Posts by reachchurch
Accountability
Read This Week: Leviticus 5
When anyone becomes aware that they are guilty in any of these matters, they must confess in what way they have sinned. As a penalty for the sin they have committed, they must bring to the Lord a female lamb or goat from the flock as a sin offering; and the priest shall make atonement for their sin. – Leviticus 5:5-6 NIV
Leviticus 5 is about accountability and recognizing our shortcomings as we find a way back to wholeness. The chapter details the sin offering, a sacrifice required for various offenses, unintentionally breaking God’s commands, failing to speak up when you know the truth, or even touching something unclean. What sticks out in this section is how seriously God takes human accountability, even for mistakes we didn’t mean to make, and the greater responsibility that followers of Jesus should also take. This part of our study isn’t about piling on guilt; it’s about fostering a life of integrity. It can be easy to shrug off small missteps, but we are reminded that acknowledging even unintentional wrongs keeps our hearts aligned with truth.
One of the most practical lessons here is the call to confession. Verse 5 says that when anyone becomes aware that they are guilty in any of these matters, they must confess how they have sinned. Confession isn’t just going through the motions; it’s a moment of honesty with God and ourselves. Confession could look like pausing to reflect on moments where we’ve fallen short. Maybe we hurt someone with careless words, missed an opportunity to help, or lost trust by breaking a promise we didn’t keep. Confession clears the air, not because God needs to hear it, but because we need to call it out. What God called the Israelites to do is something we can practice today. We can set aside a quiet moment to seek the Lord, ask Him to bring things to our hearts and minds, the sins and offenses, however small or insignificant, and then offer them up in confession to Him through prayer. It’s a simple practice that echoes the spirit of the sin offering and brings peace and restoration.
What’s beautiful about this chapter is its spiritual accessibility. God didn’t demand the same sacrifice from everyone; He judged the sin offerings with what one could afford. Lambs for the wealthy, birds for the modest, and even flour for those who did not have much. This shows a Father God who meets people where they are, not where they should be. In our lives, this translates to spiritual growth that fits our unique person. We don’t have to be pastors or theologians to take accountability for our lives and grow closer to God. We can start where we are. We have access to God’s throne through Christ and can pray, repent, serve others, or have a moment of gratitude that brings us deeper intimacy with the Lord. God values the heart behind the offering, not its level of piety or size.
Finally, Leviticus 5 certainly points to accountability, but also to grace. The sin offering wasn’t about earning forgiveness but about receiving it. The sacrifices provided a way for people to move forward, cleansed and restored. For us as Christians, this foreshadows Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice and is an encouraging reminder that God desires to restore, not condemn. When we mess up, we don’t have to hide. We can bring it to God. He sees us, cares, loves us, and always responds with faithfulness and grace. This chapter isn’t just another outline of ancient spiritual law; it’s a blueprint for living with honesty, humility, and hope. May the Holy Spirit help us take one step toward accountability. Recognize a fault, make it right where possible, and trust that grace is already waiting.
Intent
Read This Week: Leviticus 4
If the whole Israelite community sins unintentionally and does what is forbidden in any of the Lord’s commands, even though the community is unaware of the matter, when they realize their guilt and the sin they committed becomes known, the assembly must bring a young bull as a sin offering and present it before the tent of meeting. The elders of the community are to lay their hands on the bull’s head before the Lord, and the bull shall be slaughtered before the Lord. – Leviticus 4:13-15 NIV
The fourth chapter of Leviticus brings us to a reflective and challenging place this week. It details and outlines the various practices for the sin offering, a sacrifice designed to address unintentional sins committed by individuals, leaders, or the community. This section’s detailed prescriptions of worship, like the specific animals, precise actions, and the sprinkling of blood, might feel distant, or rooted in an ancient priestly system far removed from modern life. But beneath the surface lies a timeless truth: human imperfection is universal, and reconciliation with God requires acknowledgment, intentionality, and grace.
Leviticus 4 categorizes sins by the priests, the whole community, rulers, or ordinary individuals, demonstrating that no one is exempt from moral failure, regardless of status or role. This commonality of original sin resonates today, reminding us that mistakes, whether born of ignorance or oversight, carry consequences that ripple beyond the individual. The sin offering’s emphasis on unintentional sins is particularly striking (v. 13, 22). It underscores a sobering reality: sin or harm can occur even without particular forethought of doing wrong. Here, the Scriptures prompt us to reflect on our blind spots, or those moments and instances when we inadvertently hurt others or stray from our values underwritten by biblical direction.
The sacrifice required the offender to bring something, often costly, to the altar, symbolizing the weight of sin and the commitment to make it right through repentance and amends. Practically, this invites us to consider how we address our own missteps. Do we dismiss unintentional wrongs as inconsequential, or do we take responsibility, seeking to repair the damage? The offering wasn’t a mere transaction but a public acknowledgment of fault and a humbling step toward restoration. In our world, this is like being broken with the help of the Holy Spirit, being contrite, offering a sincere apology, making restitution, or changing our behaviors to prevent these things from happening again.
Another layer of this passage is the focus on atonement through blood, a concept that carries profound symbolic weight. Blood, representing life, was used to purify and reconcile, pointing to the seriousness of sin as a breach in the human relationship to God. For the Israelites, the priest’s role in facilitating this process highlighted the need for a bridge between human imperfection and God’s holiness. While we may not engage in animal sacrifices, seeking mediation endures because Christ has become our Mediator through His death, burial, and resurrection (1 Tim. 2:5). Whether through the Bible, prayer, community support, or personal reflection, we seek ways to bridge the gap between our flaws and our aspirations. Atonement for sin isn’t passive. Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross to atone for our sins wasn’t by chance; it was intentional through the will of God. Similarly, repentance demands action, vulnerability, and a willingness to confront our shortcomings head-on with the Lord’s help.
The chapter also reveals God’s character as both just and merciful. The provision of the sin offering reflects the Father’s desire for relationship over condemnation. God could have demanded perfection, but instead offered a path to restoration, tailored to the offender’s means (a bull for a priest, a goat for an individual). This adaptability speaks to His compassion and meeting us where we are. In practical terms, it challenges us to extend similar grace to others. When someone wrongs us unintentionally or intentionally, do we demand retribution or offer a path to reconciliation with them? The Scriptures call us to emulate God’s balance of justice and mercy, fostering relationships prioritizing healing over punishment. This approach is our greater responsibility as believers to act and respond differently than unbelievers in such matters.
We are learning that Leviticus is less about rituals and more about God’s desire for our heart’s posture. It invites us to focus on Jesus, self-awareness, humility, and a commitment to spiritual growth. In a world quick to deflect blame or minimize harm, this chapter offers a countercultural model to own our mistakes, seek reconciliation, and trust in the possibility of renewal, no matter the intent. By embracing these principles, we can move toward a life marked by accountability, grace, and a more profound connection with both God and one another.
Seeking Peace
Read This Week: Leviticus 3
From the fellowship offering you are to bring a food offering to the Lord: its fat, the entire fat tail cut off close to the backbone, the internal organs and all the fat that is connected to them, both kidneys with the fat on them near the loins, and the long lobe of the liver, which you will remove with the kidneys. The priest shall burn them on the altar as a food offering presented to the Lord. – Leviticus 3:9-11 NIV
At this point in our study of Greater Responsibility, we arrive at Leviticus 3, which introduces the peace offering, a voluntary act of worship in ancient Israelite practice that holds profound spiritual and communal significance. It also has meaning and is an example for us in modern times. There is probably no one among us who would disagree with the premise that we all need more direction and exhortation on seeking and achieving peace in our hearts with Father God and pursuing that same peace with others in our lives.
Peace is often elusive in our times, and unlike sin or burnt offerings, which focus on atonement or total dedication to the Lord, the peace offering emphasizes fellowship, gratitude, and shared celebration vertically with Christ and horizontally with the family of God.
This chapter outlines the specific procedures for presenting an unblemished animal, whether from the herd or flock, highlighting the importance of intentionality in worship. The offerer lays hands on the animal, symbolizing personal identification with the sacrifice, and specific portions, like the fat and kidneys, are burned as an offering to God. At the same time, the rest is shared among the priests and the offerer’s community. This community meal highlights the peace offering’s role as a bridge between God and human beings, which fosters unity and thanksgiving.
When we feel connected to God and the people in our lives, it elicits a sense of gratitude and thankfulness that expresses itself in deeply spiritual and healthy ways. Furthermore, the repeated emphasis on offering without blemish reflects a call to bring one’s best to God. This principle resonates beyond the sacrificial system and speaks to the heart and motivation of a faithful person.
This section may seem routine for modern believers, with its detailed rituals rooted in a specific cultural and religious context. Yet, its core themes of gratitude, intentional worship, and community keep the content of this chapter profoundly relevant. The peace offering invites reflection on how we express thankfulness in our lives. It challenges us to be intentional in setting aside time to seek God and acknowledge our blessings, whether through prayer, acts of service, or shared moments with others.
The community aspect of the offering also encourages us to consider how our faith builds and fosters connection. In our world, which is often marked by division, the peace offering’s model of shared celebration and worship points to the power of collective gratitude to heal and unite. Furthermore, the requirement of an unblemished offering prompts us to examine the quality of our own sacrifices. The time, resources, or energy we dedicate to our spiritual lives are vital to the depth and health of our walks with God. Are we offering our best with the right heart attitude, or merely what’s convenient?
Practically, Leviticus 3 can inspire simple yet meaningful practices in our lives. It can push us to a greater responsibility of expressing gratitude and promoting that in our gatherings, where the people of God, friends, or family spend time together and reflect on their blessings, mirroring the peace offering’s Spirit-led communal life. Alternatively, we can dedicate a specific time each week to journal or pray about what we’re thankful for, ensuring our gratitude is genuine and lasting rather than fleeting. As we seek peace and deepen our faith, we must evaluate our heart’s intent and how we allocate our resources.
Our time, money, gifts, and talents should be an outward result of our desire to offer the Lord our best to bring glory to Him. This approach by the Israelites is the modern template of what the peace offering gives us. By embracing its principles, we can cultivate gratitude, purpose, and community, transforming our everyday moments into a life seeking peace.
Active Faith
Read This Week: Leviticus 2
When anyone brings a grain offering to the Lord, their offering is to be of the finest flour. They are to pour olive oil on it, put incense on it, and take it to Aaron’s sons, the priests. The priest shall take a handful of the flour and oil, together with all the incense, and burn this as a memorial portion on the altar, a food offering, an aroma pleasing to the Lord. – Leviticus 2:1-2 NIV
Leviticus 2 tells us about the grain offering, a seemingly simple ritual that carries profound spiritual and practical weight. At its core, this chapter describes a voluntary act of worship where an Israelite presents a portion of flour, oil, and frankincense to God, often baked or cooked, with specific instructions: no leaven, no honey, but always salt. The priest burns a portion on the altar as a pleasing aroma to the Lord while the rest sustains the priests.
On the surface, it seems like another manual for ancient worship, but dig deeper, and it’s a blueprint for a life of intentional gratitude, purity, and trust in God’s provision. This offering wasn’t about grand gestures; it was accessible, practical, and deeply personal, reflecting the giver’s daily dependence on Father God’s gifts. It contained grain from the earth, oil for nourishment, and salt for preservation. As we read, this passage invites us to consider what we offer the Lord and how we approach Him with authenticity.
The absence of leaven and honey is something to pay attention to. Leaven, often symbolizing corruption or sin in Scripture, and honey, prone to fermentation, suggest a call to purity in worship. God desires offerings and, by extension, our lives, untainted by moral compromise or fleeting sweetness. Yet salt, a preservative and flavor enhancer, is mandatory, pointing to endurance and covenant faithfulness. Practically, this speaks to consistency in our spiritual lives. We’re not called to flashy, momentary displays of devotion but to steady, reliable commitment, seasoned with integrity. The grain offering wasn’t the showiest sacrifice. There was no blood, no drama, but it was deeply relational, a way to say that we trust God with our provision. Today, this might look like activating and dedicating our time, talents, or resources to the Lord, not out of obligation but from a heart that recognizes every good thing and perfect thing comes from Him.
The offering’s accessibility is another important takeaway. Unlike animal sacrifices, which required wealth or livestock, anyone could bring a grain offering. A handful of flour and a drizzle of oil are simple ingredients from daily life but became holy when given to God. This worship reminds us that God values the heart behind the gift, not its size or price. In practice, this could mean offering your skills, however modest, to serve others, or giving time to prayer when finances are tight. It’s a reminder that spiritual devotion doesn’t require perfection or abundance, just willingness. We also see that this chapter reveals God’s care for His priests, as the leftover portion sustained them. This balance of worship and provision shows a Father who doesn’t just demand but provides, weaving care for His people into the act of giving.
The Scriptures challenge us to examine our offerings. What do we bring to God from our daily grind? We can present our lives and our best—our time, energy, devotion, or resources—without expecting applause. This approach is our greater responsibility as followers of Jesus; a grain offering in this section required effort: grinding flour, mixing oil, and baking loaves. Worship, then and now, isn’t passive. It is an active faith. The pleasing aroma symbolizes God’s delight in our sincere efforts, not because He needs them but because they reflect our relationship with Him. Leviticus 2 isn’t just ancient law; it’s a timeless invitation to live gratefully, purely, and generously, trusting that God transforms our ordinary into something sacred. Just because something is small doesn’t mean it isn’t sincere or active. God can reshape our perspective by performing one small, active act of worship at a time.
A New Reality
Read This Week: Luke 24
While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! – Luke 24:4-6a NIV
In Luke 24, on the first day of the week, a few faithful women came to the tomb with spices, expecting to find Jesus’ lifeless body. Instead, they found the stone rolled away, and two angels asked them, Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen! (v. 5-6) The resurrection wasn’t just a happy ending but the beginning of a new reality. Death no longer had the final word. Jesus’ triumph over the grave signals the start of a new life for all who believe. We don’t have to live as though the tomb is still sealed. We don’t have to be held back by fear, regret, or spiritual apathy. Resurrection power means we can walk in freedom under the new covenant of Christ. Whether our tombs are old habits, struggles, wounds, or doubts, Jesus speaks life into us through the eternal power of the resurrection.
One section of the chapter shows us two discouraged disciples walking away from Jerusalem and moving in the wrong direction. They believed Jesus was the Messiah, but now He was dead, so they thought. Then Jesus Himself joined them, unrecognized, and gently walked them through the Scriptures that pointed to His suffering and glory. They finally recognized Him when He broke bread, and He moved their hearts into understanding. Jesus does the same for us; His Holy Spirit meets us in our confusion, disappointment, and disillusionment. He doesn’t shame us but goes with us, opens our eyes, and revives our hope into a new reality. When we walk away from our “Jerusalems,” so to speak, our place of calling, our faith, or our community because things didn’t turn out, Jesus meets us there and walks us back in step with His will.
Then, in the text, Jesus appeared to the larger group of disciples in Jerusalem. They were startled and frightened, assuming they’d seen a ghost. But Jesus invited them to touch His hands and feet and even ate solid food with them. He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures and gave them their mission: proclaiming repentance and forgiveness in His name to all nations. The resurrection became more than a celebration of life; it became a mission to be on. The disciples were eyewitnesses to a miracle and a new reality and mandate. The same Jesus who brings us peace also gives us purpose. Faith is to be under wraps. We must share the good news of forgiveness and hope found in Christ.
Luke closes his Gospel not with a funeral but with a coronation. Jesus led His disciples to Bethany, blessed them, and ascended into heaven. After this, the disciples embraced their new reality as Christ-followers and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. The ascension isn’t Jesus leaving us behind. It’s Him going ahead, preparing the way, and sending His Spirit to guide us into truth (as Luke later expands on in Acts). His enthronement guarantees His ongoing intercession and authority. We often treat life like it’s all on our shoulders. But the risen and ascended Christ is sovereign and reigns from an immutable seat of power. He is not absent; He is actively ruling, praying, and preparing for our full redemption. That truth is our new reality and can anchor us through any season or time.
We are called to live as resurrection people in a world that still exists in the impression and seeming defeat of Good Friday. Because of the resurrection, we can live differently with courage and walk in confidence as we worship, wait, and witness. Let’s not rush past the empty tomb or look too long at the sky. Let’s walk with Jesus, proclaim the good news, and live like people who genuinely believe in our new reality in Christ.
Something Greater
Read This Week: Leviticus 1
The Lord called to Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting. He said, “Speak to the Israelites and say: ‘When anyone among you brings an offering to the Lord, bring as your offering an animal from either the herd or the flock.” ‘If the offering is a burnt offering from the herd, you are to offer a male without defect. You must present it at the the tent of meeting so that it will be acceptable to the Lord. – Leviticus 1:1-3 NIV
Leviticus is a continuation of the journey from Exodus to freedom for the children of Israel. At first glance, it might not seem like the first place one would turn for spiritual inspiration. One might read it and think it feels ritualistic or irrelevant to modern life. But when we dig a little deeper into the content of this part of the Scriptures, there’s something timeless worth exploring, something that points us as contemporary believers to our greater responsibility in our covenant relationship with God. This book isn’t just an account of ancient Israelite worship; it’s about human nature, intention, and connection with something bigger, something greater.
Chapter 1 starts with God speaking to Moses from the Tent of Meeting, laying out the rules for burnt offerings. These were voluntary sacrifices, a way for someone to approach God, often to express devotion, gratitude, or a desire for atonement. The chapter specifies what to offer, like cattle, sheep, goats, or birds, depending on what someone can afford. It’s meticulous: the animal had to be without defect, the offerer had to lay hands on it, slaughter it, and the priests would handle the blood and fire. The whole thing gets burned up, a pleasing aroma to God. On the surface, it’s a gritty, instructional part of the text. But there’s something greater going on.
What stands out is the intentionality of the sacrifice. This wasn’t a casual act; God didn’t want them to toss an animal on the fire and call it a day. The Israelites had to choose something valuable, something perfect, and actively participate in giving it up. Laying hands on the animal wasn’t just a formality. It symbolized transferring who you are or need for God and holiness to the offering. The fire consumed it completely. There were no leftovers or taking it back. It was a total commitment. It was a greater responsibility. This contrasts our current world, where we’re used to half-measures or scrolling through life, avoiding commitment and deeper investment. The burnt offering demanded focus, cost, responsibility, and follow-through. It was a physical act that mirrored an inner desire, surrender, trust, and a longing to align with Father God’s heart and purpose.
We, as believers in the 21st century, don’t slaughter livestock in worship anymore. But the principles here aren’t tied only to the people of that time. They’re about how we approach what matters most. So, what’s the equivalent today? What do we “offer” when we want to connect with something greater, whether that’s God, purpose, or values? The animals in Leviticus weren’t secondhand. They were costly and part of someone’s livelihood. Today that might look like giving up time (not just the leftover minutes), paying attention (putting the phone down), or using resources (money, energy, comfort) for something greater. It’s not about the act itself but the willingness to let go of what’s precious for what God has called us to.
The moment wasn’t accidental; it was personal. Whatever we’re offering, we should make it ours. If it’s serving others, we shouldn’t just go through the motions. If it’s worship, it shouldn’t just be from our leftovers. If it’s a goal or purpose, we shouldn’t chase it passively but should own it with passion and dedication. Intention turns routine into a habit and the mundane into meaningful. The fire in Leviticus 1 took everything. When we commit, we shouldn’t hold back a piece for ourselves. Half-heartedness doesn’t cut it, whether it’s forgiving someone, pursuing a dream, living on mission, or trusting a process. Burn it all up and give it to God for something greater as a follower of Jesus. Leave no regrets.
Leviticus 1 isn’t asking us to build an altar in our backyard, but it might encourage us to rethink how we live out our priorities with the help of the Holy Spirit. It isn’t just about rules; it’s about a relationship. The burnt offering was a bridge between a person and God that said, “We are here, and we are serious. We want this connection to a holy Father.” The Lord asks us to show up in the same way, to offer something of ourselves that is greater than the status quo for the glory of Christ, and to trust His process every day.
The Cloud Moves
Read This Week: Exodus 40
In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out—until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the Lord was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the Israelites during all their travels.
– Exodus 40:36-38 NIV
Exodus 40 is not one of the most dramatic chapters in our Journey to Freedom study. There are no plagues, no parting seas, just many instructions about furniture placement and priestly attire. But beneath the surface of this meticulous setup of the Tabernacle lies a blueprint for something timeless and relevant to us even today. It shows us how structure, intentionality, and presence transform the routine of our daily lives into moments in which we can worship and honor God.
By the end of the book, the Israelites have been through a lot. They’ve endured slavery, a dramatic escape, and a rollercoaster of faith and failure in the wilderness. God gave Moses the Tabernacle plans back in chapters 25-31, and after a golden calf detour, the people finally get it together in chapters 35-39 to build it. Chapter 40 represents the conclusion of construction and the setup. Once the assembly instructions are made final and carried out, the presence of God moves in. The children of Israel set up the tent, placed the ark, hung the curtains, arranged the table, lit the lamps, burned the incense, anointed the altar, washed up, and dressed Aaron and his sons. It’s repetitive and detailed, but we soon realize this isn’t just logistics or particulars. It’s about creating a space where a holy God can dwell with His imperfect but loved people.
To reiterate a point from previous chapters, the order in Exodus 40 isn’t just busywork; it’s foundational. The Tabernacle wasn’t thrown together haphazardly; every pole, curtain, and basin had a place and purpose. This reflects a more profound truth to glean from and apply to our Christian walks: chaos doesn’t invite connection, but intentionality does. God didn’t need a tent to exist, but the Israelites needed a tangible way to relate to Him. The structure gave them that. It also challenges us to think about our lives and seek order where chaos may occur. It could be a cluttered lifestyle, a packed schedule, neglected relationships, or an inability to serve. The Bible encourages us to bring order to these things; however small the step, it can make room for something greater. It’s not about perfection; it’s about purpose. It could motivate us to clear the calendar, be intentional with family and friends, or have that conversation we’ve wanted to have. Small acts of order can become spaces to get closer to God and others and be on mission where the Lord is moving.
The pinnacle of the chapter comes in verse 34, then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. After all the work, God’s presence arrives, so strong that Moses can’t even enter. This culmination of all the instructions and work is the payoff. It is the whole point of the blueprints and obedience. Where it gets practical for us is the understanding that diligence and discipline invite presence. God’s people didn’t sit back and wait for Him to appear. They built something, and He filled it. It’s not that we earn God’s attention (or life’s rewards) but that we create room and places for Him to move and work in us. What we are building right now could welcome something bigger.
One last subtle undertone in our journey through Exodus that we see here is that the Tabernacle isn’t permanent. It’s portable and designed for people on the move. The cloud lifts and shifts, signaling when it’s time to go (v. 36-38). This reminder alerts us that even the most sacred setups in life can be temporary. Jobs change, seasons end, kids grow up. The challenge is to invest fully in the moment without clinging to it forever. Practically, this means holding things loosely. We should build the Tabernacle and pour our hearts into it, but we shouldn’t be surprised when the cloud moves. The Scriptures invite us to trust that the God who fills the tent will guide our lives as we move ahead.
Exodus is about transformation. Wood, fabric, and oil aren’t inherently holy until they’re arranged with purpose and met by God’s presence. The same goes for us. Our routines, work, and small faithfulness acts are foundational. They can become something more when we offer them up with intention and the Holy Spirit’s guidance. We should live in freedom and be deliberate to see what Jesus will do. Remember, the cloud moves, and we can be ready if we follow God.
Live Purposefully
Read This Week: Exodus 39
The woven garments worn for ministering in the sanctuary, both the sacred garments for Aaron the priest and the garments for his sons when serving as priests. The Israelites had done all the work just as the Lord had commanded Moses. Moses inspected the work and saw that they had done it just as the Lord had commanded. So Moses blessed them. – Exodus 39:41-43 NIV
We can easily gravitate toward the dramatic stories we’ve read when we think about our study of Exodus and the journey to freedom. But tucked between these high-octane moments are quieter chapters (36-39), rich with meaning, that invite us to slow down, listen, and meditate more on what we’re learning. Exodus 39 is one such section. Like the previous three chapters, it’s not a tale of miracles or battles but a meticulous account of craftsmanship, obedience, and the sacred act of preparing for worship. Yet, within its detailed descriptions of priestly garments and Tabernacle furnishings lies a timeless message for us today.
At first glance, this part might feel repetitive or overly technical given the last several weeks. But this repetition isn’t redundancy—it’s revelation. It shows a people responding to God’s voice with careful, faithful action. One recurring and striking feature noted before is the emphasis on skilled work and excellence for the glory of God, mattering for those called to serve Him. Whether you’re a business person, a parent, a teacher, or a programmer, the way you approach your work reflects your devotion not only to the task but to the Creator. The Israelites didn’t cut corners or rush the job, even though they were in the wilderness with limited resources. They gave their best because it was for God. Like Colossians 3:23 says: Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord. It challenges us as Christians to bring that mindset to our daily tasks. To have the right heart attitude that can transform our impact with the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Perhaps the most impactful phrase in the chapter is repeated several times, as the Lord had commanded Moses (v. 1, 5, 7). The workers didn’t improvise or add their own additions. They followed God’s pattern, trusting that His design was perfect. This obedience wasn’t blind; it was purposeful, rooted in faith, respect, and a desire to honor God’s presence. In our lives, obedience can feel restrictive. We’re wired to innovate, question, and forge our paths. But there’s freedom in trusting God’s instructions, even when they don’t entirely make sense to us. Maybe it’s a call to forgive when we’d rather hold a grudge, to give when we’d rather hold on, or to wait when we’d like to act. Like the Israelites, we’re invited to align our actions with God’s will and the bigger purpose, even one we don’t always see in full.
The chapter ends with a moment of completion in verse 32. Moses inspects everything, sees it’s done according to God’s command, and blesses the people (v. 43). The priestly garments weren’t just fashion statements. They symbolized holiness, intercession, and service. Every stitch and hammer stroke was an act of worship, an invitation for God’s presence. It’s another reminder to prepare room for God in our lives. It might not involve sewing tunics or building altars. Still, it could mean making time for prayer amid a hectic schedule, cultivating gratitude instead of grumbling, or serving others with our talents. Our tabernacle might be our homes, workplaces, relationships, or any space where God’s presence can be seen through our intentionality.
It is important to note that these last few chapters aren’t a call to legalism or perfectionism. They’re an invitation to live purposefully, to see our work and obedience as part of something sacred. It is a call to embrace whatever our craft, vocation, or calling is—writing code, raising kids, teaching a class, and doing it well. The blessing is that God guides and helps us through Scripture, wise counsel, or quiet prompting. We have to trust when God speaks to us, even when it’s counterintuitive to human thinking.
As Moses blessed the people after their work was done, there’s a promise in there for us, too. When we align our efforts with God’s purposes, we don’t just build things; we live purposefully. We develop a deep, passionate connection to God and the mission He has laid out for us. That’s why we don’t just follow the rules when we’re obedient; we follow Jesus. This chapter reminds us that the smallest acts, done in faith, ripple into eternity.
Every Person
Read This Week: Exodus 38
They made the bronze basin and its bronze stand from the mirrors of the women who served at the entrance to the tent of meeting. Next they made the courtyard. The south side was a hundred cubits long and had curtains of finely twisted linen, with twenty posts and twenty bronze bases, and with silver hooks and bands on the posts. – Exodus 38:8-10 NIV
Exodus 38 is another fascinating glimpse into the construction of the Tabernacle that we have studied for the last several weeks. Still, beyond the vast and intricate measurements and materials, it reveals yet another lesson for us in our modern walks. It demonstrates, as only the Bible can, the power of community and the importance of accountability in the stewardship of our gifts, talents, and resources. No single person built the Tabernacle. It was a collective effort, with each Israelite contributing time, skills, and labor. This impact felt and seen through a group of people is not unlike how God’s work operates today. Every person in the Body has a role, and every one of their contributions is essential no matter the size, significance, or scope.
Everyone has something to give. Exodus 38:24-31 records the exact amounts of gold, silver, and bronze used for the Tabernacle, showing that many people gave willingly. Some contributed large quantities of gold, others gave silver or bronze. Some worked with their hands, crafting and assembling the pieces. Others contributed in different ways. Not everyone gave the same thing, but every gift was essential. This reflects a key truth that a community’s strength lies in the varied service and offerings of its people. In the church, workplace, or family, some people lead, others support behind the scenes, and others give financially, but all play a part.
We must recognize that our role – no matter how small -matters in our churches, workplaces, friend groups, and family. We can’t allow the enemy and our own brokenness to cause us to compare ourselves to others. Instead, we should serve out of what God has given us and celebrate the unique ways we are all called to give and be a part of the mission. We should encourage and uplift others in their callings and roles while understanding that our work brings glory to the Lord and is valuable when done for Him.
When we live in unity of our gifts and contributions, we realize that our spiritual purpose brings God’s presence. The Israelites were united in one purpose: building a dwelling place for God. Their unity in giving and working led to something far greater than individual efforts. It led to a sacred space where God’s presence would dwell among them. The same principle applies today. When a community of faith comes together with a shared purpose and a spirit of generosity, God’s presence and blessing follow. Working together with others is meaningful and fulfilling, and Father God is pleased when we seek unity and peace and avoid division and competition. He blesses us in multiple ways when we work together in step with His purposes.
Serving together with God’s heart and being good stewards of our gifts, talents, time, and treasure requires accountability. This chapter’s detailed record of materials shows that nothing was wasted, misused, or unaccounted for. This level of transparency reinforces the critical point that stewardship requires integrity. Whether handling finances, managing people, or leading a project, accountability ensures that resources are used wisely. In today’s world, where trust can be easily broken, honest and responsible stewardship builds credibility and strengthens a community.
God’s people should always practice transparency and honesty in decision-making. When we do that and hold ourselves accountable for how we use our resources, we raise the level of integrity among the family of God and strengthen our trust in Jesus and one another.
Exodus 38 is a powerful reminder to use our gifts and resources to contribute to God’s work. It encourages us to value the places and roles of others in the Body, and it challenges us to steward what we have with honesty and accountability. By embracing these principles, we can build strong, God-honoring communities where everyone’s role is valued, and every resource is used wisely.
Build Something
Read This Week: Exodus 37
Bezalel made the ark of acacia wood—two and a half cubits long, a cubit and a half wide, and a cubit and a half high. He overlaid it with pure gold, both inside and out, and made a gold molding around it. He cast four gold rings for it and fastened them to its four feet. – Exodus 37:1-3 NIV
Exodus 37 details the construction of sacred items for the Tabernacle that we were introduced to in chapter 36. Bezalel, the adept craftsman, is at the center of the work, and his efforts show us more than just a record of furniture-building and artisan skill. It is a testimony of the precision, devotion, and beauty of obedience to God’s commands and following Him according to the design He lays out.
Bezalel, who was chosen by God and filled with His Spirit (Exodus 31:1-5), was not merely constructing objects. He was fulfilling divine instructions with excellence and passion to serve the Lord. Each piece he made was crafted according to the detailed blueprint given to Moses, showing that God values faithfulness in the most minor details. The Ark of the Covenant, the Table of Showbread, the Golden Lampstand, and the Altar of Incense are not just ancient artifacts but sacred symbols of God’s presence and provision.
The Ark, overlaid with pure gold and adorned with cherubim, was the physical representation of God’s earthly throne. The Table of Showbread symbolizes God’s ongoing love and attention to the needs of His people, emphasizing our need for dependence on Him. The Golden Lampstand provided light in the holy place, representing the guidance and illumination of truth and the guidance of God’s presence in our lives. The Altar of Incense signified the prayers of the people rising to heaven, a beautiful reminder of the connection between God and His people that we can experience daily.
Just like the last chapter of our study, we see that excellence is a spiritual thing. Bezalel’s craftsmanship was meticulous, showing that work, when done with diligence and faithfulness, is worship. No matter what we attempt or are called to, we should strive for excellence as a reflection of God’s heart and character.
Every measurement and material used aligned with God’s instructions. This shows that obedience to God’s Word, even in what seems like minor details, leads to something greater than we can foresee in our finite thinking and plans. It is not about personal preference or the ideas we have laid out but about submitting to Father God’s divine wisdom to fulfill a greater purpose. We often want to improvise or take shortcuts, but true fulfillment comes in following Jesus’ design.
Bezalel was filled with the Spirit to accomplish the task ahead. Likewise, when God calls us to something, He always provides the necessary skills, gifting, resources, and pathway to fulfill it. This example should encourage us in times of doubt, knowing that God does not send us into assignments unprepared. He supplies the wisdom, strength, and perseverance needed to accomplish His mission.
The items constructed in Exodus 37 were meant to encourage worship and reverence. We are challenged to consider how we create sacred spaces in our own lives, whether in our homes, workplaces, or churches, to keep our focus on God. It asks: do we cultivate an environment where worship and prayer are priorities, or do distractions take over? Just as the Israelites designated holy objects, we can also establish discipline, practices, and places that draw us closer to God.
As we reflect on God’s word in this Week in the Life, we should consider how we approach our own work and responsibilities. Are we diligent and faithful, knowing that even the smallest tasks can be an act of worship? Are we aligning our actions with God’s instructions, trusting that obedience leads to His success and more significant outcomes?
We should think and pray about how we use our God-given skills and if we steward them wisely and dedicate them to something meaningful instead of wasting them or underutilizing them. Like Bezalel, we all have a role in building something that glorifies God – whether it’s a physical creation, a ministry, a business, or an act of service. May we use our God-given abilities to build something that honors the Lord, demonstrating excellence, obedience, and devotion in all we do.