Summary: There are two important reasons Christians should attend church regularly. I want to share these two reasons as they relate to the temptation before the Second Coming. Why should we attend God’s House?
James O. Davis is the founder and president of Second Billion (TM). You are invited to learn more about Second Billion by visiting www.billion.tv.
Have you ever heard someone say they do not have to go to church to be a Christian? There are those who used to regularly attend church, but now recklessly avoid church. There are many who attend church only three times in their life: When they are born, married and buried. You could say they come to church when they were hatched, matched and dispatched. The first time water is used, the second time rice is tossed, and the third time dirt is thrown.
Church attendance is vital to the spirituality of the believer. There are two important reasons Christians should attend church regularly. I want to share these two reasons as they relate to the temptation before the Second Coming. Why should we attend God’s House?
FIRST, BECAUSE THERE IS A GODLY RELATIONSHIP
To picture what this means, imagine a Moabite of old gazing down upon the tents and the Tabernacle of Israel from some lofty mountain height. Attracted by what he sees, he descends to the plain and makes his way toward the sacred enclosure surrounding the Tabernacle. It is a high wall of dazzling linen which reaches over his head. He walks around until he comes to the gate where he sees a man. “May I go in there?” he asks, pointing through the gate to where the bustle of activity in the outer court can be seen.
“Who are you?” demands the man suspiciously. Any Israelite would know he could not go in there.
“I’m a man from Moab,” the stranger replies.
“Well,” says the man at the gate, “I’m very sorry, but you cannot go in there. It’s not for you. The Law of Moses has barred the Moabite from any part in the worship of Israel until his tenth generation.”
The Moabite looks very sad. “What would I have to do to go in there?” he insists.
“You would have to be born again,” replies the gatekeeper. “You would have to be born an Israelite. You would need to be born of the tribe of Judah perhaps, or the tribe of Benjamin or Dan.”
The Moabite responds, “I wish I had been born an Israelite of one of the tribes of Israel.” As he looks more closely he sees one of the priests who has offered a sacrifice at the brazen altar and is cleansing himself at the brazen laver.
Looking in toward the Tabernacle, the Moabite asks, “What is in there, inside the main building, I mean?”
“Oh,” says the gatekeeper, “that’s the Tabernacle itself. Inside there is a room containing a lamp stand, a table and an altar of gold. The man you saw is the priest. He will trim the lamp, eat of the bread upon the table, and burn incense to the Living God upon the golden altar.”
“Ahhh,” sighs the man of Moab, “I wish I were an Israelite so that I could do that. I should love to worship God in that Holy Place and help to trim the lamp, to offer Him some incense, and to eat at the table.”
“Oh no,” says the man at the gate, “Even I cannot do that. To worship in the Holy Place one must not only be born an Israelite, one must be born of the tribe of Levi, of the family of Aaron.”
The man from Moab sighs again, “I wish I had been born of Israel and of the tribe of Levi and of the family of Aaron.” Gazing wistfully at the closed Tabernacle door he asked, “What else is in there?”
“There’s a veil,” replies the informant. “It’s a beautiful veil, I am told, that divides the Tabernacle into two rooms. Beyond the veil is what we call the Most Holy Place—the Holy of Holies.”
Now the Moabite is more interested than ever. “What is in the Holy of Holies?”
“There’s a sacred chest in there called the Ark of the Covenant,” answers the gatekeeper. “It contains certain holy memorials of our past. Its top is made of gold and we call that the Mercy Seat because God sits there between the golden cherubim. Do you see that pillar of cloud hovering over the Tabernacle? That’s to the Shekinah glory cloud. It comes to rest on the mercy seat.”
Again, a look of longing shadows the face of the man from Moab. “Oh, if only I were a priest. I should love to go into the Holy of Holies and gaze upon God and worship Him there in the beauty of His holiness.”
“Oh no,” says the man at the gate, “you couldn’t do that even if you were a priest. To enter into the holy place you would have to be a High Priest, or the High Priest of Israel. Only he can go in there, nobody else.”