Feast of Atonement: Curtain up on Act 2
Feasts of Israel Series: Part 22
In Act 1 of the Feast of Atonement drama, the high priest, as leading man, bathed and donned his special costume of white. The bullock for the sin-offering stood between the porch and the altar to have the sins of the high priest, his family, and the whole priesthood confessed over it.
As Act 2 opens, the two goats who appeared in Act 1 are still in the courtyard—one facing the sanctuary, the other facing the audience, waiting to be loaded with the sins of the people.
Atonement for Everything
The high priest has now been bathed and had his sins confessed. Thus at least partially sanctified, he’s qualified to touch the holy things and safely administer the next part of the ritual. There was much left to do. His job was not just to atone for the people, but to “make atonement for the Holy Sanctuary, and he shall make atonement for the tabernacle of meeting and for the altar” (Leviticus 16:32–33 NKJV).
We might wonder why inanimate objects need atonement. These objects may not have sinned, but let’s be real, the people who’d used them had. I’m guessing you’ve noticed that when we do wrong, we create a mess. Even after sincere apologies and much forgiveness, we’re often calling for a clean-up on aisle nine. Our homes, our workplaces, our relationships have all been soiled just through our interacting with them.
As hard as it is to deal with mistakes we know about, the hard truth is, we often do wrong, hurt others, stray from God, without even knowing we’ve done it. The Apostle Paul admitted that a clear conscience wasn’t necessarily enough. “For I know of nothing against myself, yet I am not justified by this; but He who judges me is the Lord” (1 Corinthians 4:4 NKJV).
Then there’s that old codger Job. He wasn’t above praying about unintentional sin just in case it might have been done. “So it was, when the days of feasting had run their course, that Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all. For Job said, ‘It may be that my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.’ Thus Job did regularly” (Job 1:4–5 NKJV).
In fact, the entire chapter of Leviticus 4 shows us just how concerned God is about sin we aren’t aware of. Whether it was the high priest who unintentionally sinned (4:3), the entire community (4:13), a leader (4:22) or an individual (4:27). He made a way for each to be cleansed as soon as they become aware of the transgression.
So, it isn’t surprising that the Feast of Atonement would concern not just sin, but all its foul effects.
Atonement Begins
Let’s hurry back to the sanctuary, though, where the curtain is rising on Act 2.
We rejoin the high priest where he’s standing over the sacrificial bull. Swiftly, cleanly, his knife does its work, and he captures the precious blood in a golden bowl as it drains. Handing the bowl to an attendant (whose job is to keep the blood from congealing by stirring it constantly), our leading man crosses to the altar. He scoops some of its burning coals into a golden plate-like censer, gathers some incense in his other hand, and steps into the holy place.
The lampstand flickers to his left, creating a subdued glow on the golden table of showbread to his right. The atmosphere is so silent within these walls, his own breath sounds loud. Embers burning on the altar of incense before him send a trickle of smoke upward, softly perfuming the room with its spices.
Stepping carefully, the high priest lifts the veil directly behind the altar of incense. The Holy of Holies is now open—the first and only day of the year for this solemn event. Without stepping inside this holiest of all places, the high priest stretches out his hand to lay the censer on the ark’s golden mercy seat. With his other hand, he tosses the incense onto the censer’s coals. (Leviticus 16:11–13)
A cloud of fragrance belonging to God alone suddenly engulfs the two rooms (Exodus 30:37–38) and the high priest immediately goes into prayer. He is careful not to linger long lest the audience worry he may never return.
Backing out of the sacred space, he returns to the attendant who is still stirring the blood. Taking the bowl of precious liquid from him, the high priest brings it into the holy place. He dips his fingers in the blood and sprinkles the ark with it seven times—up, down, and all around. Then he sets the bowl down before the veil and returns to the goats in the courtyard.
The one facing the sanctuary has been designated as the Lord’s (Leviticus 16:8). This one he slays, collecting its blood into another bowl which he brings back to the holy place. Once more, he dips his finger in the blood and sprinkles the ark with it seven times (Leviticus 16:15). The Holy of Holies is now cleansed and sanctified.
Dropping the veil across the opening for another year, the high priest picks up first the bull’s blood, then the goat’s, using his finger to spatter each seven times against the veil. Because the altar of incense was situated right before the veil, it was often considered part of the Holy of Holies. So, combining the blood of the bull and the goat into one bowl, the high priest next paints first its horns then its top with the mixture (Leviticus 16:18–19).
With that, the entire tabernacle is made clean.
As he leaves the sanctuary, the high priest pours whatever remains of the blood at the base of the brazen altar on the side by the door of the holy place—sanctifying it as well.
The Sanctuary Behind the Shadow
As interesting as this all may be, it was but a shadow of what it represented.
As we mentioned before, God was telling a story and each detail, each character in the ritual was chosen for a reason. This tale wasn’t just based on a true story, it was the true story itself. It starred not a high priest, but the Great High Priest—a Messiah who would play the part of both sacrifice and officiating priest.
The ninth chapter of the book of Hebrews makes a tremendous point of relating Israel’s earthly rituals to similar but more important activities going on in heaven. Once you’re done with this blog, I recommend you re-read that entire chapter.
Based on what we’ve learned so far, consider how Jesus reflected the work of the high priest during His days on earth. Temporarily laying aside His glory, he changed into sinless yet humble human flesh. His was the holy garment of spotless white linen for the only priest worthy of administering true atonement. As the Lamb of God, He stood before Jew and Gentile to be examined for purity. No accusation clung to Him except His claim as Son of God. Judged spotless three times by Pilate, He was sent to His death (Luke 23:4, 14, 22).
Hanging on the cross, the knife-edge of a lance pierced His side, releasing the precious blood of the sacrifice. Rising from the dead, He took up His own blood to the sanctuary in heaven. Isn’t it just possible that when the veil tore in the temple (Matthew 27:51), it was the exact moment the Great High Priest Jesus was pulling back the heavenly curtain to splash His blood on the holiest of all Mercy Seats?
Back on earth, the veil would be repaired and once more close off the Holy of Holies. In heaven, meanwhile, nothing would ever again cloak the access to the deepest place of intimacy with God. In relationship with the Great High Priest who opened that veil, we can always draw near to God.
(My immense thanks to Alfred Edersheim1 whose tremendous research in detailing these rituals helped me imagine what it may have been like for Israel in those days.)