The Tabernacle

by David Hamilton

When in the wilderness of desolation I see,
A gate of blue, purple and scarlet inviting me
Within the linen that surrounds the court,
I know I’m near the righteous port

Moving closer I encounter the altar,
A restoration place for all who falter
Here the blameless sacrifice ascends,
Joining the acceptance, of God who descends

Then the fire of God is revealed,
Consuming sin so long concealed
A place of death and repentance,
That I may rise, free from its sentence

Approaching the laver, as to the grave,
Buried in water, arising to be saved
A priest passing through the door of grace,
Dressed to serve in His Holy Place

To the right a table of wood and gold,
And on it the bread, which never grows old
Eternally fresh the sustaining Word,
Life when eaten by those who’ve heard

Turning to the Lamp, the Menorah of gold,
Skillfully wrought without a mold
In its light the tapestries displayed,
Revealing walls of wood that is gold overlaid,

A cloud of incense of worship and praise,
Fills the chamber with its fragrant haze
Cherubim woven, their wings hovering,
All who enter are protected by its cover

Before the veil I now stand,
The way is open for me, a mortal man
For which cause the Lamb was sent,
That this partition be, forever rent

Opening the way to the throne of God,
Into his presence, the Holy of Holies I trod
Oh! The glorious majesty of it all,
Before the Ark of His Covenant I must fall

For in this room is the throne of grace,
It is here God calls His secret place
A place not hidden to those within,
The ones who are washed and freed from sin

Here among God’s holy objects,
The Truth revealed, in this divine project
The house designed for all in shackles,
Can only be God’s perfect plan

The Tabernacle