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Recap Exodus 40:10 — Holiness: When God Claims the Ordinary

By the time we reach Exodus 40, the cinematic drama of plagues and parted seas has faded into the quiet hum of a workshop. The adrenaline of the escape is over; the endurance of the building has begun.

Curtains are stitched. Frames are set. Bronze is polished.

In these moments, it looks less like a miracle and more like a worksite. It’s manual labor and blue-collar obedience. Then, God speaks into the dust of the construction:

“Anoint the altar of burnt offering and all its utensils; consecrate the altar, and it will be most holy.” (Exodus 40:10)

With that one sentence, something shifts. The materials don’t change. The dimensions don’t move. The craftsmanship doesn’t suddenly improve. But the identity does.

Claimed Things Become Holy

When God calls the altar “most holy,” He isn’t offering a compliment on the woodwork. He is staking a claim.

In Scripture, holiness isn't about a glow or a mystique; it’s about belonging. Once that bronze structure is anointed, its "ordinary" future is over. It can’t drift back into general use. It is reserved—not because it is flawless, but because it is chosen.

That is the recurring pattern of God: He does not wait for perfection before He assigns purpose. He assigns the purpose first, and the purpose is what makes the thing holy.

The Place Where Mercy Lands

The altar mattered because of what was destined to happen there. It was designed to be the "mercy station"—the specific coordinate where:

Guilt was named out loud.
Life was exchanged for life.
People who had run out of excuses finally met compassion.

This wasn’t decorative religion. The altar had to be holy because it carried the weight of reconciliation. It was sacred not because it was impressive, but because it was the designated meeting place for brokenness and grace.

Not “Keep Out” — But “Come Near”

We tend to hear the word holy and instinctively step back. We treat it like a warning label or a "High Voltage" sign.

But in Exodus 40, holiness is actually an act of divine hospitality.

God consecrates the altar so that flawed people can approach Him safely. Holiness doesn’t block access; it creates it. It is God saying, “I am making a way for you to come close.” The altar becomes holy so the people don’t have to pretend they are.

The Geography Shifts

In the New Testament, the dwelling place of God moves from fabric and frames to flesh and bone. The language once reserved for bronze and acacia wood is now spoken over you: A holy people. A royal priesthood.

This changes everything about your Monday morning:

Your kitchen table becomes a sacred space.
Your workplace becomes an altar of quiet integrity.
Your hardest conversations become vessels for mercy.

These moments aren't holy because they are dramatic; they are holy because they are offered.

Holiness isn't a withdrawal from the world. It is living in the world as someone who has been claimed. And once you are claimed, you carry a purpose that the "ordinary" can no longer contain.

Reflection Questions

Where in your life have you assumed something is "just ordinary"—your job, your parenting, your neighborhood—when perhaps God is quietly claiming it?

What if holiness isn’t about becoming impressive? What if it’s simply about belonging?

Recap Exodus 39:7 - The Priesthood and the Weight of a People

Exodus 39:7 describes the moment when the craftsmen fastened the onyx stones onto the high priest’s ephod — each stone engraved with the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. It’s a small detail in a long chapter of tabernacle instructions, yet it carries a profound truth: the people of God never stood before Him in their own strength. They were carried — literally — on the shoulders of their mediator.

Whenever God looked upon the high priest, He “saw” the entire nation. Their identity, their failures, their needs, their hopes — all represented in the one man who stood in their place. The high priest bore their names not as decoration but as intercession. He carried them into the presence of God because they could not carry themselves.

This is the heart of priesthood. A mediator stands between two realities:

Toward God: he represents the people — their sins, their burdens, their cries for mercy.
Toward the people: he represents God — His holiness, His truth, His call to live set apart.

And while Israel’s high priest was limited, fragile, and sinful, we now have One who is not. We do not have a High Priest who is untouched by the feeling of our weaknesses. Jesus carries us not on stones but on His very heart, and He brings us before the Father with perfect understanding and perfect righteousness.

But the story doesn’t end there. Because of Christ, you now belong to a royal priesthood. We stand in the world as someone who carries others before God — not in our own strength, but in His.

Every time we pray for our family, our neighbors, our coworkers, or even the stranger we meet in the Walmart aisle, we are doing priestly work. We are lifting their names onto your shoulders and bringing them into the presence of the One who sees, knows, and acts. We are also carrying God’s holiness back toward them — His compassion, His truth, His character — through the way we live and love.

The high priest bore Israel’s names in precious stones. We bear the names of your community in prayer. And Christ, our perfect Mediator, carries us all.

Reflection Question

Whose name has God placed on your shoulders in this season — and how might we carry them before Him with renewed faith and compassion?

Recap Exodus 35:34 - The Kingdom doesn't grow thru solo performances

In Exodus 35, we meet two men, Bezalel and Oholiab. God didn't just give them incredible artistic talent for the Tabernacle; He gave them something much more vital for the Kingdom.

Exodus 35:34 tells us:

"And he has given both him and Oholiab... the ability to teach others."

It’s Not About Being a "Super-Saint"

We often fall into the trap of thinking God only uses "super-duper saints"—those rare individuals with untouchable talents. But in the construction of the Tabernacle, the greatest gift wasn’t the ability to craft gold; it was the willingness to give that skill away.

One year ago, our church was renamed to Disciples Church. This change wasn't just aesthetic; it was a pivot to align with the vision God gave our pastor: Be one / Make one. The "Make One" Mandate I truly applaud this vision because "Making One" requires a level of humility that many people miss. It means realizing that:

Your gift isn't for you: It’s for the person standing next to you.
Hoarding is Hiding: Too many people hold onto their spiritual gifts, afraid that if they teach others, they’ll lose their "special" status.
Your "small" gift is huge to God: You might not think much of your abilities, but God thinks highly of them. He thinks so highly of them, in fact, that He wants them multiplied through the lives of others.

Building the Kingdom

The real "superpower" in the Kingdom of God isn't being the best person in the room—it’s the ability to teach what God has given you. When you pour into someone else, you aren't just performing a task; you are building the Tabernacle of the living God.

The Kingdom grows through mentorship, not solo performances.

The Big Question: If the goal is to Be one / Make one, we have to get personal. Look at your own hands and your own heart: Who are you currently mentoring?

Recap Exodus 29:13: "Hidden Person" vs. The Public Image

In the modern world, "trimming the fat" means removing the unnecessary. But in Exodus 29:13, God commanded the opposite: the fat covering the internal organs wasn't to be discarded—it was to be burned entirely on the altar.

The Best Belongs to Him

In biblical times, fat represented the richest, most choice portion. By claiming the fat, God was setting a standard: He deserves the best, not the leftovers. Too often, we give God our "scraps"—the five minutes before sleep or the energy left after a long work week. Exodus reminds us that our primary strength and "first fruits" belong to Him alone.

The Anatomy of the Heart

God didn't just want any part of the animal; He wanted the fat covering the inner parts. This is a direct call to the inner life. It’s easy to look like a "priest" on the outside, but God is after the parts no one else sees.

This theme resonates through the entire Bible:

Psalm 51:6: "Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts..." * 1 Peter 3:4: God prizes "the hidden person of the heart" over outward appearance.

God isn't looking for a polished performance; He is looking for honesty and integrity in the secret places of our souls.

The Fire of Surrender

Unlike other portions the priests could eat, the fat was completely consumed by fire. This represents total surrender and purification. As members of a "royal priesthood" (1 Peter 2:9), we must realize that service without the surrender of the inner life is unacceptable.

We cannot truly give God our hands if we are unwilling to give Him our hearts. The "fat" on the altar represents our private devotion—the part of us that belongs fully to Him.

Reflection Question: Are you polishing your public image or nurturing your "hidden person" today?

Recap Exodus 25:15 - Handle with Care

In Exodus 25:15, God gives a command that sounds like a minor construction footnote: “The poles are to remain in the rings of this ark; they are not to be removed.” This wasn’t about convenience or being "move-ready"—it was about boundaries.

1. The Danger of the Casual

We see the tragic "why" centuries later with Uzzah (2 Samuel 6:6–7). When the oxen stumbled, Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark. It was a human reflex to "help" God, but the poles were there precisely so human hands would never touch the sacred. Uzzah’s mistake wasn't just a protocol breach; it was a lack of reverence. He treated the presence of God as ordinary cargo that could be managed by human effort.

2. “Touch Not My Anointed”

The principle of “Touch not My anointed” (Psalm 105:15) echoes in the Ark's design. As the throne of God's glory, the Ark was the most sacred object in Israel. The permanent poles were a visual sermon declaring: There are holy things you are not meant to grasp. The poles were God’s way of saying "Touch not" to preserve the distinction between the Creator and the created.

3. Mediation, Not Merit

The deepest lesson here is about Salvation. If we could carry the Ark directly, we might believe we could carry the weight of our own redemption. The poles remind us:

Salvation is not achieved by human hands.
Access to God must be mediated.

Just as the priests used the poles God provided, we approach God through the Mediator He provided: Jesus Christ. We don't "steady" God with our works; we rely on His grace. What looks like a rigid detail is actually a beautiful picture of God making a way for us to be near Him without being destroyed by His holiness.

The Takeaway: Never mistake God's nearness for commonness. When you’re tempted to "fix" things in your own strength, remember the poles. Stay in your lane, trust His mediation, and honor what He has called holy.

Recap Exodus 23:29-30 - Learning to Love the "Little by Little"

We live in a world of "instant." Instant downloads, instant coffee, and instant results. But as we look at the character of God through Scripture, we see a recurring theme: God is more interested in sustainability than speed.

1. The Principle of Preparation (Exodus 23:29-30)

In Exodus, God makes a startling promise to the Israelites. He tells them He is giving them the land, but then He adds a "delay" clause:

"I will not drive them out from before you in one year, lest the land become desolate and the wild beasts multiply against you. Little by little I will drive them out from before you, until you have increased, and you inherit the land."

God understood that if the Israelites received the entire territory overnight, they wouldn't have the population or the infrastructure to maintain it. The environment would have collapsed, and the "blessing" would have become a burden.

The Lesson: God’s ultimate plans are not instantaneous because He understands exactly what is needed in our environment—and in our character—to sustain the goals He has for us.

2. Our Response: Persistent Obedience

If God works "little by little," how should we respond? We are called to be persistent in His commands. The Israelites still had to march. They still had to be ready. They still had to obey. Our job isn't to force the "ultimate goal" into existence today; our job is to be faithful with the "little by little" progress God provides.

3. The New Testament Connection: The Heart of the Delay

This isn't just an Old Testament concept; it’s a reflection of God’s heart for humanity. We see the spiritual fulfillment of this idea in 2 Peter 3:9:

"The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance."

Just as God delayed the conquest of Canaan to ensure the land didn't become a desert, He often "delays" His final promises today out of mercy. What we call "slowness," God calls "longsuffering." He is waiting because there is still a harvest to be gathered. He is waiting because He wants to ensure that when the promise is fulfilled, as many people as possible are ready to inhabit it.

Final Thought

If you feel like you are in a "little by little" season, don't mistake God’s timing for His absence. He isn't being slow; He is being strategic. He is preparing the land for you, and He is preparing you for the land.

Keep marching. Keep obeying. Your "little by little" is leading to a "forever."

Recap Exodus 16: Disobedience has a smell: Lessons from the Manna

In Exodus 16, God provided a miracle every morning: Manna from heaven. But along with the miracle came specific instructions. God wasn't just testing their appetites; He was testing their hearts. When we look at their mistakes, we see a mirror of our own struggles with trust and greed.

1. The Stench of "Holding Back"

In Exodus 16:20, God gave a simple command: gather only what you need for today. But some people tried to hoard it. They wanted a backup plan just in case God didn’t show up tomorrow.

The result? The extra food bred maggots and began to stink.

Disobedience has a smell. When we try to keep what God has told us to release—whether it's a "hoarding" mentality or, as you mentioned, trying to keep back part of a tithe—it doesn't lead to more. Instead, it "rots" our spiritual life. It doesn't work for our betterment; it just introduces a "terrible smell" into our relationship with the Father.

2. The Trap of the "Seventh Day" Hustle

In Exodus 16:27, we see the second act of disobedience. God told the people to rest on the Sabbath and focus on Him. Yet, some still went out to gather.

They couldn't stop the "hustle." This angered the Lord because He knew—even if they didn't—that man was made for rest. When we refuse to rest, we are essentially saying, "God, I don't trust You to provide while I'm still."

3. Disobedience as a Worship-Killer

Both of these moments hindered their worship.

You can't worship with a heart full of greed (the maggots).
You can't worship with a heart that won't rest (the Sabbath-breakers).

God doesn't want an empty offering; He wants an obedient heart. True worship happens when we trust Him enough to follow His instructions, knowing that His boundaries are there for our protection and our peace.

Reflective Questions:

The Manna Test: Is there an area of your life where you are "hoarding" (fearfully holding onto something) instead of trusting God for daily provision?
The Sabbath Test: Are you finding it hard to "stop the gather" and truly rest in Him? How might your busyness be hindering your worship?