The Priest: Aaron (17 page)

On the eighth day, Moses summoned Aaron, his sons, and the elders of Israel. Moses gave them the instructions of the Lord.

Aaron took a bull calf without defect and offered it as sacrifice to atone for his sins. He knew every time he did this, he would remember how he had sinned against the Lord by making a calf idol. Would his sons remember? Would their sons after them? Did the blood of this living calf really ransom him from the sin of making an idol?

More sacrifices followed. When he had made atonement for himself, he would be ready to stand and make the sin offering, burnt offering, and fellowship offerings for the people. The ox fought against the rope, kicking Aaron. He thought he would pass out from the pain, but kept his feet. His sons held the animal more firmly as Aaron used the knife. Next he killed the ram. The sight and smell of blood and the sound of the dying animals filled him with loathing for the sins that brought death. And he thanked God that the Lord allowed these poor beasts to substitute for each man, woman, and child. For all sinned. None could stand before the Lord with a pure heart.

Aaron’s hands were covered with blood, and the corners and sides of the altar dripped with it. Arms aching, he lifted the breasts and right thigh of the sacrifices before the Lord as a wave offering. When all the sacrifices were made, Aaron lifted hands shaking with exhaustion toward the people and blessed them. Then he stepped down.

Moses went with him into the Tabernacle. Aaron’s heart thundered in his ears. His stomach clenched. He was thankful for the heavy curtain that hid the Lord from his sight, for he knew he would die if he ever saw God. If he washed himself in the blood of calves and lambs, it still wouldn’t wash all the sin away. He prayed for himself. He prayed for the people. And then he went outside with Moses and blessed the people.

The air around them changed. He held his breath at the movement—silent, powerful. The glorious presence of the Lord appeared for all to see. He gasped and the people cried out in awe when fire blazed forth from the Lord’s presence and consumed the burnt offering and the fat on the altar.

As sinful as he was, as sinful as these people were who stood trembling in fear, the Lord had accepted their offerings!

Aaron shouted joyfully, tears of relief streaming down his cheeks as he fell facedown before the Lord.

And the people followed his example.

Aaron’s service fell into a routine. Every day, offerings were given at dawn and dusk. The burnt offering remained on the altar hearth throughout the night till morning. Aaron wore his fine linen clothes when performing sacrifices, but changed into others when carrying the ashes of the offerings outside camp. The Lord had said, “The fire must never go out.” And Aaron saw to it that it did not.

Still he worried about it. He dreamed about fire and blood. Even when he was clean, Aaron could smell smoke and blood. He dreamed of people screaming like animals because he had failed to perform his duties properly and appease the Lord’s wrath. Even more disturbing, he knew people went on sinning. Hundreds waited in line to take grievances to the elders, and Moses was always busy with one case or another. The people could not seem to live at peace with one another. It was in their nature to argue, contend, and fight anything that curtailed them in any way. They did not dare question God, but they questioned His representatives without end. They were no different from Adam and Eve, wanting what was denied them, no matter what harm would come in the having.

Aaron tried to encourage his sons. “We must be living examples of righteousness before the people.”

“No one is more righteous than you are, Father.”

Aaron fought the pleasure of Nadab’s flattery, knowing how quickly pride destroyed men. Hadn’t it destroyed Pharaoh and Egypt with him? “Moses is more righteous. And no one is more humble.”

Abihu bristled. “Moses is always in the Tent of Meeting, and where are you? Out there serving the people.”

“It seems to me we have the heavier workload.” Nadab leaned back on a cushion. “When was the last time you saw one of our cousins lift a finger to help?”

Eleazar looked up from a scroll. “Eliezer and Gershom are tending their mother.” He spoke quietly, frowning.

Nadab sneered, pouring himself more wine. “Woman’s work.”

Miriam stood over them. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?”

Nadab glanced at her before holding out his goblet. Abihu refilled it before hanging the wineskin on its hook.

Aaron did not like the tension in their tent. “We are each called to be where we are called to be. Moses is the one who hears the voice of the Lord and brings us God’s instructions. We carry them out. We have been given a great honor by the Lord to serve—”

“Yes, yes.” Nadab nodded. “We know all that, Father. But it is boring to do the same thing day in and day out, knowing we will be doing it for the rest of our lives.”

Aaron felt a wave of heat come up inside him and then sink into a cold lump in his stomach. “Remember whom you serve.” He looked from Nadab to Abihu and then to his two younger sons, who sat silent, heads down. Did they feel as their brothers did? Aaron felt an urgency to warn them. “You will do exactly as the Lord commands. Do you understand?”

Nadab’s eyes changed. “We understand you, Father.” His fingers tightened on his wine goblet. “We will honor the Lord in everything we do. Just as you always have.” He finished his wine and rose. Abihu followed his brother from the tent.

“You shouldn’t let them talk to you that way, Aaron.”

Irritated, he glared at Miriam. “What do you suggest?”

“Take them by the ear! Give them a whipping! Do something! They both think they’re more righteous than you!”

He could think of a dozen men who were more righteous than he was, starting with his brother and his assistant, Joshua. “They will come to their senses when they think about it.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Let it be, woman! I have enough on my mind without your constant nagging!”

“Nagging? As if I haven’t always had your best interest in mind!” Miriam yanked the curtain aside to the women’s chamber. She pulled the curtain down behind her.

The silence was anything but peaceful. Aaron rose. “We have work to do.” He was thankful it was time to return to the Tabernacle. He had no peace in his own tent.

Eleazar sat up. “We’ll be along shortly, Father.” He reached out a hand to help Ithamar.

Aaron let Eleazar and Ithamar precede him. “See that you are.” He snapped the tent flap down behind him.

Eleazar walked beside Aaron. “You’re going to have to do something about them, Father.”

“Is it your place to speak against your brothers?”

“It’s for their sake I speak.”

As Aaron performed his duties, Eleazar and Ithamar worked with him. Disturbed, Aaron thought about what Eleazar had said. Where were Nadab and Abihu? Aaron could not understand his elder sons. There was nowhere Aaron wanted to be so much as in the courtyard of the Lord. To stand in God’s presence was Moses’ calling, but to be this close to the Lord filled Aaron with joy. Why could his elder sons not feel the same way?

Laughter startled Aaron. Who dared laugh inside the courtyard of God? Turning, he saw Nadab and Abihu at the entrance. Dressed in their priestly garments, they held censers in their hands. What did they think they were doing? Aaron started toward them, ready to take them to task when Nadab took a small bag from his sash. He sprinkled dust over the burning coals. Yellow, blue, and red smoke rose, the same kind that Egyptian priests had used in their pagan temples.

“No!”
Aaron cried out.

“Relax, Father. We are only paying homage to our God.” Abihu held his censer out and Nadab sprinkled particles into the coals.

“Would you desecrate God’s holy—”

“Desecrate?” Nadab stood defiant. “Are we not priests? We can show honor to God as we want!” He and Abihu stepped forward.

“Stop!”

A stream of fire shot past Aaron and struck his two elder sons in the chest. The force knocked Aaron and his two younger sons off their feet. Aaron heard Nadab and Abihu screaming and clambered to his feet. The shrieks of their unbearable agony lasted only seconds before they were consumed by flames. They had fallen where they stood in defiance, burned beyond recognition.

With a cry, Aaron’s hands went to his robe. A heavy hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back. “No.” Moses spoke heavily. “Do not mourn by letting your hair hang loose or by tearing your clothes. If you do, you will die, and the Lord will be angry with the whole community of Israel.”

Lungs aching, Aaron swayed.

Moses gripped his arm, steadying him. “Aaron, listen to me. The rest of the Israelites, your relatives, may mourn for Nadab and Abihu, whom the Lord has destroyed by fire. But you are not to leave the entrance of the Tabernacle, under penalty of death, for the anointing oil of the Lord is upon you.”

Aaron remembered the law: No priest was to touch a dead body.

“This is what the Lord meant when He said, ‘I will show Myself holy among those who are near Me. I will be glorified before all the people.’”

Aaron fought back tears, fought down the anguished cry that threatened to choke him.
The Lord is holy. The Lord is holy!
He fixed his mind on the Lord’s holiness, bending to it. Eleazar and Ithamar lay prostrate before the Tabernacle, faces in the dust, worshiping the Lord.

Moses summoned Aaron’s cousins Mishael and Elzaphan. “Come and carry the bodies of your relatives away from the sanctuary to a place outside the camp.”

Aaron watched them lift the charred bodies of his two elder sons and carry them away from the front of the Tabernacle. He faced the Tabernacle and didn’t look back. His chest ached, his throat burned. Would Nadab and Abihu be cast into the refuse for their sin?

The Voice spoke, still and quiet.

You and your descendants must never drink wine or any other alcoholic drink before going into the Tabernacle.

“Aaron.” Moses was speaking to him, and Aaron tried to absorb his instructions. “Aaron.” Aaron and his younger sons were to remain where they were and complete their duties. They were to eat the leftovers from the offerings of grain and the goat of the sin offering. Aaron did all Moses instructed, but neither he nor his two sons could eat. The smell of burning meat made Aaron’s gorge rise, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from vomiting.

Moses’ face was red with anger. “Why didn’t you eat the sin offering in the sanctuary area?” he demanded. “It is a holy offering! It was given to you for removing the guilt of the community and for making atonement for the people before the Lord. Since the animal’s blood was not taken into the Holy Place, you should have eaten the meat in the sanctuary area as I ordered you.”

Aaron groaned. “Today my sons presented both their sin offering and their burnt offering to the Lord.” He swallowed convulsively. “This kind of thing has also happened to me.” He fought his rising emotions, trembling under the strain. “Would the Lord have approved if I had eaten the sin offering today?” When sin lurked so close at hand, waiting to prey on his shattered family and sink its teeth into his weakened heart?
My sons,
he wanted to cry out.
My sons! Have you forgotten my sons died today?
He would have choked on the meat of the sin offering and defiled the sanctuary.

Nadab’s words had come back over and over to haunt him all day:
“We will honor the Lord in our own way, Father. Just as you have.”

With a golden calf and a feast day of pagan celebration.

Even after the atoning sacrifices, Aaron still felt his sins heavy upon him
. If only the Lord would erase them forever. If only
 . . .

Moses looked on Aaron with compassion and said no more.

Aaron was with Moses when Moses invited Hobab, Jethro’s son, to go with them to the Promised Land. “Stay with us, Hobab. Make your life with God’s chosen people, Israel.”

When Hobab left the camp, Aaron had a sick feeling in his stomach that they would meet Hobab again, under less than friendly circumstances. All the while the Midianite remained camped close by, Aaron had wondered if Hobab was merely watching for their weaknesses and how to make use of them.