Ever since I became a father, there are certain portions of Scripture that just hit different this time through the the Bible.
The scene of Nadab and Abihu’s death in Leviticus 10 is one of them. As horrific as the moment must’ve been for those two men to realize their fatal error just as the judgment of God swept down on them, it must’ve been equally horrendous for Aaron, who had to watch his sons die right in front of him.
And to make it even more difficult, Aaron isn’t really even allowed to mourn their deaths.
To be fair, he’s not ever explicitly told to “hold his peace,” but in the face of their crimes, weeping for their deaths would’ve been an affront to God. After all, his sons were killed for profaning the Tabernacle. Aaron can’t be seen to sympathize with something like that.
But that doesn’t mean he didn’t mourn his children’s death. What father wouldn’t? His mind knows that what his sons did was wrong, but his heart most likely yearned for his children, just as David’s heart would for Absalom.
The emotion is there. Later in Leviticus 10, Aaron is told to offer the sin sacrifice, which he does, but then refuses to eat the portion that is reserved for the priests, choosing to burnt it instead.
This is in direct violation of the commandment of God—a bold move (to put it mildly) in the face of watching his sons die for breaking the commandment of God just that very morning.
Aaron explains to Moses that he did offer the sacrifice for the people as commanded, but since he had just watched his sons die, he didn’t feel it appropriate to join in the celebratory part of the sacrifice. His heart wasn’t in it, as we would say today. What is there for him to celebrate?
Moses accepts this rationale and moves on, but we’re still left with the grief of a father who is torn between two worlds: the reality of losing two children in the blink of an eye, and the high priest who is responsible for leading millions in worship. How do you reconcile these two halves of the same person?
I’m not sure how I would’ve reacted in this situation, but it looks like from the Text that Aaron picked up his mantle and moved forward. He held his peace after watching Nadab and Abihu die, not because he didn’t mourn them, but because he valued the holiness of God as greater than everything else.
This is what was meant by Jesus in Matthew 10:37: “…He who loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me.” It’s not that we hate our children—absolutely far from it—but that we love God more. And if we love our children as we should, we’ll do everything we can to help them love God to the same degree.
