My Morning Meal

I don’t think I’d every really noticed how similar the end of Leviticus is to the end of Deuteronomy. Both books of Moses, after having laid out in explicit details the “do’s” and “don’t’s” of atoning sacrifices . . . and pleasing aromas . . . and moral imperatives . . . and ceremonial instructions . . . and social parameters . . . at the end of it all comes some pretty simple, but very directed, “straight talk.” “Walk in my statutes, observe my commandments and do them,” says the LORD, “and you will know blessing and I will make My dwelling among you” (Lev. 26:3, 11). “But if you will not listen to me and will not do my commandments . . . I will set My face against you . . . I will discipline you” (Lev. 26:14, 17a, 18a). How clear is that? . . . pretty!

These were the rules of engagement . . . twenty-five chapters worth in my English Bible . . . do it, and it’s good . . . don’t do it . . . mmm, not so good. How do a not-so-holy people live in the presence of a holy God? . . . follow the rules for atonement . . . over and over and over again . . . bring lots of animals. How do the seed of Adam, fallen in nature, live with each other? . . . follow the rules for community conduct . . . try to repress the sin nature . . . power up the self-will and self-discipline . . . and, when you fail, bring lots of animals. Keep trying . . . resolve to keep the commandments . . . bring lots of animals . . . and know the blessing of the Lord. I’m way over-simplifying, but I think, in essence, that’s kind of how it worked.

The alternative was to quit trying . . . to not worship in the prescribed way . . . to live for self and reject the rules of neighborly conduct . . . to not honor God as God alone but to look to the nations for cues on how to seek the favor of deities. And for those who chose to walk in a different way . . . to offer unauthorized fire . . . God would discipline them sevenfold for their sins (26:18, 21, 24, 28). To say sin would lead from things going from bad to worse to catastrophic is understating it. God doing what would be necessary to bring His people to confession of sin (26:40), to a humbling of their uncircumcised heart (26:41) . . . in order to remember His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (26:42, 44-45).

And so, concludes Leviticus, “these are the statutes and rules and laws that the LORD made between Himself and the people of Israel through Moses on Mount Sinai” (Lev. 26:46, 27:34).

Oh, to be sure, there is much in this “rule book” that I would do well to heed. Moral commandments as relevant today as they were then, for my God is an unchanging, holy God. There is much to be learned from the principles surrounding the need for uncleanness to be dealt with in order to know God in the midst. And there is depth of understanding concerning the work of Christ on the cross to be gained through appreciating the nuances of the different sacrifices brought to the altar . . . all Scripture being God-breathed and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness (2Tim. 3:16)

But at the end of the day, I can’t help but praise God that, as said so well by Matthew Henry, “we are not under the heavy yoke of the law . . . a yoke which neither they nor their fathers were able to bear (Acts 15:10), but under the sweet and easy institutions of the gospel, which pronounces those the true worshippers that worship the Father in spirit and truth, by Christ only, and in His name, who is our priest, temple, altar, sacrifice, purification, and all.”

Not that obedience isn’t necessary . . . not that worshipping in the simplicity of spirit and truth will be easy . . . but . . . I don’t need to bring lots of animals.

Jesus paid it all . . . His shed blood sufficient for all my sin . . . past, present, and future. And through faith in Him, I have received a new nature, subject not to the taskmaster of the law but to the leading of the Spirit of Christ in me . . . such that His yoke is easy and “the burden” of obedience is light (Matt. 11:29-30) . . . He being the enabling power within me to be holy as God is holy. Oh praise God for the gospel . . . praise God for His Son . . . and praise God . . . no need for any animals.

Hovering over Leviticus 16 this morning . . . The Day of Atonement . . . Yom Kippur . . . the one day a year when the high priest enters the Most Holy Place with sacrificial blood to make atonement for himself and the people. A lot here . . . needed some help from one of my commentaries to help me get clear on the order of events. But one thing I didn’t need a lot of help with was noticing the two goats.

Along with the bull to be offered as a sin offering, Aaron also brought two goats. One of the goats was “for the Lord” and the other for “Azazel” (16:8). Only the ESV and MSG use the literal Hebrew term “Azazel” . . . other translations say “the scapegoat.” One of the goats was to be used as a sin offering . . . to be killed and its blood brought into the tabernacle, into the Most Holy Place and sprinkled on the mercy seat and in front of the mercy seat (16:15). The other goat was presented alive . . . Aaron laying his hands on “Azazel”, the scapegoat, and confessing over it all the iniquities of the people . . . all the transgressions of their sins. He put on the head of the goat all their sin and then the goat was led out . . . to bear all their iniquities on itself in a remote area . . . to carry their sin into the wilderness (16:20-22).

One goat, though its death, dealt with the problem of the unclean amidst the holy . . . the two being mutually exclusive. And so, atonement was made . . . the way for the high priest to continue ministering on behalf of the people was secured . . . through the blood. In a sense, access to the holy was secured for another year because blood was shed and applied. In like manner, Jesus “entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of His own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption” (Heb. 9:12). And, through the blood of Jesus, I have confidence to enter boldly into the Holy of Holies, into the presence of God (Heb. 10:19). The blood of Jesus, the once for all sacrifice, having forever made clean the unclean so that I might know unfettered access to God . . . having prepared the way for me to “draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience” (Heb. 10:22). O, praise God for cleansing! Praise Him for a way into the most holy . . . that I might have opportunity to behold the glory.

But, having the way “made open” was only part of the deal . . . the “baggage” of sin was not permitted. That needed to be left at the door . . . more yet, it needs to be put away . . . far, far away. Thus the scapegoat. Place the sin on the head of the other goat . . . send that goat into the wilderness . . . let it bear the sin to a place of no return. And in this picture, I can’t help but be moved as I consider that Jesus was not only my blood sacrifice . . . but also my “Azazel” . . . my scapegoat.

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29) The Lamb of God was the scapegoat, the One who takes way my sin. The perfect, spotless, Son of God allowed me, as it were, to place my hands upon Him and convey my sin to Him. “For He (God) made Him (Jesus) who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2Cor. 5:21 NKJV).

Isaiah prophesied of the lowly Servant of God who would fulfill the role of “Azazel” . . . “He shall bear their iniquities” (Isa. 53:11) . . . “He bore the sin of many” (Isa. 53:12). Peter knew what it was to have the baggage of sin removed, “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed” (1Peter 2:24). Through death He carried my sins to a remote wilderness . . . “as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12). Gone . . . gone . . . gone . . . gone . . . all my sins are gone!!!

A way made into the Holy of Holies . . . and a means to check all my baggage at the door . . . to have it forever removed . . . to never be picked up again.

Hallelujah! What a Savior! Amen?

What were they thinking! Was it arrogance to the highest degree? . . . or was it an “in the moment” lack of judgment? We don’t know specifically . . . we can only speculate. What we do know, however, is that it was a big deal! A really big deal! So big it cost them their lives . . . putting the ultimate damper on the “opening ceremonies” of the tent of meeting and the priesthood of Aaron & Sons.

“Now Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, each took his censer and put fire in it and laid incense on it and offered unauthorized fire before the LORD, which he had not commanded them. And fire came out from before the LORD and consumed them, and they died before the LORD.” (Leviticus 10:1-2 ESV)

After chapters of meticulous instruction . . . after days of commissioning the priesthood instituted of God “as the Lord commanded Moses” (a phrase found repeatedly in Leviticus 8 and 9) . . . after the glory of the Lord appears to all the people and they go facedown in worship (9:23b-24) . . . these sons of Aaron decide to “wing it” . . . and, quickly and permanently their wings are clipped! And you can’t help but ask, “How come?” How did they conceive of such an idea . . . where did the thought originate for their own “new and improved” offering? And why did God react so strongly? A bit over the top, perhaps? Apparently not.

And so these questions are kind of going through my mind as I continue to read in Leviticus 10 . . . and then I hit verse 8. Apparently this is the only time that God speaks directly to Aaron instead of through Moses. It’s the only time God goes one-on-one with the man he has called to be high priest . . . to be the presence of the people before Him . . . to be the mediator of atoning sacrifice . . . to approach the Holy of holies. And what does God say to Aaron during this once in a lifetime direct encounter? “Drink no wine or strong drink, you or your sons with you, when you go into the tent of meeting, lest you die. It shall be a statute forever throughout your generations.”

Were Nadab and Abihu impaired? Had they “taken a nip or two” to steady their nerves on this big, big day of their ordination? Or, had the party like atmosphere tempted them to “party before going to work?” We don’t know. But you gotta ask yourself why this extraordinary God-to-man commandment is made at this point. You can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection between intoxicating drink, censers of smoldering, incensed laced fire lying on the ground, and two dead guys.

And it’s not, “You shall not drink” . . . it’s you shall not drink when you go into the tent of meeting . . . when you enter My presence . . . when you minister on My behalf. And God clearly spells out the reason why . . . “You are to distinguish between the holy and the common, and between the unclean and the clean, and you are to teach the people of Israel all the statutes that the LORD has spoken to them by Moses.” (10:10-11). It seems to me that God’s chat with Aaron was all about avoiding that which confused one’s ability to distinguish the holy and unholy . . . to stay away from stuff that caused carelessness in how holy ground was being trod . . . to say “No” to mind-dulling substances or influences when abiding in the presence of God. And, for Aaron, the absence of two sons would be a reminder of just how serious God was about such things.

So what? What’s the lesson for me . . . how does this apply in my life? Although I have personally seen and interacted with way too much of the destructive aftermath of alcohol and think it would be best if people “didn’t play with that fire” . . . Leviticus 10:9 is not the “proof verse” for saying Christians shouldn’t “partake.” But this passage is a sober (no pun intended) reminder of the care with which we should approach our high and holy calling as the people of God . . . our calling as “a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1Peter 2:5). I should be careful of anything, not just “strong drink”, that would impair my ability to distinguish the holy from the common . . . of that which would dull the Spirit’s voice and leave me vulnerable to embracing that which is “unclean” as if it were “clean”. My God is holy . . . and those who are His are to be holy (1Peter 1:15-16) . . . to not carelessly “wing it” and offer up whatever sacrifice seems appropriate in our eyes . . . especially if those eyes are clouded by being “under the influence” . . . of strong drink or, of this world.

Oh, that I would not “wing it” . . . but would enter the holy place with care . . . for His glory . . . amen.

Started in on Leviticus this morning. A lot of “pleasing aroma to the Lord” here with all the different offerings. “Pleasing”, I think, because at its essence is atonement and worship. In the array of Levitical offerings there is a way for man to acknowledge his sin before a Holy God and a way for a Holy God to own as His own, a people entangled by a fallen nature. In the offerings there is a way for men of earth to bring before the God of heaven their acknowledgment that He alone is worthy of sacrifice . . . that He alone is worth the price of bulls and goats and grain, such that they would know His abiding presence. And this morning, I encountered a term in one of the offerings that I don’t think I’ve noticed before . . .

“You shall season all your grain offerings with salt. You shall not let the salt of the covenant with your God be missing from your grain offering; with all your offerings you shall offer salt.” (Leviticus 2:13)

Now, if you had asked me what was NOT to part of the offering, I would have known that answer to be leaven. But, ask me what must not be missing . . . uh, I don’t think I would have gotten salt. But, I got to admit . . . if I liked the flavor adding aspect of salt before . . . I’m liking it a bit more now. I don’t think our offerings can ever get too salty.

It is referred to here as “the salt of the covenant,” thus linking salt to the eternal promises of God to those He would own as His people. A reference to the covenant made with Abraham and then ratified with Isaac and Jacob . . . the promise to make them into a great nation and a source of great blessing to all “the families of the earth” (Gen. 12:3). And as I think about it, what a wonderful dimension this adds to bringing offerings before God . . . that within them, there is a reminder of God’s promises to men.

Salt is a preservative . . . purifying and preventing decay . . . and, it adds taste. And so in the offerings there is this “secret sauce” . . . a subtle, underlying flavor . . . an active, purifying agent . . . founded in the promises of God. Every offering having the potential to act as a reminder of God’s faithful covenant to His people. As the grain offering was prepared the salt would be mixed in and with it a recollection of God’s steadfast and unmovable word.

It comes to mind that Paul would tell the Galatians that, as believers, we are “children of promise” (Gal. 4:28) . . . and so shouldn’t there also be a bit of salt in our offerings?

Now, I’m pretty thankful that I’m not living at time where part of my regular routine is taking “Lamb Chop” to be sliced and diced and burned on an altar. When I’m not required to grab ol’ Bessy from the back forty and haul her off to be bled out, splayed, and made an offering by fire. But I do have my own “pleasing aroma” to offer to the Lord. I’m to “continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge His name” (Heb. 13:15) . . . not just Sunday morning worship, but lips that confess His lordship and desire to walk in a manner worthy of His calling. That confession then giving way to the other offering I’m called to make, presenting my body “as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Rom. 12:1). And whether it be the fruit of my lips . . . or the offering of my life . . . both, I think, are enhanced with meaning when they are seasoned with the salt of the covenant . . . when they are flavored with the reminder of His sovereign determination to love me and provide the way for me to love Him.

Oh, to bring the promises of God more regularly into my worship. To call to remembrance the covenant of God when “presenting my body” becomes difficult and I have second thoughts and perhaps consider holding something back. The salt of the covenant will preserve . . . will purify . . . and, praise God, will spice things up a bit. Can I add too much salt? I’m thinkin’ not! Never too salty . . .