The Fear that Blesses: 1 Chronicles 13:9-14
Introduction: The Untamable God
We live in an age that wants a manageable God. We want a God who fits neatly into our worship services, our five-year plans, and our personal spiritual growth trajectories. We want a God who is more of a cosmic butler than a consuming fire. We want a God of blessing, but not a God of terror. We want a God of love, but not a God of holiness. In short, we want a tame lion. But the God of the Bible, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is not a tame lion.
Our text today is one of those passages that modern sensibilities tend to skip over, or explain away with embarrassment. It feels harsh, severe, and perhaps even unjust to our therapeutic age. A man with good intentions reaches out to steady the Ark of God, and for his trouble, he is struck dead. The worship service grinds to a halt, the parade is over, and the king himself is left angry and afraid. This is not the kind of story that makes for a cheerful, upbeat devotional. And that is precisely why we need it.
This event is a bucket of ice water thrown on the face of a sleepy, presumptuous church. It is a divine interruption of man-centered worship. David and all Israel were sincere. They were enthusiastic. They had music, they had dancing, they had a national celebration. They had everything but one thing: obedience to the explicit commands of God. They were trying to do God's work, but they were doing it man's way. They were treating the Ark of the Covenant, the very footstool of Yahweh's throne, like a piece of furniture. And God reminded them, in a terrifying display of His holiness, that He is not to be trifled with. He will not be handled. He will not be managed.
This passage forces us to confront the profound holiness of God, the necessity of approaching Him on His terms, and the critical distinction between a servile, cowering fear and the kind of holy, trembling fear that leads to true blessing. What happened at the threshing floor of Chidon was a tragedy, but it was a necessary tragedy. It was a severe mercy that taught David, and teaches us, that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. And as we will see, it is also the beginning of true, overflowing blessing.
The Text
Then they came to the threshing floor of Chidon. And Uzza reached out with his hand to take hold of the ark, because the oxen nearly upset it. And the anger of Yahweh burned against Uzza, and He struck him down because he reached out with his hand to the ark; and he died there before God. And David became angry because of Yahweh’s breaking out against Uzza; and that place is called Perez-uzza to this day. So David was afraid of God that day, saying, “How can I bring the ark of God back to me?” And David did not move the ark with him to the city of David, but took it aside to the house of Obed-edom the Gittite. Thus the ark of God remained with the household of Obed-edom in his house three months; and Yahweh blessed the household of Obed-edom with all that he had.
(1 Chronicles 13:9-14 LSB)
The Rash Hand and the Righteous Fire (v. 9-10)
We begin with the catastrophic moment at the threshing floor.
"Then they came to the threshing floor of Chidon. And Uzza reached out with his hand to take hold of the ark, because the oxen nearly upset it. And the anger of Yahweh burned against Uzza, and He struck him down because he reached out with his hand to the ark; and he died there before God." (1 Chronicles 13:9-10)
The whole enterprise was flawed from the beginning. David, in his zeal, had neglected to consult the law of God. The Philistines had sent the Ark back on a new cart, and God had tolerated it from pagans. But David, the king of Israel, was held to a higher standard. God had given explicit instructions. The Ark was to be carried by the Levites, using poles inserted through rings on its sides. It was never to be touched (Numbers 4:15). To touch the Ark was to touch the unmediated holiness of God, and for a sinner, that is a fatal act. The cart was a Philistine invention, a pragmatic, man-made solution. But God's presence is not to be managed with our pragmatism.
Uzza's action seems reasonable, even commendable, from a human perspective. The oxen stumbled, the Ark was about to fall, and he acted instinctively to protect it. His motives were likely good. But good intentions are no substitute for obedience. Uzza's fatal mistake was one of presumption. He forgot what the Ark was. He treated the throne of the living God as a common object. His action revealed an underlying lack of holy fear. He thought the dirt of the threshing floor was a greater threat to the Ark than the touch of his own sinful hand. He was tragically mistaken. God is more offended by our presumptuous sin than He is by a little dirt.
And so, the anger of Yahweh burned. This is not a petty, uncontrolled rage. This is the settled, holy opposition of a perfectly righteous God against sin. It is the reaction of absolute holiness to profanity. Uzza was struck down "before God." He died in the very presence of the holiness he had violated. This was a public, terrifying object lesson for all of Israel. God was teaching them that He is the one who defines the terms of worship. He sets the rules for how He is to be approached. Our sincerity, our enthusiasm, our good intentions are all filthy rags if they are not submitted to His revealed Word.
The King's Anger and Fear (v. 11-12)
David's reaction is complex and deeply human. It is a mixture of anger and fear.
"And David became angry because of Yahweh’s breaking out against Uzza; and that place is called Perez-uzza to this day. So David was afraid of God that day, saying, 'How can I bring the ark of God back to me?'" (1 Chronicles 13:11-12 LSB)
First, David became angry. This can be shocking to us. How can a man be angry at God? But it is a very common reaction when our plans are violently disrupted, especially when we thought our plans were good. David's anger was likely rooted in a few things: frustration that his glorious celebration had turned into a funeral, confusion at the severity of God's judgment, and perhaps a dawning conviction of his own culpability. His project, his leadership, had led to a man's death. His anger was the outward expression of a theological crisis. He had a view of God that was too small, too manageable, and that view had just been shattered.
God's judgment had broken out, and David names the place "Perez-uzza," which means "the breaking out against Uzza." He memorializes the event, ensuring the lesson will not be forgotten. And his anger quickly gives way to a more appropriate response: fear. "So David was afraid of God that day." This is not just a general reverence; this is stark terror. He has just seen, firsthand, what the holiness of God can do. He is confronted with a God who is far more dangerous and powerful than he had accounted for.
His question, "How can I bring the ark of God back to me?" reveals the heart of the issue. He realizes he is utterly unqualified to be in the presence of such a God. He understands that he cannot simply waltz into God's presence on his own terms. This fear, this terror, is the first step toward true worship. It is a holy fear that humbles him and drives him back to the Word of God to find out how one can possibly stand before this holy God. The parade is stopped. The music is silenced. And the king is brought to his knees in fearful contemplation. This is a necessary prelude to true blessing.
The Detour of Blessing (v. 13-14)
David's fear leads him to pause his plan. He diverts the Ark to the house of a man named Obed-edom.
"And David did not move the ark with him to the city of David, but took it aside to the house of Obed-edom the Gittite. Thus the ark of God remained with the household of Obed-edom in his house three months; and Yahweh blessed the household of Obed-edom with all that he had." (1 Chronicles 13:13-14 LSB)
David is too afraid to bring this terrifying symbol of God's presence into his own capital city. So he leaves it with Obed-edom, who was a Gittite, likely from Gath-rimmon, a Levitical city. He was a man qualified to be near the Ark. And here we see the other side of God's holiness. The same presence that brought instant death to the presumptuous Uzza brings overflowing blessing to the household of Obed-edom.
For three months, the Ark remains there, and we are told that "Yahweh blessed the household of Obed-edom with all that he had." This is a crucial part of the lesson. The holiness of God is a double-edged sword. It is a consuming fire for those who approach it with presumption and disobedience, but it is a life-giving, all-encompassing blessing for those who receive it on God's terms. The Ark itself did not change. The presence of God did not change. What changed was the nature of the approach. Obed-edom received the Ark, we can assume, with the proper reverence and fear that David now understood was necessary.
The news of this blessing gets back to David (2 Sam. 6:12). This is what resolves David's crisis. He sees that the terrifying holiness of God is also the source of unimaginable blessing. The fear of God is not meant to drive us away from Him permanently, but to drive us to Him rightly. David's fear drove him to his scrolls, where he discovered the proper way to transport the Ark. And in the fifteenth chapter of this book, we see the second attempt, done God's way, with Levites carrying the Ark on their shoulders. And that procession is filled with not only fear, but also with exuberant joy and sacrifice. The lesson has been learned. The fear that began in terror has matured into the joyful reverence that receives blessing.
The Ark, the Cross, and the Blessing
This entire account is a profound illustration of the gospel. The Ark of the Covenant, where God's presence dwelt between the cherubim above the mercy seat, was a foreshadowing of the Lord Jesus Christ. In Him, all the fullness of the Godhead dwells bodily (Colossians 2:9). He is the place where God's holiness and man's sin meet.
Like Uzza, we are all tempted to approach God on our own terms. We think our good intentions, our moral efforts, our religious sincerity can somehow steady our relationship with a holy God. But to touch the holiness of God with our own sinful hands is death. We cannot save ourselves. Our best efforts are a presumptuous violation. The law reveals this. It shows us the uncrossable gulf between our sin and God's righteousness and says, "Do not touch."
But God, in His mercy, did for us what we could not do. He sent His own Son, Jesus, who is both the Ark, the very presence of God, and also the High Priest, the one qualified to handle that holiness. On the cross, the full force of God's righteous anger against sin, the fire that consumed Uzza, was poured out upon Jesus. He endured the "breaking out" of God's wrath so that we would not have to. He is our Perez-uzza.
Because of Christ's work, the terrifying presence of God is now the source of all our blessing. When we come to God through faith in Jesus, we are not struck down. We are welcomed. We are blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places (Ephesians 1:3). We become like the house of Obed-edom, a people in whose midst the presence of God dwells, not for terror, but for blessing, for life, and for joy.
Therefore, let us learn the lesson of David. Let us cast away all our presumptuous, man-centered attempts to approach God. Let us come to Him with a holy fear, a fear that recognizes His awesome holiness and our own sinfulness. But let that fear not drive us to despair, but rather drive us to the cross of Jesus Christ. For it is only there, at the true Mercy Seat, that the consuming fire of God's holiness becomes the warm, life-giving blessing of a Father's love.