In High School I was involved in a pretty intense theater program. We’d regularly rehearse till 9 or 10 pm and sometimes not leave the school until midnight on weekends. One night at the conclusion of a big production, my friends and I decided to celebrate a “job well done” with pancakes! We finished at the school around midnight and all headed to IHOP to gorge ourselves on carbs. It was a great night and we all headed home around 4 am feeling happy and stuffed. But the story doesn’t end there.

I woke up the next morning to my mom frantically talking on the phone. She’d received an aggressive phone call from my theater teacher asking if I’d been at IHOP the previous night. She’d calmly answered “yes” because thankfully, being the “good kid,” I’d asked her for permission. Apparently I was the only one. My friends had not onlynotasked their parents for permission but had blamed their late arrival on her! She’d already had four complaints that morning! Understandably, she was angry.

The following Monday, the wrath ensued. My friends and I sheepishly entered our theater class and were quickly separated. I was asked to go sit in my teacher's office while she had a “conversation” with the rest of the class. What followed was the most epic lecture of the century. I was beyond grateful to be set apart.

There are obviously much heavier consequences for the Israelites as we read through Numbers. I never want to forget how weighty these consequences were, because they remind me of what I’ve been given to escape them; Christ’s blood. In Christ, there is no earth waiting to swallow me whole. Instead, there are open arms waiting to graciously welcome me home. When Moses runs into the assembly to stand between the people and a deadly plague of judgment (Num. 16:48), he temporarily shows us the beauty of Christ’s sacrifice on the horizon. Christ stands in our place.