There were, then, three coverings over the completed tabernacle to shield it from defilement and injury: First, the curtain of goats' hair which presents its aspect to man—nothing indeed very attractive to sight: a curious contrast to its aspect toward God, which we saw in the gorgeous and radiant beauties of the tapestry now hidden underneath. The goats' hair signifies more than this, however. It was the sign of a prophetic function, and an expression of separation from the world—perhaps also of an exalted and estranged life. Over this went the covering of rams' skins dyed red, which means consecration and leadership consecration being an advance on separation, the one negative, the other positive. “Cease to do evil; learn to do well.” And over all a covering of badger skins, which would protect from harm and evil. The badger is peculiar for its hardiness (the skin is so impervious that the stings of bees make no impression on it); and its caution, cleanliness, and watchfulness are well known. It is the pilgrim aspect.
Inside, the holiest place was to be secluded by the vail, which until the death of our Lord divided it from the part where the table of shewbread and the candlestick stood. “The vail, that is to say, His flesh,” was rent in death, and a way was made open for the worshippers into the immediate presence of the divine Majesty. We are thus told then that the vail is the flesh or human life of Christ; and the symbolism of blue, purple, and scarlet is reproduced here as in the curtains. The colors are varied features of character (and of office, as already indicated). There is a harmony and meaning in the seven colors as truly as in the seven musical sounds, and there is much affinity between the two modes of expression. Complementary colors are as pleasing as concordant notes, and discordant sounds as displeasing as hoes garish and ill-assorted. Red is spoken of by scientific men as the bass in color, as blue (the color of the heavens and of the sun's flames, according to Dr. Marcet, before the earthly atmosphere modifies them) is the treble. Purple is a blending of these other two, and many interesting applications have been made of such facts as these.
At least there is no doubt whatever that these passages before us indicate the analysis and interblending of the heavenly and earthly elements of our Lord's nature, the divine light, dissolved into its different elements, just as when one looks at the sun through a prism. And pray observe that, while everything else in nature becomes repulsive when dissolving into its elements (decomposing), light alone grows the more exquisitely beautiful, the more its component parts are revealed.
The vail was to be hung on four pillars, which doubtless represent the four evangelists whose mission is to set forth and disclose that holy and beautiful life in the Gospels, whilst hiding themselves in Him. These four pillars are probably much larger and stronger than the boards, and occupy in a sense a more honored position; but they neither rise higher nor are founded deeper, and they are just the same in being of the common wood and being based on the silver sockets of redemption. Their hooks are of gold—all that connects them with Christ and enables them to support Him is divine: mere developed human nature will not do The table and candlestick are then placed outside the vail; the candlestick on the south side, the side of grace, with which truth is associated—"grace and truth;” and the table on the north or judicial side for the principle of fellowship is always connected with the exercise of discipline in one form or another.
The doorway (or “hanging”) through which the holy place was entered was supported by five pillars which cannot typify men, for they are not socketed on silver but on brass. Perhaps these express the five gifts as occupied in advancing and supporting Christ as “the door,” the sole means through which intending worshippers can enter into this highly privileged position. These pillars being socketed on brass suggest that the capability to bear judgment unscathed is the foundational element in respect of the exercise of all ministerial gift; for this is what brass signifies, whence it is put on the altar of atonement to sustain the fires that would consume the wood. This hanging has all the same Messianic symbols of blue, purple, scarlet, and fine twined linen as glorify the tapestry of the curtain and the vail, but the cherubim are omitted; the symbols of judgment would be unsuited there, where it is a question of receiving a guest. They might repel. The brass sockets indeed speak of judgment, but a judgment borne; and they are hidden out of sight. The old welcoming word on the Roman door-steps of Salve was more encouraging than the warning one of Cave.
Indeed it is remarkable how the invitations of the gospel are always set in the terms that can make them most attractive, and how everything that could possibly repel is removed out of the way. When the
Philistines said to Jonathan, “Come,” they meant to slay him. When Leonidas said to the Persians, “Come,” he meant to withstand them. When Mahmoud said to the Grecian slave, “Come,” it was in order that the gleaming scimitar might sever his head from his body. But from the mouth of the divine Ambassador the whole mystery of godliness is expressed and characterized by that invitation, “Come,” and the accompanying assurance, “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.”