Walking briskly, you pass through the outer reaches of the Jewish camp. From among the tents, smells waft towards you. You pick up the acrid smell of thousands of campfires, the fragrance of cooking food, and the earthy smell of livestock. Together, these scents of life form the unusual perfume of a vibrant nomadic nation. It is probably no different from what you would expect, the odor of any other ancient encampment of over a million souls.
But, as you continue to pass tent after tent, a new smell greets you. This scent is different from the others. It is warm and aromatic, spiced, sweet, striking. At first, you catch only a whiff. Then, as the unique odor grows stronger, it begins to mask the lesser smells around you. You focus in on that one scent – but what is it?
You are among the Levites now. They have fires, but the smell of smoke is an afterthought. You are overwhelmed by that one powerful smell. You stop. You have reached the center of the Jewish camp. You look up, and there it stands, small but beautiful – the tabernacle of the congregation – the place of worship for this vast people. It is the place their God Jehovah has ordained for them to worship Him.
But what is that sweet smell?
Smoke rises from the incense altar inside the tent, but this is not the smell of incense. Nor is it the fire burning under the bronze altar. You look around, puzzled. You see a friendly-looking Levite and ask him.
“Oh, yes. It’s the oil. To tell you the truth, I’m so used to the smell, I even forget it’s there.” He chuckles.
“That is the holy anointing oil that God commanded us to make and apply to His tent. It is on everything in the holy tabernacle – the ark, the table, the candlestick, the altars – everything. I guess it’s pretty overwhelming, isn’t it?”
He laughs again and turns back to cooking the meal you can hardly smell.
Yes, it is overwhelming.
As we read the Biblical description of the tabernacle God gave Moses in the book of Exodus, we try to imagine how the diminutive but magnificent tent would have looked. There are bronze and gold, images of cherubims, “blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen”. Diagrams have been built, pictures have been painted, replicas have been constructed based on the detailed description Moses received from God, but one aspect is often overlooked. What did the tabernacle smell like? God had a plan for that too.
In Exodus 30, God instructed Moses to compound roughly five gallons of anointing oil.
“Take thou also unto thee principal spices, of pure myrrh five hundred shekels, and of sweet cinnamon half so much, even two hundred and fifty shekels, and of sweet calamus two hundred and fifty shekels, And of cassia five hundred shekels, after the shekel of the sanctuary, and of oil olive an hin: And thou shalt make it an oil of holy ointment, an ointment compound after the art of the apothecary: it shall be an holy anointing oil. And thou shalt anoint the tabernacle of the congregation therewith, and the ark of the testimony, And the table and all his vessels, and the candlestick and his vessels, and the altar of incense, And the altar of burnt offering with all his vessels, and the laver and his foot. And thou shalt sanctify them, that they may be most holy: whatsoever toucheth them shall be holy. And thou shalt anoint Aaron and his sons, and consecrate them, that they may minister unto me in the priest’s office. And thou shalt speak unto the children of Israel, saying, This shall be an holy anointing oil unto me throughout your generations.” (Exodus 30:22-31)
Anyone familiar with fragrant oils knows that a little goes a long way. Five gallons of this oil mixture would be overpowering in its potency and, according to God’s decree, it went on everything – even the priests themselves. The Bible is not clear how often this anointing took place, but even if it was just this once, that much oil hangs around for a while. The scent of it would, no doubt, have filtered into the camp of the Levites. The fragrance would have hung in the air that day the tabernacle was finished and God’s presence descended in a cloud of glory. After that breathtaking display of God’s presence, were the Jews reminded of that glorious day every time they smelled that oil as they approached the tabernacle?
Anyone with a sense of smell knows how emotionally significant scents can become. For me, there is a specific smell of cut grass and wild thyme. With startling consistency and clarity, it takes me back to joyful childhood summer vacations at my grandparents’ house, swimming in the pool, playing whiffle ball in the back yard, exploring in the woods…
For you, maybe it’s the smell of wood smoke, or spruce, or cloves, or baking sugar cookies. Whatever it is, smells have a way of triggering some strong emotional reactions.
For the Israelites, did the distinctive smell of myrrh, cinnamon, calamus, and cassia spark vivid memories of God’s revealed glory? Did the smell of that oil encourage them to adopt a worshipful, God-centered attitude as they approached His tabernacle? I think so.
But what’s the point?
Lest I be misunderstood, I am not suggesting that churches start anointing the pulpit and pews with “holy oil”. Maybe the most direct application is not the most helpful.
But a question arises in my mind as I consider the potential potency of that Divinely-prescribed fragrance. And it has nothing to do with scented candles, or air fresheners, or cologne. It goes much deeper than that. The question I ask myself is this: ‘What is the fragrance of my life?”
Paul talked about that concept in 2 Corinthians 2. He said,
“Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place. For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish: To the one we are the savour of death unto death; and to the other the savour of life unto life. And who is sufficient for these things?” (2 Corinthians 2:14-16)
In essence, Paul was saying, “My ministry partners and I smell like Jesus.” Not literally, of course, but we understand what he means. He was talking about the fragrance of their lives. Being around Paul made you think of Jesus. His very presence exuded his Savior and that made a difference in the lives of the people he met.
Every life has a fragrance and for good or bad, that makes a difference.
I remember at one point when I was growing up, when for a short time, my brother worked at an ice cream shop. After working a shift, he would come home smelling like waffle cones and sometimes, we were just crazy enough to sniff his work apron because it just smelled that good.
When I was in high school, I worked in the back of a different restaurant. For most of that time, my job consisted mostly of washing dishes and working with raw chicken. I, too, came home with a distinctive odor, but I don’t remember ever catching my siblings sniffing my apron.
After a long shift, neither I nor my brother really noticed all that much how we smelled, but our family did.
Like a Levite living right next to the tabernacle, we may not always notice what is influencing us, but our lives will take on the fragrance of the things with which we surround ourselves.
In those early days of the Israelite nation, as the Jews approached the tabernacle and they caught a whiff of that unique oil, what were they thinking? As they remembered the glory of the revealed presence of God, their emotional reactions would have varied.
Those in fellowship with God would have thrilled with joy at the prospect of God’s presence, like young Joshua who, according to Exodus 33:11, “departed not out of the tabernacle.” Others, recognizing that all was not right between them and God, would have dreaded the prospect of approaching the tabernacle. The very idea would have filled them with fear and discomfort.
Paul says that to the saved, his life had a sweet smell, reminding them of their eternal life in Christ. To the lost, his life smelled bitter, reminding them of the wretchedness of their lost state and the horror of their eternal destination. The fragrance of Paul’s life confronted those around him with Christ. They could hardly meet Paul without thinking of Jesus. There was something about him that was different, something unique, something holy.
How about you? What is your life fragrance?
Exempla 