Grief, Guilt, and God's Good Pleasure: Text: Leviticus 10:16-20
Introduction: The Aftermath of Strange Fire
We come now to the smoldering aftermath of a terrible event. The tabernacle, God's newly-commissioned house, has just been inaugurated. The glory of the Lord has appeared, fire has fallen from heaven and consumed the offering, and the people have shouted and fallen on their faces. This is the very height of covenantal glory. And then, in a moment, it is shattered. Nadab and Abihu, the two eldest sons of Aaron, in a fit of what was likely wine-fueled presumption, offer unauthorized fire before the Lord. And fire comes out from the Lord and consumes them. They are dead, right there, at the threshold of the Holy Place.
God is not to be trifled with. His holiness is not a metaphor; it is a consuming fire. And when men forget this, when they treat worship as a platform for their own clever innovations or casual whims, the results are catastrophic. Aaron is commanded to be silent in his grief. He and his remaining sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, are forbidden from the customary rites of mourning. They are priests on duty, and the service of the holy God takes precedence over even the most profound personal sorrow. The holiness of God's house must be maintained. The service must continue.
It is in this context of shock, grief, and holy terror that our text unfolds. A dispute breaks out between Moses and Aaron over a point of liturgical procedure. On any other day, this might seem like a minor detail of the sacrificial code. But on this day, with the smell of divine judgment still in the air, every detail is fraught with consequence. What we are about to witness is not a simple misunderstanding. It is a profound pastoral and theological moment, where the unbending demands of God's law intersect with the crushing reality of human frailty. And in it, we learn something crucial about the heart of God, the nature of true worship, and the wisdom that is found in the fear of the Lord.
The Text
But Moses searched carefully for the goat of the sin offering, and behold, it had been burned up! So he was angry with Aaron’s remaining sons Eleazar and Ithamar, saying, "Why did you not eat the sin offering at the holy place? For it is most holy, and He gave it to you to bear away the guilt of the congregation, to make atonement for them before Yahweh. Behold, since its blood had not been brought inside, into the sanctuary, you should certainly have eaten it in the sanctuary, just as I commanded." But Aaron spoke to Moses, "Behold, this very day they brought near their sin offering and their burnt offering before Yahweh. Then things like these happened to me. So if I had eaten a sin offering today, would it have been good in the sight of Yahweh?" So Moses heard this, and it was good in his sight.
(Leviticus 10:16-20 LSB)
Righteous Anger and a Broken Command (vv. 16-18)
We begin with Moses' discovery and his subsequent anger.
"But Moses searched carefully for the goat of the sin offering, and behold, it had been burned up! So he was angry with Aaron’s remaining sons Eleazar and Ithamar, saying, 'Why did you not eat the sin offering at the holy place? For it is most holy, and He gave it to you to bear away the guilt of the congregation, to make atonement for them before Yahweh. Behold, since its blood had not been brought inside, into the sanctuary, you should certainly have eaten it in the sanctuary, just as I commanded.'" (Leviticus 10:16-18)
Moses is the mediator of the covenant. He is the one to whom God gave these intricate laws, and he is responsible for seeing them carried out with precision. He makes a careful search for the goat of the sin offering. This is not a casual glance; Moses is diligent. And what he finds alarms him. The goat has been entirely burned up, contrary to the specific command for this type of offering.
His anger is immediate, and it is righteous. Why? Because on this day of all days, with the bodies of their brothers not yet cold, another command of God has been violated. Moses fears for his nephews. He fears another outbreak of divine judgment. His anger is not a petty outburst; it is born of a holy terror and a deep concern for the house of God and the lives of its ministers. He has just seen what happens when God's commands are flouted.
Moses lays out the charge with legal precision. He reminds them of the nature and purpose of their duty. First, the offering was "most holy." This is not just lunch. This is a sacred meal, a central part of the atonement process. Second, God gave it to them for a specific purpose: "to bear away the guilt of the congregation." This is a staggering concept. By eating the flesh of the sacrificial animal, the priests were symbolically ingesting the sin of the people and processing it, as it were. They were acting as the sin-bearers for Israel, standing in the gap. This was not a privilege to be taken lightly; it was a weighty, substitutionary responsibility. It was a visible picture of what Christ, our great High Priest, would one day do perfectly and finally.
Third, Moses clarifies the rule. There were two kinds of sin offerings. If the blood of the animal was taken inside the Holy Place, the carcass was to be burned outside the camp. But if the blood was not taken inside, as was the case here, the priests were commanded to eat the flesh in the holy precinct. The command was clear, and they had broken it. From Moses' perspective, this is another instance of priestly failure on a day already defined by it. His anger is the anger of a faithful shepherd trying to protect a very wayward flock from a lion.
Aaron's Defense: The Heart of the Matter (v. 19)
Aaron, the high priest, the father who has just lost two sons, steps forward to answer for his remaining boys.
"But Aaron spoke to Moses, 'Behold, this very day they brought near their sin offering and their burnt offering before Yahweh. Then things like these happened to me. So if I had eaten a sin offering today, would it have been good in the sight of Yahweh?'" (Leviticus 10:19 LSB)
This is one of the most poignant speeches in all of Scripture. Aaron does not dispute the letter of the law. He does not make excuses. He simply lays out the facts of the day and asks a deeply theological question. He begins, "Behold, this very day..." He is anchoring his defense in the terrifying context of the moment. This was not a normal day at the office. This was the day his sons were executed by God for liturgical malpractice. This was the day he was commanded not to mourn. This was a day of profound trauma and grief.
He affirms their obedience in the larger matters: they did bring the sin offering and the burnt offering before Yahweh. They did not abandon their posts. They continued the work amidst their sorrow. But then he says, "things like these happened to me." He is not being evasive; he is stating the awful reality that has shattered his heart and defiled his house. His family, the priestly family, is under a cloud of judgment and grief.
And this leads to his central question. It is a question that goes beyond the mere mechanics of the ritual to the very heart of worship. "If I had eaten a sin offering today, would it have been good in the sight of Yahweh?" This is brilliant. Aaron understood something that Moses, in his righteous zeal, had momentarily overlooked. To eat the sin offering was to participate in a holy meal, a form of communion. It was to be done with a whole heart, in a state of ritual and spiritual fitness. But how could a man whose heart was shattered by grief, a man whose own sons had just been judged for their sin, eat this meal of atonement with the requisite holiness and joy? Would it not be a hypocrisy? Would it not be a profane act to go through the motions of "bearing guilt" in a celebratory meal while his own house was so deeply marked by guilt and death?
Aaron discerned that to obey the letter of the law in his current state would have violated the spirit of the law. He was, in a sense, unclean by his overwhelming grief and the proximity of death and judgment. To eat the holy food in that state would not have been "good in the sight of Yahweh." It would have been another act of presumption, another instance of offering something unacceptable to God. Aaron chose the path of humble restraint over rote obedience, fearing God more than the regulations about God.
Moses' Verdict: The Goodness of Godly Wisdom (v. 20)
The final verse gives us the resolution, and it is filled with grace.
"So Moses heard this, and it was good in his sight." (Leviticus 10:20 LSB)
Moses, the great lawgiver, the man zealous for every jot and tittle, hears Aaron's defense, and he accepts it. The Hebrew says it "was good in his eyes." Moses' anger subsides, and he concurs with Aaron's judgment. This is a remarkable moment. Moses shows that he is not a brittle legalist. He understands that the law is not a machine that operates independently of the people it governs. He sees the wisdom in Aaron's reasoning. He recognizes that true obedience flows from a heart that is rightly disposed toward God.
What made Aaron's reasoning "good"? It was good because it was saturated with the fear of the Lord. Aaron was not trying to get out of a duty. He was trying to avoid committing another sin. His decision was not rooted in convenience or personal preference, but in a holy dread of displeasing Yahweh again. He understood that God desires truth in the inward parts. He knew that a heart-less ritual is an abomination to the Lord.
This incident teaches us a crucial lesson about the application of God's law. The law is holy, just, and good. But it must be applied with wisdom, discernment, and a deep understanding of its ultimate purpose, which is to lead us to worship God acceptably. There are times when mercy triumphs over judgment, and when pastoral wisdom must temper procedural rigor. Aaron was not setting aside the law; he was interpreting it in light of a greater principle: that God cannot be honored by a profane heart, even if that heart is going through the proper external motions.
Conclusion: The Priest Who Is Always Pleasing
This raw and honest scene in the life of Israel's priesthood points us forward to a greater reality. Aaron, in his grief and frailty, could not perform his duties perfectly. He was a sinner, leading a sinful people, and the weight of it all, on this terrible day, was simply too much. He could not eat the sin offering. He could not fully bear the guilt of the congregation.
The entire Levitical system, with all its blood and smoke and regulations, was designed to show us two things: God's perfect holiness and our profound inability to meet its demands. The priesthood of Aaron was a temporary, typological institution, a placeholder until the true High Priest arrived.
We now have a High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is never overwhelmed by grief, never defiled by sin, and never unable to perform His duties. He is the one who did not just eat a symbolic meal; He became the sin offering. On the cross, He fully bore away the guilt of His people. He ingested all of it. He drank the cup of God's wrath down to the dregs. Unlike Aaron, He was never in a condition where His service would be displeasing to the Father. The Father's testimony over Him was always, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17).
Because of what happened to Aaron's sons, Aaron could not eat. But because of what happened to God's only Son, we are invited to eat. We are invited to the Lord's Table, not to bear our own guilt, but to feast on the one who bore it for us. We come, often with hearts broken by the "things that have happened to us," with our own griefs and failures. But we do not come in our own righteousness. We come because our High Priest has made perfect atonement, and His standing is always "good in the sight of Yahweh."
Therefore, let us learn from Aaron's fear and Moses' wisdom. Let us approach God with reverence and awe, for He is a consuming fire. But let us not draw back in terror. Let us draw near in faith, knowing that our Priest has opened the way, and His sacrifice is always, and eternally, good in the Father's sight.