Several years ago I rode my mountain bike around the shores of Lake Stanley Draper. It’s an artificial reservoir enclosed by a dam and fed by a pair of creeks (East and West Elm Creeks) and several smaller run-offs from higher ground. Underlying the whole area is a thick layer of red sandstone. On that previous series of rides exploring the shoreline, I noted quite a few places where some of that sandstone remained fairly solid, standing up out of the water. It was all quite lovely to me.
Several years passed while the water level remained mostly high. Further, because Oklahoma is so windy, that water was relentlessly whipped into waves from all directions over the course of each year. When I went back out on my new bike, I was struck by how many of those sandstone projections had simply washed away. The shoreline is now quite boring.
Just so, time itself wears away our human awareness of some things. This is both good and bad. Trauma is a lot easier handle as it recedes into the past. But good things can also be forgotten. This is the reason so much of what we read in the Law of Moses. Woven into the code is a whole raft of things intended solely to keep fresh an awareness of God and His relationship to the nation.
Nothing can stop the indolent souls from losing track of the miracles of the Exodus. But for those who were Elect, the rituals could really help keep alive the sense of His power and their humility as they stood before the Lord. I can still feel those jagged rocky formations I walked on at Draper Lake, even if I can’t see them any more.
This is behind Heiser’s first lesson in Leviticus. He explains what would have been the mindset of conscious believers in Israel when the ritual law was revealed through Moses.
As always, I would say Heiser left out some important stuff. Biblical feudalism pervades Creation itself. As those who had been redeemed by great acts of power, they were the property of their Redeemer. His actions in rescuing them made them accountable to Him for as long their nation existed. They had a duty to report in to Him on a regular basis; that’s what the annual holy days were all about. It didn’t matter how busy they were all year long, even if they served Him quite willingly and conscientiously. And it didn’t matter that He saw everything, including what was in their hearts. They were obliged to show up at a minimum number of festivals, if physically possible, to renew their sense of duty.
Heiser explains how this remained nonetheless risky in their minds. You cannot simply walk in and dirty the carpet for nothing. You had to ensure He would let you in the door without striking you down on the threshold. In the minds of the Hebrew believers, they dare not arrive empty-handed nor sloppy. This was not just any old guy that walked among them; this was the highest God of all Creation. You must come and accept the risk of His displeasure. Will God accept you?
This was what stood behind the burnt offerings. You may very well need to conduct some other business with other offerings, but this one thing you must get out of the way first: ensure that He would let you in the door. Visiting any important and powerful person, even today, should provoke thoughts of bringing a gift for the host/hostess. It is not transactional any more than that burnt offering. It sweetens your presence in their home; it’s the polar opposite of a sense of entitlement.
Learn the distinction between a sense of high privilege versus entitlement. It’s not about the person who carries the privilege, but the One who grants it.
Think about all the New Testament references to how Jesus reduced that barrier. When a Hebrew came to faith in Christ, he didn’t have to worry about what kind of offering to bring to the church meeting. He was the offering, and he was acceptable. We are His sanctuary. It also makes sense of Paul’s warnings about coming together for a solemn Lord’s Supper observance, and how too many people come before the Lord thinking it’s about them. How often have you attended a church gathering these days and it was clear the subconscious focus was entirely on the needs of the people there, instead of giving obeisance to Christ.
In our western church heritage, we don’t distinguish between the two kinds of sin as noted in the Old Testament. That initial burnt offering in Leviticus 1 was not about the worshiper, but about God. The blood was not applied to the worshiper. Maybe some of it was applied to the priest, but it was all about cleansing the place, calling attention to the blood price of human fallen nature. How dare you act entitled in God’s Presence!
It’s not how special we are, but how unique and holy He is. While we come before Him boldly in Christ, it is not with entitlement, but with a sense of high privilege.
