And the charge of the sons of Merari consisted in the oversight of the boards of the tabernacle, and its bars, and its pillars, and its bases, and all its furniture, and all that belongs to its service,
God gives Merari's family the heavy, structural part of the tabernacle: the frames, bars, pillars and bases that hold the whole tent up. Every item on that list pictures something. So the writers ask what this plain, heavy work says about the workers God chooses. (Older translations, which they quote, call these the "boards," "sockets," "pins" and "cords.")
This work belongs to Merari and to nobody else. One writer shows how the jobs never overlapped, yet each one needed the others:
All this was clear and distinct. Gershon had nothing to do with the boards and pins, and Merari had nothing to do with the curtains or the coverings. Yet they were closely connected, for each depended on the other. "The boards and sockets" would not do without "the curtains," and the curtains would not do without the boards and sockets. And what about "the pins"? They look so unimportant. Yet who could measure their value in holding things together and keeping the whole visibly one?
Each frame stood upright in bases of silver. One writer reads the materials as a picture of believers:
The boards of the tabernacle speak of the basic facts of what believers are "in Christ," and of their union in one building, the Church of God. They were made of acacia wood overlaid with gold, standing upright on bases of silver. That is, believers are upheld on the basis of redemption, covered with Christ (the gold), and joined together with bars of the same materials. … So Merari's work stands for the ministry that unites believers to Christ and to one another, and that ministry rests on the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Such ministry matters greatly in our own day.
The bars ran through golden rings to lock the separate frames into one wall. A second writer draws out what the ring adds:
The bars of acacia wood, covered with the same gold and fitted into golden rings on the boards, speak of special gifts given to hold everything in place. But those gifts need a matching openness in each believer before they can be used: the "bar" was of no use without the "ring."
Merari also cared for the pillars around the courtyard, with the pegs and ropes that held them steady. One writer reads them as a picture of public witness:
The pillars of the court rest on bronze bases, and their tops are covered with silver, while the fine linen curtains hang from them on silver hooks. So grace enables us to hold up the character of Christ before the world, and divine strength is what we rest on while we do it. The pins and cords come in as well, bracing everything against opposing forces that are too strong for us on our own.
A tent peg is the smallest thing on Merari's list. Yet the writers refuse to rank the items by size:
In the whole world there was nothing to compare with that boarded tent and all its symbolic furnishings. It was a holy dignity and privilege to touch the smallest pin of that wonderful tabernacle in the wilderness. It was far more glorious to be a Merarite looking after the pins of the tabernacle than to sit on the throne of Egypt or Assyria.
Merari means "bitterness" or "sorrow." Both writers tie the name to the work itself. One pictures the contrast between what Merari carried and where he set it up:
Could anything be more unlike than silver and barren sand? But Merari must not shrink back from all this. No — when he reached a spot in the desert where the cloud stopped, he said, "I have come to set up the patterns of things in heaven right in the middle of all the desolation and misery of the wilderness around." All this was very hard work. No doubt it gave Merari's character a tone of sadness or sorrow, and his very name expressed it, for it means "sorrow."
The other writer says why this work is rare, and what it asks of the worker:
His name — Merari, "bitterness" — speaks of the painful character of such service. Self-love breaks down under it, or runs off into some odd path that is easier on flesh and blood… Who cares for these boards and bars, and pillars and pins and cords? Who thinks of God's plan and pattern, and all the small details He has appointed?… It leaves no room for human invention to show itself. It calls only for plodding accuracy and diligent obedience.
- Redemption holds. Each frame stood upright in bases of silver: believers are "upheld on the basis of redemption."
- Gold holds. The wood was overlaid with gold: those same believers are "covered with Christ."
- Bars hold. Gifts lock the separate frames into one building, but a bar needs a ring — the gift needs a readiness to receive it.
- Pins hold. The smallest peg braces the whole against forces too strong for us alone. To touch it was a greater dignity than a throne.
- Sorrow is the cost of holding. Merari's name means bitterness. Setting up silver in barren sand gives self-love nothing. It calls only for "plodding accuracy and diligent obedience."
and the pillars of the court round about, and their bases, and their pegs, and their cords.
This verse ends the list of what Merari's family carried — no golden vessels, no curtains, just the fence around the court and the hardware that held it up. Why would God name tent pegs and ropes at all, and why give one family that work for life?
The tabernacle was God's tent at the centre of Israel's camp, and the Levites were the tribe who carried it. Merari's share was all structure: frames, bars, pillars, bases, pegs, cords. One writer sees a picture of the church in that framework.
Merari had charge with his sons of the boards, the sockets, pins and cords. These held the building together... The framework of the tabernacle joins the boards with bars of acacia wood. It is a picture of the building we read about in Ephesians — "the whole structure, being joined together" — the church. The work of Merari suggests the thought of union.
The court was the outer fence around God's tent, and the bases are the sockets its pillars stood in. Pegs in the ground held the cords that steadied them. One writer reads each material here as a picture of the Christian life.
The pillars of the court stand on copper sockets and carry silver tops. The fine linen curtains hang from them by silver hooks. So grace enables us to hold up before the world the character of Christ, and divine strength is what we rest on while we do it. The pins and cords come in further to brace it all against opposing forces that are too much for our unaided strength.
Commentators differ on who the pillars stand for. Another writer sees Christ in them.
The pillars of the court were made of copper and rested on copper sockets. They speak of Christ as the One who holds His people up. The hooks that held up the curtains were silver, the picture of redemption. So in holding His people up, He also unites them together. Merari's work therefore highlights the ministry that unites believers to Christ and to one another, resting on the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.
Merari's job began the moment the camp stopped. He had to set up God's dwelling on open desert ground. One writer applies that to anyone who takes a stand for Christ in the world.
Let anyone take his stand firmly in the world for Christ. Let him go into the places where "the world" is seen in its full force. Let him set himself, firm as a rock, against the deep and rapid tide of worldliness, and there let him begin to set up "the sockets of silver." Be sure of it: he will find such a course brings very much sorrow and bitterness of soul. He will find it a path where the cross is to be taken up "daily," and not only taken up, but carried... There are very few of the hard-working Merarite character to be found. Why is this? Simply because showing such a character will always cost nature very much labour and sorrow, and nature loves ease. So human nature never could be a Merarite. Nothing will make us true Merarites but deep communion with Him who was the Man of Sorrows.
A peg is the least impressive object in the whole list. What raises it is not the peg but what it belongs to.
Doing what we are told always has moral worth. But there was also a special dignity in the work of a Merarite, even though that work was only looking after a few "pins" or "sockets." Everything connected with the tabernacle was of the deepest interest and highest value... To touch the smallest pin of that wonderful tent in the wilderness was a holy dignity and privilege. It was far more glorious to be a Merarite looking after the pins than to hold the sceptre of Egypt or Assyria.
No Levite picked his own load. God handed each family its task.
Nothing is more important in practice than that each servant of God should know the work He has given him to do. And when he knows it, he should stick to it. Be sure of this too: it is of no small importance never to interfere with another's service. The Lord is sovereign in this. He divides according to His own will.
It is tempting to admire the sacred vessels and the curtains and write off the thankless part of the work. One writer imagines letting Merari's family go and keeping the other two.
Why not let this sad-faced Merarite go, with his pins and cords of the tabernacle always getting tangled, and be content with Kohath and Gershon? But if the Lord's tabernacle is to be set up in the wilderness, we must have the pins and cords.
- Union. Merari's frames, bars, pegs and cords held the building together — a picture of the church joined into one.
- Bracing. The pegs and cords existed to steady the pillars against forces stronger than they were on their own.
- Cost. Setting up God's dwelling out in the world is sorrowful, daily, cross-carrying work. That is why so few take it up.
- Dignity. The smallest peg belonged to God's own tent. Handling it outranked holding the sceptre of Egypt.
- Assignment. No Levite chose his load; know the work given you, stick to it, and never interfere with another's.