Today's passage offers us a paradoxical combination of sacred text and ledger. On the one hand, there is the description of the very altar around which people seeking an encounter with God will gather...
Today's passage offers us a paradoxical combination of sacred text and ledger. On the one hand, there is the description of the very altar around which people seeking an encounter with God will gather; on the other, a careful listing of all the expenses connected with the construction of the Tabernacle: how much was brought, how much was spent and on what, and how much remained.
A combination of holiness and calculation that would seem completely out of place. In fact, however, there is its own logic and deep meaning here. Today it often seems to us that God's work does not require any especially careful accounting and control: after all, this is about God, for whom nothing is too much to spare, and if so, there is no need to count costs carefully. At the same time people sometimes recall the well-known Gospel saying about unworthy servants and similar things, from which they conclude that one need not settle accounts with God, and therefore whatever has been spent has been spent, and there is no reason to be petty, whether the cost is money or labor.
The issue here, however, is not God at all, but ourselves. God has plenty of everything, and He begrudges us nothing, while we certainly cannot add anything to Him. Yet the inability to count is not listed anywhere in the Bible among the virtues. The only exception may be David's census of the people, but there they counted with a very definite aim: to make the people dependent on the state, to count everyone so that no one would escape the "eye of the state." God truly has no need for such statistics, directed toward the enslavement of a person. It is another matter to calculate the expenses for the work ahead: this not only can be done, it must be done.
If only so that later, if something is suddenly lacking, one does not end up in the position of a person who has no way to bring God's work to completion. There is also another side connected with the ability to count, calculate, and plan work, and it is already directly connected with spiritual life. The point is that the inability to count, like every state of being "not of this world" so popular among "spiritual" people, in reality testifies not so much to deep spirituality as to badly neglected looseness.
A person who is truly living a spiritual life first of all clearly recognizes the reality inside which he finds himself and in which he has to act. He usually understands perfectly well where counting is needed, and very careful counting at that, and where calculations are out of place, and he does not confuse one situation with the other. Ledgers, of course, remain in any case a very dry matter and rather tedious reading, but no person who understands what normal spiritual life is would consider them unspiritual merely because they contain nothing except what they ought to contain.