(5.) A much more important distinction in the Mosaic sacrifices lies between those which were expiatory and those which were not specially so, the former class being slain animals whose fat at least was burned on the altar and whose blood was sprinkled in specified and various ways; the latter class having somewhat various objects, but chiefly that of expressing gratitude for blessings or joy in the God of their salvation.
Two other points in respect to sacrifices are of importance, viz.—
(a.) The choice of animals to be slain in sacrifice.
(b.) The killing itself, coupled with the use made of the blood, of the fat, and in some cases of the flesh—with the attendant ceremonies.
(a.) It should be carefully noted that animals for sacrifice were not taken up at random. It was not merely life and blood that were sought. They were not the wild, but the tame, domesticated; not the savage, flesh-eating animals, but the docile, grass-eating; not animals mostly or altogether useless to man, but precisely those which were most useful; not animals of the sort nobody loves or cares for, but those most loved and cared for, between whom and the human family there often arises a special intimacy and affection. In a word they were the representatives of utility, docility, and innocence. The ox, patient of toil, in his early years invaluable for food; the goat, useful for flesh and milk; the lamb—the symbol of affection, attachment,innocence:—these three classes of animals formed the staple material for bloody sacrifice. [Of birds, the turtle-dove and young pigeon, being less expensive, were permitted to the poor. As naturally representing innocence and loveliness, they are quite of the same class].——It sometimes escapes notice that the Orientals brought these animals much nearer to their hearts and homes than our Western notions and habits know of. We forget that not infrequently to this day they live under the same roof along with sons and daughters. The prophet Nathan in that touching verse about the “one little ewe lamb” (2 Sam. 12: 3) drew not from his imagination but from Oriental life. “The poor man had nothing save one little ewe lamb which he had bought and nourished up, and it grew up together with him and with his children: it did eat of his own meat” [food] “and drank from his own cup and lay in his bosom, and was to him as his daughter.”——Moreover, the Hebrew might not select for sacrifice the deformed, the torn, the lame, the sickly; but evermore, the unblemished, the perfect—those specially lovable and choice pets around which the hearts of the household, young and old, were wont to cling: of these must the worshiper take for the altar.
Let us think of the scene at that altar of sacrifice. The place is in the front court of the tabernacle, whose inner sanctuary was made glorious with the visible presence of Jehovah. The one all-engrossing thought associated with this sacred spot, was—God is here. I go up to meet God. Before his face I bring this prescribed offering. It is one of my sweet lambs of the flock, or as the case may be, a young bullock of one or two years old. I know that the animal must die there. Either in my own person or through the priest, acting in my behalf, I am to lay my hand on the head of the victim and thus confess my sin. From that moment the innocent lamb takes my place and stands before the executioner, as if guilty of capital crime. The sight and the smell of blood; the struggle and the recoil; the outcry of horror—the only awful, horrible sound uttered by these animals—go to make up a scene which, once witnessed, can never be forgotten. We of this age might see it in some of its aspects if we would; we rarely do. We should find it, not in our worshiping sanctuariesbut in the secluded slaughter-house whither no one is ever attracted—whither none ever go save those who must. Think of the blood, the death-groans, the struggle, the whole dying scene. Is there any meaning in it? Is there any thing in it appropriate to the sanctuary of God and to his solemn worship?
The transaction is by no means so mysterious as it might be. It would be profoundly mysterious were it not that man is a sinner before the holy law of God—a sinner under condemnation of death. It would be utterly inexplicable if there were not in nature, in thought, in fact, something which we may call substitution, to which we give the name vicarious—something which involves, not indeed an entire exchange of one personality for another, but something which approximates toward it. One being suffers in the place and stead of another. An innocent being steps into the place of a guilty one and takes upon himself the guilty man’s doom. We need not pause here to hunt up analogies of this sort in human life; suffice it that God signifies by these striking symbols that he has found a place for this principle in his great scheme for the pardon of sinners condemned to death by his holy law, and that he saw fit to fill this Hebrew religious system absolutely full of illustrative typical representations of this stupendous fact. The elementary facts in this system of sacrifices, considered as illustrating the scheme of pardon are few and simple; thus—
(a.) Man has sinned against God and stands condemned by his law to eternal death.
(b.) God loves this sinning man and longs to save him—but must not break down his law.——So he finds a Lamb for a sacrifice whose death for sinners will abundantly sustain the majesty of law, and proceeds thereupon to “lay on him the iniquity of us all.” This done, it only remains that the sinner repent of his sin, and humbly, thankfully accept the death of this Lamb of sacrifice in place of his own eternal death.——These few and simple elements comprise substantially the essence of this wonderful system.