And when any one will present an oblation to Jehovah, his offering shall be of fine flour; and he shall pour oil on it, and put frankincense thereon.
Leviticus 2 moves from the burnt offering of chapter 1 to a very different gift: no animal, no blood, just flour, oil and frankincense brought to the altar. The older translations call it a "meat offering," and the question is what those three simple things picture.
Notice first what is missing. Chapter 1 pictures Christ's death; chapter 2 pictures His life.
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.
That missing blood sets a limit.
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.
If this offering pictures a life and chapter 1 pictures a death, the order looks backwards.
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.
Grinding leaves nothing coarse in fine flour. That evenness pictures a life that never varied.
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.
Another writer looks at how flour is made.
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 chapter uses the oil in two ways: mixed into the flour, and poured over it. The difference is deliberate.
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.
From the anointing comes a warning about how we serve.
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."
All the frankincense went to the altar, and oil and frankincense each say something different.
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.
What was left over became food, and the order matters.
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.
No quantity was fixed for this offering.
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.
- Bloodless — no blood, so no atonement. This offering shows Christ's life, not His death, and no one could bring it apart from the sacrificial animal.
- Flour — ground fine and even. Pressure only refined Him, where it brings out the grit in us.
- Oil — mixed in, then poured on: conceived by the Spirit, then anointed by Him. He served in that power, never in mere human energy.
- Frankincense — all of it burned. Oil shows the power of His ministry, frankincense its object, and the fire of trial only drew the fragrance out.
- The rest — God takes His portion first. Only then does that same perfect life become food for His priests, and even the poorest could bring it.
And he shall bring it to Aaron's sons, the priests; and he shall take thereout his handful of the flour thereof, and of the oil thereof, with all the frankincense thereof; and the priest shall burn the memorial thereof on the altar, an offering by fire to Jehovah of a sweet odour.
Leviticus 2 moves from an animal burnt offering to a gift of flour, oil and frankincense. The priest burns only a handful of it, yet all the frankincense goes to God — why, and what does this bloodless gift picture?
The Hebrew word behind this offering is not a technical sacrificial term at all. It is the ordinary word for a present brought to someone.
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 older translation "meat offering" meant food. The ESV calls it a food offering.
Each element of the offering carries its own meaning, and the fire tests all three together.
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 priest burned only a handful of the flour, but all of the frankincense. That marks off the part of Christ's life that was for God alone.
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.
Verse 2 calls the handful a memorial. That word is rare, and its other uses fill out its meaning.
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 order of verse 2 and verse 3 matters. The priests eat nothing until God has had His share.
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.
The frankincense went up to God, but the people nearby still smelled it. One writer draws a practical lesson from that.
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.
- Gift — the offering is a present with no blood in it, brought by a people God has acknowledged as His own.
- Person — flour, oil and frankincense picture a sinless human life, lived in the Spirit's power and fragrant to God.
- Fire — testing did not spoil the offering; it drew the fragrance out.
- Memorial — the burnt handful is God's lasting remembrance of a life lived wholly for Him.
- Food — the priests eat only after God has His portion. See Christ as God's delight first, and He becomes your food.
And the remainder of the oblation shall be Aaron's and his sons' [it is] most holy of Jehovah's offerings by fire.
Leviticus 2 describes an offering of flour, oil and frankincense. This verse settles what happens to the rest of it. Why does God take only a handful, and why is food handed to men still called "most holy"?
The order in the chapter matters. One writer follows it past the ritual into history.
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.
Chapter 1 sets a different rule for the burnt offering.
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.
Older translations call this the "meat offering," using an old word for food. Commentators read it as a picture of the life the Lord lived before the cross.
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.
The phrase is not loose praise. It is a title used of only a few offerings, and one writer sees God guarding His Son in it.
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 food goes to Aaron's sons, not to Israel at large. Where they eat it matters too.
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.
Eating this offering is not like feeding on the offerings that deal with sin.
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.
- God first. The handful and all the frankincense go up to God before anyone eats. The priest has a portion only because God received His first.
- Then shared. The burnt offering went up whole. This one leaves a rest, kept back for the priestly family to eat.
- The food is His life. Commentators read this offering as Christ alive before the cross, the Man whose whole life was a sweet savour to God.
- Holy, yet given. "Most holy" is the same title the sin and trespass offerings carry. It guards the person of the Son. Yet He is not kept back — He is given to His own to enjoy.
- Eaten in the holy place. Only priests eat, and only in God's presence. The result is not fresh assurance about sin. It is communion in the Father's delight in His Son, overflowing into worship.
And if thou present an offering of an oblation baken in the oven, it shall be unleavened cakes of fine flour mingled with oil, or unleavened wafers anointed with oil.
Leviticus 2 describes the grain offering: bread, not a slain animal. Commentators read every detail of these baked loaves and wafers as a picture of Christ: the leaven left out, the fine flour, the oil, and the oven.
The cakes had to be unleavened. One writer takes the verse phrase by phrase, and points out that honey is missing too:
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 material matters too. One writer compares this flour with the lives of even the most mature believers:
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.
Oil pictures the Holy Spirit. Mixing it into the flour points to how Jesus came into the world, and one writer marks off His birth from a believer's new birth:
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.
The verse allows a second form: thin wafers with oil smeared over them. One writer takes each form in turn, down to how the cakes were made:
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.
An oven hides what it cooks. One writer reads that closed heat as suffering no one could see:
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).
But this heat is not punishment for sin. One writer argues that from the wording of the chapter:
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.
(The older translation's "sweet savour" is "a pleasing aroma" in the ESV.)
In verse 6 the cake is broken into pieces. One writer finds meaning in that, and in who ate the rest of the offering:
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.
- Nothing added — no leaven and no honey: no sin in Him, and no mere natural sweetness offered to God in place of it.
- Nothing coarse — fine flour with no grit. The best of believers still show unevenness; His life was smooth all through.
- Oil mixed in — the Spirit at His birth, a humanity unique from the start, unlike a new nature laid alongside an old one.
- Oil brushed on — the wafer anointed: the Spirit's power resting on Him for public service.
- Oil under heat — the closed oven pictures suffering no one saw, deeper than anything men did to Him, yet still a pleasing aroma and never punishment for sin. Then the cake is broken up, so His life can be read in detail and fed on.
And if thine offering be an oblation [baken] on the pan, it shall be fine flour unleavened, mingled with oil.
Leviticus 2 sets out the grain offering. Verse 5 gives one way to prepare it: the same ingredients as before, but now cooked on a flat pan over the fire. Why several methods for one offering, and what does the changing heat teach?
Unlike the sacrifices around it, this offering involves no death. Commentators read it as a picture of who Christ was while He lived among us, tested but never found wanting.
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.
Flour is ground until every particle is the same. One writer sees in that texture a life with no rough patches under any pressure.
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.
Another writer turns it around: we admire people for the opposite reason — for one strong quality that stands out.
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 flour had to be free of leaven — the yeast that spreads through dough and makes it rise. One writer gives the reason.
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.
Here the oil goes into the flour before baking, not onto the surface. One writer ties this mixing to the start of Christ's human life, and sets the later anointing beside it.
"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.
The oven of verse 4 encloses the dough; the flat pan of verse 5 leaves it out in the open. Commentators read the change of vessel as a change in the kind of testing.
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.
Another writer names what that exposure cost 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.
- One flour. The vessel changes; the ingredient never does. Fine flour speaks of a humanity with nothing coarse, uneven or out of proportion in it.
- One prohibition. No form of the offering may carry leaven, because nothing that corrupts can picture the One whose flesh saw no corruption.
- One power. The oil goes into the flour, not just over it — a life that began by the Holy Spirit and went on in His power.
- Many fires. The oven, the pan and the frying pan vary the heat, so that no form of trial is left out: hidden, public, and to the utmost.
- One result. Every fire only showed what was already in Him — perfection, and nothing but perfection.
Thou shalt part it in pieces, and pour oil thereon it is an oblation.
Leviticus 2 sets out the grain offering, and verse 6 belongs to the form cooked on an open pan, then broken up and covered with oil. Two questions sit in the verse: why break the cake at all, and why pour oil on a cake already mixed with it?
The grain offering stands apart from the sacrifices around it.
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.
Verse 6 follows verse 5, where the offering cooks on an open pan, not inside an oven. The different vessels picture different kinds and degrees of trial.
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.
This is the only offering the worshipper breaks up, and the pieces invite a closer look.
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.
Throughout the chapter the oil pictures the Holy Spirit. Here it comes after the breaking, so it reaches every separate piece.
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.
One writer takes the two uses of oil as two separate moments, and explains what the word for pouring pictures:
"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.
The three ways of cooking rise in intensity. Kelly first names what the fire itself stands for.
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.
That testing had a purpose. It fitted Christ for the work of propitiation — the sacrifice that meets God's claim against sin.
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.
The offering does not end at the altar. Its second half is personal.
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.
- Flour — nothing dies here; this offering speaks of a life, not a death.
- Fire — the pan is the open vessel: trial men could watch, unlike the hidden heat of the oven.
- Pieces — break the cake and you can examine every part; the four Gospels let us keep dividing that life further.
- Oil — poured after the breaking, so that every separate piece carries it; nothing in that life stood outside the Spirit's power.
- Food — what the fire proved, the priests then ate; the tested life becomes the believer's nourishment.
And if thine offering be an oblation [prepared] in the cauldron, it shall be made of fine flour with oil.
Leviticus 2 allows three cooked forms of the meal offering, and this verse names the last. Why three vessels? And why does this one drop the careful words about mingling and anointing that came just before?
Commentators say the English word "pan" does not fit the vessel described here. It is deeper than the flat plate of verse 5.
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.
One writer reads the three cooking methods as three degrees of exposure to fire, and so three levels of testing.
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.
The three forms differ in method, not in material. And that material pictures a person.
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 earlier forms carefully say the flour was mingled with oil, or the wafers anointed with oil. Verse 7 says neither. One writer takes this as the broadest of the three descriptions, and finds two kinds of trial in it:
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.
Another writer takes the flour and oil as presented together, not blended:
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.
Commentators differ over what stage of Christ's life this third vessel points to. Some see the last hours before the cross.
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.
Another writer finds a different kind of suffering here, one shaped by the Word of God:
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.
The chapter sets no required size for the offering. That opens the door to the poorest worshipper.
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.
Flour and oil alone were never the end of the matter.
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.
- Vessel. The pan of verse 7 is better understood as a deep pot or cauldron, not the flat griddle of verse 5.
- Fire. Each vessel means a different degree of heat, and so a different degree of testing — milder, open, and severer still.
- Oil. Verse 7 drops both "mingled" and "anointed"; some read this as a broader summary, others as flour and oil presented together.
- Reach. The law fixed no quantity, so even the poorest could bring an offering of a sweet savour to the Lord.
- Altar. However the offering was cooked, it was not complete until the priest burned a memorial — God welcomes the perfect life only where we confess the atoning death.
And thou shalt bring the oblation that is made of these things to Jehovah; and it shall be presented to the priest, and he shall bring it to the altar.
Verse 8 closes the rules for the baked forms of this offering. Whatever shape it took, it travelled the same road: from the worshipper's hands to the LORD, through the priest, onto the altar.
Older translations call this a "meat offering." That misleads a modern reader: there is no flesh in it. The offering is grain, and the Hebrew word behind it says something about how it came.
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.
The phrase gathers up the oven, the griddle and the pan of the preceding verses. The flour never changed. Only the fire did. Commentators read those different heats as the different pressures that tested Christ's humanity.
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.
The verse names the LORD before it names the priest. That order matters: who was this offering for?
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.
Notice what the worshipper does not do. He hands his gift over, and someone else carries it the last few steps. The arrangement kept him at a distance, and Christianity turns it around.
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 verse names three parties, and each does something the others cannot.
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 altar's fire was the last and fiercest test — and what came off it was food.
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.
- Gift. The offering is voluntary, not demanded — fine flour with oil and frankincense, however it was cooked.
- Sameness. "These things" means oven, griddle and pan. One flour, three different heats — read as one sinless life under varied testing.
- Godward first. The gift goes "to the LORD" before anyone eats. That life was fragrant for God's pleasure, whether anyone on earth noticed or not.
- Through another. The worshipper's hand stopped at the priest. He could not reach the altar himself; a sanctified priest carried his gift in. Christianity reverses that distance: God has approached us.
- Then fed. The altar's fire was the sharpest test of all, and it drew out only fragrance to God. From that same offering the priests got their food.
And the priest shall take from the oblation a memorial thereof, and shall burn it on the altar, an offering by fire to Jehovah of a sweet odour.
In Leviticus 2:9 the priest takes one small portion out of the grain offering and burns it on the altar. Two questions sit inside that short sentence — why only a part, and why is the smoke of it called a pleasing aroma?
The word translated "memorial" is rare, and its rarity gives it weight. A handful stood for the whole offering, and God does not forget it.
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 handful of flour and oil was only partial, but every grain of frankincense went up. Commentators read this as the part of a life that belonged to God alone.
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 offering has come out of the oven; now it meets the altar. Fire here means testing.
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.
Fire and suffering here do not mean punishment. The phrase "pleasing aroma" itself rules that reading out.
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.
The word for "burn" carries a precise sense. One writer pins it down by setting this verse beside verse 12.
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.
The order of the ritual is itself the lesson. Nothing is eaten until something has ascended.
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.
The one offering was then shared out, and each share had its owner.
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.
- Handful. The priest takes a small portion as the "memorial." God treats it as standing for the whole — a life He will not forget.
- Frankincense. Only a handful of the flour goes on the altar, but all the frankincense goes up: what was for God alone was given to Him in full.
- Fire. Burning is the sharpest test, God's consuming judgment. It draws out fragrance only, never punishment for sin.
- Ascent. "Burn" here means to rise to God as a pleasing aroma. The word marks the difference between bringing something and offering it.
- Portions. God's share ascends first. Only then does the rest feed the priests: what delights God becomes food for those who draw near.
And the remainder of the oblation [shall be] Aaron's and his sons' [it is] most holy of Jehovah's offerings by fire.
Leviticus 2 ends its rules for the grain offering by settling who gets what. Commentators read this small rule about food as a picture of Christ's life on earth — first God's delight, then the food of His priests.
This offering stands next to the burnt offering. Commentators read the pair as two sides of one Person.
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.
One offering, more than one portion. Commentators ask who each name in the verse stands for.
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 order is fixed: burning comes before eating. Commentators say that order still holds for us.
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.
"Most holy" might sound like a fence keeping people out. Read here, it works the other way.
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.
One other offering carries the same title. Kelly reads the pairing as deliberate.
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."
Who eats this portion, and on what terms? The conditions turn out to be moral ones.
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.
- Portion: The offering pictures Christ's life on earth. God takes a memorial by fire; the rest is food.
- Priority: God takes His portion first. Only after the memorial ascends is there anything for the priests to eat.
- Privilege: "Most holy" does not lock the offering away. God gives it to the priestly family to enjoy.
- Protection: The same title guards Christ's glory where men have suspected a flaw — in His manhood, and in His sin offering.
- Practice: All believers hold this portion by title. Faith enjoys it in fact — without leaven, in the holy place.
No oblation which ye shall present to Jehovah shall be made with leaven; for no leaven and no honey shall ye burn [in] any fire-offering to Jehovah.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
As to the offering of the first-fruits, ye shall present them to Jehovah; but they shall not be offered upon the altar for a sweet odour.
The grain offering allowed no leaven and no honey. So why does verse 12 make room for a gift that did contain leaven — firstfruits the people could bring to the LORD, but never place on the altar?
Verse 12 sits between one command forbidding leaven and honey and another requiring salt. So which firstfruits does it mean?
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 loaves came from the Spirit's work, yet leaven was in them. That one fact sets Christ and the church apart.
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.
The leaven in the loaves called for something else at the same time. So the loaves never came to God alone.
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.
Verse 12 and verse 14 both speak of firstfruits. They are not the same gift, and only one of them reaches the altar.
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.
This difference is not only about worship long ago. It reaches into the service of the holiest believer.
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.
- Leaven — The firstfruits of verse 12 point to the two loaves of Leviticus 23. They were baked with leaven, and that is why they never went up in the altar fire.
- Difference — Commentators read the loaves as a picture of believers and the grain offering as a picture of Christ. What is perfect in every part can face the fire. What still carries corruption cannot.
- Provision — The people brought a sin offering with the leavened loaves. They confessed the evil rather than hiding it.
- Acceptance — Burnt offerings and grain offerings went up with those loaves as a pleasing aroma. Kelly calls this the full witness of acceptance. Kept off the altar is not kept away from God.
- Honesty — Our best service still carries traces of a fallen nature. Only Christ's life was wholly of God and for God.
And every offering of thine oblation shalt thou season with salt; neither shalt thou suffer the salt of the covenant of thy God to be lacking from thine oblation with all thine offerings thou shalt offer salt.
The grain offering pictures the perfect human life of Christ offered to God. Verse 13 names the one ingredient that must never be left out. Salt appears three times in a single sentence. Why does so ordinary a household item carry such weight before God?
The chapter has just banned leaven. Salt stands on the other side of that line, and what it does gives it its meaning.
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 phrase ties salt to a covenant — an agreement God makes and guarantees. Commentators read it as a mark of how long that covenant lasts, and hear the same quality in the words of Christ.
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 preserves. So its place in the offering says something about how long the offering's value lasts.
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.
Salt is also a separating power. It guards what is good by shutting corruption out. But whose strength does the keeping?
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.
Two verses earlier God banned honey; here He commands salt. Kelly sets the two side by side in the life of Jesus, where natural sweetness would have meant giving in to a human claim.
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.
The last clause widens the rule past the grain offering to everything Israel brought. Kelly carries it forward to our own words and ways.
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.
- Salt, not leaven — salt is leaven's opposite. It resists corruption and pictures what lasts — the holiness God's covenant calls for.
- Salt, not honey — honey stands for natural sweetness, and it could not go on the altar. Christ acted on God's will, not human feeling, even toward His mother.
- God's pledge — in "the salt of the covenant" God binds Himself to bless us. The pledge rests on Christ's sacrifice, whose fragrance to God never fades.
- His strength, not ours — the preserving, separating power belongs to God. It ties us to Him by His faithfulness and promise, not by our willpower.
- With all your offerings — God asks the same salt of us — speech seasoned with it, salt kept in ourselves, and peace with one another that holiness makes real.
And if thou present an oblation of thy first-fruits to Jehovah, thou shalt present as the oblation of thy first-fruits green ears of corn roasted in fire, corn beaten out of full ears.
The grain offering ends with a special case: the first ripe grain, fresh from the field, crushed and roasted before the offerer brings it. Commentators read it as a picture of Christ. Two questions follow: whose firstfruits are these, and what does the fire mean?
The chapter mentions an offering of firstfruits earlier too. One writer draws a sharp line between the two.
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 grain here is fresh and green, and beaten out of full ears. One writer reads both words as marks of the One offered.
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.
Here commentators differ. One writer denies that the roasting pictures atonement. The grain offering, he says, has a different aim from the offerings that deal with sin.
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.
Another writer takes the drying of the ears as pointing to His death. He reads the oil and frankincense as God's delight in it.
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).
The Hebrew wording here is unusual. Behind it lies the plain sense of the whole offering: fruit grown on earth, given back to God.
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.
The same parched grain appears in the story of Ruth. Boaz hands it to her at mealtime, and one writer traces the picture through to what Christ does for His own.
"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.
- Green — the fresh ear stands for the one Man full of the sap and vigour of true spiritual life. All others lay under the power of death.
- Full — nothing in Him fell short; the ears had to be complete and perfect, right to death.
- Fire — commentators differ. Some see His lifelong testing, not the wrath He bore for sin. Others see His perfect life laid down at the cross.
- Fragrance — oil and frankincense went on the offering, and God found it fragrant: fruits of man, sinless and fully proved, given back to Him.
- Handed over — Boaz passes the same parched grain to Ruth. The Lord feeds the soul Himself, from His own hand, and so reminds us of His resurrection.
And thou shalt put oil on it, and lay frankincense thereon it is an oblation.
Leviticus 2:15 closes the instructions for the grain offering brought from the firstfruits of the harvest. Fire has already roasted this grain; oil and frankincense come last — the same two additions that opened the chapter, and commentators read both as pointing to one Person.
This offering is grain, not an animal. Writers take it as a portrait of Christ's humanity, offered to God as the best of a harvest:
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.
Oil appears in this chapter in two ways: mixed into the flour, and poured on top. Kelly gives each a meaning of its own:
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.
Commentators differ over how far this picture reaches. Davison sees the oil here covering the risen Christ as well:
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.
Kelly disagrees. In his reading, none of the grain offerings show Christ in glory.
The frankincense had one destination only. Mackintosh asks why:
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.
In verse 14 the fire parches the grain before the oil and frankincense go on. It is tempting to read that fire as the judgment of the cross. Kelly rules out that reading, and one more:
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.
Verse 14 takes the grain while it is still young, yet from full ears — older translations call them "green ears". Pollock holds the two together:
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.
Leviticus has another firstfruits offering. Kelly warns against confusing the two:
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.
- Man. Grain, not an animal: the offering presents a sinless, fully tested humanity, brought to God as the best of the harvest.
- Spirit. Oil mixed in points to His birth by the Spirit's power. Oil poured on points to His anointing at His baptism for service.
- Fire. The parching is not wrath for sin. It is a lifetime of testing, and it only drew out His obedience and devotion.
- Fragrance. The frankincense stands for what only God could value in Him — and all of it went up.
- Firstfruits. Young ears from full ears: a short life, complete in maturity. Unlike the loaves of Pentecost, it needs no sin offering beside it.
And the priest shall burn the memorial thereof, [part] of the beaten corn thereof, and [part] of the oil thereof, with all the frankincense thereof [it is] an offering by fire to Jehovah.
This verse closes the chapter on the grain offering, and it deals with the form brought from the firstfruits of the harvest. Three things stand out — what a "memorial" is, why all the frankincense goes up, and what fire does to grain that was once green and full.
The small handful burnt on the altar carries a name used almost nowhere else in the law.
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.
The priest keeps most of the flour. He keeps none of the frankincense.
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 order matters. God's portion goes up first; only then does anyone eat.
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.
What burns here is not milled flour but fresh grain, roasted and rubbed out. The grain was alive and at full strength when the fire touched it.
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.
Commentators differ over what the drying by fire stands for. Some see in it the perfect life laid down at the cross:
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).
Others say the fire is testing, not the wrath He bore for sins:
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.
This offering skips the mill that the rest of the chapter's offerings pass through.
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.
- Green — the ears were alive and at full strength. They were "full" ears: nothing lacking, perfect right up to death.
- Fired — then the fire came. Writers differ on whether it pictures a life laid down at the cross or a life sifted to the utmost. They agree on the result: nothing but sweetness.
- Memorial — a rare word, used elsewhere only of the showbread and the jealousy offering. God will never forget this one perfect life.
- Frankincense — the flour is shared, but every grain of the frankincense is burnt. That fragrance belongs to God alone.
- Food — God's portion goes up first; then the priest eats. There is no food for our souls until the buried seed has died and life springs from it.