Essay By Dan
It has been my observation from Genesis 3 that we have been rebellious since the beginning. The rebellion started with Adam and expanded to all of us. Then Elohim (God) pushed the reset button on civilization (Noah and the flood) and started fresh with one family. Gradually, after the flood, Elohim introduced rules to live by (Leviticus) – a process of self-regulation that required our attention.
When I read Leviticus, I am struck by the sheer volume and range of trouble we can get ourselves into. Human sin is very destructive. It disfigures our soul, pollutes our mind, and taints our heart with darkness. God’s work in us is impaired, distracted, weakened. Our relationships are fractured, we struggle for power, we become aggressive in our heart, and eventually we become comfortable with evil. Rebellion and self-aggrandizement become our highway to mediocracy. Our sin is invasive; it spreads from our heart to our family – then the rebellion quickly infects the community and creeps into God’s house. The Holy of Holies becomes unclean. How does God feel? I suspect a combination of exasperation and compassion for us. We vandalize his house with our sin, leaving our tags everywhere. His tears form. We leave our trash in heaps at his feet (as we unburden ourselves) and then head straight back into the cesspool. He sighs. He is holy, we are mired in rebellion. Yes, I too am guilty of creating trash heaps.
The ancient story of Israel and Egypt is a story of sorrow when God’s people choose to take ownership of God’s plan and redefine morality to suit their desires. As a result, they became slaves in Egypt. Enter Moses, the Red Sea, the Tabernacle, and the book of Leviticus. Tabernacle operations (defined in Leviticus) was the method where God opened the door to dwell amongst the people with a new leadership plan (sin payments). The tabernacle walls protected our eyes from Elohim’s shekinah light.
You know that sin is infectious. It is easier to continue than stop. The Israelites needed a path that pulled them away from sin, cleared the debt of sin, and opened the door to sustainable operations in God’s presence. This leads us to the reason for animal sacrifice. The sacrifice was first seen in the skins provided by God to Adam and Eve to cover their nakedness (self-awareness of sin); then, as time progressed, sin became much more deplorable. Rampant sin illustrated the need for a new covenant.
I would not find it easy to cut an animal’s throat and watch it die, even if it were necessary to rectify my personal foolishness. Please understand, I am a carnivorous person, killing animals is part of that lifestyle. But this sacrifice thing is different. Watching life (blood) drain into a bowl, a visceral image of the outcome of sin, would be an overwhelming event for me. We (through our sin) accelerate the darkness that tries to crush the world. The impact cannot be overstated; it may not seem like much to yell at your neighbor. Who gets injured? Yet, looking at sin on the global scale, the multiplication factor drives the number of sins towards infinity every moment of every day. The aggregate of our sin grieves God. The old covenant law exposes Lucifer and our weakness. The new covenant is built on grace.
The symbolism of the sacrifice is a physical expression of God’s demand for justice and desire to offer grace. Elohim is justified when he wants people to face the consequences (owning the sacrifice). But, at the same time, he feels compassion for us. So, he accepts the animal’s life as a temporary payment. Consider the impact of the Yom Kippur’s blood offering and the scapegoat (sin removal). This is a precursor for the ransom of Jesus and the Holy Spirit to write Elohim’s precepts on our hearts.
John wrote — God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that HE LOVED US and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1 John 4:9-10). His love and sacrifice for us defines our path home.
I choose Jesus.