Christ in His Youth: The Firstfruits Offering Text: Leviticus 2:14-16
Introduction: The Grammar of Gratitude
We modern Christians have a bad habit of treating the book of Leviticus like an old, dusty attic in the house of Scripture. We know it's there, we assume it's structurally important, but we have no real desire to go rummaging around in it. We are convinced it is full of strange, irrelevant furniture and perhaps a few theological spiders. But in doing this, we make a profound mistake. Leviticus is not the attic; it is the kitchen. It is the place where the meals of fellowship with God are prepared. It lays out for us the very grammar of worship, the syntax of sacrifice, and the vocabulary of communion.
Our age is one of profound ingratitude. We live in a time of unprecedented material prosperity, and yet we are spiritually destitute, perpetually aggrieved, and sullen. This is because we have forgotten how to give thanks, and we have forgotten because we have forgotten to whom we are to give thanks. We think we are the authors of our own blessings, and so we have no one to thank but ourselves, which is the very definition of vanity. The grain offering in Leviticus is a direct assault on this autonomous pride. It is a tribute offering, a glad acknowledgment that every good thing comes from the hand of a sovereign God. It is not an offering for sin, like the burnt offering. Rather, it is what comes after. Once atonement is made, what is the proper response? The proper response is a life of grateful service, and this is what the grain offering represents.
The specific offering we have before us today, the offering of firstfruits, is a particularly potent lesson. It is about giving God the first and the best, not the leftovers. It is about honoring Him with the green, fresh, vibrant beginnings of the harvest, not the dried-out remnants after we have had our fill. And as with all the sacrifices, this is not a dead ritual. It is a living picture, a detailed portrait, of the Lord Jesus Christ. This offering shows us Christ in His youth, in the freshness of His life, offered up to God as a fragrant aroma. And it shows us what our own lives of gratitude ought to look like in response.
The Text
‘Also if you bring near a grain offering of early ripened things to Yahweh, you shall bring near fresh heads of grain roasted in the fire, grits of new growth, for the grain offering of your early ripened things. You shall then put oil on it and place frankincense on it; it is a grain offering. And the priest shall offer up in smoke its memorial portion, part of its grits and its oil with all its frankincense as an offering by fire to Yahweh.’
(Leviticus 2:14-16 LSB)
The Best, Touched by Fire (v. 14)
We begin with the nature of the offering itself.
"Also if you bring near a grain offering of early ripened things to Yahweh, you shall bring near fresh heads of grain roasted in the fire, grits of new growth, for the grain offering of your early ripened things." (Leviticus 2:14)
The first thing to notice is that this is an offering of "early ripened things," or firstfruits. This is foundational. God lays claim to the first of everything: the firstborn son, the firstborn of the flock, and the firstfruits of the harvest. Why? Because giving God the first is a tangible declaration that He is first. It is an act of faith. The farmer who gives the first sheaf of barley to the priest is trusting that God will provide the rest of the harvest. He is not waiting to see how much he has before deciding what he can "afford" to give. He is acknowledging God's total ownership of the entire field from the outset.
This principle demolishes our modern budgeting approach to piety. We give God what is left over from our paycheck, from our week, from our energy. But God requires the firstfruits. This means the first part of our income in the tithe, the first part of our week in the Lord's Day, and the first part of our day in prayer and devotion. To give God the first is to order the rest of our lives correctly. To give Him the leftovers is to live in a state of practical atheism, acting as though we are the lords of our own lives.
And what is the character of this offering? It is "fresh heads of grain roasted in the fire, grits of new growth." This speaks of youth, vitality, and potential. This is not old, stale grain from last year's harvest. It is the promise of the new season. And it is here that we see a beautiful picture of Christ. The Apostle Paul tells us that Christ is the "firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep" (1 Cor. 15:20). His resurrection is the fresh, green shoot from the dead soil of the grave, guaranteeing the full harvest of our own resurrection to come.
But this fresh grain is "roasted in the fire." The fire here represents trial and testing. The offering is not raw; it has been prepared. This points to the life of our Lord. From His youth, He was tested. He endured the fire of temptation in the wilderness, the fire of opposition from the Pharisees, and the fire of suffering throughout His ministry. He was the green ear of wheat, full of life, yet passed through the flames of affliction, all to be made a perfect offering. His life was not one of ease. It was a life of consecrated suffering, making Him a fragrant aroma to the Father.
The Anointing and the Aroma (v. 15)
Next, two crucial elements are added to the prepared grain.
"You shall then put oil on it and place frankincense on it; it is a grain offering." (Leviticus 2:15)
Oil in the Scriptures is consistently a symbol of the Holy Spirit. It is the oil of anointing, of consecration, of setting apart for a holy purpose. When Samuel anointed David, the Spirit of the Lord rushed upon him (1 Sam. 16:13). Jesus Himself began His public ministry by declaring, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me..." (Luke 4:18). The grain offering, representing Christ's perfect humanity, had to be anointed with oil. This signifies that Christ's entire life, from beginning to end, was lived in the power of and in perfect submission to the Holy Spirit. He was conceived by the Spirit, led by the Spirit, and offered Himself through the eternal Spirit (Heb. 9:14). This is a trinitarian sacrifice.
This also instructs us about our own offerings of service. We are to serve God not in the strength of our own flesh, but in the power of the Spirit. Any work done for God that is not "anointed with oil" is just dead works. It is the clanging of a cymbal. It is our own strength, our own cleverness, and it is an offense. But when we offer our lives, our work, our praise, in dependence on the Holy Spirit, it becomes part of the acceptable grain offering.
Then, frankincense is placed upon it. Frankincense was a costly, fragrant resin that, when burned, produced a beautiful aroma. It is a symbol of prayer and intercession. David prays, "Let my prayer be set before You as incense" (Psalm 141:2). In Revelation, the golden bowls full of incense are "the prayers of the saints" (Rev. 5:8). The life of Christ was a life of perfect prayer. His entire earthly ministry was saturated with communion with His Father. The frankincense on the offering represents the pleasing aroma of Christ's perfect, prayerful devotion ascending to the Father. His life was not just one of action, but of constant, sweet-smelling fellowship with God. This is what made His sacrifice acceptable. It was not just the act of the cross, but the heart behind the act.
The Memorial Portion (v. 16)
Finally, the offering is brought to the priest and placed on the altar.
"And the priest shall offer up in smoke its memorial portion, part of its grits and its oil with all its frankincense as an offering by fire to Yahweh." (Leviticus 2:16)
The priest takes a "memorial portion" and burns it on the altar. This word "memorial" means a reminder. But who is being reminded? It is a reminder to God. Not that God forgets, but in the language of the covenant, this is God "remembering" His promises and His people. When the aroma of the offering ascended, God smelled it and remembered His covenant. The offering of Christ is the ultimate memorial. When God looks at Christ, He remembers His covenant of grace and accepts us for His sake. Our acceptance before God is not based on Him remembering our good deeds, but on Him remembering Christ's perfect offering.
Notice what constitutes this memorial portion. It is part of the grits, part of the oil, and all of the frankincense. The substance of the life (the grain), the power of the life (the oil), and all the prayer and worship of that life (the frankincense) are offered up. The frankincense is not divided. All of Christ's worship, all of His prayer, belongs entirely to God. It all ascends as a fragrant aroma. This is why our prayers are only acceptable when they are offered in Jesus' name. We are, in effect, placing our prayers on the altar with His frankincense, so that the aroma of His perfect intercession might make our faltering prayers acceptable.
This is an "offering by fire to Yahweh." The fire of God's holiness consumes the offering. For Christ, this was the fire of judgment on the cross, which He absorbed on our behalf. For us, as we offer ourselves as living sacrifices (Rom. 12:1), it is the refining fire of sanctification. God consumes our pride, our self-reliance, and our sin, so that what remains is a life that is a pleasing aroma to Him, a memorial of His grace in us.
The Firstfruits of Our Lives
So what does this mean for us? It means that because Christ is the true Firstfruits offering, we are now called to be a kind of firstfruits ourselves (James 1:18). Our lives are to be the responsive grain offering, presented to God in gratitude for the finished work of the burnt offering, which is Christ's atonement.
This means we must bring God the "fresh heads of grain" from our lives. We are to give Him our youth, our energy, our best years. The tragedy of the modern church is that it is filled with people who gave their youth to the world and now want to offer God their retirement. But God calls for the firstfruits. He wants your strength, your ambition, your vitality, dedicated to Him.
Our lives must be "roasted in the fire." We should not be surprised by trials. The Christian life is not a playground; it is a furnace. God uses the pressures and afflictions of this life to prepare us as an offering, to burn away the chaff and make us more like Christ. We must endure this roasting with joy, knowing that it is producing in us an eternal weight of glory.
Our offering must be covered in oil and frankincense. We must live lives utterly dependent on the Holy Spirit, seeking His anointing on everything we do. And our lives must be characterized by prayer. A prayerless Christian is a contradiction in terms. It is like an offering with no frankincense, producing no aroma for God.
And finally, we offer ourselves as a memorial. Our lives, lived in faith and gratitude, become a signpost, a reminder to a watching world of the goodness and grace of our God. We are the aroma of Christ to God (2 Cor. 2:15). Because the true Firstfruit has been offered, roasted, anointed, and accepted, we can now, with joy, bring the full harvest of our lives and lay it on the altar as a tribute to the King.