Matthew often speaks of Christ as fulfilling the Scriptures (e.g., Matt. 1:22; 2:23; 8:17). When the Scripture referenced is a promise or a prediction, the idea of fulfillment is relatively straightforward (as in Matt. 21:4–5). But what can Matthew mean by saying that Christ fulfills the Scripture when the Old Testament passage in question was a historical notice? Consideration of one passage, Matthew 2:13–18, where this is the case may shed some light on the general meaning.

This pericope contains two episodes, each ending with a fulfillment formula (Matt. 2:15, 18). These two episodes relate how Joseph took the child Jesus to Egypt to escape the wrath of Herod, who wound up destroying all the young children in the environs of Bethlehem. In this brief section, there are allusions to Genesis and Exodus, as well as quotations from Hosea and Jeremiah, which will be considered in turn.

Genesis 46

The patriarch Israel and his sons have been summoned to go into Egypt by Joseph, the betrayed brother who has risen to be ruler of the land. This news came as a shock to his father (Gen. 45:26), who had previously refused to be comforted for Joseph’s non-existence (Gen. 37:35; 42:36). As the journey reached its first stage, Jacob/Israel was confirmed in his purpose by speech with God “in visions of the night” (Gen. 46:2).

God promised to go with them into Egypt, and bring them out again, as well as the note that Joseph would be present at Jacob’s deathbed (Gen. 46:4). It was thus by faith in God’s promised presence and restoration that Jacob left the land of promise to sojourn in the land of Egypt.

These thematic echoes make this a suitable passage for Matthew to allusively incorporate into the fabric of his narrative of the early life of Jesus. The question of presence is important for Matthew’s account of Jesus. He is God with us (1:23), he is present wherever two or three gather in his name (18:20), and he is with his disciples as they pursue his commission until the very end of the age (28:20). Thus the promise of God’s presence in Egypt in the text of Genesis was likely to attract Matthew’s attention. Furthermore, Matthew relates the descent of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus into Egypt with a view to explaining that they came out: that juxtaposition of entrance and exodus is also found in Genesis 46.

Although God addresses the patriarch as “Jacob, Jacob” (Gen. 46:2), the text itself speaks of Israel as journeying, and God speaking to Israel (Gen. 46:1–2). There is a certain ambiguity to the name, because it can refer to Jacob as an individual, or to the whole clan and nation springing from him. This ambiguity creates room in which Matthew can present Jesus as Israel, the one who finally recapitulates and encapsulates what is true of God’s people. Jacob went into Egypt, but only his embalmed corpse came out (Gen. 50:2, 13). Jesus went down into Egypt and returned, because God was with him, as the original promise given to Jacob in Genesis 46 guaranteed. How could it be otherwise when Jesus is the locus of God’s presence with his people (Matt. 1:23)?

Exodus

There are multiple allusions to the events of Exodus in this part of Matthew. There are at least tacit comparisons between Jesus and Moses on the score of being infants threatened with death by tyrannical monarchs (Matt. 2:13 and Exod. 2:3).[i] The fact that other infants die when the one special named infant does not is another point of similarity between the two narratives. There is also an echo of God’s words to Moses in Exodus 4:19 when Joseph is told that “those who sought the child’s life are dead” (Matt. 2:20).[ii]

In the text of Exodus itself, it is clear that the experience of Moses the deliverer and Israel the delivered contain parallels. Both left Egypt in haste (Exod. 2:15; 12:39). Both were in a manner drawn out of water (Exod. 2:9; 14:22). Later revelation points out that ultimately both spent forty years in the wilderness (Acts 7:30; Num. 14:33).

The dialectic of individual and people again allows an ambiguity where Matthew can represent Christ as the new Moses, as well as the new Israel.[iii] For instance, when Christ spends forty days fasting in the wilderness and being put to the test (Matt. 4:1–2) this inevitably reminds the reader both of Moses’ extended fast on Sinai (Exod. 34:28) and of Israel’s long years of trial (Deut. 8:2). This dual presentation is not an inconceivable stretch, because Moses was the representative and mediator of Israel as they were constituted a nation.

It should also be noticed that in both Genesis and Matthew, Egypt is a place of safety and provision, whereas in Exodus it is the place of danger and bondage. Herod’s rule, then, makes Bethlehem into an analogue of Egypt, returning the promised land to the state it was in before God’s promises to Abraham were fulfilled through Joshua. The deliverer is born as promised in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:6), but as far as his safety went, pagan Egypt was a better place than the city of David. It is hard to imagine a more stinging indictment of the national condition at the time of Christ’s birth: the only way it could get worse is if they were to succeed in killing Christ…[iv]

The importance of Exodus as a source of Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus is further confirmed by his explicit quotation of Hosea, since he chooses a passage in which Hosea remembers the events of Exodus.

Hosea 11:1

The prophet Hosea addressed an impassioned appeal to the disobedient kingdom of Israel (i.e., the northern ten tribes which had broken away from allegiance to the house of David). As part of that appeal he reminded them of the great watershed event of Exodus – their deliverance from Egypt.

Thus God speaks of his love for Israel as a child, a love which was exhibited in calling his son out of Egypt. Here Hosea himself is alluding to the terms of God’s word to Moses in Exodus 4:22, as well as to the successful departure from Egypt recorded in the following chapters. The affectionate terms as well as the historic facts bore witness to the depth of God’s love for his people. And yet that people did not respond in kind, but were constantly unfaithful (Hosea 11:2).

When Matthew took up that great word that God called his son out of Egypt, the quotation is from Hosea, but that quotation includes the allusion to Exodus 4:22. Thus the affectionate term for Israel, “my son” was applied to Jesus. He is truly God’s Son, the firstborn. The terms of Exodus and Hosea apply most fully and properly to him. The process of inner-biblical exegesis which led Hosea to reflect on Exodus 4 is continuing, with ever-increasing clarity.

The faithlessness of corporate Israel (or “Ephraim” as Hosea says in 11:2, 8–9) placed an enormous question mark over its status as God’s son. Can it be that this is how the son of God behaves? The answer is no; but the full solution of this dilemma awaited the appearance of God’s ultimate Son, who fulfills all righteousness (Matt. 3:15).

Blomberg argues for seeing in Matthew’s usage of Hosea an instance of “pure typology,” that is to say, “divinely intended ‘coincidence’” discerned in “striking parallels between God’s actions in history.”[v] This is not quite strong enough. The striking parallels are present because God is gradually making clear over time the ultimate referent of all these events. It is not that the Exodus was similar to the life of Jesus because God repeats himself. Rather, the meaning of the Exodus was Jesus. The deliverance of Israel from Egypt was a model meant to point to the greater deliverance of God’s true and natural Son, and of all God’s people in and through him. It is thus not sufficient to say that Exodus or Hosea can be appropriated to explain Christ: rather, Christ was the point all along (see Vos on Christology and Hermeneutics).[vi] As Ulrich Luz put it: “It is true for Matthew and for all of early Christianity that the OT alone makes it possible to proclaim and understand the risen Jesus.”[vii]

This was made clear in the unfolding of revelation not only by successive recapitulations and the individual-corporate dialectic already mentioned, but also by the failures of the people which are so strongly emphasized in the context of Hosea 11:1. The deliverance of the people from Egyptian bondage was not an ultimate deliverance; in no small measure, they carried their bondage with them. That was why Herod could recreate Egypt in Bethlehem.

The types necessarily looked forward. Their good features suggested categories within which God’s great work on behalf of his people and presence with them could be understood. But their very imperfections highlighted their prospective nature. Because of this future orientation, it is not the case that God did again with Jesus what he did before through Moses. Moses was just a preparatory prologue.

Because Christ was not just another in a series of parallels, but the culmination and goal of the whole redemptive-history, fulfillment of prophetic utterance comes to its height in him. Matthew shows this by highlighting that even the surroundings of Christ are fulfilling prophetic words, in this case those of Jeremiah.

Jeremiah 31:15

As Blomberg points out, this verse contains one note of sorrow “that reflects the current grief surrounding the Assyrian and Babylonian exiles” in a chapter that is otherwise full of glorious promises.[viii] The sorrow of mothers bereaved of their children is personified as Rachel weeping for her children. As pointed out above, the language here may draw on Jacob’s grief over Joseph’s loss.

Rachel is mentioned only three times in the Hebrew Bible outside of Genesis. There is reference to the location of her grave in 1 Samuel 10:2; her name is linked with Leah’s as a term of blessing in Ruth 4:11; and there is Jeremiah 31:15. The citation of this text in Matthew 2:18 provides the only New Testament reference to her.

It is thus an interesting question why Jeremiah chose to speak of Rachel weeping for her children. The Genesis narrative reveals her as envious (Gen. 30:1), and as seeing herself in conflict with her sister Leah (Gen. 30:8). Her sorrow over her initial barrenness was perhaps only partially alleviated by Joseph’s birth (cf. Gen. 30:22–24). As she died giving birth to her second son and named him “Son of my sorrow”, she was a sufficiently natural choice as a type of grief (Gen. 35:16-19). It seems likely that the text was suggested to Matthew’s mind because of the association of Rachel’s burying place with Bethlehem (Gen. 35:19; 48:7).

She weeps in Ramah because this was “a stopping-off point for the captives from Judah and Jerusalem on their way to exile in Ramah.”[ix] This last point can be verified by a reference to Jer. 40:1, which shows that Jeremiah was taken with other captives of the Babylonians as far as Ramah before being released. Perhaps the sight of the other captives who were not so fortunate added a very immediate pathos to Jeremiah’s composition of these words.

In the sorrow of bereaved mothers, Matthew sees a point of contact between Jeremiah’s words and the aftermath of Herod’s massacre. It is as though all the sorrows of loss in the long record of Israel’s oppressions were now revealed in the desolation surrounding the unsuccessful attempt on the life of Jesus. Perhaps this fulfillment also suggested some comfort. Jesus would return from his time in Egypt, as Matthew goes on to narrate: just as Jeremiah had prophesied that the children who were not would return (Jer. 30:16).[x] Rachel ultimately need not weep for her non-existent children when Jesus has come in fulfillment of the prophetic word, as the presence of God with us, and as the one who saves his people from their sins.

However that may be, it is clear that all kinds of prophetic words are finding their fulfillment in and around Christ. It is not the occasional messianic prediction only that he fulfills, but the meaning of the prophets taken quite broadly.

Conclusion

The preceding discussion leads to the conclusion that Matthew thinks of the prophetic word as something that required fulfillment, even when that word was not obviously predictive. Neither the quotations nor the allusions found in the section considered have any obviously future connotation in their original contexts, but are historical remarks. Even the quotation from Jeremiah, which does come from a context of promise, refers to the sorrow as a past or present event, not as something to be looked for in the future.

For Matthew, however, these historical notices are not mere statements of fact, nor even (as might have been expected from the Hosea reference) the basis for strong exhortation or rebuke. Rather, they have a referent ultimately beyond the boundaries of the historical events considered in themselves. History can be fulfilled only if it had a meaning, a goal whose character was in some sense sketched out in the events leading up to it.

In other words, Matthew’s typology is not simply a question of repeating patterns, but involves the whole concept of redemptive-history. It is a very clear lesson of the fulfillment formula that God is in control of the events. And in the events of the life of Jesus, the plan of God which was adumbrated in the past experiences of Jacob, Rachel, Moses, Israel, and Jeremiah is coming to its culmination.

This has implications for Matthew’s hermeneutical method. If he is interpreting the Scriptures typologically within a redemptive-historical framework, it is not possible to say that he twists the Scriptures[xi] except by rejecting his presupposition of a genuine advance in the progress of redemption that is focused on the coming of Christ. “The concept of fulfillment is at the heart of biblical theology.”[xii] On Matthew’s presuppositions, then, the genuine twisting of the Scriptures would be by trying to understand them without reference to Jesus Christ. He is the fulfillment of all the prophetic word.

For Further Reading

Apart from the books mentioned in the endnotes—Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament and the collection of essays, The Right Doctrine from the Wrong Text?—readers may find these studies of particular interest.

• R.T. France, Jesus and the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1971)
• Hugh Martin, The Abiding Presence (Fearn, Ross-Shire: Christian Heritage, 2009)
• “Fulfillment in Matthew as Eschatological Reversal” and “The Last Adam: A Theology of the Obedient Life of Jesus in the Gospels”—two interviews with Dr. Brandon Crowe.

[i] Noted by Craig L. Blomberg, “Matthew” in G.K. Beale and D.A. Carson, eds., Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 7.

[ii] Both parallels are mentioned by Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1–7: A Commentary on Matthew 1–7 (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007), 119.

[iii] Cf. the explanation of corporate solidarity in terms of “the interchange between the nation and its representative, with the Messiah being the embodiment of Israel’s hopes and the ultimate recipient of God’s promises to his people” by Richard N. Longenecker, “Who Is the Prophet Talking About? Some Reflections on the New Testament Use of the Old,” pp.375–386 in G.K. Beale, ed., The Right Doctrine from the Wrong Texts?: Essays on the Use of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1994), 377.

[iv] Luz, Matthew, 121 is right in saying that “What we have here, however, is not a merely biographical interest in documenting the various stations of Jesus’ vitafrom the OT but a christological statement made with geographical statements.”

[v] Blomberg, “Matthew,” 8.

[vi] Cf. the comment of Douglas A. Oss, “The Interpretation of the ‘Stone’ Passages by Peter and Paul: A Comparative Study,” (JETS1989), 182: “Primary to the approach of the New Testament is a pronounced Christocentric perspective that resulted in interpretations being conducted along Christological lines in a very consistent manner.”

[vii] Luz, Matthew, 131.

[viii] Blomberg, “Matthew,” 9.

[ix] Gerald L. Keown, Pamela J. Scalise and Thomas G. Smothers, Jeremiah 26–52 (Dallas: Word Books, 1995), 119

[x] So Blomberg, ”Matthew,” 10.

[xi] As does S.V. McCasland, “Matthew Twists the Scriptures,” pp. 146–152 in The Right Doctrine from the Wrong Texts, when he says (147–148): “As only Matthew records the flight to Egypt, there is a strong possibility that the entire episode is an inference from the misunderstood Hosea 11:1.”

[xii] Longenecker, “Prophet,” 376.

We continue our expedition through the biblical drama of the triune God’s pursuit of union and communion with his people in joy-full fellowship (Ps. 16:11). The promise, “I will be your God and you will be my people,” is the refrain of his heart that reverberates at every turn in the story to the glory of his name and the good of his people. We’ve already considered the blueprint of God’s plan for consummate fellowship in the garden and the way in which he continued his pursuit of it in the face of sin, death and rebellion during the era of the patriarchs. However, the temporary meetings between God and Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ached for something more as they were only faint experiences that left so much more to be desired. What Israel needed was for God to take up permanent residency in their midst. This he would do in the tabernacle.

God’s Presence in the Cloud

During the exodus from Egypt we read of these two peculiar pillars, one of cloud and the other of fire, which led the Israelites during the day and at night, respectively (Exod. 13:21-22). Later we read of Israel seeing the glory of the Lord appearing in the cloud (Exod. 16:10) and the Lord informing Moses that he is coming to him in a thick cloud (Exod. 19:9), which descends upon Mount Sinai (Exod. 19:16; 24:15). Thus, the glory of the Lord dwelt on Mount Sinai in the cloud (Exod. 24:15-16) and Moses was summoned to enter the cloud, where he met with the Lord (Exod. 24:18). The point here is that God dwelt in the covering of the cloud—his presence was there. And if God’s presence is in the cloud, then Mount Sinai, upon which the cloud descended, can be considered a mountain-temple.[1]

The Purpose of the Tabernacle

Beginning in Exodus 25 we are informed of the Lord’s speech to Moses inside the mountain-temple, which instructs him to receive freewill contributions from the people to build a sanctuary according to the specifications that he will lay out (Exod. 25:10-30:38). Why? God gives us his reason: “And let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst” (Exod. 25:8). This is a remarkable statement in light of previous redemptive-history. Adam was banished from Eden where he dwelt with God and the patriarchs only had temporary visits from him, but now God is going to take up residence in the center of Israel’s camp, he will dwell among his people in the tabernacle! This is a major step toward the fulfillment of Psalm 16:11 and the consummative picture of Revelation 21-22.

Patterned After the Heavenly Tabernacle

After the Lord discloses his purpose for building the tabernacle, he includes precise instructions for building it and the various articles that will inhabit it. These instructions are not random or arbitrary, but patterned after the heavenly tabernacle. In this way, the heavenly tabernacle is shadowed down from heaven to earth in the earthly tabernacle (cf. Heb. 8:5-6). Geerhardus Vos explains from the epistle to the Hebrews,

When the Epistle [to the Hebrews] speaks of shadowing this means shadowing down (from heaven to earth), not shadowing forward (from Old Testament to New Testament). … The New Testament is not merely a reproduction of the Heavenly Reality, but its actual substance, the Reality itself come down from heaven. … In [Hebrews] 9:24 the author speaks of the earthly tabernacle as the antitype of the true tabernacle. … This manner of speaking differs from our own, and also from that of Paul and Peter. The latter uniformly regard the Old Testament as the type of which the New Testament is the antitype; this is the common New Testament usage. But the author of Hebrews, on the contrary, speaks of the Old Testament as the antitype. An antitype, of course, always has a type lying back of it as its model. To find the original type, of which the Old Testament is the antitype, then, we must go back of the Old Testament to heaven. This heavenly type was shown to Moses on Mount Sinai.[2]

The earthly tabernacle is the antitype of the heavenly tabernacle, which is the type. But in relationship to the New Testament (when the reality actually comes down from heaven), the tabernacle stands as a type for Jesus Christ and the church, which are the antitypes. This means that the reality did not come down in the tabernacle, only a shadow did. And this shadow prefigures the substance of the reality in the New Testament, namely, Jesus Christ and the church. Thus, the tabernacle was not an end in itself, but always pointed to something greater.

The Three Areas of the Tabernacle

The tabernacle consisted of three distinct areas: the courtyard, the Holy Place, and the Holy of Holies (the inner sanctum wherein the ark of the covenant was located).[3] The ark “served a double function, being both the footstool of a throne and a chest. Understood as a footstool, the ark of the covenant extends the heavenly throne to the earth; this is where the divine king’s feet touch the earth. Consequently, the tabernacle links heaven and earth.”[4] Solomon assumes this link in his prayer at the dedication of the temple (1 Kgs. 8:30-51; 2 Chron. 6:22-39).

The Tabernacle is Associated with the Garden

T. Desmond Alexander notes three aspects of this special sanctuary that link it to God’s plans for the earth.

First, “the tabernacle has features that associate it closely with the Garden of Eden.”[5] The tabernacle was entered from the east, the lampstand may have resembled the tree of life, and the priests were to עבד and שׁמר the sanctuary (Num 3:7-8; 8:26; 18:5-6), which were the exact commands given to Adam in the garden (Gen. 2:15). The parallels clearly reveal that God is continuing his plan for the Garden of Eden with the construction of the tabernacle.

The Tabernacle is God’s Dwelling Place

Second, “the tabernacle becomes the dwelling place of God on earth.”[6] He says to Moses, “And let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst” (Ex. 25:8). The text suggests that God lived within the Holy of Holies (a development from the temporary residence he had throughout the patriarchal epoch). William Dumbrell writes,

The tabernacle’s significance [is] nothing less than the seat of divine kingship, fashioned as a copy of the heavenly temple/palace. Thus the golden calf incident interrupts the building of the tabernacle since it entails a denial of Yahweh’s rule. But acknowledgment of this lordship will secure peace in Israel’s greater sanctuary, the promised land. Here the twin motifs of tabernacle and Sabbath intertwine. The tabernacle symbolizes the presence of Yahweh the King who returns Israel to Eden rest by transforming the promised land into a sanctuary.[7]

The articles found in the tabernacle such as an ark (or chest), a table for food, and a lampstand for light point to its use as a home. The glut of gold found in the holy of holies would be consistent with God living there since it best (though inadequately) reflects the honor of the one dwelling there, namely, God himself.

The most convincing evidence that God lived there, however, is found when the construction of the tabernacle is completed and we read that “the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle” (Exod. 40:34; cf. Num. 9:15-17, 22). This is the same cloud that we said earlier God dwelt in. The divine presence in the holy of holies prevented Moses from entering it, though he would regularly meet with God here at the “tent of meeting” (Exod. 27:21; 28:43; 29:4; 40:2; Lev. 1:1; 3:2; Num. 1:1; 2:2) where God’s glory surrounded it.

The exceptionally holy status of the area also contributes to this understanding of the tabernacle as the Lord’s house. The further one moved away from the holy of holies the more access was granted.[8] In general, the people were permitted in the courtyard, the priests in the Holy Place, and only the high priest on the Day of Atonement after intense cleansing in the holy of holies. How amazing that the infinite God whose presence bursts the heavens takes residence in a 15 x 15 x 15 room constructed by human hands! The entire narrative screams of grace. How could a holy God dwell with a sinful people (cf. Exod. 32)? By grace alone. How could an infinite God be said to dwell in a small cube constructed by human hands? By grace alone.

The Tabernacle is a Model of the Cosmos

Third, “the tabernacle was probably also viewed as a model of the cosmos.”[9] In the Ancient Near East, temples were often viewed as microcosms. The various elements of the tabernacle also convey this idea. For example, the blue, purple, and scarlet colored fabrics may represent the colors of the sky, as Beale argues.[10] The light emanated from the lampstand may represent the sun, moon, and stars (Gen. 1:14-16). There are also links between the construction of the tabernacle and the creation of the earth. J. Richard Middleton notes that Bezalel is portrayed using terminology associated with the creation of the earth, being filled with wisdom, understanding, knowledge (cf. Prov. 3:19-20) and all crafts (cf. Gen. 2:2-3).[11] Note similar language is used to denote Hiram in 1 Kings 7 who constructs various furnishings for the temple. Like Bezalel he is “full of wisdom and understanding and knowledge” with regard to bronze work (1 Kings 7:14).

The wisdom literature often depicts the creation as a tent (Ps. 19:4-5; 104:2; Prov. 3:19; 8:27; Job 28:26; 38:4-7), as do the prophets (Isa. 48:13; 51:13, 16; Zech. 12:1; Amos 9:6). “As models of the ideal cosmos, the tabernacle and temple are designed to remind people of God’s original purpose for the world.”[12]

The Tabernacle is Not Ultimate

The cosmic imagery of the tabernacle highlights the fact that this was not to be the final dwelling place of God, but that the whole earth is to become God’s dwelling place. “The temple was a small-scale model and symbolic reminder to Israel that God’s glorious presence would eventually fill the whole cosmos.”[13] The heavenly reality that the tabernacle was modeled after would one day come down (cf. Heb. 9:23ff). The tabernacle was a step towards the fulfillment of this, for with it God takes up permanent (though mobile) residence on earth.

[1] G. K. Beale argues for this in A New Testament Biblical Theology, 608-10; see also Nahum M. Sarna, Exodus, 105.

[2] Vos, The Teaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews, 58; see also pp. 57-65.

[3] Beale observes that Mount Sinai (or the mountain-temple) also had three distinct areas: “the majority of the Israelites were to remain at the foot of Sinai (Exod. 19:12, 23), the priests and seventy elders… were allowed to come some distance up the mountain (Exod. 19:22; 24:1), but only Moses could ascend to the top and directly experience the presence of God (Exod. 24:2)” (A New Testament Biblical Theology, 608).

[4] Alexander, From Eden to the New Jerusalem, 33.

[5] Ibid., 34.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Dumbrell, The End in the Beginning, 35.

[8] See T. Desmond Alexander, From Paradise to the Promised Land, 206-215.

[9] Alexander, From Eden to the New Jerusalem, 37; This view is also taken by Levenson, “Temple and the World,” 283-298; Barker, Gate of Heaven, 104-132; Beale, Temple and the Church’s Mission, 48.

[10] Beale, “Eden, the Temple,” 16.

[11] Middleton, The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1, 87.

[12] Alexander, From Eden to the New Jerusalem, 41. “With the book of Exodus Israel enters into the cosmic plan which Yahweh laid out at the beginning of the world” (M.S. Smith, Pilgrimage Pattern in Exodus, 117).

[13] Beale, “Eden, the Temple,” 18.

In a context of impending judgment, Yahweh issued a command to his people: prepare to meet your God, O Israel (Amos 4:12). A similar burden, though in quite a different context, characterizes Exodus 19:10–15.

With Israel camped around Mt. Sinai and Yahweh at the summit, final arrangements were being settled for the tremendous scene of God entering into covenant with the house of Jacob (19:1–3). Moses, functioning as mediator, ascended and descended the mountain to convey God’s words to the people, and their words back to God (19:3, 7, 8, 9, 14).

Since Yahweh was going to manifest himself in the most awe-inspiring theophany yet, a special preparation was called for on the part of the people of Israel. Its four requirements can be summarized in the one word: holiness. The people needed to be consecrated (19:10, 14), a fact which highlights that their default condition was not one of suitable holiness for such an encounter. They had three days in which to be consecrated (19:11, 15).

Four Requirements for Preparing to Meet God

The first requirement was to wash their clothes (19:10). It was inevitable that clothing should become dusty and grimy in traveling through a wilderness. While holiness is not intrinsically related to cleanliness, outward cleansing functions as a sign of inward purification. Israel’s innate lack of holiness did not consist of a spot or two of inadequacy—they were covered with unholiness as with a robe.

The second requirement was to set a boundary around the mountain, not to be transgressed on pain of death (19:12­­­­­–13). Anyone who did was to be shot or stoned. Human pride and daring have no place in an encounter with the holy God. The boundary was for Israel’s own protection.

The third requirement was to assemble at the sound of the trumpet (19:13). They were to be witnesses of Yahweh’s descent and the audience of his voice. United and respectful attention to his voice was the most fundamental requirement of the covenant (19:5), without which there could be no real holiness.

The fourth requirement was a temporary abstinence from intimate marital relations (19:15). In the New Testament, Paul also allowed occasional, brief interruptions of normal sexual activity within marriage for the purpose of prayer and fasting (1 Corinthians 7:1–5). As with washing clothes, this was a ceremonial expression of holiness. It highlighted that the fountain of new human life has been corrupted. So far from being born holy and subsequently becoming defiled, since the fall of Adam humans have been conceived in sin (Psalm 51:5).

Three Lessons from Preparing to Meet God

These four requirements of holiness powerfully held out three lessons fundamental for anyone preparing to meet God.

First, human lack of holiness is a profoundly pervasive problem. There is no moment of our existence that is prior to our defilement. And this lack of holiness is not confined to a small area, but it overspreads our entire existence.

Second, human lack of holiness is a genuine obstacle to meeting with God. The unholiness of mankind puts them in great danger from the holiness of God. Yahweh’s absolute purity of being and act sets him utterly apart from a corrupted humanity.

Third, only God’s grace opens up the way to a safe encounter of God with man. The very obstacles mentioned highlight how surprising this event was. God took the initiative to bring about this encounter and protect the people from the consuming fire of his holiness. The fact that this comes about in context of a covenant and using a mediator is significant, but somewhat in the background in this text.

Meeting God in Christ 

By this point, the connection to Jesus Christ should be apparent. The only way for a defiled people to safely encounter their holy God, is through Jesus Christ. His incarnation, death, and resurrection are the ultimate theophany. In him, God has drawn near to defiled mankind, bringing pardon and purification for sin in his wake. The only true way to prepare to meet our God is to trust in Jesus Christ.

For Further Reflection

For a discussion on the covenant theology of Exodus 19 and 24 listen to episode 25 of Vos Group, The Berith Made between Jehovah and Israel, led by Drs. Lane G. Tipton and Camden Bucey. For more on the topic of holiness see The Message of Leviticus where Rev. Dr. David Graves takes us to this important book of the Pentateuch to demonstrate how Jesus Christ, the once-for-all sacrifice, satisfies the demands for God’s justice.