BURNT || THE SACRED CENTER OF CHRIST'S HEART
BURNT: The Sacred Center of Christ
Leviticus 1
“All the offerings taken together give us a full view of Christ—as many mirrors arranged to reflect in various ways the figure of that true and perfect sacrifice.”
—C.H.M. (C.H. Mackintosh)
A Story of Pure Devotion
My mind recalls a young, dark-haired Canadian girl, whose beauty lay not so much in her features as in the quiet creativity of her words. She was a writer of poetry and prose, able to describe a moment with the grace of a Victorian novelist.
My eyes would often drift to the tattered journal she carried—the weight of it owed not to its binding, but to the sheer volume of ink pressed upon its pages. She never parted with it. Its contents, I am certain, were treasures untold.
One random Saturday turned quietly unforgettable when I asked why she had left her cherished treasury behind.
“I burnt it,” she said.
I gasped at the waste. “Why?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“Some things,” she whispered, “are for Him alone.”
The hours, thoughts, pains, sorrows, joys, and life lessons she penned rose to His eyes alone. Her ink became incense. Her intent was to give her most cherished work to Him—and this, she did.
What Is Burnt Is Gone
When something is truly burnt, it passes beyond possession.
It can no longer be handled, owned, or used.
It is consumed.
Surrendered to the flame, it becomes smoke ascending, curling upward—
beyond the reach of man,
beyond sight of man,
beyond the control of man.
It cannot be claimed by anyone but the heavens to which it ascends.
This fully and finally.
The Burnt Offering
Such is the burnt offering of old.
It is an offering for God alone.
Unlike the other sacrifices, it is laid upon the stones for one purpose only: to rise to God.
It is the first of the offerings described in Leviticus.
When the animal is burnt, it passes beyond possession.
It can no longer be handled, owned, or used.
It is consumed.
Surrendered to the altar, it has become smoke—ascending, curling upward—
beyond the reach of man,
beyond the sight of man,
beyond the control of man.
It cannot be claimed by anyone but the God to whom it ascends—fully and finally.
Christ, the Sacred Burnt Offering
This is a divine type and shadow, revealing to us the sacred center of Christ’s heart—
the sacred center of His manifold sacrifice.
When Christ was laid on the altar of the cross,
He could no longer be handled, owned, or used.
He was, in a real sense, consumed by death.
Surrendered to God, He became a sweet-smelling savor, curling upward—
beyond the reach of man,
beyond the sight of man,
beyond the control of man.
He could be claimed by none but His Father,
to whom He ascended fully and finally.
Christ, the final burnt offering—an obedience to God, just for God.
Ephesians 5:2 — “…a sacrifice to God.”
Commentary from the Saints
C.H. Mackintosh writes:
“It was exclusively for God. God alone was the object of Christ in the burnt offering aspect of His death.”
“Here is the deep-toned devotion of the heart of the Son presented to, and appreciated by, the heart of the Father.”
In the burnt offering, Christ’s charms shine bright through His unshakable devotion to His Father.
Spurgeon notes:
“The burnt offering was all for God. So was Christ. His death was above all things God-ward.”
The Holy Spirit reveals to us in this shadow that Christ loved the Father before the church.
What excellency!
What beauty and perfection!
Surely His love to the Father is sufficient to rouse love in our hearts.
Mackintosh continues:
“The true believer finds in the cross that which captivates every affection of his heart…
There are heights and depths in the doctrine of the cross which man never could reach.”
Christ’s Willing Offering
The offering of Himself to His Father was voluntary.
He was not forced or coerced.
He revealed:
“No one takes My life from Me. I lay it down of My own initiative.” (John 10:18)
Matthew Henry writes:
“Voluntary. What is done in religion, so as to please God, must be done by no other constraint than that of love.”
His offering was not laborious duty but loving devotion.
The World Sees Waste—Heaven Sees Worship
The natural mind calls this—not cooked but burnt—a waste.
But Christ’s loving devotion to His Father transforms what the natural man sees as waste into worship.
John 14:31 — “So that the world will know that I love the Father.”
The sacred center of His sacrifice was this public display of affectionate devotion to His Father.
He didn’t merely accept God’s will—it was His intention, His motive, His reason.
(See Hebrews 10:5–10; John 6:38–39; 10:17–18; Luke 22:42)
John Owen describes it:
“The free act of love to the Father.”
Spurgeon echoes:
“He came not with sigh but a song to do His Father’s will.”
Owen again:
“The greatest demonstration of the love of Christ unto the Father is His giving Himself up to the death of the cross, to manifest what love and accomplish His will.”
The Burnt Sacrifice Was Innocent
The burnt sacrifice, as the chapter foreshadows, had to be an innocent other.
Christ was not only innocent—oh, much more—He was without defect.
He fit the foreshadow perfectly.
He alone is clean inside and out.
Mackintosh:
“No one had ever perfectly, invariably, from first to last, without hesitation, without divergence, done the will of God.”
“It was no surface work with Him…
The more the depths of His being were explored, the more clearly was it manifest that pure devotion to the will of the Father…”
Every Part of Him Aflame
I mean to exalt Christ’s burning love for God and His voluntary offering of Himself to God alone as the sacred center of our revelation of what Christ is actually like.
Every part of Him aflame to God.
Oh, how unlike us is Christ.
By this, we know what love for God looks like: the surrender of our whole selves.
Romans 12:1 — “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God,
to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God,
which is your spiritual worship.”
Though our love is but the flicker of a faint flame, His sacred center quickens our hearts.
For He exemplifies a love that stands apart from all others—ascending to God in fragrant flame.
No portion eaten.
No fragment withheld.
No part left over.
Every sinew of His sacred humanity—thoughts, deeds, motives, breath, blood—
all offered up to God.
A Few Notes from Leviticus 1
The offering was made morning and evening.
He is this both day and night. In the noonday sun and in the blackest night.
No shade of life would alter His surrender.
The offering could be an ox or a bird.
He is this in the great and the small.
No action was too small to be wholly surrendered to God.
The bird was plucked and unsevered.
Christ had His beard plucked in mockery—and yet His divinity was never severed from His humanity.
He died as the God-Man.
The sinner laid his hand upon the sacrifice, symbolizing imparted guilt and acknowledgment of deserved death.
A foreshadow of the One upon whom the Lord laid the iniquity of us all (Isaiah 53).
The Subtle Trap of Looking to Ourselves
Henry Martyn, a missionary to India, once wrote that when he tried to find comfort by examining his life and searching for evidences of grace, he actually lost the brokenness of spirit he longed to keep.
The more he looked to himself, the less he could rest simply at the foot of the cross.
Many of us try to find peace by measuring our own faithfulness:
Have I prayed enough?
Have I served enough?
Have I conquered this sin consistently?
We think that if we can point to enough evidence of our devotion, we will feel secure.
But here is the irony: the more we look to our own performance, the more we lose humility, dependence, and the sweetness of simple trust in Jesus.
It is a subtle trap. Even good things—prayer, ministry, obedience—can become props we lean on to feel worthy, rather than gifts that flow from grace.
Martyn only found peace when he stopped searching for comfort in himself and began to pray as a dying man—helpless and needy—resting on Christ alone.
This is the lesson:
Our comfort never comes from our own faithfulness,
but from Christ’s faithfulness for us.
Brokenness of spirit and assurance of love thrive best when we lay aside self-scrutiny and fix our gaze on the cross.
Christ in the Burnt Offering
As a burnt ox – He gave all His strength and labor to God.
As a burnt sheep – He meekly followed God to death, patient and quiet in suffering.
As a burnt goat – Though sinless, He was thought to be a sinner, sent in the likeness of sinful flesh.
As a burnt dove – He was pure, single-eyed, plucked, unsevered, and holy.
The Preacher’s Duty
The priests were to arrange the wood and position the sacrifice.
John Gill sees this as a type of the preacher’s duty:
“Evidence given of Him in the gospel, in which He is clearly set forth in His person, nature, and offices.”
Trapp agrees:
“The minister must rightly divide and dispose the Word of God, and evidently set forth Christ crucified.”
Trapp also writes of the fire consuming the sacrifice:
“Typifying the scorching wrath of God upon Christ—or the ardent love of Christ to God.”
The Sweet-Smelling Savor
In all this, we see the “sweet-smelling savor unto God.”
Christ as the burnt offering: the perfect Man, without defect, pure in and out, in action and thought, motive and deed, great and small—voluntarily offering Himself in love and devotion to His Father.
To miss this is to reduce the gospel to a scheme for man's relief.
If we fail to see this, we are but a step away from shaping the gospel into a man-centered escape plan, robbing God of His rightful glory in the work of His Son.
Spurgeon wrote:
“Christ did not die out of mere pity for man, but first of all out of love for the Father.”
The salvation of man was the love song of the Son to the Father.
Three Effects on My Soul
Adoration of such a lovely individual
A desire to receive Him as my own
A longing to surrender myself
As Matthew Poole writes:
“To serve the Lord with all singleness of heart, without self-ends, and to be ready to offer to God wherein we ourselves should have no benefit.”
God has graciously met our need—
and may He give us an enlarged capacity to enter into and enjoy His provision.
South Africa