These two chapters form a distinct section, in which we have presented to us the source, the responsibilities, and the privileges of priesthood. Priesthood is a divine institution. “No man taketh this honor unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.” This is made manifest in a most striking manner in chapter xvii.—“The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of Israel, and take of every one of them a rod according to the house of their fathers, of all their princes according to the house of their fathers twelve rods: write thou every man’s name upon his rod. And thou shalt write Aaron’s name upon the rod of Levi; for one rod shall be for the head of the house of their fathers. And thou shalt lay them up in the tabernacle of the congregation before the testimony, where I will meet with you. And it shall come to pass that the man’s rod whom I shall choose shall blossom; and I will make to cease from Me the murmurings of the children of Israel, whereby they murmur against you.’ And Moses spake unto the children of Israel, and every one of their princes gave him a rod apiece, for each prince one, according to their father’s houses, even twelve rods; and the rod of Aaron was among their rods.” (Ver. 1-6.)
What matchless wisdom shines in this arrangement! How completely is the matter taken out of man’s hands and placed where alone it ought to be, namely, in the hands of the living God! It was not to be a man appointing himself, or a man appointing his fellow; but God appointing the man of His own selection. In a word, the question was to be definitively settled by God Himself, so that all murmurings might be silenced forever, and no one be able again to charge God’s high-priest with taking too much upon him. The human will had nothing whatever to do with this solemn matter. The twelve rods, all in a like condition, were laid up before the Lord: man retired, and left God to act. There was no room, no opportunity, because there was no occasion, for human management. In the profound retirement of the sanctuary, far away from all man’s thinkings, was the grand question of priesthood settled by divine decision; and being thus settled, it could never again be raised.
“And Moses laid up the rods before the Lord in the tabernacle of witness. And it came to pass that on the morrow, Moses went into the tabernacle of witness; and, behold, the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was budded, and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds.” Striking and beautiful figure of Him who was “declared to be the Son of God with power by resurrection from the dead”! The twelve rods were all alike lifeless; but God—the living God—entered the scene, and by that power peculiar to Himself, infused life into Aaron’s rod, and brought it forth to view, bearing upon it the fragrant fruits of resurrection.
Who could gainsay this? The rationalist may sneer at it, and raise a thousand questions. Faith gazes on that fruit-bearing rod, and sees in it a lovely figure of the new creation, in the which all things are of God. Infidelity may argue on the ground of the apparent impossibility of a dry stick budding, blossoming, and bearing fruit in the course of one night. But to whom does it appear impossible? To the infidel—the rationalist—the skeptic. And why? Because he always shuts out God. Let us remember this. _Infidelity invariably shuts out God._ Its reasonings are carried on and its conclusions reached in midnight darkness. There is not so much as a single ray of true light in the whole of that sphere in which infidelity operates. It excludes the only source of light, and leaves the soul wrapped in the shades and deep gloom of a darkness that may be felt.
It is well for the young reader to pause here, and deeply ponder this solemn fact. Let him calmly and seriously reflect on this special feature of infidelity—rationalism—or skepticism. It begins, continues, and ends with shutting out God. It would approach the mystery of Aaron’s budding, blossoming, fruit-bearing rod with a godless, audacious “_How?_” This is the infidel’s great argument? He can raise ten thousand questions, but never settle one. He will teach you how to doubt, but never how to believe. He will lead you to doubt every thing, but gives you nothing to believe.