Whether you get your information from the Bible or from Indiana Jones, the Ark of the Covenant is a mysterious and important part of Israel’s spiritual story, and Exodus 25:10-22 chronicles the instructions for the construction of this container. Oddly, this passage isn’t very spiritual in the way it is written. It reads more like something you’d get from IKEA than from the Old Testament. But there’s something fascinating below the surface of the passage. It is the end of this short text that causes me to wonder how much the builders might have understood while they were putting it together, and what I (we) can learn from the process.

How many things do we spend time putting things together? Not just furniture or puzzles or construction projects, but lives, relationships, friendships and homes. And how often, if we are being honest, do these projects feel mundane, boring, unimportant and tedious? Probable more than we’d like to admit. That is the way with nearly all projects. The life-cycle of accomplishment begins with energy and excitement and ends with relief and pride in accomplishment. But between the first 30% and the last 30% the project the task can become uniquely challenging.

There is a place on the earth called the “Intertropical Convergence Zone.” In this area the seas become still and the stagnancy is so profound it has acquired its own unique name: “the doldrums.” The doldrums is the nautical term sailors use to refer to the belt around the Earth near the equator where sailing ships, at times, get stuck on windless waters. Nothing seems to be moving. It’s too far into the voyage to turn back, but also too far from the end to enjoy that boost of near-completion-motivation.

In the areas of the doldrums, as ships moved little or not-at-all sometimes for weeks, sailors would encounter depression, sadness and at times even madness (what we’d call situational mental illness) because of the “muddy middle” of the process. And while I know the men and women in Exodus had been anointed and equipped by God to do the work of building the Tabernacle and its furniture, it’s a profoundly romanticized view of ministry that refuses to believe they didn’t at least occasionally think, “I’m just ready to be done with this.” As holy as the process might have been I’ve worked in churches long enough to know all projects, no matter how holy and good they are, don’t always feel very supernaturally important. There are some things we do in our spiritual life, our professional life and our life as a part of the Body of Christ that don’t feel all that exciting and can dip into times of discouragement because progress is so slow.

Considering all the work that had to be done, I wonder if some of the preparation and assembly of the Tabernacle furniture got into this kind of place. I know as a pastor, even in this vocation of calling, there are doldrums. Times when the most noble work imaginable can feel stagnant and tedious. And that doesn’t mean the work is unimportant, it just means building important things isn’t always filled with uninterrupted excitement.

So, with these questions swirling around, as I read this passage again it caused the last verse to stand out uniquely. 

There I will meet with you, and from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim that are on the ark of the testimony, I will speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel. – Exodus 25:22

It might be important to read that verse one more time.

Here, the instructions of God provide an understanding of why this project was so crucial. In a world where so many gods were being worshipped Israel had been called, adopted, redeemed and visited by the only real Deity of the entire group. Yahweh had given them a name and then used it to call them out. He appointed and anointed leaders to bring them to a greater understanding of who they were, where they belonged and what He had promised them. He’d flexed His divine muscles and defeated the most powerful nation on earth not with an army of soldiers but with gnats, frogs, darkness and eventually a body of water. And now He was giving them blueprints to build a house where they could encounter Him in uniquely personal and liberating ways.

God didn’t wait until AFTER the project to say, “there…I will speak with you about all that I have for you,” He included this in the original instructions. And maybe, because God understands human nature better than any being in the universe, He made it clear up front because He knows even the most noble work will have to endure the doldrums if it is ever to be finished. And God knows grand purpose is the antidote for the doldrums.

God ensured their obedience, their attention to detail and their commitment to finishing was not merely a destination in itself, but it was seen as a journey that was going somewhere new. The work they were doing was not just a construction project, it was the assembling of a communication center between an earth in desperate need and a heaven full of promise and hope.

And what if the work you’re doing today, even if it’s not the construction of the Temple, comes with similar hopes and promises? The work you’re doing as a parent, to raise and train your kids even when they seem to have no interest in it at all – that work comes with a promise that when they are old they will not depart from it (Proverbs 22:6). The work you’re doing to follow the narrow path of Jesus based on what He’s given you freely is something that will produce the mind of Christ in you and the evidence of grace around you (Philippians 2:5-12). And this list could go on.

The beauty of this passage in Exodus is found in God’s full understanding of our vacillating motivations through the project that is our life of faith. God knows we are merely flesh, He knows we have moments and seasons of weakness, He knows we will have troubles in this world, and still He says what I’ve started in you I have also committed to finishing (Philippians 1:6).

When the doldrums hit our life and the slow or nonexistent progress we’re encountering begins to erode our spirit, it matters that you and I not descend into madness or sadness before we look back at the blueprints, look again at the original word. It will be the promises of God which will sustain us through to the end. It is this hope – that He will use our simple obedience to bring results exponentially greater than our investment – which affords us grit and perseverance when the winds of novelty die down.

Listen closely: what you’re building matters. Whether that’s a home, a family, a life of liberty, a godly vocation, a Christlike character or an intimate relationship…what you’re building matters. Don’t give up on the project until you’ve looked closely at, reminded yourself of, and stubbornly claimed the promises God has made to you. The difference between finishing the Ark of the Covenant with excellence and not finishing it (or worst of all just getting it done without caring about the quality) could very well have been the word of Yahweh saying, “do this job well, because your work is not just building gold angels or a big box, your work is creating the very place where My voice is going to speak to you, your children and to generations of your descendants. Don’t give up too soon, this job might seem tedious, but it’s tremendously important…which is why I gave it to you.”

Father, mother, brother, sister, pastor, leader, teacher, singer, writer, builder, painter, child, teenager, new convert and long-time disciple – what God has called you to build matters more than you might think. Go back to His word, back to His word to you, and see if there isn’t more motivation than you’re feeling right now. Don’t quit in the doldrums. The project is worth the effort. The journey is worth the destination.