Cleansing Your Conscience

Hebrews 9:1-14

One of the side effects of having horses on your property is the amount of manure they produce. For years now, that’s what we’ve produced on This n’ That farm in Williamsburg. Manure. Most of it in combined with the wood shavings we use to bed the horse stalls.

There is also a part of our property that is nothing but sand. Like beach sand. And then it kind of transitions to soily sand. But not really ever soil. So a few years ago, as a new way of managing the manure our horses we produce, I started spreading it out over that sandy half acre. Slowly, day after day, week after week, month after month, I’ve spread layer upon layer of manure on that sand. Here’s the thing – Becky and I will probably never really see the full impact of all of that work. We’re doing a favor for whoever buys our property when we die, or get too old to take care of it. Improving soil quality that way takes time. Lots of time.

Did you know that Jesus actually told a parable about manure? In his book Tell It Slant, author Eugene Peterson mentions a short parable in Luke (it’s found in Luke 13, if you want to look it up later) – a parable about manure, of all things. In the parable, a man has a fig tree in his vineyard that doesn’t yield any fruit. Frustrated, he says to the man who takes care of the vineyard that after three years, it’s time to cut the thing down. But the caretaker replies, “Leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.” Peterson reflects on how this parable challenges us as followers of Jesus. He says:

Instead of goading us into action, [Jesus’ Manure Story] takes us out of action. We have just come across something that offends us, some person who is useless to us or the kingdom of God, “taking up the ground,” and we lose patience and either physically or verbally get rid of him or her. “Chop him down! Chop her down! Chop it down.” We solve kingdom problems by amputation.

Internationally and historically, killing is the predominant method of choice to make the world a better place. It is the easiest, quickest, and most efficient way by far to clear the ground for someone or something with more promise. The Manure Story interrupts our noisy, aggressive problem-solving mission. In a quiet voice the parable says, “Hold on, not so fast. Wait a minute. Give me some more time. Let me put some manure on this tree.” Manure?

Manure is not a quick fix. It has no immediate results – it is going to take a long time to see if it makes any difference. If it’s results that we are after, chopping down a tree is just the thing: we clear the ground and make it ready for a fresh start. We love beginning: birthing a baby, christening a ship, the first day on a new job, starting a war. But spreading manure carries none of that exhilaration. It is not dramatic work, not glamorous work, not work that gets anyone’s admiring attention. Manure is a slow solution. Still, when it comes to doing something about what is wrong in the world, Jesus is known for his fondness for the minute, the invisible, the quiet, the slow – yeast, salt, seeds, light. And manure.

Manure does not rank high in the world’s economies. It is refuse. Garbage. We organize efficient and sometimes elaborate systems to collect it, haul it away, get it out of sight and smell. But the observant and wise know that this apparently dead and despised waste is teeming with life – enzymes, numerous microorganisms. It’s the stuff of resurrection.[i]

As we continue our journey through the written sermon that is the New Testament book of Hebrews, our loving pastor is reaching a crescendo in his depiction of the unsurpassed greatness and glory of Christ, and his unmatched effectiveness in completely and totally dealing with sin and defeating death. We aren’t to the crescendo yet, but we’re building toward it. What we need to understand today is that Christ’s work is absolutely effective. It lacks nothing. There is no better source of salvation. In fact, there is no other source at all. And it starts on the inside, not the outside. So it takes time for the impact of his transforming work to show up on the outside. So we don’t quit on people. And we don’t quit on ourselves. Because Jesus doesn’t. Turn with me to Hebrews 9:1-14. We’ll start with Vv. 1-5.

Our pastor starts by describing the Old Testament house of worship – the tabernacle. It was the massive tent that Israel took with them in their time in the wilderness, and in which they worshipped after entering the promised land until Solomon built the first temple. But the primary layout was the same for both the portable tabernacle and the permanent temple in Jerusalem.

The first thing we need to notice is the beauty of this place. At the heart of both temple and tabernacle was the holy place. It was separated from the outer courts by a thick curtain. And in front of the entrance was the massive altar upon which sacrifices were offered to God. The priests entered the holy place regularly, offering sacrifices on the altar in front of the door and then entering to light the lamps and tend to the bread that was always present on the table in the holy place. Everything in it was made of gold, or made of cedar and covered in pure gold. It shone brightly. It was gorgeous.

And then, inside the holy place, was another, smaller place, set apart even from the holy place by another thick curtain. It was called the holy of holies, or the most holy place. There was another altar – the altar of incense, where incense was constantly being burned, creating a pleasing fragrance and also a hazy, smokey effect. Inside the holy of holies was the ark of the covenant. Inside the ark were the two stone tablets containing the ten commandments which God gave to Moses.

And either in or on the ark of the covenant was a golden urn containing some of the manna from the wilderness. Miraculously, this particular bit of manna never went bad, the way the rest of the manna in the wilderness did. Remember? The people gathered manna, and there was enough for everyone for each day. And anything left over, or any that someone tried to store away for later rotted. And that happened every day but the day before the sabbath. Because the manna gathered the day before the sabbath lasted through the sabbath day too, so the people could rest on that day and wouldn’t have to work.

And then, again either inside or in front of the ark of the covenant was Aaron’s staff that miraculously budded and sprouted flowers as a sign of God’s hand on Aaron, Moses’ older brother, as high priest.

And then covering the ark of the covenant was the golden lid, called the mercy seat, and on either side of the mercy seat were figures of cherubim, mighty angels. Inside the holy of holies were tablets containing the handwriting of God along with a remnant of the manna from heaven and Aaron’s staff. And it was at the mercy seat that Moses would go to talk with God, as friends talk with one another. The mercy seat itself, covering the ark of the covenant, was considered the throne of God on earth. It too was all either made of gold or covered in gold. It was stunning. But our pastor only wants us to quickly notice the beauty and splendor of the holy place and the most holy place. He says, “Of these things we cannot now speak in detail.” He just wants us to remember the beauty of it all.

He also wants us to see the impenetrable barrier between the holy place, the holy of holies, and the people. Our translation describes a single tent with two section – the holy place and the most holy place. But the actual Greek uses stronger language than that. It describes the holy place and the most holy place as two separate tents, one leading into the other. Only priests could enter the first tent, which they did every day to perform their duties. And only the high priest could enter the second, and even he could only do that once a year, on the day of atonement.

Our pastor draws attention over and over again to the curtains separating the people from God. For everyone but the priests, there were two curtains separating them from God. And the smoke from the altar of incense obscured the entrance curtain to the holy of holies, so that no one could see into it. It was all beautiful. Stunning. Majestic. But that beauty couldn’t fully be appreciated by anyone. They couldn’t go in.

Now, look at Vv. 6-10. The third thing our pastor wants us to notice is the repetition of their tasks. The priests go “regularly” into the holy place to offer sacrifices and do their other tasks. The high priest only entered the holy of holies once a year, but he did it every year. The priests’ work was never done, because this entire system was set up by God to make the people hungry for more. It all foreshadowed – pointed forward to – the greater work of Christ that was coming.

Look at V. 9. This system of altars and sacrifices could make the people ritually pure – able to worship God and live in community with his people. But it didn’t do anything to actually cleanse them of their sin. Your conscience is your inner reality. Your inner sense of what is right and what is wrong. Your awareness of good and evil.

We all know of people, who can do terrible things and not feel any sense of remorse or guilt. We all know people who can do things that are wrong and not really feel any guilt about it. Or people who see wrong as right. In fact, if we’re honest with ourselves, we know that WE are “those people.” We can convince ourselves that it’s ok to do a lot of things that aren’t ok. That it’s ok to not do lots of things that we really should do. We ALL have a broken inner compass when it comes to figuring out what is right and what is wrong.

The Old Testament system was set up to emphasize our human bent toward sin. No matter how good someone managed to be, they knew they needed to offer sacrifices to God. They knew they needed the high priest to enter the holy of holies every year on their behalf. It was like, “Man, no matter how good I manage to be, I know I’m always falling short.” No matter how good the sacrifice, it needed to be repeated. No matter how good the sacrifice, it couldn’t tear down the impenetrable barrier between God and his people. They couldn’t clean up the inside of the cup. They weren’t designed to.

Self-help books are great, but no self-help book or concept can remove that barrier and provide salvation. No attempt to “live a good life” can remove that barrier. No amount of human effort and striving can remove that barrier.

We need a priest greater than the high priest Aaron and his line. We need a sacrifice greater than that of bulls and lambs that were physically pure. We need a sacrifice offered not in an earthly holy of holies but in the presence of our heavenly Father in the actual throne room of heaven itself. Look at Vv. 11-14.

Christ has offered a sacrifice that no earthly priest could offer. Christ is a sacrifice greater than even the most pure and perfect lamb or bull that could have been offered. What Christ did for you and me on the cross is greater than even the greatest of human efforts.

Jesus, the Christ, fully human, was also the Son of God, fully God and eternal spirit. So he didn’t enter an earthly holy place to offer sacrifices over and over again. He entered the heavenly holy place – the throne room of the eternal Father – and offered himself ONCE AND FOR ALL. Not over and over again every day. Or every year. Once and for all. Because he is eternal spirit, he could offer himself once and take care of all.

The Old Testament sacrifices required perfect lambs or goats or bulls. PHYSICALLY perfect sacrifices. Without spot or blemish. Sacrificial lambs had to be physically correct, models of their species, and pure white. But it was only physical perfection that was required. There is no moral quality to an animal. Animals aren’t good or evil. They simply are what they are. When my horse acts up, he isn’t being bad. He’s just being a horse. When a dog is naughty and poops on the floor, she isn’t breaking some moral law. She’s simply being a dog.

Jesus, the Christ, fully human, physically lived in this world, under God’s moral law, and presented himself before God as the once and for all sacrifice not on the basis of his divine perfection, but on the basis of his having lived in this world like you and I, under the moral law of God like you and I, and was in every situation, obedient to God, regardless of what it cost him, up to and including his life! The old sacrifices that were offered were without physical blemish and could make the one offering it ritually clean, and had to be repeated over and over again. Jesus offered himself without moral blemish once and for all in the presence of God.

Why? Because God loves you. God deeply desires an intimate relationship with you. God doesn’t just want you to know about him. He wants you to know him. Just as he knows you. He wants you to know how his heart beats for you. That sacrifice had to be offered not because God DECIDED it needed to be offered, but because God’s perfect righteousness and holiness, more powerful than any consuming fire, would consume us without it, and God doesn’t desire to consume or destroy us. He desires to love us. And to be loved by us in return.

And unlike human effort and striving, his sacrifice transforms us from the inside out. Look at V. 14. He can do what no other can do. He can transform you from the inside out. Not so that we can follow a list of rules, but so that our hearts begin to beat in time with his and we begin to reflect his nature and character. His love changes us. It transforms us. It does what no other can do.

Writer Jeffery Ebert tells this story from his childhood. “When I was 5 years old, before factory-installed seat belts and automobile air bags, my family was driving home at night on a two-lane country road. I was sitting on my mother’s lap when another car, driven by a drunk driver, swerved into our lane and hit us head-on. I don’t have any memory of the collision. I do recall the fear and confusion I felt as I saw myself literally covered with blood from head to toe.

Then I learned that the blood wasn’t mine at all, but my mother’s. In that split second when the two headlights glared into her eyes, she instinctively pulled me closer to her chest and curled her body around mine. It was her body that slammed against the dashboard, her head that shattered the windshield. She took the impact of the collision so that I wouldn’t have to. It took extensive surgery for my mother to recover from her injuries.”

That’s what Jesus did for us. He took the impact for our sin, and his blood now permanently covers our lives.[ii] And that love is slowly but surely transforming us, not from the outside in, but from the inside out. Yes, it takes time. But it’s effective. So be patient with God. Patient with yourself. And patient with others. We so badly want to cut others off. To get rid of those who cause us trouble. God wants to love them and graft them in. Let’s pray.

[i] Eugene Peterson, Tell It Slant (Eerdmans, 2008), pp. 69–70

[ii] Jeffrey Ebert in Fresh Illustrations for Preaching & Teaching (Baker), from the editors of Leadership.