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Woodburn Baptist Church

The Fire and the Ashes
This is the third message in Pastor Tim's series, visiting the "altar" moments in Scripture to learn what it means to be "living sacrifices." Preached live on Sunday 7 April 2019.
Locations & Times
Woodburn Baptist Church
600 Woodburn Allen Springs Rd, Woodburn, KY 42170, USA
Sunday 8:30 AM
Sunday 9:45 AM
Sunday 11:00 AM
Introduction
Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet, we all just shoulda been big rock stars. They’ve got it made. Have you ever read about their backstage demands (their “tour riders”)? These are the things the artists require concert organizers to provide for them, if they’re gonna come play the gig. I can tell y’all right now, we won’t be getting Madonna. She requires 20 international phone lines and backstage rooms meticulously decorated to look exactly like the inside of her own house. Jay-Z requires 7 separate dressing rooms, so we’re probably not getting him either. Taylor Swift only requires Starbucks, a stick of butter, and 3 boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese, so she’s a maybe.
The most famous of the crazy-sounding tour riders belonged to Van Halen back in the day. They required a backstage bowl of M&Ms with absolutely NO brown M&Ms. If they found a single brown M&M, they’d immediately cancel the show, trash the place, and leave. That makes them sound like spoiled rock stars, but there’s more to it than that. The band had 9 eighteen-wheelers full of equipment and a very extensive set of technical requirements. If the instructions weren’t followed to the exact detail, things could go horribly (even dangerously) wrong. The band didn’t want to have to come in and line-check the entire production. So they’d just come in and check the M&Ms. If the organizers were careful enough to get the M&Ms right, they probably had everything else right, too.
The book of Leviticus reads in places like one of those concert tour riders—a long list of what God requires, if you’re hoping to have him up in your place, or you’re hoping to go up into his place. You and I might argue whether or not being in the presence of Taylor Swift is worth the stick of butter, but I assure you, whatever it takes to be in God’s presence, to be near him, it’s worth it all. Whatever it takes. Today’s passage is just a small bit from the long book of worship instructions given in the book of Leviticus.
Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet, we all just shoulda been big rock stars. They’ve got it made. Have you ever read about their backstage demands (their “tour riders”)? These are the things the artists require concert organizers to provide for them, if they’re gonna come play the gig. I can tell y’all right now, we won’t be getting Madonna. She requires 20 international phone lines and backstage rooms meticulously decorated to look exactly like the inside of her own house. Jay-Z requires 7 separate dressing rooms, so we’re probably not getting him either. Taylor Swift only requires Starbucks, a stick of butter, and 3 boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese, so she’s a maybe.
The most famous of the crazy-sounding tour riders belonged to Van Halen back in the day. They required a backstage bowl of M&Ms with absolutely NO brown M&Ms. If they found a single brown M&M, they’d immediately cancel the show, trash the place, and leave. That makes them sound like spoiled rock stars, but there’s more to it than that. The band had 9 eighteen-wheelers full of equipment and a very extensive set of technical requirements. If the instructions weren’t followed to the exact detail, things could go horribly (even dangerously) wrong. The band didn’t want to have to come in and line-check the entire production. So they’d just come in and check the M&Ms. If the organizers were careful enough to get the M&Ms right, they probably had everything else right, too.
The book of Leviticus reads in places like one of those concert tour riders—a long list of what God requires, if you’re hoping to have him up in your place, or you’re hoping to go up into his place. You and I might argue whether or not being in the presence of Taylor Swift is worth the stick of butter, but I assure you, whatever it takes to be in God’s presence, to be near him, it’s worth it all. Whatever it takes. Today’s passage is just a small bit from the long book of worship instructions given in the book of Leviticus.
Sacred Privilege
Traveling in Peru last month, our group was accompanied by some brilliant young people, who served as our guides and translators. We were staying at a hotel in Chiclayo—a nice hotel by United States standards, a very nice one by Peruvian standards. The first night, we were to have dinner at the hotel restaurant, and everyone was given a little bit of time to go to the room and come back down to eat. When we reconvened outside the restaurant, it was obvious: the United States tourists had used the time to nap or check their phones, the Peruvian guides had gone upstairs and gotten dressed for dinner. At first, I wondered if I had underdressed, or if our young guides knew something I didn’t know. As it turned out, I learned that, for our young Peruvian guides, eating in a restaurant like that at a hotel like that was a very special occasion—and they dressed specially for the occasion. Think about all the special occasions in your own life (formal dances, your wedding, or if you’re from Logan County, the Tobacco Festival). How you dress portrays how you feel about who you’re with and where you are; and some moments are simply not come-as-you-are.
You'll notice that the instructions given in today’s passage are meticulously detailed. These guidelines apply to burnt offerings, and particularly to the priest’s role in tending the altar fire. The priest’s daily morning duty requires him to tend the altar fire, removing the ashes from the altar and depositing them outside the camp. It is a sacred duty with at least 2 obligatory wardrobe changes, more ceremonially choreographed than the changing of the guard at Arlington. It’s a behind-the-scenes deal, the least-favorite part of the priest’s job, sweeping up the black soot while the rest of the world’s watching Good Morning America. Nobody’s around. He could do this whole job in sweat pants, except for these instructions from the God for whom all of this is. They’re his rules. It’s his altar, his fire (it’s even his priest).
This is simply not a come-as-you-are moment. We worship God on his terms not ours. You don’t just bring any old sacrifice and pitch it into any old fire, whenever, wherever, wearing whatever you please. It’s a privilege to be near him, an honor to serve him, even if your job is to push a broom and carry out the bucket of ash. It’s all his, which means it’s all holy—the ashes, the broom, the bucket, the sacred shirt on your back. It’s all holy beyond comprehension, and if you’re blessed to be standing in his presence first thing in the morning without being flattened by his majestic greatness, then you, my friend, are the recipient of grace beyond comprehension. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.
Traveling in Peru last month, our group was accompanied by some brilliant young people, who served as our guides and translators. We were staying at a hotel in Chiclayo—a nice hotel by United States standards, a very nice one by Peruvian standards. The first night, we were to have dinner at the hotel restaurant, and everyone was given a little bit of time to go to the room and come back down to eat. When we reconvened outside the restaurant, it was obvious: the United States tourists had used the time to nap or check their phones, the Peruvian guides had gone upstairs and gotten dressed for dinner. At first, I wondered if I had underdressed, or if our young guides knew something I didn’t know. As it turned out, I learned that, for our young Peruvian guides, eating in a restaurant like that at a hotel like that was a very special occasion—and they dressed specially for the occasion. Think about all the special occasions in your own life (formal dances, your wedding, or if you’re from Logan County, the Tobacco Festival). How you dress portrays how you feel about who you’re with and where you are; and some moments are simply not come-as-you-are.
You'll notice that the instructions given in today’s passage are meticulously detailed. These guidelines apply to burnt offerings, and particularly to the priest’s role in tending the altar fire. The priest’s daily morning duty requires him to tend the altar fire, removing the ashes from the altar and depositing them outside the camp. It is a sacred duty with at least 2 obligatory wardrobe changes, more ceremonially choreographed than the changing of the guard at Arlington. It’s a behind-the-scenes deal, the least-favorite part of the priest’s job, sweeping up the black soot while the rest of the world’s watching Good Morning America. Nobody’s around. He could do this whole job in sweat pants, except for these instructions from the God for whom all of this is. They’re his rules. It’s his altar, his fire (it’s even his priest).
This is simply not a come-as-you-are moment. We worship God on his terms not ours. You don’t just bring any old sacrifice and pitch it into any old fire, whenever, wherever, wearing whatever you please. It’s a privilege to be near him, an honor to serve him, even if your job is to push a broom and carry out the bucket of ash. It’s all his, which means it’s all holy—the ashes, the broom, the bucket, the sacred shirt on your back. It’s all holy beyond comprehension, and if you’re blessed to be standing in his presence first thing in the morning without being flattened by his majestic greatness, then you, my friend, are the recipient of grace beyond comprehension. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.
Perpetual Fire
This fire the priests must attend, it must never go out. What makes it so special? I mean, what if it does burn out? Can’t any boy scout just rub two sticks together and light us a new one? Find you a redneck, they always got lighters. But this is no ordinary fire: it’s the fire of God. God himself lit the fire on his altar. He is the only source of it. He himself sent the fire down from heaven and commanded the priests to tend and keep it. It’s a full-time job, day and night. The fire must never go out.
The same is true for the fire of worship in your own heart. Because of Jesus, the Holy Spirit has set your heart ablaze. You can’t do for yourself what only Jesus can do for you; there’s no other source of spiritual fire, spiritual life. But you have to keep the fire burning every day—not just on Sunday. You must add fuel to the fire—read the word, stay faithful in prayer, practice staying in his presence. The only time you may worship him is always. Anything less is never.
You can’t compartmentalize your life, giving God your church life and assuming the rest of your life is yours to spend all on yourself. This fire must be attended to constantly, never neglected, not even for a moment. It’s the best part about the wardrobe instructions of this text—the way the priest does part of this task in his Sunday suit and the rest of the job in his regular clothes. This is the part of spiritual life that is done away from God’s house, away from the crowd, out there where you live. Your life. The everyday, in your regular clothes, doing the boring stuff, the mundane, the routine motions that add up to days and weeks, months and years. It’s all holy. If you can’t see the mundane as holy, you’re in trouble, because most of your life is mundane. Live your mundane life as if you are doing God’s work, sacred work, because you are.
This fire the priests must attend, it must never go out. What makes it so special? I mean, what if it does burn out? Can’t any boy scout just rub two sticks together and light us a new one? Find you a redneck, they always got lighters. But this is no ordinary fire: it’s the fire of God. God himself lit the fire on his altar. He is the only source of it. He himself sent the fire down from heaven and commanded the priests to tend and keep it. It’s a full-time job, day and night. The fire must never go out.
The same is true for the fire of worship in your own heart. Because of Jesus, the Holy Spirit has set your heart ablaze. You can’t do for yourself what only Jesus can do for you; there’s no other source of spiritual fire, spiritual life. But you have to keep the fire burning every day—not just on Sunday. You must add fuel to the fire—read the word, stay faithful in prayer, practice staying in his presence. The only time you may worship him is always. Anything less is never.
You can’t compartmentalize your life, giving God your church life and assuming the rest of your life is yours to spend all on yourself. This fire must be attended to constantly, never neglected, not even for a moment. It’s the best part about the wardrobe instructions of this text—the way the priest does part of this task in his Sunday suit and the rest of the job in his regular clothes. This is the part of spiritual life that is done away from God’s house, away from the crowd, out there where you live. Your life. The everyday, in your regular clothes, doing the boring stuff, the mundane, the routine motions that add up to days and weeks, months and years. It’s all holy. If you can’t see the mundane as holy, you’re in trouble, because most of your life is mundane. Live your mundane life as if you are doing God’s work, sacred work, because you are.
The Ashes of Yesterday
Worship requires this private duty, to tend the fire first thing every morning, in regular clothes, alone with God. Each new day must start fresh with a heart swept clean, the fire stirred and stoked.
Today’s fire won’t burn under the pile of yesterday’s ashes. You have to sweep clean the altar of your heart. Some things just have to go. What’s left of yesterday? Memories, laughter and tears, sunshine and rain, successes and failures, the embarrassments, the disappointments—it really doesn’t matter. If you cling to the ashes of yesterday’s fire, you’ll never see the blazing wonder of God’s new day.
It’s a lonely task, bittersweet but essential. The ashes remind you of what he did for you yesterday. The fire reminds you that he’s with you today, and you’re with him. Yesterday was his, today is his, tomorrow will be his, too. Every day is holy beyond comprehension, and if you’re blessed to be standing in his presence first thing in the morning without being flattened by his majestic greatness, then you, my friend, are the recipient of grace beyond comprehension. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.
Worship requires this private duty, to tend the fire first thing every morning, in regular clothes, alone with God. Each new day must start fresh with a heart swept clean, the fire stirred and stoked.
Today’s fire won’t burn under the pile of yesterday’s ashes. You have to sweep clean the altar of your heart. Some things just have to go. What’s left of yesterday? Memories, laughter and tears, sunshine and rain, successes and failures, the embarrassments, the disappointments—it really doesn’t matter. If you cling to the ashes of yesterday’s fire, you’ll never see the blazing wonder of God’s new day.
It’s a lonely task, bittersweet but essential. The ashes remind you of what he did for you yesterday. The fire reminds you that he’s with you today, and you’re with him. Yesterday was his, today is his, tomorrow will be his, too. Every day is holy beyond comprehension, and if you’re blessed to be standing in his presence first thing in the morning without being flattened by his majestic greatness, then you, my friend, are the recipient of grace beyond comprehension. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.

Questions for Discussion
1. Describe your morning routine. What household tasks do you believe simply must be done every day? Who does them? What happens if they don't get done?
2. The instructions in today's passage pertain to the ashes left from burnt offerings. Review the guidelines for bringing a burnt offering in Leviticus 1:3-9. Why must the animal be without defect? Why does the worshiper lay hands on the animal? Who actually holds the blade and performs the slaughter? With other sacrifices, the worshiper and the priest could expect to share in a portion of the roasted meat. What's different about the burnt offering (1:9)?
3. This passage emphasizes that the fire on the Lord's altar must never go out (6:9 & 13). Why is the altar fire so ultimately important (cf 9:22-24)? How do you keep the spiritual fire in your own heart burning? When have you thought your fire for God might almost die out? How did the Spirit rekindle the flame?
4. Describe the daily morning routine for the priest on duty. Why must he not appear before the altar in anything other than his priestly garments (and undergarments)? Why is he forbidden to wear his priestly garments outside, even for a moment? Why do passages like this put so many restrictions on the who, what, when, and where of genuine worship? Pastor Tim says, "We worship God on his terms not ours." What does he mean?
5. What are the "mundane" aspects of your life? How much of your life would you classify as "mundane"? In those moments, does it feel like you're doing sacred work? Explain what Pastor Tim means when he says, "If you can't see the mundane as holy, you're in trouble, because most of your life is mundane." Is there any part of your life that you don't consider spiritual? What's the danger of compartmentalizing your life into "spiritual" and "non-spiritual" categories?
6. What would happen, if the priest left yesterday's ashes on the altar? Why is it important that the ashes not simply be swept up and thrown out like any other dust (11)? Pastor Tim makes the ashes in the text to symbolize what might be left of yesterday in our own hearts and minds. What kinds of things do we allow to accumulate like ash around the fire in our lives? Is it harder for you to let go of happy things or sad things? What does it mean when Pastor Tim says, "If you cling to the ashes of yesterday's fire, you'll never see the blazing wonder of God's new day"?
7. What must you remove in order to start tomorrow "fresh with a heart swept clean"? What habits help you stir and stoke the spiritual fire in your own life? How can the group help you prepare for the new blessings tomorrow will bring?
1. Describe your morning routine. What household tasks do you believe simply must be done every day? Who does them? What happens if they don't get done?
2. The instructions in today's passage pertain to the ashes left from burnt offerings. Review the guidelines for bringing a burnt offering in Leviticus 1:3-9. Why must the animal be without defect? Why does the worshiper lay hands on the animal? Who actually holds the blade and performs the slaughter? With other sacrifices, the worshiper and the priest could expect to share in a portion of the roasted meat. What's different about the burnt offering (1:9)?
3. This passage emphasizes that the fire on the Lord's altar must never go out (6:9 & 13). Why is the altar fire so ultimately important (cf 9:22-24)? How do you keep the spiritual fire in your own heart burning? When have you thought your fire for God might almost die out? How did the Spirit rekindle the flame?
4. Describe the daily morning routine for the priest on duty. Why must he not appear before the altar in anything other than his priestly garments (and undergarments)? Why is he forbidden to wear his priestly garments outside, even for a moment? Why do passages like this put so many restrictions on the who, what, when, and where of genuine worship? Pastor Tim says, "We worship God on his terms not ours." What does he mean?
5. What are the "mundane" aspects of your life? How much of your life would you classify as "mundane"? In those moments, does it feel like you're doing sacred work? Explain what Pastor Tim means when he says, "If you can't see the mundane as holy, you're in trouble, because most of your life is mundane." Is there any part of your life that you don't consider spiritual? What's the danger of compartmentalizing your life into "spiritual" and "non-spiritual" categories?
6. What would happen, if the priest left yesterday's ashes on the altar? Why is it important that the ashes not simply be swept up and thrown out like any other dust (11)? Pastor Tim makes the ashes in the text to symbolize what might be left of yesterday in our own hearts and minds. What kinds of things do we allow to accumulate like ash around the fire in our lives? Is it harder for you to let go of happy things or sad things? What does it mean when Pastor Tim says, "If you cling to the ashes of yesterday's fire, you'll never see the blazing wonder of God's new day"?
7. What must you remove in order to start tomorrow "fresh with a heart swept clean"? What habits help you stir and stoke the spiritual fire in your own life? How can the group help you prepare for the new blessings tomorrow will bring?
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