The more closely we contemplate the offerings, the more fully do we
see how that no one offering furnishes a complete view of Christ. It
is only by putting all together that any thing like a just idea can be
formed. Each offering, as might be expected, has features peculiar to
itself. The peace-offering differs from the burnt-offering in many
points, and a clear understanding of the points in which any one type
differs from the others will be found to help much in the apprehension
of its special import.
Thus, in comparing the peace-offering with the burnt-offering, we find
that the threefold action of "flaying," "cutting it into its pieces,"
and "washing the inwards and legs" is entirely omitted: and this is
quite in character. In the burnt-offering, as we have seen, we find
Christ offering Himself to and accepted by God; and hence the
completeness of His self-surrender, and also the searching process to
which He submitted Himself, had to be typified. In the peace-offering,
the leading thought is the communion of the worshiper. It is not
Christ as enjoyed exclusively by God, but as enjoyed by the worshiper
in communion with God; therefore it is that the whole line of action
is less intense. No heart, be its love ever so elevated, could
possibly rise to the height of Christ's devotedness to God, or of
God's acceptance of Christ. None but God Himself could duly note the
pulsations of that heart which throbbed in the bosom of Jesus; and
therefore a type was needed to set forth that one feature of Christ's
death, namely, His perfect devotedness therein to God. This type we
have in the burnt-offering, in which alone we observe the threefold
action above referred to.
So also in reference to the character of the sacrifice. In the
burnt-offering, it should be "a male without blemish;" whereas in the
peace-offering, it might be "a male or female," though equally
"without blemish." The nature of Christ, whether we view Him as
enjoyed exclusively by God, or by the worshiper in fellowship with
God, must ever be one and the same; there can be no alteration in
that. The only reason why "a female" was permitted in the
peace-offering, was because it was a question of the worshiper's
capacity to enjoy that blessed One, who, in Himself, is "the same
yesterday, to-day, and forever." (Heb. xiii.)
Again, in the burnt-offering, we read, "The priest shall burn _all_;"
whereas in the peace-offering, _a part_ only was burnt, that is, "the
fat, the kidneys, and the caul." This makes it exceedingly simple. The
most excellent portion of the sacrifice was laid on God's altar. The
inward parts--the hidden energies--the tender sensibilities of the
blessed Jesus, were devoted to God, as the only One who could
perfectly enjoy them. Aaron and his sons fed upon "the wave breast"
and "the heave shoulder."[6] (See, carefully, Lev. vii. 28-36.) All
the members of the priestly family, in communion with their head, had
their proper portion of the peace-offering; and now, all true
believers constituted, by grace, priests unto God, can feed upon the
_affections_ and the _strength_ of the true Peace-offering,--can enjoy
the happy assurance of having His loving heart and powerful shoulder
to comfort and sustain them continually.[7] "This is the portion of
the anointing of Aaron, and of the anointing of his sons, out of the
offerings of the Lord made by fire, in the day when he presented them
to minister unto the Lord in the priest's office; which the Lord
commanded to be given them of the children of Israel, in the day that
He anointed them by a statute forever throughout their generations."
(Chap. vii. 35, 36.)
[6] The "breast" and the "shoulder" are emblematical of love and
power--strength and affection.
[7] There is much force and beauty in verse 31--"The breast shall be
Aaron's and his sons'." It is the privilege of all true believers to
feed upon the affections of Christ--the changeless love of that heart
which beats with a deathless and changeless love for them.
All these are important points of difference between the
burnt-offering and the peace-offering, and when taken together, they
set the two offerings with great clearness before the mind. There is
something more in the peace-offering than the abstract devotedness of
Christ to the will of God. The worshiper is introduced; and that not
merely as a spectator, but as a participator--not merely to gaze, but
to feed. This gives very marked character to this offering. When I
look at the Lord Jesus in the burnt-offering, I see Him as One whose
heart was devoted to the one object of glorifying God and
accomplishing His will; but when I see Him in the peace-offering, I
find One who has a place in His loving heart and on His powerful
shoulder for a worthless, helpless sinner. In the burnt-offering, the
breast and shoulder, legs and inwards, head and fat, were all burnt on
the altar--all went up as a sweet savor to God; but in the
peace-offering, the very portion that suits me is left for me. Nor am
I left to feed in solitude on that which meets my individual need. By
no means. I feed in communion--in communion with God, and in communion
with my fellow-priests. I feed in the full and happy intelligence that
the self-same sacrifice which feeds my soul has already refreshed the
heart of God; and, moreover, that the same portion which feeds me
feeds all my fellow-worshipers. Communion is the order
here,--communion with God--the communion of saints. There was no such
thing as isolation in the peace-offering. God had His portion, and so
had the priestly family.
Thus it is in connection with the Antitype of the peace-offering. The
very same Jesus who is the object of Heaven's delight, is the spring
of joy, of strength, and of comfort to every believing heart; and not
only to every heart in particular, but also to the whole church of God
in fellowship. God, in His exceeding grace, has given His people the
very same object that He has Himself. "Truly our fellowship is with
the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ." (1 John i.) True, our
thoughts of Jesus can never rise to the height of God's thoughts. Our
estimation of such an object must ever fall far short of His; and
hence, in the type, the house of Aaron could not partake of the fat.
But though we can never rise to the standard of the divine estimation
of Christ's Person and sacrifice, it is nevertheless the same object
we are occupied with, and therefore the house of Aaron had "the wave
breast and the heave shoulder." All this is replete with comfort and
joy to the heart. The Lord Jesus Christ, the One "who was dead, but is
alive for evermore," is now the exclusive object before the eye and
thoughts of God; and, in perfect grace, He has given unto us a portion
in the same blessed and all-glorious Person. Christ is our object
too--the object of our hearts and the theme of our song. "Having made
peace by the blood of His cross," He ascended into heaven, and sent
down the Holy Ghost, that "other Comforter," by whose powerful
ministrations we feed upon "the breast and shoulder" of our divine
"Peace-offering." He is indeed our peace; and it is our exceeding joy
to know that such is God's delight in the establishment of our peace,
that the sweet odor of our Peace-offering has refreshed His heart.
This imparts a peculiar charm to this type. Christ as the
Burnt-offering commands the admiration of the heart; Christ as the
Peace-offering establishes the peace of the conscience, and meets the
deep and manifold necessities of the soul. The sons of Aaron might
stand around the altar of burnt-offering; they might behold the flame
of that offering ascending to the God of Israel; they might see the
sacrifice reduced to ashes; they might, in view of all this, bow their
heads and worship; but they carried naught away for themselves. Not so
in the peace-offering. In it, they not only beheld that which was
capable of emitting a sweet odor to God, but also of yielding a most
substantial portion for themselves, on which they could feed in happy
and holy fellowship.
And, assuredly, it heightens the enjoyment of every true priest to
know that God (to use the language of our type) has had His portion
ere he gets the breast and the shoulder. The thought of this gives
tone and energy, unction and elevation, to the worship and communion;
it unfolds the amazing grace of Him who has given us the same object,
the same theme, the same joy with Himself. Nothing lower--nothing less
than this could satisfy Him. The Father will have the prodigal
feeding upon the fatted calf, in fellowship with Himself. He will not
assign him a lower place than at His own table, nor any other portion
than that on which He feeds Himself. The language of the
peace-offering is, "It is meet that _we_ should make merry and be
glad,"--"Let _us_ eat and be merry." Such is the precious grace of
God! No doubt we have reason to be glad, as being the partakers of
such grace; but when we can hear the blessed God saying, "Let _us_ eat
and be merry," it should call forth from our hearts a continual stream
of praise and thanksgiving. God's joy in the salvation of sinners, and
His joy in the communion of saints, may well elicit the admiration of
men and angels throughout eternity.
Having thus compared the peace-offering with the burnt-offering, we
may now briefly glance at it in connection with the meat-offering. The
leading point of difference here is, that in the peace-offering there
was blood-shedding, and in the meat-offering there was not. They were
both "sweet savor" offerings; and, as we learn from chap. vii. 12, the
two offerings were very intimately associated. Now, both the
connection and the contrast are full of meaning and instruction.
It is only in communion with God that the soul can delight itself in
contemplating the perfect humanity of the Lord Jesus Christ. God the
Holy Ghost must _impart_, as He must also _direct_, by the Word, the
vision by which we can gaze on "the Man Christ Jesus." He might have
been revealed "in the likeness of sinful flesh,"--He might have lived
and labored on this earth,--He might have shone amid the darkness of
this world in all the heavenly lustre and beauty which belonged to His
Person,--He might have passed rapidly, like a brilliant luminary,
across this world's horizon,--and all the while have been beyond the
range of the sinner's vision.
Man could not enter into the deep joy of communion with all this,
simply because there would be no basis laid down on which this
communion might rest. In the peace-offering, this necessary basis is
fully and clearly established.--"He shall lay his hand upon the head
of his offering, and kill it at the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation: and Aaron's sons, the priests, shall sprinkle the blood
upon the altar round about." (Chap. iii. 2.) Here, we have that which
the meat-offering does not supply, namely, a solid foundation for the
worshiper's communion with all the fullness, the preciousness, and the
beauty of Christ, so far as he, by the gracious energy of the Holy
Ghost, is enabled to enter thereinto. Standing on the platform which
"the precious blood of Christ" provides, we can range, with
tranquilized hearts and worshiping spirits, throughout all the
wondrous scenes of the manhood of the Lord Jesus Christ. Had we naught
save the meat-offering aspect of Christ, we should lack the title by
which, and the ground on which, we can contemplate and enjoy Him
therein. If there were no blood-shedding, there could be no title--no
standing-place for the sinner. But Leviticus vii. 12 links the
meat-offering with the peace-offering, and, by so doing, teaches us,
that, when our souls have found peace, we can delight in the One who
has "made peace," and who is "our peace."
But let it be distinctly understood that while in the peace-offering
we have the shedding and sprinkling of blood, yet sin-bearing is not
the thought. When we view Christ in the peace-offering, He does not
stand before us as the bearer of our sins, as in the sin and trespass
offerings, but (having borne them) as the ground of our peaceful and
happy fellowship with God. If sin-bearing were in question, it could
not be said, "It is an offering made by fire, of a sweet savor unto
the Lord." (Chap. iii. 5, comp. with chap. iv. 10-12.) Still, though
sin-bearing is not the thought, there is full provision for one who
knows himself to be a sinner, else he could not have any portion
therein. To have fellowship with God, we must be "in the light;" and
how can we be there? Only on the ground of that precious
statement--"The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from _all_
sin." (1 John i.) The more we abide in the light, the deeper will be
our sense of every thing which is contrary to that light; and the
deeper, also, our sense of the value of that blood which entitles us
to be there. The more closely we walk with God, the more we shall know
of "the unsearchable riches of Christ."
It is most needful to be established in the truth that we are in the
presence of God only as the partakers of divine life, and as standing
in divine righteousness. The father could only have the prodigal at
his table clothed in "the best robe," and in all the integrity of that
relationship in which he viewed him. Had the prodigal been left in his
rags, or placed "as a hired servant" in the house, we never should
have heard those glorious words, "Let us eat and be merry: for this
_my son_ was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found."
Thus it is with all true believers. Their old nature is not recognized
as existing before God. He counts it dead, and so should they. It is
dead to God, dead to faith. It must be kept in the place of death. It
is not by improving our old nature that we get into the divine
presence, but as the possessors of a new nature. It was not by
repairing the rags of his former condition that the prodigal got a
place at the father's table, but by being clothed in a robe which he
had never seen or thought of before. He did not bring this robe with
him from the "far country," neither did he provide it as he came
along; but the father had it for him in the house. The prodigal did
not make it, or help to make it; but the father provided it for him,
and rejoiced to see it on him. Thus it was they sat down together, to
feed in happy fellowship upon "the fatted calf."
I shall now proceed to quote at length "the law of the sacrifice of
peace-offering," in which we shall find some additional points of much
interest--points which belong peculiarly to itself.--"And this is the
law of the sacrifice of peace-offerings, which he shall offer unto
the Lord: If he offer it for a thanksgiving, then he shall offer with
the sacrifice of thanksgiving unleavened cakes mingled with oil, and
unleavened wafers anointed with oil, and cakes mingled with oil, of
fine flour, fried. Besides the cakes, he shall offer for his offering
leavened bread with the sacrifice of thanksgiving of his
peace-offerings. And of it he shall offer one out of the whole
oblation for a heave-offering unto the Lord, and it shall be the
priest's that sprinkleth the blood of the peace-offerings. And the
flesh of the sacrifice of his peace-offerings for thanksgiving shall
be eaten the same day that it is offered; he shall not leave any of it
until the morning. But if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow, or a
voluntary offering, it shall be eaten the same day that he offereth
his sacrifice; and on the morrow also the remainder of it shall be
eaten; but the remainder of the flesh of the sacrifice on the third
day shall be burnt with fire. And if any of the flesh of the sacrifice
of his peace-offerings be eaten at all on the third day, it shall not
be accepted, neither shall it be imputed unto him that offereth it: it
shall be an abomination, and the soul that eateth of it shall bear his
iniquity. And the flesh that toucheth any unclean thing shall not be
eaten; it shall be burnt with fire: and as for the flesh, all that be
clean shall eat thereof. But the soul that eateth of the flesh of the
sacrifice of peace-offerings, that pertain unto the Lord, having his
uncleanness upon him, even that soul shall be cut off from his people.
Moreover the soul that shall touch any unclean thing, as the
uncleanness of man, or any unclean beast, or any abominable unclean
thing, and eat of the flesh of the sacrifice of peace-offerings, which
pertain unto the Lord, even that soul shall be cut off from his
people." (Lev. vii. 11-21.)
It is of the utmost importance that we accurately distinguish between
sin _in the flesh_ and sin _on the conscience_. If we confound these
two, our souls must necessarily be unhinged, and our worship marred.
An attentive consideration of 1 John i. 8-10 will throw much light
upon this subject, the understanding of which is so essential to a due
appreciation of the entire doctrine of the peace-offering, and more
especially of that point therein at which we have now arrived. There
is no one who will be so conscious of indwelling sin as the man who
walks in the light. "If we say that we have _no sin_, we deceive
ourselves, and the truth is not in us." In the verse immediately
preceding, we read, "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us
from _all sin_." Here, the distinction between sin _in_ us and sin
_on_ us is fully brought out and established. To say that there is sin
on the believer, in the presence of God, is to call in question the
purging efficacy of the blood of Jesus, and to deny the truth of the
divine record. If the blood of Jesus can perfectly purge, then the
believer's conscience is perfectly purged. The Word of God thus puts
the matter; and we must ever remember that it is from God Himself we
are to learn what the true condition of the believer is in His sight.
We are more disposed to be occupied in telling God what we are in
ourselves, than to allow Him to tell us what we are in Christ. In
other words, we are more taken up with our own self-consciousness than
with God's revelation of Himself. God speaks to us on the ground of
what He is in Himself, and of what He has accomplished in Christ. Such
is the nature and character of His revelation, of which faith takes
hold, and thus fills the soul with perfect peace. God's revelation is
one thing; my consciousness is quite another.
But the same Word which tells us we have no sin _on_ us, tells us,
with equal force and clearness, that we have sin _in_ us. "If we say
that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in
us." Every one who has "truth" in him, will know that he has "_sin_"
in him likewise; for truth reveals every thing as it is. What, then,
are we to do? It is our privilege so to walk in the power of the new
nature, that the "_sin_" which dwells in us may not manifest itself in
the form of "_sins_." The Christian's position is one of victory and
liberty. He is not only delivered from the guilt of sin, but also from
sin as a ruling principle in his life. "Knowing this, that our old man
is crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that
henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from
sin.... Let not sin therefore _reign_ in your mortal body, that ye
should _obey_ it in the lusts thereof.... For sin shall not have
dominion over you; for ye are not under the law, but under grace."
(Rom. vi. 6-14.) Sin is there in all its native vileness; but the
believer is "dead to it." How? He died in Christ. By nature, he was
dead _in_ sin: by grace, he is dead _to_ it. What claim can any thing
or any one have upon a dead man? None whatever. Christ "died unto sin
once," and the believer died in Him. "Now if we be dead with Christ,
we believe that we shall also live with Him: knowing that Christ being
raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over
Him. For in that He died, He died unto sin once; but in that He
liveth, He liveth unto God." What is the result of this in reference
to believers? "_Likewise_ reckon ye also yourselves to be _dead indeed
unto sin_, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Such is
the believer's unalterable position before God! so that it is his holy
privilege to enjoy freedom from sin as a _ruler_ over him, though it
be a _dweller_ in him.
But then, "if any man sin," what is to be done? The inspired apostle
furnishes a full and most blessed answer,--"If we confess our sins, He
is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from
all unrighteousness." (1 John i. 9.) Confession is the mode in which
the conscience is to be kept free. The apostle does not say, If we
pray for pardon, He is gracious and merciful to forgive us. No doubt
it is ever happy for a child to breathe the sense of need into his
father's ear--to tell him of feebleness, to confess folly, infirmity,
and failure. All this is most true; and, moreover, it is equally true
that our Father is most gracious and merciful to meet His children in
all their weakness and ignorance; but, while all this is true, the
Holy Ghost declares, by the apostle, that "if we _confess_," God is
"_faithful_ and _just_ to forgive." Confession, therefore, is the
divine mode. A Christian, having erred, in thought, word, or deed,
might pray for pardon for days and months together, and not have any
assurance, from 1 John i. 9, that he was forgiven; whereas the moment
he truly confesses his sin before God, it is a simple matter of faith
to know that he is perfectly forgiven and perfectly cleansed.
There is an immense moral difference between praying for forgiveness
and confessing our sins, whether we look at it in reference to the
character of God, the sacrifice of Christ, or the condition of the
soul. It is quite possible that a person's prayer may involve the
confession of his sin, whatever it may happen to be, and thus come to
the same thing; but then it is always well to keep close to Scripture
in what we think and say and do. It must be evident that when the Holy
Ghost speaks of _confession_, He does not mean _praying_; and it is
equally evident that He knows there are moral elements in, and
practical results flowing out of, confession, which do not belong to
prayer. In point of fact, one has often found that a habit of
importuning God for the forgiveness of sins displayed ignorance as to
the way in which God has revealed Himself in the Person and work of
Christ, as to the relation in which the sacrifice of Christ has set
the believer, and as to the divine mode of getting the conscience
relieved from the burden and purified from the soil of sin.
God has been perfectly satisfied as to all the believer's sins in the
cross of Christ. On that cross, a full atonement was presented for
every jot and tittle of sin in the believer's nature and on his
conscience. Hence, therefore, God does not need any further
propitiation. He does not need aught to draw His heart toward the
believer. We do not require to supplicate Him to be "faithful and
just," when His faithfulness and justice have been so gloriously
displayed, vindicated, and answered in the death of Christ. Our sins
can never come into God's presence, inasmuch as Christ, who bore them
all and put them away, is there instead. But if we sin, conscience
will feel it--must feel it,--yea, the Holy Ghost will make us feel it.
He cannot allow so much as a single light thought to pass unjudged.
What then? Has our sin made its way into the presence of God? Has it
found its place in the unsullied light of the inner sanctuary? God
forbid! The "Advocate" is there--"Jesus Christ the righteous," to
maintain, in unbroken integrity, the relationship in which we stand.
But though sin cannot affect God's thoughts in reference to us, it can
and does affect our thoughts in reference to Him;[8] though it cannot
make its way into His presence, it can make its way into ours, in a
most distressing and humiliating manner; though it cannot hide the
Advocate from God's view, it can hide Him from ours. It gathers, like
a thick, dark cloud, on our spiritual horizon, so that our souls
cannot bask in the blessed beams of our Father's countenance. It
cannot affect our relationship with God, but it can very seriously
affect our enjoyment thereof. What, therefore, are we to do? The Word
answers, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive
us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." By
confession, we get our conscience cleared, the sweet sense of
relationship restored, the dark cloud dispersed, the chilling,
withering influence removed, our thoughts of God set straight. Such is
the divine method; and we may truly say that the heart that knows what
it is to have ever been in the place of confession, will feel the
divine power of the apostle's words--"My little children, these things
write I unto you, THAT YE SIN NOT." (1 John ii. 1.)
[8] The reader will bear in mind that the subject treated of in the
text leaves wholly untouched the important and most practical truth
taught in John xiv. 21-23, namely, the peculiar love of the Father for
an obedient child, and the special communion of such a child with the
Father and the Son. May this truth be written on all our hearts, by
the pen of God the Holy Ghost!
Then, again, there is a style of praying for forgiveness which
involves a losing sight of the perfect ground of forgiveness which has
been laid in the sacrifice of the cross. If God forgives sins, He must
be "faithful and just" in so doing; but it is quite clear that our
prayers, be they ever so sincere and earnest, could not form the basis
of God's faithfulness and justice in forgiving us our sins. Naught
save the work of the cross could do this. There, the faithfulness and
justice of God have had their fullest establishment, and that, too,
in immediate reference to our actual sins, as well as to the root
thereof in our nature. God has already judged our sins in the Person
of our Substitute "on the tree;" and, in the act of confession, we
judge ourselves. This is essential to divine forgiveness and
restoration. The very smallest unconfessed, unjudged sin on the
conscience will entirely mar our communion with God. Sin _in_ us need
not do this; but if we suffer sin to remain _on_ us, we cannot have
fellowship with God. He has put away our sins in such a manner as that
He can have us in His presence; and so long as we abide in His
presence, sin does not trouble us; but if we get out of His presence,
and commit sin, even in thought, our communion must, of necessity, be
suspended, until, by confession, we have got rid of the sin. All this,
I need hardly add, is founded exclusively upon the perfect sacrifice
and righteous advocacy of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Finally, as to the difference between prayer and confession, as
respects the condition of the heart before God, and its moral sense of
the hatefulness of sin, it cannot possibly be over-estimated. It is a
much easier thing to ask, in a general way, for the forgiveness of our
sins than to confess those sins. Confession involves _self-judgment_;
asking for forgiveness may not, and, in itself, does not. This alone
would be sufficient to point out the difference. Self-judgment is one
of the most valuable and healthful exercises of the Christian life,
and therefore any thing which produces it must be highly esteemed by
every earnest Christian.
The difference between asking for pardon and confessing the sin is
continually exemplified in dealing with children. If a child has done
any thing wrong, he finds much less difficulty in asking his father to
forgive him than in openly and unreservedly confessing the wrong. In
asking for forgiveness, the child may have in his mind a number of
things which tend to lessen the sense of the evil,--he may be secretly
thinking that he was not so much to blame after all, though, to be
sure, it is only proper to ask his father to forgive him; whereas, in
confessing the wrong, there is just the one thing, and that is,
self-judgment. Further, in asking for forgiveness, the child may be
influenced mainly by a desire to escape the consequences of his wrong;
whereas, a judicious parent will seek to produce a just sense of its
moral evil, which can only exist in connection with the full
confession of the fault--in connection with self-judgment.
Thus it is, in reference to God's dealings with His children when they
do wrong. He must have the whole thing brought out and thoroughly
judged. He will make us not only dread the consequences of sin (which
are unutterable), but hate the thing itself, because of its
hatefulness in His sight. Were it possible for us, when we commit sin,
to be forgiven merely for the asking, our sense of sin and our
shrinking from it would not be nearly so intense, and, as a
consequence, our estimate of the fellowship with which we are blessed
would not be nearly so high. The moral effect of all this upon the
general tone of our spiritual constitution, and also upon our whole
character and practical career, must be obvious to every experienced
Christian.[9]
[9] The case of Simon Magus, in Acts viii, may present a difficulty to
the reader. But of him, it is sufficient to say that one "in the gall
of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity" could never be set forth as
a model for God's dear children. His case in no wise interferes with
the doctrine of 1 John i. 9. He was not in the relationship of a
child, and, as a consequence, not a subject of the advocacy. I would
further add, that the subject of the Lord's prayer is by no means
involved in what is stated above. I wish to confine myself to the
immediate passage under consideration. We must ever avoid laying down
iron rules. A soul may cry to God under any circumstances, and ask for
what it needs: He is ever ready to hear and answer.
This entire train of thought is intimately connected with, and fully
borne out by, two leading principles laid down in "the law of the
peace-offering."
In verse 13 of the seventh of Leviticus we read, "He shall offer for
his offering _leavened_ bread;" and yet at verse 20 we read, "But the
soul that eateth of the flesh of the sacrifice of peace-offerings,
that pertain unto the Lord, having his uncleanness _upon_ him, even
that soul shall be cut off from his people." Here, we have the two
things clearly set before us, namely, sin _in_ us and sin _on_ us.
"Leaven" was permitted, because there was sin in the worshiper's
nature: "uncleanness" was forbidden, because there should be no sin on
the worshiper's conscience. If sin be in question, communion must be
out of the question. God has met and provided for the sin, which He
knows to be in us, by the blood of atonement; and hence, of the
leavened bread in the peace-offering, we read, "Of it he shall offer
one out of the whole oblation for a heave offering unto the Lord, and
it shall be _the priest's that sprinkleth the blood of the
peace-offerings_." (Ver. 14.) In other words, the "leaven" in the
worshiper's nature was perfectly met by the "blood" of the sacrifice.
The priest who gets the leavened bread must be the sprinkler of the
blood. God has put our sin out of His sight forever. Though it be in
us, it is not the object on which His eye rests. He sees only the
blood, and therefore He can go on with us, and allow us the most
unhindered fellowship with Him. But if we allow the "_sin_" which is
in us to develop itself in the shape of "_sins_," there must be
confession, forgiveness, and cleansing ere we can again eat of the
flesh of the Peace-offering. The cutting off of the worshiper because
of ceremonial uncleanness, answers to the suspension of the believer's
communion now because of unconfessed sin. To attempt to have
fellowship with God in our sins would involve the blasphemous
insinuation that He could walk in companionship with sin. "If we say
that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do
not the truth." (1 John i. 6.)
In the light of the foregoing line of truth, we may easily see how
much we err when we imagine it to be a mark of spirituality to be
occupied with our sins. Could sin or sins ever be the ground or
material of our communion with God? Assuredly not. We have just seen
that, so long as sin is the object before us, communion must be
interrupted. Fellowship can only be "in the light;" and, undoubtedly,
there is no sin in the light. There is naught to be seen there save
the blood which has put our sins away and brought us nigh, and the
Advocate which keeps us nigh. Sin has been forever obliterated from
that platform on which God and the worshiper stand in hallowed
fellowship. What was it which constituted the material of communion
between the father and the prodigal? Was it the rags of the latter?
Was it the husks of "the far country"? By no means. It was not any
thing that the prodigal brought with him: it was the rich provision of
the father's love--"the fatted calf." Thus it is with God and every
true worshiper. They feed together, in holy and elevated communion,
upon Him whose precious blood has brought them into everlasting
association, in that light to which no sin can ever approach.
Nor need we, for an instant, suppose that true humility is either
evidenced or promoted by looking at or dwelling upon our sins. An
unhallowed and melancholy mopishness may thus be superinduced; but the
deepest humility springs from a totally different source. Whether was
the prodigal a humbler man "when he came to himself" in the far
country, or when he came to the father's bosom and the father's house?
Is it not evident that the grace which elevates us to the loftiest
heights of fellowship with God is that alone which leads us into the
most profound depths of a genuine humility? Unquestionably. The
humility which springs from the removal of our sins must ever be
deeper than that which springs from the discovery of them. The former
connects us with God: the latter has to do with self. The way to be
truly humble is to walk with God in the intelligence and power of the
relationship in which He has set us. He has made us His children; and
if only we walk as such, we shall be humble.
Ere leaving this part of our subject, I would offer a remark as to the
Lord's Supper, which, as being a prominent act of the Church's
communion, may, with strict propriety, be looked at in connection with
the doctrine of the peace-offering. The intelligent celebration of the
Lord's Supper must ever depend upon the recognition of its purely
eucharistic or thanksgiving character. It is very especially a feast
of thanksgiving--thanksgiving for an accomplished redemption. "The cup
of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of
Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body
of Christ?" (1 Cor. x. 16.) Hence, a soul bowed down under the heavy
burden of sin cannot, with spiritual intelligence, eat the Lord's
Supper, inasmuch as that feast is expressive of the complete removal
of sin by the death of Christ.--"Ye do show the Lord's death till He
come." (1 Cor. xi.) In the death of Christ, faith sees the end of
every thing that pertained to our old-creation standing; and seeing
that the Lord's Supper "shows forth" that death, it is to be viewed as
the memento of the glorious fact that the believer's burden of sin was
borne by One who put it away forever. It declares that the chain of
our sins, which once tied and bound us, has been eternally snapped by
the death of Christ, and can never tie and bind us again. We gather
round the Lord's table in all the joy of conquerors. We look back to
the cross, where the battle was fought and won; and we look forward to
the glory, where we shall enter into the full and eternal results of
the victory.
True, we have "leaven" _in_ us; but we have no "uncleanness" _on_ us.
We are not to gaze upon our sins, but upon Him who bore them on the
cross and put them away forever. We are not to "deceive ourselves" by
the vain notion "that we have no sin" in us; nor are we to deny the
truth of God's Word, and the efficacy of Christ's blood, by refusing
to rejoice in the precious truth that we have no sin on us, for "the
blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin." It is truly
deplorable to observe the heavy cloud that gathers round the Supper of
the Lord, in the judgment of so many professing Christians. It tends,
as much as any thing else, to reveal the immense amount of
misapprehension which obtains in reference to the very elementary
truths of the gospel. In fact, we know that when the Lord's Supper is
resorted to on any ground save that of known salvation--enjoyed
forgiveness--conscious deliverance, the soul becomes wrapped up in
thicker and darker mists than ever. That which is only a memorial of
Christ is used to displace Him,--that which celebrates an accomplished
redemption is used as a stepping-stone thereto. It is thus that the
ordinances are abused, and souls plunged in darkness, confusion, and
error.
How different from this is the beautiful ordinance of the
peace-offering! In this latter, looked at in its typical import, we
see that the moment the blood was shed, God and the worshiper could
feed in happy, peaceful fellowship. Nothing more was needed. Peace was
established by the blood, and on that ground the communion proceeded.
A single question as to the establishment of peace must be the
death-blow to communion. If we are to be occupied with the vain
attempt to make peace with God, we must be total strangers to either
communion or worship. If the blood of the peace-offering has not been
shed, it is impossible that we can feed upon "the wave breast" or "the
heave shoulder." But if, on the other hand, the blood has been shed,
then peace is made already. God Himself has made it, and this is
enough for faith; and therefore, by faith, we have fellowship with
God, in the intelligence and joy of accomplished redemption. We taste
the freshness of God's own joy in that which He has wrought. We feed
upon Christ in all the fullness and blessedness of God's presence.
This latter point is connected with and based upon another leading
truth laid down in "the law of the peace-offering."--"And the flesh
of the sacrifice of his peace-offerings for thanksgiving shall be
eaten the same day that it is offered: he shall not leave any of it
until the morning." That is to say, the communion of the worshiper
must never be separated from the sacrifice on which that communion is
founded. So long as one has spiritual energy to maintain the
connection, the worship and communion are also maintained, in
freshness and acceptableness; but no longer. _We must keep close to
the Sacrifice_, in the spirit of our minds, the affections of our
hearts, and the experience of our souls. This will impart power and
permanency to our worship. We may commence some act or expression of
worship with our hearts in immediate occupation with Christ, and ere
we reach the close we may become occupied with what we are doing or
saying, or with the persons who are listening to us, and, in this way,
fall into what may be termed "iniquity in our holy things." This is
deeply solemn, and should make us very watchful. We may begin our
worship in the Spirit and end in the flesh. Our care should ever be,
not to suffer ourselves to proceed for a single moment beyond the
energy of the Spirit, at the time; for the Spirit will always keep us
occupied directly with Christ. If the Holy Ghost produces "five words"
of worship or thanksgiving, let us utter the five and have done. If we
proceed further, we are eating the flesh of our sacrifice beyond the
time; and, so far from its being "accepted," it is really "an
abomination." Let us remember this, and be watchful. It need not
alarm us. God would have us led by the Spirit, and so filled with
Christ in all our worship. He can only accept of that which is divine,
and therefore He would have us presenting that only which is divine.
"But if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow or a
voluntary-offering, it shall be eaten the same day that he offereth
his sacrifice: and _on the morrow also the remainder of it shall be
eaten_." (Chap. vii. 16.) When the soul goes forth to God in a
voluntary act of worship, such worship will be the result of a larger
measure of spiritual energy than where it merely springs from some
special mercy experienced at the time. If one had been visited with
some marked favor from the Lord's own hand, the soul at once ascends
in thanksgiving. In this case, the worship is awakened by and
connected with that favor or mercy, whatever it may happen to be, and
there it ends; but where the heart is led forth by the Holy Ghost in
some voluntary or deliberate expression of praise, it will be of a
more enduring character. But spiritual worship will always connect
itself with the precious sacrifice of Christ.
"The remainder of the flesh of the sacrifice, on the third day, shall
be burnt with fire. And if any of the flesh of the sacrifice of his
peace-offerings be eaten at all on the third day, it shall not be
accepted, neither shall it be imputed unto him that offereth it: it
shall be an abomination, and the soul that eateth of it shall bear his
iniquity." Nothing is of any value, in the judgment of God, which is
not immediately connected with Christ. There may be a great deal of
what looks like worship, which is, after all, the mere excitement and
outgoing of natural feeling; there may be much apparent devotion,
which is merely fleshly pietism. Nature may be acted upon, in a
religious way, by a variety of things, such as pomp, ceremony, and
parade, tones and attitudes, robes and vestments, an eloquent liturgy,
all the varied attractions of a splendid ritualism, while there may be
a total absence of spiritual worship. Yea, it not unfrequently happens
that the very same tastes and tendencies which are called forth and
gratified by the splendid appliances of so-called religious worship,
would find most suited aliment at the opera or in the concert-room.
All this has to be watched against by those who desire to remember
that "God is a spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in
spirit and in truth." (John iv.) Religion, so called, is, at this
moment, decking herself with her most powerful charms. Casting off the
grossness of the middle ages, she is calling to her aid all the
resources of refined taste, and of a cultivated and enlightened age.
Sculpture, music, and painting are pouring their rich treasures into
her lap, in order that she may therewith prepare a powerful opiate to
lull the thoughtless multitude into a slumber, which shall only be
broken in upon by the unutterable horrors of death, judgment, and the
lake of fire. She, too, can say, "I have _peace-offerings_ with me;
this day have I paid my _vows_.... I have decked my bed with
coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt. I
have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon." (Prov. vii.)
Thus does corrupt religion allure, by her powerful influence, those
who will not hearken to Wisdom's heavenly voice.
Reader, beware of all this. See that your worship stands inseparably
connected with the work of the cross. See that Christ is the ground,
Christ the material, and the Holy Ghost the power of your worship.
Take care that your outward act of worship does not stretch itself
beyond the inward power. It demands much watchfulness to keep clear of
this evil. Its incipient workings are most difficult to be detected
and counteracted. We may commence a hymn in the true spirit of
worship, and, through lack of spiritual power, we may, ere we reach
the close, fall into the evil which answers to the ceremonial act of
eating the flesh of the peace-offering on the third day. Our only
security is in keeping close to Jesus. If we lift up our hearts in
"thanksgiving" for some special mercy, let us do so in the power of
the name and sacrifice of Christ. If our souls go forth in "voluntary"
worship, let it be in the energy of the Holy Ghost. In this way shall
our worship exhibit that freshness, that fragrance, that depth of
tone, that moral elevation, which must result from having the Father
as the object, the Son as the ground, and the Holy Ghost as the power
of our worship.[10]
[10] The statement in the text affords no warrant for the idea that
our Lord Jesus Christ is not, equally with the Father, the object of
worship. We utterly abhor and reject such a blasphemy.
Let the reader turn to John v. 23--"That all men should honor the Son,
even as they honor the Father. He that honoreth not the Son honoreth
not the Father which hath sent Him." How can any one, in the face of
such a passage as this, attempt to teach that it is wrong to present
worship to the Lord Jesus? Woe be to the man who so teaches! He is
plainly at issue with God.
Again, look at Rev. v. 12--"Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to
receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and
glory, and blessing." What mean these words if our Lord Jesus Christ
is not to be addressed in prayer or worship?
Was the martyr, Stephen, wrong when he said, "Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit"? Was Paul mistaken when he besought the Lord to remove the
thorn?
But it is needless to multiply passages: the teaching of the inspired
volume, from cover to cover, establishes, beyond all question, the
rightness of presenting prayer and worship to our Lord Jesus Christ;
and therefore all who teach otherwise are in direct opposition to the
Word of God.
Thus may it be, O Lord, with all Thy worshiping people, until we find
ourselves--body, soul, and spirit--in the security of Thine own
eternal presence, beyond the reach of all the unhallowed influences of
false worship and corrupt religion, and also beyond the reach of the
various hindrances which arise from these bodies of sin and death
which we carry about with us!
* * * * *
NOTE.--It is interesting to observe that although the peace-offering
itself stands third in order, yet "the law" thereof is given us last
of all. This circumstance is not without its import. There is none of
the offerings in which the communion of the worshiper is so fully
unfolded as in the peace-offering. In the burnt-offering, it is Christ
offering Himself to God. In the meat-offering, we have Christ's
perfect humanity. Then, passing on to the sin-offering, we learn that
_sin_, in its root, is fully met. In the trespass-offering, there is a
full answer to the actual _sins_, in the life. But in none is the
doctrine of the communion of the worshiper unfolded. This latter
belongs to "the peace-offering;" and hence, I believe, the position
which the law of that offering occupies. It comes in at the close of
all, thereby teaching us that, when it becomes a question of the
soul's feeding upon Christ, it must be a full Christ,--looked at in
every possible phase of His life, His character, His Person, His work,
His offices; and, furthermore, that, when we shall have done forever
with sin and sins, we shall delight in Christ, and feed upon Him,
throughout the everlasting ages. It would, I believe, be a serious
defect in our study of the offerings were we to pass over a
circumstance so worthy of notice as the above. If "the law of the
peace-offering" were given in the order in which the offering itself
occurs, it would come in immediately after the law of the
meat-offering; but instead of that, "the law of the sin-offering" and
"the law of the trespass-offering" are given, and then "the law of the
peace-offering" closes the entire.