And on the eighth day he shall bring two turtle-doves, or two young pigeons, to the priest, at the entrance of the tent of meeting.
The man had done nothing anyone would call wrong. Yet the touch broke his communion with God, and he could not simply carry on.
Here we find atonement in its two great aspects. It was the only ground on which the Nazarite could come back to communion. He had become defiled, and only the blood of the sacrifice could take that defilement away. We might think it a very small matter to touch a dead body, especially in such a case. Someone might ask, "How could he help touching it when the man had suddenly dropped dead by his side?" To all this the reply is at once simple and solemn. God's Nazarites must keep themselves pure. And the standard for that purity is not human but divine.
One writer sets this case beside the person cleansed from a skin disease, where the uncleanness came from inside the man rather than from an accident outside him.
In the case of the leper it was his leprosy which had made him unclean — the working out of what was within him; in the case of the Nazarite he was defiled by a man dying suddenly near him. This was defilement from outside, and defilement which very probably he could not have guarded himself against; but no plea he could make would have released him from the obligation of coming to the altar of burnt offering with his pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons — the one for a sin offering, the other for a burnt offering — to make atonement for him, "for that he sinned by the dead."
The remedy is not scaled down to match how minor the incident looked.
There was the burnt offering — the type of the death of Christ toward God. There was the sin offering — the type of that same death toward us... In a word, it needed the full virtue of the death of Christ to remove the defilement caused by the simple touch of a dead body. This is especially solemnising. Sin is a dreadful thing in God's sight — most dreadful. A single sinful thought, a sinful look, a sinful word is enough to bring a dark, heavy cloud over the soul.
Why two, and why one of each kind? The pair covers both what the man is and where he now stands.
The sin offering reminds us of what we were in all our sins. The love of God met us in our need, and the Lord Jesus died for us to deal with what we are in ourselves. The burnt offering speaks of our acceptance, not in our own merit, but in the Lord Jesus, who is of infinite worth in the sight of God. Our eyes look to Him, we are occupied with Him, and this is where true strength lies.
Doves and pigeons were the smallest sacrifices the law allowed. What can so small an offering mean?
One might be too poor to bring a bull or sheep or goat, and provision was made that he could bring turtledoves or young pigeons. Our understanding of the greatness of Christ's sacrifice may be poor. Even so, glory is still given to God in simply recognising that Christ is the true Man from heaven who came to sacrifice Himself. The birds speak of His heavenly character.
The choice of bird carries meaning too.
It is the bird of love and sorrow, and so it fittingly pictures the Spirit of Him whose love made Him a man of sorrows in a hostile world.
The day named here matters as much as the offering.
"The eighth day" (v. 10) is the introduction, the first day, of a new week. And so we find the Nazarite starting his separation over again, as it were. If sinners are to be separated to God, it can only be by death — the death of Christ. By His resurrection, He began in power the new creation.
Commentators see the defiled Nazarite as a picture of a believer who slips into sin. God had already made provision for that.
A Nazarite could not deliberately make himself unclean, not even for his nearest and dearest... But the Nazarite might be defiled without intending it, through a man dying "very suddenly by him." This would bring his days of consecration to an end. So it is with a Christian: sin is a possibility, not a necessity. As we read, "My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world" (1 John 2:1-2). There is no provision for wilful sin, but there is a sin offering for a sin of inadvertence.
One writer warns against a misunderstanding:
This burnt offering and sin offering remind us that the work of the Lord Jesus is enough — even in the sad case of a believer's defilement. It is not that we "have to go back to the cross," as some claim, "to be converted all over again." We are saved once for all. But we need to realise that our Lord also died with a case of unintended defilement in view.
- Contact — Even defilement he could not avoid broke the link. The standard of purity is God's, not ours.
- Cost — Nothing less than the full value of Christ's death could clear what a single touch had caused.
- Cleansing — The sin offering deals with what he was. The burnt offering gives him acceptance in Another's worth.
- Cheapness — Two small birds were the lowest offering allowed, yet God accepted them. Even a weak grasp of Christ still gives Him glory.
- Comeback — The eighth day opens a new week, and the man starts his separation over. Separation to God comes only through the death of Christ.
And the priest shall offer one for a sin-offering, and the other for a burnt-offering, and make an atonement for him, for that he sinned by the dead person; and he shall hallow his head that same day.
A Nazarite was someone who had taken a vow of complete separation to God, marked by uncut hair. If a person dropped dead beside him, that separation ended through no fault of his own. Verse 11 gives God's remedy: the priest offers two birds and makes atonement, and the man consecrates his head again that same day.
The chapter describes what happened to this man in three ways. He "defiles his consecrated head" (v. 9), he "sinned by reason of the dead body" (v. 11), and "his separation was defiled" (v. 12). One writer sets these side by side and draws a distinction:
Verses 9 and 12 say that his consecration, or the head of his consecration, has been defiled. Verse 11 puts the emphasis elsewhere: in God's sight, defilement is sin.
Nothing he could say would excuse him:
A man died suddenly near the Nazarite, and that defiled him. This was defilement from outside him, and very probably he could not have guarded himself against it. Still, no plea he could make would have released him from coming to the altar of burnt offering with his pair of turtle doves, or two young pigeons — the one for a sin offering, the other for a burnt offering — to make atonement for him, "because he sinned by reason of the dead body."
The priest offered one bird as a sin offering and the other as a burnt offering. Commentators tie the pair to the death of Christ:
There was the burnt offering — a picture of the death of Christ toward God. There was the sin offering — a picture of that same death toward us... In a word, it took the full power of the death of Christ to remove the defilement caused by one simple touch of a dead body. This is especially solemn. Sin is a dreadful thing in God's sight — most dreadful.
The man could not hand the offering over wherever he liked. He carried it to the priest, at the entrance of the tent where God met His people:
Every sin is a sin against God. This is why the offering had to be brought to God. We need to realise that the matter concerns our relationship with God. The sacrifice of Christ has settled the problem of our sin — that is the sin offering. It has also made us acceptable before Him, so that we stand in His favour — that is the burnt offering.
Doves and pigeons were what the poor brought when they could not afford a lamb:
Then he had to offer "two turtle doves or two young pigeons," the sacrifice of one who "was not able to bring a lamb." This admitted his incapacity and his worthlessness as a servant. It also admitted the value of the blood offered for his purification. We should note these things. When we have lost communion with the Lord, we should not put on a show of spiritual power. When we have failed in the responsibility of our service, we should humbly confess our sin before God.
The way back followed a set order. One writer traces it:
Seven days had to pass before he could be cleansed — seven days, so that he might see himself as God sees him. Then he was to shave his head and remove the public sign of his vow, his long hair. After this, on the eighth day, the start of a new period... he was to bring a sin offering and a burnt offering to the priest, to make atonement for him, at the door of the tent of meeting — the Lord's meeting place with His people. In a word, he had to come again under the full power of the sacrifice of Christ.
Why the eighth day and not the seventh?
"The eighth day" (v. 10) is the start of a new week, its first day. So we find the Nazarite beginning his separation over again, so to speak. Sinners can be separated to God only by death — the death of Christ. By His resurrection, He began in power the new creation.
The offering restores; it does not start salvation over:
This burnt offering and sin offering remind us that the work of the Lord Jesus is enough — even in the sad case of the defilement of a believer. Some claim that we "have to go back to the cross" "to be converted anew." That is not it. We are saved once for all time. Yet our Lord also died with a case of unintended defilement in view.
- Defilement. Contact with death broke the vow even when the man could not have avoided it — in God's sight, defilement is sin.
- Confession. No plea excused him; the two birds were the sacrifice of someone admitting he could not bring a lamb.
- Atonement. Clearing even one touch of a dead body took the full value of Christ's death — sin offering and burnt offering together.
- Approach. The offering went to the priest at God's meeting place, because the damage was to a relationship with God.
- Renewal. On the eighth day — the first day of a new week — he consecrated his head again, and his separation began afresh.
And he shall [again] consecrate to Jehovah the days of his separation, and shall bring a yearling lamb for a trespass-offering. But the first days are forfeited, for his consecration hath been defiled.
A Nazarite was someone who took a vow of separation to God, marked out in public by his long, uncut hair. This verse deals with the moment a dead body breaks that vow. He must start his days of separation over again, bring a lamb as a guilt offering, and lose the days he has already kept.
The defilement here is sudden and unintended. That makes the ruling hard to accept. One writer refuses the excuse we reach for, and says why the earlier days count for nothing:
To our eyes it would seem to be an accident, but there are none. The power of circumstances should never prevail over those set apart to God. How naturally we excuse ourselves by pointing to our weakness and the unexpected attacks of the enemy! But true weakness is always strength, and there are no circumstances in which God is not present. Nothing of this sort is admitted here… The former days of his vow are lost days. He must begin his vow completely again, because his separation had been defiled. Not finishing it shows that something spoiled the whole of that time. For if the soul is with God, it never lacks power to carry things through.
The guilt offering — also called the "trespass offering" — met God's claim where His rights had been infringed. Two people in the law could not be restored without one:
No trespass-offering was appointed for any public festival. Yet a leper could not be cleansed without one (Leviticus 14:10-14). And a Nazarite who had defiled the head of his consecration could not renew it until he had brought a male lamb of the first year as a trespass offering to the Lord (Numbers 6:12). In both cases God's rights had really been infringed.
The lamb also settles the matter on ground outside the man himself:
Although the Nazarite had failed, he was to "separate himself to the LORD for the days of his separation." God delights in those who seek to live for Him in this world, despite their weaknesses and failures. The lamb of the trespass offering gives the assurance before God that all His claims about our failures have been met. Our relationship with Him rests on the perfection of the work of His own Son.
The verse does not end the vow. It restarts it, and one writer finds grace in that:
This verse shows that the Nazarite was given the opportunity to separate himself to God once again, as had originally been in his heart. It is wonderful to see God's grace at work here, allowing the Nazarite to start over.
Restoration follows a set order. The offerings come first, then the fresh consecration:
First, he must have a thorough sense of his condition before God. Seven days had to pass before he could be cleansed — seven days, so that he might see himself as God sees him. Then he was to shave his head, removing his long hair, the public sign of his Nazariteship. After this came the eighth day, the start of a new period. He was to bring a sin offering and a burnt offering to the priest… In a word, he came again under the full power of the sacrifice of Christ. And last, he was to consecrate his head again, and offer a lamb as a trespass offering.
Pardon and recovery are not the same thing:
It is true that grace pardons and restores, but we never regain what we have lost.
The loss is more than days on a calendar, and there is a warning with it:
Anything that brings us into contact with sin has its effect on our Nazariteship. We lose the power that belongs to communion with God, and the special presence of the Spirit with us, whatever measure of that power we were given. Sadly, the time that went before is lost. We must begin again. It is great grace that every privilege of serving God is not taken from us… In any case we should own our defilement at once and go to Christ. We should not pretend to be Nazarites on the outside when we are not so in God's eyes. Nothing is more dangerous than serving God with an impure conscience. Yet let us always remember that we are under grace.
- Contact. Contact with death defiles, and the law accepts no plea of accident. Circumstances never outweigh a person set apart to God.
- Claim. The guilt offering is needed because God's rights were really infringed. The lamb declares that the work of His Son meets every claim.
- Cleansing. Restoration runs in order: first a true sense of his state, then the sin and burnt offerings, then fresh consecration. There is no quiet carrying on as if nothing happened.
- Cost. Grace pardons and restores, but the earlier days are lost. What goes is power in communion and the Spirit's special presence — not God's pardon.
- Continuation. The vow can be taken up again from the start. That permission is the mercy in the verse — if the failure is owned, not covered by an outward show.