The Oil of Sanctity

Leviticus 1-3:

Reading again of the particulars of the various animal sacrifices I was struck by the notion that as the unblemished animal victims must typify the sinless Savior the grain offerings must typify the Church. We who are made of one loaf in Him are not offered as we are, but must be sacrificed with oil (Lev. 2:4). This oil, this element of our sanctity, represents something other than moral rectitude. It is the abrogation of the will, the mortification of self, the righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and pharisees, the coat of baptism.

The "desire of the flesh" and the "desire of the eyes" (I John 2:16) are relatively easy to overcome compared with the "pride in riches" ("boastful pride of life" in the KJV). These "riches" are not merely the things that we've accumulated but the lives we have made for ourselves. Lives which we cannot hold on to. Lives we must yield entirely to the God in Whom we live, move and have our being. This abandon, this fulfillment of faith, is the sanctifying oil whereby our minds are made palatable to God. Then, finally, we gain an understanding. Then we see things as God sees them. Then our hearts are trully broken. When the Christian's heart is broken his body will be sound, when his heart is whole his body will be broken. Luther described it this way,

"But believers in God risk all in Him and transfer all into His care, for Him to do according to His pleasure, and think thus: God has given you your home and wife, you have not produced them yourself; now because they are God's, I will entrust them to His care, He will keep them from all harm. I must otherwise leave all at any rate, therefore I will bravely trust Him with them and for His sake give up all that I have...Whoever is not thus disposed, denies God, and must at the same time lose both, the present and the eternal life." (from the Tenth Sunday after Trinity sermon)

But this is not to achieve some pacific, blissful "otherliness" of transcendant enlightenment. No, this is where our troubles begin. This is when we can see above ourselves, can see the lost lanquishing in darkness, a world of ruin wracked on the shores of hell.

 "Blessed are you who weep now" Christ declared. We have a glimpse of His heart in Luke 12:50, that He was under stress until the completion of His "baptism". He yearned every moment of His perfect life to make that sacrifice in obedience to the Father knowing the joy that awaited Him in glory. Is such yearning to do that which must be done our own?