Cursed be the cheat who has a male in his flock, and vows it, and yet sacrifices to the Lord what is blemished. For I am a great King, says the Lord of hosts, and my name will be feared among the nations.
Malachi 1:14 ESV
Back in the Old Testament days, there were all kinds of sacrifices that were offered. What this passage is talking about, though, is a sacrifice given to fulfill a vow. Here is one verse that talks about these kinds of sacrifices.
Deuteronomy 23:21-23
“When you make a vow to the Lord your God, you shall not delay to pay it, for it would be sin in you, and the Lord your God will surely require it of you. However, if you refrain from vowing, it would not be sin to you. You shall be careful to perform what goes out from your lips, just as you have voluntarily vowed to the Lord your God, what you have promised."
So a vow was where you asked God for help and then promised that you would give Him a sacrifice if He helped you. I know I've made plenty of vows in my lifetime; that's why I don't have any sheep. But the vows were totally voluntary. Unlike so many of the sacrifices in ancient Israel, you didn't have to make a vow if you didn't want to. That's why God says, "If you refrain from vowing, it would not be sin to you." However, if you do make a vow, He expects you to keep it. Do "not delay to pay it, for it would be sin in you, and the Lord your God will surely require it of you."
But people always try to find loopholes, as we see in Malachi. The people knew they had to keep their vows, but they thought they would pull a fast one on God. They promised to give God an unblemished, male sheep (which is a double big deal because a sheep being unblemished is really valuable, but it being a male is even more valuable because those are your money makers), so they promised an unblemished, male sheep—in other words, the best that they had in their flock. When it came to pay up and give God the sacrifice, though, they did indeed give a sheep, but they did not give their unblemished male, the best of the best. They gave a second-rate, blemished animal. It might have still been valuable, but it was not the costly sacrifice they had promised. And when God calls them out on their shenanigans, they're all like, "What? What did we do?" And God responds, "You know what you did. Would this sacrifice be acceptable to anyone else after you had promised them the best? How much more, then, do I deserve?"
The Israelites had lost sight of the glory and majesty of God. The Lord even tells them that in verse 6 of chapter 1. He says, "Fathers deserve honor and Masters deserve to be feared. If I am your Father, where is my honor? If I am your Master, where is my reverence?" Instead of approaching the King of all the earth with reverence and respect and joyfully giving the best of their flock, the giving of sacrifices to the Lord had become something common to them. Instead of their sacrifice being a result of the overflow of their heart and the intentional surrender of their best to God, it became a ritual to be fulfilled so that they could get on with their lives. They felt that they no longer had to give their best, they just had to give.
In 2 Samuel chapter 24, the Lord sent a plague on the nation of Israel because of a sin that David committed. And the Lord tells David through the prophet Gad to go build an altar on the property owned by a man named Auranah the Jebusite. As David is walking up to the man's house, Araunah sees the king coming and goes and falls on his face before David and says, "Why has my lord the king come to his servant?" David told him that he needed to build an altar on his property and Araunah responded, "Let my Lord the king take and offer up what seems good to him. Here are the oxen for the burnt offering and the threshing sledges and the yokes of the oxen for the wood." So Araunah is giving David everything he needs for the sacrifice: here's my oxen and here's all the wood you will need; take it, I freely give it, it's yours. But David, despite all his character flaws and shortcomings, was a man of integrity, a man of honor, a man who had surrendered his entire life to his God. So when Araunah offered him all this, David responded, "No, I will buy it all from you. I will not offer [a sacrifice] to the Lord my God that cost me nothing.”
David knew something that the future generations of Israel had forgotten: following God is supposed to be costly. God has never been vague on that point. All throughout the Old Testament, God has consistently demanded that His people give up control of what is valuable in their lives: the firstborn, the first fruits, the first part of their income, that which was best, unblemished, and highly desired. And when Jesus came, He didn't make it any easier—He actually upped the ante. He said you cannot be My disciple unless you give up everything, unless you hate your father and mother and brother and sister and even your own life, unless you take up your cross and die to yourself, unless you commit your life to My glory and My kingdom. Jesus Himself held nothing back. "Father, if it is possible, take this cup from Me. Yet not My will, but Yours be done." Jesus did not give a sacrifice that cost Him nothing. True faith requires sacrifice.
And Is this not what the New Testament continues to affirm? I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live. I want to know Christ and the fellowship of His suffering. For we are always carrying about in our bodies the dying of the Lord Jesus. I count all things as loss for the excellence of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ. You are not your own, you are bought at a price. Present your bodies as a living sacrifice.
Present your bodies. No longer are the sacrifices other things. No longer is a lamb taking your place. THE Lamb has taken your place on the altar and bids you to come and do the same. Not to atone for your sins, but to follow Him. The seed of faith can only flourish in the soil of sacrificial obedience. Faith that costs nothing is not true faith. One commentator put it this way, "He who has a religion that costs him nothing, has a religion that is worth nothing." The Lord of Hosts, the Creator of all the Universe is not so shallow that He can be pleased with an offering that is half on the altar and half in your hands. When He asks us to follow Him He will not be satisfied with a shrug of the shoulders and a weak acknowledgement that we will follow Him and see how it goes, as long as it doesn't get too hard or too costly or too inconvenient or too involved or too uncertain or too painful. When we decide to follow Him, it is all or nothing. Everything you have, everything you are, your desires, your emotions, your decisions, your strength, your weakness, your family, your job, your money, your education, your retirement, all of it. When you decide to follow Jesus, He looks you in the eyes and says, "I get it all. Cursed be the person who promises me their all and then gives me half of their heart. For I am a great King and My name will be feared." To which we respond on bended knee, "So be it, Lord. I will not give a sacrifice that costs me nothing."
Present your bodies as a living sacrifice… I will not give myself if it costs me nothing. I am the sacrifice. Each day is an altar. What will I do? Will I put a foot on the altar while at the same time hold on to the arms of safety and security? Will I step tentatively onto the altar, ready to jump off at the first sign of loneliness, doubt, sickness, or poverty? Will I declare my willingness to give myself over to the all consuming fire of God while I'm seated in the chair of convenience and self-preservation?
Let me tell you the story of Telemachus. The Colosseum and the gladiatorial games had been decreasing in popularity in the Roman empire years before it ended, but no one could seem to shut it down. Telemachus was a Christian, and he was deeply troubled by the senseless violence of the Colosseum. One day, he decided that he could not sit idly by, he had had enough of simply shouting out his protests, so he stood up, ran down the steps of the Colosseum, entered the arena, and came between the gladiators, begging for the people to end the cycle of madness. In response, the crowd ignored his plea and stoned him to death, and the sand that lined the floor of the Colosseum, the sand that was intended to soak up the blood of its victims, soaked up the blood of Telemachus. He had seemingly accomplished nothing and appeared to have sacrificed his life in vain. What neither he nor the crowds could have anticipated, though, was that the Emperor would hear of his heroism and, finally, once and for all, put an end to the games.
Will we step into the Colosseum? Will we waste our lives for Christ? Will we step into the sand knowing that it could be our blood that wets it next? Will we heed the call of Christ to forsake all and follow Him? Each day He bids us come and die. Each day He beckons us to step into the arena with Him. Regardless of whether it makes sense. Regardless of whether it seems beneficial. Regardless of whether it will make a difference. Regardless of whether I am healthy or wealthy or comfortable. Those things are not my focus. The possible outcomes of obedience do not determine whether or not I should be obedient. I walk in the face of death, self-denial, humiliation, and servitude not because I’m following my heart, not because it will make me feel good, not because I need to be true to myself, but I set my face like a flint and I walk down the steps into the arena because that is what Christ has done for me, and He is worthy of every single drop of blood, sweat, and tears. I am not my own, I have been bought at a price. Christ is our focus. His glory. His will. If I go to college, it is for Christ. If I'm at work, it's for Christ. If I'm dating, it's for Christ. If I'm a parent or a spouse, it's for Christ. I will step into the Colosseum in every area of my life, both feet planted firmly on the sand, dead to myself, living for Jesus, whether the crowd cheers for me or stones me, whether I see the results of my obedience or it seems that all my efforts have been in vain, no matter what I am His. With every fiber of my being and every beat of my heart, I am His. Because I will not give a sacrifice that costs me nothing.
So I say this to all of you as much as myself: Wherever He leads, step into the Colosseum and lay yourself on the altar. There is none more eternally worthy of your life than our Lord. There is nothing that you can give up or endure in this life that you will regret when you reach eternity. In fact, when you finally see Jesus face to face, you will wish with your whole heart that you had given more. Let me leave you with the words of Jim Elliott, a missionary who was speared to death, "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."
