Commentary - Exodus 36:35-38

Bird's-eye view

In these closing verses of Exodus 36, we are observing the faithful craftsmanship of God's people as they construct the partitions of the Tabernacle. This is not merely an architectural report; it is a theological statement written in fabric, wood, and metal. The passage details the creation of two crucial barriers: the great veil separating the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place, and the screen for the entrance to the tent itself. Both items, through their materials, colors, and placement, preach the same two-part sermon. The first part is that God is holy, and sinful man is barred from His immediate presence. The second, woven into the very fabric, is that God has made a way for access, a way that is beautiful, costly, and guarded. The cherubim on the inner veil are not decorative flourishes; they are heavenly sentinels, reminding all who approach that the way into the presence of the thrice-holy God is not a trivial matter. This entire enterprise, from the fine twisted linen to the bases of bronze, is a portrait of the coming reality in Jesus Christ, who is both the veil to God's holiness and the door through which we may enter.

What we are reading is a description of obedience. The instructions were given back in chapter 26, and here, filled with the Spirit of God, the craftsmen execute those instructions to the letter. This is how God's house is built, not by human ingenuity or aesthetic preference, but by careful attention to the divine blueprint. The glory of the Tabernacle was not in its design, though it was glorious, but in the fact that it was a precise copy of the heavenly reality God had revealed to Moses. This is a profound lesson for the church in every age. We are called to build, not according to the spirit of the age, but according to the Word of God.

Outline

Context In Exodus

This section of Exodus is part of the larger narrative block detailing the construction of the Tabernacle. The book of Exodus can be broadly divided into three parts: Israel's deliverance from Egypt (chapters 1-18), the giving of the Law at Sinai (chapters 19-24), and the instructions for and construction of the Tabernacle (chapters 25-40). The golden calf apostasy in chapters 32-34 serves as a crucial, dark interlude, highlighting Israel's profound need for the very system of atonement and mediated worship that the Tabernacle provides. Chapters 35-40, where our passage is located, are the fulfillment of the divine commands given in chapters 25-31. There is a deliberate and careful repetition between the instructions and the execution, emphasizing Israel's return to obedience after their great sin. This passage, then, is not just about curtains and poles; it's about a restored relationship, a covenant people faithfully building a dwelling place for their God in their midst, precisely as He commanded.

Key Issues

The Fabric of the Gospel

It is a great temptation for modern readers to skim over passages like this. We see a list of materials and measurements, and it feels like reading an inventory sheet. But we must resist this temptation with all our might. Every detail here is dripping with theological significance. God is teaching His people, and us, about His own character and the nature of salvation. The colors, blue, purple, and scarlet, are the colors of royalty and the heavens. The fine twisted linen speaks of purity and righteousness. Gold is the metal of divinity and glory. Silver is the metal of redemption. Bronze speaks of judgment. This is not arbitrary interior decorating; it is a catechism in color and texture.

The two curtains described here, the veil and the screen, represent two fundamental truths. First, there is a barrier between God and man. You cannot just wander into the presence of the Almighty. Holiness has a boundary. Second, God Himself has provided the entrance. The way in is through a prescribed, beautiful, and costly door. These curtains are temporary object lessons, pointing forward to the one who would say, "I am the way," and whose body, the ultimate veil, would be torn so that the way into the true Holy of Holies might be opened for all who believe.

Verse by Verse Commentary

35 Moreover, he made the veil of blue and purple and scarlet material and fine twisted linen; he made it with cherubim, the work of a skillful designer.

This is the inner veil, the most significant barrier in the entire Tabernacle. It separated the Holy Place, where the priests ministered daily, from the Most Holy Place, which contained the Ark of the Covenant and where God's presence was localized. Only the High Priest could pass through this veil, and only once a year on the Day of Atonement. The materials are a royal announcement. Blue for the heavens, purple for kingship, and scarlet for blood and sacrifice. The fine twisted linen speaks of the perfect, untarnished righteousness required to stand before God. And woven into this fabric, by a "skillful designer," were cherubim. These are the guardians of holy ground, the very same kind of angelic beings who guarded the way back to Eden (Gen 3:24). Their presence here is a stark warning: the way to the tree of life, to the presence of God, is barred to sinful man. This veil is a beautiful "No Trespassing" sign, erected by God Himself.

36 And he made four pillars of acacia for it and overlaid them with gold, with their hooks of gold; and he cast four bases of silver for them.

The magnificent veil did not hang in the air. It was supported by a structure that continued the sermon. The four pillars were made of acacia wood, a durable wood from the wilderness, speaking of Christ's incorruptible humanity. But they were completely overlaid with gold, manifesting His divinity. Everything the veil touched was gold, the metal of God's glory. But notice the foundation. The pillars stood in four bases of silver. Throughout Exodus, silver is connected to the atonement money, the redemption price paid by every Israelite (Ex 30:11-16). So, the very foundation upon which this barrier stood was redemption. The separation between God and man is established on the basis of atonement. It is a separation that respects the redemption that God requires.

37 And he made a screen for the doorway of the tent, of blue and purple and scarlet material and fine twisted linen, the work of a weaver;

Now we move from the inner sanctum to the front door of the Tabernacle proper. This is the screen that separated the outer court from the Holy Place. The materials are the same as the inner veil: the royal colors and the pure linen. This tells us that the entrance into God's house is also a royal and holy affair. However, there are two key differences. First, there are no cherubim mentioned here. This is an entrance, not an absolute barrier guarded by angels. It is a door for the priests to go in and out of in their daily service. Second, the work is that of a weaver, or embroiderer, not the "skillful designer" of the inner veil. This likely indicates a different, perhaps less complex, technique. The entrance is glorious, but the barrier to the immediate presence of God is of another order of magnitude altogether.

38 and he made its five pillars with their hooks, and he overlaid their tops and their bands with gold; but their five bases were of bronze.

Like the inner veil, this screen hung on pillars of acacia wood overlaid with gold. The glory of God is still on display at the entrance. But here we find the second major difference. The five pillars for this outer screen stood not on bases of silver, but on five bases of bronze. In the Bible, bronze is consistently associated with judgment. The altar of burnt offering, where sin was judged, was made of bronze. This means that the entrance to the house of God is founded upon judgment. To enter into fellowship with God, your sin must first be dealt with. You cannot come in without passing by the place of judgment. The silver bases of the inner veil speak of the redemption that grants access to the holiest place, while the bronze bases of the outer screen speak of the judgment on sin that is necessary to even enter the courtyard of God's house. Both foundations must be secure for true worship to occur.

Application

The modern Christian does not have a tabernacle of acacia wood and gold. We have something far better. The book of Hebrews tells us that this veil was a type, a symbol, of the flesh of Jesus Christ (Heb 10:20). His perfect humanity, a pure linen without sin, robed in the royalty of His divine Sonship, stood as the ultimate barrier between us and the Father. No one could come to the Father except through Him. And when He died on the cross, the gospel of Matthew tells us that the veil in the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom (Matt 27:51). This was no accident. God Himself ripped it open, signifying that the way into the Most Holy Place was now open to all who come through the shed blood of His Son.

We are no longer kept at a distance. We are invited to "draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith" (Heb 10:22). The cherubim have stood down. The way is open. But we must never forget the cost. We enter on the basis of redemption (silver) and because our judgment was taken by another (bronze). We must not treat this access casually. The colors of the veil still remind us that we are approaching the King of Heaven. The fine linen reminds us that we can only come clothed in a righteousness not our own, the perfect righteousness of Christ Himself. This passage, then, is a call to worship with reverence and awe, and with profound gratitude for the torn veil, Jesus Christ our Lord.