If brethren dwell together, and one of them die, and have no son, the wife of the dead shall not marry a stranger abroad her husband's brother shall go in unto her, and take her to him as wife, and perform the duty of a husband's brother unto her.
A man dies with no son. His family line is about to vanish, and this law hands the problem to his brother. Commentators trace it to Boaz, to Christ, and to a test put to Jesus by men who denied the resurrection.
This law sits among rules that reach into the smallest corners of daily life.
In the rest of Deuteronomy 24, and in Deuteronomy 25, we again find many rules of mercy and goodness for the people, even in the most ordinary matters of household life. They cover not the wife only, but one's fellows, servants too, strangers, harvests and vineyards, down to the care of the cattle.
The wording is narrow, and the limits matter.
This law applied only where brothers lived together. If one of them was married but died with no son, his brother was not to marry an outsider. He was to take his dead brother's widow as his wife (v.5). (Of course, this was only where the living brother had not married before.) If the new couple then had a son, that son was to be the successor of the first husband, so that his name would remain in Israel (v.6). Any sons born after that would be sons of the second husband.
Losing a family name in Israel carried the weight of God's displeasure. One writer adds that it also touched a hope every Hebrew woman held.
There was a merciful provision in the law (Deut. 25:5-10) that no man's family should be allowed to die out, while a brother survived to carry on the line. In Israel, to be childless was a disgrace. For a man's name to be blotted out — his family to die out — was regarded as a special mark of God's displeasure... It was provision for the earthly life, not the future one, that God had made... His provision also seems to recognise the hope in the heart of every Hebrew woman: that through her, in some way, the promise of "the woman's seed" might be fulfilled.
This law is an exception, tied to something only Israel had.
A marked exception was needed to keep up tribal inheritance in Israel: a levirate, or brother-in-law, marriage. Such marriages existed elsewhere, but they applied to no other people as they did to Israel, and still less to a Christian. This applied when a man died childless, and his brother or next of kin was called to raise up offspring for the dead man. The aim was to bind up the family line and the inheritance. So much so, that if the nearer kinsman refused, the widow had the right to loose his shoe in public and spit in his face.
The book of Ruth shows this law in action. Commentators read its two kinsmen as a picture.
This is why, in Ruth 4:1-8, a closer relative than Boaz had his sandal taken off when he could not take the place of husband to Ruth. This relative represents the law, which was in close relationship to Israel, but was helpless to redeem that nation. Boaz pictures the Lord Jesus, the only One who can redeem, to build up the house of one whose hope was gone.
Another writer sees the same Kinsman's duty done on a far greater scale.
Our Lord Jesus made Himself our Kinsman, and He has done a Kinsman's part in ways that outshine every comparison. Like a more self-sacrificing Boaz, at a price that cost Him everything, He has relieved not only a childless, penniless kinsman, but one who was guilty and ruined and sold into dishonourable captivity.
The Sadducees, a group who denied that the dead rise, used this law to argue against it. Jesus answered them twice over: from the state of risen people, and from the same books of Moses they were quoting.
The Sadducees of that day, like many people since, could imagine nothing different from what they had known. Here marriages take place. So in their thinking, if there was a resurrection, marriages must happen in heaven too. Their conclusion was wrong. Marriages do not take place among the saints in heaven. Death does not reign there; so marriage, by which the race is continued on earth, has no place on high... How simply the tables were turned. Deut. 25:5 showed, in their eyes, the folly of looking for a resurrection. Ex. 3:6 clearly implied a resurrection. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had died long before God spoke to Moses like this; yet He was still their God. So they did exist, for He is not a God of that which has no existence.
- Mercy — the rule sits among laws in Deuteronomy 24–25 about mercy and goodness in everyday household life.
- Name — it applied only to brothers living together when one died with no son, so the dead man's name would remain in Israel.
- Disgrace — Israel saw childlessness and a blotted-out name as a mark of God's displeasure, so God made sure no family need die out.
- Kinsman — Boaz did this duty for Ruth when the nearer relative could not. Commentators read that kinsman as the law, helpless to redeem, and Boaz as Christ.
- Resurrection — the Sadducees used this law against the resurrection. Jesus showed from Moses that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob still exist, since God was still their God.
And it shall be, that the firstborn that she beareth shall stand in the name of his brother who is dead, that his name be not blotted out from Israel.
This verse sets the rule for what happens after a man marries his dead brother's widow: her first son counts as the dead man's son, not his own father's, so the dead man's name is not lost from Israel. That raises two questions — why God cared so much about a family name, and what it pictures beyond Israel.
The provision is narrow, and only the first child carries the dead man's name.
This law applied only where brothers were living together. If one of them was married but died with no son, his brother was not to marry an outsider. He was to take his dead brother's widow as his wife (v.5)... But if that new marriage produced a son, the son was to be the successor of the first husband, so that his name would remain in Israel (v.6). After that any sons born would be those of the second husband.
Losing a name in Israel was not a sentimental loss. It carried the weight of God's displeasure, and the law worked to prevent it.
The law made a merciful provision (Deut. 25:5-10) that no man's family should die out while a brother was still alive to carry on the line. In Israel, being childless was a disgrace. For a man's name to be blotted out — for his family to die out — was seen as a special mark of God's displeasure... His provision also seems to recognise the hope in every Hebrew woman's heart that through her the promise of "the woman's seed" might somehow be fulfilled. That was fulfilled literally in the family line kept alive through Ruth.
The name was not saved on its own. It stayed with the family's land. That is why this duty later went together with buying back property.
This required marriage followed the provision made in Jehovah's law (Deut. 25:6), so that the family name would continue together with the family's own land, even though its head had died with no heir. That had happened to both Elimelech and his two sons. And it was Jehovah's will that the inheritance of each family of the righteous people should stay theirs for ever (Lev. 25:23).
A man could refuse. What followed was not execution but a lasting public brand.
The law did not say that a man who ignored such claims must die or be stoned. But deep reproach and lasting shame were to rest on the Jewish brother in a case like this... Suppose the brother refused this duty and would not raise up the name of his dead, childless brother on his inheritance and among the families of the land. Then the widow was to come, pull his sandal off his foot, and spit in his face. From then on his house was to be called "the house of him who had his sandal pulled off."
Boaz is the clearest example of this law kept. The result went far beyond one name on a list.
Boaz redeems her inheritance, and marries her. He is not afraid of spoiling his own inheritance. He gives himself to the interests of his dead relative and of the childless, penniless widow he had left behind. This marriage, and the redemption of the inheritance that went with it, brings the house of Mahlon back to life and lifts it to royal honour... David, who sat on the throne of Israel, came from it in the third generation.
The relative who hands over his sandal pictures the law itself — able to claim, but unable to give life.
No, the law certainly cannot raise up the name of the dead on his inheritance. Only the power of God in grace can meet the need pictured here. The relative hands over his sandal — the sign of taking possession — to the One who has the power. The law gives its witness and yields its rights to Christ, and He is declared the only possible Redeemer.
This law was later turned into an argument that the dead do not rise. Jesus answered from a different passage.
Next the Sadducees came forward with their question, which they thought denied the resurrection. They had referred to Deut. 25:5. He answered them from Ex. 3:6. They thought the rule about marrying a brother's widow showed that a bodily resurrection was impossible. But they left out two important things: the power of God, and the teaching of the Scriptures (Mark 12:24). People in the resurrection state will be equal to the angels. They will never die, and marriage is unknown there. Also, God's word to Moses (Ex. 3:6) implied resurrection. So they were badly wrong.
- Name first. The firstborn of the new marriage took the dead man's name, so his name stayed alive in Israel instead of ending with him.
- Name with land. The name stayed alive together with the family's land, so each household kept its inheritance for good.
- Name refused. A man could refuse. Then the widow pulled off his sandal and spat in his face, and his house carried that name from then on.
- Name revived. Boaz risked his own inheritance, and the house he revived rose to royal honour — David came from it in the third generation.
- Name only grace can raise. The law cannot raise up the name of the dead. It hands its rights over to Christ, the only Redeemer who can.
But if the man like not to take his brother's wife, his brother's wife shall go up to the gate unto the elders, and say, My husband's brother refuseth to raise up unto his brother a name in Israel he will not perform for me the duty of a husband's brother.
A childless widow stands at the city gate and names the man who will not do a brother's part for her. Her complaint raises two questions: why did a dead man's name matter so much in Israel, and what happened when the one man who could save it refused?
The law she appeals to exists to stop a family line from ending:
There was a merciful provision in the law (Deut. 25:5-10) that no man's family should die out while a brother was alive to carry on the line. In Israel, to be childless was a reproach. If a man's name was blotted out and his family died out, people took it as a special mark of God's displeasure. There seems, too, to be a recognition in His provision of that hope in the heart of every Hebrew woman: that through her, in some way, the promise of "the woman's seed" might be fulfilled. This was to happen literally in the line preserved through Ruth.
The first son of the new marriage stepped into the dead man's place:
If the new marriage produced a son, he was to be the successor of the first husband, so that his name would remain in Israel (v.6). Any sons born after him would belong to the second husband.
The woman is not left helpless. The law gives her a hearing before the elders:
It might be, however, that the man would not want his brother's wife. In this case the wife could bring the matter to the court at the gate of the city. The elders could then call the man and try to persuade him to marry the widow (vs.7-8).
If he still refuses, the punishment is not what you would expect. He is not put to death; he is marked:
The law did not say that a man who ignored such claims must die or be stoned. Instead, deep reproach and lasting shame were to lie on the Jewish brother in such a case... If the brother refused to raise up the name of his dead and childless brother on the inheritance, the widow was to come to him. She was to pull his sandal off his foot and spit in his face. From then on his house was to be called "the house of him who had his sandal pulled off." He was not to be stoned; he was to carry a mark instead.
The two acts carried different meanings:
Spitting speaks of the contempt of one man for the other. The removed sandal signified the weakness the man confessed in the presence of someone greater.
Commentators see a larger picture here. The law itself has a limit when it meets death:
The law is really the next of kin to man; but he is dead, and it cannot raise him from the dead.
The sandal does not only shame a man. It passes on to someone with power:
No, the law certainly cannot raise up the name of the dead on his inheritance. The power of God in grace alone can meet the need pictured here. The kinsman passes his shoe — the sign of entering upon possession — to him in whom power is. The law testifies and yields its rights to Christ, and He is declared the only possible Redeemer.
One writer carries this over to believers today:
So with us. In the New Testament the Holy Spirit may not write a sentence of death against a believer who is indifferent to the duties of brotherhood, or to the claims of his new family in Christ. But, as under the law, He puts reproach on him. "But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him?" The spitting in the face was a vivid mark of God's distaste toward the Jew who refused the claims of his brother. This challenge — "How does God's love abide in him?" — shows in the same way the distance between the mind of God and such a Christian brother.
- Name. The law kept an Israelite's family line and inheritance from disappearing. The first son of the new marriage carried the dead man's name.
- Voice. The widow was not powerless — she could take her case to the elders at the gate, and they were to press the man to act.
- Shame. Refusal brought no death sentence, only a permanent public mark: sandal pulled off, face spat on, house renamed.
- Helplessness. Writers see the man who will not act as a picture of the law itself — closely related to us, but unable to raise the dead.
- Redeemer. The shoe passes to Christ, the only Redeemer with power — and the duty of brotherly love now tests believers toward their own family in Christ.
Then the elders of his city shall call him and speak unto him; and if he stand to it and say, I like not to take her;
A widow's husband has died without a son. The nearest brother will not marry her, so she brings the case to the town's elders. They summon him and reason with him. This verse records what he says when he stands his ground.
A man dies childless. The law then bound his nearest surviving relative to the dead man's family. One writer gives the reason for that rule — and its penalty:
One marked exception was needed to keep up tribal inheritance in Israel. It existed elsewhere too, but it applied to no other people as it did to them, and still less to a Christian: a levirate, or brother-in-law, marriage. It came into force when a man died childless. The law then called his brother or next of kin to raise up children for the dead man. The aim was to bind together the family line and the inheritance. The tie was so strong that if the nearer kinsman refused, the widow had the right to loose his shoe in public and spit in his face.
The rule was also a mercy. In Israel, a family line dying out was a disgrace:
There was a merciful provision in the law (Deuteronomy 25:5-10) that the law would not let a man's family die out while a brother survived to carry on the line. In Israel, to be childless was a reproach. And if a man's name was blotted out — his family dying out — people counted it a special mark of God's displeasure.
The elders met in public, and the place mattered:
Boaz went to the "gate." Everyone recognised it as an open court of justice. There the older men of the city, known for wisdom and good name, examined civil and criminal cases. Moses authorised this form of local government in his final instructions to Israel on the borders of Canaan (compare Deuteronomy 16:18-20; Deuteronomy 25:7-9). So the elders of the city were its civil rulers, and God appointed them to that place. They rewarded and protected the good and punished the evil, with the authority of judges, according to His law.
The elders' first move was persuasion, and the widow started the process:
It might be, however, that the man would not want his brother's wife. In that case the wife could bring the matter to the court in the gate of the city. The elders could then call the man and try to persuade him to marry the widow (vv. 7-8). If he refused outright, the widow could remove the sandal from his foot and spit in his face. At the same time she would say, "So shall it be done to the man who does not build up his brother's house" (v. 9).
The man who stands his ground goes free — but not unmarked:
The law did not say that a man who ignored such claims must die or be stoned. But deep reproach and lasting shame were to rest on the Jewish brother in such a case. If the brother refused to raise up the name of his dead and childless brother, his house from then on was to be called "the house of him who had his sandal pulled off." He was not to be stoned, but to have a mark put on him.
One writer reads this refusal as more than one man's failure. He links it to the story in Ruth:
The failure treated here as possible is, according to Ruth, the failure of the law — an ever-needed lesson. The law is really the next of kin to man; but he is dead, and it cannot raise him from the dead.
Leslie Grant, quoted earlier, reads the sandal and the spitting as pictures:
Boaz pictures the Lord Jesus, the only One who can redeem, and build up the house of one whose hope was gone. Spitting speaks of the contempt of one person for another. The sandal removed showed the confessed weakness of one man in the presence of a superior, just as the law must confess its weakness in contrast to Christ, the Man of strength and of infinite grace.
The same writer turns from Israel to Christians:
So with us. The Holy Spirit in the New Testament may not write a sentence of death against a believer who is careless about the duties of brotherhood, or about the claims of his new family in Christ. But, as under the law, He puts reproach on him. "But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him?" The spitting in the face was a vivid mark of God's distaste towards the Jew who refused his brother's claims like this. That question — "How does God's love abide in him?" — shows in the same way how far the mind of God is from such a Christian brother.
- The claim — a dead man's name and inheritance had a claim on his living relative. No family in Israel was to die out while a brother lived.
- The court — the widow pressed that claim at the city gate. There the elders tried persuasion first, not punishment.
- The choice — the man was free to refuse. The law recorded his own words and did not force his hand.
- The mark — refusal brought no death sentence. It brought lasting reproach: the sandal pulled off, the face spat in, the house renamed.
- The Redeemer — the law is man's next of kin, but it cannot raise the dead. Boaz pictures the One who can.
then shall his brother's wife come near to him before the eyes of the elders, and draw his sandal from his foot, and spit in his face, and shall answer and say, So shall it be done unto the man that will not build up his brother's house.
A man has refused, in front of the town elders, to marry his dead brother's widow and keep that brother's name alive. What the widow then does is not a court sentence but a ceremony of shame.
Before the shame, there is the kindness the man is refusing. One writer explains why Israel took a childless death so seriously, and what hope hung on a family line continuing:
The law made a merciful provision (Deut. 25:5-10): no man's family should die out while a brother was still alive to carry on the line. In Israel, being childless was a disgrace. If a man's name was blotted out and his family died out, people saw it as a special mark of God's displeasure… His provision also seems to recognize the hope in the heart of every Hebrew woman: that through her, in some way, the promise of "the woman's seed" might be fulfilled. That was fulfilled literally in the line preserved through Ruth.
The refusing brother is not executed, and he is not forced. One commentator marks the limit the law set here:
The law did not say that a man who ignored such claims must die or be stoned. But deep reproach and lasting shame were to rest on the Jewish brother in such a case… He was not to be stoned. Instead he carried a mark, left standing like a pillar of salt.
The rule also reached back to an older practice, and it left the man a choice:
The law itself grew out of an old custom, one we already find in Genesis 38:8-11. Moses recognized here that the custom was not compulsory.
The shoe carried a settled legal meaning in Israel:
Taking off the shoe was also an ancient custom. According to Ruth 4:7, people used it in cases of redemption and exchange, to confirm a business deal. The custom began this way: a man took possession of land by treading on the soil, claiming his right to it by standing on it in his shoes. So taking off the shoe and handing it to another became a symbol of giving up a man's position and property.
The widow could take the case to the elders first. If the man still refused, her two actions each said something different:
The wife could bring the matter to the court, at the gate of the city, and the elders could call the man and try to persuade him to marry the widow… This is why, in Ruth 4:1-8, a relative closer than Boaz had his sandal taken off when he could not take the place of husband to Ruth. Taking off the sandal had become a custom in Israel, but spitting in the face is not mentioned there. Spitting speaks of one person's contempt for another. The removed sandal confessed weakness in the presence of someone greater — just as the law must confess its weakness next to Christ, the Man of strength and of infinite grace.
Read alongside Ruth, this law becomes a picture. The man with the prior claim steps back, and everything passes to another:
No, the law certainly cannot raise up the name of the dead on his inheritance. The power of God in grace alone can meet the need pictured here. The kinsman passes his shoe — the sign of entering into possession — to the one in whom power lies. The law testifies and yields its rights to Christ, and He is declared the only possible Redeemer.
Commentators differ on who that nearer kinsman stands for. Reading the same scene in Ruth, another writer sees not the law but ordinary humanity:
The nearer kinsman was more closely related to Naomi than Boaz was. So he seems to picture our fellow man rather than the law. Man has no nearer kinsman than those of his own flesh and blood.
The shame attached to that ancient refusal still has an edge for readers today:
In the New Testament the Holy Spirit may not write a death sentence against a believer who ignores the duties of brotherhood, or the claims of his new family in Christ. But, as under the law, He puts reproach on him. "Whoever has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him?"… This challenge shows the distance between the mind of God and such a Christian brother.
- Duty — the law kept families in Israel from dying out. A surviving brother was to keep the dead man's name on his inheritance.
- Refusal — the man could say no. God did not compel him, and the practice itself was older than Moses.
- Shame — instead of death, a public mark. Spitting showed contempt, and the sandal pulled off confessed weakness.
- Transfer — a man took land by standing on it. So handing over the sandal handed over every claim to it, as in Ruth 4.
- Redeemer — the one who cannot redeem gives up his shoe to the One who can. The law yields its rights, and Christ alone raises up the name of the dead.
And his name shall be called in Israel, The house of him that hath his shoe drawn off.
This verse gives the penalty for a man who refused to marry his dead brother's widow: a nickname that stuck to his whole household. Why did Israel treat that refusal so seriously, and why was the penalty shame instead of death?
The nickname is the last step in a law that starts at verse 5.
The law in Deuteronomy 25 teaches us that an Israelite had to marry his brother's widow if that brother had died childless. He was to raise up seed to his brother, so that the firstborn of that marriage would secure his brother's name and inheritance. If he refused this service to his dead brother, he faced public shame, and a mark of disgrace was fixed on him.
This law had a name, and its reason lay in Israel's tribal land.
Israel needed a special exception to keep up tribal inheritance: levirate marriage, that is, marriage to a brother-in-law. The custom existed elsewhere, but it applied to no other people as it did to Israel, and still less to a Christian.
A family line dying out was no private sadness in Israel.
The law made a merciful provision (Deuteronomy 25:5-10). No man's family was to die out while a brother lived to continue the line. In Israel, to be childless was a reproach. A man's name blotted out — his family gone — was seen as a special mark of God's displeasure. The Sadducees, in our Lord's day, might try to ridicule the truth of resurrection by bringing in this merciful provision. But they only showed their ignorance of "the Scriptures and the power of God." God had made this provision for the earthly life, not the future one.
The penalty here stops short of death.
The law did not say that a man who left such claims unanswered must face death or stoning. Deep reproach and lasting shame were to lie on him instead. If the brother refused this duty, and would not raise up the name of his dead and childless brother on the inheritance and among the families of the land, his house from then on was to be called "The house of him who had his sandal pulled off." He was not to be stoned, but to have a mark put on him.
The sandal and the spitting mean different things. Only one of them turns up again in the story of Ruth.
If he firmly refused to marry her, the widow was allowed to remove the sandal from his foot and spit in his face. At the same time she said, "So shall it be done to the man who will not build up his brother's house." This is why, in Ruth 4:1-8, a closer relative than Boaz had his sandal taken off when he could not take the place of husband to Ruth. This relative stands for the law. The law was in close relationship to Israel, but it was helpless to redeem that nation. Boaz pictures the Lord Jesus, the only One who can redeem and build up the house of one whose hope was gone. By that time, taking off the sandal had become a custom in Israel, but spitting in the face is not mentioned. Spitting speaks of one person's contempt for another. The sandal removed signified weakness confessed in the presence of a superior, just as the law must confess its weakness compared with Christ, the Man of strength and of infinite grace.
One writer carries this into the Christian life, where the penalty is gone but not the reproach.
So with us. In the New Testament the Holy Spirit may not write a sentence of death against a believer who is indifferent to the duties of brotherhood, or to the claims of his new family in Christ. But, as under the law, He puts reproach on him. "If anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him?" The spitting in the face was a vivid mark of God's distaste toward the Jew who refused his brother's claims in this way. This challenge — "How does God's love abide in him?" — shows the same distance between the mind of God and such a Christian brother.
- Duty. A living brother had to marry the childless widow. The firstborn son then carried the dead man's name and inheritance.
- Mercy. The law kept families in Israel from dying out. A name blotted out was seen as a special mark of God's displeasure.
- Refusal. The man who would not build up his brother's house lost his sandal and was spat on — open contempt, and weakness confessed.
- Reproach. God did not stone him. He marked him, and the mark passed to his whole household as a name.
- Reach. In Ruth, the nearer relative has his sandal taken off because he cannot redeem. Boaz pictures Christ, the only One able to build up a house whose hope was gone. The same reproach still rests on anyone who shuts his heart against his brother.
When men fight together one with another, and the wife of the one come near to rescue her husband out of the hand of him that smiteth him, and stretch out her hand, and seize him by his secret parts,
Two men fight, and one man's wife steps in to save him — in a way that shames his opponent as much as anything could. Why does God make a law for such an ugly, split-second scene, and why is the sentence so harsh?
This rule comes near the end of a long list of practical laws. Commentators read the chapter as one connected whole, not a pile of unrelated rules:
Deuteronomy 25 adds rules that continue what we have already read. They take care that no brother becomes despised in their eyes, and that no family dies out from among the people. At the same time, they keep up purity and honesty.
So the verse sits next to the limit on beating a guilty man, the rule that keeps a family name alive, and the demand for honest dealing.
The woman is not attacking a stranger for fun. She is trying to save her own husband. That is what makes the ruling so searching:
We are also sure that the details in the middle of the chapter were written under the same far-seeing eye: the rule for keeping each family name alive in Israel; the guarding, under severe penalty, of purity and decency of feeling, even when those closest to us are threatened or suffering; and the keeping of complete honesty in every dealing, small or great, in the sight and blessing of the Lord.
Loyalty to the person closest to you is not a free pass. Decency still holds in an emergency.
The act itself is what draws the penalty, and the penalty is meant to be remembered. One writer gathers the two verses under a single blunt heading:
Concerning a sinful freedom (25:11-12)
Others feel the weight of the ruling and say so plainly, while still explaining why it fits the deed:
The judgment for the woman in verses 11 and 12 is very severe, but it was for an action completely unfitting for a woman. In fact, even a man would hesitate to act in this way. But to have a hand cut off would be a traumatic reminder of her guilty action for the rest of her life.
The writer holds two things together. He does not soften the penalty, and he does not excuse the act. The hand that reached out is the hand that pays, and the loss reminds her for life.
A rule this specific can look small and unimportant. Commentators see the opposite. God cares about the smallest details of daily life:
In the rest of Deuteronomy 24 and in Deuteronomy 25 we again find many rules of mercy and goodness toward the people, even in the most ordinary matters of household life — not the wife only, but one's neighbours, servants too, strangers, harvests and vineyards, down to the care of the cattle. The poor man who was in the wrong and got beaten was not forgotten either. No one was to go past the set limit, and nothing was to make one's brother look worthless. A beating may be deserved and needed; but nothing must destroy respect. The Lord takes an interest in everything that belongs to His people, and He would bring them up with His own training and correction — an important point for us to weigh early.
The same care runs through the chapter. The law allows a beating, but it will not let anyone shame the man. Punishment never gives permission to destroy a person's dignity.
The New Testament quotes this chapter. That sets a pattern for reading the rest of it, with one warning attached:
Notice how Deuteronomy 25 is quoted here. It leads us to expect that the law keeps and illustrates many a principle of conduct that the New Testament asks of us as well pleasing to God. This is no surprise, for God Himself is always the Same. We shall however find new principles of conduct in the New Testament which are not found in the Old. Just one word of caution. Keep a tight rein on your imagination when you search the law this way. A dreamy mind can produce apparent parallels which, though sincerely meant, are nothing but fancy running wild!
Take the principle; do not invent a symbol.
- Setting — The verse sits among laws that guard a brother's honour, a family's name, and honest dealing.
- Guard — The law guards purity and decency of feeling, even when someone we love is under threat.
- Severity — The penalty is harsh. The lost hand reminds her for life of what that hand did.
- Reach — God's care reaches into household life, servants, harvests and cattle. Even punishment must not destroy respect.
- Use — Read such laws for the lasting principle behind them, and keep your imagination on a short rein.
thou shalt cut off her hand; thine eye shall not spare.
Two men fight, a wife steps in to save her husband, and the law's answer is her hand with no pity. Why so heavy a penalty for one moment of impulse, and what is God protecting?
Commentators do not soften this sentence. They explain it by what the woman did. Leslie Grant calls the judgment severe, and points to the act that drew it:
The judgment for a woman in verses 11 and 12 is extremely severe, but it was for an action totally unbecoming to a woman. In fact, even a man would hesitate to act in this way. But to have a hand cut off would be a traumatic reminder of her guilty action for the rest of her life.
Gaebelein gives the paragraph a title that names the offence for what it is — not an accident, but a liberty taken:
Concerning a sinful freedom (25:11-12)
William Kelly reads this law together with the rules around it, and finds one standard running through them all:
We also find this: when feelings run high against another person, any unfair advantage taken over him is rebuked in the sternest way. The law insists on a righteous and equal measure.
Her cause was good. She was rescuing her husband. But a good cause did not excuse the hold she took, and the heat of the moment did not license it.
Just before this law, the chapter limits a flogging so the guilty man is not degraded. Now it guards a man from a bystander's grip. Darby reads the chapter as one body of law with a double aim:
Deuteronomy 25 adds rules that continue what we have already read. They take care that none of their brothers should be dishonoured in their eyes, and that no family should die out from among the people. At the same time, they maintain purity and uprightness.
Kelly notes how far down into ordinary living these rules reach, and why:
In the rest of Deuteronomy 24, and in Deuteronomy 25, we again find many instructions of mercy and goodness towards the people, even in the most ordinary matters of household life — not the wife only, but one's fellows, servants, strangers, harvests and vineyards, down to the care of the cattle. The poor man who was at fault and got beaten was not forgotten. There must be no going beyond a certain measure, and nothing that would make one's brother vile. Stripes may be due and needed; but there must be nothing to destroy respect. The LORD finds His own interest in everything that belongs to His people, and He would bring them up in His own nurture and admonition.
Kelly sums up this whole run of laws in one line. Flesh here means fallen human nature:
Many and various ordinances follow, keeping flesh in check to the end of Deuteronomy 25.
So the law does not stop at murder and theft. It reaches the shameful reflex too.
Does a Christian carry out such a sentence today? Grant answers while commenting on another severe judgment in Deuteronomy:
This was solemn judgment. But again, it was under law. No one can carry out the same judgment under grace, though the crime is abhorrent to God. Grace seeks to restore rather than to condemn.
One more warning is worth keeping beside this. Writing on a quotation taken from this same chapter, Hole cautions the reader who goes hunting for hidden meanings:
Keep a tight rein on the imagination when you search the law like this. A dreamy mind can produce parallels that only seem to fit. They may be meant sincerely, but they are nothing but fancy running wild!
- Measure. The chapter holds to a righteous and equal measure. Stripes may be due, but nothing may go past the limit or destroy respect for a brother.
- Advantage. When feelings run high, an unfair hold draws the sternest rebuke. A good cause never excuses a shameful grip.
- Dignity. These rules guard each person from disgrace in his brothers' eyes, and keep purity and uprightness in the nation.
- Flesh. The severity fits the target. This whole section of law keeps fallen human nature in check, right down to household life.
- Grace. God still hates the offence, but grace does not carry out such sentences. Grace seeks to restore rather than condemn.