And if his offering to Jehovah be a burnt-offering of fowls, then he shall present his offering of turtle-doves, or of young pigeons.
The burnt offering starts with a bull from the herd, then allows a sheep or goat from the flock. Here it comes down to two small birds. Why does God allow a cheaper gift? What do the birds picture, and is the poor man's acceptance any smaller?
One writer sets the rich man's gift beside the poor man's.
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.
Compare this with the peace offering.
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.
Why these two birds, and what does the bird from heaven show?
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.
The killing and the refuse each carry meaning.
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.
The gift measured the man's means, not God's welcome.
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.
The ritual for the bird is also shorter. One writer finds meaning in that.
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.
Commentators differ here. Does the lowest grade of offering mean a low view of Christ?
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.
- Choice. Only the burnt offering let a worshipper bring herd, flock, or birds. Rich and poor met at one altar.
- Necessity. A poor man could skip a peace offering and stay home; he could never do without a burnt offering.
- Heaven. The dove and pigeon point to the second man from heaven — the offering God Himself provides.
- Estimate. God accepted the bird on the same terms as the bull. He goes by the value of Christ, not by our grasp of Him.
- Loss. The shorter ritual marks a real poverty. Our thoughts of Christ shrink; God's do not.
And the priest shall bring it near to the altar and pinch off its head and burn it on the altar; and its blood shall be pressed out at the side of the altar.
A worshipper who could not afford a bullock could bring a bird instead. With the bird the priest does the killing, and the blood has to be squeezed out rather than poured — small differences that each carry meaning.
A bird cost almost nothing next to a bullock. Did the poorer worshipper's offering count for less?
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.
With the herd and the flock the worshipper killed the animal himself. One writer finds a plain reason why the bird is different:
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.
Commentators differ on whether the cross itself was priestly work. One writer answers from this verse:
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.
One writer reads meaning in the kind of bird, and then in the way it dies:
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.
A bird holds little blood, and the priest had to force it out:
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.
Commentators differ on whether the side of the altar carries its own meaning. One offers a suggestion and marks it as a suggestion:
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.
Does the lowest grade of offering mean a lower thought of Christ?
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...
- Provision. Anyone could bring a bird, so no Israelite was too poor for the altar.
- Priest. With the bird, the priest kills as well as burns — one of the few places where the offerer's hand is not the one that slays.
- Pressed. The blood had to be squeezed out — a picture of a death that gave everything, down to the last drop.
- Price. God set the value, not the market: He received the bird for what it pointed to, the death of His Son.
- Proof. The bird is a sweet savour to God, just as the bullock is. Acceptance rests on Christ's worth, not on how much of it we have grasped.
And he shall remove its crop with its feathers, and cast it beside the altar on the east, into the place of the ashes;
The bird was the smallest burnt offering, and it has one feature the larger ones lack. Part of it never burns. The worshipper pulls it out and throws it down beside the altar. Why is anything discarded from the poorest offering, and why on the east side, where the ashes lie?
Older translations read "his crop with his feathers." Commentators say that misses the Hebrew:
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.
The crop is the pouch where a bird's food collects. One writer links these birds to the poorest worshippers, and explains why their unclean part was never burned:
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.
With a bull or a sheep, everything went up on the altar. Only here is anything held back, and commentators find that striking:
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.
Writers read the discarded part as a picture of what the worshipper himself brings to the altar:
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.
Kelly asks what weak faith actually costs a believer:
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.
One writer applies this sorting to the praise believers bring now:
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.
The refuse lands where the ashes lie, and the ashes carry their own message:
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.
- Crop, not feathers — the word means the bird's crop and its contents, the unclean part. It came out before anything went on the fire.
- Clean picture — the defiled part could not picture Christ. It had to go, so the offering would match One who is undefiled and holy.
- Only the smallest — the bull and the sheep went up whole; only in the poorest offering is a portion thrown away.
- Weak faith — writers read the discarded part as the unworthy thoughts a worshipper mixes in with true ones. Those thoughts must perish. His acceptance in Christ stays untouched.
- East, toward sunrise — the refuse lands at the ash heap. Those ashes prove the fire has done its work, on the side where the new day dawns.
and he shall split it open at its wings, [but] shall not divide [it] asunder; and the priest shall burn it on the altar on the wood that is on the fire it is a burnt-offering, an offering by fire to Jehovah of a sweet odour.
Leviticus 1 ends with the smallest offering of all: a bird, brought by someone too poor for a bull or a sheep. Its ritual looks odd, yet God's verdict over it matches His verdict over the rich man's bullock.
Leviticus 1 works down a scale of offerings. The lowest step is there so that no one is left out.
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.
A poor Israelite could skip other offerings. He could not skip this one.
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 bird is torn open at the wings, but it stays in one piece. Why does the smallest offering rank lowest?
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 wording of the verse is exact: split open, but not severed in two.
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.
One part of the bird is thrown away. That loss pictures something about the worshipper.
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 ritual needs three parties, and each has its own part.
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 verse closes with the same verdict God gave over the rich man's bullock.
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.
- Provision — The bird is the lowest step of the burnt offering, so the poorest Israelite could still bring one. Other offerings he could miss. This one he could not.
- Poverty — The smaller offering pictures a smaller grasp of Christ, not a smaller Christ. What God finds in Him is not measured by what we find.
- Loss — Only here is part thrown on the ash heap. Weak faith mixes the sense of failure into worship and blurs what the burnt offering was meant to show.
- Person — The ritual keeps offerer, offering and priest apart. In Christ they are one Person in three characters.
- Verdict — God's closing words over the bird match His words over the bullock. Acceptance rests on His estimate of the sacrifice, never on ours.