7. Baken in the fryingpan. The ingredients were the same, fine flour and oil. The cakes were brought “unto the Lord” and presented to the priest, who was to take the “memorial” part ( 9) and burn it on the altar. The part that was left belonged to Aaron and his sons and was “a thing most holy” (see 10).
Fine flour. The fine flour used in meat offerings was no different from other fine flour, and had no special virtue attached to it. Yet, after it was given to the priest it became “most holy.” The same principle applied in the case of Ananias and Sapphira (see Acts 5). It should cause all who minister in holy things and receive dedicated offerings to be careful in the use of and handling of these “most holy” things.
As noted above, fine flour represents man’s lifework, his talents consecrated and improved.
Flour is merely crushed grain. Before being crushed it was capable of perpetuating itself, of transmitting life. Now, being crushed, it is apparently useless. It can never be planted again. The life is crushed out of it. But is it useless? No. It has given its life, it has died, that another life might be maintained. The crushing of its own life becomes the means through which a higher life is perpetuated. It was the life of the seed; now it helps sustain the life of a living being, created in the image of God. Death has enriched it, glorified it, made it serviceable to man.
Few lives are of real and enduring value until they have been bruised and crushed. It is in the deep and dark experiences of life that men find themselves and God. It is when the water goes over the soul that character is built. Sorrow, disappointment, and suffering are the able servants of God. The dark days bring showers of blessing, enabling the seed to germinate, fulfill its mission, and bring forth fruit.
The problem of suffering may be unfathomable in its deeper aspects. But some things are clear. Suffering serves a definite purpose in the plan of God as a means of preparing the soul for heaven. It mellows the spirit. It fits the soul for a deeper understanding of the true meaning of life. It inspires sympathy for others. It leads one to walk softly before God and men. It humbles.
In this life, only he who has suffered has really lived. Only he who has loved has lived. The two are inseparable. Love involves sacrifice, and sacrifice often involves suffering. This, however, need not necessarily be painful suffering; for the highest kind of suffering is holy, exalted, joyful. A mother may sacrifice for her child; she may suffer physically; but she does it joyfully, willingly. Love counts sacrifice a privilege.
The full lesson of suffering has not been learned until we can rejoice in it. And rejoice we may, and will, when we experience what Paul did when he said that “as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ” (2 Cor. 1:5). This is true also of vicarious suffering. Christ, “for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame” (Heb. 12:2).
The flour in the meat offering was not to be offered by itself alone; it was to be mingled with oil. Oil is symbolic of the Spirit of God. Only as a life is sanctified by the Spirit, mixed with it, anointed with it, can it be pleasing to God. Suffering in and of itself may not prove a blessing. With some it only leads to hardness of heart and bitterness of spirit. But as the Holy Spirit takes possession of the soul, as the sweet spirit of the Master permeates the life, the fragrance of a dedicated life becomes manifest.