The Grand Illustration

0:00Good morning. If you would open um open to the book of Hebrews. That's where we are. We're in chapter nine this morning. Starting in verse 1 is where we will get to in just a minute. I know I've mentioned this before. Eventually I'm going to get tired of repeating myself, I suppose, but God is such a great storyteller, isn't he? Things like the parables come to mind, where Christ communicates his truth to his people in these interesting and powerful ways. And he does so in a way that he himself says has the true meaning contained within it, and only those whom he opens their eyes and their hearts will be enlightened to see it. And in that way we can see that the whole of the Old Testament is really a parable of sorts, a story, and in this case a true story, that contains within it these greater truths hidden away to be brought to life in the heart and minds of his people. As Brother Dave taught the story of Nicodemus a few Wednesdays back, and I briefly referenced on our Good Friday service, Christ did this exact thing with Nicodemus. When Nicodemus came to Christ seeking answers about who Christ was, one of the things Christ did was reference that story from Moses back in Numbers 21, where this bronze serpent was lifted up to the Israelites in the wilderness, and all who looked upon it were saved from the venomous bite of the serpent. Christ relates that story to Nicodemus to say that he is the one whom is to be lifted up for the salvation of the people. He didn't need to explain everything to Nicodemus that evening, at least it's not recorded for us, because Nicodemus likely knew his Old Testament well enough to connect those dots. He could make the connection to the original serpent and the poison that he inflicted upon humanity, and the hopeless state that we are all in wandering in the wilderness, as Israel was at that point. And through this incredible story in Moses' day, Christ is tapping into that visual aspect of our mind to actually show us who he is. Nicodemus saw him not just as a rabbi or a teacher, but as the one who must be looked upon to save him from the poison of death. Through that story, Nicodemus saw Christ as his only salvation. Not coincidentally, Nicodemus indeed did see the Son of Man lifted up on a cross. And he looked upon him, he believed him, and he was saved. We know that because, as Brother Dave taught on that Wednesday night, Nicodemus was there, just after the crucifixion, Joseph with Joseph of Arimathea. He laid our Lord down in his temporary grave. There are many other examples I could give to illustrate this point, right? Philip, Ethiopian eunuch, where the suffering servant of Isaiah is revealed to be Christ. Or Christ himself to the men on the road to Emmaus, where he starts with Moses, it says, and he interprets to them all things in Scripture that point to him. The point I want to make there is that all stories in the old, everything in the old, God is writing a grand illustration that all points to and culminates in Christ. Those with eyes to see will find that hidden in everything are these golden threads that lead us to Christ. And our text this morning is no different. If you don't approach it from that standpoint, you will perhaps go away from the text this morning thinking, what in the world is all this business about the tabernacle and the priests and the bread of the presence and the incense? It's all part of this grand illustration. The story whose subject is Christ, and whose end is the salvation for all who look upon the substance of these illustrations. So, let's stand with me. And let's read. Above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat. Of these things we cannot now speak in detail. These preparations having thus been made, the priests go regularly into the first section, performing their ritual duties. But into the second only the high priest goes, and he but once a year, and not without taking blood, which he offers for himself and for the unintentional sins of the people. By this the Holy Spirit indicates that the way into the holy places is not yet opened as long as the first section is still standing, which is symbolic for the present age. According to this arrangement, gifts and sacrifices are offered that cannot perfect the conscience of the worshiper, but only deal with food and drink and various washings, regulations for the body until the time of Reformation. This is the word of the Lord. Lord, we thank you for your word. Please now speak for Christ's sake. It is in his name that I pray. Amen. As we begin then this morning, I want to skip down to the second half of verse 5, where we read these words. Of these things, we cannot now speak in detail. We should first establish, as I have hinted, perhaps not even, perhaps more than a hint in the introduction, that the details about the tabernacle, right? The bread, the lampstand, the incense, the golden altars, and the urn, these are not the main point. And I know that may seem obvious, but he tells us that. The author of Hebrews tells us that, I think, to remind us not to get distracted in the details of the first covenant. We can and we should look at these things and see the substance they are imaging, but to trifle with all the details of those elements, or to set up a menorah in your house, or to try to burn incense in this same way, or to always have 12 fresh loaves ready to eat, not the details, these are not the details which we focus on. Except maybe the bread. If you want to have 12 loaves ready at all times, that's probably a good idea. So that being said, though, I will point out a few things with regard to the images that those create for us. In the lampstand, this lampstand that was in the outer court, this lampstand was refreshed with oil daily so that the light never burned out. And in that we find the image of Christ who is the light of the world. Of course, Christ Himself says in John 8 that he is the light of the world. But we see this reality given to us fully and finally in Revelation. Revelation 21, 22 to 23. And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God, the Almighty, and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the lamb. So the lampstand images to us the lamb and lamp of God, the light of the world, whose light will never dim, never go out. We also see things like the bread, twelve loaves for the twelve tribes, that is the fullness of Israel, right? God's people. And in that we see fellowship with God. The provision of God for us. Namely pointing to the bread of life. Not coincidentally, I don't think. After Jesus feeds the five thousand. Anybody know how many baskets of leftover bread were gathered? It's twelve. Twelve baskets of bread left over. And then a little later, Jesus says this, John 6, 20, sorry, and 32. Truly, truly I say to you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but my father gives you true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. They said to him, Sir, give us this bread always. And Jesus said to them, I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me shall not hunger. Whoever believes in me shall never thirst. Also the incense, which is the image of the prayers, of the saints continuously being lifted up to heaven, also finds its fulfillment in Christ, who even now in the presence of the Father is sustaining us through his constant intercession on our behalf. The incense of Christ's intercessory prayer for us does not burn out. Again, we need to be careful not to get caught up in those sacramental details, but only insofar as they point us to the fulfillment of those things in the person of Christ. So we do need to, though, get to what I will say is the tension that is created or described in this text that we read this morning. And we'll get to that tension as we look into how this illustration points to Christ. And the tension then that is shown to us through this section and through specifically the sections of the temple is that though God calls his people to fellowship with him, his holiness keeps us away from him. The tabernacle thus expressed the union of two apparently conflicting truths. God called men to come and worship and serve him, and yet he might not come too near. The veil kept him at a distance. Love calls the sinner near, righteousness keeps him back. The Holy One bids Israel build him a house in which he will dwell, but then forbids them from entering his presence there. The tension, then, and the separation that the old system of the tabernacle images for us is the necessary tension for our understanding of both the nature of God and our status before him. When we gloss over that tension, when we paper over that illustration, we miss the fundamental aspect of the gospel. And that is this. God calls you to him. But because he is holy, his presence is unattainable for you. That is extremely important illustration for the gospel, isn't it? If you had access to God without Christ, if you could enter into the presence of God without Christ, if you think, like many others do, that heaven is available through many various paths, then why did Christ have to suffer and die? If there was some other way that a sinner may enter into the holy of holies apart from being cleansed through the blood of a sacrifice, then why was the blood of the Son of God spilt? Do you see the tension then that the tabernacle creates in our minds? We don't have access to God apart from Christ. There is a barrier between us. And that barrier is also a grace because any who tries to enter into the presence of God without the covering of blood will not survive. God is too holy for anything unclean to enter into his presence. And so often we try to break that tension. And we do it by reducing God's holiness, making him more like us, or by attempting to cover or hide our own shame. We sew some fig leaves together, even to meet with him. In hopes that such coverings will cover our guilt, but it doesn't work. Won't work, it can't work. The good news is that the tension is broken. The barrier is brought down. The curtain is torn. Access to the presence of God is available. But it is only available to those who are covered by the blood of the spotless lamb. The covering that God Himself provides. The sacrifice of God's Son, Jesus Christ, for you. This has broken the tension that is so clearly imaged to us in the old covenant tabernacle. Tragically, what do you think happened when the Jewish priests discovered that the veil was torn? I did a little research, and best I can tell from the earliest first century writings, when they found it torn, they sewed it up again. Illustrating what we know to be true and what Hebrews is continually warning us against. They preferred the old to the new. As long as the Levitical priestly system is in operation, the way to the holy place is barred. But again, we aren't really talking about a process itself, are we? Because what is the process showing us? That the righteousness of God requires a penalty for sin. It requires a payment of blood for that sin. The way is barred until sin is atoned for by the shedding of blood. We know that the process itself wasn't the point because could the blood of bulls and goats ever actually take away sin? This is a spoiler, I know. Hebrews 10. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. So the Spirit indicates that as long as the first system, that sacrificial system and those sections, are still standing, our access into the presence of God is impossible. As long as we're depending upon the illustration itself, i.e., sacrifices, we never get to the point of the story. As long as we rely on the blood of bulls and goats, we won't enter into the holiness of the Holy One. The key word in that text, though, that we read in verse 8 is the word yet. The way into the holy places is not yet opened. The shift, then, by way of implication, is that if the first section wasn't outstanding, the way into the holy places would be opened. If only there was a story given to us in the Word, where we see God requiring an impossible sacrifice, but then in his grace provided for himself the required sacrifice. The Lord will himself provide for us a lamb, my son. Christ is that lamb. Christ is that sacrifice that fills in the illustration. Christ is the substance. Christ is the point of the story. Christ tore the veil, and through which the Spirit now indicates that the way to God is opened to us. The holy places are no longer closed off. By the righteousness of Christ, we can be brought to God. 1 Peter 3, 18. For Christ also suffered once for sin, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God. Being put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit. Perhaps even better is that this access to God who is holy is unrestricted. It's unchanging. Because the sacrifice only needed to happen once, and because that sacrifice was eternally sufficient, our access to God and our communion with God is forever secured. Romans 8, verse 14, for all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons in God, sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of adoptions as sons by whom we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit himself bears witness with our Spirit that we are children of God. Just as the Spirit who had previously indicated that the way to God was closed, he now testifies and bears witness that our way to God, on account of Christ's finished work, is forever opened and can never be barred or sewn up again. We do not fall back into fear, but rather we continually enter into his presence as adopted sons and daughters of the holy God. Continuing then in verse nine and following from our text, it says, which is, leaning that first section, symbolic for the present age, and he continues, according to this arrangement, gifts and sacrifices are offered that cannot perfect the conscience of the worshiper, but only deal with food and drink and various washings and regulations for the body imposed until the time of the Reformation. The final point I'll make this morning is kind of a two-part point. The first of those is that this illustration teaches us that the fulfillment of the old, through the work of Christ, there are no longer levels or degrees or sections of God's people. There are not people who confess faith in Christ but have yet to actually be saved because they have yet to achieve this higher level of sanctification. That would be people who are saved but aren't really worthy yet to enter into the holy places. There can also never be someone who has fully arrived at Christianity in this life. And no longer wars against sin. We are all in a continuous struggle against sin in varying degrees. Until we are made perfect by Christ alone in his presence for all eternity. I think this is the point that Paul was making when he says in Philippians when speaking about the struggle to attain the resurrection from the dead. Paul says, not that I have already attained this, or I'm already perfect, but I press on to make it my own because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Because of Christ. And because of him making us his own, he has broken down these dividing lines of hostility that segmented us off from our access to God. And in the clearing of our conscience, he makes obsolete the distinctions and the arrangements that only divided us, but offered us no real freedom from our guilt. And that's the second part of my final point. Our consciences have been fully cleared. Not only are these distinctions absolved, but our consciences are clear. We'll wrap both of those up into another illustration. Many of you know this story. I'm sure I've used it before. Again, I'm repeating myself, I suppose, but Martin Luther, in his younger life, battled mightily with the guilt of sin, with a guilty conscience. Ultimately, he went into the monastery as a way to escape his sin. He wanted, desired to free himself from guilt by entering in the monastery. He was, in a sense, sewing up the torn veil, attempting to hide his guilt on the other side of that veil. I couldn't exactly find the quote, but I read a while back that he is quoted saying something like this I went into the monastery to escape my sin, only to find that that rascal followed me in there. So it was there in the monastery that Luther confronted the real dark night of his soul. The pain of guilt that his sacrifices were supposed to relieve remained. And his conscience was more burdened than ever. His conscience was finally cleared when the curtain and the distinctions were torn down. Your conscience is cleared when you come to know that all of those arrangements of food and drink, of washings and regulations, or anything else that you do to make yourself feel more holy, don't do anything to perfect the conscience. Because those were only intended to be illustrations, revealing to us Christ who himself would be the one to fully and finally clear us of our guilt. It was Christ who gave up his body for us. It was Christ who entered into the Holy of Holies and was sacrificed for us. It was Christ who washed us clear of our guilt. And it is Christ alone who clears our conscience. You can sew up that curtain again. And you can follow again the illustrations instead of the point of the illustration. And in doing so, you will always maintain a cloud of guilt and a burdened conscience. Or you can receive the substance by faith. That is Christ the Lord, and be given freedom from the guilt of your sin. John 8, 36, so if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. Despite Thomas's many doubts and questions, our Lord gave us some great truth through the questions and the doubtings of Thomas. In John chapter 14, it's recorded for us. After Jesus told the disciples where he was going ahead to prepare a place for them, right? Thomas said to him, Lord, we don't know where you're going. How can we know the way? We don't know where you are going. Jesus said to him, I am the way, the truth and the life, and no one comes to the Father except through me. The reality of our status with God is so perfectly illustrated to us in the old covenant system of worship. The love of God calls us to worship Him, to enter into His presence that we may dwell with Him, but His righteousness against our sin prohibited that access. So we are left seeing our separation, filled with a conscience of guilt, and are left saying, Lord, I desire you to be close to you. I desire to enter into your presence, but I can't. I'm unclean. I'm unworthy. I know somewhere deep down that I need to get to you, Lord, but I don't know the way. Here again the words of Christ. I am the way. The truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. So may our God open our hearts again to this truth. And when he does, may the words of Paul to the Corinthians be all the more true for us. The four more isolated and lost sinners that we were. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the Spirit of our God. And from that freedom, then, and from that clear conscience, having entered into his holy presence, may you freely and joyfully serve the Lord of that grand illustration. Amen. Let's pray. Lord, we thank you for illustrating your truth to us and explaining your gospel to us in such vivid ways, Lord. We pray and ask that you would help us to see that this morning. May we know the tension that is created in and through the old covenant, Lord, that we desire you and that you have called us in your love, but we cannot access you, Lord. You're too holy. And then we may we look to Christ, who is the holy one, who fulfilled all of the old, Lord, so that we could be brought into your presence. Lord, may our consciences be cleared this morning by the blood of Christ. May we fully receive the forgiveness that is offered to us through Him. And now may we freely and joyfully serve you. Who has done everything for us. May I ask all these things in the name of Jesus. Amen.