Smiling, Moses blessed them.
Under Moses’ watchful eye, the Tabernacle was set up on the first day of the month. The Ark of the Covenant was placed inside and a heavy curtain hung to veil it from sight. To the right was the table of the Bread of the Presence and to the left the golden lampstand of pure gold, six branches coming out from the center, three on the left and three on the right with flowerlike cups at the top. In front of the curtain, Moses placed the gold altar of incense. Heavy curtains were drawn around and over the Most Holy Place.
The altar of burnt offerings was placed in front of the entrance to the Tabernacle. The basin was placed between the Tent of Meeting and the altar and filled with water. Curtains were hung around the Tabernacle, the altar, and basin; and another more elaborate curtain hung at the entrance for the courtyard.
When everything was set up according to the Lord’s instructions, Moses anointed the Tabernacle and everything in it with oil and pronounced it holy to the Lord. He then anointed the altar of burnt offerings and the basin and consecrated them to the Lord.
Aaron and his sons were called forward. Aaron felt the eyes of all on him as he entered the courtyard. Men, women, and children stood by the thousands behind him, just beyond the curtain. Moses removed Aaron’s clothing and washed him from head to foot, then helped him slip on a fine woven white tunic and a blue robe with pomegranates of blue, purple, and scarlet yarn around the hem and gold bells between them. “When you enter the Most Holy Place, the Lord will hear the bells, and you will not die.” Moses straightened Aaron’s garment.
Stomach quivering, arms outstretched, Aaron stood still while Moses secured the ephod with the shoulder pieces, two onyx stones engraved with the names of the sons of Israel and mounted in gold filigree. “You will bear the names of the sons of Israel as a memorial before the Lord.”
Upon the ephod rested the square chestpiece with four rows of precious stones mounted and set in gold filigree: a ruby, topaz, beryl, turquoise, sapphire, emerald, jacinth, agate, amethyst, chrysolite, onyx, and jasper, each engraved for a son of Israel. “Whenever you enter the Holy Place, you will bear the names of the sons of Israel over your heart.” Moses tucked the Urim and the Thummim in the chestpiece over Aaron’s heart. “These will reveal the will of the Lord.”
Aaron shut his eyes as Moses placed the turban on his head. He had seen the plate of engraved gold: Holy to the Lord. It now rested snuggly against his forehead. Moses left him standing alone and went to prepare Aaron’s sons.
Standing in the shadow of the cloud, Aaron trembled. His heart pounded. From this day forth, he would be high priest of Israel. He looked at the basin, the altar of burnt offerings, and the curtain that enclosed the holy pieces inside the Lord’s Tabernacle, afraid he would faint. Never again would he be an ordinary man. The Lord had elevated him, and at the same time made him a servant. Every time he entered the courtyard, he would carry responsibility for the people. He felt the weight of them on his shoulders and over his heart.
When Nadab, Abihu, Ithamar, and Eleazar were dressed in their priestly garments, Moses stood before them and anointed them with oil, consecrating them to the Lord. Then he brought forward a young bull for the sin offering. Aaron remembered his sin in making the golden calf. Blushing, he laid his hand on the head of the animal whose blood would be shed for his sin. His sons placed their hands on the animal’s head as well. Moses slit the throat of the bull and took some of the blood in a bowl and put it on all the horns of the altar. He poured out the rest at the base. He slaughtered the bull and placed the fat around the inner parts, the covering of the liver, and both kidneys as a burnt offering on the altar. The rest of the bull would be burned outside the camp.
The second offering for Aaron and his sons was the ram for the burnt offering. Again, Aaron and his sons laid their hands on the animal. Moses sprinkled the ram’s blood on the altar and then cut the animal into pieces, washed the inner parts and legs, and burned the whole ram on the altar. The smell of roasting meat made Aaron’s stomach clench with hunger. It was a pleasing aroma made to the Lord.
The third offering was another ram, this one for Aaron and his sons’ ordination. Aaron placed his hand on the animal’s head. At his nod, his sons followed his example. Moses cut the animal’s jugular and collected the blood in a bowl. He came to Aaron and, dipping his finger into the blood, put it on Aaron’s right ear. Moses dipped his finger again and anointed Aaron’s right thumb. Kneeling, he dipped his finger one last time and put the blood on the big toe of Aaron’s right foot. He did the same for Aaron’s four sons, and then sprinkled blood against the altar on all sides.
The rams for Aaron and his sons were slaughtered, the pieces stacked with the washed inner parts, and a cake of bread made with oil and one wafer were placed on top. Moses placed the first in Aaron’s hands. Aaron raised the sacrifice before the Lord and then gave it back to his brother, who placed it on the altar. Flames leaped up. Aaron’s sons waved their offerings and gave them to Moses to place on the altar, and each time, the flames exploded around the slaughtered animal, taking it in the place of the sinful men who gave it as offering.
Aaron stood solemn and humbled as Moses sprinkled him first with the fragrant anointing oil and the blood of the sacrifice. Finally, his sons were anointed, from the eldest to the youngest.
Aaron felt the change in the air. The cloud swirled slowly, glowing strangely. His heart raced as the cloud compressed and moved down from the mountain. He heard the people behind him, drawing in their breath, holding it, releasing it in trembling fear. The cloud covered the Tabernacle. A thousand shimmering colors flashed and glowed from within the cloud, and then it poured into the chamber of the Most Holy Place, and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle.
Even Moses could not enter.
The people moaned in awe and reverence and bowed low.
“Cook the meat remaining at the entrance of the Tabernacle and eat it there with the bread from the basket of ordination offerings. Then burn the rest of the meat and bread. Do not leave the entrance of the Tabernacle. You must stay here, day and night for seven days or you will die.”
Aaron watched his brother walk away. When Moses reached the entrance to the courtyard, he looked back solemnly; then he drew the curtains closed.
Aaron faced the Tabernacle. He knew all had been done to cleanse this place and make it sacred. Even he had been washed and dressed in new garments so he could stand before the Lord. But he could not stop the trembling inside, the quiver of fear that the Lord was within feet of him, hidden only by curtains. And Aaron knew he wasn’t worthy to be in this place. He wasn’t clean, not inside. As soon as Moses was out of sight, he turned weak. Hadn’t he allowed his jealousy of Joshua to taint him? Hadn’t he let the people’s fears rule over the commands given to him. Why would God appoint a man like him to be high priest?
Lord, I’m unworthy. You alone are faithful. I am only a man. I failed to lead Your people. Three thousand lost their lives because I was weak. And You spared my life. You appointed me Your high priest. Lord, such mercy is beyond me. Help me to know Your ways and follow them! Help me to be the priest You want me to be! Instruct me in Your ways so that I can serve Your people and keep them strong in faith. Oh, Lord, Lord, help me. . . .
When he was too tired to stand, Aaron knelt, praying that the Lord would give him the strength and wisdom to remember the Law and do everything the Lord commanded. When he became weak from hunger, he and his sons gave thanks, cooked the meat and ate the bread left for them. When he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, he prostrated himself before the Lord and slept with his forehead on his hands.
Eleazar and Ithamar stood before the Tabernacle, arms outstretched, palms up as they prayed. Nadab and Abihu knelt, sitting back against their heels when they tired.
Each day that passed softened Aaron’s heart until he thought he heard the Lord’s voice whispering to him.
I am the Lord your God, and there is no other.
&
nbsp; Aaron lifted his head, listening intently, content.
Nadab stretched and yawned. “So begins the fourth morning.”
Abihu sat cross-legged, forearms resting on his knees. “Three more to go.”
Aaron felt a coldness in the pit of his belly.
On the eighth day, Moses summoned Aaron, his sons, and the elders of Israel. Moses gave them the instructions of the Lord.
Aaron took a bull calf without defect and offered it as sacrifice to atone for his sins. He knew every time he did this, he would remember how he had sinned against the Lord by making a calf idol. Would his sons remember? Would their sons after them? Did the blood of this living calf really ransom him from the sin of making an idol?
More sacrifices followed. When he had made atonement for himself, he would be ready to stand and make the sin offering, burnt offering, and fellowship offerings for the people. The ox fought against the rope, kicking Aaron. He thought he would pass out from the pain, but kept his feet. His sons held the animal more firmly as Aaron used the knife. Next he killed the ram. The sight and smell of blood and the sound of the dying animals filled him with loathing for the sins that brought death. And he thanked God that the Lord allowed these poor beasts to substitute for each man, woman, and child. For all sinned. None could stand before the Lord with a pure heart.
Aaron’s hands were covered with blood, and the corners and sides of the altar dripped with it. Arms aching, he lifted the breasts and right thigh of the sacrifices before the Lord as a wave offering. When all the sacrifices were made, Aaron lifted hands shaking with exhaustion toward the people and blessed them. Then he stepped down.
Moses went with him into the Tabernacle. Aaron’s heart thundered in his ears. His stomach clenched. He was thankful for the heavy curtain that hid the Lord from his sight, for he knew he would die if he ever saw God. If he washed himself in the blood of calves and lambs, it still wouldn’t wash all the sin away. He prayed for himself. He prayed for the people. And then he went outside with Moses and blessed the people.
The air around them changed. He held his breath at the movement—silent, powerful. The glorious presence of the Lord appeared for all to see. He gasped and the people cried out in awe when fire blazed forth from the Lord’s presence and consumed the burnt offering and the fat on the altar.
As sinful as he was, as sinful as these people were who stood trembling in fear, the Lord had accepted their offerings!
Aaron shouted joyfully, tears of relief streaming down his cheeks as he fell facedown before the Lord.
And the people followed his example.
Aaron’s service fell into a routine. Every day, offerings were given at dawn and dusk. The burnt offering remained on the altar hearth throughout the night till morning. Aaron wore his fine linen clothes when performing sacrifices, but changed into others when carrying the ashes of the offerings outside camp. The Lord had said, “The fire must never go out.” And Aaron saw to it that it did not.
Still he worried about it. He dreamed about fire and blood. Even when he was clean, Aaron could smell smoke and blood. He dreamed of people screaming like animals because he had failed to perform his duties properly and appease the Lord’s wrath. Even more disturbing, he knew people went on sinning. Hundreds waited in line to take grievances to the elders, and Moses was always busy with one case or another. The people could not seem to live at peace with one another. It was in their nature to argue, contend, and fight anything that curtailed them in any way. They did not dare question God, but they questioned His representatives without end. They were no different from Adam and Eve, wanting what was denied them, no matter what harm would come in the having.
Aaron tried to encourage his sons. “We must be living examples of righteousness before the people.”
“No one is more righteous than you are, Father.”
Aaron fought the pleasure of Nadab’s flattery, knowing how quickly pride destroyed men. Hadn’t it destroyed Pharaoh and Egypt with him? “Moses is more righteous. And no one is more humble.”
Abihu bristled. “Moses is always in the Tent of Meeting, and where are you? Out there serving the people.”
“It seems to me we have the heavier workload.” Nadab leaned back on a cushion. “When was the last time you saw one of our cousins lift a finger to help?”
Eleazar looked up from a scroll. “Eliezer and Gershom are tending their mother.” He spoke quietly, frowning.
Nadab sneered, pouring himself more wine. “Woman’s work.”
Miriam stood over them. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?”
Nadab glanced at her before holding out his goblet. Abihu refilled it before hanging the wineskin on its hook.
Aaron did not like the tension in their tent. “We are each called to be where we are called to be. Moses is the one who hears the voice of the Lord and brings us God’s instructions. We carry them out. We have been given a great honor by the Lord to serve—”
“Yes, yes.” Nadab nodded. “We know all that, Father. But it is boring to do the same thing day in and day out, knowing we will be doing it for the rest of our lives.”
Aaron felt a wave of heat come up inside him and then sink into a cold lump in his stomach. “Remember whom you serve.” He looked from Nadab to Abihu and then to his two younger sons, who sat silent, heads down. Did they feel as their brothers did? Aaron felt an urgency to warn them. “You will do exactly as the Lord commands. Do you understand?”
Nadab’s eyes changed. “We understand you, Father.” His fingers tightened on his wine goblet. “We will honor the Lord in everything we do. Just as you always have.” He finished his wine and rose. Abihu followed his brother from the tent.
“You shouldn’t let them talk to you that way, Aaron.”
Irritated, he glared at Miriam. “What do you suggest?”
“Take them by the ear! Give them a whipping! Do something! They both think they’re more righteous than you!”
He could think of a dozen men who were more righteous than he was, starting with his brother and his assistant, Joshua. “They will come to their senses when they think about it.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Let it be, woman! I have enough on my mind without your constant nagging!”
“Nagging? As if I haven’t always had your best interest in mind!” Miriam yanked the curtain aside to the women’s chamber. She pulled the curtain down behind her.
The silence was anything but peaceful. Aaron rose. “We have work to do.” He was thankful it was time to return to the Tabernacle. He had no peace in his own tent.
Eleazar sat up. “We’ll be along shortly, Father.” He reached out a hand to help Ithamar.
Aaron let Eleazar and Ithamar precede him. “See that you are.” He snapped the tent flap down behind him.
Eleazar walked beside Aaron. “You’re going to have to do something about them, Father.”
“Is it your place to speak against your brothers?”
“It’s for their sake I speak.”
As Aaron performed his duties, Eleazar and Ithamar worked with him. Disturbed, Aaron thought about what Eleazar had said. Where were Nadab and Abihu? Aaron could not understand his elder sons. There was nowhere Aaron wanted to be so much as in the courtyard of the Lord. To stand in God’s presence was Moses’ calling, but to be this close to the Lord filled Aaron with joy. Why could his elder sons not feel the same way?
Laughter startled Aaron. Who dared laugh inside the courtyard of God? Turning, he saw Nadab and Abihu at the entrance. Dressed in their priestly garments, they held censers in their hands. What did they think they were doing? Aaron started toward them, ready to take them to task when Nadab took a small bag from his sash. He sprinkled dust over the burning coals. Yellow, blue, and red smoke rose, the same kind that Egyptian priests had used in their pagan temples.
“No!” Aaron cried out.
“Relax, Father. We are only paying homage to our God.” Abihu held his censer out and Nada
b sprinkled particles into the coals.
“Would you desecrate God’s holy—”
“Desecrate?” Nadab stood defiant. “Are we not priests? We can show honor to God as we want!” He and Abihu stepped forward.
“Stop!”
A stream of fire shot past Aaron and struck his two elder sons in the chest. The force knocked Aaron and his two younger sons off their feet. Aaron heard Nadab and Abihu screaming and clambered to his feet. The shrieks of their unbearable agony lasted only seconds before they were consumed by flames. They had fallen where they stood in defiance, burned beyond recognition.
With a cry, Aaron’s hands went to his robe. A heavy hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back. “No.” Moses spoke heavily. “Do not mourn by letting your hair hang loose or by tearing your clothes. If you do, you will die, and the Lord will be angry with the whole community of Israel.”
Lungs aching, Aaron swayed.
Moses gripped his arm, steadying him. “Aaron, listen to me. The rest of the Israelites, your relatives, may mourn for Nadab and Abihu, whom the Lord has destroyed by fire. But you are not to leave the entrance of the Tabernacle, under penalty of death, for the anointing oil of the Lord is upon you.”
Aaron remembered the law: No priest was to touch a dead body.
“This is what the Lord meant when He said, ‘I will show Myself holy among those who are near Me. I will be glorified before all the people.’”
Aaron fought back tears, fought down the anguished cry that threatened to choke him. The Lord is holy. The Lord is holy! He fixed his mind on the Lord’s holiness, bending to it. Eleazar and Ithamar lay prostrate before the Tabernacle, faces in the dust, worshiping the Lord.
Moses summoned Aaron’s cousins Mishael and Elzaphan. “Come and carry the bodies of your relatives away from the sanctuary to a place outside the camp.”