Schoolmaster to Christ
LEVITICUS CHAPTER 3

Introduction to Chapter 3: The more closely we contemplate the offerings, the more fully we see that no one offering furnishes a complete view of Christ. It is only by putting all together that such an idea can be formed. As might be expected, each offering has features peculiar to itself. The peace offering differs in many ways from the burnt offering; and a clear understanding of the ways any one type differs from others will help in understanding its special import.

Scripture Reading: Leviticus 3 (KJV)

In comparing the peace offering with the burnt offering, we find that the threefold action of "flaying," "cutting it into its pieces," and "washing the inwards and legs" is omitted; and this is quite in character. As we have seen, in the burnt offering we find Christ offering Himself to and accepted by God, and thus, the completeness of His self-surrender and the process to which He submitted Himself had to be typified. In the peace offering, the leading thought is communion of the worshipper. It is not Christ as exclusively enjoyed by God, but as enjoyed by the worshipper, in communion with God. Therefore, the whole line of action is less intense. No heart can possibly rise to the height of Christ's devotedness to God, or of God's acceptance of Christ. None but God Himself could duly note the pulsations of the heart that throbbed in the bosom of Jesus; and, therefore, a type was needed to set forth that one feature of Christ's death – His perfect devotedness to God. This type we have in the burnt offering, in which, alone, we observe the threefold action above referred to.

This is also so in reference to the character of the sacrifice. In the burnt offering, it should be "a male without blemish;" whereas, in the peace offering, it might be "a male or female," though equally "without blemish." The nature of Christ, whether we view Him as enjoyed exclusively by God or by the worshipper in fellowship with God, must ever be one and the same. There can be no alteration in that. The reason "a female" was permitted in the peace offering was because it was a question of the worshipper's capacity to enjoy that blessed One, who, in Himself, is "the same yesterday, today, and forever" (Heb. 13).

Again, in the burnt offering, we read, “The priest shall burn all;” whereas, in the peace offering, a part only was burnt, that is, “the fat, the kidneys, and the caul.” This makes it exceedingly simple. The most excellent portion of the sacrifice was laid on God's altar. The inward parts – the hidden energies – the tender sensibilities of the blessed Jesus, were devoted to God as the only One who could perfectly enjoy them. Aaron and his sons fed upon "the wave breast" and "the heave shoulder."¹ In communion with their head, all members of the priestly family had their proper portion of the peace offering. All true believers are now, by grace, constituted priests unto God, and can feed on the affections and strength of the true Peace Offering – can enjoy the happy assurance of having His loving heart and powerful shoulder to comfort and sustain them continually.²

"This is the portion of the anointing of Aaron, and of the anointing of his sons, out of the offerings of the Lord made by fire, in the day when he presented them to minister unto the Lord in the priest's office; which the Lord commanded to be given them of the children of Israel, in the day that he anointed them by a statute for ever throughout their generations" (Lev. 7:35, 36).

These are important points of difference between the burnt offering and peace offering. When taken together, they clearly set the two offerings before the mind. There is something more in the peace offering than the abstract devotedness of Christ to the will of God. The worshipper is introduced not merely as a spectator, but as a participator; not merely to gaze but to feed. This gives character to this offering. When we look at the Lord Jesus in the burnt offering, we see Him as One whose heart was devoted to the one object of glorifying God and accomplishing His will. But when we see Him in the peace offering, we find One who has a place for a worthless, helpless sinner in His loving heart and on His powerful shoulder. In the burnt offering, the breast and shoulder, legs and inwards, head and fat, were burned on the altar – all went up as a sweet savor to God. But in the peace offering, the portion that suits us is left for us. Nor are we left to feed in solitude on that which meets our individual need. No; we feed in communion – with God, and fellow priests. We feed in full assurance that the same sacrifice that feeds the soul has already refreshed God’s heart; and further, that the same portion that feeds us individually feeds all our fellow worshippers. Communion is the order here – communion with God and the communion of saints. There was no such thing as isolation in the peace offering. God had His portion, and the priestly family had theirs.

So it is with the Antitype of the peace offering. The same Jesus who is the object of heaven's deliht, is the spring of joy, strength, and comfort to every believing heart; and not only to every heart, but also in fellowship to the whole church³. In His exceeding grace, God⁴ has given Christians the same object that He has Himself. "Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ" (1 Jn. 1). True, our thoughts of Jesus can never rise to the height of God's thoughts. Our estimation of such an object will always fall far short of His; and, hence, in the type, the house of Aaron could not partake of the fat. But though we can never rise to the standard of God’s estimation of Christ's Person and sacrifice, nevertheless, we are occupied with the same object. Therefore, the house of Aaron had "the wave breast and the heave shoulder." All this is filled with comfort and joy for the heart. The Lord Jesus Christ – the One "who was dead, but is alive for evermore," is now the exclusive object before the eye and thoughts of God; and in perfect grace He has given us a portion in the same all-glorious Person. In other words, Christ is also our object – the object of our hearts and the theme of our song. "Having made peace by the blood of his cross," He ascended into heaven, and sent down the Holy Spirit, that "other Comforter," by whose powerful ministrations we feed on the breast and shoulder of our divine "Peace Offering." Jesus Christ is our peace; and what joy it is to know that God delights in establishing our peace with the sweet odor of the Peace Offering that refreshes His heart. This imparts a peculiar charm to this type. As the burnt offering, Christ commands admiration of the heart; as the peace offering, Christ establishes peace of the conscience and meets the deep and manifold necessities of the soul. The sons of Aaron might stand around the altar of burnt offering; they might behold the flame of that offering ascending to the God of Israel; they might see the sacrifice reduced to ashes; they might bow their heads and worship; but they carried nothing away for themselves. Not so in the peace offering. In it they not only beheld that which emitted a sweet odor to God, but it also yielded a substantial portion on which they could feed in fellowship.

As true priests, it heightens our enjoyment to know that God has had His portion, before we get the breast and shoulder. This thought gives tone and energy, unction and elevation to worship and communion. It unfolds the amazing grace of Him who has given us the same object, the same theme, the same joy as Himself. Nothing lower – nothing less than this could satisfy Him. The Father will have the prodigal feeding on the fatted calf, in fellowship with Himself. He assigns us a place at His own table, and gives us a portion of that on which He Himself feeds. The language of the peace offering is, "it is meet that we should make merry and be glad" – "Let us eat and be merry." Such is the precious grace of God. Without a doubt, as partakers of such grace, we have reason to be glad – a continual stream of praise and thanksgiving should flow from the heart when we hear God saying, "Let us eat and be merry." God's joy in the salvation of sinners⁵; His joy in the communion of saints, well surely elicit the admiration of men and angels throughout eternity.

Having briefly compared the peace offering with the burnt offering, we now briefly glance at the peace offering in connection with the meat offering. The main point of difference is this: in the peace offering there was blood-shedding; in the meat offering there was not. They were both "sweet savour" offerings; and as we learn from Leviticus 7:12, the two offerings are intimately associated. As we shall see, both the connection and contrast are filled with meaning and instruction.

Only in communion with God can the soul contemplate the humanity of Jesus Christ. By the Holy Word, God the Spirit⁶ imparts and directs the vision by which we can gaze on "the Man Christ Jesus." Our Lord might have been revealed "in the likeness of sinful flesh;" He might have lived and labored on this earth; He might have shone brightly amid the darkness of this world; He might have passed rapidly across this world's horizon like a brilliant luminary; and all the while beyond the range of man's vision.

Man could not enter into the joy of spiritual communion without a basis upon which such communion might rest. In the peace offering, this basis is fully and clearly established. "He shall lay his hand upon the head of his offering, and kill it at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation: and Aaron's sons, the priests, shall sprinkle the blood upon the altar round about" (Lev. 3:2).

Here we have what the meet offering does not supply – a solid foundation for the worshipper's communion with all the fullness, preciousness, and beauty of Christ. Standing on the platform provided by "the precious blood of Christ," we can, with tranquilized hearts and worshipping spirits, range throughout all the wondrous scenes of the manhood of the Lord Jesus Christ. If we only had the meat offering aspect of Christ, we would lack the title by which and the ground on which to contemplate and enjoy Him. Without blood-shedding there could be no title – no standing place for the sinner. But, Leviticus 7:12 links the meat offering with the peace offering, and by so doing teaches us that when our souls have found peace we can delight in the One who has "made peace," and is "our peace."

We must not forget that while we have the shedding and sprinkling of blood in the peace offering, yet sin-bearing is not the thought. When Christ is viewed in the peace offering, He does not stand before us as bearer of our sins, as in the sin and trespass offerings; but (having borne them) as the ground of our peaceful and happy fellowship with God. If sin-bearing were in question, it could not be said, "It is an offering made by fire of a sweet savour unto the Lord" (Lev. 3:5)⁷. Though sin-bearing is not the thought, still, there is full provision in the peace offering for one who knows himself to be a sinner. To have fellowship with God we must be "in the light;" and we can be there only on the ground of that precious statement, "the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin" (1 Jn. 1). The more we abide in the light and value that blood, the deeper our sense of everything contrary to that light and blood. The more closely we walk with God, the more we shall know of "the unsearchable riches of Christ."

It is important to always understand that we are in the presence of God only as the partakers of divine life – standing in divine righteousness. The Father could have the prodigal at his table only if clothed in "the best robe" – in all the integrity of that relationship in which He viewed him. Had the prodigal been left in his rags, or placed "as a hired servant" in the house, we would have never heard those glorious words, "Let us eat and be merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." Thus it is with all true believers – the old nature is not recognized as existing before God. He counts it dead, and so should the child of God. The old nature is dead to God – dead to faith. It must be kept in the place of death. It is not by improving our old nature that we get into God’s presence; but it is only as the possessor of a new nature. It was not by repairing the rags of his former condition that the prodigal got a place at the Father's table, but by being clothed in a robe that he had never seen, or even thought of before. He did not bring this robe with him from the "far country," neither did he provide it as he came along; but the father had it for him in the house. The prodigal did not make it, or help to make it; but the father provided it for him, and rejoiced to see it on him. Thus it was they sat down together to feed in happy fellowship on "the fatted calf."

We now proceed to quote at length "the law of the sacrifice of peace offering," in which we will find some additional points of interest – points that belong peculiarly to itself: "And this is the law of the sacrifice of peace offerings, which he shall offer unto the Lord. If he offer it for a thanksgiving, then he shall offer with the sacrifice of thanksgiving unleavened cakes mingled with oil, and unleavened wafers anointed with oil, and cakes mingled with oil, of fine flour fried. Besides the cakes, he shall offer for his offering leavened bread with the sacrifice of thanksgiving of his peace offerings. And of it he shall offer one out of the whole oblation for an heave offering unto the Lord, and it shall be the priest's that sprinkleth the blood of the peace offerings. And the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace offerings for thanksgiving shall be eaten the same day that it is offered; he shall not leave any of it until the morning. But if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow, or a voluntary offering, it shall be eaten the same day that he offereth his sacrifice: and on the morrow also the remainder of it shall be eaten; but the remainder of the flesh of the sacrifice on the third day shall be burnt with fire. And if any of the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace offerings be eaten at all on the third day, it shall not be accepted, neither shall it be imputed unto him that offereth it: it shall be an abomination, and the soul that eateth of it shall bear his iniquity. And the flesh that toucheth any unclean thing shall not be eaten; it shall be burnt with fire: and as for the flesh all that be clean shall eat thereof. But the soul that eateth of the flesh of the sacrifice of peace offerings that pertain unto the Lord, having his uncleanness upon him, even that soul shall be cut off from his people. Moreover, the soul that shall touch any unclean thing, as the uncleanness of man, or any unclean beast, or any abominable unclean thing, and eat of the flesh of the sacrifice of peace offerings, which pertain unto the Lord, even that soul shall be cut off from his people" (Lev. 7:11-21).

It is also important that we accurately distinguish between sin in the flesh and sin on the conscience. If we confound these two, our souls will be unhinged and our worship marred. A serious consideration of 1 John 1:8-10 will throw light on this subject, the understanding of which is essential to an appreciation of the entire teaching of the peace offering, especially regarding the point now under consideration. No one is more conscious of indwelling sin than the person who walks in the light. "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us." In the verse immediately proceeding, we read, "the blood of Jesus Christ his Son Cleanseth us from all sin." Here the distinction between sin in us and sin on us is fully brought out and established. To say that there is sin on the believer in the presence of God, is to call in question the purging efficacy of the blood of Jesus, and to deny the truth of Holy Scripture. If the blood of Jesus can perfectly purge, then the true believer's conscience is perfectly purged. The Word of God thus explains the matter; God Himself teaches us through inspiration what the true condition of the believer is in His sight. Sadly, many are more occupied in telling God what we are in ourselves, than to allow Him to tell us what we are in Christ. In other words, we are more taken up with our own self-consciousness, than with God's revelation of Himself. God speaks to us on the ground of what He is, and of what He has accomplished in Christ. Such is the nature and character of His revelation that true faith fills the soul with perfect peace. God's revelation is one thing; human consciousness is quite another.

But the same word which tells us we have no sin on us, tells us, with equal force and clearness, that we have sin in us. "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." Every one who has "truth "in him, will know that he has "sin" in him, likewise; for truth reveals every thing as it is. What, then, are we to do? It is our privilege so to walk in the power of the new nature, that the "sin" which dwells in us may not manifest itself in the form of "sins." The Christian's position is one of victory and liberty. He is not only delivered from the guilt of sin, but also from sin as a ruling principle in his life.

"Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from sin . . .  sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey it in the lusts thereof . . .  shall not have dominion over you: for we are not under the law, but under grace" (Rom. 6:6-14).

Sin is there in all its vileness; but the Christian is "dead to it." How? By dying in Christ. By nature we are dead in sin. By grace we are dead to it. What claim can anything or any one have on a dead man? None whatsoever. Christ "died unto sin once," and the believer died in Him.

"Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him: knowing that Christ being raised from the dead, dieth no more, death hath no more dominion over him. For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God."

What is the result of this regarding the true believer? "Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Such is the true believer's position before God – it is our holy privilege to enjoy freedom from sin as a ruler over us, though it may dwell in us.

But "if any man sin" what is to be done? The inspired apostle furnishes a full answer: "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 Jn. 1:9). Confession is the mode in which the conscience is kept free. The apostle does not say, "If we pray for pardon, he is gracious and merciful to forgive us." No doubt, it is always good for a child to breathe the sense of need into his father's ear – to tell him of feebleness, to confess folly, infirmity, and failure. While all this is true, it is equally true that our Father is gracious and merciful to meet His children in their weakness and ignorance. However, while all this is true the Holy Spirit declares by the apostle that "if we confess," God is "faithful and just to forgive." Therefore, confession is the Divine mode. Having erred in thought, word, or deed, a Christian might pray for pardon and not have any assurance of forgiveness; whereas the moment sin is truly confessed before God, it is a simple matter of faith to know that sin has been forgiven and the soul cleansed. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 Jn. 1:9).

Whether we look at it in reference to the character of God, the sacrifice of Christ, or the condition of the soul, there is a moral difference between praying for forgiveness and confessing our sins. It is possible that a person's prayer may involve the confession of sin, and thus come to the same end. However, it is always best to stay close to Scripture in what we think and say and do. It is evident that when the Holy Spirit speaks of confession, He does not mean praying. It is equally evident that He knows there are moral elements in and practical results flowing out of confession that do not belong to prayer.

God has been satisfied in the cross of Christ, regarding the sins if the true believer. On that cross, a full atonement⁸ was presented for every jot and tittle of sin – God does not need any further propitiation; further is not needed to draw His heart toward true believes. We are not required to supplicate Him to be "faithful and just." In the death of Christ, His faithfulness and justice have been gloriously displayed, vindicated, and answered. Our sins can never come into God's presence, because Christ bore them on the cross and put them all away. But if we sin, conscience will feel it. The Holy Spirit cannot allow so much as a single thought to pass unjudged. What then? Has our sin made its way into the presence of God? Has it found a place in the unsullied light of the inner sanctuary? No; the "Advocate" – "Jesus Christ the righteous" is there to maintain the relationship in which we stand. But, though sin cannot affect God's thoughts in reference to the Christian, it can and does affect our thoughts in reference to Him.⁹ Though sin cannot make its way into His presence, it can make its way into ours in a distressing and humiliating manner. Though sin cannot hide the Advocate from God's view, it can hide Him from ours. It gathers like a thick, dark cloud on our spiritual horizon so that our souls cannot bask in the blessed beams of our Father's countenance. Sin can affect our relationship with God, as well as our spiritual enjoyment. So what are we to do? The Word answers, "if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." By confession, our conscience is cleared; the sweet sense of our relationship restored; the dark cloud dispersed; the chilling, withering influence removed; our thoughts of God set straight; and our spiritual joy restored. Such is God’s method; and the heart that knows what it is to dwell in the place of confession, will feel the divine power of the apostle's words, "My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not" (1 Jn. 2:1).

There is a style of praying for forgiveness that involves losing sight of the ground of forgiveness laid in the sacrifice of the cross. God can only forgive sin by being "faithful and just." It is clear that even sincere and earnest prayers can never form the basis of God's faithfulness and justice in the forgiving of sins. Only the work of the cross could do this. There God’s faithfulness and justice finds fullest establishment. God has already judged our sins in the Person of our Substitute, "on the tree;" and in the act of confession we judge ourselves. This is essential to Divine forgiveness and restoration. The smallest unconfessed, unjudged sin on the conscience will completely mar our communion with God. If we allow sin to remain on us, we cannot have fellowship with God. He has put away our sins in a manner that allows Him to have us in His presence; and, as long as we abide in His presence sin does not trouble us. But, if we get out of His presence and commit sin, even in thought, our communion must of necessity be suspended, until by confession we get rid of the sin. All this is founded on the perfect sacrifice and righteous advocacy of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, the difference between prayer and confession cannot be over-estimated. Generally speaking, it is easier to ask for the forgiveness of our sins than to confess those sins. Confession involves self-judgment; asking for forgiveness may not and in itself does not. This alone would be sufficient to point out the difference. Self-judgment is one of the most valuable and healthful exercises of the Christian life; and, therefore, anything that produces it must be highly esteemed by every earnest Christian.

The difference between asking for pardon and confessing the sin is continually exemplified in dealing with children. If a child has done anything wrong, he finds much less difficulty in asking his father to forgive him, than in openly and unreservedly confessing the wrong. In asking for forgiveness, the child may have in his mind a number of things that tend to lessen the sense of the wrong; he may be secretly thinking that he was not to blame, but to be sure it is only proper to ask his father to forgive him. On the other hand, in confessing a wrong there is just the one thing – self-judgment. Further, in asking for forgiveness the child may be influenced by a desire to escape the consequences of wrong doing; whereas, a judicious parent will seek to produce a just sense of its moral wrong, which can only exist in connection with full confession of the fault – in connection with self-judgment.

So it is regarding God's dealings with His children when they do wrong. He must have the whole thing brought out and thoroughly judged. He will make us not only dread the consequences of sin which are unutterable – but hate the thing itself, because of its hatefulness in His sight. If, when we commit sin, it were possible for us to be forgiven merely for the asking, then our sense of sin and our shrinking from it would not be nearly as intense. Also, our estimate of the fellowship with which we are blessed would not be nearly as high. The moral effect of all this on the general tone of our spiritual constitution, and also on our whole character and practical career, must be obvious to every experienced Christian.¹⁰

This train of thought is connected with, and fully borne out by, two leading principles laid down in "the law of the peace offering."

In Leviticus 7:13, we read, "He shall offer for his offering leavened bread." And, yet, in verse 20, we read, "But the soul that eateth of the flesh of the sacrifice of peace offerings, that pertain unto the Lord, having his uncleanness upon him, even that soul shall be cut off from his people." Here, we have the two things clearly set before us: sin in us and sin on us. "Leaven" was permitted, because there was sin in the worshipper's nature. "Uncleanness" was forbidden, because there should be no sin on the worshipper's conscience. If sin is in question, communion is out of the question. God knows that sin is in us, and He has met and provided for sin by the blood of atonement; hence, regarding leavened bread in the peace offering, we read, "of it he shall offer one out of the whole oblation for an heave offering unto the Lord, and it shall be the priest's that sprinkleth the blood of the peace offerings" (v 14). In other words, the "leaven" in the worshipper's nature was perfectly met by the "blood" of the sacrifice. The priest, who eats the leavened bread, must be the sprinkler of the blood. God has put our sin out of His sight forever. Though sin is in us, it is not the object on which His eye rests. Because He sees only the blood of Christ, He can allow us unhindered fellowship with Him. But if we allow the "sin" that is in us to develop itself then there must be confession, forgiveness, and cleansing, before we can again eat of the flesh of the peace offering. The cutting off of the worshipper, because of ceremonial uncleanness, answers to the suspension of the believer's communion now, because of unconfessed sin. To attempt to have fellowship with God in our sins would involve the blasphemous insinuation that our Holy Father can walk in companionship with sin. "If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth" (1 Jn. 1:6).

In the light of the foregoing, we may easily see how much we err when we imagine it to be a mark of spirituality to be occupied with our sins. Could sin or sins ever be the ground or material of our communion with God? Absolutely not. We have just seen that as long as sin is the object before us, spiritual communion must be interrupted. Fellowship can only be "in the light;" and there is no sin in the light. There is nothing to be seen there, except the blood that has put our sins away, and the Advocate that keeps us nigh. Sin has been forever obliterated from that platform on which God and the worshipper stand in hallowed fellowship. What was it that constituted the material of communion between the Father and the prodigal? Was it the rags of the latter? Was it the husks of "the far country?" No; it was not anything that the prodigal brought with him. It was the rich provision of the Father's love – "the fatted calf." Thus it is with God and every true worshipper. They feed together, in holy and elevated communion, on Him whose precious blood has brought them into everlasting association, in that light to which no sin can ever approach.

We should not suppose that true humility is either evidenced or promoted by looking at or dwelling on our sins. An unhallowed and melancholy mopishness may be induced; but the deepest humility springs from a different source. Was the prodigal a humbler man, "when he came to himself" in the far country, or when he came to the Father's bosom and the Father's house? Is it not evident that the grace which elevates us to the loftiest heights of fellowship with God is that which leads us into the profound depths of genuine humility? Unquestionably, the humility that springs from the removal of our sins is deeper than that which springs from the discovery of them. The former connects us with God; the latter has to do with self. The way to be truly humble is to walk with God in the intelligence and power of the relationship in which He has set us. He has made us His children; and if we walk as such, then we will be humble.

Before leaving this part of our subject, we offer a brief remark regarding the Lord's Supper¹¹, which, as being a prominent act of the church's communion, may, with strict propriety, be looked at in connection with the teaching of the peace offering. The intelligent celebration of the Lord's Supper must always depend on the recognition of its purely eucharistic or thanksgiving character. It is a feast of thanksgiving – for an accomplished redemption. "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?" (1 Cor. 10:16). Hence, a soul bowed down under the heavy burden of sin, cannot with spiritual intelligence, eat the Lord's Supper, because that feast is expressive of the complete removal of sin by the death of Christ. "Ye do show the Lord's death till he come" (1 Cor.11). In the death of Christ, faith sees the end of everything pertaining to our old-creation standing; and, seeing that the Lord's Supper "shows forth" that death, it is to be viewed as the memento of the glorious fact that the believer's burden of sin was borne by One who put it away forever. It declares that the chain of sin that once tied and bound us has been eternally snapped by the death of Christ, never to tie and bind us again. We gather around the Lord's Table in all the joy of conquerors. We look back to the cross where the battle was fought and won; and we look forward to the glory where we will enter into the full and eternal results of the victory.

True, we have "leaven" in us; but we have no "uncleanness" on us. We are not to gaze on our sins; but on Him who bore them on the cross, putting them away forever. We are not to "deceive ourselves" by the vain notion "that we have no sin" in us; nor are we to deny the truth of God's Word and the efficacy of Christ's blood by refusing to rejoice in the precious truth that we have no sin on us, for “the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” It is truly deplorable to observe the heavy cloud that gathers around the Supper of the Lord, in the judgment of so many Christians, revealing an immense amount of misapprehension regarding the elementary truths of the Gospel. In fact, we know that when the Lord's Supper is resorted to on any ground except that of known salvation – enjoyed forgiveness – conscious deliverance, the soul becomes wrapped up in even thicker and darker clouds. That which is only a memorial of Christ is used to displace Him. That which celebrates an accomplished redemption is used as a stepping-stone thereto. In this way the ordinances are abused, and souls are plunged into darkness, confusion, and error.

How different from this is the beautiful ordinance of the peace offering. In this latter we see that the moment blood was shed, God and the worshipper could feed in happy, peaceful fellowship. Nothing more was needed. Peace was established by the blood; and, on that ground, the communion proceeded. A single question regarding the establishment of peace is a death-blow to communion. If we are occupied with a vain attempt to make peace with God, we are total strangers to either communion or worship. If the blood of the peace offering has not been shed, it is impossible that we can feed on "the wave breast" or "the heave shoulder." On the other hand, if the blood has been shed, then peace is already made. God Himself has made it, and this is enough for faith. Therefore, by faith, we have fellowship with God in the intelligence and joy of accomplished redemption. We taste the freshness of God's own joy in that which He has done. We feed on Christ, in the fullness and blessedness of God's presence.

This latter point is connected with and based upon another leading truth laid down in "the law of the peace offering." "And the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace offerings for thanksgiving shall be eaten the same day that it is offered: he shall not leave any of it until the morning." In other words, the communion of the worshipper must never be separated from the sacrifice on which that communion is founded. Only as long as one has spiritual energy to maintain the connection, the worship and communion are maintained – in freshness and acceptableness. We must stay close to the sacrifice, in the spirit of our minds, the affections of our hearts, and the experience of our souls. This will impart power and permanency to our worship. We may begin some act or expression of worship, becoming so occupied with what we are doing or saying or with those listening that we fall into what may be termed "iniquity in our holy things." In other words, we may begin our worship in the Spirit and end in the flesh. We should always be careful not to allow ourselves to proceed beyond the Spirit, because the Spirit will always keep us occupied directly with Christ. If through God’s Word, the Holy Spirit produces "five words" of worship or thanksgiving, let us utter the five and have done. If we proceed further, we are eating the flesh of our sacrifice beyond the time; and are far from being "accepted." Actually, such is really, "an abomination." Let us remember this, and always be watchful. It need not alarm us. God would have us led by the Spirit, and so filled with Christ in our worship. He can only accept that which is divine; Therefore, He would have us presenting only that which is divine.

"But if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow or a voluntary offering, it shall be eaten the same day that he offereth his sacrifice: and on the morrow also the remainder of it shall be eaten" (Lev. 7:16). When the soul goes forth to God in a voluntary act of worship, such worship will be the result of a larger measure of spiritual energy than where it merely springs from some special mercy experienced at the time. In other words, if one has been visited with some marked favor from the Lord's own hand, the soul at once ascends in thanksgiving. In this case, the worship is awakened by, and connected with, that favor or mercy, whatever it may happen to be, and there it ends. But, where the heart is led forth by the Holy Spirit in some voluntary or deliberate expression of praise, it will be of a more enduring character. But spiritual worship will always connect itself with the precious sacrifice of Christ.

"The remainder of the flesh of the sacrifice, on the third day, shall be burnt with fire. And if any of the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace offerings be eaten at all on the third day, it shall not be accepted, neither shall it be imputed unto him that offereth it: it shall be an abomination, and the soul that eateth of it shall bear his iniquity."

In the judgment of God, nothing is of any value that is not immediately connected with Christ. There may be a great deal of what looks like worship, which is in reality the mere excitement and outgoing of natural feeling. There may be much apparent devotion, which is in reality merely fleshly pietism. Human nature may be acted on in a religious way by a variety of things, such as pomp, ceremony, parade, tones and attitudes, robes and vestments, an eloquent liturgy, all the varied attractions of a splendid ritualism, while in reality there may be an absence of spiritual worship. In our age, it frequently happens that the tastes and tendencies called forth and gratified by the splendid appliances of so-called religious worship, would find aliment to the opera or the concert hall.

All this has to be seriously considered and watched by those who desire to remember that "God is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth" (Jn. 4). So called religion in our age seems to be decking itself with all kinds of charms. Casting off the grossness of the middle ages, she is calling to her aid all the resources of refined taste, and of a cultivated and enlightened age. Sculpture, music, and painting, are pouring their rich treasures into her lap in order that she may prepare a powerful opiate to lull the thoughtless multitude into a slumber, which shall only be broken by the unutterable horrors of death and judgment. She, too, can say, "I have peace offerings with me; this day have I paid my vows . . . I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon" (Prov. 7).

Thus, by her powerful influence, corrupt religion allures those who will not hearken to wisdom's heavenly voice.

We need to beware of all this; and see that our worship stands inseparably connected with the work of the cross; that Christ is the ground; that Christ is the material; and the Holy Spirit the power. We must take care that our outward act of worship does not stretch itself beyond the inward power. It demands much watchfulness to stay clear of this evil. Its incipient workings are most difficult to detect and counteract. We may commence a hymn in the true spirit of worship, and, before reaching the close, fall into the evil that answers to the ceremonial act of eating the flesh of the peace offering on the third day. Our only security is staying close to Jesus. If we lift up our hearts in "thanksgiving," for some special mercy, let us do so in the power of the name and sacrifice of Christ. If our souls go forth in "voluntary" worship, let it be in the energy of the Holy Spirit. In this way our worship will exhibit that freshness, fragrance, depth of tone, that moral elevation which results from having the Father as the object, the Son as the ground, and the Holy Spirit as the power of our worship.

Thus may it be, O Lord, with all Your worshipping people, until we find ourselves, body, soul, and spirit, in the security of Your own eternal presence, beyond the reach of all the unhallowed influences of false worship and corrupt religion, and also beyond the reach of the various hindrances arising from these bodies of sin and death that we carry about with us.

Conclusion: It is interesting to observe that, although the peace offering itself stands third in order, yet "the law" thereof is given to us last of all. This circumstance is not without import. There is no offering in which the communion of the worshipper is as fully unfolded as in the peace offering. In the burnt offering it is Christ offering Himself to God; in the meat offering we have Christ's perfect humanity; in the sin offering we learn that the root of sin is fully met; in the trespass offering there is a full answer to the actual sin in life. But, in none is the teaching of communion of the worshipper unfolded. This latter belongs to "the peace offering;" and, hence, the position which the law of that offering occupies. By coming in at the close of all, we are taught that when it becomes a question of the soul feeding on Christ, it must be a full Christ, looked at in every possible phase of His life – His character, Person, work, offices. Furthermore, when we are forever done with sin we will delight in Christ, and feed on Him throughout the everlasting ages. It would be a serious defect in our study of the offerings, were we to pass over a circumstance so worthy of notice as the above. If "the law of the peace offering" were given in the order in which the offering itself occurs, it would come in immediately after the law of the meat offering; but, instead of that, "the law of the sin offering, and "the law of the trespass offering" are given, and then, "the law of the peace offering" closes the entire.

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