Here we find atonement, in its two grand aspects, as the only ground on which the Nazarite could be restored to communion. He had contracted defilement, and that defilement could only be removed by the blood of the sacrifice. We might deem it a very trifling matter to touch a dead body, and particularly under such circumstances. It might be said, How could he help touching it, when the man had suddenly dropped dead by his side? To all this the reply is at once simple and solemn. God’s Nazarites must maintain personal purity; and, moreover, the standard by which their purity is to be regulated is not human, but divine. The mere touch of death was sufficient to break the link of communion; and had the Nazarite presumed to go on as though nothing had happened, he would have been flying in the face of God’s commandments, and bringing down heavy judgment upon himself. But, blessed be God, grace had made provision. There was the burnt-offering—the type of the death of Christ to Godward; there was the sin-offering—the type of that same death to usward; and there was the trespass-offering—the type of the death of Christ, not only in its application to the root or principle of sin in the nature, but also to the actual sin committed. In a word, it needed the full virtue of the death of Christ to remove the defilement caused by the simple touch of a dead body. This is peculiarly solemnizing. Sin is a dreadful thing in God’s sight—most dreadful. A single sinful thought, a sinful look, a sinful word, is enough to bring a dark, heavy cloud over the soul, which will hide from our view the light of God’s countenance, and plunge us into deep distress and misery. Let us, then, beware how we trifle with sin. Let us remember that ere one stain of the guilt of sin—even the very smallest—could be removed, the blessed Lord Jesus Christ had to pass through all the unutterable horrors of Calvary. That intensely bitter cry, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” is the only thing that can give us any proper idea of what sin is; and into the profound depths of that cry no mortal or angel can ever enter. But though we can never fathom the mysterious depths of the sufferings of Christ, we should at least seek to meditate more habitually upon His cross and passion, and, in this way, reach a much deeper view of the awfulness of sin in the sight of God. If, indeed, sin was so dreadful, so abhorrent to a holy God, that He was constrained to turn away the light of His countenance from that blessed One who had dwelt in His bosom from all eternity; if He had to forsake Him because He was bearing sin in His own body on the tree, then what must sin be?