But if a man find a betrothed damsel in the field, and the man force her, and lie with her, then the man only that lay with her shall die;
Deuteronomy 22:25 describes a man who seizes a betrothed woman out in the open country, where no one can come to her aid. The law treats her case apart from the one just before it, and it settles one question: who carries the guilt when a man overpowers a woman?
The place of the crime decided the case. It showed whether anyone could have come to her aid.
In the city, people could hear a woman's cries for help. Out in the country, a man might force a betrothed woman against her will despite her cries (v.25). This was rape. The man must die, and the woman was held innocent (verses 26-27).
Where no one could hear her, the law gives her the benefit of the doubt.
The verse calls her a young woman who is "betrothed," and that one word carries legal weight.
In the eyes of Jewish law, betrothal had the same standing as marriage: Deuteronomy 22:23 and the verses that follow.
So this man has violated a woman already bound to another, and he must die. The law dealt with other cases in other ways.
Adultery between people married to others brought death (Deuteronomy 22:22-24). Misconduct before marriage brought stoning to death (verses 13-21). Rape brought either death or a required marriage (verses 25-29).
This ruling belongs to a chapter that leans one way throughout.
Deuteronomy 22 encourages gracious and even sensitive feeling, forbids the mixing of principles, punishes impurity, and protects the weak and innocent against brutality.
Commentators read these laws as one fabric, meant to shape the heart of the nation.
Everyone can see that the great aim here is that God would form the heart of His people in this relationship, and to this measure, according to His own affections. He would give them thoughts that were not merely righteous but holy — and more than that, thoughts mixed with tenderness where tenderness was called for.
Why does such an ugly scene appear in Scripture at all? One answer is that the law itself tells us something about human nature.
Is it not good to have a faithful mirror held up before our eyes, in which we may see every moral trait and feature perfectly reflected? We may be sure that when God commands us not to commit this or that particular sin, we really are capable of committing it. Divine wisdom would never build a dam where there was no current to hold back. No one needs to tell an angel not to steal; but man has theft in his nature, so the command applies to him. It is the same with every forbidden thing: the prohibition proves the tendency.
So this law says something about every reader, not only about ancient Israel.
The law holds back an evil that it does not cure.
Some things are taken for granted here, and they form the basis of these laws, though the full working of the Spirit of Christ would take them away completely. Divorce is one example, and other things were tolerated in the same way. They existed only because of the hardness of man's heart. But the limits and conditions set by the law of God keep in check the wickedness of a will that hardens itself while it oppresses others.
Behind the law stands a God who saw a crime that no human witness saw.
Nothing escaped His gracious notice; nothing was too small for His tender care. No mother could be more careful of her little child's habits and manners than the Almighty Creator and moral Governor of the universe was of the smallest details in His people's daily life. We see here, in a most striking way, that nothing is too small for our God to notice when His people are concerned.
- Notice. God takes account of what no bystander saw; nothing escapes His care, so a crime in an empty field is still on record.
- Status. Betrothal counted as marriage, so this assault carried death and not a lighter penalty.
- Verdict. Where it happened decided the case: out in the country no one could hear her, so the man dies and she carries no guilt.
- Mirror. The prohibition proves the tendency — God builds no dam where there is no current.
- Restraint. These limits check a hardened will that oppresses others. They hold evil back; the Spirit of Christ deals with the heart itself.
and unto the damsel thou shalt do nothing there is in the damsel no sin worthy of death; for as when a man riseth against his neighbour, and murdereth him, so is this matter;
Deuteronomy 22 gives case after case about marriage and sexual sin. This verse gives the verdict in one of them: the woman attacked out in the open country is to suffer nothing. The law both clears her and weighs the crime against her by the standard of murder.
One writer reads the whole chapter as a guard — on kindness, on purity, and on women in particular.
Deuteronomy 22 seems to contain rules that guard the people from a lack of kindness and mercy. They guard them too from anything that would offend natural feeling, whether tenderness or purity. In the same way, the law forbade all mixture in ploughing or sowing. We find the same care for women. The law protected them from the dishonour done to them by a brutish, thoughtless husband, and it punished impurity with death.
Two cases sit side by side here. What separates them is the place of the attack, and whether anyone could have heard her.
In the city a woman's cries for help could be heard. Out in the country a man may have forced a betrothed woman against her will, despite her cries for help (v.25). This was rape. For it the man must die, and the woman is held innocent (vs. 26-27).
The verse measures this crime by another: "a man attacking and murdering his neighbor." One writer looks at the Hebrew here and in similar verses. He finds it is not the ordinary verb for killing.
The expression here and elsewhere — in Genesis 37:21, Deuteronomy 19:6, 11, Deuteronomy 22:26 and Jeremiah 40:14 — is always "smiting the soul." The verb is not the true word for killing.
These rulings run from the smallest matters to the greatest. One writer says God's aim in them was to shape the inner life of His people.
In Deuteronomy 22 we have a group of different rules dealing with questions of righteousness, care, love and tenderness — the smallest matters as well as the greatest… Everyone can see the great object here. God would form the heart of His people in this relationship and by this measure, according to His own affections. He would give them not bare righteous thoughts but holy ones, and thoughts mingled with tenderness when tenderness was called for.
These were rules for a people at a particular stage. J. N. Darby marks what they did and did not achieve.
Some things are taken for granted here, and they form the basis of these rules. The full working of the Spirit of Christ would remove them — divorce, for instance, and other things tolerated because of the hardness of man's heart. But the law of God sets limits and conditions, and these keep in check the wickedness of a will that hardens itself while it oppresses others.
One writer takes the ban itself as evidence about the human heart.
We hear a great deal about the dignity of human nature. A great many find it very hard to admit that they are capable of committing some of the sins forbidden in the section before us… But we may be sure of this: when God commands us not to commit a particular sin, we are capable of committing it. This is beyond all question. Divine wisdom would never build a dam if there were no current to be resisted. There would be no need to tell an angel not to steal. But man has theft in his nature, and so the command applies to him. It is the same with every other forbidden thing: the ban proves the tendency.
The same writer turns that from theory into daily dependence.
We all need to remember this. If God were to withdraw His sustaining grace for one moment, there is no depth of evil we could not fall into… May we always keep this in mind, so that we may walk humbly and watchfully, leaning on the arm that alone can hold us up and keep us.
- Crime. Out in the country no one could hear the woman cry for help. What happened there was rape, and the law names it so.
- Verdict. The man must die. The woman goes free, and the guilt sits where it belongs.
- Measure. God weighs it as murder: a man attacking his neighbor. The Hebrew reads "smiting the soul," not the ordinary word for killing.
- Motive. God's rulings here, small and great, shape His people's hearts by His own affections. Righteousness comes mingled with tenderness, and the law curbs the oppressor's will.
- Mirror. God never builds a dam where there is no current. The law that clears her also shows what the human heart can do. It sends us to lean on the grace that holds us up.
for he found her in the field, the betrothed damsel cried, and there was no one to save her.
This verse closes a case in Israel's law. A man attacked a woman promised in marriage out in open country, where her cry for help could reach no one. The verse decides who is guilty when no one was there to hear. It also raises a question: why does God's law deal with a crime like this at all?
The location decides everything here. In a town, someone would have heard her cries. Out in open country no one could, and that difference decides the ruling.
In the city, people could hear a woman's cries for help. Out in the country, a man may have forced a betrothed woman against her will, despite her cries for help (v.25). This was rape. The man must die, and the woman is held innocent (vs.26-27).
The woman in this case had no one to rescue her. William Kelly sums up what the whole chapter around her case is doing.
Deuteronomy 22 fosters gracious and even delicate feeling, forbids mixture of principle, punishes impurity, and protects the weak innocents against brutality.
A judge could settle a case like this by rule alone. Kelly sees the chapter aiming deeper than right rulings, at what the people feel.
In Deuteronomy 22 we have a group of different rules about righteousness, care, love and tenderness — the smallest matters as well as the greatest. All can understand that the great object here is that God would form the heart of His people in this relationship and by this measure, according to His own affections. God would give them not merely righteous thoughts but holy ones. And not only that: thoughts mixed with tenderness when tenderness was needed.
Rules like this one do not remake the human heart. Darby notes that these laws work inside a setting that is far from perfect. They still do real good: they fence in cruelty.
Here, it is true, everything is imperfect. Some things are taken for granted here, and they form the basis of these ordinances. The full working of the Spirit of Christ would remove them completely — divorce, for instance, and other things people put up with. They owe their existence to the hardness of man's heart. But the limits and conditions set by the law of God keep in check the wickedness of that will which hardens itself while it oppresses others.
Some readers wonder why the Bible deals with crimes this ugly. Mackintosh answers that the law itself shows us what we are.
The passages we would least expect to find in the Bible teach us, in their own way, what we are made of morally, and the moral depths we are capable of sinking into. Is it not good to have a faithful mirror held up in front of our eyes, one that reflects every moral trait and feature perfectly? But we may rest assured that when God commands us not to commit this or that particular sin, we are truly capable of committing it. This is beyond all question. Divine wisdom would never build a dam where there is no current to hold back. There would be no need to tell an angel not to steal; but man has theft in his nature, and so the command applies to him. And exactly the same holds for every other forbidden thing: the prohibition proves the tendency — proves it beyond all question.
The verse ends with no one there to save her. Mackintosh draws another lesson from this part of Deuteronomy. God's care reached into every corner of His people's lives, even the private ones.
It teaches us something all its own: the wonderful way God provided for everything connected with His people. Nothing escaped His gracious notice; nothing was too trivial for His tender care… By day and by night, waking and sleeping, at home and abroad, He looked after them. He attended to their clothing, their food, and their manners and ways towards one another. He attended to how they were to build their houses and how they were to plough and sow their ground. He attended even to how they were to conduct themselves in the deepest privacy of their personal life. He provided for it all in a way that fills us with wonder, love and praise.
- Cry — The attack happened in open country. No call for help could reach anyone there, and that fact alone decides the case.
- Verdict — The law treats the crime as rape: the man must die, and the woman is innocent.
- Shield — The chapter protects weak innocents against brutality. Its limits hold back a will that hardens itself while it oppresses others.
- Mirror — A law exists because the sin it forbids is possible. Divine wisdom never builds a dam where no current runs.
- Presence — No one was near enough to save her, but nothing was too trivial for God's tender care. It reached the deepest privacy of His people's lives. His aim was to form hearts that are not merely righteous but tender.