Suggested readings for Sukkot: Leviticus 22:26-23:44; Numbers 29:12-16; Zechariah 14:1-21
This week's 'Thought' is coming to you from a slightly damp tent at the bottom of my garden, having decided this year to follow some of the instructions God gave in Leviticus 23:34-43 for celebrating the Feast of Tabernacles. The Feast of Tabernacles is the climax of God's cycle of blessing in the Jewish year, during which he instructed Israelites to dwell in temporary shelters or sukkah (the singular of sukkot, the Hebrew name for this feast). God told them to "live in tabernacles for 7 days...so your descendants will know that I had the Israelites live in tabernacles when I brought them out of Egypt" (Lev 23:42-43).
During Sukkot we remember and celebrate God's abundant provision. We have a God who desires to be with us always so that we can experience His power, goodness and glory continually; as the Israelites journeyed and dwelled in tents, God instructed them to build Him a tent too (Ex 25:8), so that He could journey and dwell with them.
Sukkot is meant to be a special festival for every generation, in which time and space is specifically appointed for us to draw near to God and one another. I am 25, and until now I have never made the slightest effort to celebrate the festival – but this year has been different and I have been blessed.
Pitching Up
Last Sunday, the start of Sukkot, was quite a blustery day for erecting a temporary dwelling - but thankfully I had family on hand and we got the tent up without argument or injury! I began thinking about the hassle it must have been for the Israelites to spend 40 years packing and unpacking their lives, never really settling. I wonder how many realised that the joy of God dwelling with them as their Companion eclipsed any pleasure of a permanent dwelling-place.
But taking part in Sukkot is more than just bringing these events to mind. In some way, it is sharing them, re-living them. Pitching a tent is a very physical activity, which brought me to a new level of understanding of the Israelites' journey. I felt that I was re-enacting some small part of their experiences in the desert, walking in their footsteps instead of just thinking or talking about them. It reminded me of Tatamkhulu Afrika's poem- "my feet know, and my hands, and the skin about my bones, and the soft labouring of my lungs".
Tabernacling with God
Three things have particularly been on my mind as I have camped out with God this week. First, I have been struck by the flimsy nature of my shelter, which has caused me to think on how transitory and brief are our lives on earth. Our entire existence is but a temporary dwelling, easily buffeted by the weather. This puts things in perspective! Also, just as I am unusually close to the heavens within this thin little tent, so we should be seeking to keep the trappings of life thin and unobtrusive, not obscuring our proximity to God.
Secondly, despite 25 years of camping experience it never ceases to amaze me how canvas can amplify the British weather! When in a tent, a light breeze is transformed into a maelstrom and light drizzle sounds like a torrential downpour - even temperatures are amplified one way or the other. It's easy to imagine how the Israelites came to groaning - everything seems worse when you're in a tent! But looking at and interpreting circumstances from our own perspectives breeds frustration and despair - not the praise and joy of Sukkot. If we forget to just take a step outside and look up, we easily acquire a distorted view of reality. For the Israelites, the period in the wilderness was actually part of God's answer to their cry for freedom from the oppression of Egypt.
Finally, being in a tent this week has changed my understanding of what it means to wait upon the Lord. It reminded me first of all the things for which I am personally waiting on God, stirring up in me impatience and frustration and stopping me from entering into the joy and rest of Sukkot. Then God showed me that waiting on Him is not a punishment, but an answer to prayer – and a crucial part of the development of my character and faith (just like Joseph in Psalm 105:19). Waiting on God is actually the highest privilege of man; it's what we're made for.
Rejoice in the Waiting
If you're in a season of waiting at the moment, be encouraged that this is part of God's purpose for your life. It's a destination in itself. Take advantage of the time and sink your roots deeper into Him. As long as our heart is for Him, He will see that we are in the right place at the right time every day, learning the right things. Maybe He wants you to have joy in His full control of the situation, or to know that He loves to abide with you - that he is not holding your sins against you, but calling you to draw near to walk with Him, at His pace.
If we're in pace with God, He will dwell with us and His glory will be in our midst as a normality. For the Israelites, this meant God was there to provide for them, speak to them, fight their battles and supply all their needs.
God could change our circumstances individually, nationally and globally in an instant but, in His infinite wisdom, He knows that it's often worth waiting. I pray that I and everyone who reads this would seek and learn to live continually in the glory of God's abiding presence. Let's not leave it until next year to pitch a tent and ask God to dwell with us. Invite him into your tabernacle now. Seek out the opportunities for rejoicing that God creates in the waiting. Call on Him whilst he is near and celebrate that our God is not far off and nameless, but close and desiring to be known.
Author: Buffy Rabbitts
