Commentary - Exodus 38:1-7

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Exodus, we are moving from the initial divine instructions for the Tabernacle to the actual construction of it. This is not mere repetition. God gives the pattern on the mountain, and then His people, filled with His Spirit, faithfully execute that pattern on the ground. This chapter details the crafting of the key furniture for the outer court, beginning with the most crucial piece, the altar of burnt offering. This is the first thing an Israelite would encounter when approaching God's dwelling place. Before you can enter into fellowship, you must deal with sin. This altar is God's provision for that, a place of blood and fire, judgment and substitution. It stands as a stark, bronze reminder that the only way to God is through a substitutionary sacrifice. Everything else in the tabernacle, all the gold and fine linen, is inaccessible without first passing this place of death.

The construction here is carried out by Bezalel, a man explicitly filled with the Spirit of God for this task. This is sanctified craftsmanship, holy work. The details matter because they are God's details. The specific materials, the dimensions, the utensils, all of it is a vocabulary God is using to teach His people about Himself, about sin, and about the coming Redeemer. The altar is made of wood overlaid with bronze, a picture of humanity and judgment. It is portable, meant to travel with the people through the wilderness. And it is the centerpiece of the court, the place where heaven and earth meet in a fiery transaction. This is where the central business of worship happens: atonement.

Outline

Context In Exodus

We are in the final section of Exodus, where the instructions given to Moses in chapters 25-31 are now being carried out in chapters 35-40. There was a significant and tragic interruption between the giving of the plans and their execution, that being the golden calf incident in chapter 32. Israel proved, in the most dramatic fashion possible, why the altar of burnt offering was so necessary. They are a stiff-necked people, prone to idolatry, and unable to keep covenant on their own terms. Their sin necessitated a bloody provision. So, after the covenant is renewed in chapter 34, the people respond with lavish generosity in chapter 35, and the work commences in chapter 36. This chapter, 38, continues that work, focusing on the bronze altar and the outer court. The placement is significant. The narrative is showing us that God's presence requires a solution to man's sin, and that solution is found right at the entrance, at the place of sacrifice.

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 1 Then he made the altar of burnt offering of acacia wood, five cubits long, and five cubits wide, square, and three cubits high.

The work begins with "he," referring to Bezalel, the Spirit-filled artisan. This is not his own design; he is faithfully executing the divine blueprint. The first object made for the courtyard is the altar, because atonement is the first order of business. It is made of acacia wood, a common desert wood, yet durable. This points to the humanity of the ultimate sacrifice, Jesus Christ. He was a man, found in the wilderness of this world. But this humanity is overlaid with bronze. Bronze in Scripture consistently symbolizes judgment. Think of the bronze serpent in the wilderness. So here we have humanity, represented by the wood, enclosed in divine judgment, the bronze. This is the very picture of Christ on the cross, who was made sin for us and bore the full fire of God's wrath. The dimensions are precise. Five cubits by five cubits, a perfect square. This speaks of divine order and equity. God's justice is not arbitrary; it is perfect and balanced. The number five often relates to grace or atonement. Its height, three cubits, points us toward the divine, the Trinity. This is a divine provision, from top to bottom.

v. 2 He made its horns on its four corners, its horns being of one piece with it, and he overlaid it with bronze.

The horns are not decorative. In the ancient world, horns were a symbol of power and strength. The sacrifice was bound to these horns, signifying the power of the altar to hold the substitute in the place of the sinner. The blood of the sacrifice was then smeared on these horns, signifying that the power of this altar was in the shed blood. These horns also served as a place of refuge. A man fleeing for his life could grab hold of the horns of the altar and claim sanctuary. But this refuge was only for unintentional sins; it was not a get-out-of-jail-free card for high-handed rebellion. This all points to Christ, who is our power for salvation and our only true refuge. Notice the horns were "of one piece with it." The power and the refuge are not add-ons; they are integral to the very nature of the altar. The power of atonement is inseparable from the person of Christ. And again, the whole thing, horns and all, is covered in the bronze of judgment.

v. 3 He made all the utensils of the altar, the pots and the shovels and the bowls, the flesh hooks and the firepans; he made all its utensils of bronze.

Worship is not a sloppy affair. It requires specific tools for a specific job. God cares about the details. There were pots for the ashes, shovels to clear them, bowls for the blood, flesh hooks to handle the sacrifice, and firepans for the coals. Every action was prescribed. This teaches us that we do not approach God on our own terms, with our own invented methods. We come His way, using His tools. And all these utensils were made of bronze. Every instrument that touched the sacrifice or its results was an instrument of judgment. The entire process, from start to finish, is saturated with the reality of God's holy wrath against sin. There is no part of the atoning work that is not serious, severe, and substitutionary.

v. 4 He made for the altar a grating of a network of bronze beneath, under its ledge, reaching halfway down.

The sacrifice was not placed on a solid surface, but on a bronze grating. This allowed the fire to consume the offering from below as well as from above. It was a total conflagration. The ashes would then fall through the grating to be collected below. This is a picture of the thoroughness of God's judgment on our substitute. Nothing was held back. The fire of God's holiness consumed the sacrifice entirely. The fact that it was a "network" of bronze also suggests the intricate and inescapable nature of divine judgment. Sin is caught in this net, and the substitute is held there until the price is fully paid. It reached halfway down, indicating that the sacrifice was held up in the very heart of the fire.

v. 5 He cast four rings on the four ends of the bronze grating as holders for the poles.

These rings were attached to the grating itself, not just the outer frame. This means that the entire inner workings of the altar, the very place of the fire, was designed to be portable. God's provision for sin was not to be left behind. It was to travel with His people on their entire journey through the wilderness. This is a wonderful picture of the gospel. The forgiveness we have in Christ is not a one-time event we look back on at the beginning of our Christian life. The cross travels with us. We need its cleansing power every single day of our pilgrimage.

v. 6 He made the poles of acacia wood and overlaid them with bronze.

Here we see the same pattern as the altar itself. The poles, which would be handled by the Levites, were made of wood and bronze. Humanity (wood) was the means by which the message of judgment and atonement (bronze) was to be carried. This is a picture of the church's mission. We are the ones tasked with carrying the message of the cross, this altar of judgment and grace, to the world. We are just acacia wood, but we have been commissioned to bear the weighty reality of the bronze altar.

v. 7 He inserted the poles into the rings on the sides of the altar, with which to carry it. He made it hollow with planks.

The altar was ready for transport. The means of atonement was mobile, always with the people. The final detail is telling: "He made it hollow with planks." This was not a solid block of wood and bronze. It was a framework. On the one hand, this made it light enough to be carried. On the other, it speaks a profound theological truth. This earthly altar was a shell, a container. It was hollow because it was waiting to be filled. It was filled daily with fire and sacrifice, but this pointed to the reality that the altar itself was not the substance. The substance was Christ. This hollow altar was a placeholder, a signpost pointing to the true, final, and ultimate sacrifice who would one day come and fill up all that this altar represented. The Old Testament altar was hollow; the cross of Jesus Christ is solid reality.

Application

The bronze altar stood at the entrance of the tabernacle, and it teaches us that the beginning of all true worship is a confrontation with our sin and God's holy judgment against it. We cannot waltz into God's presence. We must come by way of the cross. The fire that consumed the animal sacrifice is the same fire of wrath that was poured out on Jesus Christ. Because He was consumed, we can be accepted.

This altar was a place of blood. It was messy, violent, and costly. We must never sanitize the gospel. Forgiveness is not cheap. It cost the life of God's own Son. The utensils, the grating, the horns, all of it speaks of the terrible price of sin. We should approach God with sobriety, gratitude, and a deep awareness of what it took to purchase our salvation.

Finally, the altar was portable. The cross is not just for our conversion; it is for our entire Christian life. We are to take up our cross daily. The realities of substitutionary atonement are what fuel our journey through the wilderness of this life. We never graduate from our need for the bronze altar. It is our only hope, our only refuge, and the only ground on which we can stand before a holy God.