The surest way to get rain is to put up a tent.   Campers know if you have slept in a tent, you have gotten wet in a tent.  Even high dollar tents rarely refuse entry to water.  Sometimes this is a problem of design – a rainfly that does not quite cover the edges, where rivulets inevitably flow.  Or perhaps a failure of routine maintenance such as proper seam sealing.  More commonly, however, getting wet results from a poorly pitched tent.  

Modern tents are imminently designed for ease of use.  With shock-corded poles, lightweight ripstop nylon shells, dome-shaped structures, guide sleeves and clips for the poles, and buckle-in, self-tightening rainflies, these tents can be erected in minutes.  And while ease of use is important, the novice camper soon learns that it is not the most important feature.   When the rains come down and the floods rise up, hastily pitched tents often fail to keep us dry.

Our family has been wet in every kind of tent on every type of campsite imaginable.   We learned long ago that no matter how easy it is to set up, if we are going to stay dry, we need to add significant amendments.  Carefully placed and folded ground tarps, a ginormous tarp to serve as an encompassing second rainfly along with the T-posts and parachute cord required to rig the right shape to drain the water away.  These are the basics. The non-negotiables. And worth every additional pound of portage.

Pitching a tent well involves careful thought.  And lots of layers. Layers for comfort. Layers for protection. And even layers for concealment.  Modern tents come in canary yellow, hunter orange, and sea-foam teal.   But the wise camper wants his tent to blend in to provide concealment for protection and aesthetics.   Pitching a tent is engineering and artistry.   “Pitch in haste and you will repent at leisure.”   A poorly pitched tent makes for a poor camping experience, plain and simple.

In Exodus 26, Moses is shown the design for a well-pitched tent.   The Lord God promised to dwell among his people.   Just as they lived in tents, He would dwell in a magnificent tent.   His tent was designed from a heavenly exemplar to teach the people that their ultimate purpose was to dwell with him in heaven not just on earth.  And his tent was placed in the center of the camp to remind the people that their lives revolved around him.  

And yet, though always visible, most Israelites would never see inside God’s tent.  He hosted no open houses.  Invited no tours. As one theologian commented, the layers of coverings, the veil at the entrance, and the veil concealing the Holy of Holies and the Ark of the Covenant “would visibly say ‘come in’ and then ‘keep out,’ ‘thus far’ and ‘no further.’

The description of the tabernacle leaves one lasting impression: that of the number of coverings and entrance curtains.  Though Israel had this tremendous privilege of the divine presence in their midst, there was to be no doubt that his is the Holy One, and that access to him was no easy matter, even though his palace and temple was right there in the centre of their camp…. The picture is one of limited access.   But now this has all changed.  ‘We have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is his body.’ (Hebrews 10:19-20)

John Mackay, Exodus

God’s tent is a marvel of engineering and artistry.  Portable but protective.  A microcosm of heaven on earth.  A place of God’s presence, provision, and promise.  A place where God bids us draw near yet warns that our approach requires a mediator. A place whose concealed treasures speak of unseen saving faith in an unseen God.   The author of Hebrews puts this together.

But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption. For if the blood of goats and bulls, and the sprinkling of defiled persons with the ashes of a heifer, sanctify for the purification of the flesh, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God.  Therefore, he is the mediator of a new covenant, so that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance.

Hebrews 9:11-15

Join us as we examine Exodus 26:1-37 and consider the design, artistry, purpose and promises found in the Tabernacle.   We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.