CHAPTER IV.-V. 13

Having considered the "sweet savor" offerings, we now approach the

"sacrifices for sin." These were divided into two classes, namely,

sin-offerings and trespass-offerings. Of the former, there were three

grades; first, the offering for "the priest that is anointed," and for

"the whole congregation." These two were the same in their rites and

ceremonies. (Compare ver. 3-12 with ver. 13-21.) It was the same in

result, whether it were the representative of the assembly or the

assembly itself that sinned. In either case there were three things

involved,--God's dwelling-place in the assembly, the worship of the

assembly, and individual conscience. Now, inasmuch as all three

depended upon the blood, we find, in the first grade of sin-offering,

there were three things done with the blood. It was sprinkled "seven

times before the Lord, _before the vail of the sanctuary_." This

secured Jehovah's relationship with the people, and His dwelling in

their midst. Again, we read, "The priest shall put some of the blood

upon the horns of the altar of sweet incense before the Lord, which is

in the tabernacle of the congregation." This secured the worship of

the assembly. By putting the blood upon "the golden altar," the true

basis of worship was preserved; so that the flame of the incense and

the fragrance thereof might continually ascend. Finally, "He shall

pour all the blood of the bullock at the bottom of the altar of the

burnt-offering, which is at the door of the tabernacle of the

congregation." Here, we have the claims of individual conscience fully

answered; for the brazen altar was the place of individual

approach,--it was the place where God met the sinner.

In the two remaining grades--for "a ruler" or "one of the common

people," it was merely a question of individual conscience, and

therefore there was only one thing done with the blood,--it was all

poured "at the bottom of the altar of burnt-offering." (Comp. ver. 7

with ver. 25, 30.) There is divine precision in all this, which

demands the close attention of my reader, if only he desires to enter

into the marvelous detail of this type.[11]

[11] There is this difference between the offering for "a ruler" and

for "one of the common people:" in the former, it was "a _male_

without blemish;" in the latter, "a _female_ without blemish." The sin

of a ruler would necessarily exert a wider influence than that of a

common person, and therefore a more powerful application of the value

of the blood was needed. In chapter v. 13, we find cases demanding a

still lower application of the sin-offering--cases of swearing, and of

touching any uncleanness, in which "the tenth part of an ephah of fine

flour" was admitted as a sin-offering. (See chap. v. 11-13.) What a

contrast between the view of atonement presented by a ruler's bullock

and a poor man's handful of flour! And yet, in the latter, just as

truly as in the former, we read, "It shall be forgiven him."

The reader will observe that chapter v. 1-13 forms a part of chapter

iv. Both are comprehended under one head, and present the doctrine of

the sin-offering in all its applications, from the bullock to the

handful of flour. Each class of offering is introduced by the words,

"And the Lord spake unto Moses." Thus, for example, the sweet savor

offerings (chap. i.-iii.) are introduced by the words, "The Lord

called unto Moses." These words are not repeated until chapter iv. 1,

where they introduce the sin-offering. They occur again at chapter v.

14, where they introduce the trespass-offering for wrongs done "in the

holy things of the Lord;" and again at chapter vi. 1, where they

introduce the trespass-offering for wrongs done to one's neighbor.

This classification is beautifully simple, and will help the reader to

understand the different classes of offering. As to the different

grades in each class, whether "a bullock," "a ram," "a female," "a

bird," or "a handful of flour," they would seem to be so many varied

applications of the same grand truth.

The effect of individual sin could not extend beyond individual

conscience. The sin of "a ruler," or of "one of the common people,"

could not, in its influence, reach "the altar of incense"--the place

of priestly worship; neither could it reach to "the vail of the

sanctuary"--the sacred boundary of God's dwelling-place in the midst

of His people. It is well to ponder this. We must never raise a

question of personal sin or failure in the place of priestly worship

or in the assembly; it must be settled in the place of personal

approach. Many err as to this. They come into the assembly, or into

the ostensible place of priestly worship, with their conscience

defiled, and thus drag down the whole assembly and mar its worship.

This should be closely looked into, and carefully guarded against. We

need to walk more watchfully, in order that our conscience may ever be

in the light. And when we fail, (as, alas! we do in many things,) let

us have to do with God in secret about our failure, in order that true

worship and the true position of the assembly may always be kept with

fullness and clearness before the soul.

Having said thus much as to the three grades of sin-offering, we shall

proceed to examine, in detail, the principles unfolded in the first of

these. In so doing, we shall be able to form, in some measure, a just

conception of the principles of all. Before, however, entering upon

the direct comparison already proposed, I would call my reader's

attention to a very prominent point set forth in the second verse of

this fourth chapter; it is contained in the expression, "If a soul

shall sin through _ignorance_." This presents a truth of the deepest

blessedness, in connection with the atonement of the Lord Jesus

Christ. In contemplating that atonement, we see infinitely more than

the mere satisfaction of the claims of conscience, even though that

conscience had reached the highest point of refined sensibility. It is

our privilege to see therein that which has fully satisfied all the

claims of divine holiness, divine justice, and divine majesty. The

holiness of God's dwelling-place, and the ground of His association

with His people, could never be regulated by the standard of man's

conscience, no matter how high the standard might be. There are many

things which man's conscience would pass over--many things which might

escape man's cognizance--many things which his heart might deem all

right, which God could not tolerate; and which, as a consequence,

would interfere with man's approach to, his worship of, and his

relationship with God. Wherefore, if the atonement of Christ merely

made provision for such sins as come within the compass of man's

apprehension, we should find ourselves very far short of the true

ground of peace. We need to understand that sin has been atoned for,

according to God's measurement thereof--that the claims of His throne

have been perfectly answered--that sin, as seen in the light of His

inflexible holiness, has been divinely judged. This is what gives

settled peace to the soul. A full atonement has been made for the

believer's sins of ignorance, as well as for his known sins. The

sacrifice of Christ lays the foundation of his relationship and

fellowship with God, according to the divine estimate of the claims

thereof.

A clear sense of this is of unspeakable value. Unless this feature of

the atonement be laid hold of, there cannot be settled peace; nor will

there be any just moral sense of the extent and fullness of the work

of Christ, or of the true nature of the relationship founded thereon.

God knew what was needed in order that man might be in His presence

without a single misgiving, and He has made ample provision for it in

the cross. Fellowship between God and man were utterly impossible if

sin had not been disposed of according to God's thoughts about it;

for, albeit man's conscience were satisfied, the question would ever

be suggesting itself, Has God been satisfied? If this question could

not be answered in the affirmative, fellowship could never

subsist.[12] The thought would be continually intruding itself upon

the heart, that things were manifesting themselves in the details of

life which divine holiness could not tolerate. True, we might be doing

such things "through ignorance," but this could not alter the matter

before God, inasmuch as all is known to Him. Hence, there would be

continual apprehension, doubt, and misgiving. All these things are

divinely met by the fact that sin has been atoned for, not according

to our "ignorance," but according to God's knowledge. The assurance of

this gives great rest to the heart and conscience. All God's claims

have been answered by His own work. He Himself has made the provision;

and therefore the more refined the believer's conscience becomes,

under the combined action of the Word and Spirit of God--the more he

grows in a divinely-adjusted sense of all that morally befits the

sanctuary--the more keenly alive he becomes to every thing which is

unsuited to the divine presence, the fuller, clearer, deeper, and more

vigorous will be his apprehension of the infinite value of that

Sin-offering which has not only traveled beyond the utmost bounds of

human conscience, but also met, in absolute perfection, all the

requirements of divine holiness.

[12] I would desire it to be particularly remembered that the point

before us in the text is simply atonement. The Christian reader is

fully aware, I doubt not, that the possession of "the divine nature"

is essential to fellowship with God. I not only need a _title_ to

approach God, but a _nature_ to enjoy Him. The soul that "believes in

the name of the only begotten Son of God" has both the one and the

other. (See John i. 12, 13; iii. 36; v. 24; xx. 31; 1 John v. 11-13.)

Nothing can more forcibly express man's incompetency to deal with sin

than the fact of there being such a thing as a "sin of ignorance." How

could he deal with that which he knows not? How could he dispose of

that which has never even come within the range of his conscience?

Impossible. Man's ignorance of sin proves his total inability to put

it away. If he does not know of it, what can he do about it? Nothing.

He is as powerless as he is ignorant. Nor is this all. The fact of a

"sin of ignorance" demonstrates most clearly the uncertainty which

must attend upon every settlement of the question of sin, in which no

higher claims have been responded to than those put forth by the most

refined human conscience. There can never be settled peace upon this

ground. There will always be the painful apprehension that there is

something wrong underneath. If the heart be not led into settled

repose by the Scripture testimony that the inflexible claims of divine

Justice have been answered, there must, of necessity, be a sensation

of uneasiness, and every such sensation presents a barrier to our

worship, our communion, and our testimony. If I am uneasy in reference

to the settlement of the question of sin, I cannot worship, I cannot

enjoy communion either with God or His people, nor can I be an

intelligent or effective witness for Christ. The heart must be at rest

before God as to the perfect remission of sin ere we can "worship Him

in spirit and in truth." If there be guilt on the conscience, there

must be terror in the heart; and, assuredly, a heart filled with

terror cannot be a happy or a worshiping heart. It is only from a

heart filled with that sweet and sacred repose which the blood of

Christ imparts, that true and acceptable worship can ascend to the

Father. The same principle holds good with respect to our fellowship

with the people of God and our service and testimony amongst men,--all

must rest upon the foundation of settled peace, and this peace rests

upon the foundation of a perfectly purged conscience, and this purged

conscience rests upon the foundation of the perfect remission of all

our sins, whether they be sins of knowledge or sins of ignorance.

We shall now proceed to compare the sin-offering with the

burnt-offering, in doing which we shall find two very different

aspects of Christ. But although the aspects are different, it is one

and the same Christ; and hence the sacrifice in each case was "without

blemish." This is easily understood. It matters not in what aspect we

contemplate the Lord Jesus Christ, He must ever be seen as the same

pure, spotless, holy, perfect One. True, He did, in His abounding

grace, stoop to be the Sin-bearer of His people; but it was a perfect,

spotless Christ who did so; and it would be nothing short of

diabolical wickedness to take occasion from the depth of His

humiliation to tarnish the personal glory of the humbled One. The

intrinsic excellence, the unsullied purity, and the divine glory of

our blessed Lord appear in the sin-offering as fully as in the

burnt-offering. It matters not in what relationship He stands, what

office He fills, what work He performs, what position He occupies, His

personal glories shine out in all their divine effulgence.

This truth of one and the same Christ, whether in the burnt-offering

or in the sin-offering, is seen not only in the fact that in each

case the offering was "without blemish," but also in "the law of the

sin-offering," where we read, "This is the law of the sin-offering: In

the place where the burnt-offering is killed shall the sin-offering be

killed before the Lord: it is most holy." (Lev. vi. 25.) Both types

point to one and the same great Antitype, though they present Him in

such contrasted aspects of His work. In the burnt-offering, Christ is

seen meeting the divine affections; in the sin-offering, He is seen

meeting the depths of human need. That presents Him to us as the

Accomplisher of the will of God; this, as the Bearer of the sin of

man. In the former, we are taught the preciousness of the Sacrifice;

in the latter, the hatefulness of sin. Thus much as to the two

offerings, in the main. The most minute examination of the details

will only tend to establish the mind in the truth of this general

statement.

In the first place, when considering the burnt-offering, we observed

that it was a voluntary offering.--"He shall offer it of his own

voluntary will."[13] Now, the word "voluntary" does not occur in the

sin-offering. This is precisely what we might expect. It is in full

keeping with the specific object of the Holy Ghost, in the

burnt-offering, to set it forth as a free-will offering. It was

Christ's meat and drink to do the will of God, whatever that will

might be. He never thought of inquiring what ingredients were in the

cup which the Father was putting into His hand. It was quite

sufficient for Him that the Father had mingled it. Thus it was with

the Lord Jesus as foreshadowed by the burnt-offering. But in the

sin-offering, we have quite a different line of truth unfolded. This

type introduces Christ to our thoughts, not as the "voluntary"

Accomplisher of the will of God, but as the Bearer of that terrible

thing called "sin," and the Endurer of all its appalling consequences,

of which the most appalling to Him was the hiding of God's

countenance. Hence, the word "voluntary" would not harmonize with the

object of the Spirit in the sin-offering. It would be as completely

out of place in that type as it is divinely in place in the

burnt-offering. Its presence and its absence are alike divine; and

both alike exhibit the perfect, the divine precision of the types of

Leviticus.

[13] Some may find difficulty in the fact that the word "voluntary"

has reference to the worshiper and not to the sacrifice; but this can

in no wise affect the doctrine put forward in the text, which is

founded upon the fact that a special word used in the burnt-offering

is omitted in the sin-offering. The contrast holds good whether we

think of the offerer or the offering.

Now, the point of contrast which we have been considering, explains,

or rather harmonizes, two expressions used by our Lord. He says, on

one occasion, "The cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not

drink it?" And again, "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass

from Me." The former of these expressions was the full carrying out of

the words with which He entered upon His course, namely, "Lo, I come

to do Thy will, O God;" and, moreover, it is the utterance of Christ

as the Burnt-offering. The latter, on the other hand, is the utterance

of Christ when contemplating the place which He was about to occupy as

the Sin-offering. What that place was, and what was involved to Him in

taking it, we shall see as we proceed; but it is interesting and

instructive to find the entire doctrine of the two offerings involved,

as it were, in the fact that a single word introduced in the one is

omitted in the other. If in the burnt-offering we find the perfect

readiness of heart with which Christ offered Himself for the

accomplishment of the will of God, then in the sin-offering we find

how perfectly He entered into all the consequences of man's sin, and

how He traveled into the most remote distance of man's position as

regards God. He delighted to do the will of God; He shrank from

losing, for a moment, the light of His blessed countenance. No one

offering could have foreshadowed Him in both these phases. We needed a

type to present Him to us as One delighting to do the will of God, and

we needed a type to present Him to us as One whose holy nature shrank

from the consequences of imputed sin. Blessed be God, we have both.

The burnt-offering furnishes the one; the sin-offering, the other.

Wherefore, the more fully we enter into the devotion of Christ's heart

to God, the more fully we shall apprehend His abhorrence of sin; and

_vice versa_. Each throws the other into relief; and the use of the

word "voluntary" in the one and not in the other, fixes the leading

import of each.

But it may be said, Was it not the will of God that Christ should

offer Himself as an atonement for sin? and if so, how could there be

aught of shrinking from the accomplishment of that will? Assuredly, it

was "the determinate counsel" of God that Christ should suffer, and,

moreover, it was Christ's joy to do the will of God; but how are we to

understand the expression, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from

Me"? Is it not the utterance of Christ? And is there no express type

of the Utterer thereof? Unquestionably. There would be a serious blank

among the types of the Mosaic economy were there not one to reflect

the Lord Jesus in the exact attitude in which the above expression

presents Him. But the burnt-offering does not thus reflect Him. There

is not a single circumstance connected with that offering which would

correspond with such language. The sin-offering alone furnishes the

fitting type of the Lord Jesus as the One who poured forth those

accents of intense agony; for in it alone do we find the circumstances

which evoked such accents from the depths of His spotless soul. The

awful shadow of the cross, with its shame, its curse, and its

exclusion from the light of God's countenance, was passing across His

spirit, and He could not even contemplate it without an "If it be

possible, let this cup pass from Me." But no sooner had He uttered

these words than His profound subjection manifests itself in "Thy will

be done." What a bitter "cup" it must have been to elicit from a

perfectly subject heart the words, "Let it pass from Me"! What

perfect subjection there must have been, when, in the presence of so

bitter a cup, the heart could breath forth, "Thy will be done"!

We shall now consider the typical act of "laying on of hands." This

act was common both to the burnt-offering and the sin-offering; but in

the case of the former, it identified the offerer with an unblemished

offering; in the case of the latter, it involved the transfer of the

sin of the offerer to the head of the offering. Thus it was in the

type; and when we look at the Antitype, we learn a truth of the most

comforting and edifying nature--a truth which, were it more clearly

understood and fully experienced, would impart a far more settled

peace than is ordinarily possessed.

What, then, is the doctrine set forth in the laying on of hands? It is

this: Christ was "made sin for us, that we might be made the

righteousness of God in Him." (2 Cor. v.) He took our position with

all its consequences, in order that we might get His position with all

its consequences. He was treated as sin upon the cross, that we might

be treated as righteousness in the presence of Infinite Holiness. He

was cast out of God's presence because He had sin on Him by

imputation, that we might be received into God's house and into His

bosom because we have a perfect righteousness by imputation. He had to

endure the hiding of God's countenance, that we might bask in the

light of that countenance. He had to pass through three hours'

darkness, that we might walk in everlasting light. He was forsaken of

God for a time, that we might enjoy His presence forever. All that was

due to us as ruined sinners was laid upon Him, in order that all that

was due to Him as the Accomplisher of redemption might be ours. There

was every thing against Him when He hung upon the cursed tree, in

order that there might be nothing against us. He was identified with

us in the reality of death and judgment, in order that we might be

identified with Him in the reality of life and righteousness. He drank

the cup of wrath--the cup of trembling, that we might drink the cup of

salvation--the cup of infinite favor. He was treated according to our

deserts, that we might be treated according to His.

Such is the wondrous truth illustrated by the ceremonial act of

imposition of hands. When the worshiper had laid his hand upon the

head of the burnt-offering, it ceased to be a question as to what he

was or what He deserved, and became entirely a question of what the

offering was in the judgment of Jehovah. If the offering was without

blemish, so was the offerer; if the offering was accepted, so was the

offerer. They were perfectly identified. The act of laying on of hands

constituted them one in God's view. He looked at the offerer through

the medium of the offering. Thus it was in the case of the

burnt-offering. But in the sin-offering, when the offerer had laid his

hand upon the head of the offering, it became a question of what the

offerer was, and what he deserved; the offering was treated according

to the deserts of the offerer. They were perfectly identified. The act

of laying on of hands constituted them one in the judgment of God. The

sin of the offerer was dealt with in the sin-offering; the person of

the offerer was accepted in the burnt-offering. This made a vast

difference. Hence, though the act of laying on of hands was common to

both types, and, moreover, though it was expressive, in the case of

each, of identification, yet were the consequences as different as

possible. The just treated as the unjust; the unjust accepted in the

just.--"Christ hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust,

that He might bring us to God." This is the doctrine. Our sins brought

Christ to the cross, but He brings us to God. And if He brings us to

God, it is in His own acceptableness, as risen from the dead, having

put away our sins, according to the perfectness of His own work. He

bore away our sins far from the sanctuary of God, in order that He

might bring us nigh, even into the holiest of all, in full confidence

of heart, having the conscience purged by His precious blood from

every stain of sin.

Now, the more minutely we compare all the details of the

burnt-offering and the sin-offering, the more clearly shall we

apprehend the truth of what has been above stated in reference to the

laying on of hands and the results thereof in each case.

In the first chapter of this volume, we noticed the fact that "the

sons of Aaron" are introduced in the burnt-offering, but not in the

sin-offering. As priests, they were privileged to stand around the

altar and behold the flame of an acceptable sacrifice ascending to the

Lord. But in the sin-offering, in its primary aspect, it was a

question of the solemn judgment of sin, and not of priestly worship or

admiration, and therefore the sons of Aaron do not appear. It is as

convicted sinners that we have to do with Christ as the Antitype of

the sin-offering: it is as worshiping priests, clothed in garments of

salvation, that we contemplate Christ as the Antitype of the

burnt-offering.

But, further, my reader may observe that the burnt-offering was

"flayed," the sin-offering was not; the burnt-offering was "cut into

his pieces," the sin-offering was not; "the inwards and the legs" of

the burnt-offering were "washed in water," which act was entirely

omitted in the sin-offering. Lastly, the burnt-offering was burnt upon

the altar, the sin-offering was burnt without the camp. These are

weighty points of difference, arising simply out of the distinctive

character of the offerings. We know there is nothing in the Word of

God without its own specific meaning; and every intelligent and

careful student of Scripture will notice the above points of

difference, and when he notices them, he will naturally seek to

ascertain their real import. _Ignorance_ of this import there may be,

but _indifference_ to it there should not. In any section of

inspiration, but especially one so rich as that which lies before us,

to pass over a single point would be to offer dishonor to the divine

Author, and to deprive our own souls of much profit. We should hang

over the most minute details, either to adore God's wisdom in them, or

to confess our own ignorance of them. To pass them by, in a spirit of

indifference, is to imply that the Holy Ghost has taken the trouble to

write what we do not deem worthy of the desire to understand. This is

what no right-minded Christian would presume to think. If the Spirit,

in writing upon the ordinance of the sin-offering, has omitted the

various rites above alluded to--rites which get a prominent place in

the ordinance of the burnt-offering, there must assuredly be some good

reason for, and some important meaning in, His doing so. These we

should seek to apprehend, and no doubt they arise out of the special

design of the divine mind in each offering. The sin-offering sets

forth that aspect of Christ's work in which He is seen taking

judicially the place which belonged to us morally. For this reason we

could not look for that intense expression of what He was in all His

secret springs of action, as unfolded in the typical act of "flaying."

Neither could there be that enlarged exhibition of what he was, not

merely as a whole, but in the most minute features of his character,

as seen in the act of "cutting it into his pieces." Nor yet could

there be that manifestation of what He was personally, practically,

and intrinsically, as set forth in the significant act of "washing the

inwards and legs in water."

All these things belonged to the burnt-offering phase of our blessed

Lord, and to that alone, because in it we see Him offering Himself to

the eye, to the heart, and to the altar of Jehovah, without any

question of imputed sin, of wrath, or of judgment. In the

sin-offering, on the contrary, instead of having, as the great

prominent idea, what Christ is, we have what sin is,--instead of the

preciousness of Jesus, we have the odiousness of sin. In the

burnt-offering, inasmuch as it is Christ Himself offered to and

accepted by God, we have every thing done that could possibly make

manifest what He was in every respect. In the sin-offering, because it

is sin as judged by God, the very reverse is the case. All this is so

plain as to need no effort of the mind to understand it. It naturally

flows out of the distinctive character of the type.

However, although the leading object in the sin-offering is to shadow

forth what Christ became for us, and not what He was in Himself, there

is nevertheless one rite connected with this type which most fully

expresses His personal acceptableness to Jehovah. This rite is laid

down in the following words: "And he shall take off from it all the

fat of the bullock for the sin-offering; the fat that covereth the

inwards, and all the fat that is upon the inwards, and the two

kidneys, and the fat that is upon them, which is by the flanks, and

the caul above the liver, with the kidneys, it shall he take away, as

it was taken off from the bullock of the sacrifice of peace-offering;

and the priest shall burn them upon the altar of the burnt-offering."

(Chap. iv. 8-10.) Thus the intrinsic excellency of Christ is not

omitted even in the sin-offering. The fat burnt upon the altar is the

apt expression of the divine appreciation of the preciousness of

Christ's Person, no matter what place He might, in perfect grace, take

on our behalf or in our stead. He was made sin for us, and the

sin-offering is the divinely appointed shadow of Him in this respect;

but inasmuch as it was the Lord Jesus Christ--God's Elect, His Holy

One--His pure, His spotless, His eternal Son that was made sin,

therefore the fat of the sin-offering was burnt upon the altar, as a

proper material for that fire which was the impressive exhibition of

divine holiness.

But even in this very point we see what a contrast there is between

the sin-offering and the burnt-offering. In the case of the latter, it

was not merely the fat, but the whole sacrifice that was burnt upon

the altar, because it was Christ, without any question of sin-bearing

whatever. In the case of the former, there was nothing but the fat to

be burnt upon the altar, because it was a question of sin-bearing,

though Christ was the Sin-bearer. The divine glories of Christ's

Person shine out even from amid the darkest shades of that cursed tree

to which He consented to be nailed as a curse for us. The hatefulness

of that with which, in the exercise of divine love, He connected His

blessed Person on the cross, could not prevent the sweet odor of His

preciousness from ascending to the throne of God. Thus have we

unfolded to us the profound mystery of God's face hidden from that

which Christ _became_, and God's heart refreshed by what Christ _was_.

This imparts a peculiar charm to the sin-offering. The bright beams of

Christ's Personal glory shining out from amid the awful gloom of

Calvary--His Personal worth set forth in the very deepest depths of

His humiliation--God's delight in the One from whom He had, in

vindication of His inflexible justice and holiness, to hide His

face--all this is set forth in the fact that the fat of the

sin-offering was burnt upon the altar.

Having thus endeavored to point out, in the first place, what was done

with "the blood," and, in the second place, what was done with "the

fat," we have now to consider what was done with "the flesh." "And the

skin of the bullock, and _all his flesh_, ... even _the whole bullock_

shall he carry forth without the camp unto a clean place, where the

ashes are poured out, and burn him on the wood with fire: where the

ashes are poured out shall he be burnt." (Ver. 11, 12.) In this act,

we have the main feature of the sin-offering--that which distinguished

it both from the burnt-offering and the peace-offering. Its flesh was

not burnt upon the altar as in the burnt-offering, neither was it

eaten by the priest or the worshiper as in the peace-offering; it was

wholly burnt without the camp.[14] "No sin-offering, whereof any of

the blood is brought into the tabernacle of the congregation to

reconcile withal in the holy place, shall be eaten: it shall be burnt

in the fire." (Lev. vi. 30.) "For the bodies of those beasts, whose

blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high-priest for sin, are

burned without the camp. Wherefore Jesus also, that He might sanctify

the people with His own blood, suffered without the gate." (Heb. xiii.

11, 12.)

[14] The statement in the text refers only to the sin-offerings of

which the blood was brought into the holy place. There were

sin-offerings of which Aaron and his _sons_ partook. (See Lev. vi. 26,

29; Numb. xviii. 9, 10.)

Now, in comparing what was done with the "blood" with what was done

with the "flesh," or "body," of the sacrifice, two great branches of

truth present themselves to our view, namely, worship and

discipleship. The blood brought into the sanctuary is the foundation

of the former; the body burnt outside the camp is the foundation of

the latter. Before ever we can worship in peace of conscience and

liberty of heart, we must know, on the authority of the Word, and by

the power of the Spirit, that the entire question of _sin_ has been

forever settled by the blood of the divine Sin-offering--that His

blood has been sprinkled perfectly before the Lord--that all God's

claims, and all our necessities as ruined and guilty sinners, have

been forever answered. This gives perfect peace; and, in the enjoyment

of this peace, we worship God. When an Israelite of old had offered

his sin-offering, his conscience was set at rest, in so far as the

offering was capable of imparting rest. True, it was but a temporary

rest, being the fruit of a temporary sacrifice; but, clearly, whatever

kind of rest the offering was fitted to impart, that the offerer might

enjoy. Hence, therefore, our Sacrifice being divine and eternal, our

rest is divine and eternal also. As is the sacrifice, such is the rest

which is founded thereon. A Jew never had an eternally purged

conscience, simply because he had not an eternally efficacious

sacrifice. He might, in a certain way, have his conscience purged for

a day, a month, or a year; but he could not have it purged forever.

"But Christ being come a High-Priest of good things to come, by a

greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to

say, not of this building; neither by the blood of goats and calves,

but by His own blood He entered in once into the holy place, having

obtained _eternal_ redemption. For if the blood of bulls and of goats,

and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the

purifying of the flesh; how much more shall the blood of Christ, who

through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, purge

your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" (Heb. ix.

11-14.)

Here, we have the full, explicit statement of the doctrine. The blood

of goats and calves procured a temporary redemption: the blood of

Christ procures eternal redemption. The former purified outwardly; the

latter, inwardly. That purged the flesh for a time; this, the

conscience forever. The whole question hinges, not upon the character

or condition of the offerer, but upon the value of the offering. The

question is not, by any means, whether a Christian is a better man

than a Jew, but whether the blood of Christ is better than the blood

of a bullock. Assuredly, it is better. How much better? Infinitely

better. The Son of God imparts all the dignity of His own divine

Person to the sacrifice which He offered; and if the blood of a

bullock purified the flesh for a year, "how much more" shall the blood

of the Son of God purge the conscience forever?--if that took away

_some_ sin, how much more shall this take away "_all_"?

Now, why was the mind of a Jew set at rest, for the time being, when

he had offered his sin-offering? How did he know that the special sin

for which he had brought his sacrifice was forgiven? Because God had

said, "It shall be forgiven him." His peace of heart, in reference to

that particular sin, rested upon the testimony of the God of Israel

and the blood of the victim. So now, the peace of the believer, in

reference to "ALL SIN," rests upon the authority of God's word and

"the precious blood of Christ." If a Jew had sinned, and neglected to

bring his sin-offering, he should have been "cut off from among his

people;" but when he took his place as a sinner--when he laid his hand

upon the head of a sin-offering, then the offering was "cut off"

instead of him, and he was free, so far. The offering was treated as

the offerer deserved; and hence, for him not to know that his sin was

forgiven him, would have been to make God a liar, and to treat the

blood of the divinely appointed sin-offering as nothing.

And if this were true in reference to one who had only the blood of a

goat to rest upon, "how much more" powerfully does it apply to one

who has the precious blood of Christ to rest upon? The believer sees

in Christ One who has been judged for all his sin--One who, when He

hung upon the cross, sustained the entire burden of his sin--One who,

having made Himself responsible for that sin, could not be where He

now is if the whole question of sin had not been settled according to

all the claims of Infinite Justice. So absolutely did Christ take the

believer's place on the cross--so entirely was he identified with

Him--so completely was all the believer's sin imputed to Him, there

and then, that all question of the believer's liability--all thought

of his guilt--all idea of his exposure to judgment and wrath, is

eternally set aside.[15] It was all settled on the cursed tree,

between Divine Justice and the spotless Victim. And now the believer

is as absolutely identified with Christ on the throne, as Christ was

identified with him on the cross. Justice has no charge to bring

against the believer, because it has no charge to bring against

Christ. Thus it stands forever. If a charge could be preferred against

the believer, it would be calling in question the reality of Christ's

identification with him on the cross, and the perfectness of Christ's

work on his behalf. If, when the worshiper of old was on his way

back, after having offered his sin-offering, any one had charged him

with that special sin for which his sacrifice had bled, what would

have been his reply? Just this: The sin has been rolled away by the

blood of the victim, and Jehovah has pronounced the words, "It shall

be forgiven him." The victim had died instead of him, and he lived

instead of the victim.

[15] We have a singularly beautiful example of the divine accuracy of

Scripture in 2 Cor. v. 21.--"He hath _made_ Him to be sin [αμαρτιαν

εποιησεν] for us, that we might _become_ [γινωμεθα] the

righteousness of God in Him." The English reader might suppose tha

the word which is rendered "made" is the same in each clause of the

passage. This is not the case.

Such was the type. And as to the Antitype, when the eye of faith rests

on Christ as the Sin-offering, it beholds Him as One who having

assumed a perfect human life, gave up that life on the cross, because

sin was there and then attached to it by imputation. But it beholds

Him also as One who having in Himself the power of divine and eternal

life, rose from the tomb therein, and who now imparts this His risen,

His divine, His eternal life to all who believe in His name. The sin

is gone, because the life to which it was attached is gone. And now,

instead of the life to which sin was attached, all true believers

possess the life to which righteousness attaches. The question of sin

can never once be raised, in reference to the risen and victorious

life of Christ; but this is the life which believers possess. There is

no other life. All beside is death, because all beside is under the

power of sin. "He that hath the Son hath life," and he that hath life

hath righteousness also. The two things are inseparable, because

Christ is both the one and the other. If the judgment and death of

Christ upon the cross were realities, then the life and righteousness

of the believer are realities; if imputed sin was a reality to

Christ, imputed righteousness is a reality to the believer. The one is

as real as the other; for if not, Christ would have died in vain. The

true and irrefragable ground of peace is this,--that the claims of

God's nature have been perfectly met as to sin. The death of Jesus has

satisfied them all--satisfied them forever. What is it that proves

this to the satisfaction of the awakened conscience? The great fact of

resurrection. A risen Christ declares the full deliverance of the

believer--his perfect discharge from every possible demand.--"He was

delivered for our offenses, and raised again for our justification."

(Rom. iv. 25.) For a Christian not to know that his sin is gone, and

gone forever, is to cast a slight upon the blood of his divine

Sin-offering; it is to deny that there has been the perfect

presentation--the sevenfold sprinkling of the blood before the Lord.

And now, ere turning from this fundamental point which has been

occupying us, I would desire to make an earnest and a most solemn

appeal to my reader's heart and conscience. Let me ask you, dear

friend, have you been led to repose on this holy and happy foundation?

Do you know that the question of your sin has been forever disposed

of? Have you laid your hand, by faith, on the head of the

Sin-offering? Have you seen the atoning blood of Jesus rolling away

all your guilt, and carrying it into the mighty waters of God's

forgetfulness? Has Divine Justice any thing against you? Are you free

from the unutterable horrors of a guilty conscience? Do not, I pray

you, rest satisfied until you can give a joyous answer to these

inquiries. Be assured of it, it is the happy privilege of the feeblest

babe in Christ to rejoice in a full and everlasting remission of sins,

on the ground of a finished atonement; and hence, for any to teach

otherwise, is to lower the sacrifice of Christ to the level of "goats

and calves." If we cannot know that our sins are forgiven, then where

are the glad tidings of the gospel? Is a Christian in no wise better

off, in the matter of a sin-offering, than a Jew? The latter was

privileged to know that his matters were set straight for a year, by

the blood of an annual sacrifice. Can the former not have any

certainty at all? Unquestionably. Well, then, if there is any

certainty, it must be eternal, inasmuch as it rests on an eternal

sacrifice.

This, and this alone, is the basis of worship. The full assurance of

sin put away ministers, not to a spirit of self-confidence, but to a

spirit of praise, thankfulness, and worship. It produces, not a spirit

of self-complacency, but of Christ-complacency, which, blessed be God,

is the spirit which shall characterize the redeemed throughout

eternity. It does not lead one to think little of sin, but to think

much of the grace which has perfectly pardoned it, and of the blood

which has perfectly canceled it. It is impossible that any one can

gaze on the cross--can see the place which Christ took--can meditate

upon the sufferings which He endured--can ponder on those three

terrible hours of darkness, and at the same time think lightly of

sin. When all these things are entered into, in the power of the Holy

Ghost, there are two results which must follow, namely, an abhorrence

of sin in all its forms, and a genuine love to Christ, His people, and

His cause.

Let us now consider what was done with the "flesh," or "body," of the

sacrifice, in which, as has been stated, we have the true ground of

discipleship. "The whole bullock shall he carry forth, _without the

camp_, unto a clean place, where the ashes are poured out, and burn

him on the wood with fire." (Chap. iv. 12.) This act is to be viewed

in a double way; first, as expressing the place which the Lord Jesus

took for us as bearing sin; secondly, as expressing the place into

which He was cast by a world which had rejected Him. It is to this

latter point that I would here call my reader's attention.

The use which the apostle, in Heb. xiii, makes of Christ's having

"suffered without the gate," is deeply practical.--"Let us go forth

therefore _unto Him_ without the camp, _bearing His reproach_." If the

sufferings of Christ have secured us an entrance into heaven, the

place where He suffered expresses our rejection from earth. His death

has procured us a city on high; the place where He died divests us of

a city below.[16] "He suffered without the gate," and, in so doing,

He set aside Jerusalem as the present centre of divine operation.

There is no such thing now as a consecrated spot on the earth. Christ

has taken His place, as a suffering One, outside the range of this

world's religion, its politics, and all that pertains to it. The world

hated Him and cast Him out. Wherefore, the word is, "_Go forth_." This

is the motto as regards every thing that men would set up here in the

form of a "camp," no matter what that camp may be. If men set up "a

holy city," you must look for a rejected Christ "without the gate." If

men set up a religious camp, call it by what name you please, you must

"go forth" out of it, in order to find a rejected Christ. It is not

that blind superstition will not grope amid the ruins of Jerusalem in

search of relics of Christ. It assuredly will do so, and has done so.

It will affect to find out and do honor to the site of His cross and

to His sepulchre. Nature's covetousness, too, taking advantage of

nature's superstition, has carried on for ages a lucrative traffic,

under the crafty plea of doing honor to the so-called sacred

localities of antiquity. But a single ray of light from Revelation's

heavenly lamp is sufficient to enable us to say that you must "go

forth" of all these things, in order to find and enjoy communion with

a rejected Christ.

[16] The epistle to the Ephesians furnishes the most elevated view of

the Church's place above, and gives it to us, not merely as to the

title, but also as to the mode. The title is assuredly the blood; but

the mode is thus stated: "But God, who is rich in mercy, for His great

love wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath

quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;) and hath

raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in

Christ Jesus." (Eph. ii. 4-6.)

However, my reader will need to remember that there is far more

involved in the soul-stirring call to "go forth" than a mere escape

from the gross absurdities of an ignorant superstition, or the

designs of a crafty covetousness. There are many who can powerfully

and eloquently expose all such things, who are very far indeed from

any thought of responding to the apostolic summons. When men set up a

"camp," and rally round a standard on which is emblazoned some

important dogma of truth, or some valuable institution--when they can

appeal to an orthodox creed--an advanced and enlightened scheme of

doctrine--a splendid ritual, capable of satisfying the most ardent

aspirations of man's devotional nature--when any or all of these

things exist, it demands much spiritual intelligence to discern the

real force and proper application of the words, "Let us go forth," and

much spiritual energy and decision to act upon them. They should,

however, be discerned and acted upon, for it is perfectly certain that

the atmosphere of a camp, let its ground or standard be what it may,

is destructive of personal communion with a rejected Christ; and no

so-called religious advantage can ever make up for the loss of that

communion. It is the tendency of our hearts to drop into cold

stereotyped forms. This has ever been the case in the professing

church. These forms may have originated in real power; they may have

resulted from positive visitations of the Spirit of God. The

temptation is to stereotype the form when the spirit and power have

all departed. This is, in principle, to set up a camp. The Jewish

system could boast a divine origin. A Jew could triumphantly point to

the temple, with its splendid system of worship, its priesthood, its

sacrifices, its entire furniture, and show that it had all been handed

down from the God of Israel. He could give chapter and verse, as we

say, for every thing connected with the system to which he was

attached. Where is the system, ancient, medieval, or modern, that

could put forth such lofty and powerful pretensions, or come down upon

the heart with such an overwhelming weight of authority? And yet, the

command was to "GO FORTH."

This is a deeply solemn matter. It concerns us all, because we are all

prone to slip away from communion with a living Christ and sink into

dead routine. Hence the practical power of the words, "Go forth

therefore unto _Him_." It is not, Go forth from one system to

another--from one set of opinions to another--from one company of

people to another. No; but, Go forth from every thing that merits the

appellation of a camp, "_to Him_" who "suffered without the gate." The

Lord Jesus is as thoroughly outside the gate now as He was when He

suffered there eighteen centuries ago. What was it that put Him

outside? "The religious world" of that day; and the religious world of

that day is, in spirit and principle, the religious world of the

present moment. The world is the world still. "There is nothing new

under the sun." Christ and the world are not one. The world has

covered itself with the cloak of Christianity; but it is only in order

that its hatred to Christ may work itself up into more deadly forms

underneath. Let us not deceive ourselves. If we will walk with a

rejected Christ, we must be a rejected people. If our Master "suffered

_without_ the gate," we cannot expect to reign _within_ the gate. If

we walk in His footsteps, whither will they lead us? Surely, not to

the high places of this Godless, Christless world.

"His path, uncheered by earthly smiles,

Led only to the cross."

He is a despised Christ--a rejected Christ--a Christ outside the camp.

Oh, then, dear Christian reader, let us go forth to Him, bearing His

reproach. Let us not bask in the sunshine of this world's favor,

seeing it crucified, and still hates with an unmitigated hatred, the

beloved One to whom we owe our present and eternal all, and who loves

us with a love which many waters cannot quench. Let us not, directly

or indirectly, accredit that thing which calls itself by His sacred

name, but, in reality, hates His Person, hates His ways, hates His

truth, hates the bare mention of His advent. Let us be faithful to an

absent Lord. Let us live for Him who died for us. While our

consciences repose in His blood, let our heart's affections entwine

themselves around His Person; so that our separation from "this

present evil world" may not be merely a matter of cold principle, but

an affectionate separation, because the object of our affections is

not here. May the Lord deliver us from the influence of that

consecrated, prudential selfishness so common at the present time,

which would not be without religiousness, but is the enemy of the

cross of Christ. What we want, in order to make a successful stand

against this terrible form of evil, is not peculiar views, or special

principles, or curious theories, or cold intellectual accuracy: we

want a deep-toned devotedness to the Person of the Son of God, a

whole-hearted consecration of ourselves--body, soul, and spirit--to

His service, an earnest longing for His glorious advent. These, my

reader, are the special wants of the times in which you and I live.

Will you not, then, join in uttering, from the very depths of your

heart, the cry, "O Lord, revive Thy work!"--"Accomplish the number of

Thine elect!"--"Hasten Thy kingdom!"--"Come, Lord Jesus, come!"

Notes on the Book of Leviticus · 第 4 / 16 章