But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption (Hebrews 9:11-12 ESV).
If you’ve been around the church for at least a little bit by now, it’s no secret that the books of Leviticus and Numbers are where all Bible reading plans go to die. They’re tough to read and digest and full of rules and descriptions that can seem antiquated and never-ending. As a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed youth attempting my first read through the Bible, I remember thinking, “Surely I can make it through Leviticus!”
Did I?
Nope.
In high school I attempted to read it again, this time as part of our school Bible curriculum, so I had no choice but to muddle through it. “Phew!” I thought, “I did it, and I never have to do it again!” I was pretty proud of the fact that I had read the entire Bible before I was an adult, and it seemed like a big check off my “Be A Good Christian” list. The problem was it meant nothing to me. I could regurgitate bits and pieces, and that was all.
Finally, as an adult, I committed to a plan to read the Bible through in a year. This time there was no box to check, no agenda to complete. It was simply because I finally recognized that in order to have a real relationship with the Lord, I needed to know who he really was. And what better way to do that then spend time in the Bible?
As I started to wade through the tough passages, I began to read them with a “Jesus lens.” Instead of focusing on the seemingly endless list of requirements for the Israelites, I looked to what it meant for us as Christians today and how it all pointed to Jesus. This made a huge difference in my understanding of the Old Testament! It was no longer a story detached from Christ, but a detailed blueprint explaining the depth of our brokenness and our desperate need for a Savior.
As someone living in the U.S. where animal sacrifice isn’t part of our reality, it’s easy to skip over these passages. We miss just how utterly exhausting following the Levitical law would have been to the Israelites. According to my research, the annual sacrifices made were somewhere around 113 bulls, 36 rams, and 1094 lambs, the (literal) ton of flour for the grain offerings, and more than 1,000 containers of oil and wine. This doesn’t even include the animals for personal sacrifice, which probably numbered in the hundreds of thousands. The ground of the temple was continually soaked in the blood of all these animals; the Jewish historian Josephus recorded that one year, over 250,000 lambs were sacrificed in a single afternoon during Passover.
Yet, despite all that, the amount sacrificed could have never come close to clearing the debt for our sins - it was a temporary band-aid over a fatal wound. This is the tragic cycle the author of Hebrews exposes so eloquently. How breathtakingly beautiful it is, then, that Jesus stepped forward into this endless noise, offered his own spotless life once and for all as a single sacrifice, and finally silenced the altars - paying our debt in full and securing an eternal redemption.
In our busy “go-go-go” society, I don’t think we take nearly enough time to pause and deeply think about the staggering magnitude of what Jesus did for us on the cross. This week, try to find a few quiet moments to open the Old Testament and read it with a Jesus lens. As you read, ask yourself: Where do I see the promise of Jesus hidden in these ancient passages?
Lord, It’s overwhelming to think of the weight and cost of my sin. Thank you for not leaving me trapped in an endless, exhausting cycle of trying to pay a debt I could never settle, and for sending Jesus to be the perfect sacrifice, for stepping into our mess and shedding his blood in our place. May I truly rest in his finished work today. In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.