A Sacrifice Story

Think of this...I announce to my family I'm going to temple and I go through the herd and select the prize bull. It's obvious to them now that I have sinned, in a big way, and my restoration to God is going to cost the entire family and perhaps even the next generation. I don't have to do this. The burnt offering is a voluntary offering. So I need to convince the family that my sin has caused a great enough separation between myself and God that the cost to the family is warranted and necessary.

I then must travel a great distance with the animal. Each time I look at it I'm reminded of my sin and the cost. I travel to the temple area. I know that my sacrifice is going to get me as close to God as possible. I place my hands on the head of the bull and look into his large eyes. I see in those eyes innocence. The bull has done nothing wrong. The bull has great potential for the future security of my family. As I place my hands on his head I remember my sin and the guilt flows from my consciousness through my hands onto the head of this animal.

Now I must do the unthinkable. This beautiful, valuable animal must be killed by my own hand. I can't give the knife to someone else. I can't ignore the cost of my sin. I must slit its throat and the blood of the animal rushes over my trembling hands. I hear the pain as the knife plunges. I see the look of confusion in his eyes. I watch as he falls to the ground and the blood flows from the fatal wound. Death is not instantaneous and I am gripped by what my sin has caused as I watch the animal gasp for it's final breath.

I want to run away. I want to hide in shame. My guilt is consuming me now. But my task is not yet done. I must now utterly destroy this animal. Death is not enough. Destruction follows. I must skin and cut this animal up. It will take a long time and the iron rich smell of the animal's blood is invading my nostrils. I feel my stomach lurch.

I've sacrificed animals before. I've fed my family by slaughtering. But this is different. This animal isn't dying to feed my family. Instead it is costing me and my family a great deal. The flesh that I am cutting through will be entirely consumed by fire instead of being consumed for food. The process of cutting up this animal is excruciating.

Finally, I give the slain and devoured animal to the priest and it is arranged on the altar. My hands are bloody and I'm reminded of my sin and it's cost once again. As the sacrifice begins to burn I glance over at the Tent of Meeting. I know that behind those curtains, God is there. My heart begins to cry out to him as I remember my sin. I pray fervently with the priest and the fire begins to devour my sin. The iron, raw smell is replaced with the aroma of burning flesh and somehow it smells good. The smoke curls into the air and hovers over the Tent of Meeting. I know that God is smelling the aroma of my sacrifice. I know that it is pleasing to the LORD. I know that my sacrifice is pleasing to the LORD. I know that I am pleasing to the LORD.

I am restored.