Tabernacle Mirage
You’re out in the desert—stranded there. You’ve been crawling through the sand, out of your mind with thirst until you lift up your head and see a . . . . well, what I was looking for was “mirage.”
Now if what you saw was a Dippin’ Dots Ice Cream stand—you’re not technically seeing a mirage. That’s a hallucination. And there is a difference.
A hallucination is a vision of something that’s not really there. It’s a trick of the mind. A mirage, on the other hand is a trick of the eye, and how the mind interprets what it sees. A mirage can actually be photographed.
There are a few kinds of mirages—a couple of which might be helpful to think about. First, there is a superior mirage. It’s called “superior” because the image appears above where the object really is. The light is refracted, or bent, in such a way that the island appears above the water and near to your boat—while the actual island is distant and invisible above the horizon.
That’s a superior mirage. With an inferior mirage, the light is refracted in such a way that the sky or clouds are reflected below, and a car that is ahead of you on a hot road appears to be gradually driving into a mysterious lake.
Both of these are optical illusions—the image of something real, but displaced from its actual location. Got it?
In a way, the wilderness tabernacle that we read about in the Old Testament was an inferior mirage.
Note the reference to a “true tabernacle” in Heb. 8:1.
Throughout our study in Hebrews, we’ve consistently seen the author compare one feature of Israel’s history to something better in the readers’ experience. As he goes he’s explaining the relationship between the Old Testament and the New Testament. In every case (you’re well aware of this) it is the first advent of Jesus Christ that has made everything new.
There is both continuity and discontinuity when the Old and the New are compared—and in Hebrews eight and nine we’re right in the thick of it.
There’s a lot of explanation in these chapters—from chapter 8 through the first half of 10. The author switches between describing the regulations of the old covenant and the blessings that we have in Christ Jesus. His intention is to show how God’s new covenant in Jesus has succeeded and surpassed the old covenant delivered to Moses.
Today I’m going to focus on the portions of these chapters that have to do with the old covenant—next week we’ll study the new.
When the Jews left Egypt, they spent many years traveling in the desert. As they moved from place to place, they needed a portable temple—a holy place where God would meet them. This portable temple was called the tabernacle, and those who served there were generations of priests from the tribe of Levi.
Here’s what the Bible says.
The preacher says that Jesus was different than (v.4) “those who offer the gifts according to the Law; 5 who serve a copy and shadow of the heavenly things, just as Moses was warned [by God] when he was about to erect the tabernacle; for, “SEE,” He says, “THAT YOU MAKE all things ACCORDING TO THE PATTERN WHICH WAS SHOWN YOU ON THE MOUNTAIN.”
The quotation comes from Exodus 25:40. Here’s where I get the idea that the wilderness tabernacle was a mirage.
It seems clear from our passage in Hebrews and from the reference in Exodus that Moses received more than written instructions for building the tabernacle. He actually saw something that was a visual representation of what was supposed to be built. We can speculate—was it a table top model or a holo-deck experience?
The point was that since there was something God had conceived—the tabernacle that Moses built was suppose to match it exactly. More than just an earthly copy of some extra-terrestrial holy place, the tabernacle was a reflection of who God is, the problem God has with us, and the way God solves our problem–a mirage!
Now when I say it was a mirage, you understand that its forms were real enough, but had a limited effect.
The tabernacle was full of symbolism:
- It’s location in the middle of the encamped tribes indicated God’s willingness to draw near to His people.
- Barriers showed that there was a problem between God and man which had to be rememdied before there could be any real intimacy
- The articles contained in the ark of the covenant were a reminder that God’s people had repeatedly rebelled against Him.
- The Day of Atonement and the mercy seat were visual testimony that God would make a way for His people to draw near.
This ritual sacrifice on the Day of Atonement was a beautiful picture of God’s plan of forgiveness. But it was never more than a temporary and defective picture—it never actually solved the problem of our separation from God. This is what the author emphasizes in Hebrews 9:8-10. (Gary DeLshmutt, Xenos.org)
So here’s the problem. The tabernacle and its offerings were God’s prescription for the covering of sin—but by their very nature, God showed that they were inadequate. They did not take one step toward actually forgiving sin:
- Repeated over and over again
- No provision for premeditated sins
- Still no access to the holiest place
- Box was still there as witness to sin
So the preacher says: the “sacrifices are offered which cannot make the worshiper perfect in conscience” and that the were useful “until a time of reformation.”
Christ’s sacrifice opened a relationship to God not available in the provisional sacrifices. Heb. 9:11-14
Picture Jesus presenting himself at the holy place where he surrenders his life. But instead of remaining lifeless, he rises and proceeds through the holy place to the holy of holies. There is squeezes blood from his still fresh hands onto the mercy seat and sits down.
In his commentary on Hebrews, Kent Hughes relates a thought-provoking story on the theme of guilt and forgiveness:
“Albert Speer was once interviewed about his last book on ABC’s “Good Morning, America.” Speer was the Hitler confidant whose technological genius was credited with keeping Nazi factories humming throughout World War II. In another era he might have been one of the world’s industrial giants. He was the only one of twenty-four war criminals tried in Nuremburg who admitted his guilt. Speer spent twenty years in Spandau prison.
The interview referred to a passage in one of Speer’s earlier writings: “You have said the guilt can never be forgiven, or shouldn’t be. Do you still feel that way?” The look of pathos o Speer’s face was wrenching as he responded, “I served a sentence of twenty years, and I could say, “I’m a free man, my conscience has been cleared by serving the whole time as punishment.’ But I can’t do that. I still carry the burden of what happened to millions of people during Hitler’s lifetime, and I can’t get rid of it. This new book is part of my atoning, of clearing my conscience.” The interviewer pressed the point. “you really don’t think you’ll be able to clear it totally?” Speer shook his head. “I don’t think it will be possible.”
For thirty-five years Speer had accepted complete responsibility for his crime. His writings were filled with contrition and warnings to others to avoid his moral sin. He desperately sought expiation. All to no avail. (Hughes, Hebrews, p. 230)
In a sense, Speer was functioning in an old covenant ritualistic sense . . . while complete forgiveness was available in Christ.
Don’t make the mistake of trying to atone for your own sins.



