Day 55

Leviticus 20-21 | John 1:1-18 | Psalm 24

Twenty-one chapters into Leviticus, and I’ll be honest—I’m growing tired of all the law. The rules. The regulations. The constant and continual reminders.

But isn’t that the point?

Leviticus 20 opens with a single word that jumps off the page:

“Again.”

“Again, you shall say to the children of Israel…” (Leviticus 20:2)

Because they still don’t get it. Because they keep doing the same thing—over and over and over again.

And I get that too.

Because there’s a new child in our home.

A Cycle That Won’t Stop

This little Labrador is sweet, and we love her, but she’s a child. And no matter how many times I tell her “Leave it,” she keeps sneaking behind the couch to gnaw on the phone charger cable.

She doesn’t know what I know. She doesn’t see what I see. That what she’s choosing, over and over, could bring great harm to her.

So I tell her. Again.

And the cycle continues.

Again.

And again.

And again.

But isn’t that so reflective of my own life?

Forty-three years old. A grown man. And still falling into the same sins, the same weaknesses, the same failures. Still needing the same reminders from God.

Again.

Unworthy of the Priesthood—But Welcomed by Grace

Leviticus 21:17-19 is where the weight of the law hits even harder:

“Whoever has a defect shall not approach…” and includes in that list is “a man who has a broken hand.” (Leviticus 21:17,19)

If I lived under the old covenant, I would be disqualified from the priesthood. Cast aside because of my defect. Marked as unworthy because of my broken, mangled hand.

And here’s the truth: even if my hand were whole, I would still be unworthy.

Because the law never stops showing me what I lack.

Even the small things remind me.

I’m a guy who loves to write in my Bible. I fill the margins with sermon notes, with prayers, with thoughts that strike me as I read. And I underline everything.

But now? My penmanship is horrible. My underlines end up more like strikethroughs. My notes are barely legible.

Even in something as small as handwriting, I see it—I am not what I used to be. I feel it every time my pen stumbles across the page.

So thank God He sent His Son to fulfill the law—because I could never do it on my own.

The Law Exposes. The Word Redeems.

John 1:1-18 is the light breaking through the heaviness of Leviticus.

“For the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.” (John 1:17)

Leviticus keeps saying again because the law alone never changes the heart. It exposes. It condemns. It shows me I can never be whole enough, good enough, worthy enough.

But then comes Christ.

The One who fulfilled the law I could never keep.

The One who carried the sin I could never erase.

And when He says ‘again,’ it’s not to condemn, but to invite—to grace, to mercy, to Himself.

Again, He forgives.

Again, He restores.

Again, He meets me in my weakness and calls me His own.

Because while I would have been unqualified for the priesthood—Christ, my Great High Priest, has qualified me through His blood.

And that changes everything.

A King Worthy of Our Worship

“Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart…” (Psalm 24:3-4)

I don’t have clean hands.

I don’t have a pure heart.

But Christ does.

And He ascended the hill in my place.

The law showed me how far I fall short. The cross showed me how far Christ was willing to go.

And He went there for me.

Lord, I fall into the same sins again and again. Yet You meet me with grace again and again. Thank You that my worth is not in my ability to obey, but in the finished work of Christ. Keep reminding me. Keep restoring me. Keep making me whole. Amen.

P.S. As I wrote this post, I couldn’t help but think of Jeremy Camp’s song on the same notion. It’s a powerful reminder that no matter how many times we fall, fail, or need His mercy—His grace and mercy never run out. Click here to listen to it on YouTube.