And if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow, or voluntary, it shall be eaten the same day that he presented his sacrifice; on the morrow also the remainder of it shall be eaten;
Leviticus 7:16 turns to a second kind of peace offering: a vow or a freewill gift, not the thanksgiving offering of the verses just before. Why may its meal run two days, when thanksgiving lasts only one — and why is the third day shut out?
A worshipper could bring the peace offering for more than one reason, and the reason set the length of the meal. One writer lays the two motives side by side:
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.
The extra day is not a relaxed rule. It matches a strength in the worshipper that simple thanks does not have:
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.
Another writer traces the same difference to where the praise starts:
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.
Commentators differ on whether a Christian should make a vow at all. One holds that the practice itself is closed to us, while the heart behind it is not:
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.
Another describes it as a real committal to a piece of service, taken up freely and never imposed:
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.
The permission stops there. Stretch the feast further and it changes character:
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 two-day limit guards something in us. Joy in the Lord can keep running after the Spirit's power in it has gone:
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.
- Motive — thanksgiving answers a mercy just received; a vow or freewill offering surrenders something to God. The motive, not the animal, sets the length of the feast.
- Energy — devotion has a sustaining power that simple thanks does not, so the vow's meal reaches into a second day.
- Freedom — the vow is a free committal to God for His service, never a duty laid on us. One writer warns that we cannot promise our future, so the purpose of heart stands where the formal vow does not.
- Limit — a third day turns the offering into private feasting, so the meal stops at two days.
- Test — communion is only real while it stays joined to the sacrifice. Joy that outlasts its source has slipped from the Spirit into the flesh.
and the remainder of the flesh of the sacrifice on the third day shall be burned with fire.
Leviticus 7 gives the rules for the peace offering. It was the one sacrifice the worshipper himself ate, and this verse puts a time limit on that meal. Why would God set a clock on a feast He Himself provided, and why must the fire destroy what is left?
The peace offering had three shares. Part went up in fire to God, part belonged to the priests, and the man who brought it ate the rest.
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.
So the rule about the third day is a rule about fellowship — how long God and His people share one table.
How long the meal could last depended on which offering it was.
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.
Once the meal was over, the leftover meat could not become ordinary food.
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).
There was a practical danger as well.
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.
Commentators differ on how far to press the number three. One reading ties it to resurrection.
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.
Another writer keeps to the plain lesson: communion has a measure, and forcing it past that measure is only pretence.
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.
Worship rarely collapses outright. It fades while the words carry on.
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.
The same writer presses the warning further. Religious feeling can be produced without Christ being present at all.
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.
- Shared. The peace offering was food for God, for the priests, and for the man who brought it. One sacrifice, enjoyed together, with Christ as the subject of that fellowship.
- Fresh. The meal had to stay close to the sacrifice it came from, or it was no longer worship.
- Measured. A vow carried further than a thanksgiving. Even devotion had a limit: communion cannot be stretched past real spiritual power.
- Burned. What could no longer be eaten in fellowship went to the fire, so holy things never slid into ordinary use.
- Tested. Worship cut off from Christ is not neutral. God calls it an abomination. Better five words in the Spirit than a long performance of our own.
And if [any] of the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace-offering be eaten at all on the third day, it shall not be accepted, it shall not be reckoned to him that hath presented it; it shall be an unclean thing, and the soul that eateth of it shall bear his iniquity.
The peace offering was a shared meal: part burned to God, part given to the priests, and the rest eaten by the worshipper and his friends. Verse 18 sets a clock on that meal: meat eaten too late is tainted (older translations say "an abomination"), and the eater bears the guilt himself.
One writer gives two reasons for the two-day limit — one practical, one pointing forward.
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 would the same meat, fine on day two, be refused on day three?
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.
Worship can outlast the power that began it. One writer traces how that happens inside a single act of praise.
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."
The verse does not call the late meal merely worthless. The eater bears his iniquity, and one writer ties that verdict to the fat burned on the altar.
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.
Mackintosh applies the same words to worship dressed up with everything except Christ:
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.
The verse says the offering will not be credited to the one who brings it. One writer presses that home to the worshipper himself.
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).
One writer turns all this into a personal test.
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.
Another writer sums up the remedy in one line: "On the third day everything must be made new again." (Samuel Ridout)
- Connected — the meal drew all its worth from the sacrifice on the altar. Cut that link and nothing is left.
- Timed — God gave two days, so the meal would not turn into the offerer's own feast. The third day points to resurrection.
- Stretched — worship goes hollow when the outward act runs past the inward power. We can begin in the Spirit and end in the flesh.
- Charged — God does not call such worship weak. He calls it iniquity, and the offerer carries it himself.
- Renewed — the remedy is freshness, not routine. Christ is the ground, the Spirit the power, and each day's communion starts again.