“Public worship is to be preferred before private. So it is by the Lord, so it should be by his people.” This was the conclusion drawn by English Puritan David Clarkson in his treatise expositing Psalm 87:2, “The LORD loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob.”[1]

How does that sentiment strike you? Have you considered before that God loves church more than small groups or quiet times? Does your life reflect the same priority? Perhaps the point doesn’t even sound convincing to you. Well, there’s another way we could prove the point of Psalm 87:2—that God loves corporate worship in a special way—and that has to do with the structure of Israel’s first worship center.

The architecture and layout of a church can tell you a lot about its theology. One easy example would be the elevated pulpit in protestant churches, reflecting a Word-centered ministry. But theology has never spoken so loudly through design as in the construction of the tabernacle, which God embedded with rich theological and soteriological significance. 

Enter His courts with praise

Perhaps one commonly overlooked aspect of the tabernacle, however, is the courtyard (Exodus 27). Have you ever wondered why there is this large outer perimeter around the tabernacle? What theological truth is it conveying? I would posit that the courtyard is a little picture of the big heart of God for sinners. It’s a sign of how wide the arms of God are opened to His people. How so? The courtyard was designed so that the multitude could gather together for corporate worship. It was about 150 feet by 75 feet, roughly the size of four tennis courts. It was a space large enough for hundreds of worshipers, dozens of priests ministering, and of course countless animals being constantly sacrificed and eaten. It was a place that was abuzz with sanctified activity—with a constant stream of Israelites entering and exiting as they offered to God the praise that was due His name.

It’s important to note that the courtyard was a place where all could come and worship at God’s house. Later, in the iteration of the temple more courtyards were added. Some for Gentiles, some for women, some for men, others just for priests. But God’s law in designing the tabernacle said nothing about keeping these groups separate or distinct. This was the place for everyone to worship at God’s house. No, not in God’s house. But at it. The Holy of Holies was for the High Priest only. The Holy Place was for priests only. But the courtyard was for everyone. It was the place for all people to gather. 

One Old Testament scholar gets to the heart of this text:

“There is nothing sacred or symbolic about the dimensions of the courtyard, other than the fact that its size provided for corporate worship, signifying in the Old Covenant that God accepted and delighted in the group adoration of his people, together at a single location—a model of heaven, where all the grand, historic assembly of the people of God from all places and ages will together praise his magnificent name forever.”[2]

A way back

The courtyard shows us simultaneously that God loves corporate worship and that we need corporate worship. Humanity’s greatest problem was announced in Genesis 3:22, when man was dis-fellowshipped from God and driven out of the Garden. Our souls need communion with the living Lord, and so the need has always been to get back to God.

With that in mind, imagine how precious the instruction of Exodus 27:16 would have been: “For the gate of the court there shall be a screen twenty cubits long, of blue and purple and scarlet yarns and fine twined linen, embroidered with needlework.” A gate! There was a doorway back to God. And it’s made of the same beautiful fabric as the veil to the Holy of Holies, but it’s missing one thing: the embroidered cherubim, wielding their flaming swords to ward off sinners (26:31). The courtyard preached this message: God wants His people to come to Him.

The place to be

God’s glory is too big for just one worshiper. That’s why when God says he is going to dwell among His people He doesn’t build a prayer closet; He builds a tabernacle. He builds a house with a huge yard for people to come to. This reminds us that the Christian faith is a public faith. It’s a personal faith, certainly. But it’s never meant to be private. The primary way we come into God’s presence is through corporate worship. The Israelites got this. For all their foolishness, they understood that meeting with God wasn’t about meditation or solitude, but about thunderous worship in the company of the saints. And so they longed for God’s courtyard:

“Blessed is the one you choose and bring near, to dwell in your courts! We shall be satisfied with the goodness of your house, the holiness of your temple!” (Psalms 65:4)

“For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.” (Psalms 84:10)

“Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name!” (Psalms 100:4)

To an ancient Israelite, God’s courtyard was the place to be. Do you have that same sense regarding our corporate worship? Do you see that church is the place to be? Is Sunday worship the highlight of your week, or does it get crammed in with all the other activities and chores you have to get done? Is church the most important thing you do every week, or is it an expendable obligation if something better or seemingly “more important” comes up? What we do on Sundays, where we are, and how we feel about church all says something really important and profound about our relationship to God. Yes, He wants you. Yes, Christ died for you. But He didn’t die for you alone—and therefore He doesn’t want you alone, either. What brings a smile to God’s face is the assembling of His blood-bought children to sing His praise, offer up prayers, and listen to Him speak.

Loving the assembly 

To be clear, this is not to say that private worship isn’t beneficial, or that God isn’t glorified through it. But the tabernacle shows us where the priority in our spiritual life must lie. It’s not in the closet; it’s in the courts. In fact, it is what goes on at church on Sundays that feeds and fuels our private and family devotions throughout the week. Without corporate worship, these others would die.

We come to church because we need it. It’s where we hear from God, it’s where we feast upon Him, it’s where our faith is most strengthened. And because it’s a corporate reality the people at church really matter. Are you getting all the benefits that the assembly of saints offers if you dash out the door immediately after the benediction, or if you make no effort to connect with people throughout the week? Learn to linger. Learn to love your fellow pew-dwellers. Otherwise, it could be that you are merely trying to get your private worship fix out of the public ministry of the church. The church is a body, and we need each other to function. 

The more you get to know your fellow churchgoers, and love them, the more you will love the lesson of the courtyard: that God has a big heart for sinners. It is so big that He can embrace me fully with His love—me, a worthless wretch with all my failures and folly—and still have more than enough love to embrace you, too. That’s a lesson that’s hard to learn alone, but one that is beautifully embodied through the simple act of gathering together for worship.

[1] David Clarkson, “Public Worship to Be Preferred Before Private” in The Practical Works of David Clarkson (Edinburgh: James Nichol, 1865), 3:187-209. The entire treatise is filled with wonderful, biblical arguments proving this important point, and anyone would benefit from engaging with it all.

[2] Douglas K. Stuart, Exodus in The New American Commentary (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2006), 598.