Leviticus 6:8–7:38

These seven verses are a fresh command which the LORD spoke to Moses. Even so, they are the proper end of chapter 5, as the Hebrew Bible has them. They should not open Leviticus 6, as they do in the English Bible… That cuts them off from Leviticus 5:14-19, which they complete. It also upsets the right order of the laws of the offerings, which begin at what is here numbered Leviticus 6:8.

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives further details: how to bring the offering to the Lord, and above all how the priests were to deal with the parts not burned before Him.

The first chapter of this priest's guide book sets out the details of what was due to the LORD, but in chapter 6 you have the law of the burnt offering. In the first chapter, the words spoken were for the common people, for every worshipper in the assembly. But the law of the offering in chapter 6 was for Aaron and his sons, the priests. The priests were let into closer secrets, if I may put it that way, about the nature of this worship.

Most of these laws speak to Aaron and his sons (6:8, 14, 19, 24). So they show us how the priest stands in relation to the offerings. In the law of the trespass offering and the peace offering we find no address to Aaron and his sons. The right way to study the offerings is this: first read what the beginning of Leviticus says, then read the law of each offering alongside it, to learn how each relates to the priest and the people.

The word "law" means "divine teaching" (Torah). In the details of the offerings in the first five chapters, the offerer is more in view. But in the law of the offerings, the priest is more in view — how the offerings were to be handled, offered and dealt with… So the law of the offerings teaches the priesthood what is involved in these things, and the right way to present them for the pleasure of God.

The phrase "Aaron and his sons" comes up again and again. It puts the priestly family in the foreground, and every child of God, without exception, belongs to that family. It is tied especially to "the law of the offerings," which shows the principle that must govern our service to God in the matter of the offerings.

In general this law stresses the priest's portion. The burnt offering never stops (Lev. 6:8-13); its fire keeps burning, and that reminds us that the work of Christ is effective forever. Whenever an Israelite turned his eyes toward the altar during the whole year, he could see the glow of fire. It reminded him that the sacrifice was always before God. Our Lord's sacrifice is the same — of eternal value. There is never a time when God's holiness stops being satisfied by what Christ has offered.

And how blessed that the night is mentioned! The night is the present age; and it will be followed by the morning, when the day dawns. What comfort this gives us! We are down here in the wilderness, tested, tried, failing and stumbling. All that time our perfect burnt offering is ever present with God, and the sweet savour rises from it.

Spoken to Moses, this was a command for the priestly house. All who belonged to it were concerned... The law of the Burnt Offering is set out clearly here. It was to be on the hearth upon the altar all night until the morning. Without this, it might have been thought that it was only for the day, so that the offerer could rejoice in seeing what was for his acceptance. Here, on the contrary, the stress falls on its burning "all night until the morning, and the fire of the altar shall be kept burning on it."

It was called the burnt-offering because it burned all night upon the altar. By day and by night the burnt-sacrifice was being consumed, but by day other sacrifices were burnt upon it. By night, with its accompanying meal offering (Num. 28:5), it was the only sacrifice upon the bronze altar. So God arranged to have the self-surrender of the Lord Jesus to do His will in death always before Him... Night after night that lone column of smoke rose to heaven. Those who kept the charge of the whole congregation may have understood little about it. Yet there was a voice in it for God. In the middle of midnight darkness and silence it spoke to Him of that act of His Son, by which He would be for ever glorified.

The fire on the altar consumed the burnt offering and the fat of the peace offering. It was the fitting expression of divine holiness. That holiness found in Christ and His perfect sacrifice a proper material to feed on. That fire was never to go out. There was to be the constant maintenance of what set forth the action of divine holiness. Through the dark and silent watches of the night, the fire blazed on the altar of God.

The perpetuity of the burnt offering (Lev. 6:8-13), seen in its continual burning, reminds us of the eternal efficacy of the work of Christ. At any time in the year, an Israelite could turn his eyes toward the altar. He would see the glow of fire, and it reminded him that the sacrifice was always before God. So it is with our Lord's sacrifice — of eternal value. There is never a time when the holiness of God ceases to be satisfied by what Christ has offered.

It was burning "all night until the morning." In the darkness of the night, Israel was asleep, or perhaps grumbling in their tents. In the middle of that darkness the sweet savour of the sacrifice was going up before God. Is it not night now?... If we drift away from the Lord in heart and back into this world — right away from the Lord — is our acceptance before God changed? No; for the sweet savour of the sacrifice of Christ before God is as fresh as ever, and in that we are accepted... Our appreciation of it may change; sadly, it does.

This continual burnt offering, with its fire that never went out, is the type of Christ. He continually offers Himself to God, and in Him all believers have the assurance of their full acceptance. It was different with the sin offering. There could not be a continuous sin offering, because Christ giving Himself as an expiatory sacrifice cannot be a continuous act. But it is different with the burnt offering. While on earth He always presented Himself before God, and the fire of His devotion never went out. So He continues in the heavenly sanctuary, appearing in the presence of God for us. And how blessed that the night is mentioned! The night is the present age, and it will be followed by the morning, when the day dawns.

The priest who made the offering carefully put on the linen garments that spoke of spotless righteousness. These were what the high priest wore when he entered the holy of holies on the day of atonement. Yet the priest had to put them on even to take up the ashes of the burnt offering that the fire had burned on the altar, and to lay them beside it.

Thirdly, the text plainly says that the linen undergarments were to cover the flesh, reaching "from the hips to the thighs" (Exodus 28:42). Activity of the flesh — flesh on show — and priestly service cannot go together. We should note in passing that the Lord Jesus had no sinful flesh: "in him there is no sin" (1 John 3:5).

The word used for these ashes appears only with the sacrifices, and it literally means "fat." Some think that is because the fat was burned on the altar and would soak into the ashes. Whether or not that is so, the word is significant and suggestive. Ashes are the witness that the fire has done its work, the witness of a completed and accepted sacrifice. So the margin of Psalm 20:3 reads, "The Lord turn to ashes your burnt sacrifice." That explains the word translated "accept." This witness of an accepted sacrifice is not a sign of sorrow — the ordinary word carries that. Nor does it speak of worthlessness and emptiness. There is nothing worthless in connection with the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Here the priest stands as a picture of Christ, and the white linen garment sets out Christ's personal righteousness. He gave Himself up to the death of the cross to do the will of God. Then He entered heaven in His own eternal righteousness, carrying with Him the memorials of His finished work. Those ashes, placed beside the altar, showed that the fire had consumed the sacrifice — that it was not only a completed sacrifice but an accepted one. The ashes of the burnt offering declared the acceptance of the sacrifice. The ashes of the sin offering declared the judgement of the sin.

Everything was completely consumed when Christ died. There is no repetition of His death, and no fresh sprinkling of blood.

Looking at the ashes, one could say, "The fire has fully done its work." Looking at the death of our blessed Lord, we can say, "All is finished. Divine justice can ask no more." Fittingly, then, this witness of a perfect work lies on the east side of the altar, toward the sunrise. It suggests that nothing now remains after the cross but our Lord's resurrection. That resurrection is also the dawning of a new eternal day for all who take hold of the infinite value of His finished work.

Every morning the priest had to put on his linen garments. These emphasise the moral purity of the Lord Jesus as great High Priest. He then removed the ashes from the altar and put them beside the altar. He was not to treat even the burned remains carelessly. Then the priest changed his garments and carried the ashes outside the camp to a clean place. What remained was only the reminder that the sacrifice had done its work. So the sacrifice of Christ will never be forgotten.

Psalm 20 stands suggestively close to the great sacrificial Psalm 22, the sin offering psalm. There we read, "Remember all your offerings and accept your burnt sacrifice." The word "accept" means, word for word, "turn to ashes." ... Used of a sacrifice, the word is "fat ashes" — which suggests the richness of what they speak of. Looking at the ashes, one could say, "The fire has fully done its work." In the same way, looking at the death of our blessed Lord, we can say: all is finished. Divine justice can ask no more. So this witness of a perfect work is fittingly placed on the east side of the altar, toward the sunrise. It suggests that nothing remains now after the cross but our Lord's resurrection — the dawn of a new eternal day for all who take hold of the infinite value of His finished work.

To outward eyes they might have seemed no different from ordinary ashes. Yet they had been on the altar. So they were to be dealt with as God directed, and placed in a clean place.

Then we read of the careful clothing of the offering priest with the linen garments that spoke of spotless righteousness. These were what the high priest wore when he entered the holy of holies on the day of atonement. The priest had to put them on even to lift the ashes of the burnt offering that the fire had consumed on the altar, and to place them beside it. But he took these off and put on other garments to carry the ashes at last to a clean place outside the camp.

Here the priest stands, as a picture, in the place of Christ. The white linen garment shows His personal righteousness. He gave Himself up to the death of the cross to carry out the will of God. He has entered heaven in His own eternal righteousness, bearing with Him the memorials of His finished work. The ashes declared the completion of the sacrifice, and God's acceptance of it. ... The ashes of the burnt offering declared the acceptance of the sacrifice. The ashes of the sin offering declared the judgement of the sin.

In Leviticus 6:10-11 the priest carried the ashes of all that was burnt on the bronze altar outside the camp "to a clean place." Connect this with Leviticus 4:12, where the body of the sin offering bull was burnt at the same spot. Whatever differences of detail are appointed, both offerings were killed on one spot. In the end their ashes mingle outside the camp. They picture one Christ, and one and the same work of death and judgment-bearing, while both are "most holy."

Then the priest was to take off his garments and put on others. He was to carry the ashes outside the camp of the tabernacle into a clean place, the place reserved for the ashes. He was to handle and keep them with care. Why? Because they were a memorial of that sacrifice in the holy place. Beside the altar, the ashes were a witness to the priests themselves ... but outside, the ashes were a witness for the whole camp. So the death of Christ has its place in the life of the family of God, and in the worship of the people of God. It has its place also as a witness to the whole world.

The fire on the altar consumed the burnt offering, and the fat of the peace offering. It was the fitting expression of divine holiness. That holiness found proper material to feed on in Christ and His perfect sacrifice. That fire was never to go out. What showed the action of divine holiness had to be kept up without a break. Through the dark and silent watches of the night, the fire blazed on the altar of God.

The burnt offering went on without a break (Lev. 6:8-13). Its continual burning reminds us that the work of Christ is effective forever. Whenever an Israelite looked toward the altar during the whole year, he could see the glow of fire. It reminded him that the sacrifice was always before God. Our Lord's sacrifice is the same — of eternal value. There is never a time when what Christ has offered stops satisfying the holiness of God.

Rekindling the fire? No. That was never to go out (Lev. 6:12). What, then, was he doing? He was re-arranging the altar. He removed the ashes left from the evening burnt offering, put fresh wood on the fire, and laid the morning burnt offering on it. All night the fire had been burning, kept up by the evening burnt-offering. All night God had seen what was well pleasing to Him. The column of smoke rising through the night spoke to Him while the people in the vast camp were fast asleep. It spoke of the death of His Son, and of His self-surrender to God's will. That reminder was never to be absent from the eye of God. We rightly think of how that sacrifice has perfectly met our need. God thinks also of what it is to Him.

There was a fire which everyone engaged in priestly service should have been familiar with. It was the one that burned continually upon the bronze altar. (Lev. 6:12-13.) It met the eye of everyone approaching from outside. The bronze altar was the first thing within the court. There could be no approach to God apart from the death of the victim upon this bronze altar. The fire also gives us a picture of the judgment of God. In Leviticus 1 the fire consuming the burnt offering only brings out more fully the sweet fragrance which God received from the death of the unblemished victim. This judgment of God, fully searching Christ on the cross, found only what God could delight in.

Apart from the Lord's claim on the fat and the blood, the peace offering was for shared joy, not at all for expiation. It was thanksgiving. It was not for Aaron and his sons like the grain offering. It was for the united joy of all who took part — the Lord, the priest, the offerer and his guests. But the Lord's portion was to be burnt on the burnt offering. So on an occasion of joy the link was clear with that deepest display of Christ's obedience right up to death.

I remembered times when I had tried hard to revive old enthusiasm and past devotion to Christ and His service by dwelling on them. I was raking together the smouldering ashes of the past, and I found it all in vain. As I thought it over I said to myself again and again: it cannot be done. If the fire is to keep burning, it will not be by dwelling on the past, but by finding fresh fuel. The present and the future will be as joyful and vigorous as the past in no other way. The fire must have fresh fuel every day if it is to burn with a steady glow.

Notice, as I read these verses, how this continuity is emphasised and repeated. "It is the burnt offering, because of its burning on the altar all night until the morning" (verse 9). "It shall not be put out" (verse 12). "Fire shall be kept burning on the altar continually; it shall not go out" (verse 13). Why do these words occur over and over again? God repeats nothing in His word, except to press it more deeply upon our forgetful hearts.

The fire on the altar consumed the burnt offering, and the fat of the peace offering. It was the fitting expression of divine holiness. That holiness found proper material to feed on in Christ and His perfect sacrifice. That fire was never to go out. This showing of divine holiness in action was to continue without a break. Through the dark and silent watches of the night, the fire blazed on the altar of God.

The perpetuity of the burnt offering (Lev. 6:8-13), seen in its continual burning, reminds us of the eternal efficacy of the work of Christ. All year round, an Israelite could turn his eyes toward the altar and see the glow of the fire. It reminded him that the sacrifice was always before God. So is our Lord's sacrifice — of eternal value. There is never a moment when God's holiness stops resting satisfied in what Christ has offered.

By day other sacrifices were burned on the altar as well. By night the burnt offering, with its grain offering, was the only sacrifice on the bronze altar. So God arranged that the self-surrender of the Lord Jesus, giving Himself up to do God's will in death, would always be before Him. This law hints, and the New Testament plainly teaches, how precious that act of the Lord was to God. The Lord Himself spoke of it as the ground on which the Father's love flows out to Him in a special way (John 10:17). Night after night that lone column of smoke went up toward heaven. Those keeping the charge of the whole congregation may have understood little about it. Yet there was a voice in it for God, to whom it went up. In the middle of midnight darkness and silence, it spoke to Him of that act of His Son, by which He would be for ever glorified. It was a secret then, known in any fullness only to God... All night to the morning it was burning, while the world was asleep.

In chapter 6:9, the point is — and a very important one it is — that the fire was to be burning always. As in Isaiah 6, all came from the bronze altar. There is no real prayer or praise, or anything of that kind, except in connection with the sacrifice of Christ... Take it as a rule: use no fire except from the bronze altar.

I remembered times when I had tried hard to revive old enthusiasm and past devotion to Christ and His service by dwelling on them. I was really raking together the smouldering ashes of the past, and I found it all in vain... If the fire is to keep burning, and if the present and future are to be as joyful and strong as the past, it will not come by dwelling on the past. It will come by finding fresh fuel. The fire must have fresh fuel every day if it is to burn with a steady glow.

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives further details. It shows how the offering was to be brought to the Lord, and above all how the priests were to deal with the parts that were not burned before Him.

In Leviticus 6:14 we come to the law of the meat offering, or oblation. The name means "gift offering," or "food offering." The sons of Aaron offered it "before the LORD in front of the altar." What an acceptable offering to bring to God — one that speaks of Christ as the food of His people. And how wonderful that we can feed on Him who is so acceptable to God: Christ in all the perfections of His Manhood, the One conceived by the Spirit, and the anointed Man for God's pleasure in this world.

But the law opens with "the sons of Aaron" offering it "before the LORD in front of His altar." One of them might be the offering priest, who left the memorial (v. 8), but they were all involved. It was priestly food, not man's in the ordinary sense... Only One could meet this absolute fitness to be offered before the LORD, in front of His altar. Everyone else needed a sin offering first... From all His activity here below, the smallest act no less than the greatest, the fire of God drew out nothing but perfect fragrance before God. Only He could value it rightly, so "all the frankincense" with a sample of all the rest was burnt to God.

Once the memorial had been burnt on the altar, with all the frankincense, the offerer left the rest with the serving priest. All the males of the priesthood were to eat it, as part of God's provision for those who served Him... But here again God guarded the truth about the person of Christ. The fine flour was not to be baked with leaven when it was prepared for the priests. Aaron and his sons were to eat it with unleavened bread in the holy place. This traces out the perfect purity of Christ, and how He was separate from the least mixture with evil, or any connection with evil in Himself.

Here, then, we have a beautiful picture of the Church. It feeds "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 on Christ if we are indulging in anything evil... Our position, our practice, our persons, our associations, must be holy, before we can feed on the meat offering.

The more we take as our own the place in His presence won by the work of Christ, the more we also enjoy Him as the food of our souls. This is no longer only as the One we need for life. It is now in the way of communion, and of appreciating in the Spirit all the perfection God found in Him when He was tested to the full in His path here below. So the Gospels give the spiritual mind a special delight and divine joy in what they show of Christ here below. Those who do not enter into their present nearness to God by His atoning work turn instead to the Epistles for comfort.

Since our Authorised Version appeared, the word "meat" has narrowed to mean flesh food instead of food in general. That has made a new name desirable for this offering. It was chiefly of fine flour, so "meal offering" would be a much more correct title.

The one great general truth is the shadow of Christ. It is not Christ giving Himself up in atoning death to Jehovah, without blemish and without reserve. It is Christ in the perfection of His life on earth, all pure and in the Holy Spirit's power, the fire only bringing out His matchless fragrance… Yet even the early chapter shows the marked difference from the burnt offering. From the meal offering the priest took out only a handful of the flour and oil, with all the frankincense. He burnt that on the altar as its memorial. The rest went to Aaron and his sons.

From all His activity here below, from the smallest act as much as the greatest, the fire of God drew out nothing but perfect fragrance before God. Only He could value it rightly. So "all the frankincense" was burnt to God, along with a sample of all the rest.

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

The frankincense always went wholly to God. It carries this thought: everything that Christ did in this world, He did first of all for the pleasure of God.

Of this offering a handful of the flour, with all the frankincense, was burnt on the altar for a "memorial." That word is used elsewhere only of the very similar showbread (Lev. 24) and of the jealousy offering (Num. 5). It is 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 savour. The rest became the portion of the priest — the worshipper.

The offering had first to be presented to God. The memorial with all the frankincense had to ascend to God. Only then could anything be 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 realise in some measure what that same blessed Man can be to me as food to sustain me in wilderness conditions.

God says, "I have given it to them." Given what? The meal offering. To whom? To His priests, to us — "for their portion of My offerings." It was God's offering, all offered to God, as the life of the Lord Jesus here. Yet we have our portion in it.

The law of the grain offering deals with what to do with the rest of it, after the memorial handful with all the frankincense has been burned on the altar... Now we know who and what this dry grain offering pictured — the man Christ Jesus in His life on earth, who bore divine judgment on the cross. So we understand why these orders were given: to keep the rest of it clear of leaven in any form. For in the Lord Jesus there was no trace of evil. So God guarded the truth about the holiness of the person of His Son. He went into these tiny details, never, as it were, taking His eye off the offering until it was all consumed... It was holy, most holy, and the priests were reminded of this. The priests fed on it, just as we who are priests are to find food for our souls in the life of Christ, and to have fellowship with God about Him.

But here the stress falls on what was left: "the rest of it Aaron and his sons shall eat" — not Aaron's sons only, but Aaron with them. It is the entire priestly house, Christ and His own, and we are His house, those who now share in a heavenly calling.

Once the memorial had been burned on the altar with all the frankincense, the man who brought the offering left the rest with the priest on duty. All the males of the priesthood would eat it, as part of God's provision for those who served Him. The man who brought it could not share in what was left; only God's priests were to feed on it.

God says, "I have given it to them." I think that is beautiful. Given what? The grain offering. To whom? To His priests, to us — "for their portion of My offerings." It was God's offering, all offered to God, as the life of the Lord Jesus here, but we have our portion in it. We, as God's priests, can feed on that humbled One. Our souls can feed on Him and delight in Him in His perfection as a man going through this world.

What is the holy place for us? Surely the presence of God. The priests' portion was to be eaten there without leaven — and no leaven means no allowed sin at all. In the presence of God, with the flesh judged and kept in the place of death, only there and in that way can we, as God's priests, feed on the spotless, holy Person of the Lord Jesus Christ in His life as a man here below.

If sin were unjudged in us, the Holy Spirit would be grieved and could not unfold to us the beauty of the Lord Jesus Christ in His humiliation on earth. And it is the Holy Spirit alone who can do that.

But it can only be eaten in a holy place — in the court of the tent of meeting, where the fine linen of practical righteousness shuts us in from the world. Whatever touches this becomes holy. Whatever we can connect with Christ finds that He is sanctification; whatever cannot be connected with Him is leaven, and must be shut out.

Our position, our practice, our persons, our associations must be holy before we can feed on the grain offering. Finally, it says, "all the males among the children of Aaron shall eat of it." In other words, to enjoy this holy portion you need real priestly energy, as God defines it. Aaron's "sons" picture energy in priestly action. His "daughters" picture weakness in it.

Today every believer is made a priest. But we need to be morally clean if we are to take in the excellencies of the life of our blessed Lord, a life so wholly offered to God.

Throughout Scripture, without a single exception, this ingredient stands for evil. In Leviticus 23 we find leaven allowed in the two loaves offered on the day of Pentecost. But from the meat offering, leaven was carefully shut out. The offering pictured "the Man Christ Jesus." So there was to be nothing sour in it, nothing that would puff up, nothing expressing evil. In Him there could be nothing of nature's sourness, nothing swollen, nothing inflated. All was pure, solid, and genuine. His word might at times cut to the quick, but it was never sour. … In the meat offering, sin is not in question. It is not the picture of a sin-bearer, but of a real, perfect, unblemished Man, conceived and anointed by the Holy Spirit, with an unleavened nature, living an unleavened life down here.

It is the action of an independent will that is the principle of sin. Christ, as a divine Person, had the title of an independent will. "The Son gives life to whom He will"; but He came to do His Father's will. His will was obedience, sinless therefore, and perfect. Leaven, in the Word, is the symbol of corruption — "the leaven of malice and wickedness." In the cake, therefore, which was to be offered as a sweet savour to God, there was no leaven.

After the memorial part was offered up to God, the rest went to Aaron and his sons. Jehovah Himself says: "I have given it to them", and moreover it was most holy. The worshippers had themselves provided the offering, but God says: "I have given it to them". For Aaron and his sons it was their privilege to feed upon that which represented Christ Himself, and Christ in His manhood.

But the stress here falls on what remained: "and the rest of it Aaron and his sons shall eat," not Aaron's sons only, but Aaron with them. It is the entire priestly house, Christ and His own, whose house are we, those who now share in a heavenly calling.

But we read, first of all, that the priests shall eat of the meat offering. Only a converted person can understand and feed upon the Lord Jesus in His pathway through this world. Second, "it shall be eaten with unleavened bread." No sin may be allowed in us. If we leave sin unjudged in us, we grieve the Holy Spirit, and He cannot unfold to us the beauty of the Lord Jesus Christ in His humiliation on earth. And it is the Holy Spirit alone who can do that. The priests of God feed upon a humbled Christ in the holy place.

It is used about the cake-offering, which represents His life as man here below. That is the very thing in which man has dared to suspect a taint. But the same expression occurs again in the sin-offering — the very occasion where man would have suspected, if anywhere, that the perfection of His glory was stained. He was as really man on the one hand, as on the other our sins were really borne by Him. Nothing seems to exceed the perfect care of the Holy Spirit for the glory of Christ.

In the burnt offering, the Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ with such jealousy. But the soul might lose sight of that holiness while considering the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. So again and again we are reminded of it by the words, "it is most holy." … Never was the Lord Jesus more fully seen to be "the Holy One of God" than when He was "made sin" upon the cursed tree. On the cross He stood identified with all that was vile and black, and this only showed more clearly that He was "most holy."

Scripture declares of Christ that not only was there no sin in Him, but that He knew none. The burnt offering witnessed to the perfection of His work in death. The meal offering shows us something no less perfect: what He Himself was here below, under every conceivable trial. What a privilege to feed on Him, given by God as our portion of His fire-offerings! Surely it is "most holy," like the sin offering and the trespass offering. In these there must be absolute freedom from any taint.

God says, "I have given it to them." Given what? The meat offering. To whom? To His priests, to us — "for their portion of My offerings." It was God's offering, all offered to God, as the life of the Lord Jesus here, but we have our portion in it. We, as God's priests, can feed upon that humbled One.

The one who brought the offering could not eat what was left; God's priests alone were to feed on it. Here again God carefully guarded the truth about the person of Christ. They were not to bake the priests' portion of fine flour with leaven. Aaron and his sons were to eat it with unleavened bread in the holy place. This traces out the perfect purity of Christ, and His separation from the least mixture with evil, or any connection in Himself with evil. And it plainly rebukes all undue familiarity and lack of reverence towards Him as a man.

Today God makes every believer a priest. But we need to be morally clean to digest the excellencies of the life of our blessed Lord, which were so wholly offered to God.

In almost all false doctrines, Satan's efforts against the truth aim, directly or indirectly, at the Person or the work of the blessed Lord. The target is not so much what He is now in glory, but what He was as man down here on earth. A humbled Christ seems to be the object of the enemy's attack in all false doctrine.

Finally, it is "Every male among the children of Aaron may eat of it." That is to say, enjoying this holy portion calls for real priestly energy, as God defines it. Aaron's "sons" set forth the idea of energy in priestly action. His "daughters," weakness in it. There were some things the sons could eat which the daughters could not. Our hearts should long for the highest measure of priestly energy. Then we may carry out the highest priestly functions and share in the highest order of priestly food.

This verse solemnly repeats a surpassing privilege. Jehovah secures it for ever to all the males among the children of Aaron: they share the meal offering and so feed on Christ in communion with Him. "Whatever — or whoever — touches them shall become holy." Not only was the meal offering "most holy," but everything that touched it passed out of common use and belonged to Jehovah.

Feeding on Christ produces moral separation from the world, from sin, and from the flesh. So what are we nourishing our affections on? Is it Christ, or the worthless, draining things of the world?

This fresh revelation came after the law of the grain offering and before the law of the sin offering. God gave it to Moses to instruct Aaron and his sons (6:19-23). It prescribed the daily grain offering that the high priest was to present for himself and his sons, from the day of his consecration to the end of his time in office. Since this concerns the priesthood alone, we understand why it comes in here. It was a special offering, though a daily one. It differed from any voluntary grain offering: God fixed the measure of the flour.

But the essential difference of the grain offering before us is that it was wholly burnt to Jehovah. The measure was a tenth of an ephah, or an omer — the same amount as the manna for an Israelite (Ex. 16). No part of it was kept as food for the priests. As a perpetual grain offering, half went up in the morning and half in the evening. But not a scrap was to be eaten. The whole must be burnt on the altar. The reason is plain. It was for the priests, and therefore it went up wholly to Jehovah.

The daily burnt offering for all Israel went up wholly to God, speaking to Him of the surrender of the Lord Jesus Christ to death to make atonement. This daily grain offering, by contrast, was offered for the priests. It did not picture atonement. It pictured the perfect service given to God on earth by the man Christ Jesus, who bore divine judgment — service tested by trials from men.

In the grain offering (Lev. 6:14-18), the priest's share in it is presented. Our Lord's life is for His people to enjoy. Yet the memorial of that life went up in sweet savour to God upon the cross. When the grain offering is the priest's alone (Lev. 6:19-23), it is all consumed. So our Lord offered up His whole life to God, keeping back nothing for Himself to enjoy apart from His Father.

In the grain offering the frankincense went up to God entirely. 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.

Verses 19-23 deal with the special grain offering of Aaron and his sons on the day of his anointing... The priest could not eat until he was anointed and fully qualified. But at his anointing the sweet savour was to go up to God.

Every day this offering presented to God, on behalf of the priests, what spoke of the Lord Jesus in His life of trial as He ministered here among men... Aaron and his sons were priests to God. But the One whose life of ministry on earth could be acceptable to Jehovah was not from Aaron's family. That grain offering, each morning and each evening, proclaimed it. The perfect Man had yet to come. Now He has come.

God gave Moses a fresh revelation to instruct Aaron and his sons (6:19-23). It came after the law of the grain offering and before the law of the sin offering. It prescribed the daily grain offering which the high priest was to present for himself and his sons, from the day of his consecration to the end of his career as high priest. Since this concerns the priesthood alone, we understand why it comes in this place. It was a special offering, yet a daily one. It differed from any voluntary grain offering, because God prescribed the measure of the flour.

The grain offering always follows the burnt offering as its supplement, whatever might be the reversed order in the sequence of Christ and His work. How differently they speak who dwell on the Incarnation to belittle the Atonement! God sets aside what we might think of as the order of nature, even in Christ Himself and His work.

It speaks of Christ, not in His atoning sufferings, but in the purity of sinless Manhood in all His life on earth.

Of the tenth part of the ephah, or the omer prescribed here — the same measure as the manna for an Israelite (Ex. 16) — no part was reserved for priestly food. As a perpetual grain offering, half of it went up in the morning and half in the evening. No one was to eat a morsel of it. The whole of it had to be burnt on the altar. The reason is plain. It was for the priests, and therefore it went wholly up to Jehovah. When an Israelite brought an offering for himself, the priests had the privilege of eating it — all the males, in a holy place. But their own offering on the day of anointing went entirely to Jehovah, like the burnt offering. It was not a question of fellowship with others. It was Christ wholly offered up as a sweet savour to Jehovah on their own behalf.

How precious to God was everything that spoke of Him! He had it brought daily in remembrance before Him. He never grew tired of the daily burnt offering, with the grain offering and drink offering that went with it, nor of the priest's special grain offering. And God allows us to have communion with Him about the One in whom He has unchanging delight.

It is striking that God assigned them an offering without blood. They should know well the power of the blood-shedding at their consecration. From then on it is the Person of the Lord Jesus that should remain their life-object. They are taken up with Him in His personal character, the One who became an entire sweet savour to God on the altar.

Oil was mixed with it, but oil was not poured on it… The oil poured on the fine flour pictured the Holy Spirit coming on Christ at His baptism. Since that pouring of the oil is left out here, this grain offering seems to picture the blessed life of our Lord before His public ministry began. The hidden years, as we call them, were given completely to God. The Holy Spirit has not given us a record of those years, so we cannot feed on them.

This comes after the law of the grain offering and before the law of the sin offering. God gave Moses a fresh revelation to instruct Aaron and his sons (6:19-23). It prescribes the daily grain offering the high priest was to present for himself and his sons, from the day of his consecration to the end of his time in office... It differed from them all on one essential point: he offered half of it in the morning, and half in the evening. Baked with oil on (not in) a frying pan, or flat plate, it was wholly burnt... It did not picture atonement. It pictured the perfect service on earth for God of the man Christ Jesus, tested though it was by trials from men.

The process of baking suggests the idea of suffering. But the grain offering is called "a pleasing aroma" — a term never used of the sin offering or trespass offering. So there is clearly no thought here of suffering for sin. There is no thought of suffering the wrath of God because of sin, and no thought of suffering at the hand of infinite Justice as the sinner's substitute.

The cakes baked in the oven were enclosed, so they were not open to the eyes of men. They were hidden, and I think they would represent the sufferings that no man knew about, but God alone knew. In verse five the offering is baked in a pan, and that is an open vessel. Here everyone could see the sufferings our Lord endured.

Half was to be offered in the morning, the other half at night, showing that the day was to begin and finish with thoughts of Christ. The normal offering was either mixed with oil or anointed with oil; this offering was to be saturated with oil, a more intensive thought. As J. N. Darby said, this speaks of the Son of God in power, who walked by the Spirit in divine and absolute holiness in the middle of a world of sin.

Parted in pieces means in every detail, words, works, everything.

Of the tenth part of the ephah, or the omer prescribed here, the same measure as the manna for an Israelite (Ex. 16), no part was kept back as food for the priests... but not a morsel was to be eaten: the whole must be burnt on the altar. The reason is plain. It was for the priests, and therefore it wholly went up to Jehovah... This was not a question of fellowship with others. It was Christ wholly offered up as a pleasing aroma to Jehovah on their behalf.

How all that spoke of Him was precious to God! He had it brought daily in remembrance before Him. He never grew tired of the daily burnt offering with its grain offering and drink offering, nor of the priest's special grain offering. And we are permitted to have communion with God about the One in whom He has unchanging delight.

After the law of the grain offering, and before the law of the sin offering, God gave Moses a fresh revelation to instruct Aaron and his sons (6:19-23). It prescribed the daily grain offering the high priest was to present for himself and his sons, from the day of his consecration to the end of his time in office. Since this concerns the priesthood alone, we understand why it comes in this place. It was a special offering, though a daily one. But it differed from every other grain offering on one essential point: half of it was offered in the morning, and half in the evening. Baked with oil on a flat plate, it was wholly burnt. Under the law no one could eat of their own offering unless it was an offering of thanksgiving... It did not picture atonement. It pictured the perfect service on earth for God of the man Christ Jesus, who bore divine judgment — service tested by trials from men.

But the essential difference of the grain offering before us is that it was wholly burnt to Jehovah. Of the tenth part of the ephah prescribed here — the same measure as the manna for an Israelite (Ex. 16) — the priests kept back no part to eat... The reason is plain. It was for the priests, and therefore it wholly went up to Jehovah. What an Israelite offered for himself, the priests had the privilege of eating — all the males, in a holy place. But their own offering on the day of anointing was all for Jehovah, like the burnt offering. It was no question of fellowship with others, but of Christ offered up whole to Jehovah, a pleasing aroma, on their own behalf.

When the grain offering is the priest's alone (Lev. 6:19-23), it is all consumed. So our Lord offered up His whole life to God, reserving nothing to be enjoyed by Himself apart from His Father.

To what did it testify? To the preciousness of thirty years of human life which, one may say, has no place in the inspired history... It stays completely hidden, and will stay hidden for us until we hear it perhaps in the speech of heaven — a grain offering to God alone... Half offered in the morning, half at night, it may show us His lasting perfectness all through, whether in sunshine or in shadow. Things test us equally, yet in such different ways; in Him they all bore equal witness to unchangeable goodness.

So this offering set before God each day, on behalf of the priests, what spoke of the Lord Jesus in His life of trial as He ministered here among men... Aaron and his sons were priests to God. But the One whose life of ministry on earth could be acceptable to Jehovah was not of Aaron's race. That grain offering each morning and each evening proclaimed it. The perfect Man had yet to come.

Is this the Blessed One with whom we begin the day?... And when the busy day is over, can we still tell God how much we value that wondrous Person, in all the freshness of unbroken communion, and in the same measure as we began the day? A day that begins and ends like this will be full of the fragrance of what belongs to the Father's delight alone, for this offering "shall be wholly burned. It shall not be eaten."

After the law of the grain offering, and before the law of the sin offering, God gave Moses a fresh revelation for the instruction of Aaron and his sons (6:19-23). It prescribed the daily grain offering that the high priest was to present for himself and his sons, from the day of his consecration to the end of his time in office. Since this concerns the priesthood alone, we can see why it is placed here. It was a special offering, though a daily one. It differed from all the other appointed grain offerings on one essential point: half of it was offered in the morning, and half in the evening.

But the essential difference of the grain offering before us is that it was wholly burnt to the LORD. The measure set here is a tenth of an ephah, the omer — the same measure as the manna for an Israelite (Ex. 16). None of it went to feed the priests... The reason is plain. It was for the priests, and therefore it wholly went up to the LORD. What an Israelite offered for himself, the priests could eat — all the males, in a holy place. But their own offering on the day of anointing was all for the LORD, like the burnt offering. It was no question of fellowship with others, but of Christ wholly offered up as a sweet savour to the LORD on their own behalf.

It was baked with oil on (not in) a frying pan, or flat plate, and then wholly burnt. Under the law no one could eat of their own offering unless it was thanksgiving in character. The daily burnt offering for all Israel went up wholly to God, and spoke to Him of the surrender of the Lord Jesus Christ to death to make atonement. This daily grain offering, though, was for the priests. It did not picture atonement. It pictured the perfect service on earth for God of the man Christ Jesus, who bore divine judgment — service tested by trials from men.

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.

When the grain offering is the priest's alone (Lev. 6:19-23), it is all consumed. So our Lord offered up His whole life to God, reserving nothing to be enjoyed by Himself apart from His Father.

Day by day, then, this offering set before God, on behalf of the priests, what spoke of the Lord Jesus in His life of trial as He ministered here among men... Aaron and his sons were priests to God. But the One whose life on earth in ministry could be acceptable to the LORD was not of Aaron's race, and that grain offering each morning and each evening proclaimed it. The perfect Man had yet to come. Now He has come. As priests, Christians are to find food for their souls in the life of the Lord, traced out for them in the Word. But we always have to remember the immeasurable moral distance between His walk in service on earth and our walk down here.

The first chapter of this priest's guide book gives details of what was due to the LORD, but chapter 6 gives you the law of the burnt offering. In the first chapter, the words were for the common people, for every worshipper in the assembly. But the law of the offering in chapter 6 was for Aaron and his sons, the priests. The priests were let into closer secrets, if I may put it that way, about the nature of this worship.

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives further details. It tells how to present the offering to the Lord, and above all how the priests were to handle the parts not burned before Him.

The sin offering must be slaughtered before the LORD in the place where the burnt offering was slaughtered. And indeed Christ alone was the full answer to both in His death on the cross... He was the Holy One of God. Yet holiness was never so tested and shown as when God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us. He was always completely set apart to God from every evil, doing nothing but the things that pleased His Father. On the cross He gave Himself up without reserve to God and His glory, to suffer the judgment of sin, whatever it cost; and it cost Him everything.

No offering shows Christ's personal holiness more strikingly than the sin offering... In the burnt offering, the Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ so jealously. But the soul might lose sight of that holiness while considering the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. So we are reminded of it again and again by the words, "it is most holy."... Never was the Lord Jesus more fully seen to be "the Holy One of God" than when He was "made sin" on the cursed tree. The vileness and blackness of what He stood identified with on the cross only showed more clearly that He was "most holy." Though He bore sin, He was sinless.

The priest who offered it for sin had to eat it, and he is a picture of Christ. This means His identification with sinners, when in our place He bore our sins in His own body on the tree. But the priests could also eat of it. No fellow priest could share the work of atonement, the sin-bearing, with Him. He alone could do this great work. Still, we eat of the sin offering if we identify ourselves in humbling and confession with the sins and failures of God's people. The holiness of the sin offering is especially stressed. It is called "most holy." The earthen vessel it was boiled in had to be broken, and the bronze pot had to be scoured and rinsed. This pictures the unique, most precious and holy character of the great work the sin-bearer accomplished on the cross.

"Every male among the priests shall eat of it." This was not limited to the offering priest. All the priestly males were to eat of it. Those who have access to God are called to identify themselves with a brother's sin; as Christ does above all, so they too are to follow, strong in the grace that is in Him, confessing another's sin as their own. For if He loves them, did He not both wash them from their sins in His blood and make them a kingdom, priests to His God and Father?

In the first chapter, the words spoken were for the common people, for every worshipper in the gathering. But the law of the offering in chapter 6 was for Aaron and his sons, the priests. The priests were let into closer secrets, if I may put it that way, about the nature of this worship.

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives further details about presenting the offering to the Lord. It shows especially how the priests were to handle the parts that were not burned before Him.

Both types point to one and the same great fulfilment. Yet each shows a very different side of His work. In the burnt offering, we see Christ meeting the divine affections. In the sin offering, we see Him meeting the depths of human need. That presents Him to us as the One who accomplishes the will of God; this, as the One who bears the sin of man. In the first we are taught how precious the sacrifice is; in the second, how hateful sin is. … The word "voluntary" does not occur in the sin offering. This type brings Christ before our thoughts not as the One who voluntarily accomplishes the will of God, but as the One who bears that terrible thing called "sin" and endures all its dreadful consequences. The worst of these, to Him, was the hiding of God's face.

The moment the sin is on the sacrifice, he is to "slay the sin offering," because "the soul who sins shall die." Death must come in. Where was the sin offering slain? In the place of the burnt offering. You cannot separate the two. In the very place where the blessed Lord took all our sins on Him, there also the sweet aroma of His sacrifice rose up before God in all its perfection.

In none of the offerings is Christ's personal holiness more strikingly presented than in the sin offering… The Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ so closely in the burnt offering. But we are reminded again and again by the words, "it is most holy," so that the soul should never lose sight of that holiness while thinking about the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. It is truly strengthening and refreshing to see the divine and essential holiness of the Person of Christ shining out while Calvary's deep and awful darkness was all around. … Though a sin-bearer, He was sinless.

There was nothing in the whole work of Jesus that so marked His entire and perfect separation to God, His positive holiness, as His bearing sin. He who knew no sin alone could be made sin. The act itself was the most complete separation to God that can be imagined. No thought of ours can fathom it — to bear it all, and for His glory. It was a total giving of Himself, at any cost, to God's glory; as indeed God could accept nothing else.

The burnt offering speaks of acceptance, the sin offering speaks judicially of the ending of sin in the sight of God for His own glory. God would have us see His thoughts on dealing with sin. He deals with it through His well beloved Son not only to relieve us, but to restore us once again into the wonderful sense of the burnt offering, "accepted in the Beloved."

Verse 25 repeats what has been said before about the sin offering… But verse 26 adds what had not been said before: the priest who offered it was to eat its flesh in the holy place. This applied to the sin of a ruler or one of the people. Where the priest took the blood of the sin offering into the sanctuary, he was to eat nothing.

"The priest who offers it for sin shall eat it." Singled out in this way, the offering points to none other than Christ. His eating the sin offering does not mean His work of suffering for sin. It means His identification with the one for whom the offering was presented. If holiness stood out in the victim and righteousness in the judgment carried out, what grace was in Christ, making the offerer's sin His own? So we know it in His advocacy with the Father "if anyone does sin" (1 John 2:1). His atoning death was not all.

The priest thereby identified himself with the sin of the offerer. "The priest had not committed the sin; on the contrary, he had made atonement for it… So Christ — giving us the fullest consolation — Himself spotless, and having made atonement, yet identified Himself with all our faults and sins… The one who drew near came with confession and humbling of himself, but the priest took up his guilt and judgment. They did not reach the judgment seat of God, and so did not affect the relation between God and the offender."

But verse 29 opens up a truth far larger than verse 26, though it does not match it for depth. "Every male among the priests may eat of it." This was not limited to the offering priest… Those who have access to God are called to identify themselves with a brother's sin. As Christ does supremely, so they too are to follow, strong in the grace that is in Him, confessing another's sin as their own… Indeed "it is most holy," and to be eaten only in a holy place.

But there is such a thing as making my brother's sin my own, and bearing it in spirit before God as though it were my own… It is a wonderfully blessed and holy exercise, and it can only be known in the immediate presence of God… When a brother has sinned, our tendency is to sit in judgment on him. We take the place of a severe critic. We look on his sin as something we have nothing whatever to do with. This is to fail sadly in our priestly functions. It is refusing to eat the sin offering… It is a most precious fruit of grace to be able to identify oneself with an erring brother so as to make his sin one's own.

The offerer laid his hand on the victim's head, and his guilt passed to it. His sin no longer rested on him, but on the victim. But when the offering was either eaten or burnt, the sin could no longer be found, for the victim was no more to be seen. The sin, therefore, was put away, and could not be charged to the one who committed it… When the priests ate the sin offering together, the sin transferred to it was equally put out of sight. So Christians are to act toward those who have sinned and been restored. They are to treat the offence as put out of sight, never to be brought up against the offender again.

No offering shows Christ's personal holiness more clearly than the sin offering... The Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ so jealously in the burnt offering. But the soul might somehow lose sight of that holiness while considering the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. So the words "it is most holy" remind us of it again and again. ... Never was the Lord Jesus more fully seen to be "the Holy One of God" than when He was "made sin" upon the cursed tree.

Nothing was so stamped with the character of holiness — of entire, real separation to God — as the sin offering... In the whole work of Jesus, nothing marked His complete and perfect separation to God, His positive holiness, like His bearing sin. Only He who knew no sin could be made sin, and that act itself was the most complete separation to God we can imagine.

Though God turned away His face from Christ made sin, the Saviour was no less "most holy." At the very moment when He offered Himself, He was the Object of perfect satisfaction to the Father's heart. Once the atonement was complete, the Father could show His good pleasure in Him. He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand.

Nothing could be holier than the sin offering. As with the meal offering earlier, everything brought into connection with it becomes holy. Imputed sin is not imparted sin... Death there was not as death elsewhere: Christ was no mere martyr.

Whatever touched the flesh of the animal would be holy, which speaks of any personal connection with the sacrifice of Christ being the means of sanctifying us from the guilt of sin, for the touching speaks of the touch of faith.

It was for God on behalf of sinners. For no other, no common, purpose could it be. On vessels of earth or copper, no trace of it must remain. To the offerer it brought forgiveness of the sin.

The sacrifice of Christ stands out unique. It is for God alone, and cannot be applied to any other use. It is a solemn thought that a man should use the sin offering of our Lord as a mere ointment for his conscience, so that he can go on living carelessly in the world again.

Everyone who touched the flesh of the sin offering was made holy. We are also told that any garment sprinkled with the blood of the sacrifice had to be washed with water (v. 27). Garments speak of habits. If our habits come into contact with the truth of the blood-shedding of Christ, the washing of water by the Word of God must cleanse these habits from defilement.

It is remarkable that nothing was so stamped with the character of holiness, of complete, real separation to God, as the sin offering… Here God laid down the most remarkable and exact rules to guard that holiness (Lev. 6:26-28). In the whole work of Jesus, nothing so marked His complete and perfect separation to God, His positive holiness, as His bearing of sin.

The power of this offering to make things holy shows itself clearly in verses 27 and 28. It was for God on behalf of sinners. It could serve no other, no common, purpose. On vessels of earth or copper no trace of it must remain.

Here God dealt with the vessels the flesh had been boiled in, not because they were defiled, but so that the holy food would never be mixed afterward with common food. "A thorough cleansing could prevent this misuse of what is holy in the case of copper vessels. It could not do so with earthen vessels, which soak up the fat, so that washing cannot remove it. So the earthen ones were to be broken in pieces — that is, completely destroyed." (Keil.) This small care over the picture should teach us how completely the work of the cross stands apart from everything else. The death there was not like any other death: Christ was no mere martyr. To mix this wonderful work for God and men with anything else whatever is only to degrade and desecrate it.

Shataph means primarily to "gush," "overflow," and to "rinse," by letting the water flow over, as over the hands. It is used this way in Lev. 15:11-12, in Lev. 6:28, and in Ezek. 16:9. All of these suggest the thorough removal or sweeping away of defilement, as by a flowing stream.

Sin is a most defiling thing in itself, but the sin offering was most holy, for it spoke of the pure and undefiled One, the Son of God, who died on the cross.

See how God guards the sin-bearing of His Son from any thought that evil was in Him! See how He bears witness that His holiness has been perfectly secured through that sacrifice! The sacrifice of Christ stands out unique. It is for God alone, and cannot be applied to any other use. It is a solemn thought that a man should use the sin offering of our Lord as a mere salve for his conscience, so that he can go back to careless living in the world.

Mark says that Mary broke the alabaster flask and poured the ointment on His head. The ointment was costly, but not too costly to be given entirely to her Lord. She broke the flask, just as the earthen vessel in which the sin offering had been boiled was broken so that it should not be put to common use (Lev. 6:28). That flask was broken, never to be refilled with ointment for any ordinary use.

Christ's personal holiness is shown more strikingly in the sin offering than in any other offering... The Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ so jealously in the burnt offering. But the soul might lose sight of that holiness while it considers the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. So the words "it is most holy" remind us of it again and again. It truly builds up and refreshes us to see the divine and essential holiness of the Person of Christ shining out while Calvary's deep and awful darkness lay over Him. The Lord Jesus was never more fully seen to be "the Holy One of God" than when He was "made sin" on the cursed tree. The vileness and blackness of what He stood identified with on the cross only showed more clearly that He was "most holy."

Verse 29 lets us into a truth far larger than verse 26, though not deeper. This was not limited to the offering priest. All the priestly males were to eat of it. Those who have access to God are called to identify themselves with a brother's sin. Christ does this above all, and they are to follow Him, strong in the grace that is in Him, confessing another's sin as their own. For if He loves them, did He not wash them from their sins in His blood and make them a kingdom, priests to His God and Father? Here too we find the repetition of "it is most holy."

The ceremonial act of eating the sin offering, or the trespass offering, expressed full identification. But to eat the sin offering — to make another's sin one's own — demanded a higher degree of priestly energy, such as the words "every male among the priests" express... How few of us have enough priestly energy to make another's sin or trespass our own! The blessed Lord Jesus did this perfectly. He made His people's sins His own, and bore the judgement of them on the cross.

The males of the priestly families were to eat parts of the sin offering. They ate it in the tabernacle and its court, not in their homes. But there was an exception to this. If the blood had been brought into the holy place for reconciliation, none of it was to be eaten. That happened when the priest himself sinned, or when the whole congregation was involved in sin. The body of the animal was to be burned outside the camp, as we saw in chapter 4. In ordinary cases the priests did eat. This may remind us today that the sin may be another person's, yet the saint in priestly condition may take it home to himself while helping the other. We find something of this spirit when we read Galatians 6:1-2.

There is, in a certain sense, a priestly way in which we have to bear the sins and sorrows of our brothers and sisters. Not, of course, as to atonement — that was Christ's alone, and the blood carried inside was Christ's alone. But there is still a true sense in which we have to bear them. And in this, I believe above everything else, we fail. Eleazar and Ithamar were not like Nadab and Abihu, who offered strange fire, and yet their failure too is recorded...

Inability to eat the sin offering — how common a case that is! It was for others that it was to be eaten: and to enter into the sin of others before God, while realizing the grace that has provided for it, a grace needed by ourselves as fully as by anyone, tests our spirituality. Only the males of Aaron's house could eat the sin offering, and that as a most holy thing in the holy place. May we know better how to do it!

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives further details. It shows how to present the offering to the Lord, and especially how the priests were to handle the parts not burned before Him.

The Trespass offering meets a different shade of evil from the more general and public offering for sin. The word for sin is chata, which means departure from what is right. But asham, translated trespass, means guilt. It was an act of treachery in the holy things of the Lord, though people supposed it happened by oversight and not on purpose. In the eyes of others it was not a moral wrong. Still, it was a secret betrayal against Him with whom they stood in holy relationship, and it brought guilt.

Here the law commands the killing of the sacrifice, the sprinkling of the blood, the presentation of the fat, and the burning on the altar — all left out at the first mention. Restitution is the prominent thing at the first mention of the trespass offering. It reveals the joy of God in what Christ has accomplished in His redemption work. But restitution must rest on atonement for a foundation. This is now therefore brought out in the law of the trespass offering.

In the burnt offering the Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ so jealously. But the soul might lose sight of that holiness while it thinks about the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. So the words "it is most holy" remind us of it again and again. It builds up and refreshes us to see the divine and essential holiness of the Person of Christ shining out in the middle of Calvary's deep and awful darkness. The law of the trespass offering makes the same point. Never was the Lord Jesus more fully seen to be "the Holy One of God" than when He was "made sin" upon the cursed tree.

All the more necessary, then, that the trespass offering should be most holy. Even in human matters it was "against the Lord", and it demanded proper satisfaction in both directions. We find that satisfaction perfectly and only in Jesus Christ and Him crucified. It produces results even now toward people as well as toward God. See Saul the persecutor become Paul the sufferer. See the proud, abusive man become a lowly servant of God and of men for Jesus' sake. Never did the holiness of God stand out so clearly, or receive such measureless proof. God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us — a curse for those under a curse — so that those who believe on Him should be cleared for ever.

The sin offering deals with sin in view of the divine nature. The trespass offering deals with sin in view of the divine government. The words "sin" and "trespass" convey this difference well. Restitution has a prominent place in the trespass offering. The sin offering alone shows that God must stay separate from sin. His nature requires that separation, and it is sin's most terrible punishment.

One well-known writer taught that the sin offering was for sin in the flesh, and the trespass offering for acts of evil. But this cannot stand. No such distinction was meant, nor could it be in Old Testament times: it was Christ who made that difference clear.

This offering too is called "most holy." Chapters 5:14–6:7 left out the killing of the sacrifice, the sprinkling of the blood, the presentation of the fat, and the burning on the altar. God now commands them all. Restitution is the prominent thing at the first mention of the trespass offering. But restitution must rest on atonement as its foundation. So the law of the trespass offering now brings this out.

In its law, the trespass offering is called "most holy." Yes, the offering was to meet a particular failure, whether against God or against man. It dealt not with moral wrong simply, but with failure in their relationship before Jehovah. That makes it all the more necessary that the trespass offering should be most holy. Even in human matters the wrong was "against Jehovah," and it demanded adequate satisfaction in both respects. That satisfaction is found perfectly and only in Jesus Christ and Him crucified, and it produces results even now toward man as well as toward God. See Saul the persecutor become Paul the sufferer. See the proud, abusive man become a lowly servant of God and of man for Jesus' sake.

The Holy Spirit did not need to guard the personal holiness of Christ so jealously in the burnt offering. But the soul might lose sight of that holiness while considering the place the Blessed One took in the sin offering. So again and again the words "it is most holy" remind us of it. … Never was the Lord Jesus more fully seen to be "the Holy One of God" than when He was "made sin" upon the cursed tree. On the cross He stood identified with what was vile and black. That only showed more clearly that He was "most holy."

"In the place where they kill the burnt offering." Connect this with Leviticus 6:10–11, where the ashes of everything burnt on the bronze altar went outside the camp "to a clean place." Connect it also with Leviticus 4:12, where they burnt the body of the sin offering bull at the same spot. Whatever details God appointed differently, these two offerings were killed on one spot, and in the end their ashes mingle outside the camp. They picture one Christ, and one and the same work of death and judgment-bearing, while both are "most holy."

About the trespass offering we have first the directions for dealing with the blood, next the directions about the parts to burn on the altar, and then the provision for disposing of the rest. Notice that in all these sacrifices the directions about the blood come first. The priest sprinkled it on the altar at once, presenting the life of the flesh to Jehovah in this way. No sacrifice whose life was taken could be rightly dealt with on the altar until the priest had duly presented its blood to God.

Like the burnt offering and the peace offering, the blood of the ram was only sprinkled on the altar round about. The animal appointed for the trespass offering was different from the animals marked out for sin offerings. It was treated at the altar in the same way as a sin offering brought for one person, yet its blood was dealt with differently. All this teaches that man was not allowed to suggest or invent what he thought suitable; God directed the sinner, and the priest on his behalf, as was right in His sight. For the question about a sacrifice must always be: What will God accept, and how will He have it treated?

Here, then, come the details of the killing and the sprinkling, or dashing, of the blood on the altar all around... "The law" dwells on what directly, minutely, and sacrificially concerned Jehovah: whether for sin or for trespass, the offering is "most holy." If Jesus was the Holy One of God, nowhere was it so proved as when He was forsaken by God on the cross. And here again, not in the original directions for the trespass offering, the law is careful to claim all the fat as an offering: the fat tail, the fat that covers the inwards, the two kidneys, and the fat on them. This speaks not of the life given up, but of the inward energy that perfectly pleased God. It yields only sweet savour when searched by His full judgment.

Next, all the fat, especially of the inwards, was taken and burnt on the altar of burnt offering to the Lord. Fat and blood were alike forbidden to be eaten. The blood was the life, and necessarily belonged to God in its very nature... but fat also was never to be eaten, only burnt, and so offered to God. The use of this symbol, fat, is familiar enough in the Word. "Their heart is fat as grease." "Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked." "They are enclosed in their own fat, with their mouth they speak proudly." It is the energy and force of the inward will, the inward parts of a man's heart.

The part that was offered up to God was the fat within — all the energy of a perfect will, which was not lacking, but willingly offered up to God. The kidneys get special attention: "the reins," our Lord's inward judgment and refusal of all evil. These could be laid on the altar as a token of His perfect sinlessness. But "the caul above the liver" was removed and consumed. That caul is possibly the diaphragm, which separates the lungs from the liver — the nobler vital organs, we might say, as distinct from the lower ones connected more with earth. Its removal seems to suggest that no such distinction could exist in the holy life of our Lord. With Him there was no separation between sacred and common. He was as much for God in the lowliest details of life as in His very breath and the beating of His holy heart of affection for Him.

In common with all the other offerings, the trespass offering was "most holy." It was to be killed in the same place as the burnt offering. The priest was to sprinkle its blood all around on the altar... These all speak of characteristics of Christ that are entirely for God's appreciation: all are offered in fire to Him.

The killing of the sacrifice, the sprinkling of the blood, the presentation of the fat, and the burning on the altar are now commanded. Chapters 5:14–6:7 left them out. Restitution is the prominent thing at the first mention of the trespass offering... But restitution must rest on atonement as its foundation. So this is now brought out in the law of the trespass offering.

Looking at the law of the trespass offering, we see features in it shared with other animal sacrifices. Like the burnt offering and the peace offering, the blood of the ram was only sprinkled around the altar. As with the sin offering, one priest, not several, carried out this service. As with the peace offering and the sin offering, the fat of the inner parts and the inner organs named were all burned on the bronze altar, an offering made by fire to the Lord... All this teaches that man was not allowed to suggest or invent what he thought suitable. God directed the sinner, and the priest on his behalf, as was right in His sight. For the question of a sacrifice must always be: what will God accept, and how will He have it treated?

The fat speaks of the inward energy of the Lord's devotion to the Father's will. The kidneys, which filter and purify the blood, symbolize the inner motives of the Lord Jesus in all His ways, always perfectly pure. These were offered on the altar to God, for they are for His own pleasure.

Special attention is called to the kidneys, "the reins" — our Lord's inward judgment and refusal of all evil. This could be laid on the altar as a token of His perfect sinlessness.

The diaphragm or midriff, which stretches above the liver all across the chest.

"The caul above the liver" is possibly the diaphragm, which separates the lungs from the liver. We might call these the nobler vital organs, as distinct from those connected more with earth. It was removed and burned, as though suggesting there could be no such distinction in the holy life of our Lord. With Him there was no separation between sacred and common. He was as much for God in the lowliest details of life as in His very breath and the beating of His holy heart of affection for Him.

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

Here again, and not in the original directions for the trespass offerings, care is taken to claim the offering of all the fat — the fat tail, the fat that covers the inner parts, the two kidneys and the fat on them. This is expressive not of the life given up, but of the inward energy that perfectly pleased God, and it yields only sweet savour when searched by His full judgment. The priest, we are told here, was to burn this on the altar, a fire offering to Jehovah. He was not to carry the animal out and burn it whole outside the camp.

The skin of the burnt offering was for the offering priest. He was allowed the outer parts of the sacrifice, whose inward parts were wholly for God. We may apply this to ourselves. Though we may be allowed to share in the sweet savour of the death of Christ, we only touch the outside. The inward excellence, as known to God, must always be beyond us.

Christ is He who restores. "I restored that which I took not away" (Psalm 69:4) — that is what prophecy says of Him. He is the offerer of this trespass offering. He is the One who has overpaid God (if I may say it that way) for all the wrong that sin has done Him. He is also the One who has more than restored to man — to as many as receive Him — all that sin had taken away.

Here the law of this offering calls it "most holy." True, the offering was there to meet a particular failure, against God or against man. It was not simply moral wrong. It was failure in their relationship before Jehovah. That makes it all the more necessary that the trespass offering should be most holy: even if the wrong was in human things, it was "against Jehovah," and it demanded adequate satisfaction in both directions. That satisfaction is found perfectly and only in Jesus Christ and Him crucified, and it produces results even now toward man as well as toward God. The holiness of God never stood out so clearly as when God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us. This was so that those who believe on Him would be cleared for ever.

Like the burnt offering and the peace offering, the blood of the ram was only sprinkled on the altar all around. As with the sin offering, one priest, not several, carried out this service. So the directions about each offering are precise, and in no two are they the same. The animal appointed for the trespass offering was different from those marked out for sin offerings. At the altar it was treated in the same way as the sin offering brought for an individual. Yet the blood was dealt with differently. All this teaches that man was not allowed to suggest or invent what he thought suitable. God directed the sinner, and the priest acting for him, as was right in His sight. For the question about a sacrifice must always be: What will God accept, and how will He have it treated?

The original directions for the trespass offering said nothing of this. Here the law claims every part of its fat: the fat tail, the fat that covers the inner parts, the two kidneys and the fat on them. The fat does not stand for the life given up. It stands for the inward energy that perfectly pleased God, and it yielded only a sweet savour when His full judgment searched it. The priest was to burn this on the altar as a fire offering to Jehovah. He did not carry the animal out and burn it whole outside the camp.

These all speak of characteristics of Christ that are entirely for God's appreciation: all are offered in fire to Him.

Notice — the bearing of our sins is never called a sweet savour, except in one particular case. He was made sin, and that was not a sweet savour, though He was never so holy and perfect as He was then.

Nothing was said on this point in Leviticus 5:14-19 or 6:1-7. So these added regulations are hardly open to any fair charge of useless repetition. Aaron's family alone could eat of these offerings for sin or for trespass. But every male was called to eat of them, and only in a holy place... For are not "holy brothers, who share in a heavenly calling," what Aaron's sons pointed forward to?

The eating means here what it means elsewhere. It is entering into what makes atonement for God, and so of necessity into the sin itself as it stands before Him... When Daniel confessed his sin and the sin of his people, he was surely eating the sin offering. We all greatly need to identify ourselves with the sins of God's people in just that way... A slight knowledge of God's grace may let someone treat sin lightly, and perhaps judge it bitterly too. Really eating the sin offering makes a person as serious as he is tender. Who can judge harshly when Christ has borne the judgment? Who can treat lightly what brought Him to the cross?

Eleazar and Ithamar burned the goat (Leviticus 10) instead of eating it in a holy place. In the same way we may fail to make a brother's sins our own, bearing the sin and shame before God as if we ourselves had been guilty. To condemn him is easy and natural. To identify ourselves with him, confessing and mourning the failure, is the clear privilege of the priestly family — at least of "every male." That means everyone strong in faith, whether of one sex or the other, for a distinction that belongs only to the body cannot exist in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:28).

Eating the sin or trespass offering took a larger measure of priestly energy than merely sharing in the heave and wave offerings of gift. Aaron's daughters could eat the gift offerings. Only his sons could eat the offerings for sin and trespass... How few of us have enough priestly energy to let us make another's sin or trespass our own! The blessed Lord Jesus did this perfectly.

This goes far beyond the kindest feeling. It comes from a deep sense of what is due to God, and it feels the offence as if we ourselves had committed it. This is to bear the iniquity of the assembly, valuing the things that are Christ's, not those of men who would soften and excuse. That is why it was to be eaten not merely in a clean place, like the peace offering, but in the holy place. Propitiation had its own unique moment. But priestly grace also has its due place and time in nearness to God.

True, the offering was to meet a particular failing, whether against God or against man. It dealt not simply with moral wrong, but with failure in their relationship before Jehovah. That makes it all the more necessary that the trespass offering should be most holy. Even in human matters the wrong was "against Jehovah," and it demanded full satisfaction in both directions. That satisfaction is found perfectly and only in Jesus Christ and Him crucified. God's holiness never stood out so clearly as when He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us. And this was so that those who believe on Him would be cleared for ever.

But the trespass offering, like the sin offering, belonged to the priest. When the priest eats the trespass offering he makes the trespass of the man who offers it his own. What amazing grace! And this is just what our great High Priest has done for us.

Leviticus 7:1-7 records the law of the trespass offering, which is the same as for the sin offering. As verse 7 says, "there is one law for them."

One writer, once well known to many and still more widely read, argued that the sin offering was for sin in the flesh, and the trespass offering for acts of evil. But this is completely untenable. No such distinction was meant, nor could it be in Old Testament times: it was Christ who made that difference clear. Moral evil in general was in view in the one case. In the other case it was wrongs done to Jehovah in holy things, or to a neighbour but still against Him by breaking trust — and repayment was due accordingly.

The sin offering deals with sin in view of the divine nature; the trespass offering, in view of the divine government. The words "sin" and "trespass" convey this difference well. Restitution has a prominent place in the trespass offering. The sin offering alone displays that necessary separation of God from sin, which is at once what His nature requires and sin's most awful punishment.

Its law calls the trespass offering "most holy." Granted, the offering was to meet a particular failure, whether against God or against man. It was not moral wrong on its own, but failure in their relationship before Jehovah. All the more necessary, then, that the trespass offering should be most holy. Even in human matters the wrong was "against Jehovah," and it demanded adequate satisfaction in both directions. It is found perfectly and only in Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

But the trespass offering, like the sin offering, was the priest's. When the priest eats the trespass offering he makes the trespass of the man who offers it his own. What indescribable grace! And this is exactly what our great High Priest has done for us.

The priest who offered the blood ate the victim. So the priest and the victim that represented the sin of the offerer were completely one. Since Christ is both, the eating by the priest shows how He did make it His own. Only, in Christ, what was pictured here happened first when He was the victim. The priesthood He exercises for us now in heaven comes afterwards.

The priest who made atonement with the sin or trespass offering received the offering for his service. This suggests the gain to our souls in taking up this priestly exercise.

The eating has the same meaning here as elsewhere. It is entering into what makes atonement before God, and so, of necessity, into the sin itself as He sees it… Daniel confessing his sin and the sin of his people was surely eating the sin offering. Just such identification of ourselves with the sins of God's people is a great need for all of us… Really eating the sin offering makes a person as serious as he is tender. Who can judge harshly when Christ has borne the judgment?

So in all of these offerings the priest (a picture of Christ) had some part — the burnt offering, meal offering, sin offering and trespass offering. The peace offering is not mentioned here because it was above all the shared offering. But it was necessary to insist that the priest had some part in all the offerings. In the burnt offering he had no part to eat — only the skin.

It is well known that commentators say very little here. If they speak, they bring in the Lord God clothing Adam and Eve with the coats of skins He made for them (Gen. 3:21)… Such applications cannot stand. The question here is not about providing for the offerer's nakedness or need. It is about the offering priest, who as usual represents Christ in His official capacity… It is suggested that the Priest has for Himself the memorial and the display of what set forth His giving Himself for us to God without reserve, beyond all other offerings. And the skin of the burnt offering seems reserved for the priest only in the case of "any man's burnt offering," that is, in ordinary cases. But there is no hint of the priest clothing himself with it: he certainly was not naked.

The skin of the burnt offering seems to speak of the outward display of the life of our Lord as it appeared in all its perfection to God. The priest pictures the offerer now brought near to God. He grasps this perfection from the outside. God alone knows its inward depths perfectly. How sweet to think we stand, as we might say, covered with a perfection whose depths God realizes perfectly.

It is the skin of the burnt offering, not the sin offering. It is not true that Christ's death only puts away our sins. It provides (though not alone, as we may see later) the "best robe" for the Father's house… The place He takes as man He takes for men. This gives us the measure of our acceptance in the Beloved, by which our nakedness is indeed covered, and its shame removed.

And what did the priest get? The skin of the burnt offering — which represents what Christ is to me — my covering… I am not to mix one thread of my own righteousness into that.

In verses 8-10 we have an added detail. It is first about the skin of the burnt offering, which went to the offering priest. He could have the outside of the sacrifice; the inward parts were wholly for God. We may apply this by reminding ourselves that though we may be allowed to share in the sweet savour of the death of Christ, we only touch the outside. The inward excellence, as known to God, must always be beyond us.

The burnt offering was wholly for Jehovah; the offering priest kept only the skin (Lev. 7:8). His shoes, clothing and household goods would come from the beauty of the offering that was "a sweet savour" to Jehovah. And should we not be marked with the features of Him whose sacrifice was so pleasing to God — in all our steps, in all our habits, and in everything to do with our homes?

The process of baking suggests the idea of suffering. But the meat offering is called "a sweet savour," and that term is never used of the sin offering or the trespass offering. So it is clear that there is no thought of suffering for sin. 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 meal offering pictured Christ in His life, not in His blood-shedding or death. Yet the fire of God's supreme judgment tested it no less. That fire consumed it and drew out nothing but a savour of rest.

The oven pictures the temptations that came from Satan's side — known only to the Lord Himself. The pan tells of the more open testings and trials He passed through. He endured the hostility of sinners and all the opposition and hatred heaped on Him. The frying pan or cauldron speaks of the combined trials and sorrows of an outward and inward nature. But all — whether the oven, the pan or the cauldron — brought out His perfection.

When the cooked meat offering had been dealt with as it should be, the rest of it went to the priest who offered it (Lev. 7:9). We can understand the reason for that rule. This class of offering pictured the Lord. He went through trials on earth before His death on the cross, and no one but Himself could know what those trials were. So the rest of such an offering went to the serving priest, the picture of Christ, and not to all the males of the priesthood.

Christ was put to the proof in every way here below, and He answers to the picture — not just kept but eaten. There were trials of Christ which He only could enter into and appreciate. Even of the great temptation in the wilderness, none of the details is revealed to us. How well He knows them! But what, to take another example, did the sleeping apostles know of what happened in the garden of Gethsemane?

"Every grain offering, mixed with oil or dry, shall be shared equally among all the sons of Aaron." Christ and His own together enjoy all His life here below, offered up to Jehovah.

In the appointed grain offerings the Lord Jesus was pictured simply as a man, with no reference to His path of trial on earth. So the offering presented on those occasions was dry, not cooked.

There is always great personal gain in having to do with the things of God. How the soul is enriched when it brings God, for His pleasure, what has the flavour of Christ about it! The one so engaged feeds with unspeakable delight on that blessed One as the food of his soul. He is nourished within as he finds in Him the one object that fills his heart.

But the grain offering pictured Christ in His life, not in the shedding of His blood or His death. It was tested just as fully by God's supreme judgment in the fire — the fire that consumed it and drew out nothing but a fragrance of rest.

It is perfect human nature without sin, mixed with oil — that is, born of the Spirit in its very origin. Oil was poured on it; that is, Christ as man was anointed with the Holy Spirit, and frankincense was put on it. The fragrance of grace rises up to God. The rest was for Aaron's sons. First, Jesus, as a man, is offered to God in His perfectness, and then we feed on Him. The fragrance of His perfectness rises while we feed. But this is only for priests, the true saints of God.

Now, why this difference? The priests, perhaps, could not have explained it. But the cooked grain offering stands for the Lord in His life of trial for man. Who but He knew what that life was? So the priest who served at the altar was to have it for himself, along with the skin of the burnt offering. In all this we see that God, while He provided for the offerer, was always thinking of Him who is the offering. The type shows that although the Lord would be perfectly a man, the circumstances He passed through in life and in death would belong to Him alone. What interest God took in His life on earth! How it should interest us, who have Him as our life and our example!

The dry offering, or the one mixed with oil, was for all the males of the family. The baked ones belonged entirely to the priest who offered it. One was an offering standing alone in Christ; the other was communion shared by the whole Church.

So in verse 10 we learn that "every grain offering, mixed with oil or dry, shall be shared equally among all the sons of Aaron." In this way Christ and His own enjoy together the offering of all His life here below, presented to Jehovah.

This marks a difference between priests who were passive in any given matter and the priest who was active. All believers are priests, but not all priests are in action.

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

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives more detail about how to present the offering to the Lord. It says especially how the priests were to deal with the parts that were not burned before Him.

Although the peace offering itself stands third in order, its "law" comes to us last of all. That carries meaning. No offering unfolds the communion of the worshipper as fully as the peace offering does. In the burnt offering, it is Christ offering Himself to God. In the grain offering, we have Christ's perfect humanity. In the sin offering, we learn that sin, at its root, is fully met. In the trespass offering, there is a full answer to the actual sin in the life. But none of these unfolds the communion of the worshipper. That belongs to the peace offering, and I believe that is why its law stands where it does. It comes at the close of all. It teaches us that when the soul feeds upon Christ, it must be a full Christ, seen in every aspect of His life, His character, His Person, His work, His offices.

In this chapter we learn only what happened to the blood and the fat, which was God's portion. The law of the peace offering, in Leviticus 7:11-34, tells us more. Not only the priest had his share; the offerer himself had his portion. So this offering has a mark of its own — communion with God over the excellence of the sacrifice of Christ.

So Jehovah had His portion. So did Christ, signified by the priest who presented the blood and the fat — He and His house ("we are His house"). So did the believers, one with another. All entered into and enjoyed the fellowship of Christ's work. But uncleanness and the feast on that sacrifice can never go together. If man's communion is prominent, greater care guards it, so that he does not forget what is due to God and His holiness.

If offered as a thanksgiving, it was to be offered on the same day, and no part kept. If it was a vow or voluntary offering, the rest might be eaten the next day. We find the same two measures in worship now. Both are real, but they do not hold the same power. Some souls are happy in the sense of what the Lord has done for them, and they break out in grateful thanks. That may be elementary, but it is real worship of God. Yet it lacks the power that sustains. In the vow we see more. There it is not simply what has been done for us, but the heart delights in what Christ is Himself before God. This abides.

Yet in the peace offering for thanksgiving, leaven was not only allowed but required. Divine wisdom was providing for man and his fellowship. This was believing man, set apart for God. Still it took account of his nature. There was that in him which was not in Christ. In what represented Him leaven was not and could not be. But what represented the saints and their fellowship had to show the corruption of nature. Otherwise the picture would not be true.

In the peace offering, the fat was burnt on the altar as a sacrifice to God. If anyone ate the flesh of the victim on a day too far from that one, it was not communion but sin. The worshipper showed his joy by eating the sacrifice. That joy had to stay in immediate connection with the offering made to God. Otherwise it was profane.

The term "peace offering" conveys a wrong thought about the sacrifice spoken of in the Scriptures we have just read. Many people take it for granted that this offering pictures Christ making our peace with God. But that is not a correct thought. The peace offering is rather an offering of thanksgiving or praise. The peace offering pictures our communion, as saints of God, on the ground of the value of the work and precious blood of Christ before God — our communion with God Himself, our communion with the Lord Jesus, and our communion with one another as priests of God... That is why we have that expression, "If he offer it for a thanksgiving." Praise and worship necessarily flow from communion.

...the name would be better understood if translated requitals, or recompenses, which is what the Hebrew word Shelamim means. As the reader may see in Leviticus 7:12, 16, people brought it on private occasions, either for a vow or for a sacrifice of thanksgiving. It really has nothing to do with the idea of peace.

In this chapter, the peace offering for a thanksgiving is the only offering that carried a meal offering along with it. The impression is this. We come to God with appreciation and thankfulness for all that is being done for us. In doing so we must keep in mind not only the death of Christ, but also that perfect life leading up to it.

The offering "for a thanksgiving" had to come with a meal offering. The "unleavened cakes mingled with oil" picture the perfect man Christ Jesus, conceived by the Holy Spirit. The "unleavened wafers anointed with oil" remind us of that blessed One who was anointed with the Holy Spirit. The cakes mingled with oil and fine flour fried set Him before us in His sufferings. Notice so far the complete absence of leaven, because it may express the perfect purity of the humanity of Christ.

In the New Translation we find another feature introduced; the word "fried" (v. 12) is translated "saturated" with oil. Every movement our Lord made when in this world, and every word He spoke, were all in the power of the Holy Spirit. It is this blessed Person, our Lord Jesus Christ, who has brought us into fellowship with God as the result of His death.

No one can know communion with God apart from a real recognition of the death of Christ for us, because the offerer laid his hand on the victim's head before he killed it. But if the Lord has died, He first lived. So the unleavened cakes pictured His life as well as His death. Yet the order is suggestive. His death comes first here, then His life; the cakes were offered with the sacrifice of thanksgiving — literally, on it.

Divine wisdom was providing for man and his fellowship. It was man believing and holy. Still it took account of his nature. There was that in him which was not in Christ. In what represented Him there was no leaven, and there could be none. But whatever represented the saints and their fellowship had to show the corruption of nature, or the picture would not ring true... Christ has, and loves to have, His part in our thanksgiving — He without whom we could have none.

This is all the more striking. Every Israelite began the holy year with the Passover, where God banned leaven in every form. The ban covered the meal offering too, in pointed terms, as the chapter given to it makes plain. Yet in the peace offering for thanksgiving, as in the two loaves of the Feast of Weeks, leaven was not only allowed but prescribed. And the reason in each case was the same. Divine wisdom was providing for man and his fellowship. This was man as a believer, and holy. Still it took account of his nature. There was that in him which was not in Christ.

Notice that up to this point there is no leaven at all. That was to express the perfect purity of the humanity of Christ. Then, besides these things, "he shall bring his offering with loaves of leavened bread." And why do we now have leaven? Surely not to express what Christ was, but what we are. Even in our thanksgivings to God our Father, we still have that in us — the flesh — in which nothing good dwells.

God permitted leaven here — and in Scripture leaven is always a symbol of evil — but it had to stay under careful control. There is no leaven in verse 12, which speaks of Christ Himself. No suggestion of evil can ever attach to Him. But leaven does appear in verse 13, which brings us, the offerers, into the picture. Even there, it had to stay under control. Nothing suggests the leaven is active. It has been in the oven and baked — fire has judged it in the presence of God.

In addition, the offerer was to bring leavened bread. The whole formed one offering, though its foundation was the animal sacrifice. On that lay, as it were, the unleavened cakes and wafers, and on them the leavened bread. Of all this, only the appointed part of the animal burned on the altar, and the serving priest received a heave offering of the cakes and bread.

One portion out of the whole, or out of each offering, was to go to Jehovah as a heave offering, and it fell to the priest who sprinkled the blood, as his portion. Christ has, and loves to have, His part in our thanksgiving — He without Whom we could have none.

But if it is a question of OUR offering a thanksgiving sacrifice, the leaven simply admits this: in OUR offering there may be ignorance, self-satisfaction, pride, a lack of proper reverence, even rivalry. It is painful to hear faulty or mistaken things said in thanksgiving. It is painful to see a brother stand for a worship hymn with his hand in his pocket, or sit in a careless, lounging way.

The rules for the peace offering pictured the communion of God with His people. Under them the offerer could bring both unleavened cakes and leavened bread to Jehovah. The first set out Christ in His perfect, spotless purity. The second set out the worshipper. He had an evil nature, and in the sacrifice and death of Christ that nature had passed under the fire of God's judgment. God accepted both.

The heave-offering included the right shoulder of the peace-offering (except in the case of the Nazirite). It also included one out of the whole offering that went with the animal offered as a peace-offering (Lev. 7:11-14); the first of the dough (Num. 15:20), and the tithes (Num. 18:24)… These offerings differ from one another, yet they have one feature in common. They are all portions taken out of a larger whole, whether of fruits, of animals, of money, or of land, and as such are called heave-offerings.

In the peace offering for thanksgiving, leaven was not only allowed but commanded. The same was true of the two loaves of the Feast of Weeks… Divine wisdom was providing for man and his fellowship. It was man believing and holy. Still it took account of his nature. There was that in him which was not in Christ. In what represented Him leaven was not, nor could be. But what represented the saints and their fellowship had to show the corruption of nature. Without that, the picture would not be true.

The first set out Christ in His perfect spotless purity. The second set out the worshipper, who had an evil nature. In the sacrifice and death of Christ, that nature had passed under the fire of God's judgment. God accepted both.

"Leaven" was permitted, because there was sin in the worshipper's nature. "Uncleanness" was forbidden, because there should be no sin on the worshipper's conscience. If sin is in question, communion must be out of the question. God has met and provided for the sin which He knows to be in us, by the blood of atonement. In other words, the "blood" of the sacrifice fully met the "leaven" in the worshipper's nature. The priest who eats the leavened bread must be the one who sprinkles the blood. God has put our sin out of His sight for ever. Though it is in us, it is not the object on which His eye rests. He sees only the blood. And therefore He can go on with us, and allow us the freest fellowship with Him. But if we let the "sin" that is in us grow into "sins," there must be confession, forgiveness, and cleansing. Only then can we eat of the flesh of the peace offering again.

Christ has, and loves to have, His part in our thanksgiving — He without whom we could have none.

The offering priest is a type of the Lord Jesus, who offered Himself without spot to God. He must have His part in all this blessed communion and joy and worship, because it has all come about through Him.

God finds a savour of rest in the part offered to Him. The priest who sprinkled the blood, a picture of the Priest in heaven, had his part. Aaron and his sons, a shadow of the Church, had their part. The offerer and his friends also fed on the same offering… What nearness to the Father, what joy, what thanksgiving, what worship must be bound up with this sharing together in that one Object which has so perfectly pleased and satisfied God!

The blood is sprinkled, and the fat burned as a sweet aroma; the wave-breast was for Aaron and his sons, the heave-shoulder for the priest who offered it; and the rest for the worshipper to feed on, as an occasion of joy and thanksgiving before Jehovah... Here Christ is shown not only as the perfect burnt offering, given up entirely to God in death for His glory, but also as an offering we feed on. He is not only God's delight; He is also what we can share in with Him. He is the subject matter of communion... The communion is between all the saints: the worshipper, the priest, and God.

That is to say, the worshipper's communion must never be cut off from the sacrifice it rests on. Worship and communion stay fresh and acceptable as long as a person has spiritual energy to keep that connection alive — and no longer. We must keep close to the sacrifice: in the way we think, in what our hearts love, and in what our souls experience.

But if the sacrifice of this offering was a vow or a voluntary offering, the flesh might be eaten not only on the day it was presented, but the rest of it on the next day as well... Thanksgiving is simple, and God looks for it from the simplest believer. But it does not have the sustaining power of that devoted heart which a deeper knowledge of Christ and His sacrifice creates in some who know God's grace better.

The worshipper must eat his portion in connection with the burnt offering and the priests' portion. If he eats it apart from these, it becomes an abomination, and the soul that eats it must bear his iniquity... So we shall find again and again that joy in the Lord easily sinks into what is merely natural. For example, Christians come with glad hearts to seek the Lord in communion, and the Spirit is present. They forget all their grief... But if they are not very watchful, their joy degenerates. It outlasts what is spiritual, and becomes joy in the flesh. The real test and power of this is its connection with the sacrifice offered.

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. In other words, God does not accept as worshippers people who have never been washed in the precious blood of Christ. There is nothing God is so jealous about as the way people worship Him. Yet that is usually the last thing Christians think about.

The peace offering of a thanksgiving is singled out also... to insist that the offerer had to bring it of his own free will, eat it the same day he offered it, and leave none of it overnight. This is repeated from 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.

It is an offering of repayment, or recompense, so a man might bring it to express thanksgiving, or as a vow, or as a voluntary offering. If the offerer brought it for thanksgiving, he and those with him could eat it only on the day he offered it. If he brought it as a vow or a voluntary offering, he could feed on it for two days, but never on the third... A vow or a freewill offering spoke of something surrendered to God, whether for a time or forever. Thanksgiving spoke only of gratitude for something already received.

Then we learn that a vow or voluntary offering has greater power than a simple return of thanks for blessings received, however good and right that thanks is. The vow stands for devotedness of heart in the offerer... But if the offering had devotedness or spontaneity, there was a sustaining power that lasted.

When the Lord's own hand sends someone a marked favour, the soul rises at once in thanksgiving. The worship then comes from that favour or mercy, whatever it happens to be, and stays tied to it, and there it ends. But when the Holy Spirit leads the heart out in some voluntary or deliberate expression of praise, that praise lasts longer.

The Lord Jesus has plainly forbidden us to make vows today (Matt. 5:33-37), for the law of God has proved that man in the flesh cannot be trusted, and we cannot promise what we will do in the future. Yet the vow would no doubt speak of the purpose of heart to devote oneself to the Lord in obedient faith. This is right, but not an actual vow.

A "vow" has to do with some act of devotion. It means a definite committal to God to carry out some work for His glory and for the blessing of His people... If someone sees a need and takes it up in communion with God, asking grace to be devoted to the service involved, you would see the features of a "vow" peace offering. It is not required, but it is a privilege open to anyone who really wants to commit himself to God, so that God can use him.

But no peace offering could be eaten for more than two days. The reason: if the offerer and the friends he invited kept living on it day after day, it would look like a person killing an animal for his own feast, instead of bringing an offering to the LORD.

The offering had to be eaten the same day, or at the latest on the second day; no one could keep it longer. This shows that the communion must be spiritual. We can only have it in communion with the sacrifice of Christ, not in nature... For instance, if Christians in gladness of heart come to seek the Lord in communion, the Spirit is present; they forget all grief... but if they are not very watchful, their joy degenerates. It lasts beyond what is spiritual, and becomes joy in the flesh. The real test and power of this is its connection with the sacrifice offered.

In chapter 7 we find that the worshipper ate the rest of the peace offering, except the breast and the shoulder, which belonged to the priests... The blood is sprinkled, and the fat burned as a pleasing aroma. The breast was for Aaron and his sons, the shoulder for the priest who offered it, and the rest was for the worshipper to feed on, as an occasion of joy and thanksgiving before Jehovah... Christ is shown here not only as the perfect burnt offering, wholly given up to God in death for His glory, but also as an offering we feed on. He is not only God's delight; He is also what we can share with God. He is the subject matter of communion... The communion is between all saints, the worshipper, the priest, and God.

Then we learn the greater power of a vow or voluntary offering, which stands for devotion of heart in the one who offers, over a simple return of thanks for blessings received, however good and right that is. For the thanksgiving, the flesh had to be eaten the same day as the sacrifice... Where there was devotion or spontaneity, there was a power that lasted. The flesh was to be eaten that day, and what was left could also be eaten the next day... God would not allow the worshipper to be cut off from the sacrifice beyond the second day. Fellowship in joy and peace is encouraged, especially where Christ draws and fills the heart in the power of His sacrifice; but the feast must not be carried too far from its source.

This shows how carefully God guarded communion. He kept it to Himself and to those who could have communion with Him. So no one was to use any leftover part, or put it to ordinary use; it had to be burned. We see the same principle elsewhere... God gave the same strict instruction about the Passover lamb: anything left of it until the morning had to be burned (Ex. 12:10).

No one could feed on a peace offering for more than two days. If the man who brought it, and the friends he invited, went on living off it day after day, it would look like a person killing an animal for his own feast, instead of bringing an offering to the LORD.

The third day is also stamped with the divine mark of resurrection by the prophet Hosea: "After two days He will revive us; on the third day He will raise us up, that we may live before Him." And of the peace offering we read, "what remains of the flesh of the sacrifice on the third day shall be burned up with fire." That is, on the third day it belongs wholly to God.

Communion cannot be stretched beyond the measure of spiritual power. Any effort to keep up a show of communion by our own strength is "an abomination" in the sight of God.

The communion of the worshipper must never be separated from the sacrifice on which that communion is founded... We may begin some act or expression of worship with our hearts taken up with Christ. Before we reach the end, we may become taken up with what we are doing or saying, or with the people listening to us... If the Holy Spirit produces "five words" of worship or thanksgiving, let us say the five and stop.

Nothing is of any value, in the judgement of God, which is not immediately connected with Christ. There may be a great deal of what looks like worship, which is, after all, the mere excitement and outflow of natural feeling. There may be much apparent devotion which is merely fleshly pietism.

With a voluntary offering the communion lasts longer; it might be eaten for two days. But no peace offering could be fed on for more than two days. If the offerer and the friends he invited kept living on it day after day, it would look like a person killing an animal for his own feast, rather than bringing an offering to the LORD. Besides, we have no doubt that the third day in Scripture often refers to resurrection.

Why was this? Because keeping it broke the link between the eating and the sacrifice on the altar. So in Leviticus 3:5: "Aaron's sons shall burn it on the altar on top of the burnt offering" — that is to say, the burnt offering is the foundation of the peace offering. This eating of the sacrifice, then, was not like ordinary eating. As they ate, they were linked with all the pleasing aroma of the sacrifice before God, and with all the value He set on that sacrifice.

We may begin some act or expression of worship with our hearts fixed on Christ. Before we reach the end, we may become taken up with what we are doing or saying, or with the people listening to us. In this way we may fall into what could be called "iniquity in our holy things." We may begin our worship in the Spirit and end in the flesh. If the Holy Spirit gives us "five words" of worship or thanksgiving, let us say the five and stop. If we go further, we are eating the flesh of our sacrifice beyond the time — and far from being "accepted," it is really "an abomination."

With a vow, the meat might be eaten the second day after the burning of the fat — the LORD's food of the offering. With a thanksgiving offering, it was to be eaten the same day. This tied the purity of the worshippers' service to the offering of the fat to God. If the peace offering was eaten apart from this offering of the fat, it was mere fleshly festivity, or a form of worship with no real communion with the delight and good pleasure of God. It was worse than unacceptable — it was really iniquity.

Nothing is of any value, in God's judgement, that is not directly connected with Christ. There may be a great deal of what looks like worship, which is, after all, only the excitement and outflow of natural feeling.

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. In other words, people who have never been washed in the precious blood of Christ are not accepted as worshippers before God. God is more jealous about the way He is worshipped than about anything else, and that is usually the last thing Christians think about. When Aaron's sons Nadab and Abihu offered unauthorised fire before the LORD, they were struck dead, because they did not come to Him in the way God had commanded. And what did Moses say? "Among those who are near me I will be sanctified" (Leviticus 10:3).

See that your worship stands inseparably connected with the work of the cross. See that Christ is the ground, Christ the material, and the Holy Spirit the power of your worship. Take care that your outward act of worship does not stretch beyond the inward power.

The burnt offering was for God alone. The sin offering was not for every Israelite to eat either. The peace offering was different: every Israelite could eat it, as long as he was clean. Of the peace offering it says: "All who are clean may eat flesh" (Lev. 7:19). This supports the thought that the peace offering speaks of fellowship.

The people ate of one offering only, and that was the peace offering. Leviticus 7:19 says of this peace offering: "All who are clean may eat flesh." The one who ate of the peace offering was in communion with the altar.

The priest and the man who brought the peace offering both had the privilege of eating it. Yet if that meat touched anything unclean, no one was to eat it (v. 19). The link with uncleanness was enough to defile it. If the meat was clean, those who were clean could eat it.

So holiness must moderate, guard and govern the joy of fellowship. "Flesh that touches any unclean thing shall not be eaten. It shall be burned up with fire." Being too casual with God is an offence when we express praise and blessing. What is it to sing to God words we know are neither true nor fitting? We are under a solemn duty to see it gone!

Every Israelite could be invited to share the feast. But one condition would not bend: he must be clean… Grace leaves us free to enjoy fellowship with the LORD, with Christ the Priest, with all His priests and with the simplest of His people. Yet we are just as bound to refuse everything irreverent and everything sinful. If we bring into that fellowship what offends God's nature and will, we do it at our own risk before Him. He will not fail to vindicate Himself and His word.

Verse 20 deals with a person's own uncleanness… Anyone who is evil in life or wrong in teaching cannot take part in the breaking of bread. Verse 21, though, speaks of "touching". That points to defilement through association. An Israelite might be clean in himself. But if he had contact with anything unclean, he could not eat the peace offering.

But if someone ate this offering while he was unclean, he was to be "cut off from his people" (v. 20). Death may seem a harsh sentence for this. Yet the Lord means to press on us how serious it is to pretend we have fellowship with Him while we go on in sinful ways.

See what care God took to guard His people from trying what His nature must reject… Under law, death was the penalty if an unclean person ate the peace offering, because that offering belonged to the Lord. Under grace, we are told to confess our sins, and communion will be restored (1 John 1:9).

It is the shared food of those gathered as worshippers, to feast on in Jehovah's presence. But if anyone unclean ate this sacrifice, he was to be cut off from the people (Lev. 7:20). Only as clean people could they meet with Jehovah in this way. Only those already cleansed and accepted can share this delight in the Lord Jesus. He is given as a shared object of communion and enjoyment between God and us, and with one another. In this act, our worship is not merely coming to ask about our acceptance. We already have access, so we come to rejoice with God over the sacrifice, knowing its results. It was a thanksgiving offering, and praise was in it. It all rests on the certainty that full satisfaction has already been made.

Every Israelite could be invited to share the feast, but one condition was fixed: he must be clean… By grace we are free to enjoy fellowship with Jehovah, with Christ the Priest, with all His priests, and with the very simplest of His people. If that is so, we are bound to refuse all irreverence and all sin. If we bring into that fellowship what offends God's nature and will, we do so at our own risk before Him. He will certainly defend Himself and His word. To be a Christian, however real, is not enough on its own — essential as it is. In 1 Corinthians 11:27 the apostle is not speaking of people at the table who are unworthy or unconverted. He is speaking of eating and drinking the Lord's supper in an unworthy way.

If one ate of this offering while he was unclean, he was to be "cut off from his people" (v. 20). Death may seem a harsh sentence for such a thing. But the Lord wants to impress on us how serious it is to pretend to have fellowship with Him while living in sinful practices.

Verse 20 deals with a person's own uncleanness… Anyone who is evil in life, or wrong in what he teaches, cannot take part in the Breaking of Bread. In v. 21, however, "touching" is mentioned. That reminds us of defilement through association. An Israelite might have been clean in himself. Should he have contact with anything unclean, he could not eat of the peace offering.

The people were not examining themselves to see if they were Israelites. That was settled by their birth. Nor do we examine ourselves to find out whether we are children of God, for that was settled for ever when we were born of God by faith in Christ Jesus. But an Israelite who had uncleanness on him, because he had touched something defiling, had to be cleansed from it and made clean before he ate of the peace offering. In the same way, we have to be clean when we come to the Lord's table.

See what care God took to guard His people from attempting what His nature must reject. It was not simply that they would fail in what they sought. They would provoke God, who is light, to act in judgment against them, because He is holy. Under law, death was the penalty if anyone unclean ate of the peace offering, for it belonged to the Lord. Under grace, we are told to confess our sins, and communion will be restored (1 John 1:9).

In the peace offering God has His share. Christ (the High Priest) has His share. The individual offerer has his share. And the family of priests (all believers) have their share. So sharing together in the enjoyment of the sacrifice of Christ stands out as a mark of the peace offering.

Every Israelite could be invited to share the feast, but one condition could not be bent: he had to be clean… Grace leaves us free to enjoy fellowship with the LORD, with Christ the Priest, with all His priests, and with the very simplest of His people. So we are bound to refuse everything irreverent and everything evil.

Verse 20 deals with someone's personal uncleanness… Anyone whose life is evil, or whose teaching is wrong, cannot take part in the Lord's Supper. Verse 21, though, speaks of "touching." That reminds us of defilement through association. An Israelite might be clean in himself. But if he had contact with anything unclean, he could not eat of the peace offering.

This was not a question of personal uncleanness, but simply of association with uncleanness. So today, across the Christian world, countless cases of unclean doctrine and practice have come in. The Christian is warned, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them, says the Lord, and touch no unclean thing; then I will welcome you" (2 Cor. 6:17).

Here we have two things clearly set before us: sin in us, and sin on us. God permitted "leaven," because there was sin in the worshipper's nature. God forbade "uncleanness," because there should be no sin on the worshipper's conscience. If sin is in question, communion must be out of the question. God has met and provided for the sin He knows is in us, by the blood of atonement… The cutting off of the worshipper for ceremonial uncleanness answers to the suspension of the believer's communion now, because of unconfessed sin.

Death may seem a harsh sentence for such a thing, but the Lord intends to press upon us the seriousness of pretending to have fellowship with Him while indulging in sinful practices.

See what care God took to guard His people from attempting what His nature must reject. It was not only that they would fail in what they came for. They would also provoke God, who is light, to judge them, because He is holy. Under law, death was the penalty if anyone unclean ate the peace offering, for it belonged to the LORD. Under grace, our part is to confess our sins, and communion will be restored (1 John 1:9).

God's hand in discipline had removed some of the Corinthians for a sin that was, in principle, like the one Leviticus 7:21 warned Israel against.

Being a Christian, however real, is not enough on its own, essential as it is. In 1 Corinthians 11:27 the apostle is not speaking of unworthy or unconverted people at the table, but of eating and drinking the Lord's Supper "in an unworthy manner."

This last truth accounts for the separate communication that follows in Lev. 7:22-27. The peace offering was the only one of these offerings that allowed the Lord's people to eat. So the abuse of that privilege had to be strictly forbidden. This prohibition reached everyone without exception. The word had come to Aaron and his sons in Lev. 6:24-25. It stretches down to this point in Lev. 7, where God tells Moses to speak to the children of Israel: they were to eat no fat of the sacrificial animals, nor of any animal that died on its own or was torn. And all blood was forbidden outright. The inward energy was sacred to Jehovah, and the life was too. He would allow no meddling with His sole right here.

This is clearly the right place to insert the prohibition before us. It follows the law of the peace offerings, which had carefully set out the general rules about eating and not eating. In that sacrifice, as in the sin offering, the greatest stress fell on the fat, above all the fat of the inner parts. Aaron's sons were to burn it on the altar as the food of the fire offering, a sweet aroma to Jehovah. The fat stood for the excellence and energy that belonged to what was offered to Jehovah in sacrifice.

The fat pictures the energy of the inward will; compare Deut. 32:15, "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked" — the will was in opposition to God. Here the fat was not the Lord's. In the Lord Jesus there was perfect subjection and devotedness: "Behold, I have come to do your will, O God." There the fat was all the Lord's.

The peace offering is thanksgiving and praise. At heart it is an offering of communion. God had His part, Aaron and his sons theirs, the priest who sprinkled the blood his, and last of all, the one who brought it had his share.

The Father alone could rightly appreciate the unique excellence of Christ, who said, "I delight to do your will, O God." God alone could measure all that was involved in accepting His will without reserve. That acceptance included all the suffering and shame of the cross. So it fits that the Spirit calls the fat "the food of the offering." It is Jehovah's own portion, the part that He alone can appreciate. As another has said, "We can contemplate what is not given us to appropriate."

The fat of the offering was God's own portion. So He withheld it from His people under penalty of death... The nations around them could eat the fat freely; Israel could not. Were the people then worse off than the Gentiles? Certainly not. They were God's own people, privileged and blessed beyond all others. But being such, they were to obey. They were to own that what the fat pictured must be surrendered wholly to God. We see that in the life of the Lord Jesus Christ here below. Others feel free to indulge in things that do not suit a child of God. So, like Israel, we have to own that we must check the liberty to follow our own will. This may make us seem odd in the eyes of the world.

In Israel God insisted that it was a perpetual statute that they eat neither fat nor blood. Today Scripture warns believers plainly not to eat blood (Acts 15:20). God brought in this restriction when He first allowed men to eat animals (Gen. 9:3-4), long before He gave the law to Israel. But neither at that time, nor under grace today, is there any restriction about eating fat.

Life belongs to God, and in the blood is the life of the flesh. So whoever eats the blood in effect claims that life belongs to him. That is an act of high treason against God.

Of these offerings, the peace offering was the only one Jehovah's people were allowed to eat. So any abuse of the privilege had to be strictly forbidden. This prohibition reached everyone without exception. The word had come to Aaron and his sons; here Moses is told to speak to the people of Israel. No fat of the sacrificial animals was to be eaten, nor of what died of itself, or was torn. Blood too was completely forbidden. Not only the inward energy, but the life as well was sacred to Jehovah. He would allow no meddling with His sole right and title here.

This portion of the sacrifices was to be burned on the altar, for all the fat is the Lord's. As to the fat, this seems to refer to that "of ox, or of sheep, or of goat," the animals of sacrifice. It also refers to the fat of any animal that died of itself, or was torn by beasts (Leviticus 7:23-24). In Nehemiah 8:10 the call went out, "eat the fat," with no restriction. But there the Hebrew word is different, and means something closer to "rich food."... The "fat" signifies the best part, the inward energy and will.

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

Only the Father could rightly appreciate Christ's unique excellence. God alone could measure all that was involved in accepting His will without reserve. That acceptance included all the suffering and shame of the cross... It is Jehovah's exclusive portion; that which He alone can appreciate. As another has said, "We can contemplate what is not given us to appropriate."

Keep this expression firmly in mind: "which belong to the Lord" (Leviticus 7:20). The worship — what passes in our hearts in it — is not ours. It is God's. God has put it there for our joy, so that we may share in the offering of Christ, His joy in Christ. But the moment we make it ours, we desecrate it.

The flesh of the peace offering could be eaten. So some might reason that the fat and blood should not be withheld from them either. Many today reason in the same way, for they do not distinguish things that differ. So God insists, as He had often done before, that the fat of any offerings was never to be eaten. Disobedience to this law was also punishable by death (Leviticus 7:25).

The surrounding nations could freely eat the fat, which to Israel was forbidden. Were the people, then, worse off than the Gentiles? Certainly not. They were God's own people, privileged and blessed beyond all others. But being such they were to be obedient. They were to own that what the fat pictured was to be all surrendered to God, as we see it was in the Lord Jesus Christ's life here below. There are things in which others feel free to indulge that are not suited for a child of God. So, like Israel, we have to own that the liberty to exercise our own will must be checked.

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

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

The fat stood for the inner excellence and energy of what people offered in sacrifice to Jehovah. So it was not for the priests to use. It was a restful odour to Him who alone could fully value it in the One it pictured.

An animal that died of itself, or that another animal killed, was already forbidden whole in Exodus 22:31. Israel was to throw it to the dogs. Its fat was even more clearly unlawful for Israelites, since they were holy to Jehovah. In any other way they might use it.

Life belonged to God and was to be consecrated to God; to Him alone it belonged or could belong. Life spent or taken by another was high treason against God's title… But it was no less true that everything belonged to God and belongs to God. Man could not take it for his own use. A man might still use it when a beast died or was torn. But whenever man of his own will took the life of a beast, he had to recognise God's title, submit his will, and own that the will of God alone has a claim.

The worshipper could eat the flesh of the peace offering. So some might reason that God should not hold back the fat and blood from them either. Many today reason in the same way, for they do not distinguish things that differ. So God insists, as He had often done before, that the fat of any offering was never to be eaten. It speaks of the energy of the Lord's devotion to His Father, and was therefore for God alone.

In the light of all this, how fitting that the Spirit calls the fat "the food of the offering." It is Jehovah's exclusive portion, the part He alone can appreciate. As another has said, "We can contemplate what is not given us to appropriate."

The fat allowed there was of course not the fat kept for Him alone in the sacrificial portions. It was fitting that He should have His own delight in what glorified Him in Christ. And it was wonderful grace that we should have not just pardon or justification, but real fellowship in the same Christ, though not in the same measure or way. If God shares His joy with us in Christ's sacrifice, then those who are His should listen all the more to His call to reverence and godly fear.

The first thing I notice is that he refuses entirely what nature would have accepted and enjoyed. I have no doubt the devil said, "There is no use setting up to be separated to God in a day of ruin; you are in Babylon, do as Babylon does." I have a purpose in my heart, replies Daniel — and he stuck to it.

The peace offering was the only one of these offerings that allowed eating on the part of the Lord's people. So any abuse of the privilege had to be rigidly forbidden. This prohibition reached everyone without exception... And all blood, of every kind, was forbidden as food. Not only the inward energy, but the life too was sacred to the Lord. He would allow no meddling with His sole right and title here.

Life belonged to God and was to be consecrated to God; to Him alone it belonged or could belong. Life spent or taken by another was high treason against God's title... But it was no less true that all belonged to God and belongs to God: man could not take it for his own use. A man could use it in the case of a beast that died or was torn. But whenever he chose to take the life of a beast, he had to recognise God's title, submit his will, and own the will of God as alone having a claim.

But the blood was forbidden to the whole people, who knew, as no one else then did, that life belongs to God. It did not matter what the animal was, fowl or beast: all of it was forbidden. Eating blood denied the rights of God the Creator; and if man forfeited his own rights by sin, the Lord maintained His title over life unimpaired.

Life belongs to God, so no one of the human race was to eat blood. The sinner, too, has forfeited his life. He can only live before God through the death of a sacrifice in his place... But if they were forbidden the blood, they were reminded how it could speak to God on their behalf. The blood makes atonement for the soul... Of three important truths, then, the prohibition to eat blood reminds us. We are creatures, and must remember it. We were by nature sinners, and must acknowledge it. We owe atonement by blood wholly to God, and must always own it... So atonement is all of grace. The One to whom life belongs has given the blood to be poured out for our everlasting blessing.

On the other hand, the blood of no living creature could they eat; for life belongs to God. The recognition that life belongs to God is binding on all men... God has forbidden blood to all. He forbade the fat of the sacrifice only to His people.

This ban started when God first allowed animals to be eaten as food (Genesis 9:3-5). Blood was never to be eaten, and this is as true today as it was then (Acts 15:28-29). As for eating fat, this was forbidden only in the case of animals being sacrificed (v. 25). But any eating of blood was punishable by death under law (v. 27). We do not carry out that sentence under grace, though eating blood is just as serious a wrong today as at any time. For "the blood is the life," and in this matter we must recognise God's rights as the Lifegiver.

As a Jew, obedient to the word of God, Daniel could not eat the food of the Gentile nations. Even with the animals a Jew could eat, the fat and the blood were forbidden... So Daniel and his companions could not accept the royal food. To take it, they would have had to give up their faith and reject the word of their God.

But the blood was completely forbidden to the people who knew, as no others did in those days, that life belongs to God. It made no difference what the animal was, bird or beast — all of it was forbidden absolutely. Eating blood denied the rights of God, the Creator. Man forfeited his own rights by sin, but the LORD kept His title over life untouched. God set up human government in the first place to deal with death caused on purpose. Shed blood is its sign, and it belongs to God alone. Man has no right to take it for himself.

The blood of no beast or bird was to be eaten, for it is the life of the creature, and life belongs to God. For Israel, this rule enforced in a special way what God laid down after the flood, in Noah's time (Genesis 9:4). So the apostles and elders gave this instruction to Gentile believers, as recorded in Acts 15:20 and 29. They were not imposing a mere item of the law of Moses on them. This is a prohibition that applies to all people. We do well to keep it. But we do not need to copy the extreme care the Jews took, as the instruction of 1 Corinthians 10:25 shows.

Feasting with God on the fat of the inner parts of any animal offered in sacrifice would have been a privilege — fellowship with Him. As food, it was flatly denied them. What the fat symbolised was for God... On the other hand, they could not eat the blood of any living creature; for life belongs to God. The recognition that life belongs to God is binding on all men... God has forbidden blood to all. He forbade the fat of the sacrifice only to His people.

Blood was never to be eaten, and this is as true today as it was then (Acts 15:28-29). As to eating fat, this was forbidden only in cases of animals being sacrificed (v. 25). But any eating of blood was punishable by death, under law (v. 27). Such a sentence is not to be carried out under grace, though eating blood is just as seriously wrong today as at any time. For "the blood is the life," and we must in this matter recognise God's rights as the lifegiver.

So complete was the change that now He commands what would once have been the greatest sin. Unless one eats the flesh and drinks the blood of the Son of Man, there is no life. The sign of His death gives life to us, and is absolutely necessary. To have life one must drink what was due only and strictly to God the judge of sin. But now Christ has changed it all for us. The very blood that it would have been most criminal to touch or taste before must now be drunk by us. So the standing witness to the work of Christ that the Christian sees is in the bread and wine of the Lord's Supper.

This man had learned, I have no doubt, to read the Scriptures. He knew that the king's meat had been offered to idols, and he also knew God's mind about the fat and the blood.

It is not brought because of any trespass. No forgiveness is connected with it, and it is not said to make atonement… In Leviticus 7:11-21 and 28-36 we have "the law" of this offering. Verse 30 appoints that the offerer is to bring the portions that are to be burnt to the altar with his own hands. This is special to the peace offering. He is not to put these on the altar — the priest must do that — but bring them to it. It is the nearest approach for the Israelite (not a priest) to God.

This passage is a picture of presenting the excellencies of Christ to God the Father. You cannot do that second-hand. It calls for personal exercise of heart, pictured by the stress laid on the offerer's own hands.

"His own hands shall bring the offerings of the Lord made by fire" (v.30)… It is not only what we gain from others, but what do they gain from us? This peace offering would raise the question with every one of us: What are we adding to the little company where we belong, that spiritually enriches them? It is not a question of giving lectures or standing up and preaching the gospel. It is the bringing of anything that bears the character of Christ Himself.

When we come to the law of the peace offering, there is a portion for Jehovah, for the priest who offers it, for the priests in general, and for the company. There is God's joy, Christ's own joy; the priests generally, as such, rejoice, and so does the company of the faithful.

We now come to the final revelation about the peace offering, and its subject is the right sharing out of the different parts of the sacrifice among everyone concerned. Chapter 3 has already described how Jehovah's part was prepared and offered. Here we learn that the breast was waved and the right shoulder heaved. Both acts mean the same thing: an open acknowledgement that the portion waved or heaved was for God. The breast speaks of the affections, the right shoulder of a person's strength, which in Christ were both given wholly to God. The breast was for Aaron and his sons. God gave it to them, and what it pictures God has given us — the love of Christ to share in. The right shoulder was for the priest who offered, the picture of the Lord Himself. For who knew as He did the strength needed to do God's will!

They sprinkled the blood on the altar and then ate the sacrifice. So those who knowingly shared in it were counted as partakers of the altar. This was the way of showing communion, whether with an idol or between a believer and God… Christ is presented here as the perfect burnt offering, wholly given up to God in death for His glory. But He is also an offering on which we feed. He is not only God's delight; He is that of which we can partake with Him. He is the subject-matter of communion.

If Christians in gladness of heart come to seek the Lord in communion, the Spirit is present… But if they are not very watchful, their joy degenerates. It outlasts what is spiritual and becomes joy in the flesh. The real test and power of this is its connection with the sacrifice offered.

No other offering opens up the worshipper's communion as fully as the peace offering does. In the burnt offering, Christ offers Himself to God. In the grain offering, we have Christ's perfect humanity. Then, moving on to the sin offering, we learn that sin at its root is fully met. In the trespass offering, there is a full answer to the actual sin in the life. But none of them opens up the teaching of the worshipper's communion. That belongs to the peace offering, and this, I believe, is why the law of that offering stands where it does. It comes last of all. It teaches us that when it is a question of the soul feeding on Christ, it must be a full Christ.

The law of the peace offering runs from verse 11 to verse 34. The order of the offerings is changed, and here it comes last. The reason, we suppose, is this. In the other cases only the priests shared in the offering. Here the ordinary person who brought it was allowed a share as well.

It is not brought because of any trespass. No forgiveness is connected with it, and it is not said to make atonement… In Leviticus 7:11-21 and 28-36 we have "the law" of this offering. Verse 30 lays down that the offerer must bring the portions that are to be burned to the altar with his own hands. This is special to the peace offering. He is not to put them on the altar — the priest must do that — but he brings them to it. This is the nearest an Israelite who is not a priest can come to God.

In picture, this passage speaks of presenting the excellencies of Christ to God the Father. No one can do that second-hand. It calls for real exercise of heart, pictured by the stress laid on the offerer's own hands.

First of all we must be sure that it is "of the Lord". It is no good bringing something that comes from ourselves, something we have imagined or something we like. There is no room for such offerings in the divine circle. But however small it is, even if it is only one small feature of Christ, there is room for it in that circle. We must be sure that what we bring is entirely "of the Lord". It must be divine in origin.

We are all able to bring something. One thing about this peace offering is that its width brings everyone in. Who cannot give thanks to God? Who cannot freely offer something for the pleasure of God?… Whatever we bring as a peace offering becomes food for the souls of the saints; it is an offering to God. Whatever we bring, the idea is spiritual food that enriches the company we belong to.

A fresh word from the Lord in verses 28-36 claims the breast that is waved and the shoulder that is lifted up out of the peace offering. The breast was for the whole priestly family, Aaron and his sons; the shoulder was for the priest who offered. Each was their fixed portion for ever from the children of Israel. So the Lord had His part, and the Israelite was free to enjoy his own — himself, his family, and any Israelite he invited to share, as long as they were clean. Only in this last word from Him, and in solemn, emphatic language, do we find that He reserved a special portion, not to weaken the fellowship but to deepen it. Aaron and his sons, as we have seen, stand for Christ and His own. For us, communion falls short if it does not take in the Head and the body, all the saints.

This passage speaks in picture form of presenting the excellencies of Christ to God the Father. That is something which cannot be done second-hand. It calls for personal exercise of heart, pictured by the stress laid on the offerer's own hands.

"The law" of this offering says that the offerer must bring the portions that are to be burnt to the altar with his own hands. This is special to the peace offering. He is not to put these on the altar — the priest must do that — but bring them to it. It is the nearest approach for the Israelite (who is not a priest) to God. The breast was given to Aaron and his sons; the rest belonged to the offerer, for himself and his household.

The fat speaks of the excellency of the offerings, and it always goes to God; the fat comes first. Before we can help other believers, we must be going on with our own souls before God. We must present the thing to God Himself — the excellencies of that offering — if the people of God are going to get the benefit of a food offering in that circle.

The offering is called "the food" or "bread" of the fire offering to the Lord. How wonderful that He and we enjoy the same offering! How far from the truth of Christ it is, then, to find in this burning of the fat "the offering up of our good affections to God in all our prayers and praises." Far worse still is to call it "the putting to death of our corrupt affections and lusts, and the burning up of them by the fire of divine grace." … No; it was neither our good offered up, nor our bad put to death, but the inward energy of Christ Himself, as the perfect and lasting ground of communion for God and His family.

The rabbis explain that the heave shoulder was moved up and down, and the wave breast waved from side to side. The actions were done "before the Lord." They seem to picture those who moved the offerings as really in His presence, with their hands filled with Christ.

The idea in a heave-offering was the taking up of a part to offer it to God. The idea of the wave-offering is wider: it implies consecration to God, for it was waved before the Lord.

The priest waved the breast before it was eaten by "Aaron and his sons." The waving would speak of our grasp and enjoyment of the love of Christ. It matches the delight that God has in it. None of the priestly sons are shut out from enjoying "the love of Christ"; it was the portion of all to feed on the breast.

We should all bring something to that company that is of help to them; it is not only what we gain from others, but what do they gain from us? … There may be testing about it — the offerings of the Lord are "made by fire," tested by holy discernment in the power of the Spirit of God. It is called a sacrifice, and that means it may cost us a little to keep the thing going. It costs time and opportunity we could have used on ourselves, but which we are quite prepared to give to the company for the blessing of all.

The fat stood for the inner excellence and energy of the sacrifice offered to Jehovah. So it was not for the priests to use. It was a fragrance of rest to Him who alone could fully value it in the One that sacrifice pictured.

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

The rabbis explain that the heave shoulder was moved up and down, and the wave breast waved from side to side. They did these actions "before the Lord." This seems to picture those who moved the offerings as truly in His presence, with their hands full of Christ.

The wave breast speaks of the movement of affection. The heave shoulder speaks of the movement of strength. But the wave breast always came before the heave shoulder. That is, love lies under the vertical heave offering. The ability behind the movement of strength is love.

Aaron and his sons typify all believers. The breast was their portion. What does the breast speak to us of? The place of affection. The love of the Lord Jesus to us is beyond words, and it is our portion forever. We must always remember that the blessed Lord Jesus loves all His people. As individuals we say, He "loved me and gave Himself for me." As one people we say, He "loved the church and gave Himself up for her."

Aaron is typical of Christ, and his sons speak of God's saints as worshipers. When the offering came to the Lord, the breast was waved as a wave offering to the Lord and then given to Aaron and his sons. The sacrifice of course speaks of Christ sacrificed on Calvary. But the wave breast reminds us of His exaltation in heaven. The breast shows the warmth of His love flowing out now, and that is wonderful food for true worshipers.

So God, the offering priest, Aaron and his sons, and the person who brought the animal all fed on the same thing — the same animal. It becomes, then, a very simple picture of communion with God, with the Lord Jesus Christ — the offering Priest — and with one another as believers.

The breast was the common portion of Aaron and his sons. Eating it shaped the one who ate. So today the love of Christ is the common portion of all the saints, together with Christ. When a believer takes that love in, it forms and nourishes him. We shall love in the way that Christ loved.

Put these verses together, and it becomes very clear. First, the fat was God's, and it was burned on the altar as a sweet savour. Second, the breast belonged to Aaron and his sons. Third, the right shoulder belonged to the offering priest — a picture of the Lord Jesus. As I said before, the one who brought the animal ate the rest of it with his friends. So God, the offering priest, Aaron and his sons, and the person who brought the animal in sacrifice all fed upon the same thing — the same animal. It becomes, therefore, a very simple picture of communion with God, and with the Lord Jesus Christ — the offering Priest — and with one another as believers.

The rabbis explain that the heave shoulder was moved up and down, while the wave breast was waved from side to side. Both actions were done 'before the Lord.' They seem to show that those who moved the offerings stood in His presence, with their hands full of Christ.

The heave offering was more absolute than the wave offering, though the same offering could sometimes be called by either name, depending on the aspect in view. The heave offering was not the whole of what was offered, but a part offered to Jehovah. The whole breast was waved, and the right shoulder was heaved. The breast stood for the affections as a whole, and the shoulder for the strength that could best carry the burden. Christ and His own, near to God, enjoy the love together; and He, as the Priest who offered, has His special joy in what stood for the support of the weak.

God claimed in this way a portion of what the shoulders symbolize, while all that the breast pictured was declared to belong to Him. The shoulder seems to stand for capability for service; and the right shoulder means that what was best able to bear the burden should be given up to Him.

The right shoulder stood for strength, and it went to the one who pictured the Lord Jesus. Who but the One who gave up His life on the cross could know what strength that took?

It was the priest's due; but God would not leave him to claim it. The person who brought the sacrifice was to give him the right shoulder. To Aaron and his sons, the males of the holy priesthood, he was to give the breast. The Lord claimed these portions, the right shoulder to be heaved, and the breast to be waved; and then, as His, gave them to the priests. This rule for the officiating priest was never to be abolished.

The right shoulder was the portion of the priest who offered the blood and the fat of the peace offering. As we present Christ to God in communion, we can feed on Him. In His walk down here He was always for the will and pleasure of God, and in this way we would gain the strength to walk "even as He walked."

If we turn to the law of the offerings, we find that the rest was eaten. The breast was for Aaron and his sons, a picture of the whole church. The right shoulder was for the priest who sprinkled the blood, and he is more especially a picture of Christ as the offering priest. The rest of the animal was eaten by the man who presented it, and by those he invited.

When the peace offering had been dealt with correctly at the altar, the priest who offered it received his appointed portion. The person who brought the offering had to give it to him. It was the priest's due; but God would not leave him to claim it: the person who brought the sacrifice was to give him the right shoulder... This rule about the officiating priest was never to be cancelled. In the wilderness the portion was his, and in the land too (Deut. 18:3); once they were in the land, the two cheeks and the stomach are named as his portion as well. The right shoulder pictures strength, and it went to the man who pictured the Lord Jesus. For who but the One who gave up His life on the cross could really know what strength that took?

The whole breast was waved and the right shoulder was heaved. The breast stands for the affections as a whole, and the shoulder for the strength that could best carry the burden. Christ and His own enjoy the love together in nearness to God. He, as the Priest who offered, has His own special joy in what stood for the support of the weak. But the fat, or inward energy, like the blood, was Jehovah's portion. So while all shared communion in Christ, each one had what was specially due to him, on unchanging grounds and for ever.

The offering priest is a picture of the Lord Jesus, who offered Himself without spot to God. He must surely have His part in all this blessed communion and joy and worship, because it has all come about through Him.

So God, the offering priest, Aaron and his sons, and the person who brought the animal as a sacrifice all fed on the same thing – the same animal. It becomes, then, a very simple picture of communion with God, with the Lord Jesus Christ – the offering Priest – and with one another as believers.

But the right shoulder became the portion of the priest that offered the blood of the peace offering (Lev. 7:33). So that the offerer was reinforced in his strength for walk by eating. There is thus a singular reflex action between our assimilation of Christ and our strength for right conduct in the responsible sphere of our lives.

But the right shoulder was the portion of the priest who offered the blood and the fat of the peace offering. As we present Christ to God in communion, we can feed on Him who, in His walk down here, always lived for the will and pleasure of God. In this way we would gain the strength to walk "even as He walked" (1 John 2:6).

It was the priest's due, but God would not leave him to claim it… The Lord claimed these portions — the right shoulder to be heaved, the breast to be waved. Then, as His own, He gave them to the priests.

What are we to learn from this rich and generous gift of "the wave breast and heave shoulder" as the priests' food? Only this: that all the unsearchable, perfect love of Christ, and His almighty power too, are laid open to us for the everlasting comfort and strength of our souls. The breast is the seat of the affections, the shoulder the source of power; both are set before us here. And as we feed, the need of our souls is met in the most precious way. It spreads out before us both the affections and the strength of Him who made peace for us by the blood of His cross.

The wave offering was waved from side to side. After that, the right shoulder of the heave offering was lifted up and down. One is the movement of affection, the other the movement of strength. But the wave breast always came before the heave shoulder. Love lies under the upward heave offering: the ability behind the movement of strength is love.

The breast speaks of the affections, the right shoulder of a person's strength, which in Christ were both consecrated to God. The breast was for Aaron and his sons. God gave it to them; and what it pictures God has given us — the love of Christ to share in. The right shoulder was for the priest who offered, the type of the Lord Himself. For who knew as He did the strength needed to do God's will! The rest of the animal the offerer could feast on at home with all his friends who were clean, a picture of Israel's communion with God in the sacrifice of Christ in a day to come. So Christ Himself, Christians, and Israel all have fellowship with God in the death and life of Christ.

The sacrifice of course speaks of Christ sacrificed on Calvary, but the wave breast reminds us of His exaltation in heaven, the breast indicating the warmth of His love flowing out now, which is wonderful food for true worshipers to feed upon.

The whole breast was waved and the right shoulder heaved — the symbols of the affections as a whole, and of the strength best able to carry the burden. Christ and His own, near to God, enjoy the love together. As the Priest who offered, He has His special joy in the part that stood for the support of the weak. So while all had their communion in Christ, each one had what was due to him in particular, on unchangeable ground and for ever.

How great was their sin! They profaned the sacrifices of the people, and to that they added shameless gluttony, though God had made ample provision to support them. But no, this was not enough. They had to have more. If the poor, bullied people of God did not give it willingly, they would take it by force… They stopped at nothing to satisfy their appetites, and robbed both God and His people in their shameless greed.

Here the anointing of Aaron and the anointing of his sons are linked together. Wherever we have Aaron and his sons brought together, it speaks of Christ and the Church… We take up these things in communion with Christ because we belong to Him, and are associated with Him in the power of the Holy Spirit of God… This law of the peace offering sums up the spiritual enlightenment, the spiritual blessing, that we have been brought into in association with Christ.

The most excellent portion of the sacrifice was laid on God's altar. The inward parts — the hidden energies, the tender feelings of the blessed Jesus — were given to God. He alone could perfectly enjoy them. Aaron and his sons fed on "the wave breast" and "the heave shoulder"… And now all true believers, made priests to God by grace, can feed on the affections and the strength of the true Peace Offering. They can enjoy the happy assurance that His loving heart and powerful shoulder will comfort and sustain them always.

Aaron and his sons always picture believers — all believers in Christ — not looked at as one body, but looked at as individual priests to God. Aaron on his own is a picture of Christ.

The fat was God's, burned on the altar for a sweet savour. The breast belonged to Aaron and his sons. The right shoulder belonged to the offering priest — a picture of the Lord Jesus. As I said before, the one who brought the animal ate the rest of it with his friends. So God, the offering priest, Aaron and his sons, and the one who brought the animal all fed on the same thing — the same animal. So it becomes a very simple picture of communion. It is communion with God, with the Lord Jesus Christ — the offering Priest — and with one another as believers.

Jehovah had His part. The Israelite was free to enjoy the rest — himself, his family, and any Israelite he invited to share, provided they were all clean… Only in this last communication, and in solemn, weighty words, do we read that Jehovah reserved a special portion. He did it not to weaken the fellowship but to deepen it. Aaron and his sons we have seen to mean Christ and His own. For us, any communion that leaves out the Head and the body — all saints — falls far short.

This is our portion, the portion of the anointing. It is the normal work of the Holy Spirit, as we see in John 13, 14, 15 and 16. We have the confirmation of the Lord's own words, "He will take what is mine and declare it to you." We have the power to take it in and to enjoy it in our souls. As the result of taking it for ourselves, we are able to present to God a "voluntary offering" and a "thanksgiving," so giving pleasure to God and feeding His people.

In verses 28-36 a fresh word from the LORD claims the wave-breast and the heave-shoulder out of the Peace offering. The breast was for the whole priestly family, Aaron and his sons; the shoulder for the priest who offered. Both were their fixed portion for ever from the children of Israel. So the LORD had His part. The Israelite was still free to enjoy his own share with his family and any Israelite he invited, as long as they were all clean. Only in this last word from God, and in language of solemn emphasis, do we find that He reserved a special portion. He did it not to weaken the fellowship but to deepen it.

The breast was waved, and the right shoulder heaved. Both acts meant the same thing: an open acknowledgement that the portion waved or heaved was for God. The breast speaks of the affections, the right shoulder of a person's strength. In Christ both were given wholly to God. The breast was for Aaron and his sons. God gave it to them, and what it pictures God has given us: the love of Christ to share in. The right shoulder was for the priest who offered, a picture of the Lord Himself. For who knew as He did the strength needed to do God's will!

Here the anointing of Aaron and the anointing of his sons are linked together. Wherever we have Aaron and his sons brought together, it speaks of Christ and the church... We take up these things in communion with Christ because we belong to Him, and we are joined to Him in the power of the Holy Spirit of God. It is the spiritual enlightenment, the spiritual blessing that God has brought us into, in association with Christ.

The wave breast and the heave shoulder became food for the offering priest. Taught by the Holy Spirit, we first learn these blessed features in Christ. Then, as we feed on them, we become like Him, formed in the same blessed features. So the gifts brought "to the LORD" also feed the priests and sustain them in their priestly service. May we all seek to be helpers in this way. What we gain in our own souls of the preciousness of Christ, and bring into the company as an offering to God, will enrich the whole company.

What strength and stability we have here! All the members of the priestly family, "daughters" as well as "sons", are to feed on "the breast" and "the shoulder" — whatever their measure of energy or capacity. These are the affections and the strength of the true Peace Offering, raised from the dead and presented before God in resurrection. This precious privilege is theirs "by a statute for ever, as the Lord has commanded." That makes everything sure and steadfast, come what may. Men may fail and fall short. Men may offer strange fire. But God's priestly family must never lose the rich and gracious portion that divine love has provided and divine faithfulness has secured.

How great was their sin! On top of treating the people's sacrifices as common, they added shameless greed for food, though God had made ample provision for their support... But no, this was not enough. They must have more. And if the poor, bullied people of God would not give it willingly, they would take it by force... They stopped at nothing to satisfy their appetites, and robbed both God and His people in their shameless greed.

This word "law" comes from the Hebrew word "torah," which means teaching. So the "law of the offerings" would show the teaching of the offerings.

From verse 8 of chapter 6 to the end of Leviticus 7 we have the law of the various offerings. In each case the "law" gives further detail on how to present the offering to the Lord, and above all on how the priests were to deal with the parts that were not burned before Him.

Christ, the offering of Christ, is the reality in which all these shadows meet. The varied colours of each and all blend into that one perfect light. God delighted in that light, because it displayed His nature in His Son, who became man in grace and truth for man. Man had neither grace nor truth, and now by faith he receives both. And all this comes in a sacrifice which not only bore the sins of the first man, but also passed to him the acceptance of the Second Man, as a fragrance of rest before God.

It is interesting to notice that, although the peace offering itself stands third in order, the law of that offering is given to us last of all. There is no offering in which the communion of the worshipper is opened up as fully as in the peace offering. In the burnt offering, it is Christ offering Himself to God. In the grain offering, we have Christ's perfect humanity. Then, moving on to the sin offering, we learn that sin, at its root, is fully met. In the guilt offering, there is a full answer to the actual sins in the life. But in none of those is the communion of the worshipper opened up. It comes at the close of all. This teaches us that, when it becomes a question of the soul feeding on Christ, it must be a full Christ, seen in every possible aspect of His life, His character, His Person, His work, His offices.

The order of the offerings is changed, and here it comes last. The reason, we suppose, is this: in the other cases only the priests shared in the offering, but here the ordinary person who brought the offering was allowed to have a share.

The word translated "consecrate" in this chapter means, as the margin shows, "to fill the hand." This gives us what consecration means in Scripture. The common idea is that it lies in our giving something up to God. So the soul is thrown back on itself to find strength to devote itself and all its energies to God's service… Scripture shows a better way. Consecration lies, as this chapter shows, in being filled with Christ. It is Christ possessing, absorbing, and controlling our souls.

But it is a mistake, and a twisting of the word, to read our own devotedness into the burnt offering, or the grain offering, or the so-called peace offering, whatever impulse the truth in them may give to our souls. Instead, we are called in faith to see not only how completely we lack what Christ is, but how our fallen nature is the direct opposite of what we have learnt Christ to be in life and death… and as the result He brings us to enjoy communion with God, the Priest, and all the saints.

The book opens with the basis of all access to God — sacrifice and offering. His object is not the first man but the Second. So He begins with the burnt offering, the meal offering, and the peace offering. Only then does He move to the sin offering and the guilt offering, with the laws of each. That is the divine arrangement. In practice the order changes. With the priests the sin offering comes first; with a leper, the guilt offering. Who but God could arrange it like this?

There was no room left for fancy, for imagination, for man's plausible conclusions, or for clever human convenience. God laid it all down with divine precision and the commanding authority of "thus says the LORD." The sacrifices, rites and ceremonies were full of detail, yet man's brain originated none of it. He was not even allowed to decide what kind of sacrifice to offer on a given occasion, or how to present it. God took care of everything... The word of the LORD settled all. Man had only to obey.

"The LORD called Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting." That was where God spoke from in this book. He had been speaking from Mount Sinai, and that position shaped the message. From the fiery mountain came a fiery law. But here He speaks out of the tent of meeting. This was an entirely different position.

God is holy, no matter where He speaks from. He was holy on Mount Sinai, and holy above the mercy seat. But at the mountain His holiness came with "a devouring fire." Above the mercy seat it came with patient grace.

Once the tabernacle stood, as Exodus directed, the LORD took His place on His earthly throne and spoke to Moses from it. He had brought Israel up out of the land of Egypt. He had brought them to Himself. Now they gathered around Him in the wilderness, with His tabernacle among them. Egypt lay behind them, Canaan lay ahead, and Sinai overshadowed them — the mountain that had just been wrapped in smoke, because the LORD came down on it in fire. Moses had the privilege... of receiving the laws about sacrifice. They came as one of the first messages after the tabernacle went up.

All the offerings taken together give us a full view of Christ. They are like many mirrors, each reflecting the figure of that true and only perfect Sacrifice in a different way. No one type could fully present Him. We needed Him reflected in life and in death — as a Man and as a Victim, toward God and toward us.

Christ, the offering of Christ, is the reality in which all these shadows meet. The varied colours of each and all blend into that perfect light in which God delighted as the display of His nature in His Son.

The truth in these offerings may stir our souls. Even so, it is a mistake and a distortion of the word to read our own devotedness into the burnt, meal, or peace offering. Faith calls us instead to recognise our utter lack — and more, how deeply our fallen nature runs contrary to what we have learned Christ to be in life and in death.