, treading their way through the pathless wilds of Arabia Deserta. Enemies were around; and we might almost wonder that human cu­pidity should have suffered treasures so costly to be so easily retained. We might almost wonder that the history of their wanderings was not a history traced in lines of blood,---a martyrology, filled with the names of such as had breathed their last in defending the valu­able ensigns of the Mosaic faith. But we may not forget the higher than human guardianship that controlled the desert march. The cloud that guided them, the ark that accompanied them, were but the tokens of His guidance who knew how to lead them by a safe path. And many a time they may have been led away from green spots and bubbling wells into the terrible wilderness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions, and drought; because the Omniscient eye saw that beside the verdant fields or spark­ling springs were ambushed foes, who would have inflicted a direr wound, wrought a more fearful mischief, and compassed a more grievous deprivation. It was not their multitude of mighty men, not their valor, not their weapons, that availed to defend them from attacks; but it was the overruling hand which led them step by step.

"They trode in peace the Arab sand In martial pomp and show; With banners spread, and swords in hand, None dared to be a foe.

Though wandering o’er the earth’s wide face, None dared molest the sacred race. For o’er the ark still hover’d nigh The mystic guide and shield; A cloud, when day o’erspread the sky,­--- A flame, when night conceaI’d; This pointed out their dnious way, Or told their armies when to stay."

It is not easy to draw out an exact and orderly list of the various encampments; but we read of at least forty stations between Sinai and the banks of Jordan,---in a period, that is, of about eight-and-thirty years. The in­tervals were quite irregular, and the times of starting altogether uncertain. "Whether it was by day or by night that the cloud was taken up, they journeyed; or whether it were two days, or a month, or a year, that the cloud tarried upon the tabernacle, remaining thereon, the children of Israel abode in their tents, and journeyed not," There is something very beautiful in the implicit submissiveness with which they cast themselves on the Divine guidance. Thrice, in the space of but a few verses, it is emphatically reiterated, that "at the commandment of the Lord they rested in their tents, and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed." It is true, that they had with them the escort of Hobab the Midianite, whose company Moses had urged, on the plea, "Leave us not, I pray thee, foras­much as thou knowest how we are to encamp in the wilderness, and thou mayest be to us in­stead of eyes." But it is manifest that they looked not to him for the marking out of their course. His aid would only be needful, as it were, in filling up the outline, in teaching them to avail themselves of every advantage, or to protect themselves against every danger that might inhere in the locality to which their steps were directed. Human advice they did not spurn; but they made it an auxiliary to the counsel given them from on high, and not a substitute for it. To the obedience, however, of which we speak, there was one solitary exception, whose early occurrence and disastrous result may have been of benefit in securing their subse­quent docility. It was at Kadesh, in the Wilderness of Paran, at no great interval after having left Sinai, that they hearkened to the false report of the unbelieving spies, and brought upon themselves the doom of filling up a forty years’ sojourn in the desert. The people acknowledged their sin; and, moreover, they turned from it; for instead of persistence in their dread of entering Canaan, they evinced the utmost readiness to encounter all those difficulties which had so recently appalled them. But they erred in thinking to escape the sentence which had gone forth against them for their want of faith. They fancied that confession and reformation would supply the place of humble penitence.

They would not "accept the punishment of their iniquity." Moses remonstrated, saying, "Wherefore now do ye transgress the commandment of the Lord? but it shall not prosper: go not up; for the Lord is not among you, that ye be not smitten before your enemies; for the Amalekites and the Canaanites are there before you; and ye shall fall by the sword: because ye are turned away from the Lord, therefore the Lord will not be with you." His exhortations were un­heeded. Bent upon their project, "they pre­sumed to go up unto the hilltop." They watched not for the moving of the cloud; they tarried not for the taking down of the tabernacle; they waited not for the signal of com­mand. "The ark of the covenant of the Lord departed not out of the camp;" Moses also remained by its side; and without a leader, either human or divine, Israel set foot in the enemy’s land. The result is not surprising. "Then the Amalekites came down, and the Canaanites which dwelt in that hill, and smote them, and discomfited them, even unto Hor­mah." It was a sharp lesson, but one which proved effectual. They learned their depend­ence on the God of the ark, and thenceforth followed His directions.

We have purposely dwelt at length on these interesting details; and we doubt not that the minds of our readers will already have recurred to the lessons which, by analogy, are here pre­sented to our view. Like the Israelites, we are passing through an unknown land; and if we would have the whole, or even a day’s journey of life to be prosperous, we must make Israel’s prayers our own. At every turn or change we should specially implore the con­tinuance of the Divine favor. When our nest is stirred up, and we are driven away from the home of early delights and long associations, we must cry, "Rise up, Lord, and let thine ene­mies be scattered; if thy presence go not with us, carry us not up hence!" And when we are led into new spheres of duty and new scenes of interest, we must entreat, "Return, 0h Lord, and manifest thyself to us as unto the many thousands of Israel; withdraw not the shining of thy countenance; dwell with us still; abide with us again; go ever where we go, and tarry where we stay!" But if we would sincerely make these prayers our own, we must also make Israel’s obedience ours. We must always watch "the cloud," so as to follow the leadings of Providence, instead of the devices and de­sires of our own frail and erring hearts. This subject has a twofold warning. It checks the restlessness of some, and chides the rootedness of others. In the former class, there is a love of change---a fickle hankering after novelty---a constant dissatisfaction with the present, and aspiration after the future. Such are the rolling stones that gather no moss--the wandering birds, whose forsaken nests testify to their folly and their danger. Very seldom are the rovings of such a man conducive to his peace of mind. Ordinarily they serve but to aggravate his distempered fancies. As one locality after another disap­points, so one after another continues to at­tract him; and, like the vagrant butterfly, he roams far and wide, alighting here and there for a brief moment, idling away his life in dreams of bliss, but never so settling down as to taste real satisfaction, or to work real good.

There is much force in the old saying, "A believer never yet carved for himself but he cut his fingers." It is best for us when we can be content to "abide in the calling" wherein we are found, until there is a clear intimation that our heavenly Father would have us quit it. It has been well remarked, that "thestops as well as the steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord;" and it is as important to tarry at His bidding, as it is to go forth at His leading; as important to move only when He pleases, as it is to go only where He pleases. If the cloud be stationary for a year, or even for years, we must be as willing to stay as if it were abiding only for a day, or a month. We must learn the godly art of resigning ourselves to His leadership, content to be taken by a way that we know not. We have His promise, "I will guide thee with mine eye," and we must look Upward for the commanding sign ere we move from our position. Instead of picking out a by-path for ourselves, we must keep straight along the indicated road; when that turns to the right or to the left, we must turn, but not till then; and when that is hedged up, we must patiently wait for the Lord. We may be weary of our resting place; but this is not a sufficient plea for abandoning it. If we quit it merely through our own willfulness, we risk leaving with it the precincts where we can hold com­munion with God. We cannot ask or expect His presence to go with us, if we move while He would have us to rest. But there are others who would fain rest when God bids them arise and depart. Rooted in their attachment to places and pursuits, they rebel against any exclusion from their favorite haunts, and any interruption of their cherished schemes. The will of God often thwarts this state of feeling. His all-seeing and far-seeing eye detects the peril that would accrue from the indulgence of it. When He beholds any who have been "at ease from their youth," who have not been "emptied from vessel to vessel," and who are therefore become as wine" settled on the lees," He will deem it needful, if they are His children, to bring them through a purifying process, by sending to them "wan­derers that shall cause them to wander, and shall empty their vessels, and shall break their bottles." We need at times to be reminded, that this is not our rest; that "here we have no continuing city;" that "our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding." We are apt to forget these things, unless at times our "purposes are broken off," and the "possessions of our heart" wrested from the affections that grasp them but too eagerly. It is the hand of mercy that then obstructs our path, and makes us turn aside into another line of duty. We may not resist the pressure of that kindly impulse. We may not close our ears to the voice that so plainly says, "This is the way, walk ye in it." We may not linger in the plain when we have been directed to climb the steep hillside. We may not cast a wistful glance upon the mountain­top when we have been ordered into the humble valley. The certainty that we must at some time, and that we may often have to strike our earthly tent, should keep us from so heaping the earth around the stakes of it as to make their dislodgment an effort and a struggle. If the cloud move every month---if it move every other day---still we must be willing to commit our way to God, and know no will but His. Let us habitually remember that the en­joyment of God’s presence should be the one absorbing desire in our hearts. That with­drawn, the paradise to which we cling will be converted into a waste howling wilderness; but that granted, the desert from which we shrink will be invested with the excellency of Carmel and Sharon. Let our choice of a resi­dence and our plans in life, so far as they seem left to our free selection, be regulated by the consideration, Where can we best glorify God? and, Where are we most likely to realize His blessing? Whether making our own determi­nation, or complying with the determination made for us by our friends, let us entreat, that in every changing scene of life we may share in that comprehensive promise, "My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest."