The Better Scapegoat

Forgiveness becomes more meaningful when we see what sin costs and what it means for its burden to be removed. Leviticus 16 gives Israel a vivid picture of both. On the Day of Atonement, the high priest stood before God on behalf of an unclean people. Two goats were presented, but their roles were different. One died as a sin offering. The other remained alive and was sent away. Together, the scene prepared readers to appreciate the greater work that Jesus would accomplish.

Leviticus 16:5–10 introduces the goats and the casting of lots. In verses 15–17, blood from the slain goat is brought inside the veil as part of the work of atonement. Then, in verses 20–22, Aaron confesses Israel’s iniquities over the living goat and sends it into the wilderness. The animal bears those iniquities away from the people. Whatever questions surround the Hebrew term sometimes translated “scapegoat,” the action described in the passage is clear: God provided a picture of guilt being carried away.

The sermon draws attention to three parts of that scene: the high priest, the goat that dies, and the goat that lives. Jesus is not merely an improvement in one part of the picture. His saving work brings those themes together. Hebrews 9:11–12 presents Him as the High Priest who entered the greater sanctuary through His own blood, obtaining eternal redemption. Aaron needed cleansing himself and brought the blood of an animal. Our sinless Savior represents His people through a sacrifice no other priest could offer.

Jesus is also the offering. Hebrews 10:10–12 directs us to the body of Jesus Christ, offered once for all. The priest and the sacrifice are united in Him: He offers Himself. His death was real, costly, and sufficient; it was not a symbolic performance. The sermon then connects the living goat’s picture of removal with the risen Christ. Jesus died and now lives. That comparison helps us appreciate His victory without suggesting that every detail of the ancient ceremony has an identical New Testament counterpart.

Imagine watching the priest represent your family, seeing the sacrifice made, and seeing the living goat depart with the burden of sins confessed over it. Such a scene would demand more than a passing acknowledgment. It would call for reverence, gratitude, and a different way of living. The same questions belong before us when we remember Jesus. Do we recognize the depth of our need? Do we value His willingness to represent us? Do we carry our gratitude beyond the moment of remembrance?

The Lord’s Supper directs our attention to the body and blood of the Savior who died and rose again. We remember a living Lord, not merely a moving story from the past. The right response is neither careless repetition nor the assumption that forgiveness makes obedience unnecessary. His grace calls us into faithful service. As we return to our homes, conversations, and responsibilities, let the memory of His sacrifice shape our choices. The One who bore our sins is worthy of a life that honors Him.