Leviticus 16: Day of Atonement
Spoken Gospel podcast with a photo of David and Seth

Leviticus 16: Day of Atonement

About This Episode

Why do we want to be in God's presence? What is the meaning of the scapegoat (goat for Azazel)? How does Leviticus help us know we're saved? Seth and David talk through the high point of the Torah in Leviticus 16.

Text Link

The Day of Atonement: How Leviticus 16 Points to Jesus

Show Notes

David and Seth from the Spoken Gospel podcast tackle Leviticus 16, the passage they call the literary mountaintop of the entire Torah. This chapter describes the Day of Atonement, the one day each year when the high priest entered the Holy of Holies to make atonement for himself and for all of Israel. What unfolds is a richly layered ceremony involving four animals, a smoke screen of incense, and a mysterious figure named Azazel, all of which find their surprising fulfillment in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

The Peak of the Mountain

Leviticus 16 occupies the center of both the Torah and the book of Leviticus itself. In the Hebrew literary imagination, this placement is intentional. The Torah is structured like a chiasm, a literary X-shape where the most important content sits at the very center, and Leviticus 16 is the bullseye. The entire narrative arc of Scripture up to this point has been building toward a single question: how can sinful human beings dwell in the presence of a holy God? Humanity was exiled from God's presence in Genesis 3, and every chapter since has been an attempt to close the gap. Now, for the first time, someone is given instructions for entering the Holy of Holies, the innermost room of the tabernacle where the Ark of the Covenant, God's footstool, sat. This was the "droplet" from which all holiness radiated outward, through the inner court, the outer court, all of Jerusalem, all of Israel, and ultimately the entire world. The chapter opens with a jarring reminder of the stakes. It begins by recalling the death of Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, who brought unauthorized fire into God's presence and were killed. The message to Aaron is clear: if you want to enter God's presence and not die, here is exactly what you must do.

Aaron's Preparation and the Linen Garments

Aaron is instructed to gather four animals: a bull, a ram, and two goats. This is surprisingly modest compared to the volume of animals used in his priestly consecration. The Day of Atonement is not distinguished by the quantity of sacrifice but by what the sacrifice accomplishes and where the blood goes. Aaron must also change out of his elaborate priestly garments, the ones adorned with 12 gemstones representing the tribes of Israel, gold, and royal ornamentation, and instead put on plain white linen. This outfit was closer to what an Egyptian priest or a servant would wear, designed to deflect attention rather than command it. The reason is significant: up to this point, Aaron has functioned as a kingly representative of the people before God. But when he enters the Holy of Holies, he is no longer representing the people to God; he is a servant of Yahweh in Yahweh's own court.

This detail echoes powerfully in the New Testament. The Gospel of John takes great care to describe Jesus' garment at his crucifixion as a seamless undergarment. The ancient Jewish historian Josephus, who had no incentive to flatter Christian claims, recorded that the linen priestly garment described in Leviticus was commonly woven from a single piece, seamlessly. Many commentators see John's description as a deliberate signal that Jesus is identifying himself as the high priest of Leviticus 16, sacrificing himself while wearing the linen of a slave. Philippians 2 reinforces this by describing Jesus as one who took the form of a servant and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

Another striking feature of this ceremony is that Aaron performs much of it alone. He slaughters the animal, collects the blood, and sprinkles it with no one watching except God. This stands in sharp contrast to the spectacle of pagan sacrificial systems, where the act of worship was inherently public and performative. The privacy of the Day of Atonement underscores that these sacrifices are ultimately between the priest and God. Sin is primarily an offense against God, which is exactly what David declared after his sin with Bathsheba: "Against you and you alone have I sinned" (Psalm 51:4).

The Smoke Screen and the Presence of God

Before entering the Holy of Holies, Aaron takes a censer full of burning coals from the altar and places incense on the fire so that a thick cloud of fragrant smoke fills the room. The text says the purpose of this cloud is to "cover the mercy seat, so that he does not die" (Leviticus 16:13). The smoke functions as a barrier for Aaron's eyes. Just one book earlier, in Exodus, God told Moses that no one could look at his face and live. The smoke screen prevents Aaron from gazing directly at the manifested presence of God.

This raises a fascinating observation about the role of clouds throughout Scripture. God's presence is frequently associated with clouds: the pillar of cloud in the wilderness, the cloud that descended on Mount Sinai, and Daniel's vision of the Son of Man coming "with the clouds of heaven" (Daniel 7:13). Clouds are not merely a symbol of God's presence; they also serve as a mediating barrier that protects fragile human beings from the overwhelming fullness of divine glory. In the same way, Jesus as the "cloud rider" may be understood as the mediator who stands between humanity and the raw, unshielded presence of God, the one who allows us to ascend into God's throne room without being consumed.

This also raises an important distinction about what "God's presence" means. God's omnipresence, his immensity and sovereign awareness over every cell and star, is different from God's localized, manifested presence, so tangible and concentrated that looking at it means death. The tabernacle is not merely a symbol. God was actually there, in a way that demanded a smoke screen for the high priest's survival. Understanding this distinction is what makes the tearing of the temple curtain at Jesus' death so explosive. That tiny crack through which one man, in the highest office, squeezed through once a year for a split second was ripped wide open from top to bottom when Jesus died. God's manifested presence was no longer contained. It came out to us. And through the Holy Spirit, God now enters the human heart. As 2 Corinthians 3:18 says, his presence lives in us so that we might be "transformed into that same glory," increasingly becoming like the God who now dwells in us.

Why the Old Priesthood Was Never Enough

The bull Aaron sacrifices first is a sin offering for himself and the other priests. This detail is theologically loaded. A priest who must first atone for his own sin cannot perfectly represent or impart innocence to the people. And the fact that this ritual had to be repeated every single year was itself a witness to its inadequacy. As the Book of Hebrews argues, the annual repetition should have been a built-in reminder that these sacrifices were not God's permanent solution. Every time Aaron walked into the tabernacle, he should have been confronted by the insufficiency of the moment, of himself, and of the sacrifice. If God had truly forgotten Israel's sins, why did the blood need to be brought in again?

This is precisely why Jesus is such a better high priest. He does not need to offer a sacrifice for himself. He can perfectly take on the guilt of the nation and perfectly give back innocence. He offers himself as the spotless sacrifice one time, and it is enough. When Jesus died and the temple curtain was torn, it was the signal that the cycle had ended. The blood of bulls and goats could purify temporarily and locally, but Jesus' blood purifies the whole earth and any heart willing to receive it. It can cleanse not just the mercy seat but the human conscience itself. Hebrews 10:19-22 draws the connection explicitly, telling us that through the "new and living way" Jesus opened through the curtain of his own flesh, we can draw near "with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience." Assurance of salvation is not arrogance; it is the intended result of the Gospel. Where the Israelites had to wait each year to see the smoke rise from the Day of Atonement before they could rest, we can look to Good Friday every single day and know that our salvation is secure, not because of what we have done, but because Jesus did it right for us.

The Mystery of Azazel

One of the most debated passages in all of Scripture surrounds the two goats and the figure called Azazel. Lots are cast over two goats: one is designated "for Yahweh" and the other "for Azazel." The goat for Yahweh is sacrificed. But the goat for Azazel has the sins of all Israel confessed over it by the laying on of hands and is then sent away into the wilderness, never to return. This is the origin of our English word "scapegoat," though that translation, introduced in the King James Version, obscures much of what is going on.

There are two major interpretive traditions. The first holds that Azazel is a personal name for a demonic being, a territorial fallen angel who rules over the wilderness. The literary structure supports this: one goat is "for Yahweh" (a personal name), so the parallel implies the other is also "for" a personal being. The intertestamental Book of Enoch (8:1, 9:6) names Azazel as a prince of demons. And the wilderness is consistently portrayed in Scripture as the haunt of evil spiritual forces, the same place where Jesus himself faced Satan after his baptism. Leviticus 17:7, the very next chapter, commands Israel to stop making sacrifices to "goat demons," implying they had been doing exactly that. The goat for Azazel, then, could be understood as God's way of saying: do not appease the demons with sacrifices. Just send the sin back to where it came from. God alone is the one to whom sacrifices are owed.

The second tradition reads Azazel not as a personal name but as a descriptor: "a place of cutting off" or "a place of total destruction," referring to a rocky cliff. The Mishnah records that later Jewish practice involved leading the goat to a cliff's edge and backing it off, where it would die on the rocks below. This interpretation preserves the sacrificial framework by implying that the goat did die outside the camp, consistent with every other atoning sacrifice in Leviticus.

Regardless of which view one takes, the underlying symbolism is the same: the sins of the people are removed completely. They are taken so far away they can never be found again, as far as the east is from the west. However, one critical theological guardrail must be maintained. Jesus' atonement is not a payment made to Satan. Satan is not the lord of hell who holds humanity's ledger and demands a ransom. He is the first one thrown into the lake of fire in Revelation. He is not the chief torturer; he is the chief tortured. The medieval idea that Jesus descended to hell to buy humanity back from Satan, dramatized famously in C.S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, reflects a common historical misunderstanding, not the teaching of the New Testament.

Jesus as Both Goats and the Final Ram

What the New Testament does show is that Jesus fulfills the role of both goats. At his baptism, a baptism for repentance that he did not need, Jesus symbolically took on the sins of the people. He then went out into the wilderness, the very place where sin and its author dwell, and was tempted by Satan himself. Yet he did not sin. He went to the most unholy, impure place imaginable and remained perfectly holy. He left the sins there and came back. Then he became the goat for sacrifice as well, offering himself on the cross as the sin offering that purifies the Holy of Holies of the human heart. He is both goats: the one who carries sin away into oblivion and the one whose blood is sprinkled on the mercy seat.

And he is the final ram. After the private ceremonies were finished, Aaron would change back into his royal priestly garments, representing the people, and offer a ram as a burnt offering. The entire animal was consumed on the altar, and the smoke rising in public view signaled to all of Israel that the Day of Atonement was complete. It was the period at the end of the sentence. For us, Jesus on the cross is that final, public, all-consuming sacrifice. We can look to it and know that we have been purified, made holy, and given peace with God. Not for one year but forever. Every day becomes the Day of Atonement. Every day can be a day of solemn rest, not because we earned it, but because one priest offered one sacrifice once for all.

Transcript

Related Resources

Listen to the Leviticus Introduction podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Should We Obey The Law Today? podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 1-5: Offerings podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 6-10: Priests podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 11-15: Unclean Foods, Diseases, and Emissions podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 16: Day of Atonement podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 17-20: Blood, Sex, and Loving Your Neighbor podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 21-22: A Different Standard For Priests podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 23 and 25: Sabbath, Festivals, and Jubilee podcast

Listen Now

Listen to the Leviticus 24 and 26-27: The Death Penalty, Curses, and Vows podcast

Listen Now
Free videos sent straight to your inbox.