Chapter 16 opens with a reference that brings us back to chapter 10, when Aaron’s two sons died after making an unauthorized sacrifice to God. Now, to prevent this kind of thing from happening again, God provides instructions to protect the high priest. But this is not the only point of the chapter. As we’ve seen outlined in chapters 11-15, there are a number of situations and behaviors that make the people unclean. Although this isn’t always a moral issue, it does keep them from being able to be in God’s presence in the sanctuary. Thus, beyond the daily sacrifices, there still needs to be a way to purify the sanctuary, the tent, the priests and the people from the pollutions of the unclean worshipers so that the presence of God may remain among them.
First, we deal with the priests. As understood in previous discussions from Exodus and earlier in Leviticus, priests can’t just strut into God’s house, doing so in an unclean state is certain death (part of the reason priests who entered the Holy of Holies took to having a rope tied around their leg when they went in. That way, if they died in there, the body could be retrieved without someone else potentially dying in their trying to remove the body, which at that point would make them unclean). So, two things happen. First, there is a purification sacrifice (a young bull) and a burnt offering (a ram). Also, he must wash, then change his clothes to a full linen get up. In his normal attire, the High Priest looks like a king. When entering the presence of God, he is dressed as a servant, nothing flashy about him.
The bull is sacrificed and its blood is used to purify a number of different areas. Coals from the sacrificial altar are mixed with incense and the smoke fills the holy of holies, covering the top of the ark of covenant where God’s presence dwells, and ultimately protecting the priest from inadvertently seeing the presence and dying. The blood is also touched onto the “mercy seat” on both the east side and the front. Some is also put onto the altar and to the tent itself.
But it’s not just the priests uncleanness that’s the problem, the people are also the problem. So from among the people two goats are taken for a sin (purification) offering and a ram for a burnt offering. With the two goats, lots are cast as one will be given to the Lord and one will be sent to Azazel (more on that in a minute). Generally what would happen is that the two goats would be placed in front of the high priest, one to the right and one to the left. Two lots were put into a pot or an urn, one with the words “to the Lord” on it and the other with the words “to Azazel” on it. The high priest would take the lots out and place one on each of the goats’ heads. Then everyone would be able to see which one goes to the Lord and which one goes to Azazel (as compared to the priests cleanness ceremony which happens in private).
The goat who belongs to the Lord would be sacrificed and its blood would be used in the same way the blood of young bull was for the priest sacrifice, sprinkled on the mercy seat, the tent, the altar, etc. The purpose is explicit, “… to make atonement for the Holy Place, because of the uncleannesses of the people of Israel and because of their transgressions, all their sins. And so he shall do for the tent of meeting, which dwells with them in the midst of their uncleannesses.”
Next, the priest approaches the live goat. He places both his hands on the goat’s head and confesses over it all of the sins of the people. In essence, the sins are being called out and transferred onto this scapegoat. The goat is then sent away into the wilderness with the help of someone whose gig it is to make sure the goat and all of its newly acquired uncleanness makes its way out of the camp, where apparently Azazel awaits.
The symbolism of the act is relatively clear, the sins of the people are transferred to the goat and removed from the camp so as to no longer able to pollute the people or the camp (and put them at risk of broaching the laws of mixing the holy and the unclean). The phrase the ESV renders as “…into the wilderness…” is literally rendered as “a land of cutting off”. There are various thoughts on what this means, then. It could just be a place where the goat ends up that they are physically cut off from returning to the camp (like a deep valley or something). Or, it could mean that it is a place where the life of the goat is cut off (later Jewish literature would record the fella whose job it was to handle these types of things as basically chasing the goat until it fell backwards off of a cliff).
This leads to the next interesting item, the description that the goat is for Azazel. With the initial comparison of one goat being for the Lord and one being for Azazel, many have been led to believe that Azazel is some kind of demon who is being pacified with this sinful goat. This isn’t surprising in those times as the wilderness was often considered the place where demons could be hanging out. Further, Azazel is the name of a demon in later Jewish literature (Enoch 8:1 and 9:6). Functionally, we could see this as the sins being returned back to their author. However, it would seem difficult to not see this as a gift to a demon, something that would certainly have no place in a ceremony that is entirely predicated on the service to and holiness of Yahweh. (Also, Leviticus 17:7 seems pretty clear that there can be no sacrifice, certainly including an offering, to any other spiritual being).
A couple of alternative explanations do not treat Azazel as a proper noun but instead as rare Hebrew nouns meaning either “complete destruction” or “rocky precipice”. These combine with our earlier explanation of the goat being “cut off” and ultimately point to the fate of the goat being one of destruction or, at least, isolation, without the implication that there is a specific being waiting for it or to whom it belongs. I’m partial to either one of these explanations, not because it avoids complications related to some kind of goat-hoarding desert demon, but because they make more logistical sense, aren’t in conflict with sacrificial restrictions in the next chapter, and are more consistent with the rest of the Biblical record (which makes no future reference to Azazel). Regardless, the intention is clear, the sin is being eliminated from Israel.
After all of this is done, the priest re-enters the tent of meeting, takes off the linen, washes himself, puts his old priestly duds back on, then makes the burnt offering for both himself and the people. Then the various things that need done with the sacrificed animal are taken care of, and anyone who was part of burning up the extra outside the camp has to wash before they re-enter. The same thing must occur for the fella who leads the scapegoat out of the camp.
Most of this has focused on the work of the priest, but the people have a part as well (outside of just providing a sacrifice). They must set this day aside annually as a sabbath, meaning they shall rest and no one shall work. But they will also “afflict” themselves, a reference that elsewhere in Scripture has a connotation of self-reflection, repentance, fasting and prayer. The people are participants in this recognition of the mercy God is extending, not in earning it, but in receiving it and actively taking part in it. And in it, they shall be clean before the Lord from all of their sins (16:30).
Hebrews 9 spends much time making the connection of this annual day of atonement for Israel to the sacrifice that is ultimately made by Jesus. In God’s new agreement with his people, there is no longer a day of atonement because there is no need for one. With Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, our sins were purged once and for all. There is no risk of dying in God’s holy presence or being limited to only once a year. Jesus has cleared the path for every one to enter into the presence of God at any time. And even as we consider the scapegoat, we see Jesus taking all of our sins upon himself, eliminating the iniquity from our camp, from ourselves.
What can we then take from this in our day to day lives? Perhaps, combining the entire picture of chapters 11-16, let us not become numb to the extent of our need for mercy and a means for redemption, nor God’s perfect and willing provision of that very thing. Further, although we have not and cannot earn that mercy, let us not give up “afflicting” ourselves, spending time in prayer, repentance, fasting, and reflection; actively taking part in the mercy we have been given.