The Priest We Need – Exodus 39

Inside the tabernacle,
a meeting place—God and humanity,
a sacred tent where heaven touched earth.
We marvel at the golden threads,
the purple robes, the gleaming stones,
but do we think of the ones who stood within,
those set apart to stand before the Lord?

The priest, clothed in dignity and honour,
bells ringing softly,
a living rhythm in a holy place.
Their garments marked them as holy,
long robes, even longer prayers,
standing in the gap we could not cross.

The altar was a bloody place,
lambs and bulls brought low,
their lives for our lives,
sins transferred in trembling faith.
Hands pressed upon the sacrifice,
a substitute for what we could not pay.

The priest bore our names,
engraved upon shoulders,
nestled in the breastplate over the heart—
an ambassador in gold and linen,
ascending where we could not.
Through him, we reached the throne.

But it was only a shadow,
a whisper of what was to come.

Now the better priest stands,
not with the blood of goats,
but with his own blood poured out.
Jesus, holy, blameless, pure,
his righteousness perfect,
his sacrifice final.

When he ascended,
our names were still written there,
not in fragile gold,
but in the scars upon his hands.

Imagine the throne room—
your name upon the King’s heart,
your face remembered
in the presence of glory.

This priest will never leave,
his life eternal,
his work complete.
In him, the gap is bridged,
and we draw near,
no bells needed to know
that life is within.

Original message by Andrew West, The Bridge Church Macquarie Park NSW