Dressed for Life and Death: The Robe of the Ephod Text: Exodus 28:31-35
Introduction: Clothing is Rhetoric
We live in an age that despises uniforms, despises distinctions, and despises prescribed attire. Our rebellious egalitarianism wants to show up to the king's feast in a t-shirt and jeans, demanding acceptance on our own terms. We think clothing is a matter of personal expression, a canvas for our fleeting moods and identities. But God disagrees. From the very beginning, when God clothed Adam and Eve with skins, He taught us that clothing is not primarily about self-expression. It is about covering, it is about station, and it is about worship. Clothing is rhetoric; it always says something. The question is whether it is speaking God's truth or our own personal brand of nonsense.
In our text today, we come to a detailed set of divine tailoring instructions. God, the Creator of the cosmos, condescends to become a designer of priestly garments. This is not because God has a fussy aesthetic. It is because these garments are a sermon in fabric and thread. They are a walking, living, breathing catechism lesson. Every color, every piece of fruit, every bell is laden with theological weight. The high priest did not get dressed in the morning; he was invested with meaning. He was robed in glory. He was clothed in a microcosm of God's creation and redemptive plan.
The modern evangelical mind, so often allergic to liturgy and symbols, wants to skim past these chapters. We want to get to the "good stuff," the narratives, the direct commands. But in doing so, we miss the profound theology that God has woven into the very fabric of Old Covenant worship. These instructions are not quaint relics for a museum. They are types and shadows, pointing forward to the great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ. If we do not understand the uniform of the shadow, we will fail to appreciate the glory of the substance. Aaron was dressed for his perilous work of mediation, a work that put him on the knife's edge between the holy God and a sinful people. And as we will see, he was dressed for life and for death.
The Text
"You shall make the robe of the ephod entirely of blue. There shall be an opening at its top in the middle of it; around the edge of its opening there shall be a binding of woven work, like the opening of a coat of mail, so that it will not be torn. You shall make on its hem pomegranates of blue and purple and scarlet material, all around on its hem, and bells of gold between them all around: a golden bell and a pomegranate, a golden bell and a pomegranate, all around on the hem of the robe. It shall be on Aaron when he ministers; and its sound shall be heard when he comes into the holy place before Yahweh and when he goes out, so that he will not die."
(Exodus 28:31-35 LSB)
The Heavenly Robe (v. 31-32)
We begin with the robe itself, its color and construction.
"You shall make the robe of the ephod entirely of blue. There shall be an opening at its top in the middle of it; around the edge of its opening there shall be a binding of woven work, like the opening of a coat of mail, so that it will not be torn." (Exodus 28:31-32)
Underneath the intricate ephod with its stones bearing the names of Israel, the high priest wore a simpler, yet profound, garment. It was to be made "entirely of blue." In the Scriptures, blue is the color of the heavens. It speaks of the sky, of the transcendent, of the heavenly origin of God's law and grace. When the elders of Israel went up Sinai with Moses, they saw God, and under His feet was "a pavement of sapphire, as clear as the sky itself" (Ex. 24:10). This robe of blue clothed the high priest in the color of heaven. It was a constant, visual reminder that his authority, his message, and his ministry were not from men, but from God. He was a man of earth, but he was wrapped in the sky.
This is a direct polemic against all man-made religion. The priests of paganism were dressed to represent the chthonic, the earthly, the chaotic forces of nature. Their religion came from the mud. But the priest of Yahweh was robed in the heavens. He represented a God who is not contained within creation, but who rules over it from on high. This robe declared that true worship is a response to divine revelation, not a product of human imagination.
Notice the practical detail about the opening for the head. It was to be reinforced with a binding, "like the opening of a coat of mail, so that it will not be torn." This is not merely a practical instruction to prevent wear and tear. The high priest's garments were holy. A torn garment signified grief, disaster, or sacrilege. When Caiaphas tore his robes at the trial of Jesus, it was a profound, albeit unwitting, sign that his priesthood was finished (Matt. 26:65). This reinforced collar signified the durability and perfection of the priesthood God was establishing. It was not to be rent. It was a picture of the indestructible priesthood of Jesus Christ, who holds His office permanently, "because He continues forever" (Heb. 7:24). His ministry will never fray, never tear, never come apart at the seams.
Fruitfulness and Proclamation (v. 33-34)
Around the hem of this heavenly robe, there was an intricate and curious pattern.
"You shall make on its hem pomegranates of blue and purple and scarlet material, all around on its hem, and bells of gold between them all around: a golden bell and a pomegranate, a golden bell and a pomegranate, all around on the hem of the robe." (Exodus 28:33-34 LSB)
The hem of a garment, in the ancient world, represented the owner's authority and identity. When David cut off the corner of Saul's robe, he was symbolically attacking his kingship. Here, at the very edge of the priest's authority, we have two things alternating in a steady rhythm: pomegranates and golden bells. This is not random decoration. This is the rhythm of true ministry.
First, the pomegranates. A pomegranate is a remarkable fruit. On the outside, it is plain, even leathery. But when you open it, it is filled with hundreds of vibrant seeds, each encased in sweet, juicy flesh. It is a picture of abundant life, of fruitfulness, of a people numerous and blessed. The spies brought back pomegranates from the promised land as evidence of its richness (Num. 13:23). These pomegranates on the priest's robe symbolized the fruit of his ministry. A true priest is a life-giver. His work is to bring forth a fruitful people for God, a people bursting with the seeds of the Word. The colors are significant: blue for heaven, purple for royalty, and scarlet for blood and sacrifice. The fruitfulness of God's people is a heavenly reality, it makes them a royal priesthood, and it is all purchased by blood.
Alternating with the fruit are the golden bells. A bell makes a sound. It proclaims. It announces a presence. The priest's ministry was not silent. It was a ministry of proclamation. He was to teach the law, to declare God's statutes, and to pronounce God's blessing. The bells represent the audible gospel. They are the sound of God's Word going forth. Notice the pattern: a bell and a pomegranate, a bell and a pomegranate. Proclamation and fruitfulness. Word and life. These two things must always go together. A ministry that is all bells and no pomegranates is just a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. It is empty orthodoxy with no life. A ministry that seeks pomegranates without the bells is a social club trying to produce fruit apart from the proclaimed Word of God, which is impossible. The gospel must be heard, and when it is truly heard, it produces fruit.
The Sound of Life (v. 35)
Finally, we are given the stark, life-or-death reason for this peculiar arrangement.
"It shall be on Aaron when he ministers; and its sound shall be heard when he comes into the holy place before Yahweh and when he goes out, so that he will not die." (Exodus 28:35 LSB)
This is where the rubber of all this symbolism meets the road of reality. Entering the presence of a holy God is a dangerous business for a sinful man. Even for the high priest, chosen and consecrated, it was fraught with peril. God is a consuming fire, and one does not simply wander into the furnace unbidden or unprepared. The sound of the bells was a matter of life and death. Why?
The sound announced his coming. It showed that he was approaching God according to God's own prescription. He was not sneaking in. He was not coming on his own terms. The bells were a sign of submissive obedience. He was dressed as God commanded, moving as God commanded. The sound also served as a constant reminder to the priest himself of his office and his peril. He could not move without being reminded that he was the high priest, ministering before the living God.
But typologically, this points us straight to Christ. Aaron was a sinful man representing other sinful men. He needed the bells to announce his authorized presence, lest he be struck down. The people outside, listening, would hear the bells and know their representative was alive, still ministering on their behalf. If the sound stopped, it would mean disaster. It would mean their mediator was dead. But our great High Priest, Jesus Christ, has entered the true holy place, heaven itself, not with the sound of bells, but with the announcement of His own finished work. His cry of "It is finished!" was the sound that guaranteed He would not die in the presence of God's wrath. He absorbed that wrath for us.
Because Jesus entered the holy place and did not die, but was instead raised and seated at the Father's right hand, we now know that our Mediator lives. The sound we listen for is not the tinkling of golden bells from a hidden sanctuary, but the triumphant proclamation of the gospel throughout the world. Every time the gospel is preached, it is the sound of our High Priest, alive and ministering for us. He has gone into the presence of God, and because He lives, we shall live also. He did not die, so that we will not die.
Our Priestly Garments
This is not just a lesson about ancient history. As believers, we are a "royal priesthood" (1 Peter 2:9). We too have been given garments. We are clothed in the righteousness of Christ. That is our blue robe, our heavenly standing before the Father. We are not our own; we are robed in Him.
And we too are called to walk with the rhythm of bells and pomegranates. We are called to proclamation and fruitfulness. Our lives are to make a sound. We are to speak of the glories of Christ, to confess His name before men, to sing His praises. This is the joyful noise of our golden bells. And as we proclaim His truth, the Spirit works in us and through us to produce fruit: the fruit of repentance, the fruit of righteousness, the fruit of new converts brought into the kingdom. Our words and our works, our confession and our conduct, must walk in this divine rhythm.
Aaron had to wear these things so that he would not die. But we wear our priestly identity because Christ has already died. He faced the silence of the tomb so that our lives could be filled with the sound of praise. He entered the darkness so that we could be clothed in heavenly blue. He was cut off from the land of the living so that we could be fruitful forever. Therefore, let us put on our priestly calling with joy and with trembling. Let us make a clear sound, and let us bear much fruit, for our High Priest is not dead. He is alive, and He is ministering for us now.