The King's Traveling Table Text: Exodus 37:10-16
Introduction: God in the Details
We live in an age that despises particulars. We want the executive summary, the bullet points, the tweetable version. We have cultivated an allergy to detail, especially in our religion. We want a God of broad, sentimental strokes, a God who is "spiritual" but not particular. We want relationship without requirements, communion without commands. And so, when we come to passages like this one in Exodus, our eyes tend to glaze over. Cubits, handbreadths, acacia wood, gold moldings, rings, and poles. It can feel like reading divine assembly instructions, and we are tempted to skip ahead to the more "exciting" parts of the story.
But to do so is to make a catastrophic mistake. It is to misunderstand the very nature of the God we worship. Our God is not a God of vague generalities; He is a God of glorious, intricate, and meaningful detail. The fact that He cares about the precise dimensions of a table and the placement of its rings tells us that He cares about order, beauty, and holiness. He is not a sloppy God. The universe He spoke into existence is not a chaotic jumble; it is a cosmos, an ordered and beautiful reality governed by His precise laws. And the worship He requires is not a formless, sentimental free-for-all; it is a structured, covenantal conversation, governed by His Word.
This passage describes the construction of the Table of Showbread, or more literally, the Table of the Presence. This was not merely a decorative piece of furniture. It was a central piece of liturgical equipment that preached a profound, ongoing sermon in wood and gold. It spoke of God's provision, His fellowship, His kingship, and His presence with His people. In the barren wilderness, where every meal was a miracle, God commanded that a table be set in His own house, perpetually laden with bread. This was a tangible promise, a foretaste of the promised land, and a shadow of a much greater table to come.
As we walk through these details, we must ask the Spirit to give us eyes to see. We are not just studying ancient carpentry. We are studying a divinely-designed object lesson about the person and work of Jesus Christ, and what it means to have fellowship with the living God.
The Text
Then he made the table of acacia wood, two cubits long and a cubit wide and one and a half cubits high. He overlaid it with pure gold and made a gold molding for it all around. He made a rim for it of a handbreadth all around and made a gold molding for its rim all around. He cast four gold rings for it and put the rings on the four corners that were on its four feet. Close to the rim were the rings, the holders for the poles to carry the table. He made the poles of acacia wood and overlaid them with gold, to carry the table. He made the utensils which were on the table, its dishes and its pans and its offering bowls and its jars, with which to pour out drink offerings, of pure gold.
(Exodus 37:10-16 LSB)
The God-Man's Table (v. 10-11)
The construction begins with the essential nature and structure of the table.
"Then he made the table of acacia wood, two cubits long and a cubit wide and one and a half cubits high. He overlaid it with pure gold and made a gold molding for it all around." (Exodus 37:10-11)
Here we see the foundational metaphor that runs through all the tabernacle furniture: the union of acacia wood and pure gold. The acacia is a desert wood. It is tough, gnarled, and resilient, a fitting symbol of humanity, and particularly the humanity of Christ, who was a "root out of dry ground" (Isaiah 53:2). He came from the stuff of earth. But this wood is completely overlaid with pure gold. Gold, in Scripture, consistently represents that which is divine, pure, and glorious. This table is a picture of the hypostatic union. It is a portrait of Jesus Christ, the God-man. His true, incorruptible humanity (the wood) is inseparable from His glorious deity (the gold). This is the one who hosts the feast. Fellowship with God is only possible through the mediator who is both God and man.
The dimensions are specific. This is a real, tangible object, not an abstract idea. It is approachable, roughly the size of a small modern table. This is not a distant, inaccessible altar. It is a table, a place of intimacy, conversation, and shared life. God is inviting His people to draw near, to sit and eat with Him.
And notice the "gold molding," which is better understood as a crown. This is a royal table. We are not being invited to a casual get-together. We are being summoned to the court of the King of the universe. The fellowship offered is a royal fellowship. To be invited to this table is the highest of honors, and it demands our reverence. We come to the King's table, on the King's terms, to receive the King's provision.
A Secure Fellowship (v. 12)
Next, a curious detail is added to the structure, a rim with its own crown.
"He made a rim for it of a handbreadth all around and made a gold molding for its rim all around." (Exodus 37:12 LSB)
A rim, or a border, was a practical feature. It would keep the twelve loaves of showbread from falling off as the table was transported through the wilderness. But the practical is always theological. This rim speaks of the security of God's provision and the security of His people. The bread on the table represented the twelve tribes of Israel, present before the Lord. This border declared that God would preserve His people. He who invites us to His table ensures that we remain at His table. Jesus said of His sheep, "I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:28). The golden rim is a picture of God's powerful, preserving grace. He holds His own securely.
The measurement is a "handbreadth," a very human and personal scale. God's preserving power is not an abstract force; it is the hand of a Father holding His children. And this rim also has a golden crown. The security of the saints is a royal decree, an act of the King's sovereign will. Our assurance does not rest in our ability to cling to the table, but in His royal power to hold us there.
A Portable Presence (v. 13-15)
The design then accounts for the fact that Israel was a nation on the move.
"He cast four gold rings for it and put the rings on the four corners that were on its four feet. Close to the rim were the rings, the holders for the poles to carry the table. He made the poles of acacia wood and overlaid them with gold, to carry the table." (Exodus 37:13-15 LSB)
The table was not stationary. It was designed to be carried. This is a profound point. The God of Israel is not a territorial deity, confined to a particular mountain or shrine like the gods of the pagans. He is the living God who journeys with His people. His presence, His provision, His fellowship, were not left behind when they broke camp. He tabernacled among them in their wanderings.
This points directly to the incarnation. John tells us that the Word became flesh and "dwelt," or literally "tabernacled," among us (John 1:14). Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. He is the portable presence of God, who came down from heaven and walked with men. He is the feast that has come to us.
The poles, like the table, were made of acacia wood overlaid with gold. The God-man is the means by which the fellowship of God is carried throughout the world. And now, under the New Covenant, the church is tasked with carrying these poles. The Great Commission is our mandate to take this message, this invitation to the King's table, to all nations. The feast is mobile. The gospel is for the highways and byways. We are to go out and compel them to come in, for the table is ready.
Holy Service (v. 16)
Finally, the passage describes the tableware, the utensils for serving at this table.
"He made the utensils which were on the table, its dishes and its pans and its offering bowls and its jars, with which to pour out drink offerings, of pure gold." (Exodus 37:16 LSB)
Every single item used in the service of this table was to be made of pure gold. The dishes for the bread, the pans for the frankincense that was placed on the bread, the jars and bowls for the drink offerings of wine, all of it was pure gold. This communicates a simple, severe truth: everything about our approach to God must be characterized by holiness and divine purity. We cannot come to God's holy table with the cheap, defiled utensils of our own self-righteousness or worldly worship.
We must come on His terms, using the instruments He provides. And what He provides is the "pure gold" of the finished work of Christ. His righteousness is the plate on which we are presented. His intercession is the incense that makes our worship acceptable. His blood is the wine of the New Covenant, the drink offering poured out for the forgiveness of our sins.
The service at this table requires what only God can provide. The bread, the wine, the table, and the plates are all from Him. Our only contribution is our empty hands and our hungry hearts. We come to receive, not to achieve. All of it is of pure gold, all of it is of God, all of it is by grace.
From a Wilderness Table to a Wedding Feast
This table, carried through the desert, was a shadow and a promise. It was a constant reminder to a wandering people that their God was with them and that He was a God who provides. But the bread on that table could not give eternal life. It had to be replaced every Sabbath. It was a shadow of the true bread.
Jesus stood up and declared, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst" (John 6:35). He is the substance. The Table of Showbread finds its fulfillment in the Lord's Table. When we gather for communion, we are participating in the reality to which this golden table pointed. We are feasting on Christ by faith. We are remembering His body broken and His blood shed. We are having fellowship with the Father, through the Son, by the Spirit.
And even this is a foretaste. The portable table in the wilderness promised a permanent table in the promised land. The Lord's Supper in this present age promises a future, final feast. It points us forward to the great marriage supper of the Lamb, when we will sit down in the New Jerusalem at a table that will never be packed up again. We will see the King face to face, and we will feast in His house forever.
Therefore, let us approach God with the reverence and awe that His holy table demands. Let us see in its every detail the glory of Christ. Let us rejoice in the security of His preserving grace. And let us take up the poles and carry the invitation to this glorious feast to the ends of the earth, until the King returns and calls us all to sit down at the great and final table.