The Leviticus Procession

I was never raised on a farm. In today's economy, not many of us are. Most of us are city-folk, and were never raised with goats. But in my past, I have dated women who were raised on a farm, and gotten to know their families.

For them, life was different. There was a built in cycle of life, of birthing, of reproduction, and of death. The constant reminder of this life, which us city people are not as privileged to be reminded of so continuously, has a tendency to remind them of the sacred nature of life. Their own lives, but also of the lives of the livestock for which they care.

So, I always read Leviticus as a bunch of animal sacrifice instructions. But, putting myself in the mindset of a person who raises livestock, I can see things a little differently. Making a sin offering by spilling the blood of one of your prized animals does a couple of things. It reminds you that sin and death are closely related. And it reminds you of the ever present nature of the divine as the life is spilling out in front of you. It's not a simply a savage act by cruel people. It's a heartbreaking act by people giving their most prized possessions to God. And not only is it heartbreaking, it is costly. Leviticus reminds us that if we cannot afford a goat, we bring as much as we can afford, even if it is just flour.

All these reminders are designed to keep our heads and our hearts focused on God, sin, life, and death. The act of taking a goat, almost a semi-pet by the time it is delivered, and cutting open its neck as an atonement for sin, or an offering of worship, is designed to keep us focused on the interplay of God in our daily lives. The sacrifice is not a ritual, it is a reminder of God's presence in our very short lives, and it is designed to keep our heads and our hearts focused on God.

Proceed forward a few hundred years...

I can't bring a goat all the way to Jerusalem with me, I will buy one there at the market outside the Temple. I can always get money from the money changers who have their booths in the Temple.

It's a festival. Clowns, street vendors, open air markets, animals of all kinds, and inside the Temple, the bankers... Why, there's even a butcher around so I don't have to kill the goat. All I have to do is bring a little money, give it up, and that is my sin offering. Or is it my burnt offering? Oh, I don't know, does it matter?

How different! How has something somber that was designed to bring us into the presence of God, the Holy process of spilling blood we have cared for and nurtured for months or years, to remind us that ALL is His, how has this changed into an emotionless ritual surrounded by revelry and detachment? We lost it! Somewhere along the way, God's intent was lost in the ritual. And not only lost, but capitalized on by the money changers. What started as Holiness has turned into commerce.

We are human. It's what we do. It is hard for the generations to hang onto the meaning of an event, the meaning that is our faith moment. It is easier for us to cling to the ceremony, even if the meaning is lost, as I perceive happened here. So, we need to depend on a constant renewal, and in the NT reading today, we see an example of the renewal. Jesus states:

"The Sabbath was made to benefit people, and not people to benefit the Sabbath."

God's laws were made to the betterment of people. Having us personally sacrifice an animal is designed to bring us closer to God. If you don't believe it, live on a farm for a while, and see how it feels to kill a livestock animal. See the rush of blood, and feel the grief, and see part of yourself in the act. It is an emotional, gut-wrenching experience, and our usual blinders in life are ripped off so we can experience life, and our spiritual place in it more clearly.

The laws are for our benefit, but when we start to service law, and forget God, we are only practicing ritual. Ritual is not our master. God is. Throwing money in a pot, knowing that somewhere down the line, an animal may or may not be sacrificed, is no longer the same thing as God intended for our spiritual benefit. Through Jesus' constant lessons of renewal, we can achieve a re-orientation of mind (even if our culture cannot revert to full goat herder status) to recall our place in God's Kingdom. God made the Sabbath for us, not the other way around. Human idolatry flips the picture by putting ceremony above faith.

The procession of humanity from Leviticus to Jesus' day is still happening now. How often do we take the best intentions of faith, and lose them in legalism? Only to worship the arguments, the sectarianism, and no longer, God...