Life at the Altar After Strange Fire Text: Leviticus 10:12-15
Introduction: The Gravity of Worship
We come now to a passage that is heavy with the smell of ozone and grief. Just moments before our text, a terrifying display of God's holiness has occurred. Aaron has just witnessed two of his sons, Nadab and Abihu, consumed by fire from the Lord. They had been consecrated as priests, robed in glory and honor, and stood at the very threshold of the divine presence. But they presumed upon God. They offered "strange fire," a fire God had not commanded. And the fire of God's jealousy for His own name leaped out and devoured them. They died before the Lord.
It is nearly impossible for our modern, sentimental age to process such an event. We have been trained to think of God as a celestial teddy bear, a divine affirmation machine whose chief attribute is being nice. But the God of Scripture is holy, holy, holy. He is a consuming fire. And the central lesson of Leviticus, a lesson written here in smoke and ash, is that you do not approach this God on your own terms. You come His way, or you do not come at all. This is the regulative principle of worship in its starkest form. It is not that God forbade what they did; it is that He did not command it. In worship, what is not commanded is forbidden.
In the immediate aftermath, Moses forbids Aaron and his two remaining sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, from engaging in the customary rites of mourning. They are not to tear their clothes or leave the sanctuary. Their priestly duties, their proximity to the holy things of God, take precedence over even the most profound personal grief. Why? Because the holiness of God is more important than their sorrow. The integrity of God's worship is a matter of life and death, and they are the ministers of it. Aaron's response is a staggering display of submission: "So Aaron held his peace."
It is into this deafening silence, this moment of raw shock and terror, that Moses speaks the words of our text. One might expect a period of suspension, a time to regroup. But that is not what happens. The worship of God does not stop. The service continues. Life at the altar must go on, but it must go on according to God's precise instructions. This is not heartless bureaucracy. This is grace. In the very shadow of a terrifying judgment, God makes provision for His priests to eat in His presence. He invites them to a meal. Judgment and grace, terror and fellowship, are held together in a way that should arrest our attention. God disciplines His house severely, and then immediately sets the table for the faithful who remain.
The Text
Then Moses spoke to Aaron and to his remaining sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, “Take the remaining grain offering from the offerings to Yahweh by fire and eat it unleavened beside the altar, for it is most holy. And you shall eat it in a holy place because it is a statute for you and a statute for your sons taken out of the offerings of Yahweh by fire; for thus I have been commanded. The breast of the wave offering, however, and the thigh of the contribution offering you may eat in a clean place, you and your sons and your daughters with you; for they have been given as a statute for you and a statute for your sons taken out of the sacrifices of the peace offerings of the sons of Israel. The thigh contributed by raising up and the breast offered by waving they shall bring along with the offerings by fire of the portions of fat, to wave as a wave offering before Yahweh; so it shall be a perpetual statute for you and your sons with you, just as Yahweh has commanded.”
(Leviticus 10:12-15 LSB)
Eating in the Shadow of the Altar (v. 12-13)
The first instruction concerns the grain offering, the Mincha. This was an offering of consecration, representing the dedication of one's life and labor to God.
"Take the remaining grain offering from the offerings to Yahweh by fire and eat it unleavened beside the altar, for it is most holy. And you shall eat it in a holy place because it is a statute for you and a statute for your sons taken out of the offerings of Yahweh by fire; for thus I have been commanded." (Leviticus 10:12-13)
Notice the immediacy. "Take the remaining grain offering." The fire that consumed Nadab and Abihu was a judgment on improper worship, but it did not invalidate the legitimate offerings that had been brought. God's economy continues. A memorial portion of this grain offering had been turned to smoke on the altar, ascending to God. The remainder belongs to the priests. This is their portion, their food, their wages from the Lord.
They are to eat it "unleavened." Leaven in Scripture is consistently a symbol of sin, corruption, and pride. It puffs up. In the aftermath of a sin that was egregiously puffed up with self-will, the priests are to eat the bread of sincerity and truth. Their sustenance must be pure. There can be no hint of the corrupting influence that has just brought ruin upon their house.
And the location is critical: "beside the altar, for it is most holy." They are to eat this in "a holy place," which means within the tabernacle courtyard. This meal is not for the family back at the tent. This is a meal for the priests on duty. Because the offering is "most holy," it must be consumed in immediate proximity to the center of worship. The holiness of the food dictates the holiness of the location. This is a profound picture of communion. God accepts the offering of the people's work, and from His own table, the altar, He feeds His ministers. Their life and strength for service comes directly from the offerings made to God. They live off the altar.
A Meal for the Whole Family (v. 14)
Next, Moses turns to the priests' portion from the peace offering. And here, the circle of fellowship widens significantly.
"The breast of the wave offering, however, and the thigh of the contribution offering you may eat in a clean place, you and your sons and your daughters with you; for they have been given as a statute for you and a statute for your sons taken out of the sacrifices of the peace offerings of the sons of Israel." (Leviticus 10:14 LSB)
The peace offering was a fellowship meal. The worshiper, having made peace with God, would eat the bulk of the sacrificed animal in a celebratory meal with his family and friends. God received His portion, the fat, on the altar. And the priest, who facilitated this reconciliation, also received his portion. This portion is specified as the breast and the right thigh.
But look at the difference in location. This is not to be eaten in the "holy place," but in any "clean place." This means the priests could take this food home. And who is to eat it? "You and your sons and your daughters with you." The communion of the grain offering was for the ordained men at their post. But the fruit of the peace offering extends to the entire priestly household. The daughters get to eat too. This is a covenantal meal. The blessings of peace with God flow from the altar, through the priest, to his entire family.
This establishes a crucial distinction between the holy and the common, or in this case, the holy and the clean. The tabernacle courtyard is holy. The camp of Israel is clean. Not everything has to happen in the sanctuary, but everything must be done in a state of cleanness. This is a principle of sanctification. We have moments of intense, focused worship, our time in the holy place. But that holiness is meant to extend outward, making our homes and our daily lives "clean" places where we can feast on the blessings of God. The peace we have with God is not meant to be locked up in a church building; it is meant to be taken home and shared at the dinner table with our children.
Presented to God, Given to Men (v. 15)
This final verse explains the ritual action by which these portions were set apart for the priests.
"The thigh contributed by raising up and the breast offered by waving they shall bring along with the offerings by fire of the portions of fat, to wave as a wave offering before Yahweh; so it shall be a perpetual statute for you and your sons with you, just as Yahweh has commanded." (Leviticus 10:15 LSB)
The breast was a "wave offering." The priest would take this portion and wave it horizontally before the Lord, symbolically presenting it to God who sits enthroned over the whole earth. The thigh was a "contribution offering," sometimes called a heave offering. This was lifted up vertically, presenting it to God in the heavens. These ritual actions were a visual demonstration. This food belongs to God. It is first given entirely to Him.
And what does God do? He gives it right back to the priests. This is the grammar of grace. We give to God what is already His, and He, in His generosity, provides for us out of that gift. He is never in our debt. Our service to Him, our ministry, does not put Him in a position where He owes us. Rather, our sustenance is a gift of grace, flowing from the offerings presented to Him. The fat, the best part, is consumed on the altar, God gets the glory. The breast, representing the heart or affections, and the thigh, representing strength, are given to His servants to sustain them.
And this is a "perpetual statute." This is not a temporary arrangement. This principle of God providing for His ministers from the offerings of His people is to be a permanent fixture in the life of Israel. This is why Paul, centuries later, can argue that those who preach the gospel should make their living from the gospel, citing this very principle of the priests living off the altar (1 Cor. 9:13-14). The form changes, we no longer sacrifice bulls and goats, but the principle, the general equity, remains. The worship of God's people is to sustain the ministry of God's Word.
From the Altar of Judgment to the Table of Grace
So what does this mean for us, who live on this side of the cross? The entire sacrificial system was a magnificent audio-visual aid, designed to teach us about Christ. Jesus is the final and perfect offering. He is our grain offering, the bread of life, whose life was perfectly consecrated to the Father. He is our peace offering, who made peace by the blood of His cross (Col. 1:20). The judgment that fell on Nadab and Abihu for their profane offering fell in its full force upon Him at Calvary. The fire of God's wrath against sin consumed Him.
And because He was consumed, we are invited to the feast. We, as a royal priesthood in Christ (1 Pet. 2:9), are now invited to eat at the altar. When we come to the Lord's Table, we are coming to a "holy place." We are eating a "most holy" meal. We are partaking of the body and blood of the Lord. And this is not just a memorial. This is communion. This is God feeding us, sustaining us, nourishing us with the benefits of Christ's perfect sacrifice.
And the blessings of that table, the peace we have with God, are to be taken to our homes, to our "clean places." We are to feast on Christ not just on Sunday morning, but with our sons and our daughters throughout the week. The peace we celebrate here is the peace that must govern our households. The unleavened bread we eat here is the sincerity and truth that must characterize our lives there.
The story of Leviticus 10 is our story. We are a people who stand in the shadow of a great and terrible judgment against sin at the cross. But in that very place, God does not tell us to run and hide. He tells us to draw near and eat. He has made a provision. He has accepted the offering. And He now invites us, His priests, His sons, and His daughters, to the fellowship meal. This is a perpetual statute. It is the life of the new covenant. Therefore, let us hold fast, let us serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a consuming fire, and He is also the gracious host of the feast.