The Ashes of the Red Heifer

Numbers 19  •  8 min. read  •  grade level: 7
Listen from:
An Address to Young People.
Numbers is the wilderness book; God’s people are passing through the wilderness, on their way to Canaan; and I suppose that there is where we are. Positionally, it is true we are seated in Christ in heavenly places. There is where God reckons us to be; and so we shall be, in His own time.
But, actually, as to the literal bodily condition in which we find ourselves today, we are not in heaven. Far from it! We would dislike to think that we were in heaven, surrounded by what we are now. We would hesitate to think that heaven is what we find ourselves in, as we go through this world day by day. No, we are in the wilderness, and we are on our way to that promised land – which we are sure we are going to reach. While on our way, we may have a hard time as did the children of Israel in the wilderness. The things that they experienced are recorded for our example, that we might profit by their disobedience – and by their obedience too, whatever measure of it there was.
This slaughter of the red heifer is one of the unique offerings, inasmuch as it does not seem to have been repeated. That great day, the Day of Atonement, was observed each year. The Passover came around each year likewise – it was repeated year after year; but not so with the red heifer. The red heifer seems to have been but a single offering that was made – not that the occasion on which it was offered meant anything, but that the ashes of that heifer, preserved throughout the coming generations, should be used as a purification for sin, not as commemorating any certain day; not as being offered on any certain day; but that the ashes themselves had a signification that is peculiar to this offering.
Now, we will look at it just a little in detail. It was to be “a red heifer without spot, wherein is no blemish, and upon which never came yoke.” I suppose that if I were to ask the youngest person here, who is a Christian, he could tell me what is typified by that. None less than the blessed Lord Jesus, the only One of whom it could truly be said, He was “without spot,” and “wherein is no blemish.”
We live in a world of such defilement that we get accustomed to defilement. But here was One that never had spot, never a wrong that our Lord committed – “without spot” or “blemish” – One on whom never came the yoke of sin. Sin is one yoke He never bore. How different from us; we get the yoke of sin on us, and what a yoke sin is! There is freedom from its galling power through the redemption in Christ, and the deliverance that comes to us through bowing to His Word. And yet, how often, in spite of that, we still feel now and then that yoke of sin. Well here was One who never bore the yoke. He never knew what it was to be under either the curse of sin (I speak now, apart from Calvary), or under its power. He was One who went through this world perfectly, absolutely free from defilement – the Spotless One.
Such a heifer was to be taken, brought to the priest, taken outside the camp, and there slain. Now that shows us, inasmuch as the offering was made without the camp, that it was a sin offering, for it was only sin offerings that were to be burnt without the camp. So that the nature of this offering is that it is an offering for sin.
Eleazar took of her blood, and sprinkled it before the tabernacle of the congregation. This sin offering, though it is offered without the camp, and burnt without the camp, is yet identified with the place where God has His dwelling. By the blood being sprinkled before that tabernacle is shown the fact that there is a link there between that righteous God that is dwelling between those cherubim, and this strange offering that is going on outside the camp.
Then the heifer is burned – it is completely, wholly consumed. Nothing is left of it. And there is something else interesting, that is, in the burning of this heifer, the priest is taking cedar wood, and hyssop, and scarlet, and he is casting them into the fire. Well can we picture that: There is the heifer burning, the flames rising around that carcass; and while she is burning, the priest takes a piece of cedar wood. Now cedar was the noblest tree of which they knew anything in that day. It was a grand, towering overtopping tree.
Then he takes a plant, an insignificant one, quite useless, which grew out of walls, a plant called hyssop. Along with this he takes a piece of glowing scarlet – there is nothing brighter in the way of color than scarlet. This piece of brilliant scarlet, and the piece of the great, towering cedar tree, and the little bunch of humble hyssop, are all thrown into the midst of that burning fire where the heifer is being consumed.
Finally, the fire spends its force – there are a few glowing embers; and then these gradually die out, the smoke ceases to arise, and the ashes lie there in a heap, cold, dead.
Then another strange thing takes place: a suited person gathers up all these ashes, very carefully. None of them is wasted. They are all swept up, and gathered together, and put into some sort of a container, perhaps an urn. And then they are kept, and preserved, perhaps in a similar way to the present-day practice of preserving the ashes of one who has been cremated. And what is it all for? They are going to be used in special cases. When some one of the children of Israel comes in contact with that which defiles, that renders ceremonially unclean, unfit for association in the worship of Israel, these ashes – at least, a portion of them – are to be taken, placed in running water, and then this water is to be sprinkled on that person upon his tent and upon all his vessels. In view of this ceremony he is cleansed from his defilement and given access back into the privileges of the camp, as a worshipper again in good standing.
Now what is God trying to teach by all this? O, I believe there is a practical lesson – and I hope to make it simple – a most needful and wholesome lesson. As we said before, the offering of the red heifer occurred only once, and the ashes were gathered only once. That speaks to us of the fact that our blessed Lord Jesus died once; He will never die again. In Revelation 1:1818I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death. (Revelation 1:18), He says, “I am He that. . . was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore.” He lives to die no more. Death hath no more dominion over Him. No, your blessed Lord Jesus will never die for you again. Calvary’s cross will never be repeated. There will never again be the spectacle of the suffering Saviour hanging in shame on the cross – no, He died once. And now He is living, and He is living to make intercession for you.
But sometimes souls get distressed by the fact that after they are saved, have been brought to the Saviour; after they know Him, and after they have experienced conversion; after they know what it is to make their boast as a child of God; they find themselves still picking up defilement; that sin is finding a lodging in their lives and ways. They know that Christ will not again die for them; and What are they to do? The thing the children of Israel were to do when they found themselves defiled was, not to slay another red heifer, but to apply the ashes of the red heifer that had been slain.
Now, to put it simply, I believe we have in the ashes of the heifer, the memorial, or the remembrance of the death of Christ. The ashes of the red heifer are the memorial, or remembrance, of the fact that Christ has died for us. That is the great basic fact that we need to keep before our souls in connection with our way through a scene that is constantly defiling, that is: I have been redeemed; I have been bought; Christ has died for me; I am not my own, I belong to another.
Supposing, then, that a Christian finds himself getting defiled, going on with something that is dishonoring to the Lord, and he feels that he is defiled; What fact is going to bring him back, into communion with the Lord? His heart and his conscience are going to be touched with the truth of the death of Christ. Can I go on in this way, in this business, in this venture, in this practice, in this association, when I realize that the blessed Lord Jesus died for me to deliver me from this present evil world? Why, He has died for me! He has paid the price by His own precious life’s blood that He might deliver me and set me free from this. And shall I go on with it, or shall I continue to defile myself with it?
As the soul begins to meditate on Christ, and sees the end, for him, of this world; that by that cross he is crucified to the world, and the world to him, the soul brings in the death of Christ between himself and that defiling thing, and lets that thought speak to soul and conscience; he owns his departure, and he is graciously restored.
(To be continued.)