Years ago, I was discipling a young man who had never attended church. During our conversations about the value of community and public worship, he decided to visit our church. That Sunday, while I was leading the service, he tried to join us. After worship, I found an email waiting for me:

Wes,
Well, I tried coming to church today, but I stopped at Starbucks on the way. As I walked across the street and approached the door, someone stopped me. They saw my venti coffee cup and said I’d need to throw it out to enter. I paid $6 for that drink, and I wasn’t about to toss it. Since they wouldn’t let me in, I went down the street to find a church that would.

When I shared this email with the staff, it sparked a sobering discussion about the barriers—intentional and unintentional—we place in front of people seeking God’s grace. From the church’s perspective, they likely felt justified, thinking it disrespectful to bring coffee into the Lord’s house. (Interestingly, years later, John Piper expressed a similar sentiment in his rant about coffee and worship.)

This incident reminded me of how people often struggle with the regulations in books like Leviticus. Many joke about the difficulty of reading through it, but why did God include such detailed instructions about eradicating mold, offering sacrifices, and identifying what makes someone unclean? Why are these procedural steps for priests alongside epic stories like those of Noah, Moses, and David—or even the heartfelt prayers of the Psalms?

Leviticus 16 offers a clue: “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Tell your brother Aaron not to come whenever he chooses into the Most Holy Place…’” The chapter then outlines what Aaron must do to enter God’s dwelling place. Even today, some churches perpetuate this mindset with subtle (or not-so-subtle) expectations for how people should dress, behave, or appear. Like my former church, they unintentionally create barriers for people seeking God’s grace.

What barriers—critical or judgmental—have you experienced? More importantly, what subtle cues might you be giving off in public worship? Do you only greet those you know? Roll your eyes at the single mom struggling with her child? Judge the youth pastor in a t-shirt and flip-flops? (Email me if you want to know why he should be in a t-shirt and flip-flops!)

This Levitical lens misses the bigger picture. Leviticus is not a checklist to keep people out—it’s a foreshadowing of the new covenant. Through Jesus Christ, God broke down barriers. Jesus didn’t wait for us to meet conditions to enter His presence; He left the Most Holy Place to meet us where we are.

Leviticus helps us see the depth of God’s graciousness. Grace is getting what we don’t deserve. Since we cannot live up to Levitical expectations, we recognize our dependence on God’s grace. He comes to the unlovable, forgives our foolishness, and washes us clean. It is He who comes to us—not the other way around.