In the introduction to this book, Max Lucado says it’s like being given a field, but to get the deed transferred, you have to get the rocks out of the field. It turns out to be an impossible task. Once you admit that, you’re given a field with the rocks already removed.
Leviticus is about holiness, and our inability to ever achieve it on our own.
I think it would be great for every Christian to have to offer a whole burnt offering once in their lives – to have to pay for the finest bull, then take it to the Temple and go through the procedures described here. To see it standing there trustingly beside us … to place our hand on its head, understanding that God is placing our sin upon it … Then to have to kill it ourselves and watch as the priests collect the blood and sprinkle it on the sides of the altar, seeing the spots of blood – representing our sin – desecrating the beauty of that altar. Then we’d have to skin the animal and butcher it, watching as the priest laid the head, the fat, and other pieces on the wood in the fire. Then the bad part – we’d have to wash the inner organs with water, along with the animal’s groin area, before these parts were also added to the fire.
It would be enough to have to do that ourselves. But then what if we were fourth in line, or 500th? To have to watch, and smell, and hear it all?
I think about the look on the priest’s face. You’d think it would be one of reverence and helpfulness, much like that of a pastor’s during an invitation. But this is a dirty job, and it never ends. The first time he places an animal’s head on an altar, he probably feels that. But what about 3 years into the job, and after seeing the same person each year having to make this atonement for his sin? Would he still feel the same? Or would he feel more like a butcher at a grocery store? Would there be any reverence left as the next head gets laid on the fire, or is he looking at how many people are left in line before he can go home? And when he sees the repeat customer, does he want to tell him to stop sinning so much that he has to return so often?
I think after the third or fourth time that I brought an offering and went through these procedures, I’d feel pretty hopeless. I’d see that it wasn’t producing holiness in me. Instead, it was only highlighting my own sinfulness and inability to obey God. I’d see that I needed more. I’d need a Savior.
Father, it might indeed be good for us to have to see the waste that our sin causes and the death that sin brings with it. But I wouldn’t like the hopelessness that would follow. Thanks for sending me a Savior. Thanks for offering the perfect sacrifice in Your own Son. I’m totally unworthy, but I’m infinitely grateful.
Your Brother In Christ,
Gary Ford