“It’s a Miracle: Uzzah touches the ark”
II Samuel 6:6-7
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
On the eastern coast of Africa, in the northern reaches of Ethiopia, near the base of the Adwa mountains, there’s a town called Aksum. It’s one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in Africa and is home today to some 56,000 people. Once upon a time, it was the capital of an empire. Today, it boasts little more than a handful of museums, a university, and an airport.
But the one thing that sets the town of Aksum apart from any other place on earth is that it’s the home of the ark of the covenant. At least that’s what they say.
At first, the ark was kept in Jerusalem in the most holy place of the temple, the center of Israel’s life and worship. But at some point in history, no one really knows when, the ark was taken and hidden somewhere else, possibly at Mt. Nebo in Jordan or in a tunnel deep beneath Jerusalem.
And then, according to some, the ark was taken to Ethiopia by a man named Menelik, the supposed son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, then kept safe and hidden across the centuries. Today, it’s enshrined in a small chapel, beside the Church of St. Mary of Zion.
But if you were to visit there, there’s no way you could possibly see it. Not even the president of Ethiopia can see it. The only one who can is a man named Abba Tesfa Mariam, the current high priest of Aksum. He’s an old monk who’s charged with its care and preservation for life. He wears nothing but a simple olive-colored robe, a dark pillbox turban and sandals. And he lives behind an iron fence in the small yard that surrounds the chapel. And he will stay there until he dies.
Is Aksum really the home of the ark of the covenant? Is it really there? We’ll probably never know for sure.
In the book of II Samuel chapter 6, we find a story about the ark, a real story about a tragedy that once happened, that took the life of a man named Uzzah, all because he dared to touch the ark.
Please open your Bibles to page 329 and follow along as I read the words of II Samuel chapter 6, starting at verse 1: “David again gathered all the chosen men of Israel, thirty thousand. And David arose and went with all the people who were with him from Baale-judah to bring up from there the ark of God, which is called by the name of the Lord of hosts who sits enthroned on the cherubim. And they carried the ark of God on a new cart and brought it out of the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill. And Uzzah and Ahio, the sons of Abinadab, were driving the new cart, with the ark of God, and Ahio went before the ark.”
Let’s stop there for just a moment to see what’s going on. Not too many years before, actually about twenty years before, Israel was at war with the Philistines. And when things weren’t going so well, they decided to bring the ark, the symbol of God’s presence, to be with them, to fight for them.
But Israel soon found out that the ark was no good luck charm, because the Philistines won and Israel was soundly defeated. Then to make matters worse, horror of horrors, the Philistines captured the ark, and put it in the temple of Dagon their god.
And the very next morning, when the priests of Dagon opened their temple, what should they find but their god fallen facedown before the ark. So they set him back up again. Then the next day, when they came to their temple, they found that not only had he fallen, but, this time, his head and his hands had broken off. Then when rats and tumors moved in, the Philistines decided they better move the ark out. So they put it on a cart drawn by a couple of milk cows and sent it back home to Israel.
Then for the next twenty years, there it sat in a town called Kiriath-jearim, in the home of a man named Abinadab, and his two sons Ahio and Uzzah.
And now, as we just read in II Samuel chapter 6, David felt it was time to move it back to Jerusalem, the capital city, the home of worship and government. So they put it on a cart, (verse 4), to take it to its new home.
Wait just one second. A cart, eh? That’s not the way it’s supposed to be. David knew it, Abinadab knew it, Ahio and Uzzah knew it, in fact, everyone knew that’s not how you moved the ark. The book of Numbers was perfectly clear: “When the camp is ready to move, the Kohathites are to come to do the carrying.”
But you see, Kiriath-Jearim was about ten miles west of Jerusalem. David thought, “Four men carrying a big, heavy box, for ten miles, with poles on their shoulders? Ridiculous! Impossible! Wouldn’t it be so much easier to put it on a cart and let oxen do the work instead?”
And that was their first mistake. They didn’t do what God had said.
Now let’s pick it up at verse 5 to see what happened next. “And David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the Lord with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals. And when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah put out his hand to the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah, and God struck him down there because of his error, and he died there beside the ark of God.”
Now wait just one second here. The ark was about to fall and all Uzzah did was reach out to steady it, and God killed him? Isn’t that just a bit harsh?
But once again, David knew, Abinadab knew, Ahio and Uzzah knew, in fact, everyone knew that no one should ever touch the ark. Numbers chapter 1 says: “Anyone who goes near it shall be put to death.” And Numbers chapter 4: “They must not touch the holy things or they will die.”
Imagine, for a moment, that you worked for a company whose president found it necessary to travel out of the country to spend some time away. So he says to you and to his other trusted employees, “I’m about to leave, and while I’m away, I want you all to pay close attention to the business. You manage things while I’m away. I’ll write often. And when I do, I’ll tell you what to do from now until I return from my trip.”
Then he left and stayed away for two full years. And throughout that time, he wrote often, just like he said, and communicated his desires and concerns.
Finally, after those two years pass, he returns. He walks up to the front door of the company and, to his great distress, he discovers everything is a mess—weeds are growing in flower beds, windows are broken, graffiti defaces the outside walls. Even worse, the girl at the front desk is sound asleep, loud music is playing in several offices, and a couple of the employees are shouting and throwing things at each other. And instead of making a profit, the business has suffered a terrible loss.
Without hesitation, he calls everyone together and, in despair, asks, “What happened? Didn’t you get my letters?”
And what do you say? You say, “Sure, we got your letters. We even bound them together in a book and study them every Monday morning. Some of us have even memorized them. You know, those were really great letters.”
Then the company president asks, “But what did you do about my instructions?”
“Do?!” you answer. “We didn’t do anything. But we read every one!”
And that was Israel’s problem. They replaced obedience with laziness and accepted the thinking of men over the clear commands of God.
And sadly enough, sometimes even we do the same. Just like setting the ark on a cart, it’s so much easier, we think, to ride along on someone else’s faith rather than walk with God. Walking takes time. Walking takes effort. It’s hard to study and pray. But all the while, we stray further and further from God.
And where did Uzzah go wrong? Sure, he touched the ark, something God said no one should ever do. But his greater sin was complacency.
You see, Uzzah grew up with the ark. For the last twenty years, it was in his house. He had a table and a couch and a chair and a bed and a lampstand. Oh, yea, and the ark of the covenant. For him, the symbol of God’s presence, that holy, golden box, no longer filled him with awe and fear and reverence. For Uzzah, it was little more than just another piece of furniture.
God became too comfortable for him, too commonplace. And that’s why he dared to reach out and touch the ark.
And sometimes, even we do the same. We come to worship, if we want to. We sing the songs, if we feel like it. And we live Christian lives, if we have the time. But all the while, we forget that our God is a consuming fire.
Once upon a time, or so the story goes, in a land called Feel Good, there was a church, a new church. And the church was called, “The Church of the Comfortable and Tolerant.” And that church, since it was so new, hired a new pastor, Pastor Peace Keeper, who just graduated from the Seminary of Smooth Talking.
And that church in the land of Feel Good loved the new pastor’s sermons. Some of their favorites were “God is happy with everyone,” “Everything is fine and dandy,” and “There is nothing but good times ahead.”
Life was good for the people of The Church of the Comfortable and Tolerant.
But the day came when Pastor Peace Keeper made a terrible mistake. He let another pastor preach from the pulpit, one named Minister Conscience.
And this minister didn’t talk about human “mistakes” like Pastor Peace Keeper did. Instead, he called them “sins” and told the people to “repent.”
As you can imagine, the congregation of the Comfortable and Tolerant were shocked at his rudeness and arrogance. They said things like, “Who does this self-righteous legalist think he is talking to us like that? Why did this false preacher come to persecute us?”
So Pastor Peace Keeper told Minister Conscience to please leave the church, and never come back again.
Then, the next week, when things returned to normal, the way they had always been, everyone was happy once again in the land called Feel Good. Pastor Peace Keeper continued to sugarcoat sweet and wonderful sermons that made everyone feel comfortable, tolerant and feel really good. And all were satisfied and happy as they sat in their comfort and complacency.
In the words of F. B. Meyer, “The one thing that pierces the heart of God with unutterable grief is not the world’s iniquity, but the church’s indifference.”
“Repent,” said our Savior Jesus, “for the kingdom of God is near.”
So what hope do we have?
The good news is this--God’s power and presence and holiness may not be found in some remote African shrine, but it can be found in the ark of Mary’s womb and on a rough, wooden cross. It’s found in the fact that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. And though we are so unworthy that we cannot come close to God, Jesus Christ came close to us and promised that nothing can separate us from His love.
Could anyone ever love us more than Jesus?
Dear Father, as Your Word reveals, a man named Uzzah once dared to touch the ark. By Your grace, wash us, cleanse us, and make us whole again. This we ask for Jesus’ sake. Amen