Strange Fire and the Silence of Aaron Text: Leviticus 10:1-3
Introduction: Worship Wars
We live in an age that has domesticated God. We have turned the consuming fire of Sinai into a decorative scented candle for the coffee table. Our modern worship is often a self-centered affair, designed to produce a particular emotional experience in us. We judge our worship services by how they make us feel, by their authenticity, by their relevance, by their creativity. We want a God who is our buddy, our co-pilot, our therapist. And so we approach Him with a casualness that would have been unthinkable to any previous generation of saints.
We believe that sincerity is the gold standard of worship. If we mean it, if it comes from the heart, then God must be pleased with it. But the Scriptures beg to differ, and they do so in the most startling and violent way imaginable. The story of Nadab and Abihu is a bucket of ice water thrown on the slumbering, sentimental church. It is a terrifying and necessary reminder that God is holy, that He is sovereign, and that He, not us, sets the terms of His worship. He is the Creator; we are the creatures. He is the King; we are the subjects. He gives the commands; we obey them.
This passage is not some dusty, irrelevant artifact from a primitive period of Israel's history. It establishes a permanent principle, one that echoes from the Tabernacle to the Church. The principle is this: God will be worshiped according to His own instructions, and not according to our bright ideas. To violate this principle is not a minor liturgical faux pas. It is high treason against the King of heaven, and it invites the severest of judgments. This is the foundation of what theologians call the regulative principle of worship. The question is not, "What has God forbidden?" but rather, "What has God commanded?" If we get this wrong, nothing else can be right.
The Text
Then Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took their respective firepans and put fire in them. Then they placed incense on it and offered strange fire before Yahweh, which He had not commanded them. And fire came out from the presence of Yahweh and consumed them, and they died before Yahweh. Then Moses said to Aaron, "It is what Yahweh spoke, saying, 'By those who come near Me I will be treated as holy, And before all the people I will be glorified.' " So Aaron kept silent.
(Leviticus 10:1-3 LSB)
The Sin of Liturgical Invention (v. 1)
We begin with the act of rebellion itself.
"Then Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took their respective firepans and put fire in them. Then they placed incense on it and offered strange fire before Yahweh, which He had not commanded them." (Leviticus 10:1)
We must first understand who these men were. Nadab and Abihu were not outsiders or novices. They were the two eldest sons of Aaron, the High Priest. They had just been consecrated into the priesthood in a glorious, week-long ceremony. They had stood on Mount Sinai with Moses and the seventy elders and had seen the God of Israel (Ex. 24:9-11). They were insiders, charter members of the new priesthood. Their sin was not a sin of ignorance, but a sin of presumption.
What exactly was their sin? They offered "strange fire." The Hebrew is esh zarah. What made it strange? The text gives us the precise definition: it was fire "which He had not commanded them." The sin was not in doing something God had forbidden, but in doing something God had not authorized. God had commanded that the fire for the incense offering was to be taken from the bronze altar of burnt offering (Lev. 16:12), the altar where atonement was made. This fire was holy, a symbol of God's acceptance of the substitutionary sacrifice. Nadab and Abihu, in their zeal or their pride, likely took fire from some other, common source. They thought they could improve the service. They brought a human-sourced fire into the presence of God.
This is the very essence of will-worship. They were sincere, no doubt. They were probably enthusiastic. But their sincerity was not the issue. The issue was authority. They substituted their own judgment for a divine command. They decided that their way was just as good as God's way. This is the primordial sin of the Garden, replayed in the Tabernacle. It is the creature telling the Creator how things ought to be. All false religion, all idolatry, begins right here, with the seemingly small step of adding our own clever ideas to the worship of God.
The Judgment of Consuming Fire (v. 2)
The divine response is immediate, shocking, and absolute.
"And fire came out from the presence of Yahweh and consumed them, and they died before Yahweh." (Leviticus 10:2 LSB)
Notice where the fire comes from. It came "from the presence of Yahweh." This is the very same fire that had, just one chapter earlier, come out and consumed the sacrifices on the altar, signifying God's glorious acceptance of Aaron's first legitimate offering (Lev. 9:24). The people shouted for joy at that fire. But here, that same holy fire of acceptance becomes the holy fire of judgment. God's holiness is not a tame, manageable force. It is a consuming fire (Heb. 12:29). It is a power that either purifies or destroys. It accepts what is offered on His terms and annihilates what is offered on ours.
This was a precedent-setting judgment. God was establishing, at the very inauguration of the Levitical priesthood, that He is not to be trifled with. He takes the purity of His worship with deadly seriousness. This is the Old Testament equivalent of Ananias and Sapphira being struck dead at the beginning of the New Covenant church (Acts 5). In both cases, God made a terrifying example of the first offenders to teach His people for all generations that He will not tolerate hypocrisy or presumption among His people, especially from the leadership.
They "died before Yahweh." They died in the Holy Place, in the very act of their liturgical rebellion. Their unholy offering was met with holy fire. There was no warning, no second chance. The judgment was as swift as the sin was arrogant.
The Divine Explanation and the Father's Silence (v. 3)
Moses, the covenant mediator, steps in to provide God's own commentary on the event.
"Then Moses said to Aaron, 'It is what Yahweh spoke, saying, "By those who come near Me I will be treated as holy, And before all the people I will be glorified." ' So Aaron kept silent." (Leviticus 10:3 LSB)
Moses does not offer condolences. He offers theology. He explains the non-negotiable principle behind the judgment. "By those who come near Me I will be treated as holy." The standard is higher for those who are closer. Privilege brings responsibility. Pastors, elders, and leaders in the church should take special note. Proximity to the holy things of God is not a ticket to casualness; it is a summons to greater reverence, greater care, and greater obedience. God will not be treated as common, especially by those He has set apart for His service.
And the purpose is clear: "And before all the people I will be glorified." God's glory is the ultimate value in the universe. He will be glorified. The choice before us is whether He will be glorified in our willing, obedient worship, or glorified in our just condemnation. There is no third option. God's reputation was at stake. If He had allowed this unauthorized worship to stand, He would have communicated to all of Israel that He was not serious about His own commands. By striking down Nadab and Abihu, He glorified His own name, demonstrating His holiness, justice, and absolute sovereignty over His house.
And what is Aaron's response? "So Aaron kept silent." This is perhaps the most profound part of the entire narrative. His two sons, his firstborn and his second, lie dead at his feet, incinerated by the God they were serving. And the father, the High Priest, says nothing. This is not the silence of shock or catatonic grief. This is the holy silence of submission. He understood. He accepted the righteousness of God's judgment upon his own house. He did not argue. He did not complain. He did not cry out, "This is not fair!" He put his hand over his mouth and acknowledged that God is God, and that God is holy. He bent the knee of his heart before the terrible majesty of a just God. This is the beginning of true worship.
Our Only Acceptable Fire
This story should drive us to our knees. For who among us has not offered strange fire? Who has not tried to worship God on our own terms, with our own inventions, driven by our own emotional needs? Who has not let their mind wander in prayer, or sung hymns with a divided heart? Our worship is riddled with the strange fire of mixed motives, pride, and distraction. If God judged Nadab and Abihu for a procedural error, what do we deserve?
The only reason we are not consumed is because of another fire, and another sacrifice. The fire of God's wrath that we deserved was poured out upon His only Son at the cross. Jesus Christ, our great High Priest, did not offer a strange fire of his own devising. He offered Himself, the perfect sacrifice, in perfect obedience to the Father's will. He always did what the Father commanded.
And now, because of His finished work, we are invited to draw near. But we do not come with our own fire. We come only through Him. Our prayers, our songs, our offerings are acceptable only when they are offered through the mediating work of Christ and sanctified by the Holy Spirit. He is the true altar, the true sacrifice, and the true fire. Any attempt to approach God on any other basis is to offer strange fire all over again.
Therefore, let us come to God, but let us come with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. Let us throw our liturgical novelties and our man-made traditions onto the scrap heap. Let us open His Word and resolve to worship Him in the way that He has commanded, and in that way alone. And when we are confronted with His holiness, with His absolute authority, let our response be the same as Aaron's: a humble, submissive, and worshipful silence.