Strange Fire, Holy Fire, and the Cost of Being Set Apart

Melissa Collins
Apr 11
6 min read

I didn’t go to church today.

And if I’m being honest, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be in the presence of God… it’s because I didn’t have anything left to give.

No polished message. No neat little bow to tie around a hard week. No “three points and a prayer.”

Today I’m just me. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m hormonal. And I’m sitting in the reality that sometimes life doesn’t slow down just because your heart is heavy.

And yet… the Word doesn’t stop speaking just because I’m tired.

This week’s portion is Sh’mini—“Eighth.”

And if you know anything about Scripture, you know the eighth day always represents something beyond completion… something new… something holy… something that belongs to God.

This is the day the tabernacle is finally inaugurated.

After all the preparation…after all the sacrifice…after all the obedience…

God shows up.

Leviticus 9:23–24 says:“Then the glory of the Lord appeared to all the people. And fire came out from before the Lord and consumed the burnt offering…”

Can you imagine that moment?

The fire of God… falling from heaven… consuming the offering.

Not symbolic. Not metaphorical.

Real fire. Real glory. Real presence.

And the people fall on their faces.

Because when God shows up like that… there is no casual response.

But then… right there… in the same moment of glory…

Everything shifts.

Leviticus 10:1 says: “Then Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron… each took his censer and put fire in it, put incense on it, and offered profane fire before the Lord, which He had not commanded them.”

And the same fire that just consumed the offering in worship…

Now consumes them in judgment.

Let’s think about that for a second. The fire didn’t change. The offering did.

And I think this is where we lose something in modern Christianity.

We love the fire that blesses. We love the fire that shows up. We love the fire that confirms.

But we don’t talk enough about the fact that God is still holy. And He has not changed. I know I talked about this last week, but it’s worth revisiting again.

He said in Leviticus 10:3: “By those who come near Me I must be regarded as holy…”

Not should be. Not ideally. Must be.

So what was their sin? It wasn’t just incense. It was unauthorized fire.

Something that looked spiritual…but wasn’t obedient.

Something that felt right…but wasn’t commanded.

Something offered in His presence…that did not come from His instruction.

And if we’re being honest…

That didn’t stop in Leviticus. We still do this.

We offer:

worship He didn’t ask for
lifestyles He didn’t approve
compromises we’ve justified
emotions we’ve mistaken for obedience

We bring God what feels good to us…and expect Him to receive it as holy.

But God is not receiving everything we offer.

And that’s a hard truth.

But it’s a necessary one.

And then… right after this moment…

God goes into detail about clean and unclean.

And I know—this is where people check out.

“Why does it matter what animals they ate?”

But this was never just about food. This was about discernment.

God was teaching His people:

Not everything is the same. Not everything is acceptable. Not everything is holy.

And if you belong to Me…you must learn to tell the difference.

We live in a culture that hates that.

We want:

everything to be acceptable
everything to be inclusive
everything to be affirmed

But God says:

“No.”

There is clean. There is unclean. There is holy. There is common.

And My people are called to be set apart.

1 Peter 1:15–16 says: “Be holy, for I am holy.”

Not: Be comfortable. Be understood. Be culturally accepted.

Be holy.

And that’s a quote straight outta Leviticus 11.

And let me just be real for a minute…

Holiness is not easy.

It sounds beautiful when you preach it.

But when you live it?

It looks like:

saying no when everything in you wants to say yes
staying when it would be easier to run
choosing righteousness when no one would ever know otherwise

Sometimes holiness feels powerful.

And sometimes…

It feels lonely.

And I think that’s the part we don’t talk about enough.

David ran into this too in 2 Samuel 6.

He wanted to bring the Ark of the Covenant back.

Good desire. Right intention.

But wrong method. They put it on a cart.

And when Uzzah reached out to steady it, he died.

Why?

Because God had already given instructions.

The Ark was never meant to be carried that way.

And this is where we have to check ourselves:

Good intentions do not replace obedience.

Just because something seems right…doesn’t mean it is right.

And if you think this was just Old Testament…

Let’s go to Acts 5.

Ananias and Sapphira.

They brought an offering. It looked good. It sounded good. But it wasn’t honest.

And they fell dead.

Same God. Same standards. Same holiness.

We don’t get to redefine what God calls holy.

But here’s where I want to bring this home… because this isn’t just theology.

This is life.

We all have areas where we are tempted to offer “strange fire.”

Maybe it’s:

compromise
hidden sin
justified behavior
emotional decisions we’ve dressed up as spiritual

Or maybe…

It’s just trying to hold on to control when God is asking for surrender.

And here’s the truth:

God doesn’t want just any offering.

He wants exactly what He asked for.

But we often think what we are giving should count. If I’m making effort…If my intentions are good… If my emotions are real…. And in human relationships that is often enough. But not with God.

He defines what is acceptable – not us.

This is about obedience over creativity.

Not:

“God, here’s what I want to give You”

But:

“God, what are You asking of me?”

Sometimes we offer:

Service when God is asking for surrender
Busyness when God is asking for rest
Kindness outwardly when God is asking for heart transformation
Sacrifice in one area to avoid obedience in another

It can even look like:

“God, I’ll give You this… just don’t ask me for that.”

That’s modern-day strange fire.

Here’s the heart of it. God is not impressed by:

👉 how much we give

👉 how hard we try

👉 how much we endure

If it’s not aligned with what He’s actually asking.

Think of it like this, if someone you love says: “What I really need from you is time with you”

And you respond: “I cleaned the whole house for you!”

That’s not wrong…But it’s also not what they asked for.

Spiritually speaking, God is after your heart, your obedience, your alignment with Him. Not just your effort.

So the deeper question for us becomes, not “What more can I do?”

But: “Lord, what are You actually asking of me right now?”

Because whatever that answer is…That’s the offering He’s looking for.

And sometimes… that offering is costly.

Sometimes it looks like:

restraint
obedience without reward
faithfulness when you feel unseen
doing the right thing when it hurts

But Ezekiel 36 reminds us:

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you…”

Because this was never about us doing this perfectly.

It was about God transforming us…from the inside out.

So where does that leave us?

Not afraid. But reverent.

Not distant. But careful.

Not casual. But surrendered.

Because the fire still falls.

The question is… What are we offering it?

Are we bringing:

obedience?
surrender?
holiness?

Or are we bringing something He never asked for…and hoping He’ll accept it anyway?

And if I’m being honest…

That question hit me before it hit anything else.

Because it’s a whole lot easier to write about holiness than it is to walk it out when you’re tired… when life feels heavy… when the offering actually costs you something.

It’s easy to say, “Be holy." It’s a lot harder when holiness looks like restraint…like obedience without reward…like surrender in places no one else sees.

And today…

I didn’t have anything polished to bring.

I didn’t have a perfect offering. I didn’t have everything in order. I didn’t even make it to church.

I was just… here.

Tired. Overwhelmed. Still working through things I don’t have answers for yet.

But I sat with the Word.

And the Word sat with me.

And somewhere between the fire that fell…and the fire that consumed…

I was reminded of something I needed more than anything else today:

God is still holy. And I am still His.

And even here…even in my exhaustion…even in my imperfection…

He’s not asking me for everything.