Leviticus

Leviticus

Opening the Scriptures

Cornelis Vonk

Nelson D. Kloosterman, Translator

Leviticus

Opening the Scriptures

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09/09/21

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 

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Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Translator’s Introduction

Chapter 1: You shall be holy unto me

Part 1: The Sacrificial Torah: General principles

Chapter 2: Reconciliation through death

Chapter 3: The requirements for sacrificial animals

Chapter 4: The general procedure for sacrificing an animal

Part 2: The Sacrificial Torah: Specific requirements

Chapter 5: The burnt offering (Lev 1)

Chapter 6: The grain offering (Lev 2)

Chapter 7: The peace offering (Lev 3)

Chapter 8: The sin offering (Lev 4:1–5:13)

Chapter 9: The guilt offering (Lev 5:14–6:7)

Chapter 10: The second section of the sacrificial Torah (Lev 6:8–7:38)

Part 3: The Priesthood

Chapter 11: The installation of Aaron and his four sons (Lev 8)

Chapter 12: The inauguration of Aaron and his four sons (Lev 9)

Chapter 13: The deposition of Nadab and Abihu (Lev 10)

Part 4: The people of Yahweh

Chapter 14: General observations

Chapter 15: Torah instruction with regard to eating clean and unclean animals (Lev 11)

Chapter 16: Torah instruction with regard to the uncleanness after childbirth (Lev 12)

Chapter 17: Torah instruction with regard to the uncleanness of leprosy (Lev 13–14)

Chapter 18: Torah instruction with regard to uncleanness through discharges of males and females (Lev 15)

Chapter 19: Zealots for the Law

Chapter 20: The Great Day of Atonement (Lev 16)

Chapter 21: Be careful with the blood! (Lev 17)

Chapter 22: No pagan lifestyle! (Lev 18–20)

Chapter 23: Keeping priests and sacrificial gifts holy (Lev 21–22)

Chapter 24: Observe my Sabbaths! (Lev 23–25)

Chapter 25: Conclusion and transition to Numbers (Lev 26–27)

Bibliography

Translator’s Introduction

This volume is part of the original multi-volume Dutch commentary series entitled De Voorzeide Leer, which means the aforesaid doctrine, a phrase found in the Reformed liturgical form used in connection with the baptism of infants. In their responsive vows, the child’s parents promise to teach their child in the aforesaid doctrine, referring to the teachings of the Bible, the ecumenical creeds, and the Reformed confessions. We have chosen to entitle the series Opening the Scriptures as an encouragement to readers to take in hand these commentaries as handbooks for working through portions of Scripture that may be unfamiliar.

Opening the Scriptures is not a new series of technical commentaries that explain the Bible word for word, although this series of volumes does rest upon careful exegesis. Nor is it a collection of sermons, although now and then the authors shine the light of Scripture on our modern world. Actually, there is no familiar category of Bible studies that serves as a suitable classification for Opening the Scriptures. This series has a unique character. It offers devout church members a series of popularly accessible primers, with no display of scholarly expertise, so that the average churchgoer can easily grasp them.

As far as their approach is concerned, these volumes begin by telling you about the structure of the biblical book that you want to study. This is because an overview of the whole enhances insight into the parts. After all, Scripture is neither a loose-leaf assortment of essays nor a collection of isolated texts. The ABC guidelines of the authors of this series is this: pay attention to the text, the context, and the canonical place of the biblical book (or the other way around). What is the scope of a particular book, and how is it organized? What is its place in the totality of Scripture? For example, what ties Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings together? In short, Opening the Scriptures resembles a museum guidebook that opens your eyes to the beauty and meaning for today of the treasures, large and small, being exhibited.

The organization of this series follows the four main sectional divisions of Holy Scripture (Luke 24:44). For the Holy Spirit has joined together all the books of the Bible into an imposing edifice. The Torah, or the five books of Moses, is the foundation upon which the entire Scripture rests. Therefore this section of the Bible is discussed most extensively in Opening the Scriptures. The many prophetic books form the walls. The Psalms and Wisdom books are the windows. Over all of this the Holy Spirit has laid the golden dome roof of the New Testament. The authors of Opening the Scriptures would like to guide you through this immense building. They will ask, Have you seen this, and did you notice that? And when you respond, Surely the Bible is a wonderful book, and I would like to know more about it! then they will have achieved their purpose.

These concluding translator comments may be helpful.

First, in the original Dutch volume, each chapter concludes with notes, endnotes referring the reader to commentaries and other relevant studies, most of them in Dutch or German. The usefulness of these endnotes to the English-language reader is dubious. Where substantive explanations of the main text appear in these notes, they have been incorporated into the main text in English.

Second, because of both their content and their interruption of the flow of the exposition of Leviticus, sections of the original Dutch edition dealing with the immortality of the soul (pages 49–161 in the original) and with Judaizing (pages 397–477 in the original) have been omitted from this English-language edition.

Finally, throughout the commentary, the author engages in somewhat incidental discussions relevant to his own ecclesiastical history and tradition. A number of these have been omitted simply for the sake of brevity and relevance.

Opening the Scriptures

Opening the Scriptures is neither a new series of technical commentaries, nor is it a collection of sermons. Instead it offers devout church members a series of popularly accessible primers so that the average churchgoer can easily grasp them.

The organization of this series follows the four main sectional divisions of Holy Scripture: the Torah, the many prophetic books, the Psalms and wisdom books, and the New Testament. The authors of Opening the Scriptures show throughout that Holy Scripture is from A to Z the Book of God’s covenant with his people.

1

You shall be holy unto me

If the Pentateuch is a necklace with five sparkling jewels, then Leviticus is the carnelian.

It is as red as a carnelian because of so much blood, so much that the book overflows with blood.

For in this book we hear more about that foundation of the (Israelite) world that we discussed in the closing pages of our commentary on Exodus. Here we will learn more about the basis upon which Israelite society was established by God.

The first stone of that foundation was laid with the announcement of the ten words of the covenant from Mount Sinai.

The next action was the erection of the tabernacle as the palace of Israel’s king among his people at Horeb. That was what Exodus was about.

Leviticus talks about the ministry with which this people were to please their God with and around that palace, that sanctuary.

A ministry of blood.

Daily, weekly, annually.

Does not that impressive river of blood call out for the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ?

For Christ has entered, not into holy places made with hands . . . . Nor was it to offer himself repeatedly, as the high priest enters the holy places every year with blood not his own, for then he would have had to suffer repeatedly since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself (Heb 9:24–26).

1. The place of Leviticus

No one reading through the book of Leviticus right after reading Exodus receives the impression of suddenly entering a totally different world.

The transition is almost invisible.

The last chapter of Exodus, chapter 40, was just telling us about the tabernacle, occupied by God as his home.

Now immediately following, Leviticus 1 begins by speaking about the sacrifices that would have to be brought to that newly erected sanctuary (Lev 1–3), all the way to Leviticus 7. A rather lengthy explanation. Commentators often call Leviticus 1–7 the sacrificial Torah.

Next follows a narrative about the appointment of those who would have to serve in that sanctuary in the sacrificial ministry. We read about the appointment of Aaron and his four sons in Leviticus 8–10.

The next section, Leviticus 11–15, is about cleanness and uncleanness, and is closely related to the tabernacle. For in a camp that was stationed around the tent of Yahweh, nothing was allowed to enter that hinted of . . . death. If such a hint appeared, it must be removed. Removed from the presence of God and the people of life.

Leviticus 16 deals with the great day of atonement.

This too was inconceivable apart from the tabernacle.

And the book continues in this line.

Everything focuses on God who wants to occupy a palace and ascend a throne in the midst of Israel. That is all well and good, but then everything surrounding it must comport with his will and command. As the sanctuary, so the people.

That is what Leviticus teaches us.

That is its special place among the first five books of the Bible. This is what we indicated in our earlier commentary on Exodus:¹

After becoming acquainted in Genesis with the background of the exodus, we open the Pentateuch in Exodus to learn that the same Yahweh who had led Israel out of Egypt was the one who had created heaven and earth, and had saved Abraham. Only to discover next that Leviticus begins where Exodus ended. With the sanctuary in which the king of Israel had taken up residence.

2. The time of Leviticus

After the tabernacle was constructed, Israel did not remain long at Mount Sinai, no longer than a month, in fact. In that time period God had revealed to Moses what we now read in the book of Leviticus.

How do we know this?

In our commentary on Exodus we calculated a number of dates,² which we can now supplement. As the reader may recall, we call the year of the exodus Year 1.

Not only will this list help us later when we read Numbers, but it can help us now already as we read Leviticus. We can see clearly that there must have been one month between the completion of the tabernacle and the census of the fighting men that preceded the departure from Horeb.

During that month God must have revealed to Moses and commissioned him with what we now have in the book of Leviticus. That fact is evident from Leviticus itself. Let’s look at a few passages.

First, Lev 1:1: The Lord called Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting.

To what does the tent of meeting refer here? Perhaps the tent in which God occasionally talked to Moses during the intermezzo after Israel’s sin with the golden calf?³ There was no reason for that. Was it then perhaps the tabernacle? There is every reason for thinking so. For that had been promised earlier. God would not only live there among Israel, but he would also speak from there to Moses. That had been promised in Exod 29:42. That could now occur. Apparently it occurred frequently. We should probably have in mind such meetings between God and Moses even when no mention is made of the tabernacle as the place of revelation (Lev 8:1, Yahweh spoke to Moses; Lev 11:1, Yahweh spoke to Moses and Aaron; Lev 16:1, Yahweh spoke to Moses; Lev 17:1; 18:1; 19:1; 20:1; 21:1; 22:1; etc.).

Some Bible readers might perhaps think of a different place of revelation, when, for example, we read several times about Mount Sinai (Lev 7:38; 25:1).

With Lev 7:38 we should probably see this as a notation written by the person who organized and collected the parts of Leviticus. The verse reads like this: this is the law for such and such sacrifices "which the Lord commanded Moses on Mount Sinai, on the day that he commanded the people of Israel to bring their offerings to the Lord, in the wilderness of Sinai. It is evident that the person who later collected the various parts wanted to tell the readers that the laws that had just been narrated all dated from the time when Israel was staying at Horeb. The only question is: During which time? From the time when Moses was still receiving revelation from God on top of Mount Sinai, regarding the covenant and the construction of the tabernacle? It is not obvious that we should think that this referred to that period, for that has already been described in Exodus, in great detail. No, when Lev 7:38 speaks about laws that Yahweh had commanded Moses on Mount Sinai, we should not suppose this refers to those earlier revelations of God to Moses, but to the later ones. Not on the mountain per se, but in the tabernacle. Could we not date what God had said to Moses in that tabernacle as occurring during Israel’s stay at Horeb, all of which Lev 7:38 is referring to as on Mount Sinai? Though it is stated in more general terms, Lev 1:1 was more accurate: The Lord called Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting." This is the heading above Leviticus to which all the subsequent passages are referring that we mentioned earlier. All of these conversations happened at Horeb, but after the tabernacle had been built and consecrated. Which means that these conversations happened near the end of Israel’s stay at Mount Sinai. So as we review our list of dates, we conclude that these occurred during the month between Month 1, Day 1, Year 2 and Month 2, Day 1, Year 2.

All of Leviticus, its entire content, was revealed during that single month.

We arrive at that conclusion with the help of the verse with which the book closes: These are the commandments that the Lord commanded Moses for the people of Israel on Mount Sinai (Lev 27:34).

Here again we encounter the words on Mount Sinai. We discussed them above, in connection with Lev 7:38, and it is our view that when they surface again at the end of the book, they do not prevent us from connecting this to the specific month when Yahweh gave Moses various commandments, speaking from the ark. The conclusion of Lev 27:34 is casting a backward glance toward that event.

But people are generally of the opinion that the last chapter of Leviticus does not really belong to the book, but was added to the book as an appendix.

Even so, if the actual book of Leviticus ended one chapter earlier, with Leviticus 26, its final verse closely resembles the last verse of chapter 27. In Lev 26:46 we read: These are the statutes and rules and laws that the Lord made between himself and the people of Israel through Moses on Mount Sinai. As you can tell, this verse also has the appearance of a concluding verse. It is speaking in general terms. It does not mention any specific laws, like particular sacrificial prescriptions, as we find in Lev 7:37–38. No laws about specific impurities, like we find in Leviticus 11, 13, 14, and 15. Nothing specific. The entire content of Leviticus is summarized, concerning which we are told—once more, since this was repeated earlier with other sections—that all those statutes, ordinances, and laws had been given at Horeb by God to Moses. The phrase on Mount Sinai should not be interpreted to mean on the top of Mount Sinai, but to mean at Horeb, after God had taken up residence in the tabernacle.

When we say that "all of Leviticus was given by God to Moses within that month," we are not excluding the possibility that the hand of someone other than Moses had written down, arranged, annotated, and collected what had been revealed to Moses. In Deut 17:8–13 we read that Moses himself had incorporated the labor of others.

And don’t forget especially the language. Let’s assume that ancient Near Eastern life was more stable than our own, that mores and customs continued the same for centuries. Let’s also assume that in religious affairs, the language showed little development. You have only to think of our own formal ecclesiastical language. Nevertheless, it need not be the case that the language of the Israelites had remained so unaltered since the time of Moses that centuries later it could have been read with ease as a document written in the language of Moses and his contemporaries. Just like most Dutch people today would not be able to read a Dutch book from the 1500s. The Hebrew of Moses’ day would have shown considerable Egyptian influence, judging by the second half of the book of Genesis. Living for so many centuries in a strange environment would not have left the language of such a small group unaffected. Even if the majority of the Israelites had lived in isolation in Goshen, others had certainly lived among Egyptian neighbors (Exod 3:22), had even married Egyptian husbands or wives (Gen 41:45; Lev 24:10), and Moses himself was raised in an Egyptian palace and instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians (Exod 2:10; Acts 7:22), so that in his notes written at Horeb, he would not have used the language of the Canaanites. Thanks to the significantly enlarged understanding today of the languages of Canaan from the time surrounding Israel’s exodus and entrance, we may conclude that some terms found in the sacrificial Torah of Leviticus strongly resemble those commonly used among the Canaanites of that time. That points to a later translation, revision, alteration, or whatever one might term it. The adapting of the ancient linguistic garment in which Israel received its inheritance through Moses, to the language of their new land. For even if a shared Babylonian past had likely played a role, it appears certain that in the case of Israel in Canaan, the conquerors adopted much of the language of the vanquished.

Possibilities galore for editorial consequences.

Even though there are still all those sentences in Leviticus that speak repeatedly about Moses. Then Yahweh said to Moses . . . . Would a person write this way about himself?

For this and other reasons, we would not dare to insist that the book of Leviticus as we have it before us dates from the time of Moses. This is something that in fact is not reported to us in the book itself.

We suggest the following course of events.

Just as had happened earlier, before the construction of the tabernacle (Exod 24:4), Moses would have made a record of everything that God told him during that particular month. Then (exactly when, we don’t know) someone other than Moses grouped portions and documents and provided titles and summaries. Why could that not have been done by someone like Joshua or Eleazar? We can only guess about when the later linguistic revisions may have occurred.

In any case, with this view we are maintaining the conviction that the content of Leviticus came from God to Moses, so that our Savior could say about Moses, both on formal as well as material grounds, in terms of the book of Leviticus: He has written of me (John 5:46).

3. Leviticus: a fence

In the month preceding the census and preparation for marching, the book of Leviticus, at least in terms of its content, came into being at Horeb.

Leviticus was given before the march against Canaan.

Like a tank.

For God did not want his Israel to go into battle unprotected.

For we must recall that initially God had not intended that Israel would have entered the land of Canaan after forty years. Entering Canaan could have been a matter of months. But we will say more about this in connection with our commentary on the book of Numbers.

Leviticus was given with a view to Canaan. That land of Canaan against which Israel would be marching in 1.5 months. Read the warnings concerning the Canaanite wickedness in Lev 18:3 and 20:23. The book of Leviticus had to serve as armor against the filth of Canaan, to keep Israel what she was: the holy congregation of Yahweh. For otherwise . . . .

Let us look now at the other side of the coin.

The laws of Leviticus had a double purpose. Not only to protect Israel against Canaan, but also to preserve Israel against . . . her own God, Yahweh. This is what I mean:

If there is one word we encounter repeatedly in Leviticus, it’s the word holy. We find this word in the richest variety of contexts. It’s a word that defies definition. We repeatedly hear Yahweh say about himself that he is holy. Naturally, no mortal possesses the same holiness as Israel’s God, the One who now is our God. With whom will you compare God? Isaiah asked (40:18). Even though God was free to declare as holy whomever he chose, and whatever he chose. In Leviticus you will frequently be astonished that objects, things, like the tabernacle, are called holy. The utensils of the tabernacle as well. Although one thing may be more holy than another. In addition, those performing the sacrifices were holy. But this did not mean that everything was most holy. To say it reverently: the word holy is used with considerable variation in meaning. Finally, we would not fail to mention that in Leviticus the entire people of Israel is called holy. This is something that, with their arrival at Horeb, appeared at most to be a task laid upon Israel (Exod 19:6): Holiness as calling. But in Leviticus we hear Yahweh announcing his holiness as a gift that served as the foundation for Israel’s existence, it was granted to Israel so that Israel would be holy. Both are true. The calling first and then the gift. First, you shall be holy before me. For I, Yahweh, am holy, and I have separated you from the nations to be mine (Lev 20:26).

What then does holy mean?

Language studies provide no useful answer to that question. The etymology of the Hebrew word qadosh is uncertain. As one commentator notes, behind the holiness of Yahweh there probably lies the notion of the awesome appearance of his majesty. In the Babylonian Assyrian language, the root of the Hebrew word possesses the meaning of to be awesome, as well as to be of glorious appearance. He is majestic in holiness, awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders (Exod 15:11). When God reveals himself as the Holy One, he displays his power among the nations in the deliverance of Israel (Ezek 20:41–42). But it was especially the consuming side of God’s holiness that was described, as in Lev 10:1–7: when Aaron’s sons brought strange fire on the altar, a consuming fire came forth from Yahweh, and he said: Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified (Lev 10:3).

Holy . . . and holiness . . . of God, of people, and of objects. Leviticus supplies us with no concrete definition, but we must discover it by reading the book. Or stated better: we must seek an impression by reading and more reading.

As we read through Leviticus, we will come to see that the laws of this book were given to Moses, and to Israel, so that it might be possible for those two—God and Israel—who had been so closely related through the covenant and the tabernacle, to continue together.

Yahweh was so very holy, and therefore Israel had to be just as holy.

As you might imagine, no amount of money in the world could induce us to denigrate the Torah. That lovely Torah, that Law of Yahweh for Israel, given so that people might come to know him as their faithful covenant God.

But also to learn from the Torah how to interact with God. For in the midst of an entire world of nations wandering about in darkness and succumbing to death, Israel was permitted to be the people of life. But she was also commanded to be the people of life. Otherwise God could not dwell among his people as Yahweh, the One who is near. This explains the massive complex of measures given to enable the continued interaction between those two. For ultimately Israel was nothing but one nation among others, whose ancestry and character were no different from those other nations. How easily Israel would slide back down to that former level from which she had been graciously delivered. That deathly level. Something that entailed the risk of destruction through the pouring out of God’s holiness against the entire nation or against individual members of the nation. This explains the manifold measures designed to rescue Israel from abandoning or even unintentionally slipping off the foundation on which she had been placed at Horeb. This explains why we find later in Numbers an important chapter about the mediating place of the tribe of Levi in Israel’s encampment. Like a guardrail between the congregation and the tabernacle. This explains why in Leviticus we find numerous "statutes and rules and laws that the Lord made between himself and the people of Israel through Moses on Mount Sinai"—as we read once more in the closing verse of Lev 26:46.

We already discussed the phrase on Mount Sinai. Here we have italicized the word between. Should we not interpret this as referring to the fence at the foot of Sinai for the safety of people and animals when God descended on the mountain? The laws of Leviticus would form a permanent isolating railing between Yahweh and his people.

The men of Beth-shemesh later complained: Who is able to stand before the Lord, this holy God? (1 Sam 6:20). And in Isa 33:14 the sinners heard people crying out: Who among us can dwell with the consuming fire? Who among us can dwell with everlasting burnings?

Nadab and Abihu had scarcely been consecrated as priests before they were killed in the presence of Yahweh. For God said: Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified (Lev 3:10).

At this point we must recall that the mediator between God and people, the man Jesus Christ, was permitted by this God, whom he himself had called holy Father (John 17:11), to enter into the holy of holies above. And this when he had taken upon himself the entire burden of our sins. When he had stood before God as sin itself (2 Cor 5:21). But he had died to sin once for all, and death no longer has dominion over him (Rom 6:9–10). Like a sponge absorbs water, like a tissue soaks up the spilled ink, and like the lightning rod attracts the fire of heaven to itself, so too he has borne God’s wrath in his suffering and death.

Anyone who has read Leviticus and been impressed with God’s awesome aversion to sin and death will catch his breath when he sees Jesus Christ, in the Gospels, ascending the path as our substitute, the path leading him to the mount of God’s holiness. We can only stagger when we behold him with pierced hands breaking down the wall between Yahweh and the congregation, the wall that Leviticus describes for us.

He was successful.

The church today is free from the law. It was a good law. Certainly. Of course. But in many respects it was a harsh custodian.

Coming after this advocate and surety, we too may now appear before God without fear, along this living way, Christ Jesus. We are fervently exhorted not to throw away our proof of access (Heb 10:35). In the paradise that will descend to earth, the church of glory will receive an access much freer than Aaron and his sons ever received in terms of the shadow of that access known as the tabernacle. As kings and priests, for the purpose of worshiping the Holy One, they will behold his face. It is the privilege of priests (Rev 2:7; 21:2; 22:3–4).

4. The style of Leviticus

Things occur in Leviticus that would have never been permitted in our textbooks and law books today. Here are a few examples.

As we mentioned earlier, Leviticus 1–7 deals with sacrifices. In fairly broad strokes, seven chapters are devoted to that. Nowadays many people would surely think that that was rather exhaustive. Space enough, and then some, so that the author would not have needed to return later to the subject with supplemental comments. Such comments could have easily been included in those seven chapters.

But not in Leviticus.

When we find seven chapters devoted to that subject, we encounter all the way at the end, in Lev 22:17–25, various regulations about . . . inadmissible defects in sacrificial animals. Defects that rendered an animal unusable for slaughter at Yahweh’s sanctuary.

This was something that, according to the style of writing—of articles, brochures, books—as would be considered by some in our day as absolutely correct, would not have occurred. Sloppy, incomplete, we will have to accept the fact that the Holy Spirit did not take into consideration their style in Leviticus. If they did that, perhaps they could learn from Leviticus, also when it involved that so-called dry material, to put forth some effort to avoid boring their readers.

Leviticus is the kind of book about which a heartfelt Christian once honestly admitted to us that he had skipped over in family devotions. Leviticus is a wonderful book. Especially for Christians. For everywhere in this book you meet the costly suffering and genuine death, but especially the resurrection from the dead unto life, of our Lord Jesus Christ.

You need not fall asleep while reading Leviticus. It does not consist of a collection of police regulations, static narratives, financial statements. Nor does it consist of a bunch of dry sermons, the kind that resembles dry minutes of a meeting instead of the lively proclamation of the words of eternal life.

Of course Leviticus does require careful attention on the part of its readers. Especially at those points where you come into contact with the unsavory aspects of the law applied to the church of Israel. People need to be careful. Anyone who had touched a dead animal at work early in the morning would be unclean for the rest of the day and was not allowed to set foot in the forecourt. And if there were a leper or a corpse in the tent, the uneasiness was great. When Leviticus talks about such things, we can understand that some people might get the impression that they were reading a manual for priests. Indeed, those priests had to give Israel significant torah, or instruction about God’s ways.

But Israel possessed in rich measure something that is unfortunately missing among us.

Sensitivity for symbolism!

Thanks to that rich symbolism, Leviticus contains a lot that requires explanation, but it is on that account that makes it all the more stimulating. It is a book full of variety.

In that connection, story plays a very important role in Leviticus as well. Where would you find in a modern law book or manual such doctrinal teaching? And what reads more interestingly than a good story?

1

. Vonk, Exodus,

33

.

2

. Vonk, Exodus,

304

–

307

.

3

. See Vonk, Exodus,

127

–

45

.

Part 1

The Sacrificial Torah: General principles

2

Reconciliation through death

We have said it more than once already. The first seven chapters of the book of Leviticus are all devoted to one and the same subject, namely, the sacrifices. That much is obvious, in view of what preceded and what followed this section. We have already discussed what preceded. That Moses’ account of what God revealed to him about the required sacrificial ministry obtained a place of prominence is obvious. In this way we have a suitable coupling with the conclusion of Exodus, regarding God’s accepting of the tabernacle from Israel’s hands. That tabernacle would be the place where the sacrifices would later need to be brought.

Concerning what followed, we see that after the instruction about sacrifices in Leviticus 1–7 we find the story about the census of the priesthood in Leviticus 8–10. This would apply to various sacrifices. In fact, later in Leviticus various sacrifices would be discussed with a view to different occasions. Thanks to the placement at the beginning of the large section about the sacrifices, every reader would be able to know accurately what kinds of sacrifices were involved.

This is indeed a large section. It carries extra significance because of its introductory character. Therefore we believe it would be helpful to do what we did in connection with the tabernacle, namely, arrange our discussion in terms of a general section and a particular section. In the first section we will discuss things related to all, or at least most, of the sacrifices. Once we’ve completed that, we will be able in the next section to discuss each sacrifice separately and more briefly.

I. GENERAL SECTION

Israel knew more than one kind of sacrifice. We can surmise that by skimming over the first seven chapters of Leviticus. God talked with Moses about burnt offerings, grain offerings, peace offerings, sin offerings, and guilt offerings. But all those offerings had something in common, for example, they were all brought to God. Some sacrifices belonged to a distinct group and shared something special. You should understand that these matters are more general in nature, so we will discuss them as follows:

A.Reconciliation through death

B.The theory of an immortal soul (chapter 3)

C.The requirements for each sacrificial animal (chapter 4)

D.The general procedure for sacrificing an animal (chapter 5)

A. Reconciliation through death

1. The origin of the sacrifice

Nowhere in Holy Scripture do you read one word about God explicitly instituting sacrifices in earlier times. Not even at those points where we might have expected it, like Genesis 4, the first Scripture passage where we encounter the word for sacrifice (minchah).

True enough, we do not find there an explicit narrative about the instituting of any sacrifice. But from the silence of Scripture concerning this subject we should not deduce that such an instituting of sacrifice by God did not occur. We should certainly not conclude that sacrifice was therefore something that people invented. That would be a completely illegitimate conclusion drawn from the silence of Scripture. We would mention the following matters, which point us in an entirely different direction.

In the story about Cain and Abel, Genesis 4 talks directly above sacrifices as though they were the most familiar practices in the world, without any introductory explanation of them. We are not surprised by that when we recall that Genesis 4 did not receive its place in Holy Scripture, first of all, for us, but for Israel, for people who had grown up with sacrifices.

Furthermore, however, we notice that Israel consequently knew good and well—in Leviticus we will see this repeatedly—that sacrifices were very important to God. Therefore we have the strong sense that when reading Genesis 4, no Israelite would have thought the first people, including Cain and Abel, would have invented sacrifices from their own imagination. Certainly not. Otherwise an Israelite would have been unable to comprehend that back then already God looked upon sacrifices with approval, which is what in fact had happened, and what is narrated in Gen 4:4. This points to the divine origin of sacrifice.

In addition, even though we admit that in Scripture we are told very little about the first human beings, we nevertheless know for certain that after the rebellion of Adam and Eve, God did not immediately break off all contact with them. Not even with Cain. The gospel of compassion and salvation arose historically in that earliest period. We know about God’s ancient prediction that one day the great enemy of the human race would be destroyed, although that victory would be achieved in no other way than at a high cost (Gen 3:15). From where else than from that prediction can we explain the international rise of hope in the resurrection of the dead, though that hope was often defective? Surely primitive humanity had knowledge of God’s intention and desire to dwell one day in peace among the people he created. The cherubs in the tabernacle appealed to the memory of that among Israel and the nations. We will not repeat what we have written in our commentary on Exodus about the paradise-longings of the patriarchs connected with the tabernacle. We believe that entire portions of God’s revelation concerning that high cost had been preserved among the nations, a price that ensured, come what may, that a resurrection to glory would occur, along a route of suffering and death. From where else can we explain the international sense that there was no possibility for restoring the disrupted fellowship with the offended deity apart from the shedding of blood? Would pagans have heard the apostolic gospel of Heb 9:22—no forgiveness without the shedding of blood—with surprise as though this were something unheard of? What nation did not know about blood sacrifices?

We believe that no one would be guilty of holding to an inappropriate fantasy if they assumed and accepted the claim that God instituted sacrifice, and this institution lay behind the sacrifices of Cain and Abel, the sacrifice of Noah after the Flood (Gen 8:20), and the innumerable sacrifices mentioned in very ancient extra-biblical accounts. These were the kind of sacrifices that provided people an opportunity to confess their faith in God’s promise of restored fellowship with him along the route of surrendering to him the best that people could offer, for putting to death. Apparently from early on, God had permitted the symbolizing of that terrible death of a human being through the sacrifice of an animal. Primitive humanity received no explicit permission to put an animal to death for any other purpose than sacrifice. That is clear from the post-Flood account of God permitting the slaughter of animals for consumption as well (Gen 9:2–4).

So primitive humanity possessed both word and sacrifice, truth and seal, instruction and symbol.

However, we have not received as much information as we might wish concerning these two treasures. We can point to a twofold reason for this. First, the wisdom of God, who apparently determined that what Holy Scripture would tell us about this matter would be sufficient. Second, the sin of those who, with Cain, began already to suppress the truth in unrighteousness (Rom 1:18). According to Genesis, Cain immediately had many followers in this practice. Nevertheless, here as well.

The truth is so powerful. For liars, the truth is indispensable. For just as without iron there would be no rust, no lie could exist without the truth. Every lie contains an element of truth. The world religions must be explained fundamentally on the basis of their distortion of the truth, their bastardization of the tradition. Concerning specifically the constant flowing of blood that has been shed throughout the centuries among the innumerable sanctuaries of Eastern and Western hemispheres, their source and origin must be found in the tragic mangling of the paradise gospel of salvation from the power of the great executioner of humanity, and especially of the pagans (Acts 26:18; Eph 2:2; 1 John 5:19), along the route of bloody struggle, all the way to death (Gen 3:15).

For centuries humanity has undergone a terrible process of apostasy. In addition to the testimony of Scripture, we have the testimony of remarkable remnants of the original knowledge of God and of his commands among the nations. Everywhere we encounter remnants of the ruins of knowledge about creation and a golden age, rebellion and punishment, atonement and peace, resurrection and judgment. Even though by the time when Abraham lived, it had become very, very dark.

Nevertheless, in the pagan religious customs of that time God himself found so much that was useful that he took things over into his service from the religious sphere of Abraham’s idolatrous ancestral home. When we read in Gen 12:7 that Abraham built an altar at Shechem, to the Lord, who had appeared to him, that report appears without any commentary. Apparently because for both Abraham and Israelite readers, for a long time altars and sacrifices had been the most usual phenomena ever.

Notice: for Israel as well.

Just as the fact that God established a covenant with Israel at Horeb and gave two identical tablets as a testimony of this was hardly surprising, so too Israel would not have been surprised when on the day when that covenant was established, Moses had to build an altar, on which God commanded him to present burnt offerings and peace offerings (cf. Exod 24:5). The terms for these (oloth and zevachim) were not introduced or described with a word of explanation, neither for the initial participants in that ceremony nor for the subsequent (primarily Israelite) readers of the story. That was thought to be unnecessary.

In arranging the tabernacle construction, God made use of so many parallels of pagan sanctuaries with their furnishings and priestly garments, that in connection with the tabernacle, we could speak of God’s great annexation at Horeb.⁴

We will encounter such striking parallels as well when we discuss the sacrificial cultus that God gave to Israel through Moses.

For at Horeb, Yahweh did not want to exhaust his people by removing them entirely from their context as an Eastern people. He did not overwhelm Israel with a flood of novelties. What could be retained was retained, although it was purified, and reunited to the genuine, ancient gospel of Genesis 3–4, with its preaching of God’s hatred of Satan, sin, and death, and of his compassion toward people. Those people he was prepared to save, at any cost. Through the surrender, from his side, of the highest and most beloved gift humanly possible, surrendered to that same terrible death.

Today we would say: all of this extended to the Mediator’s death.

2. Blood sacrifice was central, bloodless sacrifice was incidental

We hasten to add a correction to the preceding. We have repeatedly used the word sacrifice, by which we were continually referring to bloody sacrifice.

But not all sacrifices that Israel brought were bloody. We see that from the general term for sacrifice, the word corban.

This term was so general that it included gifts not intended at all to be laid on the altar to be burned. Corban referred, for example, to gifts of wine for the sanctuary, mentioned with respect to the princes of Num 7:3 and the generals in Num 31:50 (wagons for transporting the tabernacle and military plunder that consisted of gold armlets and bracelets, signet rings and earrings).

Corban referred as well to every gift brought to Yahweh as Israel’s Landlord, including first fruits and tithes.

Finally, corban also referred to what for us would be identified as a sacrifice, namely, a gift to be laid on the altar, to be entirely or partially consumed by fire. As the reader can see, people generally use the word corban, sacrifice, far too narrowly.

Moreover, those altar sacrifices did not always consist of an animal. In addition to bloody altar sacrifices there were bloodless altar sacrifices. People placed flour, bread, loaves, wine, oil, incense, and salt on the altar.

What then did that general word, corban, mean with reference to sacrifices?

This word corban would be most familiar to Bible readers from Mark 7:11. There we read how our Savior had criticized how the Jewish scribes had neutralized the simple word and command of God with their complicated doctrines. Because, after all, God was more than a human being, they approved the practice of prosperous children failing to care for their needy parents by declaring their gift to be corban, set aside as a gift for God’s temple. The Hebrew word corban is translated into Greek in Mark 7 with the word doron, a word that generally means gift. It is used for a gift that one person gives another, such as the gift of the Eastern wise men to baby Jesus (Matt 2:11), and for the presents mentioned in Rev 11:10. But it appears also in the combination of gifts and sacrifices to God (Heb 5:1; 8:3; 9:9). This might lead people to suppose that the fundamental meaning of the Hebrew word corban was gift, present, even when referring to altar sacrifices, including bloody altar sacrifices.

In our commentary on Exodus, we saw that this is not accurate. We saw that in the word corban we are reminded of the work of the priests whom God had given to Israel, according to their own request. For actually Israel should have consisted entirely of priests. But at Horeb, God approved the substitution of separate individuals to whom had been committed the special task of coming near to God. Accordingly, they were called kerobim, the one approaching. Similarly, their work was called hikrieb, causing to bring near. Both of these words, referring to sacrifice and bringing sacrifice, are used for sacrifice in general in Lev 1:2, and for each kind of sacrifice individually (for the burnt offering, Lev 1:3; for the grain offering, Lev 2:1, 4, 12; for the thank offering, Lev 3:1, 7, 12; for the sin offering, Lev 4:13, 14, 23; and for the guilt offering, Lev 7:3; 14:12).

In this way, Israel was being taught, by that general term used in Scripture for sacrifice—quite apart from whether it referred to a bloody or a bloodless sacrifice—about the need for mediation between God and them. Even a grain offering—a non-bloody sacrifice—could not be placed on the altar by the hands of just any Israelite, but exclusively and only by the hands of a priest. Even though the grain offering had no atoning significance whatsoever, for example, even for that sacrifice the mediation of the priesthood was required.

The result is that everyone senses that this mediation in cases where a bloody sacrifice was being brought was absolutely indispensable. Whereas with a bloodless sacrifice no restoration of broken fellowship occurred, such restoration always occurred through the bloody sacrifice. Every bloody sacrifice was reconciling, restoring, mediating in the most fundamental and indispensable sense.

This explains why the question about the mediating character of all the sacrifices can best be answered if we pay attention to the preaching that was tied to the bloody sacrifice. For that reason we will turn to this matter in our general section. Not, of course, from a lack of appreciation for the beautiful grain offering, which we will discuss in due course. But here we think it is important to pause to look at the background as we inquire into the meaning of Israel’s sacrificial system. In that connection we must surely place the bloody sacrifice in the foreground, since most kinds of sacrifices among Israel by far involved not plant sacrifices, but animal sacrifices. The grain offerings were merely incidental, compared with the bloody sacrifices, though they too were indispensable.

3. The key to the teaching of the bloody sacrifice

We did not invent this heading. We are borrowing it, more or less, from K. C. W. F. Bähr, Symbolik des Mosaischen Cultus,⁵ whose work we mentioned with appreciation and followed with agreement in our commentary on Genesis. Bähr supplied this heading to a particular passage in the book of Leviticus, namely, Lev 17:11, which reads in the KJV: "For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul." Bähr has written excellent things about this verse. But he has also made comments that give us pause, comments that lead us to use Bähr’s explanation of the sacrifices with great caution. We want to interact with him for the benefit of our readers, since we can learn some things from this exercise.

Just as we have done, so too Bähr took as his starting point for explaining Israel’s sacrificial ministry the bloody sacrifice. We need not say anything further about that. (We will discuss in due time the manner in which Bähr viewed the relationship between the blood sacrifices and the grain offerings.)

Virtually every Bible reader knows from youth onward that the blood of the sacrificial animals was sprinkled on the altar, by the priest, not by the one bringing the offering. The latter could lead the animal, with his hand on the animal’s head, could slaughter the animal, skin it and cut it into pieces, but that was the extent of his task. Only the priest, who had collected the animal’s blood and sprinkled this on the altar, could place some of the animal pieces very specifically on the horns of the altar of burnt offering in the forecourt, and on certain occasions on the horns of the altar of incense in the holy place of the tabernacle. A place where the laity were not allowed to enter. In the forecourt, the one bringing the offering was not allowed to perform every task with respect to the animal. The primary sacrificial action, sprinkling the blood, was exclusively the work of the priest.

Concerning this sprinkling of blood Bähr argued emphatically that this was the central, most essential action connected with the sacrifice. Can we not read this clearly in Lev 17:11 (cited above)? Bähr called that verse the key to the entire Mosaic sacrificial instruction.⁶ And according to Bähr, what was remarkable about that verse? That it didn’t say a word about killing the animal. It said nothing about slaughtering the sacrificial animal. It talked only about the blood of the animal, and about what was supposed to be done with that blood.⁷

What must we conclude, according to Bähr?

That according to Scripture, it was not the death that brought reconciliation, that the means of atonement was not death, but the blood. So it was impermissible to thoughtlessly confuse and equate death and blood. This was the mistake the people made who emphasized the juridical or forensic view of sacrifice. They thought they had found in the notion of sacrifice a satisfaction vicaria to God (rendering a substitutionary satisfaction). According to them the person bringing the sacrifice symbolically placed his sin and guilt on the animal, which was then a substitute for him and bore the punishment in his place. In the course of time, this interpretation had acquired its most ardent defenders among Christians, but it contradicted Scripture. For Scripture sharply distinguished putting to death and sprinkling blood. The former could be performed by the one bringing the sacrifice, but not the latter. That was exclusively the work of the priest that Lev 17:11 taught with emphatic wording, that sin was covered not by the slaying and putting to death, but by blood and sprinkling. "For it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul." Literally: blood covers. So you see, that was the purpose and result of the sacrifice. Not the removal of punishment, but the communication of life. For how was the sacrifice a means of reconciliation? By functioning as a means of sanctification. The blood of the sacrificial animal, symbolic of the blood of the one who was bringing the sacrifice, was put on the altar, its horns and atonement covering, and thereby came into contact with sanctuary and life. In this regard, according to Bähr, the Mosaic system corresponded with pagan religions. Pagan antiquity knew nothing of a process of punishment and a juridical execution in connection with the one bringing the sacrifice. As Bähr put it, "A person gave life to the deity, the source of all life, with the intention of receiving his life back and entering into living fellowship with the deity; that is the heart of all religion, and of sacrifice, but not the permutatio personarum (exchange of persons) and punishment."⁸

How did Bähr come up with this?

Unfortunately we are unable to supply an answer that is absolutely verifiable, but we do have a hunch.

The kind of notions like those Bähr defended above remind us of one of his older contemporaries, the German theologian F. Schleiermacher. He lived from 1768–1834, when the two volumes of Bähr’s work now under discussion appeared, in 1837 and 1839. Late enough to have been written under the influence of Schleiermacher. In the doctrinal system of this dogmatician there was little attention given to the justification of sinners on the basis of Christ’s substitutionary suffering and death, but more attention given to human sanctification through contact with God. The saving work of Christ consisted, according to Schleiermacher, in Christ including us within his powerful consciousness of God and in the fellowship of his undisrupted salvation. Logically this salvation of the sinner occurred first, followed by reconciliation between God and the sinner. What was needed first was to be included in the life-communion with Christ. In that sense he was our substitute. Justification consisted in the inclusion of a person in life-communion with Christ. Through this union with Christ, conversion was brought about. This converted individual was then justified, and received forgiveness. Christ’s voluntary surrender unto death was merely a proof of his readiness to include individuals in his life-communion.

We assume that there was affinity between Schleiermacher and Bähr. The latter would have been strongly influenced by the former. Regrettably so. For in his work on Israel’s worship according to the Torah, he constantly pointed to God’s holiness, and he never tired of pointing out to us in the Torah God’s aversion to death and his love for life. These features of his work were very helpful to us. But when we have to observe that according to Bähr, the forgiveness of sins came to expression symbolically through touch, through contact, through the fellowship of the blood that was sacrificed by the one bringing the offering and poured out by the priest, with such holy places of divine revelation as the altar, horns of the altar, and atonement covering, then we fear that Bähr’s otherwise clear insight in reading the Torah was clouded over by the teachings of Schleiermacher or something similar.

Even when he was alive, Bähr’s views were not universally accepted. In our commentary on Exodus, we saw this especially with respect to his views on the tabernacle. But what he wrote about Israel’s sacrificial ministry aroused still greater opposition.

The most famous opponent of Bähr’s explanations about Israel’s sacrifices was J. H. Kurtz (1809–90). He was well-known as a church historian. But he earned his stripes especially in the field of Old Testament interpretation. Of his numerous writings relevant to our discussion, we mention only the larger ones, viz., Sacrificial Worship of the Old Testament⁹ and Der Alttestamentliche Opferkultus nach seiner gesetzlichen Begründung und Anwendung (The Old Testament Sacrificial Worship according to its Legal Justification and Application).¹⁰ It was not that Kurtz had no appreciation for Bähr’s work on the Torah, since he often cites him with approval. But in one respect, and a very important one at that, he did not withhold his criticism. For Bähr had trivialized the death of the sacrificial animal. He had eliminated from the law of Moses the gospel of substitution, of the vicarious bearing of punishment and substitutionary death.

Naturally our readers would have noticed the great importance of this critique for our time as well. We are immediately drawn into this debate between Bähr and Kurtz. For we sense that this pertains to the death of Christ. Scripture is one, and the gospel is one. If according to the Old Testament, specifically, according to the Torah, there was no mention of a symbolic vicarious suffering and dying of the sacrificial animal for the one bringing the sacrifice, then according to the New Testament there would not have been a real suffering and dying of the sacrificial Lamb, Jesus Christ, for us.

In what follows, when we trace the dispute between Bähr and Kurtz with careful attention, we will do so not for entertainment, not even intellectual entertainment. We do consider the contest of minds stimulating, as we watch the well-formulated arguments of one scholar being wrestled with in the equally well-constructed arguments of another scholar. But what truly stimulates us is our own interest in the truth of the gospel as it has been taught to us from our youth: there is no peace with God except through the death of his Son.

From Kurtz we have some biographical information about Bähr. He tells us, for example, that he had expected the kind of discussion of Israel’s sacrifices as the one Bähr provided in his massive two-volume work. Or rather: he had feared such. For he had read an earlier essay by Bähr, entitled Die Lehre der Kirche vom Tode Jesu (The Teaching of the Church Concerning the Death of Jesus).¹¹ From that essay it became evident that Bähr had a certain antipathy toward the satisfaction theory of the atonement. What Kurtz feared was that Bähr’s antipathy toward the church’s teaching of Christ’s work of substitutionary atonement would play a role in his study of the Law, especially the Law’s teaching about sacrifice. Unfortunately his fear was realized. As a result of a particular doctrinal view of the work of Christ, the otherwise so clear and penetrating insight of Bähr did not see what, according to Kurtz, every unbiased reader of the Law had to notice: a satisfactio vicaria, or vicarious atonement.¹²

We mention the following points from Kurtz’s critique, though we have formulated them for the most part in our own words.

Bähr used Lev 17:11 in a completely mistaken way. It was not a problem that he called this verse the key to Moses’ teaching about sacrifice. But the context in which this verse appears must not be