Leviticus 1–3

In Exodus 19:3, God called Moses "out of the mountain," but here in Leviticus it is "out of the tabernacle." The first time, God was speaking as a ruler; here He is speaking in grace. His people had failed when He spoke from the mountain. So God brought in a system that worked through a mediator, one that could meet that failure and let Him stay with His people in the dwelling.

The tabernacle was God's dwelling place, in grace. He could make His home there, because everything around Him showed clearly the ground of His relationship with the people. Suppose He had come among them in the full display of the character He revealed on Mount Sinai. It could only have been to "consume them in a moment," for they were a stiff-necked people. But He withdrew behind the veil — a picture of Christ's flesh (Heb. 10:20) — and took His place on the mercy seat. There the blood of atonement, and not the stubbornness of Israel, met His view and satisfied the claims of His nature.

Until God settled His people in the rest of the kingdom, a tent was all He would use; but that was the tent of meeting — not merely where Israel was to meet, but where God was to meet them. It was also called the tabernacle of testimony. In its innermost room lay the ark, holding the tablets that bore witness to what God required from man.

We can see how rightly Leviticus has been called "the priest's instruction-book." So this is not the solemn voice of God from Sinai. Instead, "Jehovah called to Moses and spoke to him out of the tabernacle of the congregation." He is among a people already recognised as His, and He is telling them the proper way to approach Him.

The first verse is significant of the character of the whole book of Leviticus. The Lord speaks to Moses from the tabernacle, His place of dwelling among the people. If we are to approach Him, it must be where He is, and on His terms.

Notice, too, where God begins. He does not begin with what touches the sinner's need most closely. He begins with the display of perfection that satisfied His own heart: Jesus giving Himself, at all cost, to God's will, to death, even the death of the cross. In other words, whatever blessing may come to the sinner, God begins with His Son giving Himself up without spot, so that God might be glorified.

The opening verses of Leviticus solemnly declare that the words contained in this book are the very words of Jehovah… No other book of the Bible puts such stress on Jehovah speaking, and nowhere else do we find it repeated so often. Twenty-four times comes the divine command, "speak to the children of Israel" — "speak to Aaron." The phrase "the LORD spoke" appears thirty-six times. Twenty-one times the One speaking says, "I am the LORD."

From the New Testament house, the Spirit speaks in the same way, as soon as He has entered it. Through the vessels which He had now filled, He speaks — as the Lord God of old had spoken from the tabernacle of the congregation. But here is the contrast. He speaks of "the wonderful works of God." It is not again about what God required of man, either as a worshipper or a confessor, as when the Lord had spoken from the former house. It is about what God had already done for man.

In Exodus 19:3, God called Moses "out of the mountain." Here in Leviticus it is "out of the tabernacle." The first time, God was speaking in government. Here He is speaking in grace. His people had failed with regard to the speaking from the mountain. So God brought in a system with a mediator, by which the failure could be met. That way He was able to remain with His people in the dwelling.

It was not grace only, though most fully so; it was on a basis of righteousness. The Passover and the crossing of the Red Sea were the pictures of redemption... God from then on could be their God and dwell among them. Out of that dwelling, the tent of meeting, He can and does speak words of grace and blessing.

The main thought here is that everything goes up as a restful, pleasing aroma to God, who is therefore glorified in it. So in the burnt offering of this chapter... no question of compulsion enters. The offering was in no way wrung out of Israel. As we see in the words of our blessed Lord, no one took His life from Him; He laid it down of Himself... but there was no demand.

It was not compulsory, as the sin offering was. The word "offering" in verse 2 translates "Corban," which the Lord referred to in Mark 7:11. It means a voluntary offering. A man might leave it unbrought — or use it as a hypocritical excuse for avoiding his duty to aged parents.

This burnt offering was open to every Israelite, from the least to the greatest. God addressed His words to every person in the camp. He then told them what kind of offering He would accept from their hands. A wild animal — a lion or a wolf, for example — was never brought as a sacrifice to God. The reason is that what it pictures is not the fallen nature of man, but the perfect Manhood of our Lord Jesus Christ. So the animals were to be of the herd or of the flock. These were tame animals, made subject to the will of man, just as the Son of God moved through this world subject to the will of God.

Bringing a sheep or a goat does not seem to point to poverty; we get no hint of that here. It speaks rather of the various ways the saints grasp the varied glories of Christ. Every action of His pleased the Father, even when He was upon the cross. Would it not be good for us if we had a fuller grasp of all that came to light in Him for the glory of God? We would not then be limited in what we understand. We could come to God with richer thoughts of Christ.

The steer, which the offerer brought near as an offering, pictured the perfectness of Christ. He gave Himself up to death in love and for the glory of God. He held nothing back as He surrendered His life, yet He did it in obedience. That is the plainest contrast with Adam, who forfeited his life by disobedience.

The burnt offering stands first, because it shows how a sinner by nature can be accepted before a holy God on the ground of sacrifice. Here is a sinner far from God, cut off from Him by wicked works. He hates God in his heart. He has a rebellious will and is full of sin. Yet that sinner could be accepted before God, on the ground of the value, in His eyes, of the sacrifice of Christ.

The burnt offering comes first, because this gives the most important aspect of the sacrifice of Christ. If someone wanted to offer a burnt sacrifice from the herd, it had to be a male without blemish. It had to be a male because the burnt offering is entirely for God: all was to be offered in fire to the Lord. It was in no way about the offerer himself, for he has no part in the offering, as was true in the peace offering, which could be either male or female. The words in verse 3, "of his own free will," are rightly rendered "that he may be accepted."

The unblemished male was a type of the Lord Jesus Christ offering Himself for the perfect accomplishment of the will of God. Nothing about it should suggest weakness or imperfection... When we come to the other offerings, we will see that a female was allowed in some cases. But that only showed the imperfection in the worshipper's grasp of things. It showed no defect in the offering, since it was unblemished in the one case as in the other. Here it was an offering of the very highest order, because it was Christ offering Himself to God. Christ, in the burnt offering, was exclusively for the eye and heart of God.

"A continual burnt offering... at the entrance of the tent of meeting before the LORD, where I will meet with you, to speak to you there. And there I will meet with the people of Israel." So when a person offered a burnt offering, he offered it at the entrance of the tent of meeting before the LORD. He killed the bull there, and the blood was sprinkled on the altar by that entrance. They came up to the LORD there, instead of offering it where they pleased, away from Him. And the law carefully secured this as a guard against idolatry.

The man who brought it put his hand on its head. He identified himself with the offering, and he was told, "It shall be accepted for you." In the same way, the one who now comes to God by the one offering of Christ is accepted in all the acceptance of Christ Himself. Precious truth for our souls! But in the burnt offering, notice, no one had a part with God. It is the entire surrender of Jesus to God.

The use of the word "voluntary" here brings out very clearly the grand idea in the burnt offerings... We are too apt to see the cross only as the place where the great question of sin was faced and settled between eternal Justice and the spotless victim. We see it as the place where our guilt was atoned for and Satan gloriously defeated... The cross was all this. But it was more than this. It was the place where Christ's love to the Father was told out in language which only the Father could hear and understand.

For Christ, the act of offering Himself as a sacrifice is His own alone — "through the eternal Spirit He offered Himself without blemish to God." We did not offer Him. He was both the offerer and the victim. But when we have the Spirit of Christ, we enter into the value of the act as though we laid our hands on Him... If we had only seen the fact of Christ's death, we might have thought He needed it for Himself. But He is first shown to us as the willing offering, bringing Himself to the door of the tent of meeting.

In verse 4 we learn how the perfection of the offering passed to the offerer. The word translated "lay his hand on" means "to lean upon" in the original language. In Scripture, laying on of hands means identification. Here the offerer is fully identified with the offering, so everything true of the offering becomes true of the person who offers it.

In both the burnt offering and the sin offering, laying on of hands showed the close connection between the offerer and the offering. But its meaning in each was very different. With the sin offering, the offering took over, in picture, all the blame and all the sinfulness of the offerer. With the burnt offering, the offerer took over, in picture, all the worth and excellence of the sacrifice.

That action means the offerer was identified with all the value of the sacrifice. If God accepted the sacrifice, He accepted the man who brought it. If God rejected the sacrifice, He rejected the man too. If God found the sacrifice a sweet aroma and delighted in it, He found the same delight in the man who came with it... As we read, "And it shall be accepted for him" — that is, instead of him... Rather than standing before God with our sins and our hatred of Him, rather than our disobedience and our lack of devotion, we are accepted according to all the value of that work on the cross.

Of the burnt offering, and of no other, it is beautifully said, "he shall offer it for his acceptance!" In the sin offering, wrath was spent to the full, and that could put away his sin. He might be free from every charge on that account. As wonderful as that is, it is not all that God has for us in what He calls "acceptance." Acceptance is not a mere negative — nothing against us. It is identification with the glorious perfection of that obedience to death.

This speaks of identification: "and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him." We do not have to look far in the New Testament for the answer to this. Ephesians 1:6 says, "He has made us accepted in the Beloved" (older translation). John also writes in his letter, "as He is, so also are we in this world" (1 John 4:17)... everything true of Christ as Man at the right hand of God is true also of all who have laid their hands on Him, identifying themselves with Him by faith.

From Leviticus 1 we find that the burnt offering was to make atonement, but only in a general way. It did not carry the special solemnity of the great Day of Atonement. When an Israelite brought an offering out of a full heart, to express how much he depended on the goodness of God, it always had an atoning character. God could not accept an offering without blood to make atonement. Neither the true God nor faith makes light of sin.

He did not bring it because he had sinned. Even so, he was reminded of his need of atonement. He was a sinner, and he could not come to God's altar without admitting his own need of the atoning death of Christ. On the other hand, he did not leave the altar without the LORD's assurance that the burnt sacrifice was accepted to make atonement for him (v. 4).

When we study the doctrine of the burnt offering, we must keep one thing in mind. The main point set out in it is not the meeting of the sinner's need. It is the presentation to God of what was infinitely acceptable to Him. Christ, as foreshadowed by the burnt offering, is not for the sinner's conscience, but for the heart of God. Further, in the burnt offering the cross does not display how hateful sin is. It displays Christ's unshaken and unshakable devotion to the Father.

The words "before the LORD" would show that the offerer knew that what he was doing was for the pleasure of the LORD. He knew that God's eyes were on this offering, and that God was finding His delight in this foreshadowing of His well-beloved Son… The altar represents the claims of God. Sprinkling the blood on the altar shows that every claim of God has been met, and that God is satisfied for ever with the work of our Lord Jesus Christ. When we come to the sin offering, we shall see that the blood was also poured out at the bottom of the altar. But there it was on our account. There is no instruction to pour out the blood of the burnt offering at the bottom of the altar.

Some have thought this: since Christ is both offerer and victim, the offerer killing the victim speaks of Christ laying down His own life for men. It seems, however, as if in that case it should be the priest rather than the offerer. For a man who brings a substitute victim to make atonement for himself can hardly be a picture of Christ at the same time. Rather, it would seem that in this act the offerer confesses that he needs death for atonement. The priest then takes that up and displays it in its relation to God. He is the mediator, the one who can draw near to God for others.

Here we have a picture of the Church. It brings the memorial of a finished sacrifice and presents it in the place where an individual draws near to God. But we must remember, it is the blood of the burnt offering, and not of the sin offering… "Aaron's sons" do not represent convicted sinners, but worshipping saints. It is as "priests" that they have to do with the burnt offering… To be taken up with my guilt in the presence of God is not humility about myself. It is unbelief about the sacrifice.

This sprinkling of the blood is a testimony to the finished work, and it is for the eye of God. It is just like the Passover blood, about which He said, "When I see the blood, I will pass over you." If it is the blood that makes atonement for the soul, then that blood must be presented to God, since the atonement was made to Him. It is not here put on the person… but wherever put, the blood is for God.

God is showing us that from whatever angle we might consider approach to Him, the blood of sprinkling was necessary. God will not have us before Him in communion or as worshippers unless it is on the ground of atonement.

The act of "flaying" said a great deal. It was simply the removal of the outer covering, so that everything inside came into view. It was not enough for the offering to look "without blemish" on the outside. The hidden parts had to be shown too, so that every sinew and every joint could be seen. Only the burnt offering has this action named. That fits, and it shows the depth of Christ's devotedness to the Father. It was no mere surface-work with Him. The secrets of His inner life were opened up. The depths of His being were searched. The more this happened, the more clearly it showed that pure devotion to His Father's will and an earnest desire for His glory were the springs of all He did.

This action teaches much the same truth as the "sweet incense beaten small" (Lev. 16). The Holy Spirit delights to dwell on the sweetness and fragrance of the sacrifice of Christ, not only as a whole, but also in all its smallest details. Look at the burnt offering as a whole, and you see it without blemish. Look at it in all its parts, and you see the same. Such was Christ.

The animal is flayed and its outer covering removed. In the same way, our Lord's inmost motives lay open before the holy eye of God at His cross. The pieces were then laid in order on the altar. There was to be no confusion here. The head, the fat, the inwards, the legs, were all distinguished from one another. The sacrifice was divided into its parts. Nothing was to be mutilated — "not one of His bones will be broken" — yet everything was kept distinct. The head stands for the thoughts, which were only thoughts of obedience. The legs stand for the walk. The inwards stand for the affections, desires and secret motives. God saw and knew them all, and in every area of our Lord's life He found only what perfectly glorified His every attribute.

Compare the peace offering with the burnt offering. The threefold action of "flaying," "cutting it into its pieces," and "washing the inwards and legs" is left out altogether, and that fits. In the burnt offering, Christ offers Himself to God, and God accepts Him. So two things had to be pictured: how complete His self-surrender was, and the searching process He put Himself through. In the peace offering, the leading thought is the communion of the worshipper, so the whole line of action is less intense. No heart, however great its love, could rise to the height of Christ's devotedness to God, or of God's acceptance of Christ. So a picture was needed to show that one feature of Christ's death — His perfect devotedness in it to God. We have that picture in the burnt offering, and there alone we see this threefold action.

After the blood-sprinkling comes the flaying of the offering, whose skin, as we learn later (Lev. 7:8), belongs to the priest who offers it. Christ is clearly the One pictured by this sacrificing priest. So we learn whose hand gives us the covering that puts away the shame of our nakedness forever. It is the skin of the burnt offering, not the sin offering. It is not true that Christ's death merely puts away our sins: it supplies (though not by itself) the "best robe" for the Father's house.

These detailed instructions remind us that we need to work through these things spiritually and to understand something of the deep perfections of Christ. Only God knows them fully. But what a privilege that we can appreciate them a little and share God's pleasure in His beloved Son... The priests carried out all the rest of the instructions. Remember that in Peter's first letter every believer is a priest as well as an offerer.

The offerer, not the priest, presented the victim at the entrance of the tent of meeting, or at the bronze altar (v. 3). It was he too who laid his hand on the head of the burnt offering (v. 4). This meant identification by grace with the offering. The acceptance of the whole burnt offering passed to the offerer... After the animal was killed, the priests' own work began. They sprinkled the blood all around the altar (v. 5). It was theirs too to put fire on the altar and lay wood to feed it (vv. 7, 8).

Everything was then burnt with fire on the altar. The fire of divine holiness consumed the sacrifice completely. So our Lord did not merely present Himself to God. In His death the fire of righteous judgment consumed all. All went up in eternal fragrance to God. It declared forever that His beloved Son had in Him nothing at all that did not perfectly glorify infinite holiness, righteousness, wisdom, truth and love.

We must keep this testing by fire separate from what some confuse it with — the judgment due to sin... To be consistent, the burning of the incense would then have to picture judgment too. But who could miss how out of place that is?... In a word, if anything is clear in these types, it is that the altar-fire must have another meaning.

We learn this from the fire that was always burning on the bronze altar (Lev. 6:12-13). There was special warning about "strange fire." The one fire was the fire on this bronze altar. It is a picture of the divine holiness and righteousness that consumed the perfect Sacrifice, Christ, on the cross. All else is "strange fire" (Lev. 10:1). This fire on the bronze altar came out from before the Lord and consumed the sacrifice (Lev. 9:24). This shows the blasphemy of Nadab and Abihu who, right after that display, despised the holy fire and took fire of their own kindling to offer incense.

Their actions are very prominent. They mark out the burnt offering from the sin offering, where Aaron's sons are not mentioned at all. "The sons of Aaron" represent the church, not as "one body," but as a priestly house... Now the church, led and taught by the Holy Spirit, has the privilege of gazing at this side of Christ and delighting in it. It is the side of Him shown in this first picture in Leviticus.

This was a high position for the priestly family. The burnt offering was wholly offered to God. It was all burnt on the altar, and no one ate any of it. But the sons of Aaron the priest were priests themselves. Here we see them standing around the altar of God, watching the flame of an acceptable sacrifice rise to Him — a sweet-smelling odour... As convicted sinners we stand at the bronze altar and find peace through the blood of atonement. As priests we stand there to see and admire the completeness of that burnt offering.

Every morning the priest was to burn wood on the fire of the altar and set the burnt offering in order on it. On it he was also to burn the fat of the peace offerings. And the law ends with the fire burning always on the altar; it was never to be put out. Could any picture point more strongly to an acceptance that is kept up, with an unchanging savour of rest before the Lord?

The first two pieces about which instruction is given are "the head, and the fat" (v. 8). It is striking that this word for "fat" is used only of the burnt offering, and the concordance gives it as "suet." It would speak of the excellence of the offering, and so of the energy of our Lord in doing the will of God. The head would speak of intelligence. Who but He could have known what that will involved? And who but He could have carried it out with such devotion and energy? So the head and the fat are placed together; the Lord Jesus knew what that will was, and knowing it, He did it. "I always do the things that are pleasing to him" (John 8:29).

"And cut it into its pieces." This action teaches much the same truth as the "sweet incense beaten small" (Lev. 16). The Holy Spirit delights to dwell on the sweetness and fragrance of the sacrifice of Christ, not only as a whole, but also in all its smallest details. Look at the burnt offering as a whole, and you see it without blemish. Look at it in all its parts, and you see it is the same. Such was Christ; and as such He is foreshadowed in this important type.

The wood suggests the Manhood of our Lord — the human nature He entered so that He could die. We read that when Abraham took Isaac to offer him up, he laid the wood "on Isaac his son" (Gen. 22:6). This was a foreshadowing of the Son of God coming into Manhood so that He could die.

The fire was the fire from heaven. It is not, as is often taken here, the symbol of Divine wrath consuming the sacrifice, but it has another meaning. It is the figure of God's perfect delight in the devotion of His ever blessed Son. God rested in Christ and found His fullest satisfaction in Him. The Hebrew has different words for burning. The one used here is the same as the one used for the burning of incense. This in itself shows that it has no connection with wrath.

All were laid on the altar, and subjected to the fire — the searching judgment of God. The offering was clean in ceremony, because it was washed in water. The Lord Jesus was clean in His very nature. The fire of divine judgment searched Him inside and out. It tested His motives and the springs of His actions, as well as His walk and His ways. The result was that all went up to God as a sweet savour.

This was a high position for the priestly family. The burnt offering was wholly offered to God. It was all burnt on the altar, and no one ate any of it. But the sons of Aaron the priest were priests themselves. They are here seen standing round the altar of God, watching the flame of an acceptable sacrifice go up to Him — an odour of sweet smell. This was a high position — high communion — a high order of priestly service. It is a striking picture of the Church in fellowship with God over the perfect carrying out of His will in the death of Christ. As convicted sinners, we stand at the bronze altar and find peace through the blood of atonement. But as priests, we stand there to admire the completeness of that burnt offering.

The washing made the sacrifice, in type, what Christ was in Himself — pure inside and pure outside. Christ's inward motives and His outward conduct matched perfectly. His conduct showed exactly what was inside Him. It all pointed to one thing: the glory of God.

In Leviticus 1:9 we see that the priest washed the inner parts and the legs of the animal with water. This type must match the reality still to come — the offering of Christ to God in perfect purity. He who offered Himself as a sweet-smelling offering was holiness itself, and He had no need of washing. But the type had to be washed, to show the perfection of the offering of Christ.

It was all pure in type, and all meant only as food for the altar of God. The priest ate part of some sacrifices, and the offerer ate part of others; but the burnt offering was "all" burned on the altar. It was for God alone. The priests might lay out the wood and the fire, and watch the flame rise, and that was a high and holy privilege. But they did not eat of the sacrifice. God alone was the object of Christ, in the burnt offering aspect of His death.

The burnt offering was "a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the LORD" (Lev. 1:9). The more the fire searched it, the more its sweetness came out before God. So it was with Christ. The fire of God's holiness came down and tested and searched everything inside Him, and it only brought out a "pleasing aroma" to God. This too is our acceptance; it is in this value that we ascend up to God.

The skin is taken off the burnt offering, and it is cut into its parts. All of it lies open to the light of heaven, and then to the flame of the altar. The word for burning here is not the word for ordinary burning. It means smoking like incense: all of it goes up, not as the smoke of judgment, but as pure sweet fragrance.

The sin offering cleared away the guilt of the one who brought the sacrifice. His sins counted as transferred to the animal, so they were gone. But the man himself stayed as he was before — neither better nor worse — except that the sins he had committed were now gone. When he brought a burnt offering for his acceptance, he stood before God in all its positive value. That value is what these words carry: "a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the LORD." The order was always the same: first the sin offering, by which guilt was taken away; then the burnt offering, by which the offerer was given, before God, all the acceptance of Christ.

The poor man's bird spoke to God of the death of His Son as sweetly as the rich man's bullock did. At God's altar the offerer was accepted, not according to his understanding of the death of Christ, but according to God's estimate of it. It would be a poor thing indeed if we were accepted according to our understanding of that death.

The three classes of burnt offerings come in a descending scale. The rich man might bring his bullock, the man of medium means his sheep, the poor man his young pigeon. Yet each of the three was a burnt offering, and in each case God accepted the offerer. These variations picture no greater or lesser acceptance, but a greater or lesser grasp on the part of the offerer.

A burnt offering could be a sheep or a goat. The bull was larger and stronger. It reminds us that some recognise the great value of the sacrifice of Christ more fully than others do. It speaks of the strength of the offering. The sheep denotes the submission of Christ, and the goat His substitution.

No doubt we know the sheep side of our Lord's work well, especially the Lamb of God. But we hear only a few mentions of the goat. Yet in Exodus, chapter 12, we read that the Passover could have been either a sheep or a goat (v. 5). This side of our Lord's work seems to have mostly slipped from our teaching, yet the Scriptures point to it time after time. The sheep would picture the willingness of the Lord Jesus to die. The goat would speak of the Lord as having the ability to die in this way.

The offering was to be a male, suggesting headship, responsibility and strength. It was to be in its first year, full of vigour, with no sign of decay or hardness. It was to be "without blemish," because anything that pictures the Son of God must stress His absolute and inherent holiness.

The highest grade was the ox. The grades that followed were the sheep and the goat. This was for when the offerer was poor and could not bring the costlier ox. It also represents the faith of the offerer. Yet a lower faith and estimate of Christ, one that falls short of the highest view, does not change whether God accepts the offerer.

Bringing a sheep or a goat does not seem to point to poverty; we get no suggestion of that here. It speaks instead of the different ways believers grasp the many glories of the One whose every action pleased the Father, even on the cross. Would it not be well for us if we had a fuller grasp of all that came to light in Him for the glory of God?

Each of these burnt offerings spoke of that surrender to death of the Lord Jesus Christ, which is so precious to God (John 10:17). In a matter like this the wealthy Israelite had no advantage before God over a poorer neighbour. The poor man's bird spoke to God of the death of His Son as sweetly as the rich man's bullock did. At the altar God accepted the offerer, not according to the offerer's grasp of the death of Christ, but according to His own estimate of it. It would be a poor thing indeed if God accepted us according to our own grasp of that death.

But faith, however real, is not equally simple or strong in those who believe. And our estimate of Christ is as our faith. It varies in the saints, as their faith does. Happy are those who rest on God's estimate of Him and His work.

The rich man might bring his bullock, the man of medium means his sheep, the poor man his young pigeon. Yet each of the three was a burnt offering, and in each case the offerer was accepted before God. What we see pictured in these variations is not a greater or lesser acceptance but a greater or lesser understanding on the part of the offerer. To put it another way: every believer stands accepted before God in the perfection and fragrance of the sacrifice of Christ. That sacrifice never varies. It is the same for all. What does vary is the measure in which we appreciate the value of His work.

The sheep is the type of Christ in His devoted self-surrender, unresisting and silent (Isaiah 53:7). The goat offering clearly pictures the substitutionary character of the work of the Lamb of God on the cross. The goat is more linked with the sin offering side of the death of Christ. Here too we read that the lamb and goat offering is to be brought on the north side of the altar before the LORD (verse 11). As a type it stands for distance: it does not show the same nearness as the offering of the first grade.

The sheep pictures the willingness of the Lord Jesus to die. We see this in that touching account in Isaiah 53:7... The goat would speak of the Lord as having the ability to die in this way. When Moses pleaded with God for the people, he asked God to blot him out of His book as a substitute for Israel (Exodus 32:32). Again in the New Testament, Paul had similar thoughts. He writes, "I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers" (Romans 9:3). These men were willing to give their lives for the salvation of the nation, but were completely unable to do so. The Lord Jesus was not only willing to die in order to accomplish the will of God; He was also able to accomplish all that was involved in that death, and has glorified God in it all.

Every detail should have a voice for us. The offering from the flock had to be killed on the north side of the altar, "before the LORD." The north means "the hidden." It is the part of the sky where the sun is not directly visible, unlike the south, which always lies under the full rays of the sun. It suggests the withdrawal of the light which we find at the cross. Here it is not marked by total darkness. But it shows the judgment side of our Lord's death, which could not be missing even in the burnt offering.

The north speaks of the place of testing, the place of suffering. See the skill with which the Spirit has linked this northward detail to both the sheep and the goat. Who can tell what suffering the Lord endured in those hours of darkness? There He glorified the Father as He drank the cup the Father had given Him. In the bullock we learn something of the greatness of what our Lord accomplished. In the sheep and in the goat we learn something of the suffering He endured in doing it.

In the burnt offering, the blood was sprinkled on the altar round about (Lev. 1:5, 11), God showing us that from whatever view we might consider approach to Him, the blood of sprinkling was necessary. God will not have us before Him in communion or as worshippers unless it is on the ground of atonement.

The offerer had to provide the offering, bring it, and prepare its body for the sacrifice. The priest's part was to deal with the blood and to burn the body on the altar. So with a four-footed animal the priest had no part at all until the moment came to sprinkle the blood on the altar all around.

"And he shall cut it into pieces." This action presents a somewhat similar truth to "sweet incense beaten small" (Lev. 16). The Holy Spirit delights to dwell on the sweetness and fragrance of the sacrifice of Christ. He dwells on it as a whole, and also in all its smallest details. Look at the burnt offering as a whole, and you see it without blemish. Look at it in all its parts, and you see it is the same.

The pieces were then laid in order upon the altar. There was to be no confusion here. The head, the fat, the inwards, the legs, were all distinguished from one another. The sacrifice was divided into its parts. No mutilation was to take place — "a bone of Him shall not be broken" — but everything was distinguished. Its head stands for the thoughts, which were only those of obedience; the legs, the walk; the inwards, the affections, desires and secret motives. God discerned and recognised them all. In every department of our Lord's life He found only what perfectly glorified His every attribute.

The word for fat here is only used in connection with the burnt offering, and means "the suet" as we would call it today. It speaks of the very excellence of that offering, the energy, while the head speaks of intelligence. The two are coupled together. Nobody knew the will of God and what was due to the will of God more than our Lord Jesus Christ (this is the head). And nobody carried out that will with the energy He did (this is the fat). We may know the will of God, but carrying it out is another matter.

The fat of the offering was God's own part; no one could touch it and go unpunished... He alone could feed on the inward excellency and matchless perfections of Jesus. It is like the unmeasured ointment in Exodus 30. There we see that the infinite mind of God alone could appreciate the infinite value of Christ.

The wood tells of His humanity which He took on for the suffering of death. The fire was the fire from heaven. It is not, as is often assumed here, the symbol of divine wrath consuming the sacrifice, but it has another meaning. It is the figure of God's perfect delight in the devotion of His ever blessed Son. God rested in Christ and found His fullest satisfaction in Him. The Hebrew has different words for burning. The one used here is the same as the word used for the burning of incense. This in itself shows it has no connection with wrath.

All were laid upon the altar, and subjected to the fire — the searching judgment of God... The fire of divine judgment searched Him inside and out — the motives and springs as well as the walk and ways. In the end all went up to God as a sweet savour.

The different forms of the offering may represent the differing degrees of faith in those who brought them. If so, the Lord accepted the smallest measure of the burnt offering as truly as the greatest. His eye beheld the same perfect sacrifice in all. The acceptance of the offerer did not vary, because the offering that typified Christ did not vary.

"But the entrails and the legs he shall wash with water." The entrails speak of inward desire, and the legs of outward movement. The Lord had the desire to move here for God, and having that desire, He did move for God. So the entrails underlie the legs. Just as the head and the fat go together, so the entrails and the legs go together. Having the desire to please God, He pleased God in every movement He made in this world.

The washing of the entrails and legs with water suggests the perfect testing of everything by the word of God that our Lord went through. At His death, all had to be done "that the Scriptures might be fulfilled." Nothing suggests that these parts needed cleansing, and certainly nothing in Christ Himself needed it, for all in Him was pure. But our Lord always submitted Himself to the fullest tests of God's holy word, and so proved that "in Him there is no sin."

This action made the sacrifice, in picture, what Christ was in His very being — pure, inside and out. Everything in Him pointed to one thing: the glory of God... So the priest could rightly "offer all of it and burn it on the altar." In the picture it was all pure, and all meant only as food for God's altar. The priest ate from some sacrifices and the offerer from others, but the burnt offering was all consumed on the altar. It was for God alone.

The burnt offering is skinned and cut into its parts. All of it lies open to the light of heaven, and then goes to the altar flame. Even the word for burning is not the word for ordinary burning, but for rising like incense: all goes up, not as the smoke of judgment, but as pure sweet fragrance.

Christ has now offered Himself. So the judgment of the holy majesty of God — the fire of the Lord — has only one effect for us. It causes the sweet smell of this precious sacrifice to rise up to God.

The very name of it speaks of rising: it is literally the "offering that ascends" — it goes up to God... of all the offerings consumed on the altar this is the only one that is entirely burnt, the "whole burnt-offering."... Yet, on the other hand, it was the offering "for acceptance"... Our acceptance is not measured simply by the fact that sin is put away. It is measured by everything that perfect "obedience unto death" is worth to God — the obedience that put sin away.

Whether of the herd, of the flock, or of birds, each was an offering made by fire, with a pleasing aroma to the LORD. Each of these burnt offerings spoke of the Lord Jesus Christ giving Himself up to death, which is so precious to God. Here the rich Israelite had no advantage before God over a poorer neighbour... at God's altar God accepted the offerer, not according to the offerer's understanding of the death of Christ, but according to His own estimate of it.

If anyone in Israel felt moved in his heart to bring a burnt offering to God, it might be from the herd, from the flock, or of birds. No other offering gave such a choice. The wealthiest and the poorest could meet on common ground at the altar of burnt offering. The rich man could bring his bull, and that took more than one priest to sprinkle the blood and lay the parts of the animal on the altar. The poor man needed only one priest for his bird. Yet he could go home from the altar with his God's assurance that his turtledove or young pigeon was, just like the bull, "a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the LORD" (Lev. 1:17). How gracious this was! The Lord accepted the offering, not by the price a man would have set on it. He accepted it by His own estimate of what each one pictured: the self-surrender to death of His well-beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.

God allowed birds for a burnt offering, as a perfection of grace, if a man was poor. The peace offering was different. If he could not bring an animal, he might stay at home and take it quietly. No matter how poor my thoughts are, I cannot do without a burnt offering.

The dove, or pigeon — and the two were almost one — was in fact the only bird explicitly named for sacrifice. As the "bird of heaven" it has, without doubt, its first meaning. Heaven itself provides the offering by which heaven is to be appeased and opened over man. "The second man is from heaven" (1 Cor. 15:47). A man who has sinned, as all mere men have, cannot for that very reason provide the unblemished offering that alone will do. So God Himself provides it. In this way He shows Himself in unspeakable goodness, to win man's heart… The bird of heaven shows us God become man for our restoration — not a temporary stooping down, but eternal love made known for ever, to be enjoyed for ever.

These birds speak of Christ as do the ox and the lamb. The dove is the bird of peace, love and sorrow. The dove pictures Him as holy and undefiled, filled with tenderness and love. The bird was put to death by "wringing off its head," a picture of the violence done to Him who was so tender and loving. The crop and the feathers (the correct meaning is "filth") were cast away. As these were unclean they had to be thrown out, so that the picture would match Him who is undefiled and holy.

An offerer might be poor. The bull, or even the sheep or goat, might be beyond his means. So God let him bring turtledoves or young pigeons instead. Grace would meet and appreciate the feeblest grasp of the death of Christ. This did not reduce by one bit the acceptance in which the offerer stood. That acceptance depended not on his grasp of it, but on the value God sets on that wonderful sacrifice.

As we go down the list, the offering comes a little closer to what would suit a sin offering… The whole animal does not go up to God in the same marked way as in the first case. That is, the lower the faith — and I take that to be what the sinking value of the offering means — the closer the offering comes to the idea of one for our sins. We see what is unworthy and cast away, as well as what goes up to God.

The lowest grade here is that of the birds — surely not the lowest thought of Christ's person, rather the opposite. The reason is easy to understand. Does not the very glory of His Godhead keep many from realising the perfection of His manhood?… Thank God that this is still an offering of pleasing aroma to Him! What He finds in Christ is not measured by what we find. Nor is our acceptance measured by how much we grasp of it… Still we lose by their poverty.

A bullock was an animal of some value; a dove was a living creature worth very little in money. Some could afford a bird who could not afford a bullock. The Lord would receive it at their hands... In a matter of this kind the wealthy Israelite had no advantage before God over one of his poorer brothers. The poor man's bird spoke to God of the death of His Son as sweetly as the rich man's bullock did. At God's altar the offerer was accepted, not according to his grasp of the death of Christ, but according to God's estimate of it.

The offerer had to provide the offering, bring it, and prepare its body for the sacrifice. The priest's part was to deal with the blood and burn the carcass on the altar... The priest's place was at the altar. He ministered there, but until death had taken place he usually had nothing to do. The death of the sacrifice had to be a fact, and owned as a fact, before the priest's work could begin. The exception in the case of the bird probably arose from the physical difference between it and the beast. From the beast the blood poured out readily; from the bird it had to be squeezed out... So the Lord offered Himself, and only after His death entered on His priesthood, as Hebrews 8:4 states.

It is not even strictly true that the priest never killed the victim except when it was for himself. He did kill the burnt offering of birds (Lev. 1:15). And on the day of atonement he also killed the sin offering for the people — the very day the letter to the Hebrews especially points to.

The dove is the bird of peace, love and sorrow. The dove pictures Him as holy and undefiled, filled with tenderness and love. The bird was put to death by "wringing off its head" — the picture of the violence done to Him who was so tender and loving.

Its blood was pressed out against the side of the altar. How wonderful to think of Him! Every drop of His blood ran through His veins for His Father's glory, and at the cross all of it was wrung from Him. Yet He was still infinitely acceptable — never more so — to the One who had laid this great work on Him to do.

Perhaps the side of the altar speaks of the death of our Lord — not exactly as meeting the claims of God, or as bearing our sins. Rather it speaks of Him put to death by wicked hands and so cast out of this world. Not everyone may agree with this application. Yet it remains true that two things met at the cross: the Lord's submission to the will of God, and His suffering and rejection at the hands of men.

The lowest grade here is that of the birds — surely not the lowest thought of Christ's person, rather the opposite... The bird is not divided as much as the bullock or the sheep, and its inward perfection is not seen in the same way. There is little blood, too, for the altar... Thank God that this is still a sweet-savour offering to Him! What He finds in Christ is not measured by what we find...

The crop was removed with its filth (not its feathers, as in the older version; the word in question refers to the crop, not to the bird). Both were cast on the east side of the altar, by the place of the ashes, facing the door of the court of the tabernacle. The ash heap was put in a handy spot, so it could be taken away easily whenever it needed removing.

Turtle-doves and pigeons are the lowest grade of burnt offerings. These were for the poorest of the people, and they picture the weakest faith in Christ and the lowest estimate of His work... The crop and the feathers (correct meaning, "filth") were cast away. As these were unclean they had to be thrown away, so that the picture would match Him who is undefiled and holy.

The offering of turtle-doves or of young pigeons brought the effective death of His Son before the eyes of the Lord as truly as the bull or the sheep did. If so, it is all the more remarkable that a part was thrown away — a part not of the larger burnt offering, but of the smallest.

The crop and feathers of the birds were cast away. This shows that the worshipper may mix unworthy and unacceptable thoughts of Christ's death in with what is worthy and acceptable... It shows that unworthy thoughts of Christ must perish.

How does weakness of faith work, then? It fails to give adequate glory to God. It takes away from the soul's full enjoyment of Christ and His work. Part of the birds was "cast away," and "into the place of the ashes." Weak faith does not undo the perfecting of the saints before God. The acceptance which Christ's work confers on the believer stays untouched. God sees all who are His according to Christ, His standard. But the weaker the faith, the more the believer mixes a sense of drawback over his own failures into the blessedness the Holy Spirit testifies to.

What an unspeakable mercy that we have such a Priest! He knows how to separate the precious from the vile. So He only lets that come up before God which is acceptable to Him... Christ as our High Priest acts in regard to our sacrifices of praise... He knows how to apply the priestly knife, and to cast aside everything that God cannot receive.

Here, also, the word for "ashes" is a special one. It is different from the ordinary word, which suggests barrenness. In connection with the sacrifice the word is really "fat ashes" — suggesting the richness of what they speak of. Looking at the ashes, one could say, "The fire has fully done its work." So in looking at the death of our blessed Lord we can say, All is finished, divine justice can ask no more. Fittingly, then, this witness of a perfect work is placed on the east side of the altar, toward the sunrise. It suggests that nothing remains now after the cross but our Lord's resurrection. That resurrection is also the dawning of a new eternal day for all who take hold of the infinite value of His finished work.

Jehovah would give the poorest of His people a way to bring Him a shadow of what was most precious: Christ's offering of Himself to God. For among the ordinary sacrifices the burnt offering had an unequalled place. Man shared in all the others, more or less... But no man ever ate of the burnt offering, not even the high priest. It was offered to God — truly on behalf of His people, for their acceptance — but to God alone.

God allowed birds for a burnt offering, as a perfection of grace, if a man was poor. With a peace offering it was different. If he could not bring an animal, he might stay at home and take it calmly. No matter how poor my thoughts are, I cannot do without a burnt offering.

The lowest grade here is that of the birds — surely not the lowest thought of Christ's Person, but rather the opposite. Does not the very glory of His Godhead keep many from realizing the perfection of His manhood? The bird is not divided to the same extent as the bullock or the sheep: the internal perfection is not in the same way seen. There is little blood, too, for the altar; and there is no skin for the priest. Is that not the necessary result when a soul only faintly grasps the Lord's manhood? Thank God that this is still a sweet-savour offering to Him! What He finds in Christ is not measured by what we find, nor our acceptance by our grasp of it.

The birds were to be split open, but not divided in two. This suggests that the offerer had some small grasp of Christ's death. But he could not enter into the precious details of that wonderful sacrifice.

Part of the fowls was "cast away," and "into the place of the ashes." Weak faith does not undo the perfecting of the saints before God. The acceptance which Christ's work confers on the believer stays untouched. God sees all who are His according to Christ, His standard. But the weaker the faith, the more the believer mixes his sense of shortcoming from his own failures into the blessedness that the Holy Spirit testifies to. So the distinct meaning of the burnt offering grows blurred. In his soul's grasp it drifts toward an offering for sin.

The priest had to handle all that went on at the altar. But his work began only after the victim died. The type was accurate in this respect, yet it fell short, as every type must, of the full picture of what it stood for. Here we read of the offerer, of the offering, and of the priest, all three distinct. The offerer, on whose behalf the sacrifice was brought, killed the animal himself. But the reality behind the type, the true sacrifice, offered up Himself. In reality the offerer, the offering, and the priest are one and the same Person seen in three different characters. Everything that had to be done about sacrifice He has done, and done once for all. He leaves man the only part man can take: identifying himself with the sacrifice, so as to share in the rich results that flow from it, owning it as the offering brought on his behalf, and standing accepted before God according to its value.

The poor man's bird spoke to God of the death of His Son as sweetly as the rich man's bullock did. At God's altar the offerer was accepted, not according to his grasp of the death of Christ, but according to God's estimate of it.

Leviticus 2 shows what this offering is in itself, though a meat offering was also added when the burnt offering was brought. Here no blood was shed, and so there was no atonement. The burnt offering pictured the Lord Jesus in His devotion even to death; the meat offering shows Him in His life — the pure humanity of Christ — in the power and energy of the Holy Spirit.

Throughout this chapter the word "meat" should read "meal." This offering is closely tied to the burnt offering. No doubt no one could bring it apart from the sacrificial animal. The meal offering pictures Christ in His perfect humanity and holy, devoted character. It was not for atonement, just as the holy humanity of Christ and the devotion of His life could not atone for sins.

Our own minds would have put the grain offering before the burnt offering, since that is the order history would make natural. But Scripture gives us God's wisdom in a way we never expect, and faith bows to it and so takes hold of the truth... These pictures of Christ and His work came in after man had fallen. That is why the burnt offering had to come first, when Jehovah was making known to His people the resources of His grace in Christ.

The shadow of this perfect man passes before us in the "fine flour" that formed the base of the meat offering. There was not so much as a single coarse grain. There was nothing uneven — nothing unequal — nothing rough to the touch. No matter what pressure came from outside, there was always an even surface. He was never ruffled by any circumstance or set of circumstances. He never had to retrace a step, or recall a word.

With flour, the harder the grind and the greater the pressure, the finer the result. So it was with our Lord. Where was the pressure on Him hardest? In the garden of Gethsemane. What did it produce? "Not my will, but yours, be done." With us, pressure usually brings out the grit and shows up our ugly parts, but with Him it only brought His perfect Manhood more clearly into view.

The "oil" in the meat offering pictures the Holy Spirit. The fine flour was "mingled" with oil, and oil was "poured" on it. That was the picture. In the One it pictured, we see the blessed Lord Jesus Christ first "conceived," and then "anointed," by the Holy Spirit.

How ready we are to run when we were never sent! How ready to act in the mere energy of the flesh! How much of what looks like ministry is only the restless, unholy activity of a nature that has never been measured and judged in God's presence! We really do need to look more closely at our divine "meat offering."

The "oil" pictures the power of Christ's ministry; the "frankincense" pictures its object. The first teaches us that He did everything by the Spirit of God; the second, that He did everything to the glory of God... In the picture, the "fire of the altar" drew out the sweet smell of the frankincense. So with Christ: the more He was tried, in every scene of His blessed life, the more fully it was shown that in His manhood there was nothing that could not rise to God.

The offering had to be brought to God first, and the memorial with all the frankincense had to go up to God, before anything was left as food for the priest who offered it... Only as I learn to appreciate what Christ is to the delight of the heart of God can I begin to grasp what that same blessed Man can be to me — food to keep me going in the wilderness.

Whatever the offerer could bring, or wanted to bring, the Lord was willing to receive... And when anyone brought a cooked meat-offering to God, the law's requirements put it within the reach of the poorest.

In Hebrew the word minchah just means a present. It is always used of what our translators call a meat offering, but it is not limited to that. So Moses gives this name to the offerings of Cain and Abel, using a term that could describe them both. As a rule minchah covers offerings without blood... Israel could bring such gifts to the Lord. Yet until God acknowledged them as His people, we hear of no such offering being acceptable to Jehovah. Cain tried to approach the Lord with such a gift, and God rejected him. Israel could draw near with such gifts, as offerings made by fire, a sweet aroma to the Lord... In symbolic language, the burnt offering must be on the altar before the meat offering itself can be presented to God.

The fine flour was a fitting symbol of His humanity, sinless and in harmony with God. Oil is the well-known figure of the power of the Spirit. It does not stand for His cleansing work, which man's impurity demands. It stands for His energy, set against the self-will of sinful and selfish man. And frankincense stands for the fragrance that God the Father alone valued, and valued perfectly, in His Son as a Man on earth. His Son was the object of a delight beyond words... The fire tests as nothing else can. Out of this offering it brought one thing only, and brought it out fully: an aroma of rest to Jehovah.

The "oil" typifies the power of Christ's ministry; the "frankincense" typifies the object of it. The first teaches us that He did everything by the Spirit of God; the second that He did everything to the glory of God. The frankincense presents what in the life of Christ was exclusively for God... Every thought, every word, every look, every act of His gave off a fragrance that went up at once to God. In the picture, the fire of the altar drew out the sweet aroma of the frankincense. The same holds for the One it pictures. The more He was tested, in every scene and circumstance of His blessed life, the more clearly this showed: in His manhood there was nothing that could not rise to God.

Of this offering, the priest burnt a handful of the flour, with all the frankincense, on the altar as a "memorial." That word is used elsewhere only of the very similar showbread (Lev. 24) and of the jealousy offering (Num. 5). A beautiful word in relation to this one perfect life on earth: will God ever forget it? Tested by the fire of God's holiness, it was nothing but sweet aroma. The rest became the portion of the priest — the worshipper.

The offering had to be presented to God first. The memorial, with all the frankincense, had to go up to God. Only then could anything be left as food for the priest who offered it... First I am led to appreciate what Christ is to the delight of God's heart. Only then do I realize in some measure what that same blessed Man can be to me. He is food to sustain me in wilderness conditions.

It is a miserable thing for a Christian to be acting for a testimony. God may make what I do turn into a testimony. While all the frankincense (Lev. 2:2) was burned on the altar to the Lord, those around smelled the sweet aroma. But a testimony is not my object. Those who set up for a testimony will soon make a show of themselves.

The offering had first to be brought to God. The memorial with all the frankincense had to go up to God before anything was left as food for the priest who offered it. So it has been in history. The work that was for God had to be finished. That pathway of holy worth had to reach its end in complete subjection to the will of God. Only then could we find food for our souls in the life of the Lord Jesus Christ… The very food that satisfies the heart of God is now given to sustain the priests in their priestly service of God.

The rest of the offering belonged to Aaron and his sons (v. 3). Here is a clear difference from the burnt offering. There the rule was that all of it went up to God as an accepted offering, and it made the one who brought it accepted too. Here only a handful was burnt, but all the frankincense went up. The rest was for the great High Priest and the priestly family, the Christian body… It was "most holy," but that did not keep it from us — it was given to Christ and His own to enjoy.

Next to the burnt offering comes the meat or food offering, especially called most holy. "It is," we read, "a most holy part of the LORD's food offerings." In this it shares a feature with the sin offering and the trespass offering… The burnt offering, as we have seen, spoke of His death. The meat offering spoke of His life, though it also pointed clearly to His death… The wave sheaf pictures Him as alive in resurrection. The meat offering views Him as alive before death — His life before the cross — and all of it was a sweet savour to the LORD.

God's Son would in grace become a man. To guard His person from being trampled on, God sent Moses to impress on Israel that the meat offering was most holy (2:3). He gave it the same title that belongs only to the sin offering and the trespass offering (6:25, 7:6). How carefully God guards the character and person of His Son! Yet though it was most holy, the priests were to eat it in the holy place in the tent of meeting. That was a privilege indeed.

The meat offering pictures Jesus on earth so beautifully, and the sons of the high priest were to take it as their own (Lev. 2:3, 10). To value Him in this way you need strength in the power of the Spirit of sonship.

The priests alone ate the holy things, and they ate them in a holy place. We can only take in what is precious in the work of Christ when we have a sense of God's presence, and when we are under the power of that oil which is never poured on flesh.

When we feed on the meat offering we are not thinking of what the other offerings show, atonement and acceptance. We are taken up above all with the perfections and matchless beauty of Christ as Man, which so delighted the Father. As we are occupied with Jesus in this way, we come into sweet communion and enjoy the Father's own thoughts about His Son. Then the Spirit leads the heart to well up and overflow in praise and worship.

Now (verse 4) we get some details, to bring out Christ more perfectly. "Unleavened cakes." The general truth was there before, but here we see no trace or form of sin in Him. Nor is there any use of mere natural sweetness, or of what only refreshes nature; neither can have a place in a sacrifice. Unleavened cakes, with no honey in them. Leaven is found in no offering except on the day of Pentecost, when we come in; there it is present.

The unleavened cakes were to be made of fine flour. They were not to be made of rough or gritty meal. With the ripest and most mature of God's saints there is at times unevenness and grit in their lives. With our Lord everything was perfect. No failure whatever in His life. To use the figure of speech used in the type, the fine flour of His life was perfectly smooth.

In His birth, in His incarnation, the oil mixed into the flour was true as nowhere else. He was the true and only Son of God here below, as He was Son of God eternally. There is something like this in the believer, who is born of God. He is made alive by the Spirit's power, born of water and the Spirit; but this leaves his old nature where and what it was. Christ on the contrary had "no old man." By the Spirit's power His humanity was free from all taint and evil. Not only He sinned not, but no sin was in Him.

If baked "in the oven," it was made of cakes, literally "pierced cakes." This suggests the opening of His inmost heart to the action of the heat. "Mingled with oil" speaks of our Lord's perfect humanity as conceived by the Holy Spirit. The "wafers," rolled out by pressure and anointed with oil, suggest that anointing of the Spirit in whose power He went through His ministry.

Baked in the oven indicates that He is a Sufferer, exposed to the heat of hidden sufferings. Inside an oven the heat is fiercest. In the same way, the unseen sufferings of the Lord Jesus were greater than the sufferings men put on Him openly. He felt the condition of mankind far more deeply than appeared on the surface... His disciples did not enter into the sufferings of His heart, as in His weeping over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41-44) and in His prayer in Gethsemane (Luke 22:41-46).

The process of baking suggests the idea of suffering. But the grain offering is called "a sweet savour," a term never applied to the sin offering or trespass offering. So there is no thought of suffering for sin here, no thought of suffering the wrath of God because of sin, no thought of suffering at the hand of infinite Justice as the sinner's substitute. The two ideas of "sweet savour" and suffering for sin are wholly incompatible.

I think the breaking in pieces (verse 6) may picture our blessed Lord's life looked at in detail. Every action, every word, bore the character of the oil — the blessed, dependent Man of Luke's gospel. The more we read His life the more do we see its divine beauty. The memorial was burnt on the altar, and the priests ate the rest of the offering. We too need, in this priestly character, to feed on the grain offering.

In all these cases it was the finest of the flour of wheat, properly sifted. In each of the three the baking had a different form according to intensity, display, or mixture. The perfect and sinless humanity of Christ is there in the power of the Holy Spirit. It is there in such fragrant grace as suited Jehovah, and only He appreciated it in full. But it was also tested in various ways here below, before the final burning on the altar.

Now the shadow of this perfect man passes before us in the "fine flour" which formed the basis of the meat offering. There was not so much as a single coarse grain. There was nothing uneven — nothing unequal — nothing rough to the touch. No matter what pressure came from outside, there was always an even surface. He was never ruffled by any circumstance or set of circumstances. He never had to retrace a step, or take back a word.

Contrast this with any son of Adam. At once we admit how we value and rate a fellow man by his particular ability in some desired direction. We cultivate our strong points, and others value us for them. In the Lord Jesus we see no such strong points. The nature of fine flour tells of the perfect balance in Him of all the capacities and graces that belonged to His very being.

The grain offering had to be offered without "leaven," because nothing corrupting could picture the pure and spotless Son of God, whose flesh saw no corruption.

"Mixed with oil." What does that speak of to us? Well, we know that the blessed Lord Jesus was conceived of the Holy Spirit, as the angel announced to Mary: "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God" (Luke 1:35). So in His nature as a man, He was conceived of the Holy Spirit, and everything He did was by the power of the Holy Spirit. No doubt the mixing of the oil speaks to us of that. Some of the grain offerings were anointed with oil. The Lord was anointed with the Holy Spirit when He was about thirty years of age.

In the second part, the oblation baked in the oven, the pan, and the frying-pan, we see the Lord as man exposed to various forms of severe trial. The oven shows trial applied in a way that men may not directly witness. The oven does not so much stand for public display; the pan does... Thus we have secret trial, public trial, and this to the utmost — the Lord Jesus tried in every possible way. What was the effect? It showed the perfection, and nothing but perfection, that was found in Him.

This offering baked in a pan (or griddle) indicates open sufferings which the Lord endured from human hostility. Men's hostile words ended in their spitting on Him, tearing out His hair, whipping Him, and crowning Him with thorns. Such sufferings draw out our deep admiration of Him, just as cooking the meal makes the result far more pleasant to the taste.

The case of the grain offering is quite different. There is no bloodshedding here. This offering was composed of fine flour. The fine flour was to be mingled or anointed with oil, and frankincense put upon it.

In the first part I take it we have the plain picture of the nature of our Lord Jesus as man. In the second — the offering baked in the oven, the pan, and the frying-pan — we see the Lord as man exposed to various forms of severe trial. The oven shows trial applied in a way that man may not witness. The oven does not so much stand for what is public; the pan does.

It begins with the mingling of oil with the offering. The One who came in this way is the One who moved openly in this world for God. But now it was to be broken in pieces, and this is unique to this particular offering. No one could break up Christ's first thirty years. But this part covers His public ministry as the gospels record it, and we can look at it in many ways. We are not told how many pieces. We can divide and divide again, examining His public testimony in fine detail. The Spirit of God has divided His public life into at least four portions for us — Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. This only brings out more clearly the perfection of Christ, whose every movement in this world was for the pleasure of God.

The obvious anointing of Jesus was when the Holy Spirit came down on Him in the shape of a dove. But in the first ten verses of this chapter we find various other marks of the grain offering, showing the complete perfection of Christ. "You shall break it in pieces and pour oil on it." In Jesus every part of His walk and acts, however small, was of the Holy Spirit, and in its power.

"Mingled with oil" would speak of His holy conception… Then in Luke 3 we have the record of the "anointing with oil"; this time a public matter. The Spirit came down on Him and the Father's voice was heard. The word "pour" in verse 6 refers to the pouring of molten metal into a given shape. It may point to the Spirit coming down like a dove on this particular Man, the Lord Jesus Christ in all His unique perfection.

Fire is always the symbol of what searches and judges. And the Lord Jesus — it is not too much to say — was put to the proof in every way. What was the effect? His excellence shone out more than ever: the display of the perfection, and of nothing but perfection, that was found in Him.

Tested, more tested, most tested — all the testing only showed the infinite fitness of the Victim to finish the work God gave Him to do, the work of propitiation on the cross itself.

I suppose that the breaking in pieces in verse 6 may represent our blessed Lord's life looked at in detail. Every action, every word, bore the character of the oil — the blessed, dependent Man of Luke's gospel. The more we read His life, the more we see its divine beauty. The memorial was burnt on the altar, and the priests ate the rest of the offering. And we too, in this priestly character, need to feed on the grain offering.

In verse 5 the offering was on a flat slice, or griddle, according to the original; but in verse 7 it is spoken of as brought in a kettle, or pot for boiling.

The three ways of baking certainly seem to mean different degrees of action by fire. There is a milder, hidden testing in the oven; a more direct and severer testing on the pan; and one severer still in the baking on the hearth itself.

In all these cases it was the finest wheat flour, properly sifted and refined. In each of the three, the baking took a different form — in intensity, in what it showed, in what was mixed in. The perfect and sinless humanity of Christ is there, in the power of the Holy Spirit, and in such fragrant grace as suited Jehovah — grace only He appreciates in full.

The third is when the meal offering was baked in an earthen pan or cauldron. This seems more general than the two before it, and the wording matches that broader character: "with oil" (verse 7). It does not define how the oil was applied, or even repeat the absolute purity which is of course implied. The picture here seems to combine public trial with inner trial too. The thoughtful Christian can hardly fail to see this in what the Lord went through in His rejection.

We have neither the mingling nor the anointing here. The thought is that the offering was not presented mingled nor anointed with oil, but together. The Lord is viewed in all His distinctive Manhood, distinct from, but not apart from, the Spirit of God.

This third possible meal offering perhaps gives us just the last few hours of our Lord's history in this world — probably from the moment of His arrest until His last word, "Finished"... The one great thing left before Him, in carrying out the will of God, was His obedience to death, even the death of the cross.

The cauldron again speaks of the action of water, though the fire is of course outside. Here sufferings of another kind seem to be meant — and, going by the usual meaning of water, they come from the Word of God. Surely the Word which guided His footsteps always led Him on through paths of appointed sorrow, until He took the cup from His Father's hand.

In the cooked meat offering God showed the same readiness. He fixed no measure for it, and three kinds are named, any of which a person was free to present... The law placed such an offering within reach of the poorest. Even an offering in a kettle (not frying pan, verse 7) became, when the priest presented it, an offering made by fire of a sweet savour to the Lord. It only lacked the full portrait of Christ which the other two drew so carefully.

The offering was not complete unless the priest burned a memorial of it on the altar... So in plain language: Christ as a man can never be a theme God accepts from us, unless we confess the truth of His voluntary and atoning death. The memorial burned on the altar was the type of that death. Anyone who would speak to God of the sweet savour of His life must always acknowledge His atoning death, where He bore the judgment of God. God never forgets that death, and neither must we.

Leviticus 2 gives details about the "meat" or "meal" offering. In the Hebrew a different word is used for it, but it is still a word that means a gift. This offering too was voluntary and not compulsory. The basic offering here was fine flour, though it could come in a variety of ways: fresh and untreated, baked in an oven or a pan, or cooked in a frying pan. But in each case both oil and frankincense had to go with it.

In every case it was the finest wheat flour, carefully sifted and cleaned. In each of the three, the baking took a different form, according to intensity, display, or mixture. The perfect and sinless humanity of Christ is there in the power of the Holy Spirit, and in fragrant grace that suited Jehovah. Only He appreciated it in full. But it was also tested in many ways here below, before the final burning on the altar as a Fire offering to Jehovah.

Notice that the sweet fragrance of the life of Christ, as Leviticus 2 shows, was first and foremost for God. The priests might eat of the fine flour mixed with oil that made up the meat-offering. But all its frankincense had to be burned on the altar with a part of the offering, as an offering made by fire, a sweet fragrance to the Lord. How blessed to know this! Suppose there had not been a single soul on earth to delight in the fragrance of Christ. Even then His life would not have been in vain, because it brought glory to God and filled His heart with infinite joy.

Setting up a class of priests to offer gifts or sacrifices or prayers is a public declaration. It says that other worshippers cannot come to God directly with their gifts, sacrifices and prayers. They must stay at a distance, and the more privileged class approaches for them... Even the altar stood outside the two curtains, and the worshipper could not come there to offer his gifts or sacrifices. The priest received the gifts, or the victim's blood, from his hand, and he offered them... All this system taught that men could not approach God... Christianity is the opposite of all this. By it God has revealed Himself... Instead of our not being able to approach God, God has approached us.

The altar was the place of offering; the priest was the sanctified one who offered; and God was the One to whom the offering was made. His holy claims were sustained in the one who was sanctified to draw near, and in what ascended there was delight to the heart of God.

The priest brought the Meal offering, whatever its form. He took its memorial and burnt it on the altar, a Fire offering of a sweet fragrance to Jehovah. This was of course the severest test of all. The fire was His consuming judgment, and yet it drew out nothing but fragrance before God. No creature, still less a fallen one, could stand such a trial... it is ours to feed on the perfectness of Christ here below, where it was above all proved to the uttermost. To enjoy such food we need to appreciate our priestly nearness to God.

Of this offering, a handful of the flour, with all the frankincense, was burnt on the altar for a "memorial." Besides here, that word is used only of the very similar showbread (Lev. 24) and of the jealousy offering (Num. 5). A beautiful word in relation to this one perfect life on earth: will God ever forget it? Tried by the fire of God's holiness, it was nothing but a sweet aroma. The rest became the portion of the priest — the worshipper.

The "oil" typifies the power of Christ's ministry; the "frankincense" typifies the object of it. The former teaches us that He did everything by the Spirit of God; the latter that He did everything to the glory of God. The frankincense presents what in the life of Christ was for God alone... Every thought, every word, every look, every act of His sent up a fragrance which went straight to God... In the burnt offering we see Christ offering Himself without spot to God. In the meal offering we see Him presenting all the inner excellence and perfect actions of His human nature to God.

The priest brought the meal offering, whatever its form. He took its memorial and burnt it on the altar, a fire offering of a sweet aroma to Jehovah. This was of course the severest test of all, for it was His consuming judgment. Yet it drew out nothing but fragrance before God. No creature, still less a fallen one, could stand such a trial. He is our acceptance; and it is perfect.

The process of baking suggests the idea of suffering. But the meal offering is called "a sweet aroma," a term never applied to the sin offering or trespass offering. So there is clearly no thought of suffering for sin here. There is no thought of suffering the wrath of God because of sin. There is no thought of suffering at the hand of infinite Justice as the sinner's substitute. The two ideas of "sweet aroma" and suffering for sin cannot go together in the Levitical system.

Compare Leviticus 2:9 and 12; they settle the use of this word in the clearest way. They were to bring it up as an offering, but they were not to offer it as a sweet aroma. The English translates that second word "burnt," which gives the sense well. It was not to ascend as a sweet aroma — that is, to be burnt and rise up to God as such.

First the offering had to be presented to God. The memorial with all the frankincense had to ascend to God. Only then was anything left as food for the priest who offered... I must first be led to appreciate what Christ is to the delight of the heart of God. Only then can I realize in some measure what that same blessed Man can be to me — food to sustain me in the wilderness.

God received His portion from that offering. Aaron, a picture of Christ the High Priest, received his portion. Each of the priests, a picture of all believers, received their portion. All shared in appreciation of the perfections of the Man Christ Jesus in His life of devotion and willing suffering.

Next to the burnt offering comes the meat or food offering, especially called most holy... The burnt offering, as we have seen, spoke of His death. The meat offering spoke of His life, though it also pointed clearly to His death, and to that divine judgment because of sin which He in His grace stooped to bear. No offering the law allowed an Israelite to bring, if it pictured the Lord Jesus Christ, ever treated His death as unimportant. Every one of them testified of it in some way.

At the altar the priest was to take a memorial portion (a handful — v. 2) and burn it on the altar as a sweet aroma to the Lord. What remained was for Aaron and his sons. So God received His portion from that offering. Aaron (a picture of Christ the High Priest) received his portion, and each of the priests (picturing all believers) received theirs. All shared in appreciating the perfections of the Man Christ Jesus in His life of devotion and willing suffering.

The offering must first be offered to God. The memorial with all the frankincense had to rise to God before there could be any food here for the priests who offered it. Only when His work for God was finished, when He had reached the end of His path in full subjection and dependence on the will of God, could any of us find food for our soul in the life of our Lord Jesus Christ... We must first take up what Christ was to the delight of the heart of God. Only then can we realise what that same blessed Man is to our hearts, as food to sustain us in the wilderness.

The rest was for the great High Priest and the priestly family; the Christian body. And is not Christ the food of all that are His?... "Most holy" was it, but not therefore kept from, but given to Christ and His own to enjoy. So those who may enter the holy places find in Christ Himself, in Christ here below as the Gospels show Him, their living food as priests. But here, as with other things, all have this by title, yet only those enjoy it who have faith in it and who walk in that faith by the Spirit.

It is used of the cake offering, which represents His life as man here below — the very thing in which man has dared to suspect a stain. The same words come again in the sin offering, the one case, if any, where man would have suspected something spoiling the perfection of His glory... In the offering for sin, where man would imagine Him lowered in some way, He takes special care to say it is "a thing most holy." And if man supposed a stain in His humanity, the word of the Spirit, always jealous to glorify Him, is "most holy."

Here, then, we have a beautiful figure of the Church, feeding "in the holy place," in the power of practical holiness, on the perfections of the Man Christ Jesus. This is our portion, through the grace of God; but, we must remember, it is to be eaten with unleavened bread. We cannot feed upon Christ if we are indulging in anything evil... Our position, our practice, our persons, our associations, must be holy, before we can feed upon the meat offering.

Verse 11 forbids both the leaven and the honey. Verse 13 requires salt. Between them comes verse 12, which mentions the firstfruits. These were offered to the Lord, but they were not to be burnt on the altar as a pleasing aroma. No reason is given here. The reference is to the "new grain offering" of Leviticus 23:16-17, and there we find that these firstfruits were two loaves, baked with leaven. The people were only to wave them before the Lord, not burn them. They were not a picture of Christ but of the church... Only the offerings that pictured Christ could be burnt on the altar as a pleasing aroma to the Lord.

The work the Spirit produced held something besides itself: leaven was there. So, though it was offered to the LORD, it could not be burnt on the altar as a pleasing aroma. Here we have the essential difference between the church and Christ. Christ is perfect in every part. In His offering there is a pleasing aroma made by fire, unleavened beauty and perfection, fit and able to be presented to God in the holiness of His judgment. The church, under the working of the Spirit, is truly offered to the LORD; but however blessed it is, leaven — the leaven of malice and wickedness — is still there.

They were baked with leaven to show the evil still in the nature of those who make up the Christian body. So a sin offering is needed to put that evil away, and to confess before God the sense and the judgment of it. With the bread they were to offer seven lambs without blemish of the first year, one young bull and two rams as a burnt offering to the LORD, with their grain offering and their drink offerings, an offering made by fire, of pleasing aroma to the LORD. There is the full witness of acceptance.

The people could bring an offering of first ripe fruits, biccurim, as a grain offering to His altar. They could not bring the offering of firstfruits that way (Lev. 2:12, 14-16). The first was voluntary, like any other grain offering, and is described that way: "If you offer," and so on. The second — the one written of in verse 12 — was not. It appears to be what they were commanded to bring (see Num. 18:12)... The first offering was to be an ear of grain, not a sheaf, parched by fire and beaten out of the full ear. That pictured the Lord Jesus, while the firstfruits mentioned in verse 12 of this chapter pictured God's people. The memorial of the parched grain was burnt on the altar. The other could not be treated that way, though the priestly family could feed on it.

In the life of the truest and holiest believers there are constant traces of the impurity and the corruption of a fallen nature. The power of the Holy Spirit may keep them down, but they still remain, and they mingle more or less with every spiritual service. In Christ there was only what was wholly of God and for God, and could be offered up to God.

In meaning, salt was the very opposite of leaven. It was the symbol of what opposes corruption, and so the picture of what endures — of the holiness that the "covenant of God" implies. A holy God can only go on with what is holy, and so salt is the "salt of His covenant." It was never to be missing from any offering.

The expression, "salt of the covenant," sets forth the enduring character of that covenant. God Himself has so ordained it, in all things, that nothing can ever alter it — no influence can ever corrupt it… "Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt." Everything the Perfect Man said showed the power of this principle. His words were not only words of grace. They were words of sharp power — words God fitted to guard against every stain and corrupting influence.

Salt, as you know, is a preservative, and here it may speak to us of what is eternal… In the case of the sacrifice, its effectiveness and its results will last forever. It is "the salt of the covenant with your God." In it God, as it were, binds Himself to bless us according to His own heart, resting on the everlasting effectiveness of the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus. With this grain offering, the sweet fragrance of what Christ was to God as man on earth will be no passing fragrance. It will last for all eternity, and so will our joy in feeding on Him as the humbled Man here on earth.

The stability, the durability, the preserving energy of what was divine was there, though it may not always feel sweet and pleasant to us… This holy separating power, which keeps us apart from corruption, comes from God. It shares the stability of the divine nature. It binds us to Him, not by what we are in our will, but by the security of divine grace… The obligation of the divine promise does bind us to Him, but it binds by His energy and faithfulness, not ours.

When His mother appealed to Him at the marriage in Cana, saying that they had no wine, His answer was, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come." There was not an atom of disrespect in this, but it was not what answered to honey. It was rather the salt of the covenant, which must not be missing from an offering by fire to the LORD. Christ was doing then, as always, the things that were pleasing to the Father. He would not act on a human motive, even to listen to His mother.

As the salt of the covenant was a pledge on God's part of a savour that did not pass away, so there is a need on our part for a holy separating energy toward God, to keep us from corrupt words and ways. Only Christ and His offering of Himself to God for us could be the ground of such a pledge and permanence… But, as our Lord urged at the close of Mark 9, "Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another." The separating power applies here to ourselves, the gracious spirit is for one another. Without holiness, peace between us would be an illusion.

This marked difference also shows in a contrast. God commanded Israel to bring an offering of firstfruits every year. Set that beside the grain offering of a new harvest: an ear (not a sheaf) of grain parched by fire, grain beaten out of the full ear, or, as some would describe it, garden-land grain. The former could not go on God's altar; the latter could. The former was a picture of God's saints; the latter of Christ Himself. (Lev. 2:12-14.) Between them and Him how great the difference!

The firstfruits stand for the new harvest, the revival of the buried seed, and fruitfulness out of death… He alone was the green tree, full of the sap and vigour of true spiritual life. All other men lay under the destroying power of death. He was also the green ears that were "full," complete and perfect, even to death.

It is the same mistake to treat the drying by the fire as the wrath He bore when atoning for our sins… The grain offering had a wholly different aim and character. It sets our Lord before us, not as bearing our sins, but in the perfection of His activities here below… Our Lord was not forsaken by God until He was made sin for us on the cross. Yet He was tried to the utmost all through His life, and more and more so. The divine sifting served only to bring out His entire subjection, devotedness, and obedience, in the face of such difficulties and sufferings as none but He ever knew.

Further, these green ears, full ears of grain, were dried by fire. Does this not show us, in a moving way, that our Lord laid down His perfect life at the cross? Oil was poured on the dried and beaten-out ears, and oil and frankincense were put on the offering. This means that our Lord's life, laid down in death, was fragrant and delightful to the heart of God (frankincense).

It is Christ looked at as man, tried by the testing of divine judgment, but perfect to be offered to God. The expressions are somewhat remarkable — geres carmel, "grain mature out of full ears"; it may be, "produce of the fruitful field," and carmel is known to carry that sense. But the general meaning of the offering is fairly plain. It is Christ in His manhood, sinless and fully proved, presented to God with oil and frankincense of acceptable fragrance — the firstfruits, fruits of man to God.

"And he reached her parched grain." She gets food from his own hand. The heart of our Lord is not satisfied until He Himself is ministering to the soul. How He longs for this personal contact! He is not content just to feed the soul; He passes the food from His own hand to the one in need… More than this, the parched grain was part of the firstfruits (Lev. 2:14). As such it reminds us of our Lord in resurrection, "the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." So from His hand we get the reminder of His person, His work and His resurrection.

The general meaning of the offering is plain. It is Christ in His manhood, sinless and fully tested, presented to God with oil and frankincense of acceptable fragrance — the firstfruits, the fruits of man offered to God.

We have already noticed the very important truth taught by the oil, whether it is mixed with the flour in making the cakes, or poured on top... In His birth, in His incarnation, the first was true as nowhere else... By the Spirit's power His humanity was free from all taint and evil. Not only did He not sin, but no sin was in Him. His anointing or sealing was at His baptism, the reception of the Spirit in power for His service.

In resurrection, we are told at the beginning of Acts, He has received again the Holy Spirit. "You shall put oil on it ... and lay frankincense on it" (v. 15). He lives to the glory of God, and is still serving Him for His pleasure in glorified Manhood at His own right hand.

Let the reader note particularly that "all the frankincense" was consumed on the altar. Why was this? Because frankincense was a picture of the fragrance of Christ's manhood, which God alone enjoyed. There was something in Christ as a Man down here which only God could truly value. Every thought, every look, every word, every movement, every act of "the Man Christ Jesus" gave off a fragrance. It went straight up to the throne of God and refreshed the heart of Him who sat there. Not a single atom of Christ's perfectness or preciousness was ever lost. It might be lost on a cold, heartless world and even on carnal, earthly-minded disciples, but it was not lost on God.

To think that any of these offerings represent Him as glorified seems quite a mistake. It is also a mistake to treat the drying by the fire as the wrath He bore when atoning for our sins... it shows our Lord not as bearing our sins, but in the perfection of His activities here below... Our Lord was not forsaken by God until He was made sin for us on the cross. Yet He was tested to the utmost all through His life, and more and more so. The divine sifting served only to bring out His entire subjection, devotion, and obedience.

Notice that the ears were green, yet they were full ears, that is, they were mature... At about the age of thirty-three our Lord's life was cut off. And yet though He was, as to His manhood, only a young man (as men reckon), He was marked by full maturity. Only three and a half years covered His public ministry, and yet how deep a mark He has made on the world's history.

The firstfruits offering in verses 14-16 pictures Christ. It must be kept carefully distinct from the offering that represents the Christian assembly. In Leviticus 23 we have first the wave sheaf, offered on the morning after the sabbath following the Passover. There was no sin offering with it... Then, when Pentecost had fully come, came the new offering of two wave loaves, offered but not burnt, with a goat for sin... In Leviticus 2:14-16, however, only Christ appears to be pictured in the tender stalks of grain parched by the fire.

Of this offering, the priest burnt a handful of the flour, with all the frankincense, on the altar as a "memorial." That word is used of only two other things: the very similar showbread (Lev. 24) and the jealousy offering (Num. 5). It is a beautiful word for this one perfect life on earth. Will God ever forget it? Tested by the fire of God's holiness, it was nothing but a sweet fragrance. The rest became the portion of the priest — the worshipper.

One other point: in the grain offering all the frankincense went up to God. The priests ate of the flour, but all the grace goes up to God. It was holy; and when the priests offered a grain offering, it was all burnt. It is Christ Himself: there He is offerer and offering; and it was for no one except God Himself, so to speak.

The offering had to be presented to God first. The memorial, with all the frankincense, had to go up to God. Only then was anything left as food for the priest who offered it. History has followed the same order. The work that was for God had to be finished. That pathway of holy worth had to reach its end in complete subjection to the will of God. Only then could we find food for our souls in the life of the Lord Jesus Christ.

The firstfruits stand for the new harvest, the revival of the buried seed, and fruitfulness out of death. The "green ears of grain roasted in fire" recall the Lord's solemn words to the women who followed Him: "If they do these things in a green tree, what will be done in the dry?" He alone was the green tree, full of the sap and strength of true spiritual life. All other men lay under the destroying power of death. He was also the green ears that were "full" — complete and perfect, right up to death.

These green ears, full ears of grain, were also dried by fire. Does this not show us, in a most moving way, that the perfect life of our Lord was laid down at the cross? The oil poured on the dried and beaten-out ears, and the oil and frankincense put on the Offering, show that our Lord's life, laid down in death, was fragrant and delightful to the heart of God (frankincense).

It is a mistake to regard the drying by the fire as the infliction of the wrath He bore in atoning for our sins. Sometimes the grain offering had a leading place, as at the Feasts; sometimes it went with the Burnt offering. Either way its aim and character were wholly different. It sets our Lord before us not as bearing our sins, but in the perfection of His life here on earth… He was tried to the utmost all through His life, and the trial only grew. Yet this divine sifting served only to bring out His complete subjection, devotedness, and obedience, in the face of difficulties and sufferings such as no one but He ever knew.

The firstfruits of the harvest could be presented this way, without passing through the mill under man's hand… Here we are still looking at Christ in His life of perfect obedience, which ended in His death. We see Him as the perfect "grain of wheat" that fell into the ground and died. Out of His death springs life for others, as the Lord Himself said in John 12:24.

The thought, then, was that the offerer was to stand before God in all the acceptance of the unblemished offering that he brought. So putting his hand on the head of the offering signified that he identified himself with his offering. This, we believe, gives us the root meaning attached to the laying on of hands right through Scripture. It means identification.

Again, before the peace offering was killed and eaten, the offerer had to be aware that he was identified with it, because he had laid his hand on its head. It was then killed before the Lord "at the entrance of the tent of meeting"... So every believer now looks back on the death of Jesus, and knows that Christ died for him, to bring him to God. By faith in the Lord Jesus Christ he now has rest, and is at home in the presence of God.

With the peace offering, the first act was presenting it and killing it at the entrance of the tent of meeting, and sprinkling the blood. This formed the basis of every animal offering. Laying his hands on the victim's head identified the offerer with it.

Here we have what the grain offering does not supply — a solid foundation for the worshipper's communion with all the fullness, the preciousness, and the beauty of Christ... We stand on the platform that "the precious blood of Christ" provides. From there, with quietened hearts and worshipping spirits, we can move through all the wonderful scenes of the Lord Jesus Christ's life as a man. If we had only the grain offering side of Christ, we would have no title and no ground for looking at Him and enjoying Him there. If there were no blood-shedding, there could be no title, no standing place for the sinner.

But let this be clearly understood. In the peace offering we have the shedding and sprinkling of blood, yet sin-bearing is not the thought. When we look at Christ in the peace offering, He does not stand before us as the bearer of our sins, as He does in the sin and trespass offerings. He stands there — having borne them — as the ground of our peaceful and happy fellowship with God.

So the offerer laid his hand on the head of the offering, and he brought it to the entrance of the tent of meeting, just like the burnt offering. Yet the text says not a word about its being accepted for him, still less about making atonement for him. It was slaughtered there in the same way, and Aaron's sons the priests dashed the blood on the altar all round in the same way.

Notice that the LORD had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This point matters. We may be sure that those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first. Others make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after they have done their own things. They know little of communion, even if they know peace.

The fat, then, was God's portion. So it must not be neglected. It must not be left until the morning, but offered at once. God must have His part before His people had theirs. This is the secret of all blessing. Give the Lord the supreme place. Think first of what is due to Him, and lose sight of everything else until He has it.

The fat, especially that which covered the inwards, was, as verse 3 says, the Lord's. Fat signifies the energy of the inward will. When the will is opposed to God, set up against Him, Scripture calls that sin. The very fact that we have an independent will of our own is sin.

In that sacrifice, as in the sin offering, the greatest stress fell on the fat, especially the fat of the inward parts. Aaron's sons were to burn it on the altar as the food of the fire offering, a sweet odour to Jehovah. The fat stood for the inner excellence and energy of what was offered in sacrifice to Jehovah. So it was not for the priests to use. It was an odour of rest to Him who alone could fully value it in the One the sacrifice pictured.

The kidneys are the seat of the feelings. The fat is the expression of human will in the energy of life. Both are here seen offered to God. Both surely speak of Him who came not to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him.

The part offered up to God was the fat within — all the energy of a perfect will, which was not lacking, but willingly offered up to God. "The caul above the liver" was possibly the diaphragm, which separates the lungs from the liver. We might call the organs above it the nobler ones, as distinct from those connected more with earth. It was removed and burned, as though suggesting there could be no such distinction in the holy life of our Lord. With Him there was no separation between sacred and common.

Aaron's sons were to burn it on the altar on top of the burnt offering. That is to say, the burnt offering is the foundation of the peace offering. So this eating of the sacrifice was not like ordinary eating. Eating joined them to all the sweet savour of the sacrifice before God, and to all the value He set on that sacrifice.

Jehovah's portion was the food, or bread, of the offerings made by fire, all of which were a sweet savour to Him. This is His own statement, expressing His satisfaction in Christ, of whom the sacrifice was a picture — the holy One, whose innermost feelings were perfect in God's eyes.

Here again, see the falling away from the truth of Christ. Some find in this burning of the fat "the offering up of our good affections to God in all our prayers and praises," or, far worse, "the putting to death of our corrupt affections and lusts." No. It was neither our good offered up nor our bad put to death. It was the inward energy of Christ Himself, the perfect and lasting ground of communion for God and His family.

The diaphragm or midriff, which stretches above the liver all across the chest. See Exodus 29:13; Leviticus 4:9; Leviticus 7:4; Leviticus 9:10. In Hosea 13:8 it is the pericardium, the covering that encloses the heart.

These, "with the fat on them," were often burned on the altar in the sacrifices. Leviticus 3:4-15; Leviticus 4:9; Leviticus 7:4, and so on. Translators render the same word, Kelayoth, as "reins" (which means "kidneys") when it stands as a symbol of the inward feelings and affections.

Next, all the fat, especially of the inward parts, was taken and burnt on the altar of burnt offering to the Lord. Fat and blood were both forbidden to be eaten. The blood was the life, and so belonged in a special way to God; life came from Him in a particular sense. But fat too was never to be eaten — it was burnt, and so offered to God. The use of this symbol, fat, is familiar enough in Scripture: "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked." It is the energy and force of the inward will, the inward parts of a man's heart.

A very beautiful expression is used here: the fat "is the food of the offering made by fire for a sweet savour; all the fat is the Lord's. It shall be a statute … that you eat neither fat nor blood." So the eating of the fat, like the blood, was forbidden. The fat indicates the energy of the inward will; compare Deuteronomy 32:15, "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked" — the will was in opposition to God. There the fat was not the Lord's. In the Lord Jesus there was perfect subjection and devotedness: "Behold, I have come to do your will, O God." There the fat was all the Lord's.

The kidneys are the seat of the feelings (Psalm 73:21; Proverbs 23:16; Lamentations 3:13). The fat is the expression of human will in the energy of life (Job 15:27; Psalm 17:10; Psalm 119:70). Here both are offered to God. Surely they speak of Him who came not to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him (John 6:38). When the Father hid these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children, He said, "Yes, Father, for such was your gracious will." (Matthew 11:26.)

Special attention is called to the kidneys, "the reins," our Lord's inward judgment and refusal of all evil. This could be laid upon the altar as a token of His perfect sinlessness. Meanwhile "the caul above the liver" was removed and burned. That caul is perhaps the diaphragm, which separates the lungs from the liver — the nobler vital organs, as we might call them, as distinct from the lower ones, which are more tied to earth. Its removal seems to suggest there could be no such distinction in the holy life of our Lord. With Him there was no separation between sacred and common. He was as much for God in the lowliest details of life as in His very breath and the beating of His holy heart of affection for Him.

The fat of the offering was God's own particular part. No one could touch it and go unpunished. The penalty was the same as for eating blood. For a man to intrude on God's portion of the offering was as wrong, and as brazen, as claiming life in his own right. God, then, claimed the fat. He alone could feed upon the inward excellency and unmatched perfections of Jesus.

Notice here that the LORD (Jehovah) had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellencies of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is an important point. We may be sure that those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first. Some make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after they have done their own things. They know little of communion, even if they know peace.

So in Leviticus 3:5: "Aaron's sons shall burn it on the altar on top of the burnt offering" — that is to say, the burnt offering is the foundation of the peace offering. This eating of the sacrifice, then, was not like ordinary eating. In eating, they were joined with all the sweet savour of the sacrifice before God, and with all the value which He set on that sacrifice.

Our communion rests on nothing less than the full acceptance of the beloved Son of God. It is acceptance in all the perfection which the burnt offering expresses, as we have already seen. This gives the measure of communion as God intends it. The measure of our own understanding is quite another thing.

The text puts unusual stress on the fat. It represents, not the life as in the blood of the animal given up to God, but its inward energy. The altar claims the richest part as a sacrifice.

All the fat, the sweetest part of the animal, must be given to God, as in all the offerings. He Himself knows best the perfections of His Beloved Son... The fire served to bring out the aroma of the sacrifice, which then rose to God as a sweet savour. The more intense the fire, the sweeter the aroma that rose to God as a sweet-smelling savour.

The special feature in this offering is that it is the one on which God Himself feeds. It is not merely an offering, but food of the offering. This gives it a distinct character, and it brought in communion. The satisfaction and delight, the food of God, is in the offering of Christ. All He is finds its rest there, is perfectly glorified there; we find our food, our delight, in it too.

All the fat belongs to the LORD. Notice here that the LORD had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ... Those whose principle is to attend to the things of God after they have done their own things know little of communion, even if they do know peace. The Lord had the first and the best of the offering, because He alone could enter into the infinite depths of His worth.

The worshipper comes in here, not merely as a spectator, but as a participant — not merely to look on, but to feed. In the burnt offering, the breast and shoulder, legs and inwards, head and fat were all burnt on the altar — all went up as a sweet savour to God. But in the peace offering, the very portion that suits me is left for me. Nor am I left to feed alone on what meets my own need. By no means. I feed in communion — in communion with God, and in communion with my fellow priests. I feed in the full and happy knowledge that the very same sacrifice which feeds my soul has already refreshed the heart of God. And the same portion that feeds me feeds all my fellow worshippers.

There is something more in the peace offering than Christ's pure devotion to the will of God. The worshipper now comes in — not just as a spectator, but as a sharer; not just to gaze, but to feed. That gives this offering its own marked character... I feed in communion — in communion with God, and in communion with my fellow priests. I feed in the full and happy knowledge that the very same sacrifice which feeds my soul has already refreshed the heart of God.

Under the law the offerer provided the peace offering, but he could only bring what the Lord had said He was willing to receive. For a burnt offering he could bring from the herd, from the flock, or a bird. For a peace offering it had to come from the herd or the flock only. He was limited in what he might bring, yet he was not tied down to a male. He could bring a female just as much as a male. Either way, the offering had to be perfect, without blemish.

God allowed more freedom in the peace offering than in the burnt offering. The burnt offering required a male; here the animal could be male or female... But what marked the peace offering out was this: it was not only offered up to God, it was shared by man as well. It was fitting, then, to set a lower standard here than where God alone was in view.

The nature of Christ is always one and the same, whether we view Him as enjoyed by God alone or by the worshipper in fellowship with God. That can never change. The only reason "a female" was allowed in the peace offering is that it was a question of the worshipper's capacity to enjoy that blessed One, who in Himself is "the same yesterday and today and forever."

The peace offering might come from the herd, male or female, or it might be a lamb. Either way it had to be without blemish. The smallest blemish would make it unfit to offer, because it could not then portray the holy, spotless Son of God... The male bullock, or the female bullock, which was weaker, or the lamb, which was worth less, teach us that the measure of our communion depends on how highly we value the perfections and worth of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Those with a weaker grasp of the personal qualities and worth of the sacrifice still know communion, only in a lesser degree. This is comforting.

So we find no grades here, as we found in the burnt offering, and as we shall find far more in the sin offering. Here the details of the sacrifice — whether for cattle, sheep, or goat — seem almost exactly the same.

The Peace offering allowed a certain latitude compared with the Burnt offering. The burnt offering required a male; the peace offering could take either a male or a female. In the burnt offering the whole animal was burned on the altar except the skin, which went to the offering priest. There God asked for the highest form of animal, whether from herd or flock. It was to make atonement, for the offerer was a sinful man. But the peculiarity of the Peace offering was that it was not only offered up to God but shared in by man too. So it was fitting to set a lower standard here than where He alone was in view.

The lamb is a symbol of meek submissiveness, and when chosen for the sacrifices it had to be without blemish and without spot: a very fitting type of the Lord Jesus, the Lamb of God. He, the submissive and spotless One, was "like a lamb that before its shearer is silent," and was announced by John as "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world."

A peace offering could also be from the flock, whether a lamb (v. 7) or a goat (v. 12). In each case the offerer laid his hand on the head of the animal and killed it, and the priest sprinkled the blood around the altar (vv. 8-11 and 13-16). The parts removed from the animal are similar to those in verses 3 and 4, and these were burned, spoken of as "food, an offering made by fire to the Lord." So this offering of the Lord Jesus is for God Himself. Again this is "a sweet aroma" offering.

When a sheep was offered, the law asked for one thing that belonged to that form of the offering alone: "the whole fat tail, he shall take it away close by the backbone." In the sheep of Syria no portion was more prized or valuable, not only for its size but for its quality as fat with the delicacy of marrow. So this part was claimed for the LORD, and given without holding back, "hard by the backbone." In the same way, the One this pictured gave all His energies to His Father, not His life only. No wonder such a picture in the sheep's case drew out the beautiful words, "It is the food of the fire offering to the LORD."

A man could bring a male bullock, or a female bullock, which was weaker, or a lamb, which was worth less. These teach us that the measure of our communion depends on how highly we value the perfections and worth of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Those who grasp less of the personal qualities and worth of the sacrifice still know communion, only in a lesser degree. This is comforting.

So here we find no real grades, as we found in the burnt offering, and shall find far more in the sin offering. Here the details of the sacrifice seem almost exactly the same, whether for cattle, sheep, or goat.

Look at the peace offering as a picture. The moment the blood was shed, God and the worshipper could feed in happy, peaceful fellowship. Nothing more was needed. The blood established peace, and on that ground the communion went on. One question about whether peace is settled is the death-blow to communion.

The peace-offering now presents itself to our notice. It is the offering that pictures for us the communion of the saints, in keeping with the power of the sacrifice. It is communion with God, with the priest who has offered it on our behalf, with one another, and with the whole body of the saints as priests to God. ... All communion is based on how acceptable and pleasing this sacrifice is — not only because the sacrifice was needed, but because God had all His delight in it.

The peace offering, as the King James Version calls it, would be better understood if it were translated requitals, or recompenses. That is what the Hebrew word Shelamim means. As the reader may see in Leviticus 7:12, 16, people brought it on private occasions, either for a vow or as a sacrifice of thanksgiving.

Before the peace offering was killed and eaten, the offerer had to know that he was identified with it, because he had laid his hand on its head. He then killed it before the LORD, in front of the tent of meeting. So every believer now looks back on the death of Jesus, and knows that Christ died for him, to bring him to God.

None of us can have communion with God unless we really recognize that Christ died for us. After all, the offerer laid his hand on the victim's head before he killed it.

The hand was laid on the head of the offering, and it was offered like the burnt offering at the entrance of the tent of meeting. Yet not a word is said of its being accepted for him, still less of making atonement for him. It was killed there just the same, and Aaron's sons the priests likewise threw the blood on the altar all around.

Communion is founded on the death and blood shedding of the Son of God. Without it we must have for ever been outside His presence. The veil was not torn until Christ died. The blood was not only shed, but sprinkled "against the sides of the altar." So we can stand before God in the peaceful awareness of the blood of sprinkling. It tells us we are free to draw near, to be inside the veil with boldness.

Where the whole animal was burned on the altar, except the skin, which went to the priest who offered it, the highest form of the animal was required, whether from the herd or the flock... But what marked out the peace offering was this: it was not only offered up to God, but shared in by man as well. It was fitting, then, to set a lower standard than where He alone was in view.

The male bullock, the female bullock which was weaker, and the lamb which was worth less all teach us one thing. The measure of our communion depends on the value we put on the perfections and worth of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Those who have a weaker grasp of the personal qualities and worth of the sacrifice would still know communion, but in a lesser degree. This is comforting.

God asked one thing when a sheep was offered, and it belonged only to that form of the offering: "he shall remove the whole fat tail, cut off close to the backbone." In the sheep of Syria no portion was more prized or valuable, not only for its size but for its quality as fat with the delicacy of marrow. So it was claimed for Jehovah and given without grudging, "close to the backbone." Just as surely, the One it pictured gave all His energies to His Father, not His life only.

The fat represents, not the life as in the blood of the animal given up to God, but its inward energy. Here God claims the richest part for the altar as a sacrifice.

Fat and blood were both forbidden as food. The blood was the life, and it belonged to God; life came from Him in a special way. But fat also was never to be eaten. It was burned, and so offered to God. The use of this symbol, fat, is familiar enough in the word. "Their heart is fat as grease." "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked." "They are wrapped in their own fat; with their mouth they speak proudly." It is the energy and force of the inward will, the inward parts of a man's heart.

Notice here that the LORD had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is an important point. We may be sure that those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first. Some make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after they have done their own things. They know little of communion, even if they do know peace.

Twice we get the expression "the food of the offering." It was made by fire, and it came up as a pleasing aroma to God. Now the word here translated "food" is far more often translated "bread." Whichever word we take as the better translation, it gives us the thought of food that provides a satisfying portion. And we are allowed to find a portion in what is the "bread" of God.

No. It was neither our good offered up, nor our bad put to death. It was the inward energy of Christ Himself, the perfect and lasting ground of communion for God and His family. God's grace would have His children enjoy a common portion with Himself. The special aim of the peace offering is to show how the sacrifice of Christ secures this blessed fellowship to us.

Here the idea of communion comes out in full. Jehovah, the priest, the males of the priesthood, and the offerer each had their portion in the one sacrifice. Jehovah's portion was the food, or bread, of the offerings made by fire, and all of them were a pleasing aroma to Him. This is His own statement. It expresses His satisfaction in Christ, whom the sacrifice pictured — the holy One, whose innermost feelings were perfect in God's eyes.

But it is on the fat that unusual stress falls. It is described here with emphasis and care. The fat represents, not the life as in the blood of the animal given up to God, but its inward energy. The richest part is here claimed for the altar as a sacrifice.

These, "with their fat," were often burned on the altar in the sacrifices... Translators render the same word, Kelayoth, as "reins" — a word meaning "kidneys" — when it stands for the inward feelings and affections.

Special attention is called to the kidneys, "the reins," our Lord's inward judgment and refusal of all evil. This could be laid upon the altar as a token of His perfect sinlessness. The "caul above the liver" was possibly the diaphragm, which separates the lungs from the liver — the nobler organs as distinct from those linked more with earth. It was removed and burned as well, as though to show there could be no such distinction in the holy life of our Lord. With Him, there was no separation between sacred and common. He was as much for God in the lowliest details of life as in His very breath and the beating of His holy heart of affection for Him.

The kidneys, the seat of the feelings (Ps. 73:21; Prov. 23:16; Lam. 3:13), and the fat, the expression of human will in the energy of life (Job 15:27; Ps. 17:10; Ps. 119:70), are here seen offered to God — surely expressing Him who came not to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him (John 6:38).

All the fat is Jehovah's, and certain inward parts were also offered by fire. It was called "the food of the offering made by fire to the LORD." Notice here that the LORD (Jehovah) had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is an important point. We may be sure that those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first. Those who attend to the things of God only after they have done their own things know little of communion, even if they know peace.

Here again, what a falling away from the truth of Christ! Some find in this burning of the fat "the offering up of our good affections to God in all our prayers and praises," or, far worse, "the putting to death of our corrupt affections and lusts." No. It was neither our good offered up nor our bad put to death. It was the inward energy of Christ Himself, the perfect and lasting ground of communion for God and His family. God's grace would have His children enjoy a common portion with Himself, and it is the special aim of the peace offering to show how the sacrifice of Christ secures this blessed fellowship to us.

In Leviticus 3:11, 16; Numbers 28:2; Ezekiel 44:7, "food," "bread," and "meat" are the same word in Hebrew. I cannot doubt that the "bread of God" gets its character from this use. It is not merely the bread which He gives. It is the bread on which He feeds first of all — the infinite excellency and perfection of Christ, proved under every test, in the lowly stoop and place He had taken to carry out the Father's will. That gave Him divine satisfaction and joy.

The first thing to notice in the peace offering is the complete and absolute acceptance of the sacrifice. The Lord speaks of it as His food — that in which His holiness could find satisfaction in itself. The inward parts were presented for a sweet savour (as Jesus). Fire tries and examines them, and they prove to be food for God Himself. The fat represents the spontaneous actings of the heart. The richness of an animal is its fat; we judge of its healthy vigorous state by this.

In the offering from the flock the wording is shorter, but it adds a new and blessed phrase: it is "the food" or "bread" of the fire offering to Jehovah. How wonderful for Him and for us to enjoy the same offering! Here again, what a falling away from the truth of Christ, to find in this burning of the fat "the offering up of our good affections to God in all our prayers and praises"! Or, far worse, "the mortifying of our corrupt affections and lusts, and the burning up of them by the fire of divine grace." … No; it was neither our good offered up, nor our bad put to death, but the inward energy of Christ Himself, as the perfect and abiding ground of communion for God and His family.

Notice here that the LORD (Jehovah) had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellencies of the victim, for He alone knew, or could estimate, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is an important point. We may be sure that those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first. Some make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after they have done their own things. They know little of communion, even if they do know peace.

The law of the offering (chapter 7) shows us that the whole body of the animal served as food. In this respect this offering is unique. The Lord first has His portion in the fat — surely a figure of God's delight in the sacrifice of Christ. All the excellency and beauty of Christ, in His inward perfection, devoted to God in that death which made expiation for sin.

Compare the Old Testament with John 6, and it is clear what an amazing position of communion God has brought us into. The fat and the blood were God's bread (food, see Leviticus 3:11). Now, this true bread comes down from heaven. A living Christ was God's delight, and ours. Still, we could not really feed on it until it was offered in respect of sin, and not merely for its own savour to God. … We have no life in us; we live by the given life of Christ; but this is the bread of God, the food of His offering made by fire to Him.

The real idea of it is a feast, or communion sacrifice. This is not just a question of the word, but of the truth it means. It does not in any way show how peace is made for a sinner with God. It may, as in the plural, imply things that relate to peace, and communion and thanksgiving are the chief of these... Here it is not all going up to God — Christ giving Himself up to God right to His death. Nor does God alone have His portion. The priestly family have theirs too — Christ giving Himself up in His life. And Christ is both the means and the object of communion... So the fellowship of God, the priest, the offerer and his family is the mark engraved on it.

The goat could not compare with the worth of the bullock, or even with the harmless sheep, which is so well suited to picture the patient, blameless Sufferer. Yet the Lord comforted the Jew who could not bring either one and still wanted to pay his thanks or his vow. A goat was completely valid and certainly acceptable. He was to present it before the Lord... and Aaron's sons sprinkled its blood on the altar all round with no less zeal or care.

Bringing a sheep or a goat does not appear to be a sign of poverty; we get no suggestion of that here. It speaks instead of the different ways believers grasp the varied glories of the One whose every action pleased the Father, even when He was on the cross. Would it not be good for us to grasp more fully all that came to light in Him for the glory of God? We would not then be limited in what we understand, and we could come to God with richer thoughts of Christ.

The goat again is very distinct from either of these. It expresses nothing we could attribute to the Lord personally, any more than the serpent Moses lifted up in the wilderness did. It speaks of the cross as substitution, which the burnt offering also contains. Yet how far it falls short of what the words "pleasing aroma" carry! It belongs naturally with the sin offering, the only offering it is expressly prescribed for.

Before the peace offering was killed and eaten, the offerer had to know that he was identified with it, because he had laid his hand on its head. It was then killed before the Lord "at the entrance of the tent of meeting"; or, if a lamb or a goat, he killed it in front of the tent of meeting. So every believer now looks back on the death of Jesus, and knows that Christ died for him, to bring him to God. He has now, by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, rest, and is at home in the presence of God.

It is all the more striking in the case of the goat, which had no such fat tail, and so no such demand applied here. Yet here sovereign grace comforted the one who offered the goat: "It is the food of the fire offering, a pleasing aroma." It also was His bread, and an aroma of rest to Him.

The goat could not match the worth of the bullock, or even the harmless sheep, which is so well suited to represent the patient, blameless Sufferer. Yet Jehovah comforted the Jew who could not bring either, and still wanted to pay his thanks or his vow. A goat was perfectly valid and certainly acceptable. He was to present it before Jehovah, lay his hand on its head, and kill it before the tent of meeting. And Aaron's sons sprinkled its blood on the altar all around with just as much zeal and care.

These sacrifices may seem to connect with other offerings, the goat especially with the sin offering. But they all seem rightly to meet and give character to this central sacrifice, where Blesser and blessed, Saviour and saved, God and man, stand in a common joy. So we find no grades here, though we have found them in the burnt offering, and will find them much more in the sin offering. Here the details of the sacrifice, whether for cattle, or sheep, or goat, seem almost identical.

The offerer laid his hand on the head of the victim, so identifying himself with it, and from then on all that the victim went through was as his substitute. Faith, of course, identifies the sinner with Christ. Christ then takes the place of the offerer, both in the sufferings He passes through and in the infinite sweet savour of His sacrifice before God. The animal is then killed, for death must come in.

Notice at once that the peace offering was not an offering to make peace. It celebrated and rejoiced in peace already made. As another has said, "It is the offering which shows us the communion of saints, according to the power of the sacrifice: communion with God, with the priest who has offered it on our behalf, with one another, and with the whole body of saints as priests to God." The blood of the sacrifice did indeed have to be sprinkled all around the altar. Shed blood alone is the ground of the saints' communion about the death of Christ.

The blood, shed and applied on and around the altar, shows that the peace we enjoy rests on a righteous basis. As we read in Colossians 1:20, He made peace "by the blood of his cross." Most of the flesh of the sacrifice had to be burned on the altar. This was a token that the righteous claims of God had been fully met.

In the peace offering, seen in its picture meaning, the moment the blood was shed God and the worshipper could feed together in happy, peaceful fellowship. Nothing more was needed. The blood established peace, and on that ground the communion went forward. One question about whether peace is made must be the death-blow to communion. If we are taken up with the useless effort to make peace with God, we must be complete strangers to communion and worship.

It is all the more striking in the case of the goat, which had no such fat tail, and so no such demand was made in that respect. Yet here sovereign grace consoled the offerer of the goat: "It is the food of the fire offering for a sweet odour." It was His bread too, and an odour of rest to Him.

The goat could not compare with the worth of the bull, or even with the harmless sheep, so suited to represent the patient, blameless Sufferer. Still, the LORD comforted the Jew who could not bring either, yet wanted to pay his thanks or his vow. A goat was perfectly valid and certainly acceptable. He was to present it before the LORD, lay his hand on its head, and kill it before the tent of meeting. And Aaron's sons sprinkled its blood on the altar all around with no less zeal or care. God directed him to present from it his offering, a fire offering to the LORD: all the inward fat, and so on, just as the one who offered the internal fat of a bull did.

Fat and blood were alike forbidden to be eaten. The blood was the life, and necessarily belonged to God in a special way; life was from Him in a particular sense. But fat also was never to be eaten, only burnt, and so offered to God. The use of this symbol, fat, is familiar enough in Scripture. "Their heart is fat as grease." "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked." "They are enclosed in their own fat; with their mouth they speak proudly." It is the energy and force of the inward will, the inward parts of a man's heart.

The fat speaks of energy. In man that energy usually shows itself in self-will and rebellion. In Him it went willingly to the cross, offering itself without spot to God. The inwards, the vital organs, say the same thing: the inward springs of our Lord's life were wholly devoted to His Father. His inward affections, His innermost self, His judgment that refused evil — He presented all of these to God in His death, in unblemished purity. It was this which tells of God's share in the death of our Lord.

But here, in Jesus, all that in nature was of energy and force, all His inward parts, were a burnt offering to God. They were wholly sacrificed and offered to Him for such a sweet aroma. This was God's food of the offering, "the food of the offering made by fire to the LORD." In this the LORD Himself found His delight. His soul rested in it, for it was very good — good in the middle of evil, good in the energy of offering to Him, good in perfect obedience.

It is all the more striking in the case of the goat, which had no such fat tail, and so no such demand was made in this respect. Yet here sovereign grace consoled the one who offered the goat: "It is the food of the fire offering for a pleasing aroma." It also was His bread, and an aroma of rest to Him.

Before the LORD, at His table so to speak, the worshippers also come by this perfect sacrifice and feed on it too. They have perfect communion with God in the same delight in the perfect sacrifice of Jesus... They have the same subject of delight as God, a common blessed joy in the excellence of the work of redemption of Jesus.

The goat could not match the worth of the bull, or even of the harmless sheep, which was so well suited to picture the patient, blameless Sufferer. Yet Jehovah comforted the Israelite who could not bring either, and still wanted to pay his thanks or his vow. A goat was fully valid and certainly acceptable. Aaron's sons sprinkled its blood on the altar all around with no less zeal or care. He brought from it a fire offering to Jehovah — all the inward fat and the rest — exactly like the man who offered the inward fat of a bull.

This stands out even more with the goat, which had no fat tail, so no such demand applied to it. Yet here sovereign grace comforted the man who brought the goat: "It is the food of the fire offering, a pleasing aroma." This too was His bread, and an aroma of rest to Him.

The blood was the life, and by its very nature it belonged to God. Life came from Him in a special way. Fat too was never to be eaten. It was burned, and so given to God. Scripture uses this symbol of fat often enough. "Their heart is fat as grease." "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked." "They are enclosed in their own fat, with their mouth they speak proudly." It is the energy and force of the inward will, the inner parts of a person's heart.

The two kidneys, purifying the blood by innumerable filters, picture the inner motives of the Lord Jesus, which are for God.

The kidneys, used as a symbol for the inward thoughts and feelings. Ps. 7:9; Ps. 26:2; Jer. 17:10; Rev. 2:23.

The text calls special attention to the kidneys, "the reins" — our Lord's inward judgment and His refusal of all evil. This could be laid on the altar as a token of His perfect sinlessness. "The caul above the liver" was taken away and burned as well. It may be the diaphragm, which divides the lungs from the liver — the nobler vital organs, you might say, as distinct from the lower ones, which are tied more to earth. Its removal seems to suggest that no such line could be drawn in the holy life of our Lord. With Him, there was no separation between sacred and common. He was as much for God in the smallest details of life as in His very breath and in the beating of His holy heart of love for Him.

The fat of the offering was God's own part. No one could touch it and go unpunished. The penalty for doing so was the same as for eating blood… He alone could feed on the inward excellence and matchless perfections of Jesus.

Notice here that the LORD had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and the inward energy and love of our Lord Jesus Christ… Some make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after they have done their own. They know little of communion, even if they know peace.

"All fat is the LORD's. It shall be a statute forever throughout your generations, in all your dwelling places, that you eat neither fat nor blood." Leviticus 3:16-17… The "fat" signifies the best part, the inward energy and will. It is a picture of the inward energy of the Lord Jesus when He offered Himself to God.

The fat represents the spontaneous actions of the heart. The richness of an animal is its fat, and by this we judge whether it is healthy and strong.

The special feature of this offering is that God Himself feeds on it. It is not just an offering, but the food of the offering. This gives it a character of its own, and it brought in communion. The satisfaction and delight, the food of God, is in the offering of Christ. All that He is finds its rest there and is fully glorified there. We find our food and our delight in it too.

Here again, what a falling away from the truth of Christ it is to find, in this burning of the fat, "the offering up of our good affections to God in all our prayers and praises," or, far worse, "the putting to death of our corrupt affections and lusts, and the burning up of them by the fire of divine grace"… Think of either alternative being "the food of the offering by fire to the LORD, a pleasing aroma!" No. It was neither our good offered up, nor our bad put to death. It was the inward energy of Christ Himself, the perfect and lasting ground of communion for God and His family.

Fat signifies the energy of the inward will. When the will is in opposition to God, set up against Him, Scripture calls that sin. The very fact that we have an independent will of our own is sin… So God claims all the fat for Himself. If the will does not belong to God, it is sin; it is not God's will. The Lord Jesus could say, "I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will but the will of Him who sent Me." "Behold, I have come to do Your will, O God"! He came to do the will of God at all cost to Himself, although it led Him on to death, and that the death of the cross.

Notice here that the LORD had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the victim. He alone knew, or could measure, the real worth and inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is an important point. We can be sure that those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first. Some make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after they have done their own. They know little of communion, even if they know peace.

Putting these verses together, we see it very clearly. First, the fat was God's, and the priest burned it on the altar as a pleasing aroma. Second, the breast belonged to Aaron and his sons. Third, the right shoulder belonged to the offering priest… So God, the offering priest, Aaron and his sons, and the person who brought the animal all fed on the same thing — the same animal. So it becomes a very simple picture of communion with God, and with the Lord Jesus Christ — the offering Priest — and with one another as believers.

The fat shows the energy of the inward will. Compare Deuteronomy 32:15, "Jeshurun grew fat, and kicked" — there the will was set against God. There the fat was not the Lord's. In the Lord Jesus, there was perfect submission and devotion: "Behold, I have come to do your will, O God." There the fat was all the Lord's.

Only the Father could rightly value the unique excellence of Christ, the One who said, "I delight to do your will, O God." God alone could measure the immense weight of what was involved when Christ accepted His will without holding anything back. That acceptance took in all the suffering and shame of the cross... It is the Lord's exclusive portion, and He alone can value it. As another has said, "We can contemplate what is not given us to appropriate."

The fat of the offering was God's special part, and no one could touch it and go unpunished. The punishment for doing so was the same as for eating blood. For a man to trespass on God's portion of the offering was as wrong as for him to claim life as his own right. It was just as daring a presumption. To claim life like that was an open denial of the state of death and ruin he was in because of sin.

But God forbade all blood to the people who knew, as none others did of old, that life belongs to Him. It made no difference what the animal was, bird or beast — all blood was forbidden, without exception... It denied the rights of God, the Creator. Man forfeited his own rights by sin, but the Lord kept His claim over life in full.

The fat and blood are His "bread," as the prophet says. Aaron's sons sprinkled the blood all around the altar, and burned the fat and inward parts there with care... But apart from His claim, the peace offering was for communion in joy, not at all for expiation... Unlike the grain offering, it was not for Aaron and his sons alone. It was for the shared joy of everyone who took part: the Lord, the priest, the offerer and his guests. But the Lord's portion was to be burned on the burnt offering. So even on an occasion of joy, the link with the deepest display of Christ's obedience, right up to death, was plain.

The surrounding nations could freely eat the fat, which to Israel was forbidden. Were the people, then, worse off than the Gentiles? Certainly not. They were God's own people, privileged and blessed beyond all others. But because they were His people, they were to obey. They were to admit that what the fat pictured must be surrendered to God completely. We see this in the life of the Lord Jesus Christ here on earth. There are things others feel free to enjoy that are not suited for a child of God. So, like Israel, we have to admit that our freedom to follow our own will must be checked.

Scripture clearly warns believers today not to eat blood (Acts 15:20). God gave this restriction when He first allowed men to eat animals (Genesis 9:3-4), long before He gave the law to Israel. Neither at that time, nor under grace today, is there any restriction as to eating fat.