Leviticus 7:11–14

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!