Leviticus 16:11-14

The Priest, the Smoke, and the Blood Text: Leviticus 16:11-14

Introduction: The High Cost of Access

We live in an age that treats access to God as a casual affair. We approach Him as though He were a friendly neighbor, a celestial therapist, or a cosmic vending machine. We have forgotten that our God is a consuming fire. The book of Leviticus is a bucket of ice water thrown on this sentimental slop. It is a detailed, bloody, and glorious education in the grammar of holiness. And nowhere is this grammar more precise, more dangerous, and more freighted with gospel meaning than on the Day of Atonement.

This chapter, Leviticus 16, begins with a grim reminder. God speaks to Moses "after the death of the two sons of Aaron, when they offered profane fire before Yahweh and died" (Lev. 16:1). Nadab and Abihu thought they could waltz into God's presence on their own terms, with their own fire. They were incinerated for their trouble. Their error was not a small liturgical faux pas; it was a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of God. You do not approach infinite holiness with casual presumption. You do not come into the presence of the King of Kings without an appointment, and you certainly do not come without being summoned and without being clean.

The Day of Atonement was the one day of the year when one man, the high priest, could enter the Holy of Holies, the throne room of God on earth. But he could not just stroll in. Every step was prescribed. Every action was symbolic. Every detail was a matter of life and death. The entire ritual was an elaborate, acted-out parable, teaching Israel and teaching us one central truth: sin is a deadly pollutant that separates us from a holy God, and only a bloody, substitutionary sacrifice, offered by a consecrated mediator according to God's precise instructions, can cleanse that pollution and grant access to His presence.

In our text, we see Aaron, the high priest, beginning this solemn work. But notice the first order of business. Before he can represent the people, he must first deal with his own sin. This is where the whole system reveals its built-in inadequacy, its own expiration date. It was a magnificent picture, a glorious foreshadowing, but it was still just a picture. It was a promissory note for a payment that would one day be made in full.


The Text

Then Aaron shall bring near the bull of the sin offering, which is for himself, and make atonement for himself and for his household, and he shall slaughter the bull of the sin offering which is for himself.
And he shall take a firepan full of coals of fire from upon the altar before Yahweh and two handfuls of finely ground fragrant incense, and bring it inside the veil.
And he shall put the incense on the fire before Yahweh, that the cloud of incense may cover the mercy seat that is on the ark of the testimony, so that he will not die.
Moreover, he shall take some of the blood of the bull and sprinkle it with his finger on the mercy seat on the east side; also in front of the mercy seat he shall sprinkle some of the blood with his finger seven times.
(Leviticus 16:11-14 LSB)

The Tainted Mediator (v. 11)

We begin with the necessary, personal business of the priest.

"Then Aaron shall bring near the bull of the sin offering, which is for himself, and make atonement for himself and for his household, and he shall slaughter the bull of the sin offering which is for himself." (Leviticus 16:11)

Before Aaron can even think about atoning for the sins of the nation, he must confront the fact that he is a sinner himself. The mediator needs a mediator. The priest needs a priest. He brings a bull, the most valuable of the sacrificial animals, for his own sin. This is a public acknowledgement of his own defilement. The man who is about to enter the most holy place on earth is himself unholy. He is part of the problem he is trying to fix.

The author of Hebrews picks up on this very point to demonstrate the vast superiority of Christ's priesthood. "For such a High Priest was fitting for us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners... who does not need daily, as those high priests, to offer up sacrifices, first for His own sins and then for the people's" (Hebrews 7:26-27). Aaron's sacrifice for himself was a glaring signpost pointing to the inadequacy of the entire Levitical system. It was good for what it was, a shadow, but it could never finally solve the problem. It could cover sin for a year, but it could not remove it. It was a temporary solution, a stopgap measure, until the true, sinless High Priest arrived.

Christ did not need to offer a sacrifice for Himself because He was the sacrifice, spotless and without blemish. Aaron comes with the blood of a bull. Christ comes with His own blood. Aaron enters a man-made sanctuary. Christ enters the heavenly sanctuary itself. Aaron's work must be repeated every year. Christ's work was finished, once for all. This first verse is a magnificent demonstration of the need for a better priest and a better sacrifice.


The Fragrant Cloud of Intercession (v. 12-13)

Next, Aaron prepares to enter the inner sanctum, but he cannot go empty-handed. His life depends on what he brings with him.

"And he shall take a firepan full of coals of fire from upon the altar before Yahweh and two handfuls of finely ground fragrant incense, and bring it inside the veil. And he shall put the incense on the fire before Yahweh, that the cloud of incense may cover the mercy seat that is on the ark of the testimony, so that he will not die." (Leviticus 16:12-13 LSB)

This is high drama. Aaron takes coals from the bronze altar, the place of sacrifice, and fragrant incense. This incense is a picture of prayer, of intercession. In Revelation, we see an angel, who many believe represents Christ in His priestly office, standing at the altar with a golden censer, offering the incense with the prayers of the saints before God (Rev. 8:3-4). The prayers of God's people, to be acceptable, must be mixed with the fragrant intercession of our great High Priest. Our prayers, on their own, are tainted with sin, mixed motives, and unbelief. But when offered through Christ, they ascend to the Father as a pleasing aroma.

Aaron takes these coals and this incense inside the veil and places the incense on the hot coals. The result is a thick cloud of fragrant smoke. What is the purpose of this cloud? The text is explicit: "that the cloud of incense may cover the mercy seat... so that he will not die." The raw, unveiled, direct glory of God is lethal to sinful man. Even to a consecrated priest who has just offered a sacrifice for his own sins, a direct gaze upon the place of God's manifest presence, the mercy seat, would mean instant death. The cloud of incense acts as a shield, a protective screen. It veils the glory so that the priest can survive the encounter.

This is a stunning picture of the work of Christ. He is our shield. His perfect life and substitutionary death are the fragrant cloud of intercession that stands between us and the consuming fire of God's holiness. It is only through Him, veiled by His righteousness, that we can approach the throne of God and not be destroyed. We come boldly to the throne of grace, but we do not come flippantly. We come clothed in Christ, enveloped in the smoke of His acceptable offering.


Blood on the Throne of Grace (v. 14)

Having entered behind the veil, shielded by the cloud of incense, the central act of atonement takes place.

"Moreover, he shall take some of the blood of the bull and sprinkle it with his finger on the mercy seat on the east side; also in front of the mercy seat he shall sprinkle some of the blood with his finger seven times." (Leviticus 16:14 LSB)

Here we are at the very heart of the matter. Aaron takes the blood of the bull, his own sin offering, and he sprinkles it on the mercy seat. What is the mercy seat? It is the solid gold lid of the Ark of the Testimony. And what is inside the Ark of the Testimony? The tablets of the Law, the Ten Commandments. The Law is God's perfect, holy, righteous standard. It is the testimony of His character. And we have all violated it. The Law cries out for justice. It demands condemnation. The Ark, containing the Law, is a throne of judgment.

But the lid on that throne is the mercy seat, the kapporet, the place of propitiation. And on this Day of Atonement, blood is applied to it. The blood of the substitute is placed directly over the Law that condemns. The blood does not abolish the law; it satisfies it. It answers the law's righteous demands. The life of the substitute is offered, and God, seeing the blood, extends mercy instead of wrath. The throne of judgment becomes a throne of grace because of the blood.

Notice the precision. He sprinkles it once "on" the mercy seat, and then seven times "in front of" the mercy seat. The number seven in Scripture is the number of perfection, of completion. This is a perfect and complete cleansing. The blood not only satisfies the demands of the Law on the throne, but it also cleanses the very ground before the throne. It makes a way for a man to stand in the presence of God.

This entire ritual is a magnificent portrait of what Christ would accomplish perfectly. He is our mercy seat (Romans 3:25). He is the propitiation for our sins. His blood was sprinkled, not on a golden lid in an earthly tent, but on the heavenly mercy seat itself. He presented His own blood in the true Holy of Holies, before the Father, and secured for us an eternal redemption. The Law still testifies against us, but the blood of Christ testifies louder. It speaks a better word than the blood of Abel, which cried out for vengeance. The blood of Christ cries out for mercy, for pardon, for peace.


Conclusion: Our Access

Why do we study these ancient, bloody rituals? We do so because they are not ancient history to us. They are our story. They are the gospel in picture form. Every detail is designed to teach us the gravity of our sin and the glory of our Savior.

Aaron had to offer a bull for himself, reminding us that we needed a sinless Priest, and we have one in Jesus. Aaron had to be shielded by a cloud of incense lest he die, reminding us that we can only approach God through the fragrant intercession of Christ, who is our shield and protector.

Aaron had to sprinkle the blood of a bull on the mercy seat to satisfy the Law, reminding us that Christ shed His own precious blood, applying it to the demands of God's justice on our behalf, transforming the throne of judgment into a throne of grace.

Because of this, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom when Christ died. The way into the Holiest of all has been thrown open. Not for one man, one day a year, but for all of God's people, every day of the year. We do not need to fear the consuming fire, because our High Priest has gone before us. He has offered the perfect sacrifice, He has filled the room with the fragrance of His own righteousness, and He has sprinkled His own blood on the mercy seat. Therefore, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.