And Jehovah spoke to Moses, saying,
Leviticus 22:17 is a hinge. The chapter has been dealing with the priests and the holy things they handle. Here a fresh word from God opens a new section. It reaches past the priesthood to every person who brings God a gift.
God speaks to Aaron, to his sons, and to all Israel — foreigners living among them included. What follows sets the standard for anything an ordinary worshipper brings to God's altar.
From verse 17 to the end of the chapter we have regulations about offerings which might be brought by the ordinary Israelite or even by a stranger. Here the same intention is seen. Every offerer had to know the holiness of Jehovah to whom the offering was made, and see that no blemish of any kind marked the offering, and that it was not some very small and weak creature just born. All was to be done as God commanded. Jehovah had set them apart as holy, and He was to be treated as holy among them.
The offerings here are freewill gifts and gifts brought to keep a vow. Nobody had to bring them.
The Lord now tells Moses to speak to Aaron and his sons and all the children of Israel. He insists that even freewill burnt offerings must be free from blemishes. Some might think the rule was different here. The compulsory offerings for sin and trespass must be without defect. But perhaps that was not required when the offering was given freely. But the burnt offering was made above all for God's glory, and no defect could be allowed.
Within these rules there is one difference of degree. A vow bound the worshipper more tightly than a gift he simply chose to bring. And the same door stood open to the foreigner.
In a peace offering a female could be brought as well as a male. Whichever sex it was, the offering had to be perfect, without blemish (Lev. 3:1, 6; Lev. 22:18-23). As a freewill offering the rule was less strict than when the peace offering was for a vow. The Lord would also receive a freewill offering or a sacrifice for a vow from a foreigner living in Israel, whether he brought it as a burnt offering or as a peace offering.
The worshipper's own standing hung on the quality of what he brought. One writer traces this straight to Christ.
It must be perfect to be accepted, to begin with. If there had been a single spot, a single blemish, upon that bullock, it could not have been accepted. And if the bullock had not been accepted, the offerer would not have been accepted. The animal was offered for his acceptance. What does that point to? To the holy, spotless Person of the blessed Lord Jesus... passing through this world as the holy, sinless One and offering Himself without spot to God.
The real damage was not to the ritual. It was to the worshipper's idea of God.
We can understand how ready the people were to forget His honour and His all-seeing eye. They would bring something damaged or defective for His altar. And the priest would be willing to overlook such tricks. It was truly a wicked offence, and in effect denied that He is the living God.
Later generations broke this rule, and one writer traces their offence back to the standard set here.
In every case the animal offered upon the altar was to be "without blemish" (see Lev. 22:17-25), so that it might be a more fitting picture of Christ. But this meant giving God their best. These men looked over their herds and flocks. They had lost all sense of God's claims and of the meaning of the sacrifices He required. So they were willing to give Him what was of no use to themselves — their worthless animals, and nothing more.
God asks the same honesty of a Christian — and more.
Let us remember how much more wicked it is in a Christian whose very profession is to walk in the light as God is in the light... Surely we ought not to be less careful in our relationship than a Jew was in his: the least that suited either was to be honest before God and man. If not, the less we speak of grace, the better; nothing condemns looseness so much as the true grace of God.
- New word, wider audience. The new command at verse 17 reaches past the priests to every worshipper — Israelite or foreigner.
- Free, but not cheap. A gift nobody demanded still had to be flawless, because the burnt offering was for God's glory.
- Perfect to be accepted. The animal had to be flawless. If God had turned it away, He would have turned the worshipper away too.
- Pointing to Christ. The flawless animal was a picture of the sinless One who offered Himself without spot to God.
- The gift exposes the heart. Offering God worthless leftovers denies that He is the living God. He looks for more honesty, not less, from those who claim to walk in the light.
Speak unto Aaron, and to his sons, and unto all the children of Israel, and say unto them, Whatever man of the house of Israel, or of the sojourners in Israel, that presenteth his offering for any of his vows, and for any of his voluntary offerings, which they present to Jehovah as a burnt-offering,
In Leviticus 22:18 the Lord speaks to Aaron, his sons, and every Israelite about a gift nobody had to bring — a vow or a freewill offering, brought as a burnt offering. It raises two questions: does God lower His standard for a gift He never demanded, and who may bring one?
The verse names two kinds of people: those born in Israel and foreigners living among them. God welcomes both at the altar, and both may bring either kind of voluntary gift.
The Lord would also receive a freewill offering, or a sacrifice for a vow, from a foreigner living in Israel. It made no difference whether the person brought it as a burnt offering or as a peace offering.
That open door came with no lowered bar. God received the outsider on the same terms as the Israelite.
The animal had to be a male without blemish, because it stood for the Holy One of God. And a foreigner was allowed no more freedom here than an Israelite.
A person might reason like this. God's commanded gifts must be flawless. A freely chosen gift can be whatever the giver can spare. The chapter shuts that reasoning down.
The Lord now tells Moses to speak to Aaron, his sons, and all the people of Israel. Even a freewill burnt offering must have no blemish. Some might think the required offerings for sin and trespass must be without defect, but that a voluntary gift need not be. Yet the burnt offering was brought above all for God's glory, and God allowed no defect in it (vv. 18-20).
Bringing a damaged animal was not a small oversight in procedure. It was a statement about the One receiving it.
Only what was perfect could suit the altar and answer to the heart of God. To offer Him a blemished thing proved that a person had no sense of what was fitting for Him, and no real heart for Him. To try to offer an imperfect sacrifice was the same as the dreadful blasphemy of saying that anything was good enough for Him.
Kelly puts it more sharply. He asks what such an offering said about the God of Israel:
It was a shocking sin, and in effect it denied that He is the living God. Was the God of Israel no better than the selfish people who claimed to worship Him?
The worshipper's standing hangs on the state of what he brings. God accepts the animal, and with it the man.
First of all, it had to be perfect. One spot, one blemish on that bull, and God could not accept it. And if God did not accept the bull, He did not accept the man who brought it. The whole point of the offering was the man's acceptance. What does that point to? To the holy, spotless Person of the blessed Lord Jesus... passing through this world as the holy, sinless One and offering Himself without spot to God.
The two words in this verse do not carry the same weight. Later in the chapter God accepts a slightly misshapen animal as a freewill offering, but not for a vow.
Once we remember who this sacrifice pictured, these rules of the law make sense. And once we remember that the law was given to an earthly people, we can see the grace behind the easing of a strict rule for anyone moved to come near with a freewill offering.
Snell draws a different lesson from the range of animals God allowed.
God allowed a male bull, or a female one, which was weaker, or a lamb, which was worth less. These teach us that the measure of our fellowship with God depends on how highly we value the perfection and worth of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Those who see less of the personal qualities and worth of the sacrifice still know that fellowship, only in a smaller degree. This is comforting.
God gave this rule to people living under the law of Moses. Kelly presses the point harder on Christians.
But remember how much worse it is in a Christian, who claims to walk in the light as God is in the light... We ought not to be less careful in our relationship with God than a Jew was in his. The least either could do was to be honest before God and other people. If we are not, the less we say about grace the better. Nothing condemns careless living like the true grace of God.
- Invitation. God speaks to Israelites and to foreigners living among them. He will receive a vow or a freewill gift from either.
- Standard. The welcome never softens the demand. God gives the foreigner no more freedom than the Israelite.
- Freedom. God measures a freely chosen gift by His own glory. Even a burnt offering He never commanded must have no defect.
- Insult. A blemished victim says that anything is good enough for God, which denies who He is.
- Acceptance. The spotless animal won the worshipper's acceptance. It points to Christ, who offered Himself without spot to God.
it shall be for your acceptance, without blemish, a male of the oxen, of the sheep, and of the goats.
God set the terms even for gifts no one had to bring — offerings to keep a vow, or gifts a worshipper simply wanted to give. Even here He allowed nothing defective. The reason goes deeper than ritual: the animal's acceptance and the giver's acceptance were one and the same thing.
The weight of the verse falls on two words: for you. One writer ties the worshipper's standing to the condition of the animal he brings.
It must be perfect to be accepted, to begin with. If there had been a single spot, a single blemish, on that bull, God could not have accepted it. And if God had not accepted the bull, He would not have accepted the offerer, because the animal was offered so that the offerer might be accepted.
A worshipper might think a gift nobody demanded could meet a lower standard. The text closes that door before it opens.
Even free will burnt offerings must be free from blemishes. Some might think that the required offerings for sin and trespass must be without defect, while a voluntary gift need not be. But the burnt offering was for God's glory above all, and God allowed no defect.
The verse names three animals. One writer finds a different picture of Christ in each, and in the largest of them a fuller grasp of what the sacrifice is worth.
The bull (larger and stronger) would remind us that some have a more full recognition of the great value of the sacrifice of Christ than others have. It speaks of the strength of the offering. The sheep denotes the submission of Christ, and the goat His substitution.
The verse asks for a male animal with no defect. One writer shows how far that demand reached.
Yet neither in the wilderness nor in the promised land was anything abnormal allowed for acceptance. An unblemished male was required, as representing the Holy One of God. And a stranger had no more licence than an Israelite.
One writer points from the flawless animal to Jesus Himself.
The Lord Jesus came into this world as the "Seed of the woman" and His manhood was absolutely perfect. There was no blemish in Him caused by sin. If there had been, then His offering would not have been accepted by God.
Slipping a defective animal onto the altar was cheap and easy. Both the worshipper and the priest had reason to look the other way. One writer treats it as a statement about God Himself.
We can easily understand how quick the people were to forget His honour and His all-seeing eye. They brought something damaged or defective to His altar. And the priest would be glad to overlook such tricks. It was a deeply wicked sin, and it denied in effect that He was the living God. Was the God of Israel like the selfish people who claimed to worship Him? That is what sin implies, and above all in the things of God.
Later, Israel broke this very rule, and one writer names the thinking behind it.
They offered the blind, the lame, and the sick as sacrifices. They knew they were breaking one of the strictest commands of Scripture. In every case the animal offered on the altar was to be "without blemish" (see Lev. 22:17-25), so that it might be a fitting picture of Christ. But this meant giving God their best. These men looked over their herds and flocks with no sense left of God's claims, or of the meaning of the sacrifices He required. They were willing to give Him what was of no use to themselves — their worthless animals, and nothing more.
The same writer presses the point on Christians.
But let us remember how much more wicked this is in a Christian. A Christian's very profession is to walk in the light, as God is in the light. The true light already shines. We are not under law as Israel was. Yet God has made us, who were once darkness, light in the Lord, and He calls us to shine as lights in a filthy world, holding out the word of life. Surely we ought not to be less careful in our relationship than a Jew was in his.
- Accepted for you — God did not weigh the animal for its own sake. If He turned away the offering, He turned away the man holding it.
- Accepted freely — nobody had to bring a vow or freewill gift, but that never lowered the standard. The offering was for God's glory.
- Accepted as pictured — bull, sheep and goat each show a different side of Christ: His strength, His submission, His substitution.
- Accepted without blemish — the male without defect stood for the Holy One of God. The same rule bound the foreigner and the Israelite alike.
- Accepted or despised — giving God what costs you nothing denies who He is. Writers press that warning harder on Christians, not softer.
Nothing that hath a defect shall ye present; for it shall not be acceptable for you.
This verse is one short rule: no animal with a defect may come to God's altar. It sounds like a regulation about livestock. It is really about who God is, and about how He receives the person who worships Him.
The words "it will not be acceptable for you" put the worshipper's own standing at stake, not just the animal's fitness. One writer traces the chain, using a bullock as his example:
It must be perfect to be accepted, to begin with. If there had been a single spot, a single blemish, on that bullock, it could not have been accepted. And if the bullock had not been accepted, the offerer would not have been accepted, for the animal was offered for his acceptance.
Every sacrifice pointed forward to one Person, and the standard for the shadow tells us what the reality had to be:
If God could not accept a blemished sacrifice as a picture of the sacrifice of Christ, how appalling is the thought that He who was the Substance of all the shadows and the Fulfiller of all the types had a blemish or the taint of sin in Him! So that such a thought might have no place in our minds, Scripture tells us what happened when the time came to offer the sacrifice. He "through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God" (Hebrews 9:14).
The same test falls on the priest at the altar, not only on the animal. One writer traces what a blemish cost a son of Aaron, and what it did not:
If one of the sons of Aaron happened to have a broken foot or a broken hand, did he lose his sonship? Certainly not. Did he lose his priestly position? By no means. He still ate the bread of his God, both the most holy and the holy. What, then, did he lose by his physical blemish? He was shut out of some of the higher walks of priestly service and worship. These were very serious privations. Someone may object that a man could not help many of these physical defects. That did not alter the matter. The Lord could not have a blemished priest at His altar, or a blemished sacrifice on it. Both the priest and the sacrifice should be perfect.
One writer describes men who kept up the sacrifices while picking out the animals they would not miss:
In every case the animal offered on the altar was to be "without blemish" (see Leviticus 22:17-25), so that it might be a more fitting picture of Christ. But this meant giving God of their best. These men looked over their herds and flocks, lost to all sense of God's claims and of the meaning of the sacrifices He required. They were willing to give Him what was of no use to themselves — their worthless animals, but nothing more. So they truly despised His name, polluted His altar, and made the Lord's table contemptible.
The law does allow one relaxation, and only for a freewill offering. One writer reads it as grace, not carelessness:
For a burnt offering it had to be a male without blemish. For a peace offering the animal had to be perfect. But the law did allow a bullock or a lamb with anything overgrown or stunted to be offered as a freewill offering... the law was given to an earthly people. Bearing that in mind, we can grasp the grace that provided this relaxation of the strict rule, if they were moved to draw near with a sacrifice for a freewill offering.
The test does not stop with livestock. One writer turns it on the reader:
Is there not, in our private and public worship, a terrible lack of heart, of real devotedness, deep earnestness, holy energy, and integrity of purpose? Is there not much that matches the offering of the lame and the sick, the blemished and the ugly?... How often are our bodies at the table, while our wandering hearts and restless minds are at the ends of the earth!
- Blemish bars the gift. A defect in the animal was not a small flaw to overlook. It disqualified the gift and closed the altar.
- Blemish bars the giver. The animal was offered for the worshipper's acceptance. So a rejected sacrifice meant a rejected man. The two stood or fell together.
- The bar reaches the priest. God would have neither a blemished priest at His altar nor a blemished sacrifice on it. Both had to be perfect.
- Christ clears the bar. The spotless sacrifice pointed to Christ, who offered Himself to God without spot. God accepted Him, and His acceptance becomes the believer's.
- The bar still stands. Giving God what costs us nothing despises His name. Half-hearted worship offers the lame and the sick just as truly as a cheap animal did.
And if any present a sacrifice of peace-offering to Jehovah to accomplish a vow, or a voluntary offering of oxen or small cattle, it shall be without blemish to be accepted there shall be no defect therein.
Leviticus 22 lists what may and may not go on God's altar. This verse sets the standard for the peace offering, a sacrifice that was really a shared feast. The offering could pay a vow or be a free gift. Either way, one rule never moved: the animal had to be flawless.
The English name can mislead. So what is this offering really about?
The real idea of it is a feast, or communion sacrifice. The question is not just about the word, but about the truth behind it. It does not in any way show how a sinner makes peace with God. In the plural form it may cover things that relate to peace, and the chief of these are communion and thanksgiving... Here it does not all go up to God. God does not have the only portion; the priestly family have theirs too. But Christ is both the means and the object of communion.
The verse names two occasions: paying a vow, and a freewill gift. A vow was a deliberate promise to God to carry something through.
A "vow" has to do with some act of devotion. It means a definite commitment to God to do some work for His glory and for the blessing of His people... It may mean giving our time because we long to see God's people blessed. It may mean giving ourselves completely to the will of God, as Romans 12 urges us to do... It is not required. It is a privilege open to anyone who truly wants to commit himself to God and be used by Him.
The verse ties the worshipper's standing to the animal's condition.
To begin with, it must be perfect to be accepted. One spot, one blemish on that bullock, and God could not accept it. And if God could not accept the bullock, He could not accept the offerer either, because the animal was offered for the offerer's acceptance. What does that point to? To the holy, spotless Person of the blessed Lord Jesus... who passed through this world as the holy, sinless One and offered Himself without spot to God.
Another writer spells out what the animal had done for the man who brought it.
Through the excellence of the offering, God accepted the offerer, and atonement was made for him. It was without spot. It had carried his burden. It had been killed in his place. Its blood had been thrown on the altar, and the whole sacrifice rose to God as a sweet smell.
The verse bans any blemish at all. Why so strict?
The peace offering might come from the herd, either male or female, or it might be a lamb. In either case it had to be without blemish. The smallest blemish would make it unfit to be offered. It could not then portray the holy, spotless Son of God.
Yet the verse allows a range: from the herd or from the flock. Commentators find meaning in that choice.
The male bullock, or the female bullock that was weaker, or the lamb that was worth less, all teach us one thing. The measure of our communion depends on how highly we value the perfections and worth of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Those with a weaker grasp of the personal qualities and worth of the sacrifice still know communion, but in a smaller measure. This is comforting.
The verses just after allow a small defect in a freewill offering that would rule out an animal brought for a vow.
For a peace offering the animal had to be perfect. Yet the law allowed a bullock or a lamb with a part too long, or a part missing, to be brought as a freewill offering. When we remember whom this sacrifice pictured, we understand these rules. The law was given to an earthly people, so we can see the grace that relaxed the strict rule for anyone moved to come near with a freewill offering... How often we need to remember that communion with Him must be real if it is to be acceptable. It is not to become a form; it is to be a reality.
The same door stood open to outsiders living among Israel.
And from a stranger in Israel, too, the Lord would receive a free-will offering or a sacrifice for a vow, and that whether it was presented as a burnt-offering or as a peace-offering.
- Perfect — one blemish ruled the animal out. Nothing less could picture the spotless Son of God.
- Accepted — God received the worshipper for the offering's sake, not his own. If God refused the animal, He refused the man.
- Shared — this offering was a feast. God had His portion and the priestly family had theirs, and Christ is both the means and the object of that fellowship.
- Measured — the choice between bull and lamb carries a lesson. We enjoy that fellowship as far as we value the One who gave Himself for us.
- Open — a vow met the higher standard, a freewill gift a gentler one. Even the outsider living in Israel could bring either. But the fellowship had to be real, not a form.
Blind, or broken, or maimed, or ulcerous, or with itch, or scabbed -- ye shall not present these to Jehovah, nor make an offering by fire of them on the altar to Jehovah.
This verse lists the faults that shut an animal out of worship: blind, disabled, mutilated, or carrying a discharge, an itch or scabs. Two questions sit behind the ban: what did these sacrifices picture, and what does a damaged gift reveal about the worshipper?
The rule makes sense once you see what the animal stood for:
The smallest blemish would make it unfit to be offered; for then it could not portray the holy, spotless Son of God. The directions about this were very strict. Yet a part too large or too small would not make an animal unfit for a freewill offering.
The verse rules out damage and disease alike. But being unspoiled was not the whole test:
God sees to it that the sacrifices which speak of His Son always stress His perfection. He is not merely free of defilement (spotless), but also "without blemish". No positive trait of character was lacking in Christ, or present in anything other than the right measure.
The offerer brought the animal to be accepted in his place. His own standing hung on it:
If there had been a single spot, a single blemish, on that bull, it could not have been accepted. And if the bull had not been accepted, the offerer would not have been accepted. The animal was offered for his acceptance. What does that point to? To the holy, spotless Person of the blessed Lord Jesus... passing through this world as the holy, sinless One and offering Himself without spot to God.
God did not count such an offering a small thing:
We can easily understand how ready the people were to forget His honour and His all-seeing eye. They brought something damaged or defective for His altar, and the priest would be willing to overlook such tricks. It was really a serious offence, and in effect it denied that He was the living God. Was the God of Israel like His selfish and professing worshippers? This is indeed what sin implies, especially in divine things.
The rule matched God's own character:
Only what was absolutely perfect could suit the altar and answer to the heart of God. To offer Him a blemished thing simply proved that a man had no real sense of what was fitting for Him, and no real heart for Him. To try to offer an imperfect sacrifice was the same as the horrible blasphemy of saying that anything was good enough for Him. Listen to the indignant pleading of the Spirit of God through the prophet Malachi.
In Malachi's day the offerings had sunk to exactly what this verse forbids. First, see what the altar itself is called:
The altar and the table of the Lord here are one and the same thing. The altar is called this because the sacrifices — and Christ, whom they pictured — were called God's bread.
The charge went further:
They offered the blind, the lame and the sick for sacrifice, knowingly violating one of the strictest commands in Scripture. In every case the animal offered on the altar was to be "without blemish" (see Lev. 22:17-25), so that it might be a better picture of Christ. But that meant giving God their best. These men looked over their herds and flocks with no sense left of God's claims, or of the meaning of the sacrifices He required. They were willing to give Him what was of no use to themselves — their worthless animals, and nothing more. So they truly despised His name, polluted His altar, and made the Lord's table contemptible.
God gave these commands to Israel. The standard rises, not falls, for those who know more:
But let us remember how much more wicked it is in a Christian, whose very profession is to walk in the light as God is in the light... Surely we should be no less careful in our relationship than a Jew was in his. The least that suited either was to be honest before God and man. If not, the less we speak of grace the better; nothing condemns looseness so much as the true grace of God.
- Perfect picture. One flaw ruled the animal out. A damaged victim could not picture the holy, spotless Son of God.
- Perfect means whole. "Without blemish" covers both stains and gaps — nothing defiling present, nothing good missing.
- Perfect victim, accepted worshipper. The offerer stood or fell with his animal. A rejected sacrifice meant a rejected man. So everything rests on Christ, who offered Himself without spot to God.
- Imperfect offering, insulted God. Bringing damaged goods denies that God is living and sees. It says anything is good enough for Him.
- Perfection still claimed. Later worshippers offered the blind and the sick, and so despised God's name and cheapened His table. Anyone who walks in the light must be at least as honest.
A bullock and a sheep that hath a member too long or too short, that mayest thou offer as a voluntary offering; but as a vow it shall not be accepted.
Leviticus 22 lists what may and may not come to God's altar. One flawed animal is allowed here as a freewill gift, yet refused in payment of a vow — so why does God relax the rule in one case and hold it firm in the other?
This verse belongs to the law of the peace offering. A worshipper could bring that offering for two different reasons.
The peace offering might be brought to fulfil a vow, or as a freewill offering. No defect was allowed in either case, except that a bull or a lamb with a limb too long or too short could be allowed for a freewill offering, but not for a vow (vv. 21-23). But no animal that had been bruised or crushed or torn or cut was acceptable for any sacrifice.
The animal stood for God's Son. A limb in the wrong proportion spoiled that picture.
God makes sure that the sacrifices which speak of His Son always stress His perfection — not only free of defilement (spotless), but also "without blemish". No good trait of character was missing in Christ, and none was present in the wrong measure.
A voluntary offering gave the worshipper room. A vow left him none.
Yet even the law allowed a lower note in a voluntary peace offering, because man was given an unusual place there. The worshipper brought leavened bread with his peace offering of thanksgiving, along with the unleavened cakes mixed with oil. But for a vow this was forbidden, since a vow belongs strictly to the LORD.
The same commitment shows up today when a believer takes up a work for God.
A "vow" had to do with some act of devotion. It meant a definite commitment to God, to do some work for His glory and for the blessing of His people… It is not required, but it is a privilege open to anyone who really wants to commit himself to God and be used by Him.
One writer places the exception beside the strict rule.
For a burnt offering the animal had to be a male without blemish. For a peace offering the animal had to be perfect, though the law allowed a bullock or a lamb with anything in excess, or anything lacking (literally, lessened), to be offered as a freewill offering. When we remember whom this sacrifice pictured, we understand these rules of the law. And when we remember that the law was given to an earthly people, we can see the grace that relaxed a strict rule for those who were moved to draw near with a freewill offering.
The choice of animal also says something about the worshipper.
The male bullock, or the female bullock — the weaker one — or the lamb, which was worth less, teach us that the measure of our communion depends on how highly we value the perfections and worth of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Those with a weaker grasp of the personal qualities and worth of the sacrifice would still know communion, only in a lesser degree. This is comforting.
Under grace the standard does not drop.
But let us remember how much more wicked such looseness is in a Christian, whose very profession is to walk in the light as God is in the light… Surely we ought not to be less careful in our relationship than a Jew was in his. The least that suited either was to be honest before God and man. If not, the less we speak of grace, the better; nothing condemns looseness so much as the true grace of God.
- Standard. The sacrifice pictured Christ. No good trait of His was missing, and none was in the wrong measure.
- Concession. A limb too long or too short was allowed in a freewill offering. Anything bruised, crushed, torn or cut was refused for every sacrifice.
- Vow. A vow is a definite promise to do a work for God's glory. What is promised to Him belongs to Him alone, so no allowance is made there.
- Measure. What we bring matches how highly we value Christ. A smaller grasp still brings real communion, only in a lesser degree.
- Reality. The looser rule is grace toward a willing worshipper, never cover for a careless one. Nothing condemns looseness like grace.
That which is bruised, or crushed, or broken, or cut shall ye not present to Jehovah; neither in your land shall ye do [the like].
Leviticus 22 lists what may and may not come to God's altar. Verse 24 rules out a mutilated animal, and it raises two questions: why is God so exacting about what He receives, and why does the ban reach past the altar into everyday life in the land?
Behind the ban lies a familiar temptation: giving God what is already spoiled. That is more than a technical fault.
We can easily understand how ready the people were to forget His honour and His all-seeing eye. They would bring something damaged or defective for His altar, and the priest would gladly overlook such tricks. It was really a terrible offence, and in effect it denied that He is the living God. Was the God of Israel like His selfish and professing worshippers? This is indeed what sin implies, and especially in divine things.
The standard is high because the animal stood for someone else. The offerer's own acceptance hung on it.
The bullock must be perfect to be accepted, to begin with. If there had been a single spot or blemish on that bullock, God could not have accepted it. And if the bullock was not accepted, the offerer was not accepted either, because the animal was offered for his acceptance. What does that point to? To the holy, spotless Person of the blessed Lord Jesus... passing through this world as the holy, sinless One and offering Himself without spot to God.
Verse 23 allowed some room: an animal with a limb too long or too short could still serve as a freewill offering. Verse 24 shuts that door.
No defect was allowed here either. There was one exception: a bull or a lamb with a limb too long or too short could be used for a free will offering, but not for a vow (vv. 21-23). But no animal that had been bruised or crushed or torn or cut was acceptable for any sacrifice.
Even the concession had a boundary, and it applied to everyone alike:
Yet nothing abnormal could be accepted, either in the wilderness or in the promised land. An unblemished male was required, because it represented the Holy One of God. And a stranger had no more licence than an Israelite.
The closing words of the verse never mention the altar at all.
Mutilation of God's creatures was not to be practised in the land.
The neighbouring law about a cow and its young points the same way:
The Lord trains His people in what is fitting... He also wants them to feel tenderly, even towards an animal that cannot speak or is already dead. He showed this when He forbade boiling a young goat in its mother's milk. All Scripture is against the coarse brutality that was normal among the nations who did not know the true God.
Israel later broke this very law, and the motive behind it was plain.
They offered the blind, the lame, and the sick for sacrifice. In doing so they broke one of the strictest commands in the Scriptures, and they broke it knowingly. In every case the animal offered on the altar was to be "without blemish" (see Lev. 22:17-25), so that it might be a more fitting type of Christ. But this meant giving God their best. These men looked over their herds and flocks with no sense left of God's claims, or of what the sacrifices meant. They were willing to give Him what was of no use to themselves.
The standard is not relaxed for those who know more, but raised.
But let us remember how much more wicked this is in a Christian. A Christian's very profession is to walk in the light, as God is in the light... We should not be less careful in our relationship than a Jew was in his. The least that suited either was to be honest before God and man. If not, the less we speak of grace, the better; nothing condemns looseness so much as the true grace of God.
- Refused — Nothing bruised, crushed, torn or cut may reach the altar. A damaged gift treats God as if He were as selfish as the worshipper, and denies that He is the living God.
- Why — The victim had to be flawless because it pictured the spotless Christ. God did not accept a blemished animal, and the offerer was not accepted with it.
- Limits — A freewill offering allowed a limb too long or short. But nothing bruised or crushed suited any sacrifice, and a stranger stood under the same rule as an Israelite.
- Land — The ban covers the practice, not just the offering. God's creatures were not to be mutilated anywhere in Israel. He was forming a people free from the brutality of the nations around them.
- Heart — Israel's later collapse shows what this guards against: giving God what costs nothing. The answer then and now is plain honesty before God and man.
Nor from the hand of the stranger shall ye present the bread of your God, of any of these; for their corruption is in them a defect is in them; they shall not be accepted for you.
The last line of the sacrifice laws closes a loophole: an Israelite could not buy a damaged animal from a foreigner and present it as the bread of his God. The reason is blunt — the flaw is in the animal, so God will not accept it.
Earlier the chapter allows one small concession. It never allows a different rule for outsiders.
Even the law tolerated a lower note in a voluntary peace offering, because man was given an unusual place there. Yet in the wilderness and in the promised land alike, God accepted nothing abnormal. An unblemished male was required, as representing the Holy One of God. And a stranger had no more licence than an Israelite.
What a worshipper brings shows what he thinks of the One receiving it.
Only what was absolutely perfect could suit the altar and answer to the heart of God. To offer a blemished thing to Him proved one thing: no true sense of what suited Him, and no real heart for Him. Trying to offer an imperfect sacrifice amounted to the horrible blasphemy of saying that anything was good enough for Him.
Every sacrifice pointed forward, and a marred one would have carried a lie about the One it pictured.
The need for this sinless offering was foretold in the types and shadows of the Old Testament. The Passover lamb had to be "without blemish, a male a year old" (Ex. 12), and every sacrifice offered to God had to be of the same unblemished kind. "But you shall not offer anything that has a blemish, for it will not be acceptable for you" (Lev. 22:20). God could not accept a blemished sacrifice as a picture of the sacrifice of Christ. So how shocking is the thought that He who was the substance of all the shadows had a blemish or the taint of sin in Him! To keep any such thought out of our minds, we are told this: when the time came to offer up the sacrifice, He "through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish to God" (Heb. 9:14).
The law of the burnt offering shows where all of this was heading.
The offerer had to bring it of his own free will. The correct rendering of Leviticus 1:3 is "for his acceptance." This reveals the great purpose of the burnt offering. Through Christ as the sin offering, the believer knows that all sins are paid for and put away. The burnt offering leads us higher. The spotless One offered Himself to God and we are accepted in Him.
Centuries later the same sins came back. The prophet treats these statutes as still in force.
Turn to the book of Malachi, and you see it at once. The small group who had returned to the land were breaking these instructions outrageously. The priests were offering "polluted food" on the altar of the LORD. They were offering blind animals in sacrifice, and also the lame and sick. They were challenged to offer such things to the governor and see what he would say. Offered to him it would be an insult; offered to God it was a shameful sin. So the reminder came that "the law of my servant Moses… the statutes and rules" (Mal. 4:4) had lost none of its force, though a thousand years had passed since it was given.
God required honesty from Israel. He asks no less of those who know more.
Let us remember how much worse it is in a Christian, whose very profession is to walk in the light as God is in the light. The true light already shines. We are not under law as Israel was. But we, who were once darkness, are made light in the Lord. We are called to shine as lights in a filthy world, holding out the word of life. Surely we should be no less careful in our relationship than a Jew was in his. The least that suited either was to be honest before God and man. If not, the less we speak of grace the better; nothing condemns looseness so much as the true grace of God.
- Same rule — the small concession for a freewill offering went no further. A stranger had no more licence than an Israelite.
- Same insult — only the perfect could suit the altar; a blemished gift amounted to saying that anything was good enough for Him.
- Same reason — the blemish is in the animal, so it could never picture the One who offered Himself without blemish to God.
- Same acceptance — the burnt offering was "for his acceptance"; the spotless One offered Himself, and we are accepted in Him.
- Same standard still — Malachi shows the statutes had lost none of their force. Those who walk in the light should be no less honest before God than Israel was.
And Jehovah spoke to Moses, saying,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
An ox, or a sheep, or a goat, when it is brought forth, shall be seven days under its dam; and from the eighth day and thenceforth it shall be accepted for an offering by fire to Jehovah.
Leviticus 22:27 puts a waiting week into the law of sacrifice: a newborn ox, sheep, or goat must stay with its mother before God will accept it as an offering. Two questions follow: why does God turn away a newborn, and why does the eighth day change everything?
One writer sees the timing as chosen, not practical. The count runs past the sabbath, and the day God names points to resurrection.
Here the animal, when brought forth, must be seven days under its mother. It was otherwise in nature. The Jews say a sabbath must pass over it. The Lord says from the eighth day and from then on it shall be accepted. The great point is not the test of creation or of the law, important as both are. It is the witness of the all-important resurrection day. On that day He rose who is the Beginning — not the first but the Last Adam, Firstborn from among the dead — so that He might have in all things the foremost place. Is it not His due?
The same eight-day count appears in the law of circumcision. One writer ties both commands to the same reason, then turns to the command that follows.
As to age, the law of circumcision is the law of offering, and for a similar reason: in its first seven days it was unclean, the stamp of the old creation was upon it. Here the old creation is set aside. Yet in the next command — not to kill the young and its mother on the same day — the natural bonds are still recognized.
Eight is seven plus one: the week finished and a new week begun. The same writer explains what that count carries:
simply showing that it is complete by indicating a new beginning, as the eighth day is the first of a new week. It therefore speaks of what is new, in contrast with the old, and so of the new covenant and the new creation. So circumcision was to be performed on the eighth day: "the putting off the body of the flesh" (Col. 2:11) is connected with the new creation in Christ Jesus for good works (Eph. 2:10).
A reference work on biblical numbers says the same in one line. Eight is "a new departure outside of, but connected with, creation-order: so in resurrection." It adds that "the resurrection-day may be called the eighth, the day after the seventh, the Jewish sabbath" (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
Exodus gives the matching command about firstborn animals. The week with the mother is not an escape; the animal is already God's.
In a special way God said of every firstborn, "It is MINE." This implied that it was to be offered in sacrifice; and with every clean animal this was the case. "The firstborn of your sons you shall give to me. You shall do the same with your oxen and with your sheep: seven days it shall be with its mother; on the eighth day you shall give it to me." (Ex. 22:29-30.)
Age sits beside soundness in the same list of requirements. God set the terms, not the one bringing the offering.
From verse 17 to the end of the chapter we have rules for offerings brought by the ordinary Israelite or even by a foreigner. Every offerer had to know the holiness of the Lord to whom he brought the offering. He had to see that no blemish of any kind marked the offering, and that it was not some very small and feeble creature just born. All was to be done as God ordained. The Lord made them holy and set them apart, and they were to treat Him as holy among them.
Not every writer presses the symbolism. One records the command and leaves the meaning open.
When a bull, sheep or a goat was born it must be allowed seven days with its mother before being used as an offering. No doubt it will take spiritual discernment to understand the spiritual significance of these things.
So commentators differ. Some read the eighth day as resurrection and new creation. Others record the command and go no further.
- Claimed — the newborn already belongs to God. The week with its mother delays the giving; it does not weaken the claim.
- Waiting — the first seven days carry "the stamp of the old creation." The same count governs circumcision and sacrifice alike.
- Eighth — eight is the week finished and a new week begun: a new beginning, new creation, resurrection.
- Accepted — only from that day does God receive the offering. He sets the standard, not the one who brings it.
- Foremost — the day God chose points to the Last Adam. He rose as Firstborn from among the dead, to have first place in everything.
A cow, or sheep -- it and its young shall ye not slaughter in one day.
Leviticus 22 closes a long list of rules about which animals God would accept at His altar. This line turns from the altar to the animal itself. Why would a book about sacrifice pause over the death of a beast?
The rule sits inside strict sacrificial law, yet it says nothing about the value of the offering. One commentator reads it as God training a refinement into His people. He links it to another law, which forbids boiling a young goat in its mother's milk:
The LORD grows a sense of what is fitting in His people. He commanded sacrifice to be offered strictly and with reverence. One aim was to make guilt and self-will felt and confessed. A greater aim was to make them feel and confess the one Saviour, the only sacrifice that has power for sin before Him. But He also wanted tenderness of feeling, even where a mute or dead animal was involved. That is why He forbade boiling a young goat in its mother's milk. All Scripture stands against the coarse cruelty that was normal among the nations who did not know the true God.
The verses just before this one rule out an animal in its first seven days. That week carries the stamp of the old creation. This command points the other way, as one writer notes:
In its first seven days the animal was unclean. The stamp of the old creation was upon it… Here the old creation is set aside. But in the second command, not to kill the young and its mother on the same day, the natural links are recognised.
So God sets the old creation aside at the altar, and still respects the bond He built into the animal.
Kelly, writing on the same law about the young goat, shows what such rules shut out. This cruelty was not random. It was religious practice among the surrounding nations:
One of the aims of Satan's power in idolatry, as another writer reminds me, was to destroy the order, the affections, and the beauty that God has established in nature. Christianity respects all such fitting ways, even while it lifts us above them. Satan drags them down in every way by what is unnatural. Boiling a young goat in its mother's milk was one example, and it struck at tender, kind affection. Anyone who knows even a little about the horrors of idolatry will remember how widespread and organised such outrages were. The law forbade all of it.
Why does a detail like this sit beside laws about God's house and His altar? One writer, commenting on the command about the young goat in Exodus, answers with a question of his own:
Could it be to show us this? God demands that men honour His rights and the rights of His house with great care, and He also wills that we treat even the lowliest of His creatures fittingly. God appointed the goat's milk to keep her kid alive. So it is not fitting to take what God appointed for life and use it in connection with death. Let us all weigh whether this principle may have some spiritual application for us today.
The chapter ends with God pressing obedience and the honour of His name. One writer ties even the least command to that:
So even what seemed the least of God's commandments had to be kept with care. His people were not to profane His name but to hallow it, for He had brought them out of Egypt.
Kelly puts a sharp question to anyone who claims God's name while ignoring His word:
Can anything be emptier, by its very nature, than professing God's name without constant reference to His word and obedience to His will?
One writer states the two rules plainly, then says their deeper sense takes work to see:
The Lord adds conditions that are interesting when it comes to whether an offering is acceptable. When a bull, sheep or goat was born, it had to be left seven days with its mother before it could be used as an offering. Also, the mother was not to be killed on the same day as her young. No doubt it will take spiritual discernment to understand the spiritual meaning of these things.
- Fitness. God trains His people to feel what is fitting. That training reaches even to an animal.
- Bond. God Himself recognises the tie between a mother and her young.
- Contrast. Idolatry worked to destroy the affections God set in nature. This law stood against it.
- Reach. The God who guards the honour of His altar also guards His lowliest creature.
- Name. Even the least command had to be kept with care, so that God's people hallowed His name instead of profaning it.
And when ye sacrifice a sacrifice of thanksgiving to Jehovah, ye shall sacrifice it for your acceptance.
Leviticus 22 lists what God accepts as an offering and what He refuses. It closes with the thanksgiving offering — a peace offering from a grateful worshipper — and with a phrase that translations render two ways.
Older English versions say the worshipper brings the sacrifice "of his own voluntary will." One writer read the phrase differently here. He also noted that the same wording does not carry the same sense in every verse:
"Of his own voluntary will" should really be "for his acceptance." One passage made me question it, but I believe that is what it should be. In chapter 22 you may make a difference; in verse 19 it means "free-will," but in verse 29 it should be "for his acceptance."
Read that way, the verse is not measuring how willing the worshipper felt. The sacrifice is what makes him acceptable. Commentators differ here. Others keep the older sense: the offering was entirely voluntary. Either way, it does not buy standing with God. The worshipper brings it because he already has a reason to give thanks.
Of the peace offerings, this one asks the least of the worshipper. One writer adds that it is also not the strongest thing God works in a believer:
Thanksgiving is simple, and God looks for it from the simplest believer. But it does not sustain a person the way devotedness of heart does. Christ and His sacrifice, known more deeply, create that devotedness in some who know God's grace better. There is no real communion apart from faith in Christ's sacrifice and the thanksgiving it calls forth.
The same writer notes that this offering came with leavened bread as well as unleavened — "for man's taint is in his rendering of thanks." Our thanks are real, but never pure.
This thanks is never a mood on its own. It is tied to a slain animal on an altar. One writer applies that to the bread and the cup at the Lord's Supper:
When you break the bread at the Lord's Supper, it is the communion of the body of Christ. By that act you make a profession before all angels and powers. Before God, you are identified with all the value of the work of the Lord Jesus when He offered Himself. If it is not as I say, what is it? Only an empty form, a mere profession, something that is not real. Read Leviticus 7:15 and you will see that any worship apart from the sacrifice of Christ is only an abomination to God.
Verse 30 allows no leftovers. Nothing was to survive the night. One writer explains the rule by what thanks is made of:
A sacrifice of thanksgiving involves right feelings and human sympathy, so it must be eaten on the same day. It must not be held any longer away from the altar, from the offering up, and from the LORD Himself: "I am the LORD." That is the salt that keeps it pure. There must be faith, and more than feeling, which is human and at best short-lived.
Thanks was held to a tighter rule than the other peace offerings:
If the sacrifice was a vow or a voluntary offering, the flesh could be eaten on the day it was presented, and the rest on the next day as well. Anything still left had to be burnt on the third day.
There is a second reason for the one-day rule. God's giving does not pause overnight:
The law singles out the peace offering of thanksgiving too (vv. 29-30). It had to be a completely voluntary offering, eaten on the day it was offered, with nothing left overnight. This repeats Leviticus 7:15. Just as God's mercies are "new every morning" (Lam. 3:22-23), so our occasions of thanksgiving should always be new and fresh.
The animal is gone; the sacrifice of praise remains. The one-day limit gives way to something wider:
No, reader, do we really want to please God, to gladden His heart and to glorify His name? Then we will give our heart's attention to Hebrews 13:15, and seek to offer the sacrifice of praise continually. Yes, "continually." Not just now and then, when everything goes smoothly and pleasantly. Come what may, it is our high and holy privilege to offer the sacrifice of praise to God.
- Accepted. Some read the disputed phrase as "for your acceptance," others as "of your own free will." Either way, the worshipper is not buying favour. He is responding to it.
- Simple. God looks for thanksgiving from the simplest believer. It came with leavened bread, because our thanks carry our taint — and He welcomes them anyway.
- Anchored. Thanks cut off from the sacrifice is an empty form. Worship apart from the sacrifice of Christ is an abomination to God.
- Same-day. Nothing was left till morning. Feeling is human and short-lived, so it had to be kept near the altar it came from.
- Continual. Mercies are new every morning, so thanks must be new too — offered continually, whatever the day brings.
On that day shall it be eaten ye shall leave none of it until morning I am Jehovah.
Leviticus 22 ends its rules for acceptable sacrifice with one last word about the peace offering — the sacrifice a worshipper ate as a meal after God received His part. Thanks brought this way had to be eaten the same day. Commentators find in that small command a question about all worship: how close must our thanks stay to the sacrifice that makes thanks possible?
The same law appears earlier in Leviticus. There, a peace offering brought for a vow or given freely could be eaten on a second day. One brought for thanksgiving could not. One writer explains why the two differ:
If the offerer brought it for thanksgiving, only he and those with him could eat it, and only on the day he offered it. If he brought it as a vow or a voluntary offering, he could eat from it for two days, but never on the third. Communion with God is a real thing. Its outward show was not to continue after the inward energy had died away. A vow or a free-will offering showed a deeper sense of God's goodness than the feeling that stirs the heart to thanksgiving. It spoke of something given up to God, for a time or forever. Thanksgiving spoke only of gratitude for something received. That spirit is more short-lived, so the offering that expressed it could only be eaten on the day it was brought.
One writer explains what the timing protected:
In the peace offering, if anyone ate the flesh of the sacrifice on a day too far from the day the fat was burned on the altar to God, it was not communion but sin… The joy of the worshipper, shown by his eating of the sacrifice, had to stay in immediate connection with the offering made to God. Otherwise it was profane.
One writer weighs simple thanks against a deeper devotion:
Thanksgiving is simple, and it is expected from the simplest believer. But it cannot hold a person up like the devoted heart that Christ and His sacrifice, known more deeply, create in some who know God's grace better. There is no real communion apart from faith in Christ's sacrifice and the thanksgiving it calls forth.
Thanks given out loud is not only for God:
A brother may freely give thanks to God by speaking of the greatness and the glory of Christ. It becomes food for the souls of those who have the privilege of hearing it.
One writer links the ban on leftovers to the way God's mercy comes to us:
The peace offering of thanksgiving is singled out too (vv. 29-30). It had to be brought entirely of the offerer's own free will, eaten the same day it was offered, with nothing left overnight. This repeats Leviticus 7:15. Just as God's mercies are "new every morning" (Lam. 3:22-23), so our occasions of thanksgiving should be always new and fresh.
One writer applies the link between worship and sacrifice to Christians today:
If any worship or praise to God is not connected with the value of the work of His Son, it is simply an abomination in His sight… Nothing makes God so jealous as the way people worship Him, and that is usually the last thing Christians think about. "As long as we are saved, and get to heaven," they say, "it matters very little how we worship God; it is a secondary thing altogether." But Nadab and Abihu offered strange fire before the Lord, and they were struck dead. They had not come to Him in the way God had commanded.
Nadab and Abihu were Aaron's sons, who brought fire God had not asked for.
The verse ends with God naming Himself. That line closes command after command in these chapters. (Older translations print the name here as Jehovah.)
How solemn, too, is the seal stamped again and again on keeping and doing His commands: "I am Jehovah." So He demands obedience, and He completely forbids the profaning of His holy name, so that He might be held holy in His people… Can anything be more empty than professing God's name without constant reference to His word and obedience to His will?
- Same day. The thanksgiving offering had to be eaten the day it was brought. A vow or free-will offering could be eaten the next day too, but never the third.
- Same source. The worshipper's meal had to stay close in time to what was given to God. Cut off from it, the meal was no longer communion but profane.
- Same freshness. Nothing was kept overnight. God's mercies are new every morning, and thanks should be new too.
- Same reach. Thanksgiving is the simplest offering, expected from the simplest believer. Spoken out loud, it feeds everyone who hears.
- Same Lord. The command closes with God naming Himself. He demands obedience, and professing His name without obeying His word is empty.
And ye shall observe my commandments and do them I am Jehovah.
Leviticus 22 has just closed a long list of rules about offerings and holy food, and this verse gathers all of it into two words: keep, and do. The signature "I am the LORD" raises the chapter's real question — why should such small details matter?
The verse is not a new subject. It seals everything the chapter has already said.
The high priest and the priests must beware of uncleanness on them when they approach the holy things. If they do not, they will be cut off from before Jehovah, for He is the One who makes them holy. But those who bring any offering, whether vowed or voluntary, must beware of any defect in what they present. It is completely unacceptable. To these rules a final word is now added.
That final word reaches back over rules that could easily be dismissed as small — the age of an animal, an offering eaten the same day. Nothing in the list is released from it.
So even what seemed to be the least of God's commandments were to be carefully observed, so that God's name should not be profaned but hallowed by His people, for He had brought them out of Egypt (vv. 31-33).
We obey easily when we can see the reason. A command we cannot explain shows whether we are obeying at all.
In closing, it is worth noticing that God's word often tests us with a rule that seems trivial to us — a rule that rests on His command alone. Where we can point to something clearly moral in a command, that morality presses the command on us so strongly that we can lose sight of it simply as a command. If I obey only where I know the why of the command, that is not obedience, properly speaking. If I am truly obedient, I can no longer raise questions about what I know to be from God. So the whole temper and spirit of my life may show itself when I break some command that seems trivial to me — a small matter, whether in this one thing I do His will or not.
The command gives no argument, only a name. Behind it stands a relationship, and holiness follows from it.
The personal holiness of God's people — their complete separation from every kind of uncleanness — flows out of their relationship to Him. It is not the principle of "keep away, I am holier than you." It is simply this: God is holy, and everyone brought into association with Him must be holy too. Jehovah had said, "Do not touch," not because an Israelite was holier in himself than a stranger, but because Jehovah was holy and Israel belonged to Him.
God does not leave the standard to a rule. He stands behind it in person.
Notice how in this book, when the details of evil are judged, Jehovah puts Himself forward in person. He is the One whose character rejects these things at once and makes them impossible for His people — "I am the LORD." The people were in relationship with Him; He made them holy. See also the two chapters that follow.
The same seal that demands obedience also forbids treating God's name lightly.
How solemn, too, is the repeated seal stamped on observing and doing His commands: "I am the LORD." He demands obedience, and He completely forbids profaning His holy name, so that His people would treat Him as holy. For it was indeed Jehovah who was making them holy, He who brought them out of the land of Egypt to be their God: I am the LORD. Such was their place as His people here below on the earth, a witness to the nations. Can anything be emptier than professing God's name while never turning to His word and never doing His will?
We still sort God's instructions into important ones and ones we can ignore.
The last few verses of the chapter sum up the things we have briefly considered. They press home one point. Many of the details laid down may at first sight seem trifling, but they are still the things "which the LORD commanded Moses… on the day that He commanded the people of Israel to bring their offerings." In the same way we may read 1 Corinthians 12-14 and think that some of Paul's instructions for the order of the gatherings of the church of God are trifling. But let us not overlook verse 37 of chapter 14. The "commandments of the Lord" through the apostle Paul bind us just as much as the commandments of the Lord through Moses, though we are now under grace and not law.
- Seal. The verse is the closing word over a whole chapter of rules, and it lets nothing in the list go.
- Ground. The reason given is not usefulness but a relationship: God is holy, and His people belong to Him. They were no better in themselves than anyone else.
- Person. God does not hide behind a regulation; He puts Himself forward as the One whose character rejects the evil and who makes His people holy.
- Test. The command that seems trivial is the sharpest test, because obeying only where we see the reason is not obedience.
- Reach. Israel's obedience guarded God's name before the nations. Paul's instructions bind Christians just as truly, though we are under grace and not law.
And ye shall not profane my holy name; but I will be hallowed among the children of Israel I am Jehovah who do hallow you,
Leviticus 22 closes a long list of rules about priests, offerings and clean and unclean things with one point: the honour of God's name. Two questions follow: what does it mean to profane that name, and why does the God who calls for holiness also call Himself the One who makes His people holy?
The verse follows a call to keep God's commandments. One writer ties even the smallest of those rules to the honour of God's name, and back to the rescue from Egypt.
So even what seemed the least of God's commandments had to be kept with care. His people were not to profane God's name but to hallow it, for He had brought them out of Egypt.
Another writer notes how often the chapter stamps its instructions with the words "I am the LORD."
How solemn, too, is the repeated seal set on keeping and doing His commands: "I am the LORD." He demands obedience, and He forbids all profaning of His holy name, so that He might be hallowed in His people. For it was the LORD who hallowed them — He who brought them out of the land of Egypt to be their God: I am the LORD. Such was their place as His people here on earth, a witness to the nations. Can anything be emptier than claiming God's name without constant reference to His word and obedience to His will?
Sanctifying had two sides: what suited God's presence, and what He asked of the people who came near.
So there was what suited God Himself, and there was also what was required of those who approached. The priests, Levites and people were often called to sanctify themselves, so that they were ceremonially fit to approach God and His sanctuary (Leviticus 20:7; Numbers 11:18). God declared, "Among those who are near me I will be sanctified" (Leviticus 10:3). Anyone who comes to God must come with reverence, and apart from whatever does not suit Him.
The verse does not leave Israel to make themselves holy. It names God as the One who makes them holy. One writer holds both sides together: God's holiness, and the care it asked of every worshipper.
Everyone who brought an offering had to know the holiness of the LORD who received it. He had to see that no blemish of any kind marked the offering... Everything had to be done as God ordained. The LORD had hallowed them, and so set them apart; and He was to be hallowed among them.
One writer finds the reason behind the demand in an earlier chapter of Leviticus.
They are bound to holiness and to sanctify themselves in practice, because they are in the house, and the Master of it is holy. Sanctification assumed that they already stood in an acknowledged relationship with God. He will have everyone who lives in His house clean, according to His own cleanness.
The rescue from Egypt stands behind the whole command. The same writer traces where Scripture first speaks of holiness.
Until that redemption there is no dwelling of God with man — not in paradise, not with Abraham. Even where redemption is only pictured, God says in Exodus 29, "I have brought them out of the land of Egypt that I may dwell among them." God's dwelling with man is never seen before this, and holiness is never spoken of till then. Redemption is necessary for man to be near God, and that, morally understood, is holiness.
- Redeemed. God brought them out of Egypt to be their God. Rescue comes first; every demand in the verse stands on that ground.
- Sanctified. He calls Himself the One who hallows them. He gives the holiness He then asks them to show.
- Reverent. He is hallowed among those who come near. So no one comes to Him casually, or while holding on to what does not suit Him.
- Obedient. They guard the name by keeping His commandments, down to the ones that look least important. A profession without obedience to His word is empty.
- Visible. Their place was on earth as His people, a witness to the nations. God's aim was that He be hallowed in them.
who brought you out of the land of Egypt, to be your God I am Jehovah.
Leviticus closes this block of priestly laws with a reason, not another command. The God who demands unblemished offerings and a name kept holy is the God who rescued Israel from Egypt, and that rescue sets the measure of what He asks.
The order matters. God rescues first; holiness follows. One writer traces this right through Scripture:
Until that redemption there is no dwelling of God with man — not in paradise, not with Abraham. Even when redemption is only shown in a picture, God says, "I have brought them out of the land of Egypt that I might dwell among them." So God's dwelling with man is never seen before this, and holiness is never spoken of before this either. Redemption must come first if man is to be near God, and that nearness, in moral terms, is holiness.
Another writer states that link plainly, and defines what holiness means:
There is an inseparable connection between redemption and holiness. What the Lord has redeemed He claims for Himself. Here we have a definition of sanctification; it is separation to God. But notice that salvation out of the house of slavery is the foundation of it all.
The rescue had a destination. Leaving Egypt was not the goal; belonging to God was:
The deliverance matches the judgment in its extent. At the same time it sets the measure of personal sanctification, which is tied to the deliverance itself. "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine." And again, "the people whom I formed for Myself that they might declare My praise." So too, after Israel's full deliverance from the land of Egypt, God sends them this message through Moses: "You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you TO MYSELF. Now therefore, if you will indeed obey My voice and keep My covenant, you shall be My treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is Mine. And you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and A HOLY NATION."
God commands His people to obey and not to profane His name. Yet He is the One who makes them holy:
How solemn is the repeated seal stamped on keeping and doing His commands: "I am Jehovah." He demands obedience, and He forbids any profaning of His holy name, so that He might be hallowed in His people. For indeed it was Jehovah who hallowed them, He who brought them out of the land of Egypt to be their God: I am Jehovah. Such was their place as His people here below on the earth, a witness to the nations.
The chapter's rules about animals, timing and blemishes can look like fussy detail. Yet the closing verse makes even the smallest of them a matter of God's name:
So they were to keep with care even what seemed the least of God's commandments. In this way His people would not profane God's name but hallow it, for He had brought them out of Egypt.
Behind every one of those rules stands a Person, not a system:
Notice how this book judges evil in detail. Each time, Jehovah puts Himself forward as the One whose character both rejects these things and makes them impossible for His people — "I am the Lord." The people were in relationship with Him; He sanctified them.
The chapter demanded offerings without defect. Commentators see that demand fully answered in Christ:
When we turn from the picture to the One it points to, we find what is perfect, as always, and in full agreement with God's thoughts and demands. We need to quote only one verse about what we have been looking at. We know that we have been redeemed "with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot."
The verse also opens a door into the next chapter:
Chapter 22 ended with a solemn reminder to Israel of the holiness of Jehovah, who had brought them up from the land of Egypt to be their God. Chapter 23 opens with His desire to gather before Him the people He had redeemed.
- Brought out. Redemption comes first; God's dwelling with man and any call to holiness only follow it.
- Brought to Himself. The exodus had a destination — not just out of Egypt, but to God, as His treasured possession and holy nation.
- Brought under His claim. What the Lord has redeemed He claims for Himself; sanctification means being set apart to God.
- Brought by His own hand. God Himself makes His people holy. That is why even the smallest command mattered to His name.
- Brought before Him. God redeems by a lamb without blemish, then gathers His people to Himself as a witness to the nations.