Notes on the Book of Leviticus

by Charles Henry Mackintosh

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.)

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.

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.