Strange Fire

A father stands in front of the tabernacle. Moments ago, everything was joy. Now there is only silence. He opens his mouth to speak, and then he closes it again. He says nothing at all.

It is still the great day at Mount Sinai, the day the tabernacle came alive. Aaron the high priest has offered the first sacrifices. Fire from the LORD has fallen on the altar, and the people have shouted and fallen on their faces. Aaron's four sons are priests now too: Nadab, Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar. Nadab and Abihu are the eldest. They are not newcomers to holy things. Not long before, they had gone partway up the mountain with Moses and the elders, and seen a vision of the God of Israel. They know better than almost anyone how great and holy God is.

Each of them takes his firepan, a small bronze pan for carrying hot coals. They put fire in it, lay incense on top, and bring it before the LORD. But this is fire the LORD had not commanded. The Bible calls it strange fire, or unauthorised fire. We are not told every detail of what was wrong. Perhaps the coals came from the wrong place. Perhaps it was the wrong time, or the wrong incense, or done on their own impulse. What the text makes clear is simple: God had told the priests exactly how to come near him, and they did something else. And fire comes out from the presence of the LORD, and it consumes them. They die there, before the LORD.

Moses turns to his brother. “This is what the LORD spoke of,” he says. God had said: among those who come near me I will be treated as holy, and before all the people I will be honoured. And Aaron holds his peace. He does not argue. He does not shout. A father who has just lost two sons stands silent before God. Moses calls two of their cousins, Mishael and Elzaphan, and asks them to carry the bodies out of the camp. They lift them, still in their priestly tunics, and carry them away. Then Moses tells Aaron and his two remaining sons that they must not tear their clothes or let their hair hang loose in mourning, and they must not leave the tabernacle. The anointing oil is on them. They are on duty. But the whole house of Israel, Moses says, may weep for the burning the LORD has kindled.

Then something unusual happens. The LORD speaks directly to Aaron, not through Moses. He gives him a command. When you and your sons go into the tent of meeting, do not drink wine or strong drink, so that you do not die. And he explains the reason. The priests must be able to tell the difference between what is holy and what is common, between what is clean and what is unclean. And they must teach the people of Israel all the decrees the LORD has given through Moses. In the middle of Aaron's grief, God does not abandon him. He trusts him with work. Clear heads. Careful hands. Teaching hearts.

Incense in the tabernacle was not ordinary perfume. In Exodus, God gives a precise recipe for it: sweet spices, frankincense, and salt, blended with care. Then he adds a warning. No one was to make that blend for themselves or use it for anything else. It was to be holy to the LORD. Every detail of worship in the tabernacle pointed to one thing. God is holy, and he decides how people come near to him.

Strange fire. You'll find this story in Leviticus chapter ten, verses one to eleven. It is a hard story, and it is meant to be. It reminds us that God is not a game, and that the right way to him is the way he gives. So here is a question to carry with you. What does it mean to take God seriously in the way you worship him?