A shadow of the Christ to come
The Day of Atonement and the Scapegoat
Once a year, on the holiest day in Israel's calendar, the whole nation held its breath. On the Day of Atonement, described in the sixteenth chapter of Leviticus, the high priest laid aside his ornate garments, washed, and dressed in plain linen. Alone he would pass behind the veil into the most holy place, where no one else could go, carrying blood into the presence of God to cover the sins of the people. Two goats stood ready. One was slain, its blood sprinkled on the mercy seat. Over the other the priest confessed the sins of the nation, laying them symbolically on its head, and the animal was driven away into the wilderness, carrying that guilt out of sight. It was a day of solemn dread and deep relief, the day sin was covered and sent away.
“And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited: and he shall let go the goat in the wilderness.”Leviticus 16:22
“Neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.”Hebrews 9:12
“So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation.”Hebrews 9:28
The shadow, in its own place
The Day of Atonement was the center of Israel's worship life, a real and appointed ordinance. On that day the accumulated sins of the whole community, known and unknown, were dealt with before God. The high priest bore the danger of entering the innermost place, where the glory dwelt above the ark; a single failure in reverence could cost his life. The blood of the slain goat spoke of a life given in place of the guilty. The second goat, the scapegoat, carried the confessed sins far away, a vivid picture of guilt removed from the camp. The people fasted and rested and afflicted their souls. For that year, atonement was made, and the fellowship between a holy God and His people was preserved.
The pattern it traces
Two movements combine here into one shape of atonement: a life given, and guilt carried away. The slain goat answers the demand that sin be judged, that a death stands in the sinner's place. The scapegoat answers the longing that guilt be truly gone, removed so far it cannot return to accuse. Together they show that forgiveness is costly and complete, both paid for and taken away. Yet the very repetition betrays the limit. The ritual had to be done every year, again and again, because the blood of animals could quiet the conscience only for a season. The pattern of the once-yearly entrance and the two goats reaches forward, asking for a priest and a sacrifice that need never be repeated.
How it is fulfilled in Christ
Hebrews takes up this day and shows Christ at its center. In its ninth chapter it declares that Christ came as a high priest of good things to come, and entered not an earthly tent but heaven itself, not with the blood of goats and calves but with His own blood, obtaining eternal redemption once for all. He is both priest and offering. Like the slain goat, He gave His life to answer sin's judgment; like the scapegoat, He bore our sins away, and the same chapter says He appeared once to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself, and will appear a second time for those who wait for Him. The yearly dread is ended. The veil is opened. Atonement is finished, complete, and never to be repeated.
Questions people ask
Why were there two goats instead of one?
The two goats together picture one atonement from two angles. The slain goat shows that sin must be judged, a life given in place of the guilty. The living goat, sent into the wilderness bearing the confessed sins, shows that guilt is carried completely away. Neither alone tells the whole story; Christ fulfills both, dying in our place and removing our sin.
If atonement was made every year, did it actually work?
It was a real ordinance that God gave and honored, maintaining Israel's fellowship with Him. But Hebrews explains that animal blood could not finally cleanse the conscience, which is why it had to be repeated yearly. Those sacrifices pointed forward to Christ, whose single offering accomplishes what the yearly ritual could only foreshadow.