Numbers 7

Actually,… you aren’t imagining it.  This paragraph is repeated 12 times.   There’s only one thing that changes every time…
Who tells a story like this?   Why repeat the same thing so many times?   By the 6th time through I was ready to pull my hair out.
So I started muttering to the Lord about it.  That’s what I do, I mutter.   I’m a mutterer.
 
I was muttering my way toward the coffee pot, wondering what I could possibly blog about in this boring, almost pointless chapter.   I mean, really.  They could have recorded almost this whole account with the 5 sentence summary at the end.   Which begs the question:  “Why didn’t they”?
I mean: why go into this detail?  can it be explained away as a literary style or technique?   Or, because this is the Bible, and everything has layers of meaning and importance…is there something more?
 
It occurred to me on my way back from the coffee pot that God was interested in each person’s gift individually.   He didn’t lump them together, looking to move on quickly (like I was).  He was pleased to see the exact same thing day after day…because someone new was offering it.   I was caught up in the items being sacrificed…but I think God was more interested in WHO was sacrificing.   One by one the tribes of Israel were presenting themselves before the Lord.  12 is a holy number in scripture.   12 gates into heaven, 12 foundations to the heavenly city..   I think that God rejoiced in a new fresh way every single morning as the sacrifice was offered before Him.  Because to Him, it was new.   A new tribe, a new person, a new commitment.   
 
I gather from today’s reading that God is interested in our gifts presented before Him.   He isn’t looking “down the row” to see who else might also be giving, or what the whole group has to offer…He’s intimately involved in my act of sacrifice as I make it.   God sees ME.
 
That being the case, I am thankful that this passage was recorded 12 times.   I went back up through the chapter, reading each name individually, and then I went back down the chapter, reading the name of each tribe.   As I did, I realized that I had missed the significance of this whole passage….I had missed the people.   I could quote what each person had brought, and what it weighed….but I didn’t know who brought it, or who they represented.   I had missed it.
 
So my prayer this morning is “Lord, help me not to miss it.  I don’t want to be so caught up in the obvious that I miss the significant.”
 
This may be the first time muttering and looking for coffee have paid off.
 
Faithfully,
 
PR