The Ark's Testimony: The Presence of God and the Greater Savior

2 Samuel chapter 6, reading the first 17 verses.

Again, David gathered together all the chosen men of Israel, 30,000. And David arose, and went with all the people that were with him, from Baal of Judah, to bring up from thence the ark of God, whose name is called by the name of the Lord of Hosts, that dwelleth between the cherubims. And they set the ark of God upon a new cart, and brought it out of the house of Abinadab, that was in Giba. And Oza and Ao, the sons of Abinadab, drove the new cart. And they brought it out of the house of Abinadab, which was at Gibia, accompanying the ark of God. And Aia went before the ark. And David and all the house of Israel played before the Lord on all manner of instruments made of furwood, even on harps, and on sulties, and on timbals, and on cornets, and on symbols. And when they came to Nikon's threshing floor, Oza put forth his hand to the ark of God, and took hold of it, for the oxen shook it. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Usuza. And God smoked him there for his error. And there he died by the ark of God. And David was displeased because the Lord had made a breach upon Uza. And he called the name of the place Pereza to this day. And David was afraid of the Lord that day and said, "How shall the ark of the Lord come to me?" So David would not remove the ark of the Lord unto him into the city of David. But David carried it aside into the house of Oed Edom the Gitite. And the ark of the Lord continued in the house of Oed Edom the Gitite three months. And the Lord blessed Oed Edom and all his household. And it was told King David, saying, The Lord hath blessed the house of Oed Edom and all that pertainth unto him because of the ark of God. So David went and brought up the ark of God from the house of Oed Edom into the city of David with gladness. And it was so that when they that bear the ark of the Lord had gone six paces, he sacrificed oxmen and fatlings. And David danced before the Lord with all his might. And David was girded with a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting and with the sound of the trumpet. And as the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Mikall David, Saul's daughter, looked through a window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord. and she despised him in her heart. And they brought in the ark of the Lord and set it in his place in the midst of the tabernacle that David had pitched for it. And David offered burnt offerings and peace offerings before the Lord.

Good morning. I'd [clears throat] like to do something just slightly different today because no doubt many of you have heard sermons about this passage of scripture in which the Lord, if we're really honest, sounds a little bit harsh. Killing Oza because the ark was about to fall over and reaching up to steady it and then all of a sudden he gets zapped and he dies. It sounds a little bit harsh. What I'd like to do today is preach a message from the perspective of the ark. Good morning. You may not recognize me at first. I'm not a king, not a prophet. I'm not a priest. I'm a box. At least that's what most people say when they look at me. I am made of acacia wood and overladen with pure gold. There are two cherubs on top of me whose wings stretch out. And on me sits the mercy seat whose measurements give you width and length but no depth because there is no depth to the mercy of God. Inside of me rest the ten commandments. I am the ark of the covenant. I go by other names. In 1 Samuel 3, I'm called the ark of the Lord. In 1 Samuel 4, I'm called the ark of God. In Numbers, I'm called the ark of the covenant of the Lord. In Judges, I'm called the ark of the covenant of God. In Exodus, I'm referred to as the ark of the testimony. In 2 Chronicles, I'm identified as the holy ark. The names are all different, but they all point to the same reality. I am a reminder that the God of heaven has chosen to dwell with his people. I never held God within my walls of gold. You can't. Solomon pointed out that even the heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contained the glory. The one who spoke galaxies into existence could never be contained by anything that his hands had made. And yet there are holy moments when his shikana glory would settle on the mercy seat of God. There are holy moments when his most intense presence were found. The priests could scarcely stand it. The people would stand in awe of it. And it was as if for just a moment, heaven pulled back a curtain and reminded Israel that the God of heaven and the God of earth was pleased to dwell with his people. And for generations, I served as a reminder that the God who made heaven and earth dwelt with his people. I traveled farther than most kings. I crossed the Jordan River while its waters stood back. I watched the walls of Jericho tumble and I stood in the center of battlefields. I witnessed victories and failures, celebrations and funerals. But after all these years, I've learned something. My story has never been about me. My story has always been about a God who refuses to abandon his people. And when our story starts in 2 Samuel chapter 6, I've been waiting waiting for somebody to remember me. Waiting for somebody to remember what I represented. Waiting to come home. I sat in the house of Abenadab for over 20 years. King Saul ruled, armies marched, political battles raged on the Israeli news network and Judo Fox News. People went about their lives, but nobody came for me. And I'm the ark of God. Nobody asked where I was. Nobody seemed concerned that the symbol of God's presence sat forgotten on a hillside. I've noticed something else about people. You can learn to live without things that you desperately need. You can become accustomed to being distant from God. You can become comfortable with spiritual dryness. You can learn to function without fellowship. You can build kingdoms while neglecting the king. And then one day, David came. And for the first time in many years, I thought, I'm finally going home. The music started. Thousands gathered. There was excitement everywhere. People were singing. Instruments were playing. The celebration was magnificent. But there was a problem. Nobody asked God how I was supposed to be carried. And they built a new cart. It's modern, efficient, practical. Philistines had used a cart. The nations around them had used carts. Everybody agreed it was a great idea. But the Lord had commanded in Exodus 25 that the priests were supposed to carry me on their shoulders using poles prepared specifically for that purpose. Nobody asked God. You know, people are still doing that today. They might not be building cards. Maybe they're building a family. Maybe they're building a relationship. Maybe they're building a belief system. People are doing that without asking God even today. And people have always been tempted to replace God's instruction with human ingenuity. was modern and efficient and practical. But as the oxen stumbled, Usuza reached out and touched me and the celebration ended instantly. Silence filled the air. Fear swept through the crowd. David became angry and then confused and then afraid. I am the ark of God. And I've noticed something else. People are very comfortable with a God that is useful, but they're not necessarily comfortable with a God who is holy. But holiness is not cruelty. Holiness is not harshness from God. Holiness is the blazing perfection of God. And the problem that day was not that God was too severe. The problem was that Israel was too casual. and they wanted God's presence while ignoring God's voice. And that never works. So for three months, David left me behind in the house of Obed Edom. I remember arriving there. No celebration, no palace, no throne, no royal procession. the ark of God. Just an ordinary home. That's where I was left. The kind of home that that nobody ever notices. Sat there for three months. And then something happened. You see it in verse 12. The Lord blessed that home. He blessed the family. He blessed the labor. He blessed the lives. Not because I possess some magical power. just wooden gold. The blessing came from the God whose presence I represented. And I've discovered something. God loves to visit ordinary places. He delights in showing kindness to ordinary people. He often does his best work far from palaces and spotlights. And he still does today. He loves the ordinary areas of your life that that you think are ordinary or or maybe even beyond his notice. Conversation with a child or a friend or a coworker is like a seed that can have a multitude of benefits long after you've even forgotten about it. That's our God. And then a word eventually reaches David. The Lord has blessed the house of Obed Eden. And then suddenly David, the man after God's own heart, remembers and he understands. The problem has never been the presence of the ark. Problem has been the approach. And then David came again. This time things were different. This time they carried me. This time they honored God's word. This time sacrifices were altered. This time reverence accompanied celebration. In verse 13, as we begin our journey towards Jerusalem, I watched something happened inside of David. The king who had been afraid became joyful. The man who had been confused became thankful. The man who once stood at the distance now drew near. They would go six steps and stop and sacrifice. Six steps and stop and sacrifice. Blood was shed and worship filled the air. And it pointed back to something because in the Bible on the seventh day was the Sabbath day where there's a rest. And before the Israelites would take that seventh step, before they would enter into a rest, sacrifice needed to be made. And it was a reminder that the Lord's rest, the ultimate rest, had to have a sacrifice because I am the ark of God. And I was pointing something greater than myself. So David understood now something that every child of God must eventually learn. Nobody approaches a holy God without sacrifice. And for centuries, animals would be offered upon the altar. But even as I watched those sacrifices, I knew that they pointed beyond themselves. They pointed to someone greater, some I had been foreshadowing for a long time. And as we entered Israel, David danced. And I've seen a lot of kings in my time. Most are concerned with appearances. Most are careful to protect their dignity. But David, he forgot all about his dignity. Because David was overwhelmed with gratitude. He understood that the greatest treasure in Jerusalem was not the throne. It was not the crown. It was not the city. It was the presence of God. And when David danced and MueL watched from a window, one rejoiced and another criticized. One worshiped and another jo judged. And I've seen many kinds of people in my day. those who jump in, pitch in, rejoice, and those who remain just far enough away to critique, the agnostics, the atheist, the lukewarm, and I can tell you from experience that joy is always found closer to God than criticism is. But before I leave you this morning, there's something else important that you have to understand. I'm the ark of God. But I am not the hero in this story. And I never was. I am just a mere shadow, a signpost. I'm a picture. Inside me rested the tablets of the law. But one day the lawgiver himself would come. Inside me rested the mana from heaven. But one day the true bread of life would come. Inside me rested Aaron's rod that had budded. But one day the great high priest himself would come. I represented God's presence among his people. And one day God would no longer dwell above a mercy seat fashioned with gold. One day, as John would say, the word became flesh and dwelt among us. One day, Jesus himself would walk among his people. He would touch lepers. He would heal the broken. He would raise the dead. He would carry a cross. And by that cross, he would accomplish everything that all my symbols merely anticipated. I am the ark of God. And for centuries, I pointed to Christ. Every sacrifice pointed to Jesus. Every priest pointed to Jesus. Every drop of blood pointed to Jesus. Every journey pointed to Jesus. And when he came, the story of scripture reached its ultimate fulfillment. So, if I could leave you with one final thought, it would be this. Don't stop at me. Don't stop at symbols. Don't stop at shadows. Run to the Savior who they've been pointing to all along. I carried symbols. Jesus accomplished salvation. I represented God's presence. Jesus is God. I am the ark and I spent centuries waiting to come home. But through Jesus, all his children from every nation, kindred, tongue, tribe, and creed have been given a home. By his life, by his death, by his resurrection, and nothing else, he accomplished everything necessary and saved his people eternally. Nothing remains to be added. Nothing remains to be earned. And now through the gospel, he invites his children to enjoy that heavenly home and citizenship even while they journey in this world. He invites the weary to lay down their burdens and rest beneath his work. He invites the fearful to quiet their hearts in the shelter of his presence. He invites the wanderer to anchor their souls in him, no matter how far you've gone. He invites the broken to sit beside him and mend the shattered areas of their soul. He invites us all to enjoy the warmth of a home that his love has already secured in heaven. He invites us to live today with the songs of heaven that are already echoing in our heart. I am the ark. And after all these generations, after all these victories, after all these failures that I have witnessed, I can tell you this. The greatest treasure was never the gold that covered me. The greatest treasure was not the city that welcomed me. The greatest treasure has always been the God who delights to dwell with his people. And there is no sweeter place on earth than be close to the presence of the King. And there's no greater joy than resting in the finished work of Savior who has given us a home. If you'd like to follow him as we do here at Camp Creek Church, give you that chance as we stand to sing hymn number him number six.

‍