Judging the Heart

Life has its embarrassing moments. The plane I was on yesterday landed at Hartford Field in Atlanta and immediately on touchdown one of the passengers had to go to the ladies room. While still taxing to the terminal she jumped out of her seat and ran down the aisle. A stern voice came over the loudspeaker announcing “Passengers please remain in your seats with seatbelts fastened until the plane comes to a complete stop at the terminal.”

“I’m sorry but I’ve got to go to the rest room,” she exclaimed loudly, continuing her progress toward the back of the plane.

Shortly the plane pulled off the main track and came to a stop on the tarmac followed by an announcement from the pilot, “Passengers please remain seated until one of our passengers returns to her seat.” The plane remained stopped until the red-faced lady returned to her seat whereupon the plane resumed progress toward the terminal.

It’s reminiscent of something that happened during the days of Moses, although it was far from embarrassing. It occurred when Aaron was High Priest following a particularly traumatic event in his life. His two sons, Nadab and Abihu had too much to drink one night and neglected their responsibilities. This was no minor responsibility. God had performed a miracle by supernaturally lighting a fire before the temple entrance instructing Moses to keep the fire going. It was never to go out. The two eldest sons of Aaron were charged with this responsibility.

It doesn’t take a lot of thought to understand the meaning of such a fire. You can probably remember a time in your life when God has personally intervened. It may have followed some devastating personal event and you were awed by the outcome. Maybe the event inspired you to change something in your life that needed to change. Such a fire should never be allowed to go out. When Israel came out of Egypt they had made a commitment to follow God, even though the path went through the Red Sea. So God placed a reminder at the entrance to the temple so Israel would always be reminded to keep the flame of faith burning.

But Nadab and Abihu were young and the enjoyment of the evening was too much. They let the fire go out. Israel’s reminder was gone.

Now that’s bad enough, but God would have forgiven them. But rather than face the penalty, these boys exacerbated the crime by offering what the Bible calls “strange fire” to rekindle the flame. It was like touching a bare 440 volt electrical wire. Both sons died instantly.

Maybe it helps to understand that every part of the temple service and even the temple itself was a replica of something that existed at the very throne of God in the 3^rd heaven. God used the ceremony to reveal to Israel what the throne of God was like. As a climax he sent his own fire to signify his presence. How could such a fire be replaced by something as common as a campfire?

This ceremony involved a celebratory meal over which Aaron, as High Priest, was to preside. No one invites people to come to a wedding dinner to mourn. Yet Aaron was in mourning. Two of his sons had just died. So in spite of the jubilant occasion over which Aaron had official duties, he was heartbroken.

Aaron performed his duties. One of the requirements of public service is that the duties to the nation supercede the vicissitudes of private life. Yet in private he could not eat all of the meal. Sometimes you just don’t have the appetite no matter how good the food. When Moses saw that all of the food was not consumed as commanded, he was angry with Aaron. So Aaron replied, “Today they sacrificed their sin offering and their burnt offering before the Lord, but such thing as this have happened to me. Would the Lord have been pleased if I had eaten the sin offering today?” (Lev. 10:19 NIV)

God seemed satisfied with the answer. He made human beings with passions and he frequently makes allowances for our behavior in respect for the heart he has placed in us.

Until next time,