A God Who Wants to Dwell

Terumah | תרומה | "Heave Offering"                                02.21.26

Torah: Exodus 25:1 - 27:19

Prophets: 1 Kings 5:12(5:26) - 6:13; Jeremiah 33:25-26

Brit Hadasha: Matthew 12:46 - 13:58; Hebrews 8:1-6, 9:23-24, 10:1

This morning, I want to start with a question.

Have you ever loved someone so deeply that you didn’t just want to visit them… you wanted to live with them? 

Not a pop-in. Not a holiday. Not a once-a-week check-in, or weekly date night. You wanted closeness. Permanence. A shared life.  Perhaps, your marriage.

That’s the heart behind this week’s Torah Portion, Terumah.

Because Exodus 25 doesn’t begin with measurements. It begins with desire.

God says:

“Let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8)

Let’s really pause to think about that.

The God who spoke galaxies into being…The God who hung the stars with no strain…The God who sits enthroned above the circle of the earth…says: Build Me a place so I can dwell with you.

Not “near you.” Not “over you.”  Among you.

And what I love about this portion is that it’s not just ancient instruction. It’s a divine pattern.  And it’s so clearly His strong, strong love for us.

Terumah in other words is God saying:  I will have a special people that I will call my own. I will dwell with them and I will make a way to always be near.

Now you know I like to find patterns… so let’s look and see if we can find one here.

Because the Tabernacle isn’t random. It’s not Moses’ creativity.  It’s not Israel’s best attempt at building something sacred.

The Tabernacle is a microcosm of something massive. It’s the story of creation. It’s the story of Eden. It’s the story of exile and return. It’s the story of judgment and mercy. It’s the story of Messiah and access. It’s the story of seeds… and the harvest God has been after from the beginning.

So I pray to the Father, as we open Your Word, that you open us. Not just our minds—but open our hearts and our spirits. Not just our curiosity—but also our obedience. Let the blueprint become a mirror. And let the mirror lead us back into the holy fire of Your presence. In Yeshua’s name. Amen.

1) Micro and Macro: Creation and the Tent of Meeting

Let’s start in Genesis. In Genesis, God builds a place where He can dwell with man.

Think about it. The universe is His. The heavens declare His glory. But in all that greatness, He set aside a small place—Earth, and then Eden—and He formed a garden sanctuary where the presence of God and the presence of man overlapped.

Eden was not just a garden. Eden was a meeting place. It was the first “tabernacle.”

And we know what happened. We know how quickly we fractured that fellowship. Sin didn’t just break rules—it broke proximity. It didn’t just stain behavior—it disrupted dwelling.

Separation.

And from that moment on, the story of Scripture becomes the story of a path to reconciliation.

Now here’s where insight is so powerful: After Eden, we start seeing “man-made” versions of what God had established.

God with His finger writes the first tablets of stone. Moses comes down the mountain… and Israel is in chaos. And Moses breaks the tablets.

That moment is not just anger. It’s symbolism. It’s like heaven saying:  “This covenant cannot be carried casually.”

So Moses goes back up. And this time Moses writes them.

And then what happens? We move from God building a place (Eden)…to God giving a word (commandments)…

to man writing them down (stone and later parchment)…to man being entrusted to build a place (Tabernacle).

Do you see the mercy in that?

Even after failure, the Lord doesn’t say: “I’m done.” He says: “Bring Me an offering. "He says: “Make Me a sanctuary. "He says: “Let’s do this again—My way this time.”

And it’s not just “build.” It’s how.

Over and over we hear:

“According to all that I show you… so shall you make it.” (Exodus 25:9)

That line matters because it tells us: The Tabernacle is a pattern—a shadow—of something greater.

And Hebrews confirms it:

Messiah is a minister of the sanctuary and the true heavenly tabernacle, which the Lord erected, and not man. (Hebrews 8:2)

So the Tabernacle itself is not the destination. It’s a prophetic signpost along the way to millennial reign.

2) Divisions: God Separates to Gather

Now let’s go deeper into the “dividing” theme.

In creation, God divides.

• Light from darkness

• Waters above from waters below

• Land from sea

And here’s the key: God’s divisions are not meant to destroy.  They are actually meant to gather something special.  They are meant to order. They create space for life. They create boundaries where thriving can happen.

And the Tabernacle does the same thing.

We see three primary divisions:

1. The Courtyard

2. The Holy Place

3. The Most Holy Place

That’s not just architecture. That’s theology.

It mirrors creation in another way too—because creation itself moves from “outer” to “inner” to “center.”

And it mirrors Eden in a way that should make us sit up and take note.

• Outside the garden

• In the garden

• In the midst of the garden

That’s the map of proximity.

And it’s like God is preaching without words: “Approach is possible, but it is ordered.”

And honestly? This is where modern Christianity sometimes gets sloppy. We love intimacy and we should. But we forget reverence.

We love access and we should. But we forget holiness. Terumah shows us a God who invites, but does not compromise.

His presence is not casual. It is covenant.

3) Cherubim: From Guarding the Way to Marking the Way Back

Now let’s deal with the cherubim.

Genesis says that when man was expelled from Eden, God placed cherubim to guard the way to the Tree of Life. (Genesis 3:24)

That means the way back was blocked—not because God is petty, but because sin cannot enter the place of unfiltered glory and survive. Holiness is not safe to the flesh.

But look at Terumah.

Cherubim appear again:

• Woven into the curtains/veil

• Hovering over the mercy seat on the Ark

And you asked: Where else?

We also see cherubim imagery later echoing into the Temple. In Solomon’s Temple, giant cherubim are placed in the inner sanctuary (Most Holy Place) (1 Kings 6), guarding and marking the sacred space.

So what do the cherubim mean now?

Here’s the stunning contrast:

In Eden, they stood as a sign of separation. In the Tabernacle, they stand as a sign of approach through mercy.

The cherubim didn’t change. God didn’t become less holy. What changed is that God created a covenantal mechanism—atonement—to open a way.

Cherubim on the veil are like heaven saying: "You cannot barge in. But you can come in by My provision.”

And that is Messiah.

Hebrews says the earthly tabernacle was a copy, a shadow.

“For the law, having a shadow of the good things to come…” (Hebrews 10:1)

The pattern is screaming: "There is a better blood. There is a better priest. There is a better access.”

4) Ark and Ark: Preservation Through Covering

Now let’s talk about the ark of Noah and the Ark of the Covenant.

Yes. The Hebrew words are different. But I also believe—no coincidence that it’s the same in English.

And yes, coincidence is not a kosher word. We serve the God of intention.

Because both arks are containers of covenant continuity.

Noah’s ark preserved the seed-line—eight souls through whom the promise continues. It protected the legacy of the promised Seed first spoken to Eve.  It carried humanity through judgment into a new beginning.

The Ark of the Covenant preserved the testimony of the covenant:

• The tablets (the witness)

• The manna (provision)

• Aaron’s rod (authority confirmed)

It carried evidence that God provides, God speaks, God governs, and God keeps His promises.

Both arks are made of wood.  Both are covered. Both are designed for preservation.

Now let’s go just a little bit deeper.  Another pattern revisited.

Pitch and Gold: Darkness Before Light

Noah’s ark is covered with pitch—dark sealing. The Ark of the Covenant is overlaid with gold—bright glory.

And we see a prophetic pattern that runs through Scripture:

• Creation: evening then morning  (dark before light)

• Flood narrative: raven before dove (dark before light)

• Tabernacle: pitch before gold (dark before light)

Here’s what that tells us:

God often seals you in the dark before He reveals you in the light.

There are seasons when we feel “contained.” Pressed. Restricted. Hidden.

But the ark isn’t punishment. The ark is protection. The ark is God keeping the promise alive while the storm rages outside.

And when the waters recede, what comes out is not the same thing that went in. It’s preserved. It’s purified. It’s positioned.

That is covenant mercy.

5) The Tabernacle as the Face of God

First, I want to say this carefully: I am not shrinking God into a diagram. God is spirit. God is infinite.  God is omnipresent.

But Scripture does use “face” language constantly to describe relational proximity.

Think about the Aaronic blessing:

“The LORD make His face shine upon you…”“The LORD lift up His countenance upon you…” (Numbers 6:24–26)

The face represents favor, attention, nearness, communion.

So when you look at the tabernacle layout and you see correspondence—I don’t think that’s happenstance. I think it’s pattern.

Photo Credits: AlephBeta.org

Holy of Holies: Mind / Throne / Will

At the deepest point is the Most Holy Place. That’s where the Ark is. That’s where the mercy seat is. That’s where God’s presence is manifested.

I would call it the “brain.” But I’ll add: It’s the seat of will, authority, covenant memory.  Also forehead and place of sealing.

It’s the place where God’s kingship is pictured.

Lampstand and Showbread: Eyes and Sight

Then in the Holy Place, The Eyes.

• The menorah gives light—necessary for vision.

• The bread of the presence (“showbread”) is what is set before God for us look upon for a week.

It’s not just bread. It’s a continual testimony: Life is sustained in His presence.

Bread is representative of his word as well. 

And the imagery is rich: Light + bread = sight + sustenance. What you behold affects what you hunger for.  Remember Eve looked upon the fruit and assumed it was good for consumption.  We look upon the Bread.

Incense Altar: Nose / Breath / Prayer

Then the altar of incense—smell.  Right in the place of the nose.

Representative of prayer rising. Scripture repeatedly ties incense to prayer. 

And the placement matters: right before the veil. As if to say: prayer is how you press toward presence.

Bronze Altar: Mouth / Consuming Fire

And then at the entry, in the courtyard: the altar where sacrifices are consumed, right in the place of the mouth.

The altar consumes offerings the way a mouth consumes food.

And spiritually, it points to this truth:  Approach begins with sacrifice.

You don’t wander into holiness. You come by blood. You come by surrender.  You come by covenant.

6) The Menorah and the Word & the Light

Now the menorah. 

The Word of God is light.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105)

The menorah was beaten from one piece of pure gold. Not assembled from scraps. Not welded together.

Beaten. One piece.

That’s a picture of unity forged through pressure.  It’s a picture of a beaten Messiah who is the light of the world. 

And the light was not optional. The priests were commanded to keep it burning.

So here’s the spiritual punch: If the people of God stop tending the light, darkness doesn’t have to be invited— it simply arrives.

Beloved, this is why the enemy fights your Bible time.  This is why distraction isn’t neutral.  It is warfare. Because if he can dim the lamp, he can blur your discernment.

If he can keep you scrolling, he can keep you shallow. If he can keep you hurried, he can keep you unfocused. If he can keep you entertained, he can keep you unlit.

The menorah says: The presence of God is not sustained by vibes.  It’s sustained by obedience and tending the flame.

The oil that keeps the lamp burning didn’t come from Walmart.  Exodus 27:20  explicitly states that this is provided by the children of Israel.  They were commanded to bring pure olive oil, beaten for the light, to keep the lamp burning continually.

Beaten for the light. Not squeezed casually. Not collected conveniently.

Beaten.

Oil only flows when olives are crushed.

And the crushing was not outsourced to Egypt. It was not supplied by the nations. It was brought by the covenant people.

The light in the sanctuary depended on a people willing to endure crushing.

God does not promise us a life of ease. In fact, Scripture tells us plainly that there will be testing, refinement, pruning, and pressing.

But what if the crushing is not destruction? What if the crushing is preparation?

What if the pressure is what releases what was always inside you?

Olives do not produce oil until they are pressed.  Grapes do not produce wine until they are crushed. Incense does not release fragrance until it is ground.

And believers do not radiate light until they have been refined. The oil had to be pure — no sediment, no mixture, no contamination.

That means the crushing was followed by filtering. Settling. Separation.

This is sanctification. This is the slow, patient work of the Spirit removing bitterness, pride, impatience, self-reliance — until what remains is clear, usable oil.

And here is the holy mystery:

The oil both fuels the lamp and symbolizes the Spirit.

We are crushed so that we may carry oil. We carry oil so that we may sustain light. We sustain light so that others may see. Yeshua said, “You are the light of the world.”

But light is not self-generated. It is sustained. And sustained light requires surrendered oil.

Our testing is not evidence of abandonment. It may be evidence that God intends to use you to illuminate.

The sanctuary required oil every day. The flame had to be tended continually. It was not a one-time emotional encounter. It was daily faithfulness.

So when the crushing comes — do not curse it.  Consider it pure joy.

Ask the Lord: “What oil are You pressing out of me?”  “What impurity are You filtering away?”

Because a people unwilling to be refined cannot remain radiant.

And if the enemy can convince you that crushing means failure, he can extinguish what God meant to ignite.

But if you understand that the pressing produces oil — then even your trials become holy ground.

7) Seeds: Matthew 13 and the Harvest of the Kingdom

Now we turn to Matthew, and what do we see?      Seeds.

Messiah begins to speak in parables—especially the parable of the sower.

And I want you to notice how this connects to Terumah.

Terumah is about offerings—what you bring. Matthew 13 is about seed—what you receive and what you steward.

A seed is small, but it contains a future. And the Kingdom often comes that way—hidden, quiet, unimpressive - at first. To those without eyes to see.

The sower sows the word.

And the entire question is: what kind of soil is inside you?

Because the seed is the same seed each time. The difference is the condition of the heart.

Sometimes the seed is snatched.  Some sprouts shallow and dies under pressure. Some are choked by cares and riches. But some bear fruit—thirty, sixty, a hundredfold.

The Tabernacle teaches ordered access to God’s presence. Matthew 13 teaches ordered receptivity to God’s word.

Because you cannot host God’s presence if you won’t steward God’s seed.

A sanctuary is built with offerings, yes—gold, silver, acacia wood—but it’s also built with a heart that says: “Lord, I will give You room.”

And that’s the link.

Eden failed because man would not obey. The first tablets broke because man would not wait. The Tabernacle stands because man finally brings an offering and follows the pattern.

And Messiah says: “The Kingdom is like seed.”  Meaning: It begins where you make room.

8) Hebrews: Shadow and Substance

Now we go to Hebrews and it ties everything together like a bow.

Hebrews says the earthly tabernacle is a copy of heavenly realities.

It’s shadow language. That means if we stop at the furnishings, we missed the point.

The point is Messiah. He is the true High Priest. He is the true offering. He is the true access. He is the true mercy seat.

And in Him, the cherubim no longer signify “blocked”—they signify “marked.”  The way is identified.

And here’s the miracle: God doesn’t just dwell among us—He dwells within us.

What the tabernacle foreshadowed in fabric and gold, Yeshua fulfills in flesh and Spirit.

The Sanctuary God Still Wants

So what do we do with Terumah?  We do not treat it like ancient trivia. We treat it like a question.

God says:  “Let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.”

Luke 2:7“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”

And the question remains:  Will we still make Him room?

Not in a building—though we honor that. Not in a ritual—though we honor that. But in our lives.

Will we bring our terumah—our lifted offering?

Not leftovers. Not convenience. Not “whatever I can spare.”  But the kind of offering that says: “Lord, You are worthy of my best.”

Because here’s the truth: God is still building a dwelling place.

But now the materials are different.

Now He builds with:

• surrendered hearts

• obedient minds

• clean hands

• faithful stewardship

• prayer that rises like incense

• and the seed of the Word planted deep

2 Corinthians 6:16

“For we are the temple of the living God; as God has said, ‘I will dwell in them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.’”

And I want to end with this:

Eden shows us what we lost. Terumah shows us how God made a way. Matthew shows us what kind of soil we must become. Hebrews shows us the One who fulfilled the pattern.

And today, the Lord is still saying:

“Build Me a place. Tend the lamp. Bring the offering. Receive the seed. Walk the pattern.”

God who divided the waters is still dividing darkness from light in His people. The God who guarded Eden is still guarding holiness. The God who gave blueprints is still giving instruction. The God who sent seed is still seeking fruit.

So let us be a people who make Him room. Let us be a sanctuary.

And may the Lord make His face shine upon you. May His countenance be lifted over you. And may His presence dwell among you—not as a visitor, but as a King at home.

In Yeshua’s name. Amen.