Sacred Responsibilities

It’s funny how God has a way of revealing Himself, even in the passages we are most tempted to skim.

This year, I am working my way through The Bible Recap by Tara-Leigh Cobble. Currently, I am in Numbers, and most mornings I have to pray that the Lord will give me patience and perseverance as I read through these complex passages involving census lists, responsibilities, travel instructions, and legal material. I much prefer characters, conflict, and resolution, which this book offers very little of.

Yet, there has not been a day when God has failed to reveal Himself and His character to me.

What has become increasingly clear to me through these challenging books – like Leviticus and Numbers – is that our God cares deeply about order, boundaries, responsibilities, and the protection of His people, even in the smallest details.

In Numbers 3, God sets the tribe of Levi apart to serve Him in place of the firstborn of Israel and reinforces that they belong to Him in a special, covenantal way by repeatedly affirming, “They shall be mine.”

Although the Levites were significantly smaller than the other tribes, God entrusted them with the most sacred responsibilities in Israel’s worship.

On day 55 of the Bible Recap book, Tara-Leigh Cobble states, “In many cultures, minorities are disregarded, but here God gives them a position of incredible honor, putting them in close proximity to Himself, appointing them to guard His tabernacle, and serve as mediators between Him and His people.”

The other eleven tribes were chosen by God for critical roles involving war, settlement, and daily life, but Numbers reveals that Levi’s calling required exceptional trust and utmost obedience.

Numbers 4 details the specific responsibilities given to each Levitical family during the Israelites’ travels, emphasizes their careful handling of the holy objects, and sets age limits (30-50) for active service.

The Gershonites were responsible for caring for and transporting the curtains, coverings, and fabric-related elements of the Tabernacle.
The Merarites were assigned the assembling and transporting of the structural elements like poles, pillars, frames, bases, and tent pegs.
The Kohathites were given the most important role of all: guarding and transporting the holy furnishings, such as the Ark of the Covenant, the table, the lampstand, and the altars. God gave them precise instructions for this work. They could only carry holy objects after the priests had covered them, and they were never permitted to touch them directly. To do so would result in death. No one else was allowed to carry these sacred items, and one careless mistake could have devastating consequences.

As I read these particular chapters one morning last week, it struck me that God’s standards were high, not to burden the Kohathites, but to protect them while they carried what was holy. I also realized that when God entrusts us with a sacred responsibility, He provides clear boundaries and careful instructions, and then watches over us as the responsibility given shapes the one carrying it.

This insight unexpectedly pulled my mind out of the wilderness and into our Christmas service at church a few weeks back.

Leading up to this special service, I had sincerely prayed that the Lord would work a miracle and cause my small children to be abnormally still and that He would also shut their mouths like He shut the mouths of lions surrounding Daniel, so that we could peacefully remain in the sanctuary. My two-year-old’s attention span is exactly what one would expect of a typical two-year-old. My five-year-old (affectionately nicknamed, Pocket) is the living embodiment of the 1993 Dennis the Menace - absolutely cute as a button, compassionate and overly helpful at times, full of wit and personality, but wildly energetic and impulsive due to ADHD.

Though he has improved greatly, most Sundays we stay in the service as long as we can, but eventually have to slip out to the nursery (in a not-so-subtle way) due to a sudden, ferocious dinosaur roar; a gummy being spontaneously catapulted several rows ahead; rhetorical questions being answered confidently aloud; attempted escapes under the pew; or skirmishes with siblings.

Thankfully, the Lord heard my prayer that particular Sunday, and we made it all the way through the service with no major attention drawn to ourselves. At the end of the service, our music director and my husband, who is our preacher, led us through a special candlelight service.

As we prepared to walk to the front and take a candle, I began to sweat. I was unsure of whether my teenage sons would be close by to help me with the three little kids and open flames. Knowing Pocket’s inability to be still and his curiosity with fire, I quickly sent him in front of me with his grandfather and said, “Stay with Papaw Charlie. Hold his hand and share his candle. Do exactly what he says.”

In our precious country church, we each take a candle, my husband lights it, and we solemnly wind around the sanctuary until all candles are lit. Then we sing "Silent Night" to conclude the service.

As we lit our candles and began quietly following those in front of us around the sanctuary, my eye caught Pocket – standing well out of my reach with his grandparents, a lit candle in hand, and a smile stretched across his face.

One of my teenagers eased close to me and whispered, “Mama, what will we do if he burns the church down?”

My eyes widened at the man who lovingly chose to take me in as his own nearly 20 years ago. Fully prepared for my apprehension, he calmly placed his hand on Pocket’s shoulder and gave me a look that told me everything was under control.

What the rest of us saw as a liability, Pocket’s wise grandfather saw as an opportunity.

Then, from a distance, I watched the smallest boy in the church – entrusted with something sacred by the man who is a giant in his life – hold his candle with absolute care and respect. His eyes never left his flame and, surprisingly, his other hand never even tried to touch it. His body was perfectly still. He stood tall like an honorable soldier with a job to do. He did not feel burdened or afraid under the weight of the task, because his protector was with him.

Being trusted changed his behavior.

That sweet moment between Pocket and Papaw Charlie illustrated to me what Numbers 3 and 4 had been teaching: when responsibility is given wisely, boundaries are clear, supervision is present, trust is intentional, and the heart is willing, even the smallest among us can carry the light faithfully.

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