Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them, When ye come into the land of your dwellings, which I give unto you,
Israel had just refused the land, and God had sworn that the generation who despised it would die in the wilderness. So why does chapter 15 open with instructions for the day they will be living in that very land?
Read the chapters on either side, and the placement of these words becomes the point. One writer traces the sequence:
Before this verse comes the murmuring of the children of Israel, and their refusal to go into this very land — their absolute refusal. After it comes the rebellion of Korah, Dathan and Abiram. On one side is the deliberate refusal of the people to enter into their blessing. On the other is their rebellion and turning away from their leader. And what do you have in between? "When you come into the land." I may fail. I may turn back to Egypt in unbelief. My poor heart may rebel against the grace that has given me such a leader and high priest. But let unbelief and refusal stand on either side — in between, in the very heart of the book, is this precious assurance.
God gives directions for the land without a backward glance at what has just happened.
In the middle of all this comes chapter 15. There we learn that God goes on in His purpose as calmly and quietly as if the despising of the land had never happened. In the second verse He says, "When you come into the land you are to inhabit, which I am giving you." His purpose is as settled as if there had been no rebellion at all. He speaks in the calmness of His own purpose. After telling them of chastisement, He says: you shall come into the land. It is settled with Me. I go on in the steadfastness of My own counsels... Your rebellions would have sinned away the land, but I have given it to you. It is not a sin-offering you are to bring, but a burnt-offering. You are accepted, and you are going to worship Me there.
Israel's unbelief had concluded that everyone must perish:
This was a fresh pledge of bringing them into Canaan... So He repeats it in the middle of the chapter, telling Israel again that He will bring them into the land. This was His answer to the unbelief that thought all must perish — a double witness that God would surely bring them in.
Two opposite sentences stand over the same people. Both are true, because each looks from a different side.
If we look at man's side of the question, the sentence is, "You shall certainly not come into the land." But look at God's side, and we can reverse it: "You certainly shall."
God's side holds for a reason, and the reason is not in the people:
His counsels of grace stand. They rest not on Israel's obedience, but on what the offerings speak of — the perfection of the person of Christ and the perfection of His work of sacrifice. Such things need repeating over and over, because we are so slow to appreciate what they mean.
The promise does not cancel the discipline. Both stand together:
God speaks of their possessing the land just when they have refused it and been turned back from it. That is a plain encouragement to faith and an assurance of the unfailing grace of God toward the people. Look deeper, and there are also principles of divine government in it, which apply most plainly to the history... How God maintains His grace and yet His government, we find very clearly here.
The promise comes with a picture of life in the land — and that life reaches past Israel:
It speaks of the offerings of righteousness they are invited to bring to Him of their own free will. It speaks of the wine of joy that was to go with these offerings. And since this is grace, the love of God reaches out beyond Israel. He brings the stranger near to His people, and makes one law for both.
God teaches the practice of the land before they reach it:
He would bring His people in, and He would teach them in the wilderness their practice for the land. This is striking and remarkable indeed. Here we may challenge our hearts and ask a question. Are we aware enough that in the wilderness we are being taught our practice for the glory?
- Placement. Refusal stands before this verse and rebellion after it; the promise of the land sits in between.
- Purpose. God speaks of arrival as calmly as if the despising of the land had never occurred, and says it twice in one chapter.
- Ground. The certainty rests on Christ — His person and His sacrifice — not on Israel's obedience.
- Balance. Grace and government run side by side: the discipline is real, the promise is unbroken.
- Practice. The wilderness trains them for the land, and one law covers Israel and the stranger alike.
and will make an offering by fire to Jehovah, a burnt-offering or a sacrifice for the performance of a vow, or as a voluntary offering, or in your set feasts, to make a sweet odour to Jehovah, of the herd or of the flock,
Israel had just refused the land, and God had told that whole generation they would die in the wilderness. His next word to them is about the day they will live in Canaan and bring Him offerings. This verse names the occasions for those offerings and their purpose: to make what older translations call "a sweet savour" and the ESV calls "a pleasing aroma to the LORD."
Where this instruction sits matters. God speaks as though Israel's failure had changed nothing about His plan.
After all this unbelief from the people, you might have supposed they had lost the land for ever. So it is beautiful, in chapter 15, to see the Lord return to the perfect rest of His purposes fixed beforehand, and of His unchanging being. He gives instructions about the time when the people will have entered the land He has given them. The chapter speaks of the offerings of righteousness they are invited to bring to Him of their own free will.
That certainty has to rest on something, and it is not on the people who had just failed.
He had to discipline Israel. Even so, He makes it clear here that Israel will certainly come into their own land (v.2), and He provides for their true well-being at that time. His purposes of grace stand, because they rest not on Israel's obedience but on what the offerings speak of: the perfection of the person of Christ and the perfection of His work of sacrifice.
The verse names a vow, a freewill offering, and the appointed feasts. Each describes a different moment in which a heart moves toward God.
These offerings were to come from hearts touched by a sense of Jehovah's goodness, from people who wanted to do what gave Him pleasure, as the burnt offering shows. A vow was a special mark of devotion to the will of God. A freewill offering was the simple desire to give God something back for His generosity and goodness. The solemn feasts stirred the hearts of God's people, as fitting times to serve Him who constantly served them from resources that never run out.
The verse names a burnt offering and a sacrifice. The difference between the two lies in who receives the animal.
Basically, all were voluntary offerings, and they fell into two classes: burnt offerings or peace offerings. In the burnt offering, Jehovah had the whole of it. In the peace offering, the family of the priests, the priest who offered it, and the offerer all shared with Jehovah what was offered in sacrifice to Him. In other words, the burnt offering was a sacrifice of worship to Jehovah, and the peace offering a sacrifice of communion.
The verse gives the reason for the offering — its aroma. Fire is what produced it.
The burnt offering was a "sacrifice made by fire, of a sweet savour to Jehovah," Lev. 1:9. The more the fire searched it, the more its sweetness came out before God. It was the same with Christ. The fire of God's holiness came down and tested and searched all that was within Him, and it only brought out a "sweet savour" to God. This is our acceptance too. It is in this value that we go up to God. Being there, we have communion of worship and fellowship before Him.
The freewill character of the offering points beyond the Israelite bringing it.
The burnt offering stands for Christ. He willingly offered up His life to God as a sweet savour. "Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." When divine love comes down here, it always goes back up as self-sacrifice. God acts in love; Christ walked in love; and divine love acting in man offers itself a sweet savour to God.
What a worshipper could afford varied. What God thought of the offering did not.
A bullock was an animal of some value; a dove was a living creature of very little value in money. Some might afford a bird who could not afford a bullock. The Lord would receive it at their hands, and whether of the herd, of the flock, or of birds, it was in each case an offering made by fire of a sweet savour to the Lord... at God's altar the offerer was accepted, not according to how much he understood of the death of Christ, but according to God's estimate of it.
- Purpose — God answers Israel's unbelief with plans for the land. His purpose rests on Christ's perfection, not on Israel's obedience.
- Freedom — a vow, a freewill gift, a feast-day offering: each comes from a heart that has felt God's goodness.
- Fragrance — the fire tested the offering and drew out its sweetness. God accepts the worshipper in that same value.
- Fellowship — the burnt offering gave God the whole animal, and that is worship. The shared offering is communion.
- Measure — herd or flock, large or small: God valued the offering by His own estimate, never by the offerer's.
then shall he that presenteth his offering to Jehovah bring as oblation a tenth part of fine flour mingled with a fourth part of a hin of oil;
Israel was still under sentence in the wilderness when God told them what to bring Him once they reached the land. This verse names the smallest of those gifts: fine flour worked through with oil. Why did a bloodless gift have to travel with every animal sacrifice? And why did God fix the amount so exactly?
The placement of this law is striking.
The opening words of Numbers 15 are certainly remarkable. The people had just been told that their stay in the wilderness would be stretched out to forty years. Their self-willed effort to dodge this and push their way in at once was completely driven back. And the next thing is the issuing of regulations to take effect "when you come into the land of your dwellings, which I give to you." In speaking this way, God made it plain that His purpose about them stood firm despite all that they had done, and that He would bring them in at last. The Lord then spoke particularly of certain secondary offerings that were to go with the major offerings.
No one could bring the flour and oil by itself. It had to go with a sacrifice, and each offering gave what the other did not.
The grain offering was never offered alone, but always along with a blood offering. The burnt offering would mean the offerer recognised that God is glorified by the work of the Lord Jesus in sacrificing Himself at Calvary. But we may value His sacrifice while not valuing the perfection of His person. The grain offering therefore reminds us of this. In every detail of His life on earth, the Lord Jesus expressed the perfection of human righteousness.
The link runs the other way too.
We read in Numbers 15:4, 6, 9 that offerings by fire had to be accompanied by grain offerings. This fact shows that Christ's sacrifice would not have been possible without His perfect life on earth. The two belonged together.
God chose both ingredients for what they are like.
Now nothing is softer and more even and less gritty than fine flour. So it is a most fitting picture of the smooth and flawless perfection of the earthly life of "the man Christ Jesus." Also the oil here, as elsewhere, pictures the Holy Spirit of God, in whose power the Lord Jesus went out on His unmatched path of service.
One writer explains what this offering pictures, and why it made no atonement.
This offering is the picture of Christ in His perfect humanity and holy, devoted character. It was not for atonement, just as the holy humanity of Christ and the devotedness of His life could not atone for sins. It is called "most holy," for in His humanity He was "that holy thing." The oil was connected in a twofold way with this offering. The fine flour was mingled with oil. This pictures the incarnation, His conception by the Holy Spirit, His whole being filled with the Spirit. It is a wonderful illustration of Luke 1:35.
The quantity is not arbitrary.
The usual measure was the ephah, one tenth of which was an omer, the food of one man (Ex. 16:16, 36). In the grain offering, the fine flour that went with the burnt offering was in proportion to the size and importance of the animal. So for a lamb, the offerer gave one tenth measure, that is one omer. For a ram, two tenths, or one fifth. For a bull, three tenths, "three measures of fine flour," which speak of the fulness of Christ.
The scale carries a lesson for the worshipper.
The different amounts that went with the different offerings teach us something. The larger our understanding of the sacrifice of Christ, the greater our thankful response should be.
This sharing rested on something the natural heart cannot value.
Notice, the fellowship was not founded on something the natural man could appreciate. To his selfish heart it would be mere kindness. It was founded on the recognition that these perfections were in the blessed Man who said, "I always do the things that are pleasing to Him." The Lord had His handful from the grain offering. Those who ate the rest in priestly nearness were in fellowship with the deep and spiritual perfections of Christ pictured in the fine flour mingled with oil.
- Grace first. God gave this command to people under discipline, and framed it as instruction for the land He still meant to give them.
- Grace joined. The flour and oil never came alone; God required a blood sacrifice with them, and the two offerings belonged together.
- Grace pictured. Fine flour has no grit or unevenness. The oil mixed through it points to the Holy Spirit, there from the very beginning of that life.
- Grace measured. A tenth for a lamb, two tenths for a ram, three for a bull — the gift grows with the sacrifice it accompanies.
- Grace shared. God took His handful and worshippers ate the rest, so the same perfections that pleased Him became their food.
and of wine for a drink-offering shalt thou offer the fourth part of a hin with the burnt-offering, or with the sacrifice, for one lamb.
Israel had just refused to enter Canaan. Yet God speaks here about the offerings they will bring "when you come into the land," and verse 5 fixes the detail: a set measure of wine poured out with every lamb.
Notice where this law falls. God answers Israel's refusal by telling them what to do in the land.
Here God refers to their possession of the land, at a time when they have just refused it and been turned back from it. That is a plain encouragement to faith, and an assurance of the unfailing grace of God toward the people. How comforting is this quiet assurance that they would come into the land after all! And they would come with full hearts — hearts that would need to express themselves to God in the free gifts and offerings mentioned here. When they wanted to bring such an offering, God Himself prescribed how it was to be done. For sadly, in our best moods and highest purposes we blunder badly, and we need His thoughts to control and shape us, here as everywhere.
The lamb, the flour and the wine each stand for something different.
In the burnt offering the offerer recognizes that God is glorified by the work of the Lord Jesus in sacrificing Himself on Calvary. But we may appreciate His sacrifice and still not value the perfection of His person. So the grain offering reminds us of more. In every detail of His life on earth, the Lord Jesus expressed the perfection of human righteousness. Then the drink offering of wine stands for the joy of the offerer in the offering — the believer's joy in the Lord Jesus Himself and in the value of His work.
Why wine, and not blood?
Wine is a symbol of joy both to God and to man, and this characterises the drink offering. It does not speak directly of Christ's death. If it did, the offering would be made of blood — the blood poured out in the animal sacrifices, or burned up as a picture of the judgment of God. There is no such command. In fact God condemned the practice of offering blood as a drink offering. The drink offering speaks instead of God's joy at the work of Christ finished at Calvary.
Not every sacrifice carried a drink offering.
Under the law no one was to bring drink offerings on their own. They went with the sweet-aroma offerings, above all with the burnt offering and the grain offering that came with it. They never went with the sin or trespass offerings. There could be no joy for God in Christ's sufferings when He was made sin upon the cross… But there is always joy for God in the total obedience of Christ, even to death, in fulfilling the will of God… This again shows that the drink offering speaks of God's joy when His work is complete and His people fully possess their blessings.
The wine is always "with the burnt offering." That sets a condition on the worshipper.
God never commanded a drink offering apart from the sacrifice… A whole Christ, as it were, must be before the worshipper before a drink offering would be in place. When that was before the eye and the heart, no one was to hold the drink offering back. The wine that cheers God and man could then be poured out. It was a sign that in the Lord Jesus Christ, who lived and died, there was something that gave joy to God — joy that those who offered it could share.
The rule reached every animal brought, and the amount was never random.
After the children of Israel had entered their land, whenever anyone, Israelite or not, brought a burnt offering of the herd or of the flock, a sacrifice in keeping a vow, or a free-will offering… a grain offering and a drink offering were to go with every animal offered up… The measure of wine varied with the size and character of the animal. But it always matched the amount of oil set for the grain offering that went with it… If the wine expressed the joy to be found in the Lord Jesus Christ in His life and in His death, then the measure of joy drawn from it matched the measure of the Holy Spirit within Him — which the oil in the grain offering pictured.
A lamb took a quarter of a hin; larger animals took more.
The different amounts that went with the different offerings teach us something. The larger our understanding of the sacrifice of Christ, the greater our thankful response should be.
- Grace first. God gave this law to people who had just refused the land — a quiet promise that they would still enter it.
- Joy, not judgment. Wine stands for joy — never blood, and never with the sin or trespass offering, since there is no joy in Christ being made sin.
- Joy needs a whole Christ. No one pours the wine out alone. The sacrifice and the grain offering — His death and His life — come first.
- Joy has a measure. The wine always matched the oil, so the joy corresponds to the Spirit.
- Joy grows with sight. Larger offering, larger measure. The more of Christ's sacrifice you grasp, the fuller your response.