The long and elaborate explanation of the priests' dress is of course full of important spiritual meaning. The Messianic colors and symbols are everywhere interwoven. The golden bells and pomegranates pendant from his robes are considered by some to signify the principles of testimony and fruitfulness. When the fine linen is spoken of, it doubtless indicates personal purity. The Urim and Thummim were the means by which the will of God was made known to the priest. They correspond with the Spirit and word possessed by the priests (i.e., every Christian) of the present dispensation.
From the front of the high priest's gorgeous apparel flamed a splendid coruscation of blended lights, gleaming from the mass of precious stones of which the “breastplate” is made. The names of the tribes of Israel were engraved on them; for, like the twelve stones at the bottom of Jordan, the twelve on the bank thereof, and the twelve which Elijah built into an altar at Carmel, these twelve also represent the people of God. The character, however, of these stones and the position in which they are placed show in a marvelous way in what estimation our Great High Priest holds his unworthy disciples; and consider, I pray you, what unutterable meaning there is in this type. We are accustomed to the thought of being regarded by divine mercy as objects of pity, or by divine favor as objects of benevolence, but we are, perhaps very little accustomed to the thought of our being regarded by divine love as objects of value and beauty, objects of adornment, of radiance and rarity. Ah! that is very different. The apprehension of it would enlarge our knowledge of that love which passes knowledge, and it would give us a higher estimate of the value of every one even to the humblest of those whom He calls “My jewels.” It requires but a comparatively slight exercise of faith to believe that His mercy compassionates us, or that His goodness has bountiful designs for us—as that our names are on His shoulders or our memorial on His brow; but it requires the faith we possess to credit that His love actually values us, that He bears us on His heart, regarding us not merely as pitiful creatures that have been rescued, but as precious gems of intrinsic and inestimable worth. And this is very strange: we can never understand it though we must believe it. Our Great High Priest regards us as valuable and—because His eyes have rested on us—beautiful and worthy of admiration. In another connection we have the same principle. The Bridegroom says to her who bewails that she is black, “Thou art all fair, My love.” And it is at the time when she is conscious of her blackness that she is told so. The German philosopher said, The more that he knew of men the more he liked dogs: probably we all have such a feeling at times. The more we know of one another and ourselves the more marvelous does that love seem which could not only suffer for us, but could set such a value upon us. How to account for it? Who can? Who can explain love and the ways of love? When the mother of the Gracchi said, “These are my jewels,” pointing to her children, did she think them valuable because she had suffered and labored for them? or because it really gave her pleasure to look upon them—or both?
Gems are the most valuable and beautiful things the earth contains. As valuable as the rare metals, they are more beautiful: as beautiful as the flowers, they are more durable. But, after all, what are they, what is their origin? There is a well-known passage in a modern writer where he traces the course of the common mud or slime, composed of clay, sand, and soot. By process of time and the mysterious alchemy of divine power operating everywhere, the clay is gradually developed into a sapphire, the sand into an opal, the soot into a diamond. And this is not mere poetry but common scientific fact. The diamond is indeed “crystallized carbon,” glorified soot. It is the Lord's doing and it is marvelous in our eyes. How have they been thus transformed so that they adorn the king's crown, the queen's coronet, the high priest's breastplate? By the power of the Most High working mysteriously by means of heat and flood, of pressure, of darkness, and light. And when picked up from the dust the work is not yet done: they have to pass through the discipline of cutting and grinding. The lapidary bends over them on the revolving lathe and makes them scream as he touches them here and there. He hurts them a good deal, but he will not harm them. They will shine with a more beauteous luster presently.
What a sense of security this gives! Those who possess gems protect them with the greatest care. The gem may perhaps be in a poor environment, like that rich ruby which the Russian Peter took from his pocket in a piece of crumpled paper, and handed to King William; or unpolished as the Koh-i-noor, before the Iron Duke used to take it for his royal mistress to the lapidary to be cut and ground. But it is too valuable to be uncared for. The duke would sit by, never letting the gem out of his sight till a new facet was cut, and then would carefully wrap it up in a silk handkerchief and take it away till the morrow. Even such a care protects, even such a value is set upon, the people of God. The heavenly Lapidary bends over the crude misshapen stones as they move on the revolving wheel of life, and He touches them with many a sharp instrument and polishes them with their own dust. But He will neither harm them Himself nor let anyone else do so; and He says, “They shall be Mine in that day when I make up My jewels!”