Look to the Lamb and Live
What if the very place your heart longs for is also the place your sin forbids you from entering? That’s the problem the Bible confronts from beginning to end. And nowhere is that problem more clearly dealt with than on Good Friday. We remember how a holy God made a way for sinful people to dwell in His presence. God burns with a red-hot holiness. He is without sin and fully righteous. We, however, are the opposite: we are filled with sin and without righteousness. Paul affirms this in Romans 3 when he says that “no one is righteous” (v10) and “all have sinned” (v23). So, if we are dead in sin and without righteousness and God is without sin and perfectly righteous, how on Earth can we enter into the tent of meeting, where He dwells? There’s tension there because we long to be with God, but our sin gets in the way. Our sin separates us from a holy God. That is the purpose of Leviticus; to show how unholy people can dwell with a holy God.
For eight chapters, God speaks to Moses, giving detailed instructions about sacrifices—when they should be offered, how they should be offered, and who is allowed to offer them. These commands aren’t random or confusing; they’re intentional. God is showing His people that His holiness is not something to take lightly, and our sin is not something to ignore. Sin brings death—and only life can pay for death. Leviticus 17:11 (CSB) says, “For the life of a creature is in the blood, and I have appointed it to you to make atonement on the altar for your lives, since it is the lifeblood that makes atonement.” The Israelites understood that blood was sacred because it carried life. And it’s in the shedding of that lifeblood—through the substitute—that atonement is made for sin.
Moses said in Leviticus 9, “This is what the Lord commanded you to do, that the glory of the Lord may appear to you.” Then Moses said to Aaron, “Approach the altar and sacrifice your sin offering and your burnt offering; make atonement for yourself and the people. Sacrifice the people’s offering and make atonement for them, as the Lord commanded” (Leviticus 9:6-7). Did you catch that? Aaron had to offer two sacrifices—one for himself and one for the people. Why does that matter? Because Aaron is a shadow of the one to come. He had to make atonement for himself first, because he was a sinner—ritually impure and morally blemished. You see, Aaron was a good priest, but he wasn’t a perfect one. That’s why the book of Hebrews calls Jesus our “great high priest,” who doesn’t need to offer sacrifices for His own sin. He had none. Do you see the difference?
This all took place in the tabernacle, which was less like a church and more like a butcher shop—blood spilled daily, entrails washed, meat grilled over the fire. Why? What was all of this for? One reason was obedience. God had given clear instructions, and they were to be followed. Another reason was a constant, visible reminder of the weight of their sin. Third, it provided temporary atonement—a momentary covering for their transgressions. But even then, it wasn’t enough. The blood of animals could only go so far. Hebrews 10:4 makes it plain: “It is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins.”
But if the blood of bulls and goats isn’t enough… then where do we turn? If the altar in the tabernacle wasn’t the final answer, what is? That’s where Hebrews takes us. To a better sacrifice. To a better priest. To a better Lamb. Hebrews 10:11-12 says, “Every priest stands day after day ministering and offering the same sacrifices time after time, which can never take away sins. But this man, after offering one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down at the right hand of God.” Who is this man? Who offers one sacrifice for sins forever? Who accomplished what generations of priests never could? Who did what millions of lambs could never do? John the Baptist points us to him when he cries out, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” But wait—didn’t Hebrews say it’s impossible for sacrifices to take away sins? That’s right. It’s impossible for “the blood of bulls and goats” to do it. But this Lamb is different. We don’t place our hope in bulls or goats. We place our hope in the Lamb of God.
Our hope is that Christ did what we could never do. He lived in innocence—sinless and without blemish. He died in substitution—in our place and for our sins. And he rose in victory—fully and finally paying our debt, pardoning our sin, and providing us life. As John Stott once wrote, “The concept of substitution lies at the heart of both sin and salvation. For the essence of sin is man substituting himself for God, while the essence of salvation is God substituting himself for man.” That’s what happened on the cross. Jesus stood in our place, taking what we deserved, to give us what he earned.
The Apostle Paul writes in Romans 3, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. God presented [Christ] as the mercy seat by his blood, through faith, to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his restraint God passed over the sins previously committed. God presented him to demonstrate his righteousness at the present time, so that he would be just and justify the one who has faith in Jesus” (Romans 3:21-26). Though all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory, God has made a way for sinners to be made right—not through repeated sacrifices, but through the once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus. God presented Christ as the mercy seat—our atoning sacrifice—through his blood. In doing so, God proved both His justice (He doesn’t ignore sin) and His mercy (He forgives sinners). Jesus is the fulfillment of everything the tabernacle pointed to—the blood, the altar, the veil, the mercy seat—all of it finds its meaning in Christ. He is the true and better Aaron—the perfect priest. He is the true and better sacrifice—the spotless Lamb. At the same time, He is both the Offering and the Offerer. The just and the justifier. And it is on the cross where the lifeblood of the Lamb was poured out, and where our Great High Priest took that blood—not into a tabernacle made by hands, but into the presence of God Himself—to fully and finally atone for our sins.
Your sin isn’t a pebble in your boot; it’s not an empty tank of gas; it’s not even a hole in the boat. Your sin is the casket you’re buried in. If you are not a Christian, you are dead in your sins and separated from the very source of life itself. But you are not without hope. This is a good Friday because it was on this Friday 2,000 years ago when the Lamb of God died to take away the sins of the world. If you’re a Christian, then today is another day to look to Christ.
Look to the Lamb and live.