Scripture Daily

Context No. 791 of 4322 · Leviticus

Context · Reflection

Leviticus 16:1-5: in context

1The LORD spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron, when they came near before the LORD, and died; 2and the LORD said to Moses, “Tell Aaron your brother not to come at just any time into the Most Holy Place within the veil, before the mercy seat which is on the ark; lest he die; for I will appear in the cloud on the mercy seat. 3“Aaron shall come into the sanctuary with a young bull for a sin offering, and a ram for a burnt offering. 4He shall put on the holy linen tunic. He shall have the linen trousers on his body, and shall put on the linen sash, and he shall be clothed with the linen turban. They are the holy garments. He shall bathe his body in water, and put them on. 5He shall take from the congregation of the children of Israel two male goats for a sin offering, and one ram for a burnt offering.

The chapter that gives Israel its Day of Atonement opens with a shadow over it. The LORD spoke to Moses, it says, after the death of the two sons of Aaron, who had come near before the LORD and died. Nadab and Abihu had offered unauthorized fire, approached the holy on their own terms and in their own way, and it had killed them. So when God now gives instructions for the high priest, they begin with a warning shaped by those two graves. Tell Aaron not to come at just any time into the Most Holy Place behind the veil, God says, lest he die, for I appear in the cloud above the mercy seat.

Not at any time. Not casually, not whenever the mood strikes, not on a whim. There is a way to come, and it is careful: only once a year, only with the blood of a sin offering, only after bathing and putting on the plain holy linen. What is striking is that both things are true at once. Aaron may come in, right into the innermost place where God's presence rests; the door is not sealed forever. But he may not treat it lightly, because the God who waits there is holy enough that two priests already lie dead for approaching him presumptuously. The astonishing thing the New Testament will later announce is that through Christ this hedged-about access is thrown open, and we may enter with boldness. But the boldness was never the same as casualness. The invitation to come near never stopped being an invitation to come near a consuming fire.

Aaron could enter God's presence, but never carelessly, never on his own terms. Do I come to God with the reverence his holiness deserves, or have I grown casual with the One I am actually approaching?

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