The book of Leviticus may be termed "The Priest's Guide-book." This is
very much its character. It is full of principles for the guidance of
such as desire to live in the enjoyment of priestly nearness to God.
Had Israel gone on with Jehovah according to the grace in which He had
brought them up out of the land of Egypt, they should have been to Him
"a kingdom of priests and a holy nation." (Ex. xix. 6.) This, however,
they failed to do. They put themselves at a distance; they got under
law and failed to keep it. Hence, Jehovah had to take up a certain
tribe, and from that tribe a certain family, and from that family a
certain man, and to him and to his house was granted the high
privilege of drawing nigh as priests unto God.
Now, the privileges of such a position were immense; but it had its
heavy responsibilities likewise. There would be the ever-recurring
demand for the exercise of a discerning mind. "The priest's lips
should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth; for
he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts." (Mal. ii. 7.) The priest
was not only to bear the judgment of the congregation before the Lord,
but also to expound the ordinances of the Lord to the congregation. He
was to be the ever-ready medium of communication between Jehovah and
the assembly. He was not merely to know the mind of God for himself,
but be able also to interpret that mind to the people. All this would
demand, of necessity, constant watching, constant waiting, constant
hanging over the page of inspiration, that he might drink in, to his
very soul, all the precepts, the judgments, the statutes, the laws,
the commandments, and the ordinances of the God of Israel, so as to be
able to instruct the congregation in reference to "those things which
ought to be done."
There was no room left for the play of fancy, the working of
imagination, the introduction of man's plausible inferences, or the
cunning devices of human expediency. Every thing was laid down with
the divine precision and commanding authority of a "Thus saith the
Lord." Minute and elaborate as was the detail of sacrifices, rites,
and ceremonies, nothing was left for man's brain to originate. He was
not even permitted to decide upon the kind of sacrifice to be offered
upon any given occasion, nor yet as to the mode in which such
sacrifice was to be presented. Jehovah took care of every thing.
Neither the congregation nor the priest had any authority whatsoever
to decree, enact, or suggest so much as a single item throughout all
the vast array of ordinances in the Mosaic economy. _The word of the
Lord settled all_: man had _only to obey_.
This, to an obedient heart, was nothing short of an unspeakable mercy.
It is quite impossible to overestimate the privilege of being
permitted to betake one's self to the oracles of God, and there find
the most ample guidance as to all the details of one's faith and
service day by day. All that we need is a broken will, a mortified
mind, a single eye. The divine guide-book is as full as we can
possibly desire: we want no more. To imagine for a moment that aught
is left for man's wisdom to supply, must be regarded as a flagrant
insult offered to the sacred canon. No one can read the book of
Leviticus and not be struck with the extraordinary painstaking on the
part of Israel's God to furnish His people with the most minute
instruction upon every point connected with His service and worship.
The most cursory reader of the book might at least bear away with him
this touching and interesting lesson.
And truly, if ever there was a time when this self-same lesson needed
to be read out in the ears of the professing church, this is the time.
On all hands, the divine sufficiency of holy Scripture is called in
question. In some cases, this is openly and deliberately done; in
others, it is with less frankness hinted, insinuated, implied, and
inferred. The Christian mariner is told, directly or indirectly, that
the divine chart is insufficient for all the intricate details of his
voyage--that such changes have taken place in the ocean of life since
that chart was made that in many cases it is entirely deficient for
the purposes of modern navigation. He is told that the currents,
tides, coasts, strands, and shores of that ocean are quite different
now from what they were some centuries ago, and that, as a necessary
consequence, he must have recourse to the aids which modern
navigation supplies, in order to make up for the deficiencies in the
old chart, which is, as a matter of course, admitted to have been
perfect at the time it was made.
Now, I earnestly desire that the Christian reader should be able, with
clearness and decision, to meet this grievous dishonor done to the
precious volume of inspiration, every line of which comes to him fresh
from his Father's bosom, through the pen of God the Holy Ghost. I
desire that he should meet it whether it comes before him in the shape
of a bold and blasphemous statement or a learned and plausible
inference. Whatever garb it wears, it owes its origin to the enemy of
Christ, the enemy of the Bible, the enemy of the soul. If, indeed, the
Word of God be not sufficient, then where are we? or whither shall we
turn? To whom shall we betake ourselves for aid if our Father's book
be in any respect defective? God says that His book can "furnish us
_thoroughly_ to _all_ good works." (2 Tim. iii. 17.) Man says, No;
there are many things about which the Bible is silent, which,
nevertheless, we need to know. Whom am I to believe? God, or man? Our
reply to any one who questions the divine sufficiency of Scripture is
just this: Either you are not a "man of God," or else that for which
you want a warrant is not "a good work." This is plain. No one can
possibly think otherwise with his eye resting on 2 Timothy iii. 17.
Oh for a deeper sense of the fullness, majesty, and authority of the
Word of God! We very much need to be braced up on this point. We want
such a deep, bold, vigorous, influential, and abiding sense of the
supreme authority of the divine canon, and of its absolute
completeness for every age, every clime, every position, every
department--personal, social, and ecclesiastical, as shall enable us
to withstand every attempt of the enemy to depreciate the value of
that inestimable treasure. May our hearts enter more into the spirit
of those words of the Psalmist--"Thy Word is true _from the
beginning_; and every one of thy righteous judgments _endureth
forever_." (Psalm cxix. 160.)
The foregoing train of thought is awakened by the perusal of the
eleventh chapter of the book of Leviticus. Therein we find Jehovah
entering, in most marvelous detail, into a description of beasts,
birds, fishes, and reptiles, and furnishing His people with various
marks by which they were to know what was clean and what was unclean.
We have the summing up of the entire contents of this remarkable
chapter in the two closing verses.--"This is the law of the beasts,
and of the fowl, and of every living creature that moveth in the
waters, and of every creature that creepeth upon the earth; _to make a
difference_ between the unclean and the clean, and between the beast
that may be eaten and the beast that may not be eaten."
With regard to beasts, two things were essential to render them
clean--they should chew the cud and divide the hoof. "Whatsoever
parteth the hoof, and is cloven-footed, and cheweth the cud among the
beasts, that shall ye eat." Either of these marks would, of itself,
have been wholly insufficient to constitute ceremonial cleanness: the
two should go together. Now, while these two marks were quite
sufficient for the guidance of an Israelite as to the cleanness or
uncleanness of an animal, without any reference as to why or wherefore
such marks were given or what they meant, yet is the Christian
permitted to inquire into the spiritual truth wrapped up in these
ceremonial enactments.
What, then, are we to learn from those two features in a clean animal?
The chewing of the cud expresses the natural process of "inwardly
digesting" that which one eats, while the divided hoof sets forth the
character of one's outward walk. There is, as we know, an intimate
connection between the two in the Christian life. The one who feeds
upon the green pastures of the Word of God, and inwardly digests what
he takes in--the one who is enabled to combine calm meditation with
prayerful study, will, without doubt, manifest that character of
outward walk which is to the praise of Him who has graciously given us
His Word to form our habits and govern our ways.
It is to be feared that many who _read the Bible_ do not _digest the
Word_. The two things are widely different. One may read chapter after
chapter, book after book, and not digest so much as a single line. We
may read the Bible as part of a dull and profitless routine, but,
through lack of the ruminating powers--the digestive organs, we derive
no profit whatsoever. This should be carefully looked into. The
cattle that browse on the green may teach us a wholesome lesson. They
first diligently gather up the refreshing pasture, and then calmly lie
down to chew the cud. Striking and beautiful picture of a Christian
feeding upon and inwardly digesting the precious contents of the
volume of inspiration! Would that there were more of this amongst us!
Were we more accustomed to betake ourselves to the Word as the
necessary pasture of our souls, we should assuredly be in a more
vigorous and healthy condition. Let us beware of reading the Bible as
a dead form--a cold duty--a piece of religious routine.
The same caution is needful in reference to the public exposition of
the Word. Let those who expound Scripture to their fellows first feed
and digest for themselves,--let them read and ruminate in private, not
merely for others, but for themselves. It is a poor thing for a man to
be continually occupied in procuring food for other people, and he
himself dying of starvation. Then, again, let those who attend upon
the public ministry of the Word see that they are not doing so
mechanically, as by the force of mere religious habit, but with an
earnest desire to "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" what they
hear. Then will both teachers and taught be well-conditioned, the
spiritual life nourished and sustained, and the true character of
outward walk exhibited.
But be it remembered that the chewing of the cud must never be
separated from the divided hoof. If one but partially acquainted with
the priest's guide-book--unpracticed in the divine ceremonial happened
to see an animal chewing the cud, he might hastily pronounce him
clean. This would have been a serious error. A more careful reference
to the divine directory would at once show that he must mark the
animal's _walk_--that he must note the impression made by each
movement--that he must look for the result of the divided hoof.
"Nevertheless these shall ye not eat of them that chew the cud, or of
them that divide the hoof; as the camel, because he cheweth the cud,
but divideth not the hoof, he is unclean unto you," etc., etc. (Ver.
4-6.)
In like manner the divided hoof was insufficient if not accompanied by
the chewing of the cud.--"The swine, though he divide the hoof and be
cloven-footed, yet he cheweth not the cud; he is unclean to you."
(Ver. 7.) In a word, then, the two things were inseparable in the case
of every clean animal; and as to the spiritual application, it is of
the very last importance, in a practical point of view. The inward
life and the outward walk must go together. A man may profess to love
and feed upon--to study and ruminate over the Word of God--the pasture
of the soul; but if his footprints along the pathway of life are not
such as the Word requires, he is not clean. And on the other hand, a
man may seem to walk with pharisaic blamelessness; but if his walk be
not the result of the hidden life, it is worse than worthless. There
must be the divine principle within, which feeds upon and digests the
rich pasture of God's Word, else the impression of the footstep will
be of no avail. The value of each depends upon its inseparable
connection with the other.
We are here forcibly reminded of a solemn passage in the first epistle
of John, in which the apostle furnishes us with the two marks whereby
we may know those that are of God.--"In this the children of God are
manifest, and the children of the devil: whosoever _doeth not
righteousness_ is not of God, neither he that _loveth not his
brother_." (1 John iii. 10.) Here we have the two grand
characteristics of the eternal life of which all true believers are
possessed, namely, "righteousness" and "love"--the outward and the
inward. Both must be combined. Some professing Christians are all for
love, so called, and some for righteousness. Neither can exist, in a
divine way, without the other. If that which is called love exist
without practical righteousness, it will, in reality, be but a lax,
soft, easy-going habit of mind, which will tolerate all manner of
error and evil; and if that which is called righteousness exist
without love, it will be a stern, proud, pharisaic, self-sufficient
temper of soul, resting upon the miserable basis of personal
reputation. But where the divine life is in energy, there will ever be
the inward charity combined with genuine practical righteousness. The
two elements are essential in the formation of true Christian
character. There must be the love that will express itself in
reference to the very feeblest development of that which is of God,
and, at the same time, the holiness that shrinks, with intense
abhorrence, from all that is of Satan.
We shall now pass on to the consideration of that which the Levitical
ceremonial taught with respect to "all that are in the waters." Here,
again, we find the double mark. "These shall ye eat of all that are in
the waters: whatsoever hath fins and scales in the waters, in the
seas, and in the rivers, them shall ye eat. And all that have not fins
and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the
waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be
an abomination unto you." (Ver. 9, 10.) Two things were necessary to
render a fish ceremonially clean, namely, "fins and scales," which
obviously set forth a certain fitness for the sphere and element in
which the creature had to move.
But doubtless there was more than this. I believe it is our privilege
to discern, in the natural properties with which God has endowed those
creatures which move in the waters, certain spiritual qualities which
belong to the Christian life. If a fish needs a "fin" to enable him to
move through the water, and "scales" to resist the action thereof, so
does the believer need that spiritual capacity which enables him to
move onward through the scene with which he is surrounded, and, at the
same time, to resist its influence--to prevent its penetrating--to
keep it out. These are precious qualities. The fin and the scale are
pregnant with meaning--full of practical instruction to the
Christian. They exhibit to us, in ceremonial garb, two things which we
specially need, namely, spiritual energy to move onward through the
element which surrounds us, and the power to preserve us from its
action. The one will not avail without the other. It is of no use to
possess a capacity to get on through the world if we are not proof
against the world's influence; and though we may seem to be able to
keep the world out, yet if we have not the motive-power, we are
defective. The "fins" would not do without the "scales," nor the
"scales" without the "fins." Both were required, to render a fish
ceremonially clean; and we, in order to be properly equipped, require
to be incased against the penetrating influence of an evil world, and,
at the same time, to be furnished with a capacity to pass rapidly on.
The whole deportment of a Christian should declare him a pilgrim and a
stranger here. "_Onward_" must be his motto--ever and only onward. Let
his locality and his circumstances be what they may, he is to have his
eye fixed on a home beyond this perishing, passing world. He is
furnished, by grace, with spiritual ability to go forward--to
penetrate energetically through all, and carry out the earnest
aspirations of his heaven-born spirit. And while thus vigorously
pushing his way onward--while "forcing his passage to the skies," he
is to keep his inward man fenced round about and fast closed up
against all external influences.
Oh, for more of the onward bent--the upward tendency! for more holy
fixedness of soul and profound retirement from this vain world! We
shall have reason to bless the Lord for our meditations amid the
ceremonial shadows of the book of Leviticus if we are led thereby to
long more intensely after those graces which though so dimly portrayed
there are nevertheless so manifestly needful for us.
From verse 13 to verse 24 of our chapter, we have the law with respect
to birds. All of the carnivorous kind, that is, all that fed on flesh,
were unclean; the omnivorous, or those who could eat any thing, were
unclean; all those which though furnished with power to soar into the
heavens would nevertheless grovel upon the earth were unclean. As to
the latter class, there were some exceptional cases (ver. 21, 22.);
but the general rule, the fixed principle, the standing ordinance, was
as distinct as possible--"All fowls that creep, going upon all fours,
shall be an abomination unto you." (Ver. 20.) All this is very simple
in its instruction to us. Those fowls that could feed upon flesh,
those that could swallow any thing or every thing, and all groveling
fowls, were to be unclean to the Israel of God, because so pronounced
by the God of Israel; nor can the spiritual mind have any difficulty
in discerning the fitness of such an ordinance. We can not only trace
in the habits of the above three classes of fowl the just ground of
their being pronounced unclean, but we can also see in them the
striking exhibition of that in nature which is to be strenuously
guarded against by every true Christian. Such an one is called to
refuse every thing of a carnal nature. Moreover, he cannot feed
promiscuously upon every thing that comes before him. He must "try the
things that differ;" he must "take heed what he hears;" he must
exercise a discerning mind, a spiritual judgment, a heavenly taste.
Finally, he must use his wings; he must rise on the pinions of faith,
and find his place in the celestial sphere to which he belongs. In
short, there must be nothing groveling, nothing promiscuous, nothing
unclean, for the Christian.
As to "creeping things," the following was the general rule: "And
every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth shall be an
abomination; it shall not be eaten." (Ver. 41.) How wonderful to think
of the condescending grace of Jehovah! He could stoop to give
directions about a crawling reptile. He would not leave His people at
a loss as to the most trivial affair. The priest's guide-book
contained the most ample instructions as to every thing. He desired to
keep His people free from the defilement consequent upon touching,
tasting, or handling aught that was unclean. They were not their own,
and hence they were not to do as they pleased. They belonged to
Jehovah; His name was called upon them; they were identified with Him.
His Word was to be their grand regulating standard in every case. From
it they were to learn the ceremonial _status_ of beasts, birds,
fishes, and creeping things. They were not to think their own
thoughts, to exercise their own reasoning powers, or be guided by
their own imaginations in such matters. _God's Word was to be their
sole directory._ Other nations might eat what they pleased, but Israel
enjoyed the high privilege of eating that only which was pleasing to
Jehovah.
Nor was it as to the mere matter of _eating_ aught that was unclean
that the people of God were so jealously guarded. Bare _contact_ was
forbidden. (See ver. 8, 24, 26-28, 31-41.) It was impossible for a
member of the Israel of God to touch that which was unclean without
contracting defilement. This is a principle largely unfolded both in
the law and the prophets.--"Thus saith the Lord of hosts, 'Ask ye now
the priests concerning the law, saying, If one bear holy flesh in the
skirt of his garment, and with his skirt do touch bread, or pottage,
or wine, or oil, or any meat, shall it be holy?' And the priests
answered and said, 'No.' Then said Haggai, 'If one that is unclean by
a dead body _touch_ any of these, shall it be unclean?' And the
priests answered and said, 'It shall be unclean.'" (Hag. ii. 11-13.)
Jehovah would have His people holy in all things. They were neither to
eat nor touch aught that was unclean.--"Ye shall not make yourselves
abominable with any creeping thing that creepeth, neither shall ye
make yourselves unclean with them, that ye should be defiled thereby."
Then follows the powerful reason for all this careful
separation.--"_For I am the Lord your God_: ye shall therefore
sanctify yourselves, and ye shall be holy; _for I am holy_: neither
shall ye defile yourselves with any manner of creeping thing that
creepeth upon the earth. For I am the Lord that bringeth you up out of
the land of Egypt, to be _your God_: ye shall therefore be holy, _for
I am holy_." (Ver. 43-45.)
It is well to see that the personal holiness of God's people--their
entire separation from all manner of uncleanness, flows out of their
relationship to Him. It is not upon the principle of "Stand by
thyself: I am holier than thou;" but simply this: "God is holy," and
therefore all who are brought into association with Him must be holy
likewise. It is in every way worthy of God that _His_ people should be
holy. "Thy testimonies are very sure: holiness becometh Thy house, O
Lord, forever." What else save holiness could become the house of such
an One as Jehovah? If any one had asked an Israelite of old, Why do
you shrink so from that reptile which crawls along the path? He would
have replied, Jehovah is holy, and I belong to Him. He has said,
"Touch not." So also now, if a Christian be asked why he walks apart
from the ten thousand things in which the men of this world
participate, his answer is simply to be, _My Father is holy_. This is
the true foundation of personal holiness. The more we contemplate the
divine character, and enter into the power of our relationship to God,
in Christ, by the energy of the Holy Ghost, the holier we must, of
necessity, be. There can be no progress in the condition of holiness
into which the believer is introduced, but there is and ought to be
progress in the apprehension, experience, and practical exhibition of
that holiness. These things should never be confounded. All believers
are in the same condition of holiness or sanctification, but their
practical measure may vary to any conceivable degree. This is easily
understood. The condition arises out of our _being brought_ nigh to
God by the blood of the cross; the practical measure will depend upon
our _keeping_ nigh by the power of the Spirit. It is not a man setting
up for something superior in himself--for a greater degree of personal
sanctity than is ordinarily possessed--for being in any wise better
than his neighbors. All such pretensions are utterly contemptible in
the judgment of every right-thinking person. But then, if God, in His
exceeding grace, stoop down to our low estate and lift us into the
holy elevation of His blessed presence, in association with Christ,
has He not a right to prescribe what our character is to be as thus
brought nigh? Who could think of calling in question a truth so
obvious? And further, are we not bound to aim at the maintenance of
that character which He prescribes? Are we to be accused of
presumption for so doing? Was it presumption in an Israelite to refuse
to touch "a creeping thing"? Nay, it would have been presumption of
the most daring and dangerous character to have done so. True, he
might not have been able to make an uncircumcised stranger understand
or appreciate the reason of his conduct; but this was not his
province. Jehovah had said, "Touch not," not because an Israelite was
holier in himself than a stranger, but because Jehovah was holy, and
Israel belonged to Him. It needed the eye and the heart of a
circumcised disciple of the law of God, in order to discern what was
clean and what was not. An alien knew no difference. Thus it must ever
be. It is only Wisdom's children that can justify her and approve her
heavenly ways.
Ere turning from the eleventh chapter of Leviticus, my reader might,
with much spiritual profit, compare it with the tenth chapter of Acts,
ver. 11-16. How strange it must have appeared to one who had, from his
earliest days, been taught the principles of the Mosaic ritual, to see
a vessel descending from heaven, "wherein were _all manner_ of
four-footed beasts of the earth, and wild beasts, and _creeping
things_, and fowls of the air;" and not only to see such a vessel so
filled, but also to hear a voice, saying, "Rise, Peter; kill and eat."
How wonderful! No examination of hoofs or habits! There was no need of
this. The vessel and its contents had come from heaven. This was
enough. The Jew might ensconce himself behind the narrow inclosures of
the Jewish ritual, and exclaim, "Not so, Lord; for I have never eaten
any thing that is common or unclean;" but then the tide of divine
grace was rising majestically above all such inclosures, in order to
embrace, in its mighty compass, "all manner" of objects, and bear them
upward to heaven, in the power and on the authority of those precious
words, "What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common." It
mattered not what was in the vessel if God had cleansed it. The
Author of the book of Leviticus was about to raise the thoughts of
His servant above the barriers which that book had erected, into all
the magnificence of Heaven's grace. He would teach him that true
cleanness--the cleanness which Heaven demanded--was no longer to
consist in chewing the cud, dividing the hoof, or any such ceremonial
marks, but in being washed in the blood of the Lamb, which cleanseth
from all sin, and renders the believer clean enough to tread the
sapphire pavement of the heavenly courts.
This was a noble lesson for a Jew to learn; it was a divine lesson,
before the light of which the shadows of the old economy must pass
away. The hand of sovereign grace has thrown open the door of the
kingdom, but not to admit aught that is unclean. This could not be.
Nothing unclean can enter heaven. But then, a cloven hoof was no
longer to be the criterion, but "_what God hath cleansed_." When God
cleanses a man, he must needs be clean. Peter was about to be sent to
open the kingdom to the Gentiles, as he had already opened it to the
Jews, and his Jewish heart needed to be enlarged. He needed to get
above the dark shadows of a by-gone age, into the meridian light that
was shining from an open heaven, in virtue of a completed sacrifice.
He needed to get out of the narrow current of Jewish prejudices, and
be borne upon the bosom of that mighty tide of grace which was about
to roll through the length and breadth of a lost world. He had to
learn, too, that the standard by which true cleanness must be
regulated was no longer carnal, ceremonial, and earthly, but
spiritual, moral, and heavenly. Assuredly, we may say, these were
noble lessons for the apostle of the circumcision to learn upon the
housetop of Simon the tanner. They were eminently calculated to
soften, to expand, and elevate a mind which had been trained amid the
contracting influences of the Jewish system. We bless the Lord for
these precious lessons. We bless Him for the large and wealthy place
in which He has set us, by the blood of the cross. We bless Him that
we are no longer hemmed round about by "Touch not this; taste not
that; handle not the other thing;" but that His Word assures us that
"every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be
received with thanksgiving; for it is sanctified by the Word of God
and prayer." (1 Tim. iv. 4, 5.)