Commentary - Leviticus 16:15-19

Bird's-eye view

This section of Leviticus 16 brings us into the very heart of the Day of Atonement, the most solemn day in Israel's liturgical calendar. The high priest, having already made atonement for himself and his house, now acts on behalf of the entire nation. This is not just another sacrifice; it is the central pivot upon which the covenant relationship between Yahweh and His people is annually reset. The passage details the application of the blood of the sin offering for the people, taking it behind the veil into the Holy of Holies. This is a graphic, bloody, and profoundly serious business. The core theme is the absolute necessity of blood atonement to deal with the pervasive pollution of sin. Sin is not a mere mistake; it is a defilement that contaminates not only the people but the very sanctuary of God that dwells among them. The actions prescribed here are a direct confrontation with the filth of human rebellion, demonstrating that access to a holy God is only possible through a substitutionary death, a truth that finds its ultimate, final, and perfect expression in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

What we are witnessing is a profound typological drama. Every action of the high priest, every drop of blood, is a pointer, a shadow, a whisper of the greater reality to come. The separation, the blood inside the veil, the cleansing of the holy place and the altar, all of it serves to magnify the holiness of God and the gravity of sin. It is a ritual designed to teach Israel, and us, that God does not grade on a curve. His holiness is absolute, and the uncleanness of His people is a real barrier that requires a real, bloody solution. This passage, therefore, is a magnificent backdrop for the book of Hebrews, which explains how Christ, our great High Priest, fulfilled this very ritual, not with the blood of goats, but with His own precious blood, once for all.

Outline

Context In Leviticus

Leviticus 16 is the structural and theological center of the entire book. The preceding chapters (1-15) have meticulously laid out the sacrificial system and the laws of purity and impurity, establishing the profound separation between a holy God and an unclean people. The problem Leviticus has been building is this: how can a holy God dwell in the midst of a sinful people without consuming them? Chapter 16 provides the answer: the Day of Atonement, or Yom Kippur. This is the one day of the year when the high priest enters the Holy of Holies to make atonement for the accumulated sins and uncleanness of the entire nation. This chapter follows the narrative of Nadab and Abihu's death for offering strange fire (Ch. 10), a stark reminder of the danger of approaching God improperly. The Day of Atonement is the gracious provision God makes for a right approach, a way to cleanse the sanctuary itself from the defilement caused by the people's sin, thus allowing His presence to remain with them. The chapters that follow (17-27) detail the practical holiness required of the people in their daily lives, a holiness made possible by the atonement secured in this central chapter.

Key Issues

Blood at the Center

We moderns, particularly in the West, are squeamish about blood. We have sanitized our world, and the raw, visceral reality of a sacrifice is foreign to us. But the Bible is not squeamish at all. The central message of this chapter, and indeed of the entire sacrificial system, is that "without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness" (Heb. 9:22). The life of the creature is in the blood (Lev. 17:11), and that life is given upon the altar as a substitute. Sin brings death. That is the non-negotiable wage. Therefore, for the sinner to live, a death must occur. The blood splashed and sprinkled throughout this ritual is the visible evidence of that death. It is God's graphic object lesson. It is not a magical substance, but it represents a life poured out, a penalty paid. When the high priest carries that blood into the presence of God, he is not bringing an excuse or a promise to do better. He is bringing proof of a death. He is showing that the demands of justice have been met. This is why the New Testament makes so much of the blood of Christ. It is not sentimental imagery; it is the currency of our redemption, the very proof of the payment that purchased our forgiveness.

Verse by Verse Commentary

15 “Then he shall slaughter the goat of the sin offering which is for the people and bring its blood inside the veil and do with its blood as he did with the blood of the bull. And he shall sprinkle it on the mercy seat and in front of the mercy seat.

The first sacrifice, the bull, was for Aaron and his house. Now comes the sacrifice for the people. The goat is killed, and its lifeblood is collected. The crucial action is to bring this blood inside the veil. This is the boundary between the holy place and the Most Holy Place, the symbolic barrier between man and God. To step behind that curtain was to enter the immediate presence of Yahweh, enthroned above the cherubim on the ark of the covenant. No one but the high priest could do this, and he only on this one day, and never without blood. The blood is then sprinkled on the mercy seat and before it. The mercy seat, or atonement cover, was the solid gold lid of the Ark. It was the place where God's presence met with man. To sprinkle blood there was to apply the evidence of a substitutionary death directly to the throne of God. It was a plea for mercy, grounded not in the people's goodness, but in God's provision of a substitute. This act is the absolute heart of the Old Covenant, and it is a direct pointer to Christ, our high priest, who entered the true heavenly sanctuary, not with goat's blood, but with His own (Heb. 9:12).

16 So he shall make atonement for the holy place because of the uncleanness of the sons of Israel and because of their transgressions in regard to all their sins; and thus he shall do for the tent of meeting which abides with them in the midst of their uncleanness.

This verse is stunning, and it reveals something profound about the nature of sin. The atonement is not just for the people, but for the holy place itself. Why would the tabernacle need atonement? Because it was pitched right in the middle of a camp of sinners. Their sin, their uncleanness, their transgressions, all of it created a sort of spiritual pollution that contaminated everything, even the dwelling place of God. Think of it as spiritual radiation. The presence of sin defiles. God's tabernacle was abiding with them in the midst of their uncleanness. For God's holy presence to remain among them without destroying them, the sanctuary itself had to be ritually purged and decontaminated once a year. This shows us that our sin is not a private affair. It has consequences that radiate outward, affecting our environment, our communities, and our places of worship. The blood purges this contamination, making continued fellowship between a holy God and an unholy people possible.

17 Now when he goes in to make atonement in the holy place, no one shall be in the tent of meeting until he comes out, that he may make atonement for himself and for his household and for all the assembly of Israel.

The work of the high priest on this day is a solitary work. When he enters the holy place to perform this ultimate act of mediation, he must be absolutely alone. No one shall be in the tent of meeting. This emphasizes two things. First, the awesome and perilous nature of approaching God. This is not a committee meeting. It is one man, representing the entire nation, standing before the throne of the universe. Second, it teaches that no one can assist in the work of atonement. The people cannot help, the other priests cannot help. Salvation is not a group project. The mediator does the work alone. This is a powerful type of Christ, who accomplished our salvation by Himself. On the cross, He was abandoned. In the garden, His disciples slept. "He has trodden the winepress alone, and from the peoples there was no man with Him" (Isaiah 63:3). The atonement He made was His and His alone.

18 Then he shall go out to the altar that is before Yahweh and make atonement for it. And he shall take some of the blood of the bull and of the blood of the goat, and put it on the horns of the altar on all sides.

Having cleansed the Holy of Holies, the priest moves outward. He comes out to the altar of burnt offering, the large bronze altar in the courtyard. This was the place where all the sacrifices were offered, the very center of Israel's worship life. And this too needs atonement. Using the mixed blood of both the bull (for the priesthood) and the goat (for the people), he smears it on the horns of the altar. The horns were the highest points of the altar, symbolizing its power and efficacy. To apply blood here was to cleanse the very instrument of their worship. Even their best religious activities, their sacrifices and offerings, were tainted by the sin of the people offering them and the priests officiating. The very place where atonement was normally made needed to have atonement made for it. This is a radical statement about the depth of our corruption. Even our worship needs to be washed in the blood.

19 With his finger he shall sprinkle some of the blood on it seven times and cleanse it and set it apart as holy from the uncleanness of the sons of Israel.

The cleansing is completed with a seven-fold sprinkling of blood. The number seven in Scripture consistently signifies perfection or completeness. This is a thorough, complete, and perfect cleansing. The purpose is twofold: to cleanse it and set it apart as holy. The blood both removes the negative (the defilement of uncleanness) and imparts the positive (the status of holiness, or consecration). The altar is effectively reset for another year of service. It is purged from all the accumulated spiritual filth of Israel so that it can once again be the place where they bring their offerings to a holy God. This annual purging was a constant reminder that the solution offered by the Levitical system was temporary. The blood of bulls and goats could cleanse the sanctuary, but it could never truly cleanse the conscience (Heb. 9:9). It had to be done again, year after year, a shadow pointing to the one, final, perfect sacrifice that would cleanse not just a tent, but the hearts of men.

Application

This passage, with all its blood and ritual, can feel distant. But it is pressing in on us with urgent truth. First, it teaches us to take sin seriously. Our culture treats sin as a therapeutic problem, a mistake, or an alternative lifestyle. God treats it as a lethal contamination, a defilement so profound it pollutes everything it touches, even the place of worship. We must recover this biblical hatred for sin, seeing it not just as a breach of rules, but as an offense against the searing holiness of God.

Second, it shows us the utter necessity of a mediator. Aaron went in alone because the people could not go in. We cannot approach God on our own terms. We need a high priest, a representative. And we have one, Jesus Christ the righteous. He did not enter a man-made tent, but heaven itself, and He did not offer the blood of an animal, but His own. His work was not temporary, needing to be repeated, but was finished, once for all. The veil of the temple was torn in two when He died, signifying that the way into the true Holy of Holies is now open for all who come to Him in faith.

Finally, this passage teaches us that even our worship needs cleansing. The altar itself had to be purged. We come to church, we sing our songs, we pray our prayers, but we bring our sin with us. Our motives are mixed, our attention wanders, our pride infects everything. Our only hope is that our faltering worship is made acceptable to God through the mediation of our High Priest. We offer our sacrifices on an altar that has been cleansed by His blood, and we ourselves are a priesthood that has been washed in that same blood. Therefore, we can come with confidence, not because our worship is perfect, but because our Priest is.