Today's post will brief since I have very little time to write. As always, there is a lot going on in the passage, but I will focus on the instructions about who gets the parts of the offerings that aren't burned.
Yesterday I discussed at some length why it makes sense that no one receives back any part of their own offering. But I evidently didn't think the issue all the way through since today I found out that in the case of peace offerings, one does get some of the offering back. A peace offering must be given with some unleavened bread, which is for the priests, and after the sacrifice itself the priests are given the breast of the animal and its right thigh. Also, the chapter does not explicitly say that the offering must be eaten in a holy place probably so that people are not deterred from bringing peace offerings because they don't have time. I'm sure everyone had very demanding jobs on farms and the like, and couldn't easily be away for extended periods of time.
Okay, so why does one get to eat the meat of one's own peace offering? It turns out that one major difference between peace offerings, and guilt and sin offerings is that peace offerings are not made to right a wrong. In my post on chapter 3, I had assumed peace offerings were establishing peace with God where before there had been enmity, but it turns out that they are offered when peace with God already exists. In particular, one brings a peace offering as a thanksgiving offering, a vow offering, or a freewill offering. So my thought now is that, for the reasons I mentioned yesterday, one should not receive anything material for offerings that right wrongs. But those reasons do not apply to a peace offering. In giving a peace offering I cannot think that I am paying a priest to make me right with God since things are already fine. Also, I need a specific reason to bring the offering, so I can't use peace offerings merely as a cheap way to cook my food. It might not end up being cheap anyway since one must also give some bread made with fine flour, and the breast and right thigh of the animal. Regardless, this offering is more of a celebration, and I am fairly certain that the idea is to gather a bunch of people to share the food with while praising God.
For the other offerings where not everything is burned, the rule is that the priest that performs the sacrifice gets the parts that are not burned. All the priests may eat what isn't burned, but it belongs to the one who performs the sacrifice. Presumably this means that the priest to whom the food belongs controls its distribution among the other priests. What I find interesting is that God chose this method of food distribution rather than the other natural method, which would be to command that the food always be distributed equally. I assume the goals of doing things the way God did is to teach the priests to be charitable. They received the food they have as a gift from God, so they should not hesitate to likewise give their food to others. Unless there are enough sacrifices being given that all the priests have enough without the help of others, they will be forced to become more charitable, or more stingy (which might be a consequence of ownership of goods quite generally, but that is a topic for another time).
So there you have it! A little post in proper philosophical style about why I wasn't really wrong yesterday (even though I kind of was). Have a wonderful day, and God bless!
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Leviticus 6: Laws for Priests Concerning Offerings
Leviticus 6:8-30 is addressed to the priests who will be working in the temple. We are given a little bit more detail about some of the sacrifices, but the emphasis is not on relating large amounts of new procedures. Rather, the emphasis seems to be on respecting the commands God is giving. There are four paragraphs in this portion of chapter six, and I will say a little something about each one.
The first paragraph is about burnt offerings. Here, the priests are instructed to wear their special linen garments and undergarments when cleaning the ashes off the altar of burnt offering. Next they must take off their special garments and wear normal clothes to take the ashes outside the camp. These instructions, it seems to me, emphasize the holiness and respectability of God and His offerings. Since the altar and the offerings are God's, and therefore holy, they must be treated with respect. Also, as a non-priest, seeing the priests treat the altar in this way should remind me of God's holiness. More interestingly (I think), the priests are told to keep the fire on the altar of burnt offering burning continually, day and night (which makes me wonder how ashes would be cleaned off of it). If this command is followed, there should always be a priest available since someone always needs to be around to tend to the fire. If the fire is always lit, and a priest is always accessible, one could come to make a sacrifice at literally any time of the day or night. All of the offerings so far are made on the altar of burnt offering, so whether one comes with a burnt offering, a grain offering, a peace offering, a sin offering, or a guilt offering, the altar will be ready and a priest should be there to take it. The greater significance of this seems to be that God is always ready to accept a sacrifice. I imagine what He wants, especially for peace, sin, and guilt offerings, is for the offering to be brought the moment one realizes one's guilt, which is a very heartwarming thought.
The second paragraph is about grain offerings. Here, the focus seems to be on the holiness of grain offerings, and God's ownership of them. I think I mentioned before that God wants to prevent anyone from thinking that offerings are 'service-industry' type transactions, and that idea comes across quite strongly here. After offering the memorial portion of a grain offering the priests may take the rest of the flour to bake it and eat it. However, they are not allowed to bake it with leaven, and they must eat it in a holy place--in the court of the tent of meeting. God then goes on to say, "I have given it as their portion of my food offerings. It is a thing most holy, like the sin offering and the guilt offering" (v.17). The food is a gift from God, not payment from a human. Moreover, even though the flour is going to be used for the ordinary end of sustenance, it is not ordinary itself. It is holy. As reminders of its holiness, it must be baked without leaven and eaten in a holy place. Interestingly, it seems that it must also be eaten in public (I didn't go back and look, but I assume that the court of the tent of meeting is, being a court, at least a semi-public area). This might help keep the priests accountable with respect to what they do with portions of the offerings they are supposed to eat (so they don't sell it or something like that), and might help remind non-priests that they are not just paying the priests to give offerings for them.
The third paragraph is about "the offering that Aaron and his sons shall offer on the day when he is anointed" (v.20). My guess is that this is not a one-time offering, but that it is to be given by each priest when he is anointed. But I am not entirely sure. There are a few narrative chapters coming up soon, so we may find out then. The offering is to be a grain offering of a certain kind, and in this paragraph we find out that offerings given by priests are to be completely burned. Unlike offerings given by others, the priests do not burn just a part and get the rest. One way this could be justified is on grounds of fairness. Since no one else gets part of their offering returned, neither do the priests. But this raises a question: why doesn't everyone get some part of their offering back? Is this a demonstration of divine stinginess? If my analysis from two posts ago is correct God is certainly not stingy, so what is going on? My first thought is that, by getting nothing material in return for giving an offering, one is prevented from having certain ulterior motives for bringing sacrifices. For example, I have heard in sermons on 1 Corinthians that people would sacrifice animals in the Greek temples mainly because it was a cheap (or free, I can't recall) way to have them butchered and cooked. A system that allows for this kind of behavior is obviously antithetical to the goal of bringing people to repentance and relationship with God, and certainly does not encourage respect for the holiness of God, the tabernacle, or the sacrifices. Thus, no one gets anything material in return for offering a sacrifice to God.
The fourth paragraph is about sin offerings. As you may recall, sin offering procedures were divided by group and subgroup. The groups were corporate offenders, which were priests and Israel as a whole, and individual offenders, which were leaders and commoners. Here, we are only concerned with corporate offenders. The particular instruction of Leviticus 6 is that if blood from a sin offering is brought into the tent of meeting (which covers exactly the two cases of corporate sin offerings), none of the offering is to be eaten by the priests. Instead, the whole animal must be burned. Given the command that an offering from a priest must be burned entirely it makes sense that priests' sin offerings must be burned entirely. But why must offerings for the other kind of corporate sin also be burned entirely? Two thoughts come to mind. One is that a prohibition on eating these offerings might be intended as a reminder of the seriousness of the offense for which they are offered. Intuitively, it is a big deal if all of Israel sins, so it would make sense if special procedures apply. The other thought is that, since the priests will be the experts in the law, they will probably be well situated to notice and then announce corporate sin. But if they get delicious steaks whenever they make a convincing argument for corporate sin they will have a motive for making up sins where they don't exist. Since this would obviously be no good, the priests must burn the entire sin offering for corporate sins. (The idea is also that people will have a better grasp of whether or not they have sinned individually making them far less vulnerable to this kind of manipulation.)
The section on sin offerings in chapter 6 also gives us a little foreshadowing of the cleanliness laws. When any blood from a sin offering gets on clothes, those clothes must be washed in a holy place. Then, if the washing took place in an earthenware vessel, it must be broken, but if it took place in a bronze one, it must be scrubbed and rinsed. Presumably, the bit about breaking and rinsing is aimed at least partly at health concerns, but there will be more about this soon.
I guess this is enough for one day, so go in peace, and God bless!
The first paragraph is about burnt offerings. Here, the priests are instructed to wear their special linen garments and undergarments when cleaning the ashes off the altar of burnt offering. Next they must take off their special garments and wear normal clothes to take the ashes outside the camp. These instructions, it seems to me, emphasize the holiness and respectability of God and His offerings. Since the altar and the offerings are God's, and therefore holy, they must be treated with respect. Also, as a non-priest, seeing the priests treat the altar in this way should remind me of God's holiness. More interestingly (I think), the priests are told to keep the fire on the altar of burnt offering burning continually, day and night (which makes me wonder how ashes would be cleaned off of it). If this command is followed, there should always be a priest available since someone always needs to be around to tend to the fire. If the fire is always lit, and a priest is always accessible, one could come to make a sacrifice at literally any time of the day or night. All of the offerings so far are made on the altar of burnt offering, so whether one comes with a burnt offering, a grain offering, a peace offering, a sin offering, or a guilt offering, the altar will be ready and a priest should be there to take it. The greater significance of this seems to be that God is always ready to accept a sacrifice. I imagine what He wants, especially for peace, sin, and guilt offerings, is for the offering to be brought the moment one realizes one's guilt, which is a very heartwarming thought.
The second paragraph is about grain offerings. Here, the focus seems to be on the holiness of grain offerings, and God's ownership of them. I think I mentioned before that God wants to prevent anyone from thinking that offerings are 'service-industry' type transactions, and that idea comes across quite strongly here. After offering the memorial portion of a grain offering the priests may take the rest of the flour to bake it and eat it. However, they are not allowed to bake it with leaven, and they must eat it in a holy place--in the court of the tent of meeting. God then goes on to say, "I have given it as their portion of my food offerings. It is a thing most holy, like the sin offering and the guilt offering" (v.17). The food is a gift from God, not payment from a human. Moreover, even though the flour is going to be used for the ordinary end of sustenance, it is not ordinary itself. It is holy. As reminders of its holiness, it must be baked without leaven and eaten in a holy place. Interestingly, it seems that it must also be eaten in public (I didn't go back and look, but I assume that the court of the tent of meeting is, being a court, at least a semi-public area). This might help keep the priests accountable with respect to what they do with portions of the offerings they are supposed to eat (so they don't sell it or something like that), and might help remind non-priests that they are not just paying the priests to give offerings for them.
The third paragraph is about "the offering that Aaron and his sons shall offer on the day when he is anointed" (v.20). My guess is that this is not a one-time offering, but that it is to be given by each priest when he is anointed. But I am not entirely sure. There are a few narrative chapters coming up soon, so we may find out then. The offering is to be a grain offering of a certain kind, and in this paragraph we find out that offerings given by priests are to be completely burned. Unlike offerings given by others, the priests do not burn just a part and get the rest. One way this could be justified is on grounds of fairness. Since no one else gets part of their offering returned, neither do the priests. But this raises a question: why doesn't everyone get some part of their offering back? Is this a demonstration of divine stinginess? If my analysis from two posts ago is correct God is certainly not stingy, so what is going on? My first thought is that, by getting nothing material in return for giving an offering, one is prevented from having certain ulterior motives for bringing sacrifices. For example, I have heard in sermons on 1 Corinthians that people would sacrifice animals in the Greek temples mainly because it was a cheap (or free, I can't recall) way to have them butchered and cooked. A system that allows for this kind of behavior is obviously antithetical to the goal of bringing people to repentance and relationship with God, and certainly does not encourage respect for the holiness of God, the tabernacle, or the sacrifices. Thus, no one gets anything material in return for offering a sacrifice to God.
The fourth paragraph is about sin offerings. As you may recall, sin offering procedures were divided by group and subgroup. The groups were corporate offenders, which were priests and Israel as a whole, and individual offenders, which were leaders and commoners. Here, we are only concerned with corporate offenders. The particular instruction of Leviticus 6 is that if blood from a sin offering is brought into the tent of meeting (which covers exactly the two cases of corporate sin offerings), none of the offering is to be eaten by the priests. Instead, the whole animal must be burned. Given the command that an offering from a priest must be burned entirely it makes sense that priests' sin offerings must be burned entirely. But why must offerings for the other kind of corporate sin also be burned entirely? Two thoughts come to mind. One is that a prohibition on eating these offerings might be intended as a reminder of the seriousness of the offense for which they are offered. Intuitively, it is a big deal if all of Israel sins, so it would make sense if special procedures apply. The other thought is that, since the priests will be the experts in the law, they will probably be well situated to notice and then announce corporate sin. But if they get delicious steaks whenever they make a convincing argument for corporate sin they will have a motive for making up sins where they don't exist. Since this would obviously be no good, the priests must burn the entire sin offering for corporate sins. (The idea is also that people will have a better grasp of whether or not they have sinned individually making them far less vulnerable to this kind of manipulation.)
The section on sin offerings in chapter 6 also gives us a little foreshadowing of the cleanliness laws. When any blood from a sin offering gets on clothes, those clothes must be washed in a holy place. Then, if the washing took place in an earthenware vessel, it must be broken, but if it took place in a bronze one, it must be scrubbed and rinsed. Presumably, the bit about breaking and rinsing is aimed at least partly at health concerns, but there will be more about this soon.
I guess this is enough for one day, so go in peace, and God bless!
Monday, December 28, 2015
Leviticus 5:14-6:7 - Guilt Offerings
The passage for today isn't exactly a chapter because, for some reason, the chapter division isn't following the subject matter of the text. So tomorrow we'll finish chapter 6 and perhaps do some of chapter 7 depending on what's in there. I will also keep today's post shorter since, for goodness's sake, there's only so much I can write every day, and only so much you can read every day.
The key distinction in today's section is between wrong acts that are committed unintentionally, and those that are committed intentionally. Chapter 5:14-19 deals with the former, and chapter 6:1-7 deals with the latter. What seems to distinguish them most is the manner in which they cause one to sin. In 5:14, God mentions cases in which one "commits a breach of faith and sins unintentionally." In 6:1, it is cases where one "sins and commits a breach of faith." To me, the use of 'and' in those two cases suggests causation. In the first case, one commits a breach of faith by accidentally breaking the law, and that causes one to have sinned. In the second, one breaks the law, and this sin causes a breach of faith. But the distinction is difficult to maintain, especially since 6:4-5 says, "if he has sinned and has realized his guilt...he shall restore [what he as taken] in full...and give it to him to whom it belongs on the day he realizes his guilt." The seems to imply that, at the time of acting, the sinner didn't realize his action was wrong, so why isn't this just another case of unintentional sinning?
There are three answers to my question I can conveniently think of. One is that there is no difference between the chapter 5 and 6 cases, and the reversal of phrasing I highlighted is purely stylistic. On this view, 6:1-7 is meant to reinforce the badness of illegitimately acquiring the property of others, not because these sins aren't a subset of those mentioned in 5:17, but because taking from others is something we are especially likely to do and to attempt to justify. Another answer is that the distinction between the chapters 5 and 6 cases is epistemic (knowledge related). On this view, the laws referred to in 5:14-19 are not ones that our consciences would normally tell us not to break, whereas the ones in 6:1-7 are. The claim here would be that we can only really break a law unintentionally when it is not a relatively fundamental tenant of morality. And while a command to not steal is plausibly a fundamental tenant of this kind, proper conduct in the tabernacle (among other things) plausibly is not. The third answer is metaphysical, having to do with the law-breaking actions themselves. Here the idea is that when one sins unintentionally, one is performing action A, and as a consequence also performs action B. For instance, one might watch a movie (action A) and as a consequence also disturb the neighbors (action B). So in the chapter 5 cases, one is attempting to perform a legitimate action, but also accidentally doing something else that breaks a law. By contrast, in the chapter 6 cases, one intentionally performs an action (say, theft) that is itself a sin.
The metaphysical reading strikes me as highly problematic for a couple of reasons. One is that it relies on a questionable ability to clearly individuate actions. If you try to do this yourself with real cases of action, I promise that you will find it super difficult. At what level of generality are actions properly described? When are consequences unintentional? When do we have one action with several consequences versus several actions? Can a person perform multiple actions simultaneously? Even setting these issues aside, I am sure it would not be all that difficult to come up with cases in which it was very unclear whether we were dealing with a chapter 5 or 6 sort of case. Between the epistemic and stylistic readings, I don't see an obvious superior. What's more, each seems to have its own downside. The stylistic reading doesn't obviously do justice to the emphasis on unintentionality in chapter 5, and any attempt to apply the epistemic reading seems to require a very developed moral psychology. In some sense, one might argue that the distinctions don't matter in practice so long as one can recognize that one's action falls into one of the three categories since the procedure for all three is exactly the same. Even so, it would be nice to know why the cases are listed separately.
Well, there you go--the most inconclusive entry yet (maybe). Regardless, have a wonderful day, and God bless.
There are three answers to my question I can conveniently think of. One is that there is no difference between the chapter 5 and 6 cases, and the reversal of phrasing I highlighted is purely stylistic. On this view, 6:1-7 is meant to reinforce the badness of illegitimately acquiring the property of others, not because these sins aren't a subset of those mentioned in 5:17, but because taking from others is something we are especially likely to do and to attempt to justify. Another answer is that the distinction between the chapters 5 and 6 cases is epistemic (knowledge related). On this view, the laws referred to in 5:14-19 are not ones that our consciences would normally tell us not to break, whereas the ones in 6:1-7 are. The claim here would be that we can only really break a law unintentionally when it is not a relatively fundamental tenant of morality. And while a command to not steal is plausibly a fundamental tenant of this kind, proper conduct in the tabernacle (among other things) plausibly is not. The third answer is metaphysical, having to do with the law-breaking actions themselves. Here the idea is that when one sins unintentionally, one is performing action A, and as a consequence also performs action B. For instance, one might watch a movie (action A) and as a consequence also disturb the neighbors (action B). So in the chapter 5 cases, one is attempting to perform a legitimate action, but also accidentally doing something else that breaks a law. By contrast, in the chapter 6 cases, one intentionally performs an action (say, theft) that is itself a sin.
The metaphysical reading strikes me as highly problematic for a couple of reasons. One is that it relies on a questionable ability to clearly individuate actions. If you try to do this yourself with real cases of action, I promise that you will find it super difficult. At what level of generality are actions properly described? When are consequences unintentional? When do we have one action with several consequences versus several actions? Can a person perform multiple actions simultaneously? Even setting these issues aside, I am sure it would not be all that difficult to come up with cases in which it was very unclear whether we were dealing with a chapter 5 or 6 sort of case. Between the epistemic and stylistic readings, I don't see an obvious superior. What's more, each seems to have its own downside. The stylistic reading doesn't obviously do justice to the emphasis on unintentionality in chapter 5, and any attempt to apply the epistemic reading seems to require a very developed moral psychology. In some sense, one might argue that the distinctions don't matter in practice so long as one can recognize that one's action falls into one of the three categories since the procedure for all three is exactly the same. Even so, it would be nice to know why the cases are listed separately.
Well, there you go--the most inconclusive entry yet (maybe). Regardless, have a wonderful day, and God bless.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Leviticus 5: Poverty and Sinning
Leviticus chapter 5 is in some sense just a continuation of chapter 4. But the editors put in a chapter break because, even though chapter 5 is still about sin offerings, it is about when to bring them and what to do if you're poor. Both aspects of the chapter are quite interesting, and I will begin with the issue of poverty.
As a brief outline, verses 7-13 say that if one is too poor to bring a lamb (or a goat) for a sin offering one may bring two pigeons or two turtledoves instead. One of the birds serves as a sin offering, the other as a burnt offering according to chapter 1 procedures. Then, if one is also too poor to bring birds as an offering, one is to bring 1/10 of an ephah of fine flour without oil. The memorial portion is to be sacrificed, and the rest is for the priest. While I am sure very interesting things could be discovered by looking at the particulars of the offering procedures (for instance, why must the sin offering of grain be given without oil?), I will attempt to address the following question: why are different offerings acceptable if one is poor?
To answer my question, I think we must contemplate the reason that sacrifices are necessary in the first place. One potential explanation is that, according to the true normative ethical principles, sacrificing a bull in a certain way is the only way to compensate for a sin when one is a priest (and so on and so forth for the other sacrifices). If this kind of view were correct, it would be strange that a poor person can sacrifice birds or flour instead of a goat or a lamb since, presumably, according to the correct ethical principles, goats and lambs, not birds and flour, are acceptable sin offerings for commoners. It seems like the poor person should just be out of luck. Of course, it is not as though there is no room for ethical principles that would track poverty in this case (the 'ought-implies-can' principle is a good example). But as I have suggested already in previous posts, I find it plausible to think that the sacrificial procedures are serving a primarily symbolic function. If that is so, then we needn't think that the sacrifices are satisfying independent demands of morality or justice. Rather, the sacrifices are made to God, and so God is accepting them for crimes against Him. Also, it is His prerogative to forgive debts incurred by these crimes before they are fully paid (or to defer full payment until later when a fully sufficient sacrifice is made by someone else).
So on this view outlined above, the main purpose of the sacrifices is something other than just meeting the demands of morality. What then is their purpose? Given the repeated emphasis on atonement, forgiveness, and pleasing aromas, it is reasonable to think that sacrifices are meant to remind those giving them of their symbolic and relational meanings, and to provide a way to repair a relationship with God through forgiveness and atonement. Also, notice that repentance is required to repair relationships when one party has wronged another. If these are the goals of the sacrificial system, then it makes perfect sense to have procedures for the poor that they can fulfill. After all, no is really meeting the demands of morality in the first place, but rather receiving forgiveness through a procedure meant to induce repentance.
With this interpretation, I think we can also explain the repeated emphasis on offering sacrifices only after realizing one's guilt (ch.4 v.13-14, 22-23, 27-28; ch.5 v.5-6). The assumption in chapters 4 and 5 is that the guilt is there whether one realizes it or not, but it won't do to just offer sacrifices periodically just in case. If I have been right so far, this is because the sacrificial system is forgiveness-based and aimed to producing repentance in a way that makes a restored relationship with God possible. (Interestingly, notice that the system as I have characterized it doesn't provide a mechanism for internal reform even though it seems to require it to operate properly.)
At this point one might object that I've forgotten something very important. That is that many sins occur between humans. Take Leviticus 5:1 for example. Here, one human sins against another human by failing to testify in court. Even if we grant that this involves a sin against God since God is the proper owner of both the offender and offended, and since the objectively valuable image of God has not been respected (and since God's binding commandment has been broken), there is also an offense against another person. What about justice for that person? One possibility is that there will be laws later in the book about punishments for this kind of behavior (I don't remember Leviticus all that well and the section headings aren't very helpful in this case, but I know that Deuteronomy has things to say about court proceedings). But consider this as well. Who is the subject of the greater wrong? The person wronged in court, or God? Presumably it is God. And if God sees fit to forgive on the basis of repentance, which is (hopefully) demonstrated in the offering of a sacrifice, on what grounds could the wronged person withhold forgiveness? Thus, while it is not explicitly mentioned, the interpretation I have given of the sacrificial system has built into it the grounds for the sort of interpersonal forgiveness commanded in the New Testament.
What I have tried to argue is that the concessions for poverty made in chapter 5 of Leviticus are clues to the moral grounding of the sacrificial system in general. I have tried to say that we can explain certain features of commandments about sacrifices very well by taking the sacrifices to be morally insufficient to right the wrongs committed against God. Instead, God is offering forgiveness conditional on the offering of sacrifices which are meant to produce repentance that makes a relationship with God possible. Importantly, I have tried to make my argument from Leviticus, not from the New Testament (though of course I received some guidance from New Testament ideas).
Well, I'm sure that I've given you way more than enough for now! I hope you have a wonderful day, and God bless!
As a brief outline, verses 7-13 say that if one is too poor to bring a lamb (or a goat) for a sin offering one may bring two pigeons or two turtledoves instead. One of the birds serves as a sin offering, the other as a burnt offering according to chapter 1 procedures. Then, if one is also too poor to bring birds as an offering, one is to bring 1/10 of an ephah of fine flour without oil. The memorial portion is to be sacrificed, and the rest is for the priest. While I am sure very interesting things could be discovered by looking at the particulars of the offering procedures (for instance, why must the sin offering of grain be given without oil?), I will attempt to address the following question: why are different offerings acceptable if one is poor?
To answer my question, I think we must contemplate the reason that sacrifices are necessary in the first place. One potential explanation is that, according to the true normative ethical principles, sacrificing a bull in a certain way is the only way to compensate for a sin when one is a priest (and so on and so forth for the other sacrifices). If this kind of view were correct, it would be strange that a poor person can sacrifice birds or flour instead of a goat or a lamb since, presumably, according to the correct ethical principles, goats and lambs, not birds and flour, are acceptable sin offerings for commoners. It seems like the poor person should just be out of luck. Of course, it is not as though there is no room for ethical principles that would track poverty in this case (the 'ought-implies-can' principle is a good example). But as I have suggested already in previous posts, I find it plausible to think that the sacrificial procedures are serving a primarily symbolic function. If that is so, then we needn't think that the sacrifices are satisfying independent demands of morality or justice. Rather, the sacrifices are made to God, and so God is accepting them for crimes against Him. Also, it is His prerogative to forgive debts incurred by these crimes before they are fully paid (or to defer full payment until later when a fully sufficient sacrifice is made by someone else).
So on this view outlined above, the main purpose of the sacrifices is something other than just meeting the demands of morality. What then is their purpose? Given the repeated emphasis on atonement, forgiveness, and pleasing aromas, it is reasonable to think that sacrifices are meant to remind those giving them of their symbolic and relational meanings, and to provide a way to repair a relationship with God through forgiveness and atonement. Also, notice that repentance is required to repair relationships when one party has wronged another. If these are the goals of the sacrificial system, then it makes perfect sense to have procedures for the poor that they can fulfill. After all, no is really meeting the demands of morality in the first place, but rather receiving forgiveness through a procedure meant to induce repentance.
With this interpretation, I think we can also explain the repeated emphasis on offering sacrifices only after realizing one's guilt (ch.4 v.13-14, 22-23, 27-28; ch.5 v.5-6). The assumption in chapters 4 and 5 is that the guilt is there whether one realizes it or not, but it won't do to just offer sacrifices periodically just in case. If I have been right so far, this is because the sacrificial system is forgiveness-based and aimed to producing repentance in a way that makes a restored relationship with God possible. (Interestingly, notice that the system as I have characterized it doesn't provide a mechanism for internal reform even though it seems to require it to operate properly.)
At this point one might object that I've forgotten something very important. That is that many sins occur between humans. Take Leviticus 5:1 for example. Here, one human sins against another human by failing to testify in court. Even if we grant that this involves a sin against God since God is the proper owner of both the offender and offended, and since the objectively valuable image of God has not been respected (and since God's binding commandment has been broken), there is also an offense against another person. What about justice for that person? One possibility is that there will be laws later in the book about punishments for this kind of behavior (I don't remember Leviticus all that well and the section headings aren't very helpful in this case, but I know that Deuteronomy has things to say about court proceedings). But consider this as well. Who is the subject of the greater wrong? The person wronged in court, or God? Presumably it is God. And if God sees fit to forgive on the basis of repentance, which is (hopefully) demonstrated in the offering of a sacrifice, on what grounds could the wronged person withhold forgiveness? Thus, while it is not explicitly mentioned, the interpretation I have given of the sacrificial system has built into it the grounds for the sort of interpersonal forgiveness commanded in the New Testament.
What I have tried to argue is that the concessions for poverty made in chapter 5 of Leviticus are clues to the moral grounding of the sacrificial system in general. I have tried to say that we can explain certain features of commandments about sacrifices very well by taking the sacrifices to be morally insufficient to right the wrongs committed against God. Instead, God is offering forgiveness conditional on the offering of sacrifices which are meant to produce repentance that makes a relationship with God possible. Importantly, I have tried to make my argument from Leviticus, not from the New Testament (though of course I received some guidance from New Testament ideas).
Well, I'm sure that I've given you way more than enough for now! I hope you have a wonderful day, and God bless!
Saturday, December 26, 2015
Leviticus 4: Sin Offerings
Chapters 4 and 5 of Leviticus talk about different aspects of sin offerings. Today's chapter--chapter 4--addresses the procedures for sin offerings, while chapter 5 gives some specifics about when to bring a sin offering, and what to do if one is very poor. So let's talk about procedures. First, just to get it out the way, chapter 4 explicitly mentions peace offering procedures, and other procedures used earlier in chapter 4 (v. 10, 20, 26, 35). Thus, we probably should not think of peace offerings as incorporating procedures given in chapter 1. It seems that cross-references of this sort will be made explicitly.
There are three intriguing features of chapter 4 that I want to bring up. The first is the division of groups who are to bring sin offerings. The chapter mentions two kinds of entities that can commit a sin, and two categories within each kind. The first kind of entity mentioned is the whole congregation of Israel (a collective), and it can accrue guilt in at least two ways. First, the priest can sin thereby "bringing guilt on the people" (v. 3), and second, the congregation can sin by directly violating one of God's laws (v. 13). Interestingly, the procedure for atoning for both ways of corporate sinning is exactly the same. A bull is killed, blood is sprinkled inside the tent of meeting, it is butchered, part of it is burned on the altar of burnt offering at the entrance to the tent of meeting, and the leftovers are burned outside the camp. We do not know yet what will count as a corporate sin of the second category, but presumably there will be laws that apply not to individuals, but to Israel as a whole. Laws about conduct in war might fall into this category. We will have to wait and see.
What is more curious--and this is the second intriguing point--is that the priest sinning counts as a corporate sin even though he is only an individual. I can think of two potential reasons for this. One is that a sin committed by the priest automatically causes everyone else to become guilty as well. In this case, the congregation would become guilty independent of their own conduct. While this explanation is not obviously absurd, it strikes me as counter-intuitive. As an alternative, consider the role of the priest. His job is to mediate the relationship between God and the people. When the people (or a person) have sinned they cannot approach God directly. Rather, they need the priest, working as God's agent, to act on their behalf to restore the relationship. But if the priest is not obeying God, he cannot be working as His agent and therefore cannot do the work of a priest (which requires him to be God's agent). Thus, if the priest has sinned, the effect is that the whole congregation is cut off from the mechanism of atonement for their sins, thus making the whole congregation guilty. They are not guilty because the sin of someone else has been imputed to them, but because the mechanism for making atonement for their own sins has been broken. Of course, there could be other possibilities too, but at least between the two I have mentioned, the second strikes me as more plausible.
Returning to the explicit text of chapter 4, the second kind of entity that can sin is an individual person. Within this kind, leaders and commoners are distinguished as categories, which brings us to the third intriguing feature I want to mention--the differences and similarities between a leader's and commoner's sin offering. Starting with similarities, members of both groups are to bring a goat (not a bull) and kill it at the entrance to the tent of meeting. Unlike offerings for corporate sins, the priest does not take any blood into the tent of meeting, but instead smears a bit on the horns of the altar of burnt offering. After this, the animal is butchered and sacrificed mostly according to peace offering procedures. The only procedural differences for the two categories is that leaders must bring a male goat and commoners must bring a female goat or lamb. It is not clear to me why there are these particular differences instead of any others. One possibility is that the leader-follower distinction is being attached to gender, which certainly would not have been foreign to the culture of the time (also, I say 'leader-follower' instead of 'leader-commoner' because, presumably, the point of being a leader is that those who aren't leaders follow). Another possibility (though perhaps a more tenuous one) is that the leader-follower, male-female distinction is foreshadowing Christ and the church. Christ is often referred to as a groom and the church as a bride, and Christ was sacrificed for us leaving us to follow suit symbolically by being living sacrifices for God (see Romans 12). Of course, both of my ideas could be mistaken, or both could be correct simultaneously. Whatever the case, the distinction in category is a fascinating one.
This post is already plenty long, so without any discussion I will simply draw your attention to the progression from no mention of atonement, forgiveness, or pleasing aromas in sacrifices for corporate sin, atonement and forgiveness in sacrifices for a leader's sin, and atonement, forgiveness, and a pleasing aroma in sacrifices for a commoner's sin. Is it a commentary on social status and value? Who knows. Happy Boxing Day, and God bless!
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Leviticus 3: Peace Offerings
In my post on Leviticus 2 I speculated that chapters 1 and 2 provide procedures to be incorporated into other kinds of sacrifices and offerings. In chapter 3, we seem to get the sort of offering that might incorporate the chapter 1 laws about burnt offerings of animals. But the combination strikes me as uncomfortable.
The main feature of chapter 3 that makes me wonder if it is meant to incorporate the rules in chapter 1 is its specificity. It doesn't say, "When bringing a peace offering, bring a male or female without blemish from the herd or flock, or a male or female goat without blemish, and offer it as a burnt offering." Instead, specific instructions are given for cows and bulls, lambs (but not sheep), and goats, and the instructions are almost exactly the same for all three. One is to lay one's hand on the head of the animal, kill it at the entrance to the tent of meeting, splash the blood on the sides of the altar, cut out the kidneys and half the liver with their fat, and burn them as a food offering on the altar. Now, these instructions are consistent with the instructions given in chapter 1, in the sense that one could carry out both sets of directions simultaneously, but they partly overlap in odd ways. For instance, if the peace offering instructions were meant to supplement the chapter 1 instructions, why say in chapter 3 that one must lay one's hand on the head of the animal, which was already instructed in chapter 1? But, one is apparently allowed to offer male and female sheep as peace offerings, but instructions are only given for offering lambs (v. 6). This suggests that one should use the chapter 1 instructions when giving sheep as peace offerings (since no other instructions have been given). Unfortunately, it is not clear how this affects our interpretation of the rest of chapter 3. The lack of instructions for sheep could suggest that the instructions given for goats and herd animals are alternatives to the chapter 1 instructions, or it could suggest that since the chapter 1 instructions are used in one case, they should be used in the others as well. The final difficulty is that it is not really clear when one is supposed to give a peace offering. Presumably it is to establish peace, but after what kinds of conflicts? If answers to these questions start presenting themselves, I will have to make a supplemental post.
I also find it interesting that the smell of the burnt offerings is called, "a pleasing aroma to the Lord" (v. 5, 16). My assumption is that what is offered on the altar is not cooked to be eaten (see v. 16-17), but burned until it will burn no longer and in my experience burnt food products produce rather off-putting odors. There would also be blood all over the place, what with animals being butchered and blood being splashed on the sides of the altar. While I haven't been sniffing puddles of animal blood lately, I imagine it doesn't smell great. (As an aside, I'll bet the priests also had a rough time trying to keep the place clean.) So why say the aroma is pleasing? Well, this could mean at least two things. One is that the smell itself of the offering is pleasant, and the other is that it is pleasant that the smell of the offering is being produced. I find the latter interpretation more plausible. First, the notion of God smelling the offering seems clearly metaphorical. God isn't a material being like us, and while I don't know what sorts of senses God has, they probably aren't like ours. Thus, He is likely communicating metaphorically using images we can relate to. Furthermore, the second interpretation places the focus on the purpose the offering--to make peace--rather than the offering itself. So on the second reading, what pleases God about the offering is the relational restoration. It's not like He just wants to smell burning fat and organs, He wants restored relationships. And since that is what the peace offering accomplishes, its smell is pleasing.
If I am right about why the aroma of a peace offering is pleasing, there is also an interesting juxtaposition of pleasant and unpleasant. The process of sacrificing an animal is bloody and dirty, smelly, and disgusting, whereas the outcome is good and pleasant, cleansing, and restoring. It's occurred to me before in reading Deuteronomy that one lesson of the Law might be that once some kind of injustice has been committed, we're already way outside the realm of pleasant solutions even when good outcomes are still possible. I suspect we'll see similar ideas playing out in Leviticus.
Well, I guess that's enough for now! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas Eve, and God bless you, every one!
The main feature of chapter 3 that makes me wonder if it is meant to incorporate the rules in chapter 1 is its specificity. It doesn't say, "When bringing a peace offering, bring a male or female without blemish from the herd or flock, or a male or female goat without blemish, and offer it as a burnt offering." Instead, specific instructions are given for cows and bulls, lambs (but not sheep), and goats, and the instructions are almost exactly the same for all three. One is to lay one's hand on the head of the animal, kill it at the entrance to the tent of meeting, splash the blood on the sides of the altar, cut out the kidneys and half the liver with their fat, and burn them as a food offering on the altar. Now, these instructions are consistent with the instructions given in chapter 1, in the sense that one could carry out both sets of directions simultaneously, but they partly overlap in odd ways. For instance, if the peace offering instructions were meant to supplement the chapter 1 instructions, why say in chapter 3 that one must lay one's hand on the head of the animal, which was already instructed in chapter 1? But, one is apparently allowed to offer male and female sheep as peace offerings, but instructions are only given for offering lambs (v. 6). This suggests that one should use the chapter 1 instructions when giving sheep as peace offerings (since no other instructions have been given). Unfortunately, it is not clear how this affects our interpretation of the rest of chapter 3. The lack of instructions for sheep could suggest that the instructions given for goats and herd animals are alternatives to the chapter 1 instructions, or it could suggest that since the chapter 1 instructions are used in one case, they should be used in the others as well. The final difficulty is that it is not really clear when one is supposed to give a peace offering. Presumably it is to establish peace, but after what kinds of conflicts? If answers to these questions start presenting themselves, I will have to make a supplemental post.
I also find it interesting that the smell of the burnt offerings is called, "a pleasing aroma to the Lord" (v. 5, 16). My assumption is that what is offered on the altar is not cooked to be eaten (see v. 16-17), but burned until it will burn no longer and in my experience burnt food products produce rather off-putting odors. There would also be blood all over the place, what with animals being butchered and blood being splashed on the sides of the altar. While I haven't been sniffing puddles of animal blood lately, I imagine it doesn't smell great. (As an aside, I'll bet the priests also had a rough time trying to keep the place clean.) So why say the aroma is pleasing? Well, this could mean at least two things. One is that the smell itself of the offering is pleasant, and the other is that it is pleasant that the smell of the offering is being produced. I find the latter interpretation more plausible. First, the notion of God smelling the offering seems clearly metaphorical. God isn't a material being like us, and while I don't know what sorts of senses God has, they probably aren't like ours. Thus, He is likely communicating metaphorically using images we can relate to. Furthermore, the second interpretation places the focus on the purpose the offering--to make peace--rather than the offering itself. So on the second reading, what pleases God about the offering is the relational restoration. It's not like He just wants to smell burning fat and organs, He wants restored relationships. And since that is what the peace offering accomplishes, its smell is pleasing.
If I am right about why the aroma of a peace offering is pleasing, there is also an interesting juxtaposition of pleasant and unpleasant. The process of sacrificing an animal is bloody and dirty, smelly, and disgusting, whereas the outcome is good and pleasant, cleansing, and restoring. It's occurred to me before in reading Deuteronomy that one lesson of the Law might be that once some kind of injustice has been committed, we're already way outside the realm of pleasant solutions even when good outcomes are still possible. I suspect we'll see similar ideas playing out in Leviticus.
Well, I guess that's enough for now! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas Eve, and God bless you, every one!
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Leviticus 2: Grain Offerings
Today I will be writing about Leviticus 2, and I will begin by clearing up two small questions that occurred to me while reading. To lay the groundwork, chapter 2 is all about grain offerings, which are called food offerings (firstfruit offerings are also mentioned, but are not the main focus). Essentially, the instructions are to bring fine flour mixed with oil, and frankincense. One may cook the flour with the oil in a number of ways so long as no leavening used. Then, a handful of the offering, called the memorial portion, is burned on the altar and the rest is left for Aaron and his sons. Oh, and the offerings should be seasoned with salt.
Generally speaking I read from the ESV translation of the Bible, and in its rendition of chapter 2 it says that, however the grain offering is prepared, the main ingredient should be fine flour. So I wondered if 'fine' means 'high quality', or 'ground especially thoroughly'. I looked at a few other translations, and the NIV uses the phrase, 'of the finest flour', which strongly suggests the fine means high quality reading. I also don't know much about frankincense. It turns out that it's made from tree sap and smells especially nice when it burns. Also, it is not edible. So (as verses 2 and 16 suggest) all the frankincense would be burned while only a handful of the flour and oil would be burned.
Moving on to more substantive matters, two things struck me about chapter 2. One is that no quantities are specified. There are no instructions given about how much flour, oil, or frankincense to bring, nor any instructions about when or why they are to be brought. Unfortunately, I don't have any deeply insightful thoughts here. My one idea is that chapters 1 and 2 are not laying out burnt offerings and grain offerings as distinct kinds of offerings, but that they define procedures that will be commonly used in other offerings (e.g. sin offerings or peace offerings). That there is a memorial portion of the grain offering could support this reading since there is no mention of what is being commemorated. So we will just have to wait an see if later chapters bear out this interpretation.
The other interesting point is the specification that the portion of the offering for Aaron and his sons is "a most holy part of the Lord's food offering" (v.3,10). Why this clarification? First, it looks like the text is emphasizing that the whole portion is the offering, not just the portion burned on the altar. This strikes me as useful since, even just imagining being there, it seems like it would be easy to think that only the burned portion is the holy offering, not the rest. Interestingly, if one remembers that the whole portion is the offering to the Lord, one is prevented from thinking that one is buying a service from the priests. Of course, they are performing a service, but technically they not taking payment from the offering givers. They are (supposedly) serving others only because God told them to. The Lord receives the whole offering and He is the one who uses some of it to provide for the needs of the priests. Instead of "proper transaction," it's gifts all around. One last thought about the phrase quoted above is that it emphasizes how a thing can be holy even if it is used for mundane purposes. Presumably Aaron and his sons are just going to bake and eat the flour and oil, and it seems natural to me to think that if something can be used in so ordinary a way, then it can't be holy. But evidently not. Even the ordinary can be holy. Perhaps the idea is that, when something is given to the Lord, it is sacred no matter what it is used for, and He can command that it be used for apparently anti-climactic ends.
As always, there is much more to say, but I think that is enough for now. Have a wonderful day, and God bless!
Generally speaking I read from the ESV translation of the Bible, and in its rendition of chapter 2 it says that, however the grain offering is prepared, the main ingredient should be fine flour. So I wondered if 'fine' means 'high quality', or 'ground especially thoroughly'. I looked at a few other translations, and the NIV uses the phrase, 'of the finest flour', which strongly suggests the fine means high quality reading. I also don't know much about frankincense. It turns out that it's made from tree sap and smells especially nice when it burns. Also, it is not edible. So (as verses 2 and 16 suggest) all the frankincense would be burned while only a handful of the flour and oil would be burned.
Moving on to more substantive matters, two things struck me about chapter 2. One is that no quantities are specified. There are no instructions given about how much flour, oil, or frankincense to bring, nor any instructions about when or why they are to be brought. Unfortunately, I don't have any deeply insightful thoughts here. My one idea is that chapters 1 and 2 are not laying out burnt offerings and grain offerings as distinct kinds of offerings, but that they define procedures that will be commonly used in other offerings (e.g. sin offerings or peace offerings). That there is a memorial portion of the grain offering could support this reading since there is no mention of what is being commemorated. So we will just have to wait an see if later chapters bear out this interpretation.
The other interesting point is the specification that the portion of the offering for Aaron and his sons is "a most holy part of the Lord's food offering" (v.3,10). Why this clarification? First, it looks like the text is emphasizing that the whole portion is the offering, not just the portion burned on the altar. This strikes me as useful since, even just imagining being there, it seems like it would be easy to think that only the burned portion is the holy offering, not the rest. Interestingly, if one remembers that the whole portion is the offering to the Lord, one is prevented from thinking that one is buying a service from the priests. Of course, they are performing a service, but technically they not taking payment from the offering givers. They are (supposedly) serving others only because God told them to. The Lord receives the whole offering and He is the one who uses some of it to provide for the needs of the priests. Instead of "proper transaction," it's gifts all around. One last thought about the phrase quoted above is that it emphasizes how a thing can be holy even if it is used for mundane purposes. Presumably Aaron and his sons are just going to bake and eat the flour and oil, and it seems natural to me to think that if something can be used in so ordinary a way, then it can't be holy. But evidently not. Even the ordinary can be holy. Perhaps the idea is that, when something is given to the Lord, it is sacred no matter what it is used for, and He can command that it be used for apparently anti-climactic ends.
As always, there is much more to say, but I think that is enough for now. Have a wonderful day, and God bless!
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Leviticus 1
Leviticus 1 begins to introduce the sacrificial law, and a couple of interesting things jumped out at me. The first is how gruesome the laws are. For bulls, for instance, one is to bring it to the tent of meeting, lay one's hand on its head, then cut it's head off, splash the drained blood on the sides of the altar, flay it, and burn it. That seems really harsh, especially for something that's doing morally significant work in one's place (chapter 1 seems to be in the context of guilt offerings). In addition to this apparent brutality, a number of procedural requirements seem very arbitrary. For instance, when one is offering a sheep as a burnt offering it has to be killed on the north side of the altar, but only when it's a sheep. Why the north side? Why only for sheep? It's very specific and doesn't obviously symbolize anything. Of course, I might simply be unaware of what the symbolic import is, but I'll set that aside for now.
So I was wondering why the person bringing the offering needs to engage in so much bloody gruesomeness, and why the laws are so particular in a way that is not obviously symbolically or practically useful. About the gruesomeness, my thought is that it could be meant to impress on the offerer the seriousness of what the sacrifice is being offered for--in this case, it seems to be guilt. It is the one offering (say) a bull who has to make a connection with it by laying hands on its head, and then kill it by slitting its throat and letting the blood drain out. One thought is that this is supposed to tell the person who brought the bull just how fortunate he is to have the animal taking the penalty for guilt for him. But you might be thinking, "Aaron, these people lived in an agrarian society. They would have been used to killing animals and probably would not have thought much of it. And even if someone did find it gruesome to sacrifice an animal the first time, what about 50th time? Surely everyone would get used to this kind of thing." And this leads me to my thought about the apparently useless, but very particular, instructions. My thought is that they might be there to curb an inclination toward brutality that might come out of repeatedly killing things sacrificially. I think it is pretty clear that humans can acquire a taste being brutal, and by making sacrifices very particular and very procedural, one might think that this inclination would be curbed. Even if one does not find it remarkable to slaughter an animal in the manner prescribed, hopefully one will at least not come to really enjoy killing that way simply because it is a ritualistic hassle to do so. By making the instructions so exacting, God might be attempting to remind the Israelites that they are performing God's ceremonies for God's purposes.
I'm sure there is much more to say about chapter 1, and much more going on, but I hope you enjoyed my little tidbit on it! Have a wonderful day.
So I was wondering why the person bringing the offering needs to engage in so much bloody gruesomeness, and why the laws are so particular in a way that is not obviously symbolically or practically useful. About the gruesomeness, my thought is that it could be meant to impress on the offerer the seriousness of what the sacrifice is being offered for--in this case, it seems to be guilt. It is the one offering (say) a bull who has to make a connection with it by laying hands on its head, and then kill it by slitting its throat and letting the blood drain out. One thought is that this is supposed to tell the person who brought the bull just how fortunate he is to have the animal taking the penalty for guilt for him. But you might be thinking, "Aaron, these people lived in an agrarian society. They would have been used to killing animals and probably would not have thought much of it. And even if someone did find it gruesome to sacrifice an animal the first time, what about 50th time? Surely everyone would get used to this kind of thing." And this leads me to my thought about the apparently useless, but very particular, instructions. My thought is that they might be there to curb an inclination toward brutality that might come out of repeatedly killing things sacrificially. I think it is pretty clear that humans can acquire a taste being brutal, and by making sacrifices very particular and very procedural, one might think that this inclination would be curbed. Even if one does not find it remarkable to slaughter an animal in the manner prescribed, hopefully one will at least not come to really enjoy killing that way simply because it is a ritualistic hassle to do so. By making the instructions so exacting, God might be attempting to remind the Israelites that they are performing God's ceremonies for God's purposes.
I'm sure there is much more to say about chapter 1, and much more going on, but I hope you enjoyed my little tidbit on it! Have a wonderful day.
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