The Grain is to be Mainly Eaten Plain

Leviticus 6: 14-23

So God briefly rehashes rules about the grain offering with a little more detail. The priest is to bring the offering to the altar. He takes a handful of flour and oil with all the incense and burns it. He can keep the rest- but when he eats it, he can't eat it with yeast- and he must eat it in a holy place: the courtyard of the tent of meeting. Any male decendant of Aaron can chow down on it. These instructions end with the following observation: "Whatever touches them will become holy."

They're like spiritual Midases. What does it mean for something to become holy? Does it mean that these priests never were able to cut loose? Everywhere they went, everything they did was sacred, somber, quiet and without shoes? Does it mean that they were always "on duty"? How long would it take for an Aaron spawn to burn out? I just want to chill out and do something mindless- but now I'm holding holy diet pepsi.

Or does it mean that our perceptions of "holy" or quite different from God's? Can my softball game be a holy experience? Can I read a novel and be moved in a way that makes the experience "holy" in some way? It seems like this declaration of "holy-making" is a little different than these less tangible experiences, but it's hard to wrap my mind around what it does mean.

It seems like Aaron's family, at least the men, are kind of like Israelite rock stars. They're the priests. Everyone needs them, they wear special clothing, they make everything holy, they are set apart. What's cool though, is that in the second half of this section, they too, are instructed to sacrifice. It seems like a one time thing, but on the day a priest is annointed, he brings a quart or so of fine flour in the morning and another quart in the evening. The next-in-line priest (son of the one being annointed) mixes it with oil and cooks it in a griddle. It's burned completely and none of it is to be eaten.

Even though this is a once in a lifetime thing, perhaps it serves to remind these priests, however special you may be...you're not God. You still answer to me. Don't get too big for your linen britches- I'm still in control.

And perhaps at times we need that same reminder. Whatever your status or position, no matter who answers to you, whatever amount of respect people have or don't have for you, despite your income, social standing or tenure, no matter what car you drive...you're not God. You don't call the shots, you don't make the rules.

And just like everyone else, He wants you to acknowledge and accept it...and obey.