I don’t know how you choose which book of the Bible or passage to read in your own personal study. Maybe you’re directed by a devotional book. Maybe you follow a certain reading plan through an app or Bible study. Or maybe sometimes you just think “oh yeah, there’s that book of the Bible and I literally know nothing/forgot everything about it.”
I’m pretty sure pages 263-323 of my personal ESV study Bible are not accustomed to the light of day. Numbers. I know I’ve read through it once upon a time, but it was just hanging out there towards the front of my Bible with this air of unfamiliarity. Some of our curriculum at school is based in Numbers, so I’ve taught portions of it. And teaching 2nd graders about Balaam’s donkey is an absolute riot, let me tell you. Our church even did a short series on Numbers a while back, but apart from one sermon about Nazarites burning their hair that totally disrupted me in the best way, I don’t remember a lot about it.
So I started reading the book of Numbers this summer. I was ready for long censuses and lots of grumbling with the glorious Christological picture of the bronze snake sandwiched in the middle. That’s it. I found once again that the Bible has such a pleasant way of surprising me.
Within the first couple chapters, I was already in awe of how the structure of the Israelite camp reflected who they were as the people of God. For one, the location of the tabernacle at the center of the camp gave credence to the idea that all of life was meant to revolve around the worship of YHWH. I also really love how we’re given the names of all these guys who helped Moses conduct the census in chapter one. Though they never rose to the fame or reputation of their leader, they faithfully participated in the task at hand and were recognized individually for their work.
And then there was the tribe of Levi. The Levites were given the task of guarding and maintaining the tabernacle. This tribe was divided into three subsets named after Levi’s sons: Kohath, Gershon, and Merari (take note all you trendy parents in the market for some obscure biblical baby names). Each one of these groups was responsible for specific elements of the tabernacle.
The Kohathites took care of the furniture, the most holy articles. They cared for and transported the alters, the golden lampstand, and the table of presence for the holy bread. Perhaps most important of all, they were the ones who claimed responsibility for the Ark of the Covenant. This golden box housed some of Israel’s most treasured possessions, such as the Ten Commandments, and ultimately represented the very presence of YHWH. Touching it was absolutely forbidden (a guy named Uzzah learned this the hard way and you can check out his story in 2 Samuel 6. Spoiler alert: he died.). Even these Kohathites had to wait for Aaron and the priests to cover the ark and position poles on its sides before moving it. They would then use those poles to carry it from one campsite to the next.
The Gershonites took care of the tent material itself. All the curtains and clothes and coverings were their responsibility. Unlike the holy furniture that was carried, the curtains were moved by oxcart.
And finally, the Merarites took care of the tent frame, including the posts, crossbars, and tent pegs. These were also transported on oxcarts due to their bulky nature.
Part of me wants to pause here and say that I don’t want to over-spiritualize the way that the tabernacle was transported. At the end of the day, the big tent needed to get from point A to point B and dividing the tasks among the Levitical clans was inherently pragmatic.
But there’s this other part of me that just has to wonder how some of those Merarites felt journeying through the desolate desert walking beside an oxcart loaded down with poles with tent pegs in their hands. They were following the specific instructions given to Moses by God. They were faithfully stepping into their calling. But it’s still got to make you somewhat jealous to look behind you and see second cousin Eleazar helping with the alter of incense.
Why does being a Kohathite seemingly put one in such a different position? Why do they get the honor of caring for the holy articles? It wasn’t because Kohath was the oldest son. Gershon, listed first in Numbers 3:17, was likely the eldest of his brothers, so imagine how cheated his clan probably felt.
God’s people have gotten really good at assigning value to certain tasks. We’ve been doing it for millennia. The tasks of preaching and teaching obviously gets more attention than secretarial duties. The task of international mission work is hailed as heroism while we forget about the nonprofit working for justice right down the street. The task of mothering often gets the spotlight in women’s ministrywhile we downplay the work of women who might never be in that role. The task of “ministry” is venerated whereas “normal jobs” are easy to under-spiritualize. And the task of caring for the Ark of the Covenant naturally lends itself to more respect than taking care of tent pegs.
But despite this culturally constructed hierarchy, every task is needed. Every gift has its place. It makes me think of Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth where he famously compares the Church to a body. “If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be?” he writes, “If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?” (1 Corinthians 12:17).
I know there have been so many times in my life where I’ve gotten trapped in this comparison game. I look at the task God has given me and it seems so pointless when juxtaposed with what so-and-so is doing. Even in writing this blog post this week, I had a little moment. Ok Lord, I really think I’m stepping into my calling and obeying You, but this feels so stupid sometimes. There are people in my stage of life who write books, ok? Like, really well researched, eloquent, best-selling books. My little blog is just a tent peg by comparison.
I can’t help but think that perhaps you’ve felt the same on some days. The task right in front of you doesn’t seem big enough, important enough, spiritual enough, or “flashy” enough. Maybe your contribution seems insignificant at best. Maybe you look around and see other believers carrying gold furniture and you’re tempted to hide your tent pegs in embarrassment.
But devotedly using your unique skill set and gifts is not only good for you and glorifying to God, but it also builds up His church. Without those tent pegs, the tabernacle wouldn’t stand properly.
So today, let’s step into the unique calling that God has placed on us, no matter how small it may seem in the grand scheme of it all. Let’s faithfully attend to the specific task that we’ve been given, and trust that God has a place for those tent pegs.
Cultivate. 