In my second year of university, a roommate and I were desperate to be accepted as engineering orientation leaders. They hosted the parties, led the events, and maintained the faculty’s wild reputation. For our interviews, we drank too much and dressed in one-piece long johns and leather jackets to try and look the part. I arrived with a massive, custom-order pizza to bribe them, and my friend swallowed a live goldfish in front of them to prove his qualifications.

Looking back, it seems absurd that we were willing to sacrifice so much to be accepted. Why was I so desperate for the approval of people I barely liked? It wasn’t the last time I would wear a mask to try to prove myself to someone. But surprisingly, it was a deep dive into a book that most people avoid that helped reshape my thinking in this area.

The masks we wear and why we wear them

As you begin reading Leviticus, you’re immersed in a strange world of animal sacrifices. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on. The sacrifices in Leviticus can be explained in part by a sacrifice God provides in the opening chapters of the Bible.

In the Garden of Eden, the Bible explains that Adam and Eve “were both naked and were not ashamed” (Genesis 2:25). Before God and one another, they lived with nothing to hide. But sin changed that. As soon as they disregarded God’s command, their first instinct was to hide from one another and from God. They famously sewed fig leaves together to cover themselves (Genesis 3:7). They were trying to put something on the outside to hide the shame they felt on the inside. We’ve been doing the same thing ever since.

Is it possible that my desperation to be accepted by an orientation committee stemmed from a yearning for the acceptance we lost in the garden? Were the long johns and goldfish antics the fig leaves we chose to hide who we were?

God’s alternative to our fig leaves

You can imagine how ineffective a bra and underwear made out of leaves would be – not to mention uncomfortable! Interestingly, God doesn’t tell them that the idea is silly. He knows that their shame is real. They were covering their bodies as a way of finding acceptance despite the guilt they felt.

God graciously provided a more effective covering for them. Genesis 3:21 says, “And the LORD God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skins and clothed them.” God somehow sacrificed an animal and covered Adam and Eve with it. The first fur coat? The birth of the leather industry? At least they wouldn’t have to deal with the constant embarrassment of wardrobe malfunctions. More importantly, God was giving them a hint that the solution to our longing for acceptance lies in a sacrifice.

Leviticus points to the sacrifice that heals our hiding

It helps to visualize the Book of Leviticus rather than just read it. It reads more like a manual than a novel. As you try to picture the first chapter, you see a person going through their flock and choosing their very best sheep (Leviticus 1:2-3). You didn’t just hand it over to the priest. You instead had to lay your hand on it and then kill it yourself. As you placed your hand on the animal, you’d remember how God had warned Adam and Eve that the penalty for ignoring Him was death. As you raised the knife to kill your very best animal, you’d be thinking, “It should have been me.”

I deserve to die for my sin, but God says that He’ll accept a substitute in my place. You’d think that the result would be mixed. Leviticus tells us that it’s complete. When the sacrifice is burned before the Lord, God calls it “a pleasing aroma” (Leviticus 1:9). God doesn’t just tolerate people whose sin has been covered by a sacrifice, He accepts them fully. They’re covered, cleansed, and received by the God against whom they’ve sinned.

Jesus died to provide the acceptance we long for

Hundreds of years of those sacrifices prepared people for a greater sacrifice that He was planning. When Jesus came, John the Baptist said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29) God brought the sacrifice, so we didn’t have to. God covered our sins, so we didn’t need any more fig leaves. And through faith in His sacrifice, we experience His full acceptance.

As long as we live in a world where people make you jump through hoops to earn their acceptance, we’ll feel the temptation to hide behind long johns and goldfish. But when you know the full and free acceptance of the God who made you, it makes you less desperate for the approval of people who often withhold it.

If you know the acceptance of God, re-read Leviticus 1, picture the scene, and rejoice in the God who breathes in the aroma of a sacrifice offered on your behalf and is fully pleased with it. He’s fully pleased with you!

In awe of Him,

Paul