Having considered the sweet savor offerings we now approach the sacrifices for sin. These were divided into two classes, namely, sin offerings and trespass offerings. Of the former there were three grades; first, the offering for the priest that is anointed and for the whole congregation. These two were the same in their rites and ceremonies (compare verses 3-12 with verses 13-21). It was the same in result, whether it were the representative of the assembly or the assembly itself that sinned. In either case there were three things involved; God’s dwelling-place in the assembly, the worship of the assembly, and individual conscience.
Now inasmuch as all three depended upon the blood, we find in the first grade of sin offering there were three things done with the blood. It was sprinkled “seven times before the Lord, before the veil of the sanctuary.” This secured Jehovah’s relationship with the people and His dwelling in their midst. Again we read, “The priest shall put some of the blood upon the horns of the altar of sweet incense before the Lord, which is in the tabernacle of the congregation.” This secured the worship of the assembly. By putting the blood upon the golden altar the true basis of worship was preserved, so that the flame of the incense and the fragrance thereof might continually ascend. Finally, “He shall pour all the blood of the bullock at the bottom of the altar of the burnt offering, which is at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.” Here we have the claims of individual conscience fully answered; for the brazen altar was the place of individual approach. It was the place where God met the sinner.
In the two remaining grades, for a ruler or one of the common people, it was merely a question of individual conscience, and therefore there was only one thing done with the blood. It was all poured at the bottom of the altar of burnt offering (compare verse 7 with verses 25,30). There is divine precision in all this which demands the close attention of my reader, if only he desires to enter into the marvelous detail of this type.
This classification is beautifully simple and will help the reader to understand the different classes of offering. As to the different grades in each class, whether a bullock, a ram, a female, a bird, or a handful of flour, they would seem to be so many varied applications of the same grand truth.
Now there is this difference between the offering for a ruler and for one of the common people: in the former it was a male without blemish, in the latter a female without blemish. The sin of a ruler would necessarily exert a wider influence than that of a common person, and therefore a more powerful application of the value of the blood was needed. In Leviticus 5:13 we find cases demanding a still lower application of the sin offering — cases of swearing and of touching any uncleanness, in which the tenth part of an Ephah of fine flour was admitted as a sin offering (see chap. 5:11-13). What a contrast between the view of atonement presented by a ruler’s bullock and a poor man’s handful of flour! And yet in the latter, just as truly as in the former, we read, “it shall be forgiven him.”
The reader will observe that Leviticus 5:1-13 forms a part of chapter 4. Both are comprehended under one head and present the doctrine of sin offering in all its applications from the bullock to the handful of flour. Each class of offering is introduced by the words, “And the Lord spake unto Moses.” Thus, for example, the sweet savor offerings (chaps. 1-3) are introduced by the words, “The Lord called unto Moses.” These words are not repeated until Leviticus 4:1, where they introduce the sin offering. They occur again at Leviticus 5:14, where they introduce the trespass offering for wrongs done in the holy things of the Lord, and again at chapter 6:1, where they introduce the trespass offering for wrongs done to one’s neighbor.
The effect of individual sin could not extend beyond individual conscience. The sin of a ruler or of one of the common people could not in its influence reach the altar of incense — the place of priestly worship. Neither could it reach to the veil of the sanctuary — the sacred boundary of God’s dwelling-place in the midst of His people. It is well to ponder this. We must never raise a question of personal sin or failure in the place of priestly worship or in the assembly. It must be settled in the place of personal approach. Many err as to this. They come into the assembly, or into the ostensible place of priestly worship, with their conscience defiled and thus drag down the whole assembly and mar its worship. This should be closely looked into and carefully guarded against. We need to walk more watchfully in order that our conscience may ever be in the light. And when we fail, as, alas! we do in many things, let us have to do with God in secret about our failure in order that true worship and the true position of the assembly may always be kept with fullness and clearness before the soul.
Having said thus much as to the three grades of sin offering, we shall proceed to examine in detail the principles unfolded in the first of these. In so doing we shall be able to form in some measure a just conception of the principles of all. Before, however, entering upon the direct comparison already proposed I would call my reader’s attention to a very prominent point set forth in the second verse of this fourth chapter. It is contained in the expression, “If a soul shall sin through ignorance.” This presents a truth of the deepest blessedness in connection with the atonement of the Lord. Jesus Christ.
In contemplating that atonement we see infinitely more than the mere satisfaction of the claims of conscience, even though that conscience had reached the highest point of refined sensibility. It is our privilege to see therein that which has fully satisfied all the claims of divine holiness, divine justice, and divine majesty. The holiness of God’s dwelling-place and the ground of His association with His people could never be regulated by the standard of man’s conscience, no matter how high that standard might be. There are many things which man’s conscience would pass over, many things which might escape man’s cognizance, many things which his heart might deem all right, which God could not tolerate, and which as a consequence would interfere with man’s approach to, his worship of, and his relationship with God. Wherefore, if the atonement of Christ merely made provision for such sins as come within the compass of man’s apprehension, we should find ourselves very far short of the true ground of peace. We need to understand that sin has been atoned for according to God’s measurement thereof — that the claims of His throne have been perfectly answered — that sin as seen in the light of His inflexible holiness has been divinely judged. This is what gives settled peace to the soul. A full atonement has been made for the believer’s sins of ignorance, as well as for his known sins. The sacrifice of Christ lays the foundation of his relationship and fellowship with God according to the divine estimate of the claims thereof.
A clear sense of this is of unspeakable value. Unless this feature of the atonement be laid hold of there cannot be settled peace, nor will there be any just moral sense of the extent and fullness of the work of Christ or of the true nature of the relationship founded thereon. God knew what was needed in order that man might be in His presence without a single misgiving; and He has made ample provision for it in the cross. Fellowship between God and man were utterly impossible if sin had not been disposed of according to God’s thoughts about it, for albeit man’s conscience were satisfied the question would ever be suggesting itself, Has God been satisfied? If this question could not be answered in the affirmative, fellowship could never subsist. The thought would be continually intruding itself upon the heart that things were manifesting themselves in the details of life which divine holiness could not tolerate. True, we might be doing such things through ignorance, but this could not alter the matter before God, inasmuch as all is known to Him. Hence there would be continual apprehension, doubt, and misgiving.
All these things are divinely met by the fact that sin has been atoned for, not according to our ignorance, but according to God’s knowledge. The assurance of this gives great rest to the heart and conscience. All *God’s claims have been answered by His own work. He Himself has made the provision, and therefore the more refined the believer’s conscience becomes under the combined action of the word and Spirit of God, the more he grows in a divinely adjusted sense of all that morally befits the sanctuary, the more keenly alive he becomes to everything which is unsuited to the divine presence, the fuller, clearer, deeper and more vigorous will be his apprehension of the infinite value of that sin offering which has not only traveled beyond the utmost bounds of human conscience, but also met in absolute perfection all the requirements of divine holiness.
Nothing can more forcibly express man’s incompetency to deal with sin than the fact of there being such a thing as a sin of ignorance. How could he deal with that which he knows not? How could he dispose of that which has never even come within the range of his conscience? Impossible. Man’s ignorance of sin proves his total inability to put it away. If he does not know of it, what can he do about it? Nothing. He is as powerless as he is ignorant. Nor is this all. The fact of a sin of ignorance demonstrates most clearly the uncertainty which must attend upon every settlement of the question of sin, in which no higher claims have been responded to than those put forth by the most refined human conscience. There can never be settled peace upon this ground. There will always be the painful apprehension that there is something wrong underneath. If the heart be not led into settled repose by the Scripture testimony that the inflexible claims of divine Justice have been answered, there must, of necessity, be a sensation of uneasiness, and every such sensation resents a barrier to our worship, our communionn, and our testimony. If I am uneasy in reference to the settlement of the question of sin, I cannot worship, I cannot enjoy communion either with God or His people, nor can I be an intelligent or effective witness for Christ. The he heart must be at rest before God as to the perfect remission of sin before we can “worship Him in spirit and in truth.” If there be guilt on the conscience, there must be terror in the heart; and, assuredly, a heart filled with terror cannot be a happy or a worshiping heart. It is only from a heart filled with that sweet and sacred repose which the blood of Christ imparts, that true and acceptable worship can ascend to the Father. The same principle holds good with respect to our fellowship with the people of God and our service and testimony amongst men — all must rest upon the foundation of settled peace, and this peace rests upon the foundation of a perfectly purged conscience, and this purged conscience rests upon the foundatin of the perfect remission of all our sins, whether they be sins of knowledge or sins of ignorance.
We shall now proceed to compare the sin-offering with the burnt-offering, in doing so we shall find two very different aspects of Christ. But although the aspects are different, it is one and the same Christ; and hence the sacrifice in each case was “without blemish.” This is easily understood. It matters not in what aspect we contemplate the Lord Jesus Christ, He must ever be seen as the same pure, spotless, holy, perfect One. True, He did, in His abounding grace, stoop to the the Sin-bearer of His people; but it was a perfect, spotless Christ who did so; and it would be nothing short of diabolical wickedness to take occasion from the depth of His humiliation to tarnish the personal glory of the humbled One. The intrinsic excellence, the unsullied purity, and the divine glory of our blessed Lord apear in the sin-offering as fully as in the burnt-offering. It matters not in what relationship He stands, what office He fills, what work He performs, what position He occupies, His personal glories shine out in all their divine effulgence.
This truth of one and the same Christ, whether in the burnt-offering or in the sin-offering, is seen not only in the fact that in each case the offering was “without blemish,” but also in “the law of the sin-offering,” where we read, “This is the law of the sin-offering: In the place where the burnt-offering is killed shall the sin-offering be killed before the Lorrd: it is most holy” (Lev. 6:25). Both types point to one and the same great Antitype, though tyey present Him in such contrasted aspects of His work. In the burnt-offering, Christ is seen meeting the divine affectins; in the sin-offering, He is seen metting the depths of human need. That presents Him to us as the Accomplisher of the will of God; this, as the Bearer of the sin of man. In the former, we are taught the preciousness of the sacrifice; in the latter the hatefulness of sin. Thus much, as to the two offerings in the main. The most minute examination of the details will only tend to establish the mind in the truth of this general statement.
In the first place, when considering the burnt offering we observed that it was a voluntary offering. “He shall offer it of his own voluntary will.”
Now the word “voluntary” does not occur in the sin offering. This is precisely what we might expect. It is in full keeping with the specific object of the Holy Spirit in the burnt offering, to set it forth as a free-will offering. It was Christ’s meat and drink to do the will of God, whatever that will might be. He never thought of inquiring what ingredients were in the cup which the Father was putting into His hand. It was quite sufficient for Him that the Father had mingled it. Thus it was with the Lord Jesus as foreshadowed by the burnt offering. But in the sin offering we have quite a different line of truth unfolded. This type introduces Christ to our thoughts, not as the voluntary accomplisher of the will of God, but as the bearer of that terrible thing called sin, and the endurer of all its appalling consequences, of which the most appalling to Him was the hiding of God’s countenance. Hence the word “voluntary” would not harmonize with the object of the Spirit in the sin offering. It would be as completely out of place in that type as it is divinely in place in the burnt offering. Its presence and its absence are alike divine; and both alike exhibit the perfect, the divine precision of the types of Leviticus.
Now the point of contrast which we have been considering explains, or rather harmonizes, two expressions used by our Lord. He says on one occasion, “the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?” And again, “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” The former of these expressions was the full carrying out of the words with which He entered upon His course, namely, “Lo, I come to do thy will, O God,” and, moreover, it is the utterance of Christ as the burnt offering. The latter, on the other hand, is the utterance of Christ when contemplating the place which He was about to occupy as the sin offering. What that place was and what was involved to Him in taking it we shall see as we proceed; but it is interesting and instructive to find the entire doctrine of the two offerings involved, as it were, in the fact that a single word introduced in the one is omitted in the other. If in the burnt offering we find the perfect’ readiness of heart with which Christ offered Himself for the accomplishment of the will of God, then in the sin offering we find how perfectly He entered into all the consequences of man’s sin, and how He traveled into the most remote distance of man’s position as regards God. He delighted to do the will of God; He shrank from losing for a moment the light of His blessed countenance.
No one offering could have foreshadowed Him in both these phases. We needed a type to present Him to us as One delighting to do the will of God, and we needd a type to present Him to us as One whose holy nature shrank from the consequences of imputed sin. Blessed by God, we have both. The burnt-offering furnishes the one; the sin-offering, the other. Wherefore, the more fully we enter into the devotion of Christ’s heart to God, the more fully we shall apprehend His abhorrance of sin; and vice versa. Each throws the other into relief; and the use of the word “voluntary” in the one and not in the other, fixes the leading import of each.
But it may be said, Was it not the will of God that Christ should offer Himself as an atonement for sin? And if so, how could there be aught of shrinking from the accomplishment of that will? Assuredly, it was “the determinate counsel” of God that Christ should suffer, and, moreover, it was Christ’s joy to do the will of God; but how are we to understand the expression, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me”? Is it not the utterance of Christ? And is there no express type of the Utterer thereof? Unquestionably. There would be a serious blank among the types of the Mosaic economy were there not one to reflect the Lord Jesus in the exact attitude in which the above expression presents Him. But the burnt-offering does not thus reflect Him. There is not a single circumstance connected with that offering which would correspond with such language. The sin-offering alone furnishes the fitting type of the Lord jesus as the One who poured forth those accents of intense agony; for in it alone do we find the circumstances which evoked such accents from the depths of His spotless soul. The awful shadow of the cross, with its shame, its curse, and its exclusion from the light of God’s countenance, was passing across His spirit, and he could not even contemplate it without an “If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me.” But no sooner had He uttered these words than His profound subjection manifest itself in “Thy will be done.” What a bitter “cup” it must have been to elicit from a perfectly subject heart the words, “Let it pass from Me”! What perfect subjection there must have been, when, in the presence of so bitter a cup, the heart could breath forth, “Thy will be done”!
We shall now consider the typical act of “laying on of hands.” This act was common both to the burnt-offering and the sin-offering; but in the case of the former, it identified the offer with an unblemished offering; in the case of the latter, it involved the transfer of the sin of the offerer to the head of the offering. Thus it was in the type; and when we look at the Antitype, we learn a truth of the most comforting and edifying nature — a truth which, were it more clearly understood and fully experienced, would impart a far more settled peace that is ordinarily possessed.
What, then, is the doctrine set forth in the laying on of hands? It is this: Christ was “made sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Cor. 5). He took our position with all its consequences, in order that we might get His position with all its consequences. He was treated assin upon the cross, that we might be treated as righteousness in the presence of Infinite Holiness. He was cast out of God’s presence because He had sin on Him by imputation, that we might be received into God’s house and into His bosom because we have a perfect righteousness by imputation. He had toendure the hiding of God’s countenance, that we might bask in the light of that countenance. He had to pass through three hours’ darkness that we might walk in everlasting light. He was forsaken of God for a time that we might enjoy His presence forever. All that was due to us as ruined sinners was laid upon Him in order that all that was due to Him as the accomplisher of redemption might be ours. There was everything against Him when He hung upon the cursed tree in order that there might be nothing against us. He was identified with us in the reality of death and judgment in order that we might be identified with Him in the reality of life and righteousness. He drank the cup of wrath, the cup of trembling, that we might drink the cup of salvation — the cup of infinite favor. He was treated according to our deserts that we might be treated according to His.
Such is the wondrous truth illustrated by the ceremonial act of imposition of hands. When the worshipper had laid his hand upon the head of the burnt offering it ceased to be a question as to what he was or what he deserved, and became entirely a question of what the offering was in the judgment of Jehovah. If the offering was without blemish, so was the offerer; if the offering was accepted, so was the offerer. They were perfectly identified. The act of laying on of hands constituted them one in God’s view. He looked at the offerer through the medium of the offering.
Thus it was in the case of the burnt offering. But in the sin offering, when the offerer had laid his hand upon the head of the offering it became a question of what the offerer was and what he deserved. The offering was treated according to the deserts of the offerer. They were perfectly identified. The act of laying on of hands constituted them one in the judgment of God. The sin of the offerer was dealt with in the sin offering; the person of the offerer was accepted in the burnt offering. This made a vast difference. Hence, though the act of laying on of hands was common to both types, and, moreover, though it was expressive in the case of each of identification, yet were the consequences as different as possible. The just treated as the unjust; the unjust accepted in the just. “Christ hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring, us to God.” This is the doctrine. Our sins brought Christ to the cross; but He brings us to God. And if He brings us to God it is in His own acceptableness as risen from the dead, having put away our sins according to the perfectness of His own work. He bore away our sins far from the sanctuary, of God in order that He might bring us nigh, even into the holiest of all, in full confidence of heart, having the conscience purged by His precious blood from every stain of sin.
Now the more, minutely we compare all the details of the burnt offering and the sin offering, the more clearly shall we apprehend the truth of what has been above stated in reference to the laying on of hands and the results thereof in each case.
In the first chapter of this volume we noticed the fact that the sons of Aaron are introduced in the burnt offering but not in the sin offering. As priests they were privileged to stand around the altar and behold the flame of an acceptable sacrifice ascending to the Lord. But in the sin offering in its primary aspect it was a question of the solemn judgment of sin and not of priestly worship or admiration, and therefore the sons of Aaron do not appear. It is as convicted sinners that we have to do with Christ as the Antitype of the sin-offering: it is as worshiping priests, clothed in garments of salvation, that we contemplate Christ as the Anti-type of the burnt-offering.
But, further, my reader may observe that the burnt-offering was “flayed,” the sin-offering was not; the burnt-offering was “cut into his pieces,” the sin-offering was not; “the inwards and the legs” of the burnt-offering were “washed in water,” which act was entirely omitted in the sin-offering. Lastly, the burnt-offering was burnt upon the altar, the sin-offering was burnt without the camp. These are weighty points of difference, arising simply out of the distinctive character of the offerings. We know there is nothing in the Word of God without its own specific meaning; and every intelligent and careful student of Scripture will notice the above points of difference, and when he notices them, he will naturally seek to ascertain their real import. Ignorance of this import there may be, but indifference to it there should not. In any section of inspiration, but especially one so rich as that which lies before us, to pass over a single point would be to offer dishonor to the divine Author, and to deprive our own souls of much profit. We should hang over the most minute details, either to adore God’s wisdom in them, or to confess our own ignorance of them. To pass them by, in a spirit of indifference, is to imply that the Holy Spirit has taken the trouble to write what we do not deem worthy of the desire to understand. This is what no right-minded Christian would presume to think. If the Spirit, in writing upon the ordinance of the sin-offering, has omitted the various rites above alluded to — rites which get a prominent place in the ordainance of the burnt-offering, there must assuredly be some good reason for, and some important meaning in, His doing so. These we should seek to apprehend, and no doubt they arise out of the special design of the divine mind in each offering. The sin-offering sets forth that aspect of Christ’s work in which He is seen taking judicially the place which belonged to us morally. For this reason we could not look for that intense expression of what He was in all His secret springs of action, as unfolded in the typical act of “flaying.” Neither could there be that enlarged exhibition of what He was, not merely as a whole, but in the most minute features of His character, as seen in the act of “cutting it into his pieces.” Nor yet could there be that manifestation of what He was personally, practically, and intrinsically, as set fort in the significant act of “washing the inwards and legs in water.”
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 be taken away, as it was taken off from the bullock of the sacrifice of peace offerings: and the priest shall burn them upon the altar of the burnt offering” (Lev. 4:8-10). 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” (vss. 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 worshipper, as in the peace offering. It was wholly burnt without the camp. “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. 6:30). “For the bodies of those beasts, whose blood is brought unto 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. 13:11-12).
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 settle 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 offer might enjoy. Hence, therefore, our Sacrifice being divine and eternal, our rest is divine and eternal also. As in 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, an 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 of the ashes of an 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. 11:11-14).
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 the 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. 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 tree. 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 worshipper 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. 4:25). 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, before 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 anything 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.
This, and this alone, is the basis of worship. The full assurance of sin put away ministers, not to a spirit of self-confidence, but to a spirit of praise, thankfulness, and worship. It produces, not a spirit of self-complacency, but of Christ-complacency, which, blessed be God, is the spirit which shall characterize the redeemed throughout eternity. It does not lead one to think little of sin, but to think much of the grace which has perfectly pardoned it, and of the blood which has perfectly canceled it. It is impossible that any one can gaze on the cross, can see the place which Christ took, can meditate upon the sufferings which He endured, can ponder on those three terrible hours of darkness, and at the same time think lightly of sin. When all these things are entered into in the power of the Holy Spirit there are two results which must follow, namely, an abhorrence of sin in all its forms, and a genuine love to Christ, His people, and His cause.
Let us now consider what was done with the flesh or body of the sacrifice in which, as has been stated, we have the true ground of discipleship. “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” (Chapter 4:12). This act is to be viewed in a double way: first as expressing the place which the Lord Jesus took for us as bearing sin; secondly as expressing the place into which He was cast by a world which rejected Him. It is to this latter point that I would here call my reader’s attention.
The use which the apostle in Hebrews 13 makes of Christ’s having suffered without the gate is deeply practical. “Let us go forth therefore unto Him without the camp, bearing His reproach.” If the sufferings of Christ have secured us an entrance into heaven, the place where He suffered expresses our rejection from earth. His death has procured us a city on high; the place where He died divests us of a city below. The Epistle to the Ephesians furnishes the most elevated view of the church’s place above, and gives it to us, not merely as to the title, but also as to the mode. The title is assuredly the blood but the mode is thus stated: “But God, who is rich in mercy, for His great love wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ (by grace ye are saved); and hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:4-6).
“He suffered without the gate,” and in so doing He set aside Jerusalem as the present center of divine operation. There is no such thing now as a consecrated spot on the earth. Christ has taken His place as a suffering one outside the range of this world’s religion, its politics, and all that pertains to it. The world hated Him and cast Him out. Wherefore the word is “go forth.” This is the motto as regards everything that men would set up here in the form of a camp, no matter what that camp may be. If men set up a holy city you must look for a rejected Christ without the gate. If men set up a religious camp, call it by what name you please, you must go forth out of it in order to find a rejected Christ. It is not that blind superstition will not grope amid the ruins of Jerusalem in search of relics of Christ. It assuredly will do so, and has done so. It will affect to find out and do honor to the site of His cross and to His sepulcher. Nature’s covetousness, too, taking advantage of nature’s superstition, has carried on for ages a lucrative traffic under the crafty plea of doing honor to the so-called sacred localities of antiquity. But a single ray of light from Revelation’s heavenly lamp is sufficient to enable us to say that you must go forth of all these things in order to find and enjoy communion with a rejected Christ.
However, my reader will need to remember that there is far more involved in the soul-stirring call to go forth than a mere escape from the gross absurdities of an ignorant superstition, or the designs of a crafty covetousness. There are many who can powerfully and eloquently expose all such things who are very far indeed from any thought of responding to the apostolic summons. When men set up a camp and rally round a standard on which is emblazoned some important dogma of truth or some valuable institution, when they can appeal to an orthodox creed, an advanced and enlightened scheme of doctrine, a splendid ritual, capable of satisfying the most ardent aspirations of man’s devotional nature — when any or all of these things exist it demands much spiritual intelligence to discern the real force and proper application of the words, “let us go forth,” and much spiritual energy and decision to act upon them. They should, however, be discerned and acted upon, for it is perfectly certain that the atmosphere of a camp, let its ground or standard be what it may, is destructive of personal communion with a rejected Christ; and no so-called religious advantage can ever make up for the loss of that communion.
It is the tendency of our hearts to drop into cold stereotyped forms. This has ever been the case in the professing church. These forms may have originated in real power. They may have resulted from positive visitations of the Spirit of God. The temptation is to stereotype the form when the spirit and power have all departed. This is in principle to set up a camp. The Jewish system could boast a divine origin. A Jew could triumphantly point to the temple with its splendid system of worship, its priesthood, its sacrifices, its entire furniture, and show that it had all been handed down from the God of Israel. He could give chapter and verse, as we say, for everything connected with the system to which he was attached. Where is the system, ancient, mediaeval, or modern, that could put forth such lofty and powerful pretensions, or come down upon the heart with such an overwhelming weight of authority? And yet the command was to “GO FORTH.”
This is a deeply solemn matter. It concerns us all, because we are all prone to slip away from communion with a living Christ and sink into dead routine. Hence the practical power of the words, “go forth therefore unto Him.” It is not, Go forth from one system to another, from one set of opinions to another, from one company of people to another. No; but go forth from everything that merits the appellation of a camp, to Him who suffered without the gate. The Lord Jesus is as thoroughly outside the gate now as He was when He suffered there eighteen centuries ago. What was it that put Him outside? The religious world of that day: and the religious world of that day is in spirit and principle the religious world of the present moment. The world is the world still. “There is nothing new under the sun.” Christ and the world are not one. The world has covered itself with the cloak of Christianity; but it is only in order that its hatred to Christ may work itself up into more deadly forms underneath. Let us not deceive ourselves. If we will walk with a rejected Christ we must be a rejected people. If our Master suffered within the gate, we cannot expect to reign within the gate. If we walk in His footsteps, whither will they lead us? Surely not to the high places of this Godless, Christless world.
“His path, uncheered by earthly smiles,
Led only to the cross.”
He is a despised Christ, a rejected Christ, a Christ outside the camp. Oh! then, dear Christian reader, let us go forth to Him bearing His reproach. Let us not bask in the sunshine of this world’s favor, seeing it crucified and still hates with an unmitigated hatred the beloved One to whom we owe our present and eternal all, and who loves us with a love which many waters cannot quench. Let us not, directly or indirectly, accredit that thing which calls itself by His sacred name, but in reality hates His Person, hates His ways, hates His truth, hates the bare mention of His advent. Let us be faithful to an absent Lord. Let us live for Him who died for us. While our consciences repose in His blood let our heart’s affections entwine themselves around His Person, so that our separation from this present evil world may not be merely a matter of cold principle, but an affectionate separation, because the object of our affections is not here.
May the Lord deliver us from the influence of that consecrated, prudential selfishness so common at the present time, which would not be without religiousness, but is the enemy of the cross of Christ. What we want in order to make a successful stand against this terrible form of evil is not peculiar views or special principles or curious theories or cold intellectual accuracy. We want a deep-toned devotedness to the Person of the Son of God; a whole-hearted consecration of ourselves, body, soul, and spirit, to His service; an earnest longing for His glorious advent. These, my reader, are the special wants of the times in which you and I live. Will you not then join in uttering from the very depths of your heart the cry, “O Lord, revive thy work!” — “accomplish the number of thine elect!” — “hasten thy kingdom!” — “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!”