The Tent of Meeting

Ask anybody about the God of the Old Testament and, believe me, they'll have an opinion. They might have no interest in Christianity or faith, but they'll tell you that he was the meanest and grumpiest person ever. That's putting it softly; I mean, ask Richard Dawkins. Jesus, on the other hand, people tend to like. Even atheists. Jesus, the friend of sinners, the one that was all about relationships, the one that talked to, visited, ate with, asked questions to, loved, and cared for people on such an individual and personal level that it made them feel more valuable than they had in all their lives. But the crazy thing is that there is no such thing as the "God of the Old Testament" or the "God of the New Testament," because they are the same person! Jesus was the human revelation of God; Jesus said that anyone who saw him saw the Father. But even as a Christian, I secretly felt like they were different people. Jesus felt far more intimate, relatable, and compassionate, while his Father only communicated with people as a mass and through certain chosen people. Neither did it make sense to think that maybe somewhere down the line, God decided to change and engage more intimately with his people, when the Bible talks about how God is the same yesterday, today, and always.

One thing that clarified things for me was actually reading the Old Testament. The Story of the Tent of Meeting especially challenged the stereotypes I had had about the "God of the Old Testament." You see, it turned out that having a mediator was actually people's idea. When Moses was leading the Israelites out of Egypt to the promised land, God decided to speak to them in person. But when the people heard God's voice and experienced its vastness and majesty, they were terrified and asked Moses to be the one to carry God's messages to them (Exodus 20:18-19). God conformed to their request, but the cool thing is that even then, God found a way around it. He asked Moses to build a tabernacle from the offerings that were given to God by those "whose heart [prompted] them to give" (Exodus 25:2). “Then have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them," he said (Exodus 25:8). It is so beautiful for me how God wanted to build his home among the people from the offerings of the people. He is so personal, so connected to us humans. Surely, he could fashion a much fancier dwelling place for himself with any material he pleased. But for him, the whole point was for it to be a part of the humans he so loved. 

Exodus 33 talks about how Moses would go to the Tent and meet God "face to face" and God would speak to him "as one speaks to a friend." And it wasn't only Moses who had that privilege, but "anyone inquiring of the Lord." And guess what! People still didn't go to meet him. They were satisfied just watching Moses do it. But then there's Joshua, that young assistant of Moses, who - even after Moses left the Tent - remained there. I guess something about God's presence was so pleasant and alluring to him that he didn't want to leave it. Sometimes I wonder if that's all God really wants from us - to just be in his company and spend time with him; and yet, we spend so much time apart from him, running around doing things we think he'd rather have us do.

Anyways, back to the story. In Exodus 33:17, God tells Moses that he "knows him by name." Isn't that the coolest thing? I also wonder if perhaps the reason why I always assumed that God only knew a few chosen people by name during the Old Testament times was because only their stories were recorded, or rather, the major historic events were recorded through their narrative perspective. Perhaps each and every person in the masses had personal experiences with God and heard his voice speaking directly to them, but we never got to hear their story.

So clearly, God didn't change. God doesn't change. Which simply means that he is still that same God today, longing to meet you face to face and speaking to you as a friend would. "But there's no Tent," you may ask. Well, of course there isn't, dummy - you're his dwelling place. Get it?