An Excerpt from “A Meditation for All Hallows Eve”

The rituals of the Old Covenant tended to underline this terror. Animals were slaughtered by the thousands and blood was everywhere, covering furniture and altars, and the Levites and priests were constantly stained in blood from the butchery, like warriors in battle. The idea was always to “draw near” to the presence, to come near to the holiness, but the tabernacle could have easily seemed like the original haunted house, filled with thick, smoky darkness, lit by the wavering candles of the holy presence. Even at the door of the Holy Place where Israelites were commanded to appear, the panicked bleating of the lambs smelling the blood of their slaughtered cousins was constant. It was hardly comforting to know that the God of this holiness viewed the screaming beasts as pictures of you. Here, put your hands on the head of this lamb, listen to it scream and gurgle as the Levite slices open his throat. This is you, my son. This is my holiness. You are my holy people. Even with the reassurances of the priest, and the promise that the smoke was rising to God as a pleasing aroma, it would have been hard to shake the feeling that this God was a living, seething volcano.

Read the entire post by Toby Sumpter HERE.

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