And Jehovah spoke to Moses and to Aaron, saying,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
This is the statute of the law which Jehovah hath commanded, saying, Speak unto the children of Israel, that they bring thee a red heifer without blemish, wherein is no defect, and upon which never came yoke;
Israel must find one animal: red, flawless, and never once under a yoke. The whole chapter rests on those three marks, and commentators read them as a portrait of Christ for a people still on the road.
Leviticus lays out the sacrifices in detail, yet the red heifer appears only here. Writers take that placement as deliberate.
A thoughtful student of Scripture would want to ask why we get this type in Numbers and not in Leviticus... The red heifer is, above all, a wilderness type. It was God's provision for defilements along the way. It pictures the death of Christ as a purification for sin, to meet our need as we pass through a defiling world, on our way home to our eternal rest above.
Older translations read this line "without spot, wherein is no blemish," and the writers below quote that older wording. One writer pulls the two words apart. "Spot" enters the sacrifices here for the first time.
We have often noticed the Scriptures "without blemish," Exodus 12:5; "without spot," Numbers 19:2. Not until we reach the book of Numbers is the thought of "spot" raised in relation to a sacrifice. Without blemish would suggest without a defect. Without spot would mean without a stain. That is what comes to light in Numbers 19, in relation to the red heifer. We have wilderness conditions in that chapter, and the only Man who passed through this world without the stain of sin is Christ.
The pressures that surrounded Him are named one by one, and none of them left a mark:
The temptation of Satan, with its offer of "all the kingdoms of the world and their glory," completely failed to move His thoughts or His steps. The envy and scorn of the Pharisees, the mocking materialism of the Sadducees, the unbelief of His brothers, and the brief flattery of those who would make Him a king — none of it turned Him aside from His steady path of unswerving devotion to the will of God… and there, at Calvary, "He offered Himself without spot to God" (Hebrews 9:14).
One writer explains this third mark from what a yoke does to a farm animal.
A yoke is put on an animal to restrain the wild nature, to bring it into subjection. Our blessed Lord needed no yoke, for He came willingly. "Behold, I have come to do Your will."
This reaches back past His conduct to His birth. It also explains the one yoke He did call His own.
In the red heifer we are taught that our blessed Saviour, in His human nature, was in Himself pure and spotless. More than that: as to His birth and relationships He stood perfectly clear of every mark and trace of sin. No yoke of sin ever came upon His sacred neck. When He speaks of "my yoke" (Matt. 11:29), it was the yoke of complete subjection to the Father's will in all things. This was the only yoke He ever wore.
This is the only sacrifice whose colour God names. The animal is also female. Commentators read both details as pointing to the way Christ obeyed.
The victim here is a female… It is passivity, subjection, will-lessness. We may see it in the Lord in Gethsemane, whose "cup" He in fact drank afterwards on the cross. It is a red heifer, as the ram-skins of the tabernacle were dyed red, to show how far this will-less obedience in Him went… At the very time He was saying, "not My will, but Yours, be done," He might have had twelve legions of angels and gone to the Father, but would not.
One writer takes the colour straight to His death:
Nowhere else is the colour of a sacrificial animal mentioned. Red is the colour of blood. It is the type of His obedience to death.
This provision deals with the dirt of the road, not with guilt already settled.
The very fact that we are cleansed perfectly before God is a loud call to us not to tolerate a stain before men. God gave this remarkable provision to guard His people from being soiled along the way… The requirement assumes the absence of the blemishes that every sacrifice needed. But here the animal must also never have known the yoke, that is, the pressure of sin.
- Where — Numbers is the book of the journey. The heifer meets the dirt picked up on the road, not the guilt already settled.
- Who — The animal pictures Christ: no defect at His birth, no stain on His path, no yoke of sin ever.
- How — The one yoke He ever wore was full subjection to His Father's will. He took it up freely.
- How far — The female victim and the red colour speak of a will-less will, seen in Gethsemane and carried all the way to death.
- Why it matters — God has cleansed you completely. That is the strongest reason never to live with a stain before people.
and ye shall give it to Eleazar the priest, and he shall bring it outside the camp, and one shall slaughter it before him.
This command sends the sacrifice outside the camp. Eleazar takes the heifer out, and someone else kills it in front of him. Three details carry the weight. Why Eleazar and not Aaron? Why does the priest not kill it? And why outside the camp?
The verse names Aaron's son, not the high priest himself. One explanation looks to the law about priests and the dead:
They brought the heifer to Eleazar, not to Aaron. The high priest could not make himself unclean for the dead. Other priests could do so for a member of their own family (Lev. 21:2, 11). So Eleazar acts as priest here, and he stays with the heifer outside the camp.
Commentators differ here. Another writer rejects that reason. He points instead to the priesthood that Eleazar pictures:
Here we have before us the resources of a priesthood in resurrection, which Eleazar directly pictures, though care is also taken to tie it to Aaron's priesthood. So Eleazar appears all through. That is certainly not because the high priest had to keep away from the uncleanness of death. Here, as everywhere, the spiritual meaning must govern. The reason can only be found in the character of the priesthood itself, which is stressed here.
The verse is careful with words. Someone else kills the heifer in front of Eleazar; the priest does not do it.
We have, in the priest and the victim, a joint type of the Person of Christ. He was at once the Victim and the Priest. But He did not begin His priestly work until He had finished His work as the victim. This explains the words at the end of the third verse, "slaughtered before him." The death of Christ took place on earth. So it could not stand for an act of priesthood. Heaven, not earth, is the sphere of His priestly service.
Yet Eleazar is not a bystander. He brings the animal out to the place of slaughter and stands there while it dies.
Eleazar brings the victim outside the camp to the place of slaughter. The heifer is killed in front of him. From this we learn that the priest is closely tied to all that happens, for in the fulfilment the victim and the priest are one. By bringing the heifer outside the camp, Eleazar takes the part of the offerer. This reminds us of the Scripture already quoted: "who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God" (Heb. 9:14).
The other great sacrifices died at the door of the tent of meeting. This one dies outside, yet it is still tied to them.
The great sacrifices described in Leviticus 1–7 were all killed at the door of the tent of meeting. This one is killed outside the camp. That shows that what we are looking at flows from the atoning death of Christ and depends on it. At the same time, the blood of the red heifer is sprinkled seven times before the door of the tent of meeting. That ties it in some measure to the great offerings of Leviticus 1–7. We can tell one offering from another, but we cannot separate them, because in the fulfilment we have the one great sacrifice of our Lord on the cross.
Jesus died outside the camp, and Scripture calls us to join Him there. One writer marks what we do and do not share.
So we come to the practical call, "Therefore let us go to Him outside the camp." But note carefully what this outside place now means. It is no longer the place of judgment from God. It is the place of reproach from man. He suffered as the holy victim under the judgment of God; He endured as the patient martyr under the reproach of men. We cannot share His sufferings at the hand of God, but it is our privilege to share the insults He received from the hands of men. He went outside the camp to bear our judgment; we go outside the camp to bear His reproach.
That call is not an idea to admire from a distance:
Shall we see Him die outside, while we reap the benefits of His death and remain within? Shall we seek a home, and a place, and a name, and a portion, in that world from which our Lord and Master is an outcast?
- Handed over — the heifer goes to Eleazar, not to Aaron. Writers differ on why. Some point to the law that kept the high priest from the dead. Others point to the priesthood Eleazar pictures.
- Held, not killed — Eleazar only watches the heifer die. Christ's death was not an act of priesthood. Heaven is where He serves as priest.
- Yet one with Him — the priest brings the victim out, so he is tied to all that happens. In the fulfilment, priest and victim are one Person.
- Outside, not at the door — the offerings of Leviticus died at the door; this one dies outside the camp. Neither can be cut off from the one sacrifice of the cross.
- Out to Him — He went outside to bear our judgment. Those who enjoy the good of His death are called outside to bear His reproach.
And Eleazar the priest shall take of its blood with his finger, and shall sprinkle of its blood directly before the tent of meeting seven times.
Numbers 19 deals with a defiled person who needs restoring. Verse 4 holds the puzzle at the centre of the chapter: the heifer dies outside the camp, yet the priest carries its blood back and sprinkles it seven times toward the tent where the people met God.
The heifer goes to a priest, but not to the chief priest. One writer explains why, from the law for priests:
The heifer was brought to Eleazar, not to Aaron. The high priest could not defile himself for the dead, though the priests could for those of their own family (Lev. 21:2, 11). Eleazar therefore officiates here, and is found with the heifer outside the camp. Someone other than the priest killed it. Then the priestly work of sprinkling the blood began. After that the whole animal — its flesh, blood, skin, and dung — was set on fire before his eyes.
Still, the arrangement does not lower the rank of the service. The instructions come to Moses and Aaron, and Eleazar acts on Aaron's behalf:
Moses and Aaron give the heifer to Eleazar; he represented Aaron, but Aaron received the command, to give it its true and full character.
One writer sets this sacrifice beside the great offerings of Leviticus:
The great sacrifices set out in Leviticus 1–7 were all killed at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, but here the heifer is killed outside the camp. This shows that what we are considering flows from the atoning death of Christ and rests on it. Yet at the same time the blood of the red heifer is sprinkled seven times before the door of the tabernacle of the congregation. That identifies it in some measure with the great offerings of Leviticus 1–7. We can distinguish between one offering and another, but we cannot divorce one from the other. In the fulfilment we have the one grand sacrifice of our Lord on the cross.
The number is not decorative. It marks the completeness of what God sees in the blood:
The number "seven" in Scripture is a symbol of divine perfectness. So the blood was sprinkled seven times before the tabernacle — that is, before the eye of God. This is a beautiful picture of that precious blood of the Lord Jesus. And note: it is God who calls it precious, He who alone knows its value.
The priest sprinkles the blood once, and nothing in the ritual repeats it. Writers press this point hard:
First came the sacrifice. Here the blood sprinkled before God was the foundation of all the rest, and it was a complete thing, never renewed. It was sprinkled seven times before the tabernacle. Whatever the circumstances, the sprinkling was never renewed. To have imagined such a thing would be to endanger the foundation... Wherever there is the thought of a fresh sprinkling of the blood, a person is on Jewish and not on Christian ground. It is not only that His sacrifice was made once; we are also perfected forever through that one offering. It is a thing done once for all.
One writer traces what this settled blood meant for a defiled Israelite:
Here the blood was where the people met God. The effect of the great day of atonement is assumed, and the individual is restored. Where he meets God, the perfect and lasting power of the blood is always there. Nothing was charged against him; the ashes proved that all that had been settled long ago. But the man could not come to the tabernacle, though the blood was there. His communion and worship were interrupted.
Why the front of the tent rather than the altar? One writer answers, marking off justification — being put right with God — from communion with Him:
Here the subject is not justification, but communion. It was sprinkled seven times, not around the altar, but before the tabernacle, to represent where we meet God, and to show the ground of communion perfectly established.
The choice of that spot says something about who the rite was for:
They were to kill the heifer, and sprinkle its blood seven times directly before the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, because, I suppose, all the people were concerned in it. When Moses went in, it was to God inside, but the people would be gathered at the door.
- Once — the priest sprinkled a full number of times and never sprinkled again. Treat it as repeatable and you endanger the foundation.
- Outside — the heifer died beyond the camp, yet its blood pointed back to the tent. It cannot be separated from the one great sacrifice it pictures.
- Before God — the seven sprinklings faced God's dwelling. He alone knows the worth of the blood.
- For all — the blood went to the door where the people gathered, so it concerned the whole congregation.
- For communion — the blood marked the meeting place, not the altar. The concern here is fellowship, not a new standing before God.
And one shall burn the heifer before his eyes; its skin and its flesh, and its blood, with its dung, shall he burn.
Outside the camp the heifer lies dead, and now the fire takes everything: hide, meat, blood, even the waste. Why must the whole animal go, and why does a priest stand watching it burn?
One writer ties the completeness of the fire to the smallest sins we treat lightly:
Here we get another view of the cross of Jesus, that meeting place between God and the sinner. We learn here that Christ was entirely consumed by the fire of the judgment of God because of sin. The cry of His soul at that moment was, "I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast." Even our frivolous thoughts, and the sins we treat so lightly, wretched creatures that we are — for these He was consumed to ashes, draining the cup of wrath for His people!
In other offerings the inner parts were burned on the altar. Here they were not:
Like the sin-offering, whose blood was brought inside the sanctuary, the heifer was burned outside the camp. But there the inner parts were burned on the altar, while here they were consumed with the rest of the heifer. What had to be shown here was not an act of sin, done even in ignorance, set against the perfect obedience of the Lord. It was the terrible nature of sin, so contrary to the nature of God.
Another writer looks at what was left when the fire died down:
The heifer was then consumed. Ashes were all that remained: the undeniable proof that our sins could never be charged to us again. They had been charged once, to Christ; He was consumed by the judgment which fell on Him, and blood could not blot out again what blood had already wiped away. Every part of this sacrifice was burned outside the camp. The very blood was burned there too.
Eleazar did not kill the heifer himself. He stood and watched:
Eleazar the priest was to bring the heifer outside the camp, and it was to be slaughtered "before his face," but not by himself. Christ's priestly work did not properly begin until He took His place on high, after His sacrificial work was finished. As it is written, "Now if he were on earth, he would not be a priest at all" (Heb. 8:4). Still, Eleazar brings the victim outside the camp to the place of slaughter. It was slaughtered in front of him, and from this we learn that the priest is closely bound up with everything that happens. In the reality behind the picture, the victim and the priest are one.
The verse names the animal down to its waste. One writer reads the total burning as reaching past our wrong acts:
This is not merely the blood shed; the whole animal is taken outside the camp and entirely consumed. It is burned to ashes. What does that mean for us? It is a picture of how completely all our sins were borne and put away forever at the cross. And it is important to see this: Scripture does not only say that He bore our sins, but that "for our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin" (2 Cor. 5:21). So God judged sin in the flesh — our condition by nature as children of Adam, not merely our sins — when His beloved Son was made sin for us on the cross.
One writer separates the blood from the ashes and gives each its work:
We have looked at the blood; let us now look at the ashes. In the blood we have the sacrificial death of Christ as the only purification for sin. In the ashes we have the remembrance of that death. The Spirit applies it to the heart, through the word, to remove any defilement picked up in our walk from day to day. This gives great completeness and beauty to this most interesting type. God has not only made provision for past sins, but also for present defilement.
- Everything. Skin, flesh, blood and waste all went into the fire — a consuming judgment that left no part of the victim untouched.
- Even blood. Unlike other offerings, the blood was burned with the body, showing not one wrong act but the terrible nature of sin itself.
- Deeper. The fire reached past what we have done to what we are by nature as children of Adam.
- Watched. The priest did not kill the victim; he stood and watched it die, and in the reality behind the picture the victim and the priest are one.
- Ashes. What was left proved that sins already judged can never be charged again — and the remembrance of that death still clears the defilement of each day's walk.
And the priest shall take cedar-wood, and hyssop, and scarlet, and cast them into the midst of the burning of the heifer.
Numbers 19 gives the law of the red heifer, a sacrifice burned to ashes outside the camp to cleanse anyone defiled on the journey. Verse 6 adds three more things to that fire — cedar wood, hyssop and scarlet — and commentators ask what they mean and why they burn.
Writers read cedar and hyssop as the two ends of a scale. The pairing comes from Solomon's list of plants.
Think of cedar wood and hyssop. You may remember 1 Kings 4:33, where Solomon "spoke of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon to the hyssop that grows out of the wall." That is, I suppose, from the greatest thing in the plant kingdom to the smallest, with everything else in between. So cedar wood and hyssop would picture all that belongs to us as children of Adam, everything we glory and boast in as natural men.
The two extremes take in everyone between them.
Cedar is the most stately and exalted of the trees and hyssop the lowliest shrub. So whether a person is proud and exalted or lowly and despised, the flesh is the same in all mankind. Great or small, we all need the same sacrifice.
The third item is a colour, and writers read it by where else it appears in Scripture.
Scarlet, which King Saul put on the daughters of Israel, speaks to us of the glory of the world. In mockery, the governor's soldiers clothed the Lord Jesus with a scarlet robe.
One writer adds that scarlet had to be made.
Scarlet, the national colour, suggests the pride of man, and possibly everything artificial. It was, after all, a dye made by a process.
The same writer sets the word for this burning beside the word used at the altar.
The word "burn" in verse 5 is not the one used for the altar, with its sweet aroma. It carries the thought of destroying entirely, consuming.
The fire does not improve the three items. It makes them vanish.
Whether it is lofty and great, or low and useless, it all has to go in the burning of the heifer.
Commentators tie this fire to Paul's boast in the cross, and to the blood put on these same three things when a leper was cleansed.
So we learn from this burning that all the things of this world have gone from before God's eye in the judgment of the cross. That takes in what men value greatly and what counts for little, and all the glory of the world with it. Paul had the truth of the burning of the red heifer in his soul when he wrote, "far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world" (Gal. 6:14). … Are we attracted by the world and its glory, or do we see it all as reduced to ashes in the death of Christ? The blood on the cedar, hyssop and scarlet, when the leper was cleansed, teaches us that the world and everything connected with it is stained with the blood of Him they crucified and killed.
Commentators differ on what the three items picture. Most read them as man and his world going into judgment. One reads them as qualities of the sacrifice itself: the priest cast in scarlet, cedar wood and hyssop "because they set forth the royalty, incorruptibility, and lowliness of Jesus" (H H Snell).
The fire left ashes, and Israel kept them for later use. Mackintosh explains what removes the defilement a believer picks up along the way.
It is not a fresh sprinkling of the blood of Christ — a thing unknown in Scripture. It is the remembrance of His death brought home, in fresh power, to the repentant heart, by the ministry of the Holy Spirit. … God's purpose is that His children should be purified from all iniquity. He wants them to walk in separation from this present evil world, where all is death and defilement. The word acting on the heart brings this separation about, by the power of the Holy Spirit.
He adds that forgiveness is not the whole of what the cross gives.
Many seem quite satisfied to know that their sins are forgiven through the atoning work of Christ. At the same time they fail to realise deadness to the world through the death of Christ, and their identification with Him in it.
- Cedar — the tallest tree, standing for everything lofty and noble in man; it goes into the fire.
- Hyssop — the smallest shrub, the other end of the scale; it goes into the same fire. Great and small need one sacrifice.
- Scarlet — the glory and pride of the world, a colour man makes; the fire takes it too.
- Ashes — what the fire leaves of all three, kept for later; the Spirit brings that death home to a heart defiled along the way.
- Result — not only sins forgiven but the world crucified to the believer, and the believer to the world.
And the priest shall wash his garments, and he shall bathe his flesh in water, and afterwards he shall come into the camp; and the priest shall be unclean until the even;
The red heifer has just been burned outside the camp, and its ashes will be kept to cleanse others. Now comes the surprise: the priest who carried out God's own command walks away unclean, shut out of the camp until he has washed.
The priest was not singled out.
Once the red heifer was burned in this way, its ashes were kept in a clean place. This stresses the holiness of God. The priest supervised the burning. Another man did the actual burning. A third gathered up the ashes. All of them had to wash their clothes and be unclean till evening. In this way God would impress His holiness on everyone who had anything to do with Him through sacrifice.
Notice who is told to wash. Eleazar served at the tabernacle, as near to God as a man could be.
Eleazar's normal service was in the tabernacle. He brought the heifer outside the camp to be killed and burned. After he was cleansed, he was to come into the camp. God's holiness demands that those nearest to Him take the greatest care to keep pure. The camp of Israel could not tolerate the slightest defilement on a priest. The more deeply we are engaged in the work of restoring others, the more we need to feel the cleansing and refreshing influence of the word of God in our own souls.
The priest did nothing wrong. The defilement came from obeying, not from failing.
The sacrifice was holy, or it could not have been a sacrifice fit for His acceptance. The ashes were clean, and they were to be kept in a clean place. Both the heifer and the ashes spoke of One in whom is no sin: the heifer, of Him who offered up Himself; the ashes, of the fiery judgment of God that He endured. But because sin was involved, God would mark by the words "outside the camp" what sin really is in the eyes of the High and Holy One. Those who prepared the ashes had to acknowledge this themselves. They were ceremonially clean when they began their work, and ceremonially unclean when they had done it right.
The chapter does not treat every helper the same way.
Everyone engaged in this work of purification needed cleansing. We cannot have to do with sin in any way without feeling how it defiles the spirit. Even those who were least engaged had to wash their clothes and were unclean until the evening. That was true of the man who gathered the ashes and the man who sprinkled the ashes (verses 10, 21)... The priest and the man who burned the heifer were involved most deeply in preparing the water of separation. So they had to wash their clothes and bathe their bodies in water as well.
Commentators read this verse as a warning for anyone who sets out to put someone else right.
Those who set others right need to be spiritual themselves, watchful, and ready to judge themselves. They also need a spirit of meekness and fear, in case they become defiled. So we do well to heed the apostle's instruction: "Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted." (Gal. 6:1.)
Another writer explains why the priest of all people came away unclean.
Even a priest, when he made the offering of the red heifer, was affected in some measure by his identification with the defilement he was making the offering for. This is a strong warning to us. Even when we deal with defilement in a right way, we are bound to be affected for the worse. If we wrestled with a coal miner just out of the mine, we would get just as dirty as if we had hugged him. So, in judging sin in others we face the stern necessity of judging ourselves.
Every human hand in the chapter comes away soiled.
If anyone had anything to do with the heifer, that person became unclean. The priest and the man who burnt it were unclean... All this was to mark God's exactness, this deep feeling about anything that had to do with our defilement. In Christ, where this deep feeling is found, there is of course no uncleanness at all, but the very opposite. Christ was the only one who could touch the leper without being defiled.
- Touch — The heifer defiled everyone who handled it: the priest, the burner, the ash-gatherer, and later the sprinkler. Contact with sin leaves a mark, even when you handle it for God.
- Degree — The nearer you stood to the work, the deeper the cleansing. All washed their clothes. The priest and the man who burned the heifer also bathed.
- Duty — The priest was not punished for disobedience. He was clean when he started and unclean when he had done the job right.
- Caution — So anyone restoring a fallen person must first watch himself. Judging sin in others forces us to judge ourselves.
- Exception — Only Christ touched uncleanness without catching it. The ashes speak of the fiery judgment of God that He endured.
and he that hath burned it shall wash his garments in water, and bathe his flesh in water, and shall be unclean until the even.
Israel burned the red heifer outside the camp, and its ashes made the water that cleansed defilement. The man who did the burning obeyed God — and came away unclean himself.
Verse 7 says the same of the priest who made the offering. One writer draws out the lesson with a homely picture.
Even the priest who offered the red heifer was in some measure affected, because he identified himself with the defilement he was offering for. He had to wash his clothes, and he was still unclean until the evening (v.7). Also, the one who burned the animal was affected in the same way (v.8). This is a strong warning to us. Even when we deal rightly with defilement, it is bound to affect us for the worse. If we wrestled with a coal miner just out of the mine we would become just as dirty as if we embraced him. So in judging sin in others we face the stern necessity of judging ourselves.
The chapter does not ask the same washing from everyone. Some only wash their clothes.
Everyone who shared in this work of purification needed cleansing. We cannot have to do with sin in any way without feeling how it defiles our spirit. Even those with the smallest part had to wash their clothes and were unclean until the evening — the man who gathered the ashes, and the man who sprinkled them (verses 10, 21). We must be free from every trace of contact with sin, even in others. Only then can we have communion with God or serve in His holy things. The priest and the man who burned the heifer had the largest part in preparing the water of separation. So they had to wash their clothes and bathe their bodies in water as well.
The place chosen for this work carries its own message. So does the state the workers ended in.
To mark what sin is in God's sight, they killed the heifer outside the camp, and they kept the ashes outside the camp. The sacrifice was holy; otherwise it could not have been a sacrifice fit for His acceptance. The ashes were clean, and they had to be kept in a clean place. Both the heifer and the ashes spoke of One in whom there is no sin: the heifer, of Him who offered up Himself; the ashes, of the fiery judgment of God He has endured. Yet because the work touched sin, those who prepared the ashes had to own for themselves what sin is in the eyes of the High and Holy One. They were ceremonially clean when they began their work, and ceremonially unclean when they had finished it properly.
This washing was not new. One writer sets it beside the day of atonement.
On the day of atonement, the man who burned the sin offering and the man who led the goat away had to wash their clothes, bathe themselves, and then return to the camp. The priest who sprinkled the blood of the red heifer and the man who burned her body had to do the same. But unlike the rules for the day of atonement, everyone concerned with preparing the ashes was unclean until the evening.
Run through the chapter and nearly everyone who comes near the heifer catches uncleanness. One thing never does.
Everyone in the chapter who had to do with the ashes was defiled. The priest who carried out the ceremony was unclean. So was the person who burned the heifer, the man who gathered the ashes, and the one who sprinkled the water of separation or touched the ashes. Even whatever that man touched afterwards was unclean. There was only one thing that could not be defiled, and that was the "ashes of the heifer." Yes, reader, what a lesson is here. No one can have to do with sin, even in another, and remain undefiled, but God alone! When He touches sin, He withers it. When man touches it, he either sympathizes with it or is defiled.
One writer turns this on anyone who sets out to put a failing believer right.
Nothing shows more clearly how serious it is to have to do with evil in others. Those who set others right need to be spiritual themselves, watchful, self-judging, and in a spirit of gentleness and fear, in case they become defiled. It is hard to have to do with uncleanness in anyone without becoming defiled ourselves. So we do well to heed the apostle's instruction on this subject: "Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted." (Gal. 6:1.)
- Contact defiles. The man burning the heifer obeyed God and still ended the day unclean. Handling sin marks the one who handles it.
- Contact measured. The washing matched the closeness. Those least involved washed their clothes. The priest and the burner also bathed their bodies.
- Contact bounded. Every rite happened outside the camp, to mark what sin is in God's sight. The uncleanness itself ran only until evening.
- Contact-proof. Only the ashes could not be defiled. God alone can touch sin and not be stained.
- Contact a warning. Restore a failing believer gently. Watch yourself while you do it, because no one handles another's sin untouched.
And a clean man shall gather the ashes of the heifer, and deposit them outside the camp in a clean place, and it shall be kept for the assembly of the children of Israel for a water of separation it is a purification for sin.
A red heifer has just been burned outside Israel's camp, and a clean man now gathers its ashes and stores them in a clean place. Mixed later with running water, those ashes became the nation's standing remedy for defilement picked up on the road.
Leviticus sets out the sacrifices in their broad meaning. This offering meets a problem that arises on the road:
In Numbers 19 we have a special case of a sin offering. Leviticus and Numbers differ here. Leviticus gives us the sacrifices in their great distinguishing characters. Numbers gives us how they apply in the trials of a walk of faith. It meets the case of people falling into evil, or picking up defilement... This shows the power of the sin offering, as the Spirit brings it to the conscience. It is not a fresh sacrifice. There is no shedding of blood. Only the ashes are sprinkled.
The stored ashes are the last trace of the animal.
The ashes of the heifer bring back to your memory, plainly and surely, what has taken place. They are all that is left of that wonderful victim. Nothing is left but the ashes. The fire of judgment consumed everything else. By these ashes, as a picture, the Spirit of God brings to the memory of the soul, in certain circumstances, what it cost Christ to make us clean. Without that, we will not know, after failure, what purification really is.
The word "kept" carries weight in this verse.
The ordinance of the red heifer stands alone. Other sacrifices come before us again and again, but Scripture records this one nowhere else in Israel's history. There is no account of anyone repeating it. The ashes of the burnt heifer were kept, or should have been kept, all along the journey. It all pictured the sacrifice of Christ, offered once and never to be repeated. His sacrifice never loses its power, so there was no need to repeat it. It perfected for ever.
What survives the fire is also evidence about guilt itself:
Ashes were all that remained: unanswerable proof that our sins could never be charged to us again. They had been charged once — to Christ. The judgment that fell on Him consumed Him, and blood could not blot out again what blood had already wiped out.
Three things stand together here: the ashes go outside the camp, the place chosen for them must be clean, and the men who handle them do not stay clean.
So here, to mark what sin is in God's sight, they killed the heifer outside the camp, and outside the camp they kept the ashes. The sacrifice was holy, or it could not have been a sacrifice fit for His acceptance. The ashes were clean, and they were to be kept in a clean place. Both the heifer and the ashes spoke of One in whom is no sin: the heifer, of Him who offered up Himself; the ashes, of the fiery judgment of God He has endured... Those who prepared the ashes had to acknowledge what sin is. They were ceremonially clean when they began their work, and ceremonially unclean when they had properly finished it.
This purification does not create the bond between God and the Israelite. It repairs something else.
In what sense? With a view to communion, and nothing else — restoring it when broken. It is not a question at all of establishing the relationship; that was already done. On the ground of the relationship that already exists, the Israelite must allow nothing along the way that would spoil the holiness that suits the sanctuary of Jehovah.
The ashes were never sprinkled dry. The ESV calls the mixture "the water for impurity"; older translations call it "the water of separation." Each part of it pictures something.
From the ashes of a red heifer they were to make "a water of separation," and they were to sprinkle that water on people and things that were defiled. The "water of separation" that purified was made from "the ashes of the burnt heifer" — a picture of the death of Christ — and "running [or, living] water" — a picture of the Spirit.
The name given to this mixture points to what it is for. And the defilement it deals with is not always deliberate.
It shows, too, that a believer does not always pick up defilement by his own act. He may come into contact with defilement, even without knowing it, and so he is defiled and needs the "water of purification." Someone may have to judge a sin in the assembly, and his mind is defiled as he listens to the sordid story, so a purification is needed. The text calls the ashes mixed with running water "a water of separation." How necessary separation from evil is! And how necessary it is to be kept in the happy enjoyment of communion with God.
- Cost. The ashes are all that survived the fire — the reminder of what it cost Christ to make us clean.
- Kept. The offering was never repeated. One sacrifice lasted the whole journey, because its value never runs out.
- Proof. The judgment already fell on Christ, so sin can never be charged to us again. Ashes, not fresh blood, are the remedy.
- Applied. Ashes mixed with running water picture the death of Christ brought home by the Spirit. They meet defilement picked up on the road, even without our knowing.
- Communion. The aim is not to start the relationship but to restore fellowship inside it, and to keep the traveller clear of evil.
And he that hath gathered the ashes of the heifer shall wash his clothes, and be unclean until the even. And it shall be unto the children of Israel, and unto the stranger that sojourneth among them, an everlasting statute.
This verse ends the list of men who worked at the red heifer ritual. The last of them only gathered up the ashes, yet he too must wash his clothes and stay unclean until evening. Two questions follow. Why does a work of cleansing leave the worker unclean? And why does God fix this as a lasting rule for Israelite and foreigner alike?
This ordinance is not among the offerings of Leviticus. It stands in the book of the desert march, and one writer links that placement to the trouble it treats.
So in Numbers we get the red heifer, the provision for the wilderness, which is not among the sacrifices in Leviticus. If you touch death, you need your feet washed. The ashes of the heifer were there to restore communion, when the people had lost it on the way through the wilderness.
The man gathers a heap of ashes, not a fresh victim. That difference is the point.
Here the remedy for defilement is put before us in picture form. It is not in a new sacrifice, nor in the shedding of that blood without which there is no forgiveness. It is in applying what speaks of a sacrifice once for all completed, of wrath exhausted and gone. The ashes alone remain, to testify that the fire consumed the victim completely. Other sacrifices were offered again and again. The red heifer is not like them. Alone among legal ordinances, it stands for the lasting power of what has been offered "once for all."
A clean man gathered the ashes, and the work itself left him unclean. That reversal was no accident.
The sacrifice was holy; otherwise it could not have been a sacrifice fit for His acceptance. The ashes were clean, and they had to be kept in a clean place. Both the heifer and the ashes spoke of One in whom is no sin: the heifer, of Him who offered up Himself; the ashes, of the fiery judgment of God He has endured. But because it was connected with sin in any way, God would mark by the words "outside the camp" what sin really is in the eyes of the High and Holy One. Those who prepared the ashes had to acknowledge it themselves. They began their work ritually clean, and they ended it ritually unclean, though they had done it properly.
The chapter repeats the same requirement for each man who touched the work, and the repetition is the lesson.
The priest who sprinkled the blood, and cast the things into the burning of the heifer, was unclean until the evening... The man who had burnt the heifer had to wash his clothes in water, and bathe his flesh in water... The clean man who gathered up the ashes had also to wash his clothes, and be unclean until the evening (v. 10)... Nothing could show us more sharply how serious it is to deal with evil in others. Those who are busy setting others right need to be spiritual themselves, watchful and ready to judge themselves. They need a spirit of gentleness and fear too, in case they become defiled.
"A perpetual statute" means the ashes were meant to last as long as the journey did.
The ordinance of the red heifer stands alone. Scripture brings other sacrifices before us again and again. No other part of Israel's history records this one, and no account says it was ever repeated. The ashes of the burnt heifer were kept, or should have been kept, all along the journey. All of it was meant to point forward to the sacrifice of Christ, offered once and never repeated.
The statute binds "the people of Israel" as a whole, not one special class of men:
The ordinance of the red heifer was not limited to the priests or the Levites; it was for the congregation... The red heifer is a provision for believers, so that they may be cleansed from all defilement along the way. It is no less necessary for the saint than the shed blood is for the sinner.
The verse then reaches wider still, to the foreigner living among them.
- Provision. The red heifer belongs to Numbers, the book of the desert march. It meets defilement picked up on the road, not guilt settled at the start.
- Memorial. He gathers ashes, not a new victim. They prove the judgment is already borne, and they stay ready for the next need.
- Cost. Every hand that touched the work came away unclean. Sin marks even the man who is clearing it away.
- Caution. Even the ash-gatherer had to wash and wait. Anyone who helps to set another right must stay watchful and judge himself, or he will be defiled too.
- Reach. The statute is permanent, and the sacrifice was never repeated. It was given to the whole congregation, and to the foreigner living among them too.