When Fire Falls and Sheets Unfold: A Mystery in Shemini

 photo by Nigel Hoare

By Brenda J. Johnson – Living Hebrew Letters Blog

This week, we step into Parashat Shemini—Leviticus 9 through 11. It’s a portion full of wonder, grief, fire, and mystery. And if we’re listening closely, it carries a whisper that reaches all the way into the book of Acts.

Let’s begin in the Mishkan, where the glory of ADONAI is about to appear before the people. The offerings have been prepared, Aaron has stepped into his new role as high priest, and the people are expectant. Then, fire falls from heaven and consumes the burnt offering—a clear sign that ADONAI has accepted it. What a moment of awe!

But then comes a sudden, painful shift.

Nadav and Avihu, Aaron’s sons, step forward with incense and “strange fire.” And in a moment that leaves us breathless, they too are consumed. Why? Why now?

These weren’t rebellious outsiders. These were priests, sons of Aaron, men who had stood on Mt. Sinai with the seventy elders and seen the glory of God. They had once dined with ADONAI. But even then, they were told to remain at a distance. Perhaps the fire in their hearts this day burned too fast, too soon. Perhaps they were hungry for a closeness that had to be received, not taken.

Sometimes love without order can still be out of order.

And Aaron? Silent.

Two sons gone. No words.

Later, when the time comes for him and his remaining sons to eat the sin offering as commanded, they just… can’t. The grief is too much. They’ve done what they could. But their humanity is laid bare. And Moses, seeing it, doesn’t rebuke. He lets it rest.

It reminds me of Yeshua, kneeling in the garden before His betrayal.

“If there’s any way for this cup to pass from Me…”

But it didn’t. And He walked through the fire for the sake of the world.

Maybe Aaron’s burnt offering that day wasn’t just obedience—it was a cry of grief. A release of the unbearable weight.

And then… Chapter 11.

We shift into clean and unclean animals. Dietary instructions that feel so physical, but are actually a call to intimacy. “Be holy, for I am holy.”

We don’t keep kosher just to follow rules. We keep it because holiness touches every part of life—even what we eat. It’s an invitation to come close, to walk in rhythm with the HOLY ONE.

And now, enter Peter.

Acts 10: He’s on a rooftop, praying. He falls into a trance. A sheet comes down, filled with animals—unclean ones. And a voice says, “Rise, Peter. Kill and eat.”

Peter, like Aaron’s sons, is no stranger to the presence of God. But he’s confused. “I have never eaten anything unclean!”

And then the Spirit speaks: “What God has made clean, do not call common.”

But Peter knows—it’s not about food.

Moments later, he’s invited into the home of a Gentile, Cornelius. That’s the meaning of the vision. Peter says it himself:

“God has shown me that I should not call any man unholy or unclean.” (Acts 10:28)

The vision wasn’t a revocation of kosher laws. It was a revelation that the fire of God’s love was now falling beyond the borders of Israel, onto hearts ready to receive Him—Jew and Gentile alike.

Peter didn’t rush like Nadav and Avihu. He waited. He wrestled. He walked with the Spirit into Cornelius’s home—and saw the same fire fall.

So what’s the invitation for us?

This week, I hear the Spirit calling us to a holy tension:

• To be eager for intimacy—but not to rush into His Presence carelessly.
  
  
• To walk in obedience, but give space for human grief and weakness.
  
  
• To stay faithful to His ways—even in what we eat—and yet make room for others at the table who’ve only just begun to taste and see that He is good.
  
  

Be holy, for I am holy.

It’s not a rule. It’s a wedding vow.

And sometimes, fire must fall.

Sometimes, the sheet must unfold.

But always, always, the Voice is calling.

Will we wait for it? Will we listen?

Journal Prompts for Your Reflection:

• Where have I tried to rush into something spiritual without waiting on the Lord?
  
  
• Am I allowing others space to grieve or wrestle without judgment?
  
  
• How do I walk in holiness while still welcoming others who may not yet understand the fullness of God’s ways?
  
  

Where do I need to let the sheet down—releasing old prejudices or boundaries that God is gently moving past?