The Poor Man's Gospel Text: Leviticus 1:14-17
Introduction: The Grammar of Acceptable Worship
We come now to a portion of Leviticus that the modern mind, and even many a modern Christian mind, finds bewildering, if not faintly distasteful. We are talking about blood, and feathers, and fire. We are in the realm of animal sacrifice, a world that seems utterly alien to our sanitized, shrink-wrapped, and secularized age. Our generation wants a god, to be sure, but they want a god who can be approached on their own terms, a god who requires nothing more than a vague sincerity and a general feeling of goodwill. They want a god who can be worshipped without getting your hands dirty.
But the God of the Bible, the only true and living God, is not a tame god. He is a holy God, which means He is a consuming fire. To approach Him is the most dangerous and glorious thing a creature can do. And because He is a good and gracious God, He does not leave us to guess how this approach is to be made. He gives us a grammar, a divinely revealed liturgy, for acceptable worship. Leviticus is the great textbook of that grammar. It teaches us that we cannot simply saunter into God's presence. Sin has created an infinite chasm between us and Him, and that chasm must be bridged. It must be bridged by a substitute, by the shedding of blood, because the wages of sin is death.
The burnt offering, which we are studying in this first chapter, is the foundational sacrifice. It is the offering of total consecration, wholly consumed on the altar. It speaks of a complete surrender, a life entirely given over to God. And what we find in our text today is a remarkable provision. After describing the offering of a bull for the wealthy, and a sheep or goat for the middle class, God makes a way for the poorest of the poor. He makes a way for the man who has nothing but a pair of birds to his name. This is not some minor footnote in the Levitical code. This is the gospel in miniature. It is a declaration that access to God is not predicated on your net worth. It is a polemic against every form of works-righteousness, whether the work is the labor of your hands or the balance in your bank account. God ensures that the poorest man in Israel can be just as fully accepted as the richest, because the ground of acceptance is not the value of the offering, but the grace of the God to whom it is offered.
This passage is a profound comfort, a glorious picture of Christ, and a sharp rebuke to our pride. It teaches us that God looks not at the size of the gift, but at the heart of the giver, and more importantly, at the substitute He Himself has provided.
The Text
‘But if his offering to Yahweh is a burnt offering of birds, then he shall bring near his offering from the turtledoves or from young pigeons. And the priest shall bring it near to the altar and wring off its head and offer it up in smoke on the altar; and its blood is to be drained out on theside of the altar. He shall also take away its crop with its feathers and cast it beside the altar eastward, to the place of the ashes. Then he shall tear it by its wings, but he shall not separate it. And the priest shall offer it up in smoke on the altar on the wood which is on the fire; it is a burnt offering, an offering by fire of a soothing aroma to Yahweh.’
(Leviticus 1:14-17 LSB)
God's Gracious Concession (v. 14)
We begin with the provision itself.
"‘But if his offering to Yahweh is a burnt offering of birds, then he shall bring near his offering from the turtledoves or from young pigeons.’" (Leviticus 1:14)
The first thing to notice is God's gracious condescension. The structure of the chapter moves from the most expensive offering, a bull from the herd, to a sheep or a goat from the flock, and now to birds. This is a sliding scale of grace. God is ensuring that no one in the covenant community is excluded from the central act of worship by poverty. This is a direct assault on the pagan assumption that the gods favor the rich. In the pagan world, you got the attention of the gods by the sheer expense of your sacrifice. But Yahweh is not for sale. His favor cannot be bought.
This provision for the poor is a thread that runs throughout the law. And it finds its most poignant expression in the New Testament, when a poor young couple, Mary and Joseph, come to the temple to present their firstborn son. What offering do they bring? Luke tells us they brought "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons" (Luke 2:24), the very offering of the poor prescribed here in Leviticus. The Lord of glory, the one to whom every beast of the forest belongs, entered our world in poverty. He was consecrated by the poor man's offering. He is not a Savior for the wealthy and well-put-together. He is the Savior for the bankrupt, for those who have nothing to offer but what His own grace provides.
The choice of turtledoves or pigeons is also significant. These are gentle, lowly birds. They are symbols of innocence and peace. This is not a ferocious beast being brought to the altar, but a humble one. It is a picture of the one who was "gentle and lowly in heart" (Matt. 11:29), the one who did not cry out or raise His voice in the streets. The nature of the animal itself preaches the character of the Christ it represents.
The Graphic Work of the Priest (v. 15-16)
Next, we see the specific, and rather graphic, duties of the priest.
"And the priest shall bring it near to the altar and wring off its head and offer it up in smoke on the altar; and its blood is to be drained out on the side of the altar. He shall also take away its crop with its feathers and cast it beside the altar eastward, to the place of the ashes." (Leviticus 1:15-16)
Unlike the larger sacrifices, where the worshiper killed the animal, here the priest performs the entire action. He brings it, he kills it, he drains the blood, he prepares it, and he burns it. This highlights the mediatorial role of the priesthood. The poor man, with his humble offering, is utterly dependent on the priest to make the sacrifice acceptable. We, in our spiritual poverty, are utterly dependent on our Great High Priest, Jesus Christ, to present us before the Father.
The actions are stark. The head is wrung off. The blood, which is the life, is drained out against the altar. There is no way to read this and conclude that sin is a small matter. This is a violent, bloody business. A life is forfeit. Death is the necessary payment. This ritual drummed into the consciousness of every Israelite, week after week, that their sin deserved death. Every bleating sheep, every slain bird, was a sermon preaching, "The wages of sin is death." And every accepted offering was a sermon preaching, "But God in His grace provides a substitute."
Then there is the matter of the crop and feathers. The crop is part of the digestive tract, and it is cast aside with the feathers to the place of the ashes, on the east side of the altar. This is a picture of purification. The refuse, the filth, is removed before the offering is placed on the fire. This speaks to the inner purity of the true sacrifice. Christ was not merely outwardly perfect; He was inwardly spotless. There was no sin, no guile, no refuse found in Him. He was the pure offering, fit for the holy fire of God's altar.
The Offering Made Whole (v. 17)
The final verse describes the last act of preparation and the divine verdict.
"Then he shall tear it by its wings, but he shall not separate it. And the priest shall offer it up in smoke on the altar on the wood which is on the fire; it is a burnt offering, an offering by fire of a soothing aroma to Yahweh." (Leviticus 1:17)
The priest is to tear the bird open by its wings, but not rip it in two. The larger animals were dismembered, but the bird is to remain whole. This tearing open serves to expose the inner parts to the fire, ensuring it is wholly consumed. Yet, its wholeness is preserved. This is a beautiful picture of Christ. On the cross, His body was torn. The prophet said He was "pierced for our transgressions" and "crushed for our iniquities" (Isaiah 53:5). Yet the Scriptures were careful to note that not one of His bones was broken (John 19:36). He was torn, but not separated. He was offered up whole and entire, a complete and sufficient sacrifice.
And what is God's response to this offering? It is "a burnt offering, an offering by fire of a soothing aroma to Yahweh." This phrase, "soothing aroma," is key. It doesn't mean God enjoys the smell of burning feathers. The Hebrew speaks of an aroma of rest, or satisfaction. God's justice, which burns hot against sin, is satisfied by the death of the substitute. His wrath is appeased. He rests. This is the doctrine of propitiation in picture form. The sacrifice absorbs the holy fire of God's judgment, and what ascends to God is a fragrance of satisfaction. Justice has been done. The sinner can be accepted.
And notice, the offering of the poor man's pigeons produces the very same result as the rich man's bull. The text says of the bull, it is a "soothing aroma" (Lev. 1:9). And it says of the bird, it is a "soothing aroma." The value is not in the animal; the value is in the divine institution and what it points to. God is just as satisfied with the humble, obedient faith of the poor man as He is with the great offering of the wealthy. What pleases Him is the faith that lays its hand on the head of the substitute He has appointed.
Christ, Our Humble Offering
This entire ritual is a magnificent portrait of the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the offering for the poor. He came with no earthly wealth or pedigree. He was born in a stable and laid in a feeding trough. His parents consecrated Him with the offering of the poor. He lived a humble life, the son of a carpenter. He was despised and rejected by men.
He is the one whose blood was drained out on the side of the ultimate altar, the cross at Golgotha. He is the one who was inwardly pure, with no filth or refuse to be cast aside. He is the one who was torn for us, yet remained whole, and offered Himself up completely to the consuming fire of God's holiness. And His sacrifice, once for all, was the ultimate soothing aroma to the Father. God's justice is now and forever satisfied with the offering of His Son. Paul says it plainly: "Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma" (Ephesians 5:2).
Because of this, the ground is level at the foot of the cross. It does not matter if you come with a life that looks like a prize bull, full of accomplishments and moral successes. It does not matter if you come with a life that looks like a pair of pigeons, full of failure, weakness, and shame. In fact, it is better to be the man who knows he only has pigeons to offer. The gospel is for the spiritually destitute. It is for those who know they are bankrupt and have nothing to bring. All that is required is that you abandon all pretense of bringing your own sacrifice, and instead receive the one He has provided.
You come with your empty hands of faith, and you receive the perfect, complete, and wholly sufficient sacrifice of the Lord Jesus. You bring your sin, your failure, your poverty, and you lay it on Him. And in return, His perfect righteousness, His total consecration, His acceptance before the Father becomes yours. His sacrifice is the only soothing aroma, and when you are found in Him, you too become acceptable to God. That is the gospel for the poor, which is to say, it is the gospel for every last one of us.