Aarons's Sunmission.

Adapted From A Sermon By

Philip Doddridge

Then Moses said to Aaron, “This is what the LORD has said: ‘Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified.’” And Aaron held his peace.

(Leviticus 10:3 ESV)

This morning we consider a profound moment of silence in Scripture. In Leviticus 10:3, after Nadab and Abihu were consumed by fire from the Lord for offering unauthorized fire, Moses declared: “This is what the Lord has said: ‘Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified.’” And Aaron held his peace.

Aaron, a father who has just lost his two eldest sons in the most sudden and terrible way, says nothing. No cry of protest, no question, no outburst. He simply holds his peace.

In this quiet submission we see one of the Bible’s clearest examples of trusting God’s sovereign will in the deepest sorrow. Today we reflect on what it meant for Aaron to respond this way, and what it teaches us about grace-enabled trust when our own hearts face trial.

We draw from the wise insights of Philip Doddridge in his sermon “Aaron’s Submission.” May the Lord grant us the same humble reverence before His holy will. {Let us pray.}

Obedience to God's commanding will and submission to his disposing will are undoubtedly the two main parts of all of practical religion. The first one has ofen been stressed in Doddridge's sermons. Now the second one will be urged by looking at this striking example right in front of us: Aaron, the high priest of the Lord. His two sons, Nadab and Abihu, had just been struck dead by the Lord because they dared to offer strange fire before him against a command he had recently given. At that moment God sent a very serious message to Aaron: "Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified": and when Aaron heard it, we are told that he held his peace. In dealing with this subject, we will,

I. Consider how much reason Aaron might have had to complain in his situation:

II. Show how much stronger the reason was for the quiet submission he showed; and then,

III. Consider what benefit we can gain from the whole matter.

If you have ever felt God place his heavy hand of affliction on you in a striking way, you have good reason to listen carefully. If your health has failed, if your plans have fallen apart, if death has entered your family and taken away those who were dear to you so they now lie in the grave, know this: this example and this warning are meant especially for you.

But consider this: the subject before us concerns every one of us. Before another Sunday comes around, perhaps the strongest body may grow weak, the most successful life may face trouble, the happiest family may be touched by death. It could happen that one of us will soon lie in the grave. And those who think this message has little to do with them might be the first ones called to face it. In fact, this very lack of concern might make it necessary for God to bring such a blow upon them. Listen then to this example of Aaron. If you ever face a trial like his in any way, you may learn from him to hold your peace.

I. Let first consider how much Aaron might have said to excuse some complaint in this situation.

His tender feelings as a father could probably have given many more reasons than we will consider. Still, it is clear that some facts could have been brought up as an excuse, at least to lessen blame, if not to fully justify, some arguments with God and some complaints against him. And as we unfold this matter will we not have to admit that our own sorrows are very small compared with what he endured in silence, while we complain. He lost both his eldest sons in one day. They were grown men, mature, and they had just begun the honor and work of the priest's office. He lost them by a sudden act of divine judgment right in the middle of their sin against God. Let any parent here imagine this happened to him. Then let him say whether he would not feel tempted to some outburst, and perhaps even say, as Jonah did, "I do well to be angry."{Jonah 4:9}

1. Aaron had lost both his eldest sons in one day.

The death of one child cuts deeply into the heart of a loving parent. When we see someone whom God has struck with one loss after another, we consider that situation especially heartbreaking. To bury one child this year and another the next is sad. But to bury both in the same month, or even the same week, is a rare and terrible tragedy. How much more deeply then must this double blow have cut into Aaron's soul. Both his children, his eldest sons, the first fruits of his strength, the heirs of his honor and his family line, were taken away together in the same hour, in the same moment. His soul must have felt like the Apostles Paul's ship, crashing, as it were, striking a reef.{Acts 27:41}

2. It must have made his sorrow even worse that both sons had reached full maturity.

He might have said, alas, if they had died as babies, right from the cradle, it would have been much easier to bear. If these young men had been taken in their early years, before they grew up,{Job 14:2} I would not have felt the loss so deeply. But I gave them all the careful love and effort of raising them, and now they had grown into manhood. They must have been at least twenty-five years old, since that was the youngest age to serve even in the lowest duties of the Levites according to God's law.{Numbers 8:24} Now, he might have said, just when they were reaching the years when I could expect them to repay my care, I am old and nearing the end of life. He was ninety years old at the time. I thought these sons would support me in my old age. But God has taken them both away. Who can be surprised if I feel this pain? Who can blame me if I complain?

3. It was an extra source of pain that they had just begun the honor and duties of the priestly office.

Aaron and his sons were the ones God had chosen to come close to him and serve him in his sanctuary. Only a few days before their death, Aaron had watched them being solemnly presented before the Lord. They were sprinkled with the blood of sacrifice, dressed in the holy garments, and anointed with the sacred oil.

Perhaps at that time he thought, Here is a blessed covenant of priesthood now set up with my family. It carries countless benefits and blessings. These sons of mine stand so close to the Lord. They will honor him, and he will honor them. I will see true faith grow strong in their lives. I will often hear them praise God with their own voices. When I die, they will not only close my eyes, but they will take my place.

Nadab will become high priest after I am gone. He will enter even the most holy place. He will have the closest views of God and the closest fellowship with him that any person on earth can receive. Or if Nadab dies before me, his brother Abihu will surely take his place and mine. In this way God shows delight in honoring my family. Surely this is a promise of more blessings to come, even down to the lowest and most distant member, who will be blessed because of the priest. These were hopeful thoughts, and they seemed reasonable.

What a terrible shock it must have been to see them carried out dead, still wearing their priestly robes. We are clearly told that their relatives came near and carried them out of the camp in their coats.{Leviticus 10:4} Without doubt, the greater the hopes this godly father had built up, the greater his sorrow became in such a tragic moment.

4. It must have made his pain even worse to think that he lost them by a sudden act of God's judgment.

The more God's anger is involved in any event, the deeper it cuts into the heart of every believer. What then must Aaron have felt on this sad day! If both sons had died in battle, or if they had both died from some serious and deadly disease, it would have been a hard thing to accept, one that God might have placed in his hand. But to lose them by fire from the Lord that came out against them and consumed them, how much more terrible that is!

When Miriam, Moses' sister, was struck with leprosy,{Numbers 12:13} how Moses felt for her and how hard he prayed to God to heal her! How much worse then for Aaron to see his sons struck not by ordinary lightning but by fire straight from God. He might have been ready to say, If an enemy had done this, I could have accepted it more easily. But that God, the one whose priest I am, should turn against me and my family right away, that my own children, instead of offering sacrifices, should become the sacrifices themselves before him, how can I bear that? And, to add no more,

5. It must have made his sorrow worse than anything else to think that they were cut off right in the middle of their sin, with no time left to repent.

Their crime was offering strange fire before the Lord (that is common fire, which is called strange because it was different from what God had appointed; for we are expressly told that the fire of the Lord fell on the first sacrifices which were offered to him in the sanctuary.{Leviticus 9:24} This fire it was the priest's duty to keep continually burning; and with this fire incense was to be offered.

What they did he had expressly forbidden by requiring that the fire be taken from the altar before the Lord:{Leviticus 16:12} and from the prohibition which immediately follows, verse 9, in which they are charged not to drink wine while they were ministering before God, it seems highly probable that these young priests had drunk too much, a serious fault in anyone, but especially in a priest: and so they rushed boldly into God's presence at the time of the evening sacrifice, when they were supposed to burn incense on the golden altar.

They rushed in without thinking or fear, like a horse charges into battle: but, like the horse, they were struck dead at once. The terrors of God's majesty were shown; and his sharp sword pierced their hearts at the same moment it blinded their eyes; so they were taken in the very act of sin; without time or chance, as far as we can see, to ask God's forgiveness for what they did.

Consider his strict justice! Consider how he wrote that important warning in clear and terrible words: "Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified." But how could a parent's heart bear such a blow? Alas! he might have been ready to say, if God had let them die by human judgment and given a few days or hours between the sentence and the execution, even though it looked more shameful, it would have been less terrible overall: or if he had hit them with a high fever or some other illness that took them slowly to the grave, they might have had time to humble themselves before God and repent of their wrong.

Then their souls could have been in a better state when they faced him. But to be taken with all their sins and foolishness still on them; taken even in the middle of drunkenness and disrespect, O my son Nadab! my son Abihu! I wish I had died instead of you, O my children, my children! Human nature would surely have led Aaron to speak like this: maybe even worse. It might have made him say, Was the wrong really so bad as to deserve this punishment? Could their youth not have been an excuse? Could the state they were in not have counted for something, especially since it was not some terrible evil they did?

If it had been murder or violent robbery, it would deserve that punishment: but when it was only a careless mistake, perhaps forgetfulness; or at least just changing one small part of worship and using one fire instead of another, with no clear difference between them, could this really deserve such fierce anger?

That is how Satan and our own sinful hearts might teach us to talk; but Aaron knew better. He did not open his mouth to accuse God of unfairness. He said nothing against him; but, as the Psalmist puts it, he said, "I will guard my mouth with a muzzle, that I may not sin with my tongue;"{Psalm 39:1} and he stayed silent. He held his peace, even though his sorrow was certainly deep; and we see a calm in his soul where we would expect the worst storm: Aaron held his peace. Now we will consider.

II. How much greater reasons Aaron had for that silent submission, which he here expressed, than for this complaint which might have seemed so natural on this mournful occasion: and here we may observe that some of these reasons were peculiar to Aaron, and others common to all good men. We shall only touch on the former, that we may consider the latter in more depth.

1. There were some reasons for submission that were special to Aaron's situation and position.

He was the high priest. As the text says later, the anointing oil was still fresh on him, and the days of his consecration were not yet over. Because of this, he was not allowed even to show mourning or use any normal signs of grief, things that would have been proper in other situations. He was seen as God's minister in a special way. His duty to his Heavenly Master was greater than any duty he could have to even the closest person on earth.

We can also add that God's hand was so clearly at work in this case. To mourn or complain would have been a direct insult to God. No other causes stood in between, where blame could be placed with any appearance of fairness. It was the Lord himself who acted, and God sent him an immediate message to stop any argument about it: "This is that which the Lord has spoken," &c. But setting these points aside, let us look more closely at

2. Those reasons for submission that were in large part common to Aaron and to all good people.

And they are such as these. It was the act of a Sovereign Being that no one could control, of a just and wise Being who does nothing that is either wrong or foolish, the act of a God who had shown himself gracious to him many times before, who had kept many comforts for him still: and he could reasonably hope that even this affliction would in the end be turned to his good. We can only touch on these points briefly, though they could otherwise provide enough material for several sermons in themselves.

i. Aaron knew that he had to do with a Sovereign Being, whose actions could not be controlled.

The God, by whose hand his sons died, [was he that does according to his will among the host of heaven;]{Daniel 4:35} and, among the inhabitants of the lower world, none can stay his hand, or call him to an account for any of his proceedings.

He takes away, and who can hinder him? or who can say to him, What are you doing? All the rage that Aaron could have entertained or expressed would only have tormented and exposed himself; and all his complaints and expostulations had only been like arrows shot upward into the air at no target and to no purpose—only to curve back and fall upon his own head, wounding himself instead of recovering or avenging his children.

This is an important thought, even if it isn’t a most pleasant one. It should teach everyone to accept the burdens we cannot escape: the harder we fight against them, the more we hurt ourselves. That’s why even a non-believing philosopher once said: “O God, lead me wherever you will—I will follow patiently. I know that in the end I must follow you, whether I want to or not.”

ii. Aaron knew that God was too wise and too righteous to do anything that was unfair or foolish.

People might say many things against what happened here. But when it was clearly God's hand at work, there are stronger reasons to show his wisdom and fairness than any reasons to complain. The weakest and worst people would not act unjustly unless they saw some personal gain from it. But the blessed God has no need for personal gain. It brings him no profit to oppress anyone.{Job 10:3}

His perfect nature means he depends on no one and nothing his creatures do. So it is impossible for him to gain anything from harming them. Also, it is clear that troubles sent to guilty people are just. A living person has no right to complain when he is punished for his sins.{Lamentations 3:39} Alas! Aaron might have said, my children are dead, but why am I still alive? Have I not angered God as much as they did? Only a few months ago I foolishly listened to the people and made a golden idol for them. O my soul! humbly accept this painful blow. Be thankful it did not come in a worse form.

If we train ourselves to think this way—about God's wisdom and justice in general, and about our own sins in particular—we will learn to say God is right and we are wrong. We will not complain or grumble under his discipline. Instead we will say with Micah, "I will bear the indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him."{Micah 7:9}

iii. Aaron might also consider that God's proven goodness would make any complaint seem wrong.

He knew in general that God is good to everyone and shows kindness to all he has made. He knew especially that God had been good to him. Oh! he might have said, did not God give me my life? Has he not kept me alive all this time? Has he not guided me this far in life so that I have lacked nothing good? Was it not God who gave me these children, even though he has now taken them away? And was it not God who let me keep the others who are still with me?

Surely, he might say, I must admit that even in judgment God has remembered mercy. Eleazar and Ithamar could have been left to sin and die with Nadab and Abihu. But the fact that they and I are still alive, that we are honored with the priesthood, that we receive so many special blessings along with the common happiness and honor we have as Israelites, all this comes from God's rich and abundant goodness. And shall we accept good from the Lord and not accept hardship also?{Job 2:10}

So, Christians, you should look at all the repeated and ongoing mercies around you. This will help quiet your complaints when hard times come. God can take away no more than he has given, but he has given a thousand times more than he will ever take away. There is reason to think Aaron now looked to better blessings above that could never be lost. At least it is certain that a Christian can rightly hold such a hope. But that leads to the next observation which is that

iv. Aaron might also think about this: God could turn even this bad thing into good and change this heavy loss into a mercy.

In many cases we know that this has happened: out of the eater has come something to eat, and out of the strong something sweet;{Judges 14:14} and why could it not happen here too? Aaron might say, I am suffering, but God is honored. If he is my Father and my God, his honor should matter more to me than my own pain. I am suffering, but Israel may learn from it and be taught to fear the great and terrible name of the Lord God.

Not only those who saw this sad event, but also people in far-off nations and lands who hear about it may learn to come to God with more respect. They may follow his rules of worship more carefully and seriously. And could I not learn the same lesson? Will this not teach me, as long as I live, when I walk in his courts, when I come to his altar, when I go into the most holy place, to stay away from anything that would make him angry?

And could it also teach me that this world and its best things do not last? Perhaps I have been too proud and too attached to my children. God, by this loss, may lower what I expect from them and how much I depend on them. Perhaps this may bring my soul closer to God. It may prepare me better for that heavenly home, of which this earthly one is only a shadow. For even though my family is not safe from God, yet "he has made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and secure. For will he not cause to prosper all my help and my desire?"{2 Samuel 23:5}

And if this covenant's blessings grow stronger and lead to my eternal happiness, then welcome God's will! Welcome the death of my children if it helps prepare me for it! Welcome my own death when it brings me to it! And in the same way a Christian can surely say this, especially when he knows all his troubles come through the hand of a Redeemer, and when the scriptures teach him to see them as proof of God's love: "For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives."{Hebrews 12:6} But we must come now to a close,

III. With a few short points from what we have heard this morning, and here is the first:

1. See how strong God's grace is to hold up a believer in his sorrows.

It taught Aaron to carry that heavy and crushing sorrow in the way we have just seen. Let us notice it. Let us honor it. Let us trust in it. Let us not be afraid of suffering ahead of time. It is possible—yes, we can reasonably expect—that our strength will match our trials. Perhaps if someone had told Aaron earlier that he would face such a test, he would not have believed he could stay silent through it. In this way God can bring us through difficulties that we now hardly dare to imagine.

2. Let us humble ourselves before God because we have complained and grumbled under troubles that are nowhere near as hard as what Aaron faced.

Let us take the greatest sorrows of our lives and compare them to the calamity we have been thinking about. How small they will seem!

One of you perhaps has faced disappointment in his financial situation. Another has suffered from serious illness. Another has been unfairly criticized, maybe insulted and attacked by his enemies, or treated badly by people who should have been his friends. Another has lost a close relative, perhaps a child, because of disease or an accident. These are difficult trials. But what are they compared to Aaron's suffering?

Yet Aaron stayed silent. We, on the other hand, have often been quick to complain and blame God foolishly. And Aaron never had the special advantages that we receive. Aaron never received such a clear revelation of the covenant of grace. He never saw such a bright hope of heavenly glory. Aaron did not see an Incarnate Redeemer appear as the great high priest and overseer of God's household. He did not see this Redeemer endure the worst suffering for his people—suffering with even greater submission than Aaron himself. He said with humble obedience, "Father, not as I will, but as you will. Shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?"{Matthew 26:39, John 18:11}

What strong reason we have to feel humbled! Our advantages are so much greater, yet our behavior is often so much worse than that of this high priest of Israel.

3. Let us store up this example as a pattern for us to follow in the future.

Perhaps some of us are right now under God's discipline. For the rest of us, we do not know how soon our turn will come to drink from the bitter cup. Even when we are happy, it is our duty to remember the hard times and get ready for them. We should learn ahead of time, before trouble hits, to stay quiet and submit to our Heavenly Father. We should even accept the pain from the hand that strikes us.

Happy are the people who handle suffering this way! A sweetness mixes in with the bitter parts when they produce the peaceful results of righteousness. In the end, these trials will bring a great reward of glory. The soul will have every reason to say, Lord, "it is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes."{Psalm 119:71}

If you, Christians, want to act this way, make it your goal to build a strong belief in your mind. Believe not only that God is just, but also that he is good. Keep a clear sense of how bad your own sins are. At the same time, hold on to some real assurance that you belong to God through the Redeemer. Look often at the examples of submission written in the Bible.

When the trial comes, watch closely for the first signs of pride or anger. Run to the throne of grace. Pour out your pain to God so you do not say anything wrong against him. Keep asking the Spirit of grace for the help that cleanses and strengthens you. That help is the life and power of your soul. Try to look past this cloud of tears and this fog of sorrow to the blessed world beyond the veil. There, God will wipe every tear from our eyes, and sorrow and sighing will disappear forever.