Imagine walking into Shiloh on a feast day. The Tabernacle is standing. The sacrifices are being offered. The priests are dressed for service. The Ark of the Covenant rests within the Most Holy Place. Nothing about the scene would suggest that YHVH has abandoned His people. In fact, everything visible would seem to say the opposite: Abba is here.
And yet something is terribly wrong.
A family brings an offering. Before the fat has even been burned for YHVH, a servant of the priest arrives and demands a portion of the meat. If the worshiper objects and asks that YHVH receive His portion first, the answer is essentially, “Give it to me now, or I will take it by force.” Nearby, the sons of Eli are using their position at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting to satisfy themselves rather than serve the people. The Tabernacle is still standing. The Ark is still there. The sacrifices are still being offered.
And YHVH is deeply displeased.
1 Samuel 2 introduces Eli’s sons with an astonishing statement: “Now Eli’s sons were scoundrels who had no regard for Adonai.” These were not outsiders attacking the sanctuary. They were priests ministering within it.
Their sin was not simply that they were imperfect men. They had begun using holy things for themselves. The Torah established what portion belonged to the priest, what belonged to the worshiper, and what was to be offered to YHVH. Hophni and Phinehas overturned that order. They took what they wanted, when they wanted it, and threatened those who resisted. 1 Samuel 2:17 summarizes the result: “The sin of these young men was very serious from Adonai’s viewpoint, because they treated offerings made to Adonai with contempt.”
Then their corruption went further. Verse 22 records that they slept with the women serving at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. The men entrusted with guarding what was holy had learned to use their proximity to holiness as an opportunity to satisfy themselves.
This is where the warning begins.
Their nearness to the Tabernacle did not make them holy. Their position as priests did not make them approved. Their continued ability to minister did not mean Abba agreed with what they were doing. Perhaps most dangerously, the fact that judgment did not fall on the first day of their rebellion gave them time to convince themselves that judgment might never come.
This is one of the most dangerous mistakes we can make in our relationship with Abba: interpreting His patience as His approval.
If I can still sense His presence, I assume everything must be fine. If He still answers prayer, I assume He must not be concerned about the condition of my heart. If He still uses me, I assume the pride cannot be that serious. If I can still worship, teach, pray, serve, hear His voice, and feel His nearness, I begin to believe that my judgment of others, my gossip, my arrogance, my unforgiveness, or the words I speak in private must not matter very much to Him.
But Shiloh tells a different story.
The Ark remained at Shiloh while Hophni and Phinehas corrupted the priesthood. Sacrifices continued while Abba was warning Eli. Samuel was hearing the voice of YHVH while judgment was already being announced against the house of Eli. Abba had not become silent; He was speaking. He had not become indifferent; He was waiting. The delay between sin and judgment was not evidence that He had changed His standard. It was the space in which repentance could have taken place.
Romans 2:4 asks, “Or perhaps you despise the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience; because you don’t realize that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to turn from your sins?”
His patience has a purpose.
Grace creates room for repentance. Pride interprets that room as permission.
And the absence of immediate judgment is not the presence of divine approval.
Eventually Israel went into battle against the P’lishtim and was defeated. Rather than asking YHVH why they had lost, the elders asked for the Ark. 1 Samuel 4:3 records their reasoning: “Let’s bring the ark for the covenant of Adonai from Shiloh to us, so that he will come among us and save us from our enemies.”
Notice the assumption: bring the Ark and He will save us. Possess the symbol of His presence and we possess the guarantee of His protection. The Ark had become evidence, in their minds, that they were safe. When it arrived in the camp, Israel shouted so loudly that the ground shook. Even the P’lishtim became afraid. Everyone recognized what the Ark represented. But the presence of the Ark did not overturn the condition of their hearts.
Israel was defeated. Hophni and Phinehas died. The Ark was captured. When Eli heard the news, he fell backward and died. Phinehas’s wife named her son Ikhavod -- “the glory has departed from Isra’el.”
The unthinkable had happened: the people who possessed the Ark were judged, and the enemies they believed could never touch it carried it away.
Scripture never gives us a detailed narrative describing the destruction of Shiloh, but later Scripture makes clear what happened to it. Psalm 78 remembers that Israel “provoked him with their high places” and “made him jealous with their idols.” Then it says YHVH “abandoned the tabernacle at Shiloh, the tent he had made where he could live among people.”
The place where YHVH had chosen to put His dwelling became a testimony to the fact that His presence cannot be used as protection from His holiness. Years became generations. Shiloh became history. Then the Temple was built in Yerushalayim. The glory filled the house. The priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud. This was the place David had longed for and Shlomo had built. YHVH placed His Name there.
And eventually another generation began making the same mistake.
Jeremiah stands at the gate of the Temple and speaks one of the most uncomfortable messages in Scripture.
Jeremiah 7:4: “Don’t rely on the deceptive words, ‘The temple of Adonai! The temple of Adonai! The temple of Adonai!’”
Why would they keep repeating this? Because the Temple had become their evidence that Yerushalayim could not fall. YHVH placed His Name here. His house, sacrifices, and priests are here. Therefore, whatever else may be wrong, surely He will protect this city.
But YHVH exposes the contradiction. They oppress. They shed innocent blood. They steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, and follow other gods. Then they come into the house bearing His Name and say they are safe. Jeremiah 7:10 describes them standing before YHVH saying, in effect, “We are saved,” while continuing the very practices He has condemned.
Their confidence was not really in YHVH. Their confidence was in their proximity to YHVH.
And that is not the same thing.
Then comes the statement that destroys their theology of immunity.
Jeremiah 7:12: “Go now to the place in Shiloh where I first caused my name to live, and see what I did to it because of the wickedness of my people Isra’el.”
Go look at Shiloh.
Do not tell Me that Yerushalayim cannot be judged because My house is here; My house was at Shiloh.
Do not tell Me that My presence among you proves My approval of you; My presence was at Shiloh.
Do not tell Me that because I have been patient, I have agreed with you; I was patient at Shiloh.
Shiloh once had the Tabernacle, the Ark, priests, sacrifices, and the voice of YHVH speaking there. And Shiloh was judged.
This should shake us.
We love the truth that Abba is close to us. We should. Yeshua tore open the way into the Most Holy Place. The Ruach HaKodesh dwells within us. We are no longer standing outside hoping to catch a glimpse of His presence. We have been invited near. But nearness carries a danger when it becomes familiarity without reverence. It is possible to become comfortable around the presence of YHVH without remaining tender before the holiness of YHVH.
We know how worship feels, how He speaks, what Scripture says, and how deep His mercy and patience run. We have watched Him forgive us repeatedly. If we are not careful, we begin to use everything we know about His kindness to excuse the things He is trying to remove from us.
We can gossip and still pray.
We can judge another person and still worship.
We can walk in pride and still feel the Ruach move.
We can harbor bitterness and still be used by Abba.
We can speak destructively about another person on Tuesday and have a beautiful encounter with Him on Wednesday.
And Wednesday’s encounter does not sanctify Tuesday’s sin.
His nearness is not evidence that repentance is unnecessary. It may be the very mercy that is giving us the opportunity to repent.
We must stop treating these three things as though they mean the same thing. Presence means Abba is near me. Patience means Abba has not yet brought the full consequence of what He is confronting. Approval means Abba agrees with the condition of my heart.
Presence and patience are not proof of approval.
Hophni and Phinehas had presence and patience. The people of Shiloh had presence and patience. Yerushalayim had presence and patience. What they did not have was permission to continue unchanged.
This is why Hebrews 12 connects discipline with sonship: “For Adonai disciplines those he loves.” A Father who loves His children does not stand silently while something destroys them. Correction is not the opposite of intimacy; correction is part of intimacy. The closer Abba brings us, the more seriously we must take holiness.
Think again about the Tabernacle itself. As you moved closer to the presence of YHVH, the requirements did not become more casual. They became more exact. The courtyard was open to many. The Holy Place was restricted. The Most Holy Place was entered by one man, on one day, under very specific conditions.
Greater intimacy did not create greater casualness. Greater intimacy demanded greater consecration.
Ezekiel 8–11 shows what happens when corruption is allowed to remain in YHVH’s house.. The corruption moved from the gate, into the courtyard, and into the inner courtyard. The people continued operating around the House of YHVH while filling it with things He hated.
Then judgment came, and YHVH said, “Begin at my sanctuary.”
The presence of YHVH in the House did not make the House immune from judgment. It made the corruption within His House more serious. Peter carries that same principle forward: “For the time has come for the judgment to begin with the household of God.”
The question is therefore not simply, “Is Abba’s Spirit in the church today?” or “Is Abba’s Spirit within me today?” The more important question is: What is His Spirit saying about the condition of His house? What is He saying about me?
Do not measure your standing with Abba by how close He feels today, whether your prayers are being answered, whether He is still using you, or whether other people respect your spiritual maturity. Measure your response to the things He has already asked you to change.
There is something incredibly merciful in Jeremiah 7:13.
Before announcing judgment YHVH says, “I spoke to you, rising up early and speaking, but you did not listen.”
He had been talking to them all along. That means the years before judgment were not years of silence. They were years of invitation: turn, listen, put this away, stop speaking that way, forgive them, humble yourself, stop judging, make this right, come closer.
We often call that season “everything is fine” because nothing catastrophic has happened. Abba may call it mercy. How many things has He been patient with in us? How many times has He touched the same wound, the same pride, the same habit of speech, the same unforgiveness, the same judgment, and invited us to surrender it? The fact that He is still speaking is not evidence that it does not matter. It is evidence that He still wants our heart.
Go look at Shiloh.
Not because Abba is looking for an excuse to destroy you, but because Abba is showing us where presumption eventually leads. The lesson of Shiloh is not that YHVH is eager to leave His people. The entire story shows the opposite. He warns. He speaks. He waits. He sends prophets. He corrects. He calls. He gives opportunity after opportunity to turn.
But His patience must never be turned into permission. His presence must never be turned into presumption. His love must never be used as an argument against His holiness.
If Abba is close today, then respond while He is close. If the Ruach is exposing pride, surrender it. If He is confronting gossip, stop speaking. If He is showing you how harshly you judge others, humble yourself. If He is uncovering bitterness, forgive. If He is putting His finger on arrogance, do not defend it.
Go all the way into the Tabernacle. Let His light expose what is hidden. Let Him circumcise your heart. Let Him remove the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. Do not stand in the courtyard pointing at the Tabernacle and saying, “He is here, so I must be fine.” Enter His presence and ask the far more important question:
“Abba, because You are here, what in me must change?”
That is what His nearness is for.