A few weeks ago I tried to put into words the concept that there is a greater, truer reality beyond what we see and touch, etc.. It’s not that the physical things aren’t real; it’s more that they have been created by One who gives us tangible things to hold, see, smell, hear, and taste, and those things give us ways to describe God and his character.
I keep thinking about ways this shows up. Last month I was reading through Leviticus and was struck by the description of some of the priests’ roles in the tabernacle when the Israelites were in the wilderness. The text describes how the priests were to cleanse items in the tabernacle. They were instructed to sprinkle oil on various pieces, burn incense at the altar of incense, and sprinkle the blood of sacrifices and rub it onto the horns of the altar. Once a year on the Day of Atonement the Hight Priest entered the Holy of Holies and sprinkled sacrificial blood on the Ark of the Covenant, God’s holy seat (Leviticus 16). This act was one of many that covered the sins of the people.
For some reason, reading that this year made me pause. “How much blood and oil was there?” I thought. “Did they ever clean it off?”
Nothing in the text indicates that. In fact, the only time the ark was seen was on the Day of Atonement. It was seen briefly by the High Priest, through a haze of incense smoke, and the reason he went into that space was to sprinkle blood on the golden lid. Any time the people had to move, and the Levites had to pack up the tabernacle, it seems fairly clear that the High Priest and his sons let down the “concealing curtain” surrounding the Holy of Holies in order to cover and wrap the ark (Numbers 4:4-6). It wasn’t uncovered, and it certainly wasn’t scrubbed down.
I don’t know about you, but when blood or oil gets on things in my kitchen it takes a good bit of elbow grease and detergent to cut through the grime and make things shine. If I let it go beyond a week, I’m looking at an hour or so of heavy scrubbing. The idea of using blood and oil to cleanse the tabernacle is pretty bizarre when you come to think of it.
Add to that the smell. We just spent a few days processing some venison, and the cloying scent of the fresh meat and residual blood is still in my nose. For a while I felt like I couldn’t smell anything else. In the tabernacle, and later the temple, there would have been a continual flow of blood and then a barbecue roast of all the sacrifices, a smell that was “a pleasing aroma to the LORD” (Leviticus 2:2 et al). I like a good barbecue, and campfires are delightful, but only in certain times and places. Continual burning gives me a headache, and after a camping trip I do laundry as soon as possible to get rid of the stink of old smoke.
Blood, oil, smoke…layer upon layer, year after year, coating gleaming gold. All “cleansing” and “covering sin.” How? I think in many ways the thought that struck me would have also been clear to the people and to the priests: “This is never going to actually clean things. There is no way it can get rid of sin, any more than it will make the gold articles in the tabernacle or temple shine.”
It hit me that maybe this was the point—or at least an important point. Maybe the reason God set up the rituals this way was to give people a stark visual that this cleansing wasn’t enough. There was a dire need for a bigger, truer picture, a real act of sacrifice that would actually cleanse….
When Jesus was crucified—hideously, brutally, bloodily murdered (“His blood be on us and on our children!” the people shouted to Pilate)1 it looked nothing like cleansing. And yet—and yet—because he was the perfect sacrifice—this God-Man, this incarnate one who had no sin—his death cut through the layers and layers and layers of blood, oil, and smoke once for all (Hebrews 9:11-14).
“The cross is the crux of the whole matter,” G. K. Chesterton states in The Everlasting Man. “In other words the cross, in fact as well as figure, does really stand for the idea of breaking out of the circle that is everything and nothing” (chapter 6). The straight bars of the cross cut through the cycles of sin and sacrifice. Reality broke through, and Jesus’ death truly cleansed our sin.
As for his resurrection that bright Sunday morning three days later? Pure gold.
Happy Easter, folks.
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Such a thoughtful post and reminder. Amen 💛
I just finished reading Leviticus myself not long ago. Thank you for putting into words some of the ideas I’ve been wrestling with too. Have a rich and blessed Easter weekend!