Tent Talk

“Have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.”  Exodus 25:8

Many years ago, a few weeks before Christmas, my husband came home sporting a smug smile.  When asked the reason for his joy, he said he had just purchased my Christmas present.  Not always being the patient sort, I asked what it was, but, of course, he would not tell.  He did, however, give one hint:  “It’s bigger than a microwave and smaller than a microwave.”  I’ve never told him until now, but those few words were enough to figure it out—I was getting a tent.

I can’t truthfully tell you I was delighted.  In fact, I called my sister and bemoaned the fact that while on Christmas morning she would be tearing into beautiful baubles or fun outfits, I would be unwrapping an aluminum a-frame waiting to be shakily assembled and loosely draped with a somewhat-waterproof canvas—and faking excitement while doing so.

But you can guess the rest—the lamented gift turned into a big blessing.  In the years that followed, we had a blast tossing our tent in the truck and heading out on overnight adventures in campgrounds, state parks, forests far and near, and even an evening in the woods across the street.  We look back and laugh at the windstorm in the Keys, the monsoon on the coast, the robber raccoon who ate all the cough drops and Pepto-Bismol, and our often leaky air mattress crowded to the corner by pallets and portable baby beds for three little girls.  Something about the tent brought us closer.  Ordinary distractions were discarded, regular responsibilities were delayed, and we simply focused on fun together.

Maybe that’s why when God decided to dwell with man, He chose to live in a tent.

Please don’t think our two tents were anything alike.  God’s was much bigger than mine and way nicer.  Instead of flimsy canvas, His boasted “ten curtains of finely twisted linen and blue, purple and scarlet yarn, with cherubim woven into them by a skilled worker”(Ex 26:1).  No surplus store tarp protected His top from the elements, but layers of goat’s hair, ram’s skins, and dyed manatee hides did the trick.  Aluminum brackets weren’t nice enough to hold the divine dwelling together—only gold hooks, silver bases, and bronze pegs would do.  

God’s tent would take up more than several modern campsites these days.  The main structure was about 15 feet wide and 45 feet long, and the linen-enclosed courtyard was 150 by 75, but the entire operation was a lot like mine—packable, portable, and serving one purpose—to be together.  When God’s people came to the tabernacle, ordinary distractions were to be discarded, regular responsibilities delayed, and they were to simply focus on being close to Him.    

I know today is different.  I know that the church is just a brick and mortar building no more sacred on its own than the nearby mall.  I know that worship can and should take place in all kinds of places on all kinds of days.  I know that the children of God are now the temple of God and that by His grace we live in His presence instead of having to wait for a special occasion to come near. But, no matter the location or the situation, the truths of the tent are still timely—nothing is too good for God; He deserves our best in every area, even down to the “tent pegs” of our lives; His Presence is what makes something special; and being close to Him is the most beautiful place we could ever be.

Never get to busy to “camp out” with God.  

Sometimes life’s least anticipated surprises turn out to be the best!