And these are the judgments which thou shalt set before them.
God has just spoken the ten commandments from the mountain. Now He turns to the daily traffic of life — servants, injuries, oxen, property — in rules Moses must place before the people. Two questions open up at once: what kind of law is a "judgment," and why does the very first one concern a servant?
The ESV calls them "rules." Older translations say "judgments," the word used in the quotes below. It points to fixed rulings for how Israel treated one another.
In this chapter we have various "judgments" or "fixed ordinances" recorded. The people had to keep them as the rule of their conduct in all their relationships with each other, and as fitting those who stood in covenant relationship with God. The penalties for breaking them clearly fit the character and principle of that relationship, which was law.
Commentators differ on how closely these rulings belong to the covenant itself. One writer sets them slightly apart, and defines a judgment from the words Psalm 19 uses for God's law.
These verses (Ex. 21:1-7) are not strictly part of the covenant: "Now these are the judgments that you shall set before them." Psalm 19:7-11 mentions several distinct things: testimony, statutes, commandments, judgments. These last I take to be God's decision on particular points. "The rules of the LORD are true, and righteous altogether."
These rulings belong to one body of law that stayed in force long after Sinai.
The chapter after the ten commandments opens with the "judgments," which Moses was to set before the people. If we turn to Malachi 4:4, we find both "statutes" and "judgments" mentioned as well as the "law." The three words clearly cover all the legislation that reached Israel through Moses. Note this as we begin: in the days of Malachi, nearly a thousand years after God first gave it, it was still as binding as at the beginning. It was for "all Israel," and valid all through that period.
These rulings say something about God, and something about the people who needed them. On God's side, the scales are perfectly even.
On God's part, we find Him enacting laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice... He provided for everything, maintained every interest, and met every claim. There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. He weighed each man's claim in a balance set with divine accuracy, so no one had any ground to complain of a decision.
The other side shows up in what the law forbids.
The fact that the LORD had to enact laws against certain crimes proves that man is capable of committing those crimes. If the capability and the tendency were not there, there would be no need of the enactments.
The matters handled here are small and ordinary, and that is the point.
The study of this section of our book is well designed to impress the heart with a sense of God's unsearchable wisdom and infinite goodness... Here, too, we may see the amazing condescension of Him who is the great God of heaven and earth. He can still stoop to judge between man and man over the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth.
The first case God decides after the commandments concerns a Hebrew servant.
This law about the Hebrew servant follows chapter 20, where God gives the ten commandments. Someone might ask, "What use was it for God to give a law that men did not want and could not keep?" Well, if God had not had the Lord Jesus Christ, the faithful Hebrew Servant, in reserve, it would not have been of much use. It could only have put Him in the place of a Judge. It would have brought out the justice of His throne, while His heart of love would never have been known.
One writer weighs what the servant gave up beside what Christ gave up.
The servant was perfectly free to go out, so far as he himself was concerned. But out of love for his master, his wife, and his children, he willingly bound himself to lifelong service, and was willing to bear its marks in his own body. The application of this to the Lord Jesus Christ is obvious. In Him we see the One who dwelt in the bosom of the Father before all worlds — the object of His eternal delight... But He loved the Father, whose purposes were involved, and the Church as a whole and every member of it, whose salvation was involved. So He came down to earth of His own will, emptied Himself, made Himself of no reputation, and took the form of a servant and the marks of perpetual service.
- Judgments defined. They are God's decisions on particular points, fixed rulings for how His people treated one another.
- Judgments in force. With the statutes and the law they form one body of law for all Israel, still binding in Malachi's day.
- Judgments reveal God. Even-handed justice: no distinction between rich and poor, no ground for complaint.
- Judgments reveal man. God writes laws only against crimes a heart can commit; the list is the diagnosis.
- Judgments open with a servant. A man free to leave stays for love. Behind the throne's justice stands the One who took the form of a servant, so God's heart of love could be known.
If thou buy a Hebrew bondman, six years shall he serve; and in the seventh he shall go out free for nothing.
Right after the thunder of Sinai and the law of the altar, God turns to ordinary life. The very first case He rules on is a servant's. Why does God start here? And why do commentators see Christ Himself in this bought Hebrew, set free in the seventh year?
A new kind of law starts here. One writer sets these rulings apart from the covenant, notes what God spoke about first, and says who this rule binds. (The older translation these writers quote says "judgments" and "Hebrew servant" where the ESV has "rules" and "Hebrew slave.")
These verses are not really part of the covenant — "Now these are the judgments that you shall set before them." … The very first thing God decides here is a detail about service: "If you buy a Hebrew servant." A captive would be in the power of his master. But this judgment concerns one under the law, a Hebrew servant. … The Gentiles — the nations outside Israel — were never under the law, and I do not find this judgment brought into the New Testament. Paul only gives directions of complete submission to the master, whether the master is a believer or not.
Slavery existed; God did not leave it unchecked.
Sin created disorder and misery. Yet Jehovah set merciful limits, above all for the people of His choice, until the day when all things are restored… An Israelite in sheer distress might be sold to one of his brothers. But it was never for life. As a rule the term was six years of servitude, and in the seventh he went out free for nothing.
Release was not the whole of it. A parallel passage adds what the master owed the man he set free, and what marked the man who stayed.
He was to get his freedom for nothing after serving six years. Deuteronomy commands the master not to let him go empty-handed, but to give him from his flock, his threshing floor and his winepress. In this Israel was to remember their own rescue from the house of slavery (Deut. 15:12-18). If the servant chose to stay with his master for ever, his ear was to be bored through as the sign of lifelong servitude (Deut. 15:17).
The setting is unpromising: a bought man in a fallen world. Yet commentators find God's Son pictured here.
At the beginning of Exodus 21 we find the picture, or type, of the servant. Christ is the constant object of the Holy Spirit, and nothing shows it more strikingly than this. Even in these temporary rules, God cannot help looking ahead to His Son. It is the condition of a slave; yet even there God has Christ before Him.
The clause that carries the weight is the seventh year. Christ met every claim on Him, and the right to leave was His.
He was the "Hebrew servant," the faithful servant who had served His time to the One whose servant He had become; and He might have said, now I can "go out free"; I have served my time, and I can "go out free" (v. 2). And indeed He did say, "I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed."
Because the right was real, the cross was never forced on Him.
He took the form of a servant. He came to do God's will — not His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him. He served His full allotted time perfectly, and might therefore have gone out free. For His own part, He had no need to go to the cross. Nothing made Him go but the constraint of His own heart. He longed to bring about the glory of God and to win His bride, the pearl of great price. Why then did He let Himself be nailed to that shameful cross? Because He loved His Master, His wife, and His children, and would therefore become a servant for ever. He loved His wife — the Church — and gave Himself for her. The same unchanging affection bound Him to His children, His own considered one by one.
What kept the servant was affection, and it cost him something visible.
The servant was perfectly free to go out, as far as he himself was concerned. He had discharged every claim, and could therefore walk out in unquestioned freedom; but because of his love for his master, his wife, and his children, he voluntarily bound himself to perpetual servitude — and not only that, he was also willing to bear in his own person the marks of that servitude.
That choice has no end date, and one writer follows it past the point where anyone still needs help.
As long as God's saint has need, the Saviour serves… But what about the day when there is no need left to meet? If there is no need on our part, there is love on His part, and love will always serve even when there is no question of need.
This reshapes how believers think about serving.
What redemption shows us is that we are free, yet free to serve. This is the fruit of redemption — that we are free to be servants of the Lord Jesus Christ, and of the saints, for His sake.
- Claim. God's first ruling after Sinai settles a servant's rights: six years of service, then release "for nothing."
- Limit. Six years, and no more: the seventh year ended the master's claim, and he sent the man away supplied, remembering Egypt.
- Love. Only love could extend the service — a free man choosing to stay, and wearing the mark of it.
- Lifelong. Christ met every claim and could have gone free. He stayed. His service runs on into glory, where no one needs anything and only love remains.
- Liberty. Redemption turns service into freedom: free, yet free to serve.
If he came in alone, he shall go out alone if he had a wife, then his wife shall go out with him.
Right after the terrors of Sinai, God's first rule is about setting a Hebrew servant free. Commentators read it on two levels: a real limit on servitude in Israel, and a picture of Christ, who came into service alone and could have left alone.
This law comes straight after the terrifying scene at Sinai, when God gave the law.
Straight after the awful terrors that went with the giving of the law came two laws. They set before us, in a beautiful and telling way, the person and work of the Lord Jesus, and God's grace by Him. It is like an evening rainbow after the thunder, lightning, and storm of a summer's day.
The rule is also narrow. It covers a servant under Israel's law, not servitude everywhere.
The very first thing God decides here is a detail about service: "If you buy a Hebrew servant." If he were a captive, he would be in the power of his master; but this judgment concerns one under the law, a Hebrew servant. The Gentiles were never under the law, and I do not find this judgment brought into the New Testament.
The verse sets two cases side by side, and the rule that follows in the next verse is harder still. Older translations read "if he came in by himself," where the ESV has "if he comes in single."
If he was alone in becoming a slave, he should be freed alone: if his wife was with him, then both should be freed (v. 3). However, if the master had given him a wife, then both the wife and any children she bore would still belong to the master, while he could be freed alone. This does not correspond to the grace of God today, but it illustrates the hardness of law alone.
Commentators are struck that a picture of Christ sits inside a rule about slavery.
At the start of Exodus 21 we find the picture of the servant. Nothing shows more strikingly that Christ is the one the Holy Spirit always has in view than this: even in these temporary rules, God cannot keep from looking ahead to His Son. No doubt the rule belonged to the earth, and to a condition that was in itself far from suitable to the mind of God. It is the condition of a slave; yet even there God has Christ before Him. If a Hebrew servant was bought, he was to serve six years, and in the seventh he was to go out free for nothing.
Applied to Christ, the first half of the verse describes His own case. He came into service alone, and by the law's own terms He could have gone out alone.
He "came in by himself," and He might have "gone out by himself" (v. 3). He was the only one who could ever have "entered into life" by keeping the commandments… He had a right to enter into life. The law knew nothing about saving a person. It promised life through obeying it: "the man who does these things shall live in them." The Lord Jesus Christ alone had earned life by obeying the law in every smallest detail, and He might have "gone out free."
But freedom on those terms would have left Him alone. The same writer explains what He chose instead.
He was the one grain of choice wheat. Had He not died, He would have remained alone — precious in Himself, but bearing no fruit. He might have "gone out free," but it would have been by Himself. He might have "entered into life," but it would have been alone. He would not do that. Instead He became obedient to death, so that He might see the fruit of the anguish of His soul, so that He might bring many sons to glory, so that He might have His wife and children. This was a voluntary act. Though free, He was free to serve; He is the One who came and had His ear bored so that He might serve for ever.
This reaches the reader too. Service and freedom are not opposites here.
Everyone has felt how painful the thought of service is to the natural heart. Unless we see that service goes together with freedom, that is what we will always think. Redemption shows us that we are free, and yet free to serve… If we did not know that we were free, we would only be seeking to serve ourselves.
- Alone. The servant who comes in single goes out single; his years of service add nothing to him.
- Alone, and free. Christ alone kept the whole law, so He alone could claim life by its terms and leave by Himself.
- Alone, and unwilling. A grain of wheat that does not die stays alone; He chose death rather than a freedom with no one in it.
- Not alone. Through that death He gains what the law could never give Him — a wife and children who leave with Him.
- Free to serve. Redemption makes service the choice of a free person, not the burden of a slave.
If his master have given him a wife, and she have borne him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall be her master's, and he shall go out alone.
The rule sounds harsh. The man goes out alone, and the wife his master gave him stays behind with her children. Why did God write such a condition into His law, and who does this servant picture?
The release is real, but it is a bare release. What the servant gained while he served is not his to take.
If he was alone in becoming a slave, he should be freed alone; if his wife was with him, then both should be freed (v. 3). But if the master had given him a wife, the wife and any children she bore would still belong to the master. He could go free only by himself. This does not correspond to the grace of God today, but it illustrates the hardness of law alone.
The verse leaves only two ways out. Keep your freedom and lose your family, or keep your family and lose your freedom. Writers see the same choice in Christ, who was free to go out by Himself.
He was the one grain of choice wheat. Had He not died He would have remained alone, precious in Himself, but He would have borne no fruit. He might have "gone out free," but it would have been by Himself. He might have entered into life, but it would have been alone. He would not do that. Instead He became obedient to death, so that He might see the fruit of the anguish of His soul, so that He might "bring many sons to glory," and so that He might have His wife and children. This was a voluntary act — though free, He was free to serve.
Notice where the wife came from. The master gave her, and so she stayed the master's. Writers see the same in the Father's gift to the Son.
The heart of Jesus could not be satisfied unless He had His Bride and children with Him where He was. So He had to carry His service down into the depths of death. "If his master gives him a wife." The bride is given to Jesus, just as God gave Adam a wife. In this I can never separate the Father's love from His gift of the Church to Jesus. Nor can I separate either from the love of Jesus for the Church in giving Himself for it. … If He loves His wife, He must serve for her.
In the next verse the servant speaks. He names his master before his wife and children.
We can only wonder whether any Hebrew servant ever said, "I love my master, my wife, and my children," putting his master before his wife and children. We can only say that the master would have to be a most wonderful person to be given such a place above them. But our blessed Lord did take the servant's place. He came first to do the will of God, devoted to His glory. He came second to build a bond with redeemed people that nothing will ever be allowed to break.
The servant's choice is not just for a time. It settles his place for good — and writers say the same of Christ.
Such was the choice of Jesus — not to be merely a servant here on earth for a time. He has chosen of His own gracious will to be servant for ever. Of course He must be a divine person, the Son, and He is also the exalted Lord. Yet by His own grace He is still the servant for ever. Even in glory we shall know Him this way. What is He doing now? He gave a sample of it before He went up on high. When the time was come, He took a basin of water and a towel, and washed His disciples' feet.
If the servant stays for those he loves, their future rests on him. Applied to Christ, that is where a believer's safety comes from.
In perfect grace He holds Himself responsible to receive all who come within the range of God's purposes. He is responsible not only to receive them, but to keep them through every difficulty and trial of their winding path down here — yes, even in death itself, should it come. And He is responsible to raise them all up in the last day. Oh, how secure is the feeblest member of the Church of God!
- Given. The wife was the master's gift, so she stayed his — and in the picture, the bride is the Father's gift to the Son.
- Costly. He could keep her only at the price of his freedom. To take his freedom, he had to leave alone.
- Chosen. The servant named his master first. Christ came first to do God's will, then to bind redeemed people to Himself.
- Permanent. The choice was not for another term but for ever — a Servant still, washing feet, and known as Servant even in glory.
- Secure. The Servant keeps what He stayed for. He receives His own, holds them through every trial, and raises them at the last day.
But if the bondman shall say distinctly, I love my master, my wife, and my children, I will not go free;
The words in this verse are a slave's own declaration, spoken at the moment the law would have set him free. Commentators read it as a picture of Christ's own choice: a servant who could walk away, but stays out of love. The older translation these writers use says "servant" where the ESV says "slave."
The six years were over and the door was open.
Here we have one of the shadows of good things to come. It is a shadow of the True Servant, the Lord Jesus Christ, who loved the Church and gave Himself for it. The Hebrew servant had served the legal time, so he was free to go out. But he loved his wife and his children. His love was so great that he gave up his own freedom for their sakes. He proved his love for them by sacrificing himself. He might have gone out and enjoyed his freedom, but what of them? How could he leave them behind? Impossible.
The servant had paid everything the law could ask. So the words "if the servant plainly says" open something new.
The Hebrew servant could go out free for nothing, after six years. So Christ had completely fulfilled every possible claim on Him. But it is added, "If the servant plainly says, I love my master." From here on it is no longer a question of law at all. He really had been under law. But now something else opens up.
The master stands ahead of the wife and the children.
We cannot help wondering whether any Hebrew servant ever said, "I love my master, my wife, and my children." Those words put his master before wife and children. We can only say that the master would have to be a most wonderful person to gain such a place. But our blessed Lord took the servant's place. He came first to do the will of God in devotion to His glory. He came second to establish a relationship with redeemed men that nothing will ever break.
The verse asks for the words to be said plainly. One writer points to Christ's prayer over the cup.
In verse 5 we read, "If the servant plainly says, I love my master." How plainly He said it! He cried, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will!" The servant is one who does not do his own will.
One writer names who the master, the wife, and the children stand for.
The servant is the Lord Jesus, who willingly took this place in coming into the world. Now He has chosen to be a servant forever. He loves His Master (God the Father). He loves His wife (the church of God, the assembly). He loves His children (everyone who has been born again).
Commentators differ on the children. Another writer applies the three relations to "His Father (or master), to His church (or wife), and to His earthly people (or children)."
Nothing forced the choice.
He served His full time perfectly, so He could have gone out free. As He said to Peter, "Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?" For His own part, He had no need to go to the cross. Nothing made Him go except the constraint of His own heart, and His desire to bring glory to God and to win His bride, the pearl of great price.
Love, not need, is what keeps this service going.
As long as there is need in the saint of God, there is service on the part of the Saviour. It is impossible that Jesus should not serve as long as there is a want to be met. But what about the day when there will be no need to be met? If there is no need on our part, there is love on His part, and love will always serve even when there is no question of need.
One writer hears the servant's exact words on Jesus' lips on the night before the cross, in John's Gospel.
The great Antitype of the Hebrew servant, pictured in Exodus 21:2-6, is found here saying, "I love the Father" — the equivalent of "I love My Master … I will not go out free."
- Free. The six years were finished and every claim met; the servant had a right to walk out with nothing owed.
- Love. Love, not law, produces the words of verse 5 — the master first, then the wife, then the children.
- Choice. He would not go out free, though twelve legions of angels were within reach; only His own heart held Him.
- Family. He stayed because going free meant leaving them behind. Commentators read the wife and children as the church and His own people.
- Forever. The choice made Him a servant forever — serving now in our need, and still serving in glory when no need is left.
then his master shall bring him before the judges, and shall bring him to the door, or to the door-post; and his master shall bore his ear through with an awl; and he shall be his bondman for ever.
A servant has served his term and can walk away free. He refuses — and three actions seal his choice: a hearing before God, a door, and an awl.
Nothing holds this servant back. He can walk out, and stays only for love.
As far as he himself was concerned, the servant was completely free to go. He had met every claim, and could walk away in freedom no one could question. But because he loved his master, his wife, and his children, he chose to bind himself to service for life. And not only that: he was also willing to carry the marks of that service on his own body.
The ESV reads "bring him to God." Older versions say "to the judges." One word lies behind both:
In Exodus 21:6 — and twice in chapter 22:9, and once in chapter 22:8 — the word for "judges" is "elohim," which means God. That is because the judge stands there for God, and God has established the authorities that exist. We are to submit to them.
The doorway marks where a household begins and ends.
The doorpost was the sign of personal limits; by it the family entered, and no one else had the right. So it was not something a stranger could claim. Above all, it belonged to the household. This is also why the blood of the Passover lamb was put on the doorpost. As far as that house was concerned, it held back the hand of God from the firstborn inside — but from no one else.
The mark costs him something. The quote below uses the older wording of Psalm 40:6, because the point turns on that one word.
This is far from obedience forced by the threat of punishment. The slave chooses to suffer pain and shed his blood rather than stop serving. And there is no doubt that the right reading of this sees it as a picture of the divine Servant. Of His own will He binds Himself to service for ever, because He loves God and the spiritual Bride. In Psalm 40:6 He says, "You have opened My ears." The word translated "opened," kahhrah, is translated "pierced" in Psalm 22:16 (my hands and my feet).
Another commentator names who each figure in the scene pictures, and why the ear was the part marked.
The servant is the Lord Jesus, who willingly took this place when He came into the world (Philippians 2:7). He has willingly decided to be a servant forever, because He loves His Master (God the Father), He loves His wife (the church of God, the assembly), and He loves His children (every person who has been born again). The boring of the ear teaches us something too. A hearing ear is the main mark of a true servant. Here the boring of it reminds us of the death of the Lord Jesus in obedience to His Father's will. That death confirms that He is a servant forever.
Writing on the Gospel of John, another commentator hears the servant's own words from the Lord:
The Hebrew servant of Exodus 21:2-6 pictured a greater Servant. Here that Servant is found saying, "I love the Father." It means the same as "I love My Master … I will not go out free." And in John 13:1 we already had the statement of His love for those pictured by the wife and children in Exodus.
He could still have walked away at that moment. He did not.
So the Lord presented Himself in this wonderful way as taking the form of a servant, with His ear bored. This was not about His becoming a man. But when He had served the seven years, He says, I will not go out free. He remains a servant for ever. He might have had twelve legions of angels and gone out free; but that is not what He came for. He said, I will be a servant for ever.
The servant stayed for love, and those he stayed for are kept by that love.
Jesus loves the Father. The security of every member of the redeemed family matches the strength of that love. When a sinner believes on the name of the Son of God, his salvation is, in one sense, simply the expression of Christ's love to the Father.
- Free — The servant owed nothing and could walk out. He stayed only because he loved.
- Declared — He says his reason aloud, and his master brings him before God. The choice is public.
- Marked — The awl draws blood at the doorpost, where the Passover blood also went.
- Forever — The pierced ear fixes the choice for good. The One it pictures could have called twelve legions of angels and left. He would not.
- Secure — Love for the Master sealed the bond, so the wife and children are as safe as that love is strong.
And if a man shall sell his daughter as a handmaid, she shall not go out as the bondmen go out.
Exodus 21:7 turns from the male Hebrew servant of the earlier verses to a daughter sold by her own father. Her release does not follow the same rule. Two hard questions follow. Why does God's law allow such a sale at all? And why is she treated differently from the men?
The law did not create bond-service. It stepped into a custom already running through the ancient world and set limits on it.
The words ebed and doulos (the words most often used for "servant") mean bondmen or slaves. Some were bought with money and some were taken in war… A bought servant who was circumcised could eat the Passover among the Israelites, because as one who was bought he belonged to the family; a hired servant could not. (In the same way non-Jews, though outsiders, bought with the blood of Christ, have every privilege of grace.) This kind of servitude was a result of sin, yet the law of Moses recognised it and gave rules about it, including rules to protect the slaves.
The rules made Israel's practice unlike anything around her.
Slavery had not yet been driven out of Israel. We must always remember that the Word itself says the law could not bring perfection. Yet the law guarded and limited slavery so far that it became a different thing from the total control over another person's will that every nation around them counted as lawful.
The men went out free in the seventh year. She does not. The reason is not that she matters less. Her place may become a marriage instead of a term of work.
The law did not forbid the sale of one's daughter to another man as a female slave (v.7). She would not, however, go free in the year of jubilee, because by then she might be her buyer's wife, or the wife of his son (vv. 8-9). Yet the law did protect her. If the buyer was not pleased with her, he had to let her father or another relative buy her back. But he must not sell her to a foreigner.
The verse names the person in the whole household with the least power to defend herself. That is exactly why the following verses spell out her rights in detail.
Verses 7-11 deal with the case of the woman who becomes a bondservant. As the weaker party she might become the victim of wrongful treatment, so her rights are clearly defined.
Her master could not do as he pleased. The law closes every route for discarding an unwanted woman.
Though she might "not go out as the male slaves do," God in His tenderness carefully guarded her rights in the place she held. People too often treat those who are completely under them and dependent on them according to their changing moods and whims. This was not to be… He must not degrade her in her service, and he could not sell her to a foreign nation. By his dishonest dealing he had lost rights he would otherwise have had. Whether she was promised in marriage to his son or to himself, her rights were carefully kept; and if he neglected them by taking another wife, she was to go completely free. So, in His compassionate love, the Lord surrounds His weak and defenceless ones with laws that secure fair and considerate treatment for them.
The same character runs through the whole section of judgments.
…the consideration of each would yield valuable instruction as witnessing to God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and in a position of inferiority, and, as such, might be subject to oppression, and of being unjustly dealt with by those who were stronger and in a place of authority over them.
This verse falls short of what Christians accept today. Commentators say so plainly instead of defending the practice.
We may note that under the law some things were allowed that Christians today would not tolerate. The Lord's own words in Matthew 19:7-8 show this. Always keep in mind that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19), since it set out the minimum of God's demands… Christ realizes and displays the full measure of all God's thoughts and desires.
The servant rules at the start of this chapter were temporary, yet God had something lasting in view.
At the start of Exodus 21 we find the picture of the servant. Nothing shows more strikingly that Christ is the constant object of the Holy Spirit than this: even in these temporary rules, God cannot help looking ahead to His Son. No doubt it was tied to the earth, and to a condition that was anything but suitable to the mind of God. It is the condition of a slave; yet even there God has Christ before Him.
- Sin's result. Bond-service came from sin, not from God's design. The law found it in place and fenced it in.
- Guarded, not endorsed. What Israel practised was "another thing" from the total ownership that the nations around them treated as normal.
- Different, not lesser. She does not leave in the seventh year, because her place may become a marriage. If her master rejects her, he must let her be bought back, and he must never sell her abroad.
- The weakest named first. God protects the one least able to protect herself. A master's changing moods may not decide her life.
- A floor, not a ceiling. The law set God's minimum. Christ shows His full mind — and this chapter's servant rule was already picturing Him.
If she is unacceptable in the eyes of her master, who had taken her for himself, then shall he let her be ransomed to sell her unto a foreign people he hath no power, after having dealt unfaithfully with her.
Exodus 21 is a run of case laws. Verse 8 takes the hardest case in the chapter: a girl sold by her father, taken by her master as his own, and then unwanted. The verse settles what he may and may not do with her. It shows how God guards someone who cannot guard herself.
These verses open a different kind of law. One writer builds on the word Scripture uses for them — "rules" in the ESV, "judgments" in older translations.
These verses (Ex. 21:1-7) are not properly a part of the covenant: "Now these are the rules that you shall set before them." Psalm 19:7-11 mentions several distinct things — testimony, statutes, commandments, judgments. I take these last to be God's decision on certain points. "The rules of the LORD are true, and righteous altogether."
Read across the whole section, these decisions have a common concern.
Considering each statute would yield valuable instruction, as they witness to God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and in a lower position. Such people might face oppression and unjust dealing from those who were stronger and in a place of authority over them.
The previous verses release a Hebrew manservant in the seventh year. Verse 7 says the daughter does not go out that way, and verse 8 explains what happens instead.
The law did not forbid the sale of one's daughter to another man as a female slave (v.7). She would not, however, go free in the year of jubilee. She might be her purchaser's wife before that time, or the wife of his son (vv. 8-9). Yet the law did protect her. If the buyer was not pleased with her, he should let her father or another relative redeem her. But he must not sell her to a foreigner.
The verse turns on a word that carried far more weight in Israel than a modern engagement does — and that Scripture also uses of God's own commitment.
The Jews saw this as being as binding as marriage. Only divorce could end it. The law gave certain rules about a betrothed woman: Ex. 21:8-9; Deut. 20:7; Deut. 28:30. The word is also used as a picture of the LORD's favour to His ancient people in a future day, when He will "betroth" them to Himself for ever (Hosea 2:19-20), and of the position in which the church stands to Christ (2 Cor. 11:2).
The reason given for the ban on selling her abroad is that he has broken faith with her. So the man's own conduct limits his power over her. Her way out opens at the moment his affection fails.
Though she might "not go out as the male servants do," God in His tenderness carefully guarded her rights in the position she held. Too often people treat those who are under them and fully dependent according to changing moods and whims. This was not to be. If her master changed his mind, and she became evil in his eyes (see margin), she should have the option of redemption. He must not degrade her in her service, nor could he sell her to a foreign nation. By his deceitful dealing he had forfeited rights he would otherwise have had... So, in His compassionate love, the Lord surrounds His weak and defenceless ones with laws. Those laws secure fair and considerate treatment for them.
Commentators are careful not to read this verse as God's ideal for how people should live.
Verses 7-11 deal with the case of the woman who becomes a bondservant. As the weaker party she might become the victim of wrongful treatment, so the law defines her rights. We may note that the law permitted things Christians today would not accept... We must always bear in mind that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19). It set out the minimum of God's demands. So everyone who fell short of it, in any way or at any time, came under the sentence of death. Christ realises and sets out the maximum of all God's thoughts and desires.
Even at that minimum, the character of the One speaking shows through the fine print.
Reading this section draws the heart out in adoration. Deep wisdom, well-balanced justice, and tender thoughtfulness breathe through the whole of it. We come away from studying it with one conviction pressed deep into the soul. The One who speaks here is "the only true," "the only wise," and the infinitely gracious God.
- Judgments. These rulings are God's decisions on particular cases, not the same as the commandments. They are true and righteous altogether.
- Weakness. The whole run of statutes protects those in an inferior position from the stronger people set over them.
- Betrothal. Designating her for himself bound him as marriage did. Scripture uses the same word for God binding Himself to His people.
- Forfeit. When he breaks faith, he loses rights he would otherwise have held. Her family may redeem her, and he cannot sell her to foreigners.
- Floor. The law set the minimum God required, not the full measure of His mind. Christ shows that. Yet even here God's wisdom, justice and tenderness show through.
And if he have appointed her unto his son, he shall deal with her after the law of daughters.
One line in Israel's slave laws changes a girl's whole standing: given to the buyer's son, she is family, not property. So why did God set rules inside slavery at all, and what do those rules show about the way He treats the powerless?
These rulings come straight after the ten commandments. Commentators tie the law about servants to the commandment about parents and children. That is why the master who gives a bought girl to his son is measured as a father, not as an owner.
"The first of these sections," says Murphy, "refers to the duties of masters and servants, and is therefore a natural expansion of the fifth commandment, which relates to parents and children." This is true, and it teaches us a great deal. How instructive, and yet how simple, that the master is here seen in the place of the parent! The commandment is dealing with slavery — an evil that could not yet be removed, and that in the limited form allowed here often became a benefit. That was true above all if the slave became, as it were, the adopted child of his master, or the maidservant became the wife of her master or of his son!
A reader may wonder why she was not released like the male servants. The answer is that she was not bought only for labour. Marriage was in view, either to the buyer or to his son. And if the buyer changed his mind, she still had a way out.
The law did not forbid a man to sell his daughter to another man as a female slave (v.7). But she would not be set free in the year of jubilee. By then she might already be the wife of the man who bought her, or the wife of his son (vv. 8-9). Yet the law did protect her. If the buyer was not pleased with her, he had to let her father or another relative buy her back. But he must not sell her to a foreigner.
People with full power over others often treat them by how they feel that day. God closed that door. Whether she was promised to the master or to his son, her rights held. If he ignored them, she went free.
Though she might "not go out as the male slaves do," God in His tenderness carefully guarded her rights in the place she held. Far too often, people treat those who are completely under them and dependent on them according to their changing moods and whims. This was not to be… Whether she was promised in marriage to his son or to himself, her rights were fully protected. If he neglected them and took another wife, she was to go completely free. So, in His compassionate love, the Lord surrounds His weak and defenceless ones with laws that secure fair and considerate treatment for them.
Readers today notice that this arrangement falls short of what Christians accept. Commentators say the same, and they explain why. The law was never God's last word.
Verses 7-11 deal with the case of the woman who becomes a bondservant. As the weaker party she might become the victim of wrongful treatment, so her rights are clearly defined. We should note that under the law God allowed things that Christians today would not tolerate. The Lord's own words in Matthew 19:7-8 show this. We must always remember that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19), since it set out the minimum of God's demands… The full measure of all God's thoughts and desires is realized and set out in Christ.
Measured against the surrounding nations, though, these rules were a marked improvement.
The law given by Moses had done much to soften slavery in Israel… In this the law of Moses stands in contrast with other codes, and even with the selfish and proud Christian world… In view of Jewish, or simply human, hardness of heart, much was tolerated under the law that was far from God's mind, until He came Who is the truth in grace.
- Sold. A father's poverty could put his daughter in another man's house. The law faces that fact instead of hiding it.
- Betrothed. She was not bought for work alone. Marriage to the buyer or to his son was in view, so she was not simply set free.
- Adopted. Given to the son, she takes a daughter's place in the house. The master now stands to her as a parent.
- Guarded. Her rights could not be cut back by anyone's changing mood. If they were ignored, she left free and owed nothing.
- Surpassed. Compared with other nations' codes, these rules were mercy. Yet they were only God's minimum. His full mind appears in Christ.
If he take himself another, her food, her clothing, and her conjugal rights he shall not diminish.
These verses deal with a woman who became a bondservant and was then promised in marriage to her master or his son. This verse names three things he may never cut back if he takes another wife — and it raises a harder question: why did God allow this at all?
One writer describes what kind of rules fill this chapter, and why Israel had to keep them:
In this chapter we have various "judgments" or "fixed ordinances" recorded. God commands the people to keep them as the rule of their conduct in all their dealings with each other. Such conduct suits those who are in covenant relationship with God.
The law here protects the person with the least power in the household:
Verses 7-11 deal with the case of the woman who becomes a bondservant. As the weaker party she might become the victim of wrongful treatment, so the law defines her rights clearly.
The verse names food, clothing and marital rights. One writer traces the whole chain of protections around her, and the motive behind them:
She did not go out free as the male servants did, yet God in His tenderness carefully guarded her rights in the place she held. Too often you can see people treating those who are completely subject and dependent according to changing moods and whims. This was not to be. If her master changed his mind, and she became displeasing in his eyes, she was to have the option of being redeemed. He must not degrade her in her service, and he could not sell her to a foreign nation. By his dishonest dealing he had forfeited rights he would otherwise have had. Whether she was promised in marriage to his son or to himself, God carefully guarded her rights. If he neglected them when he took another wife, she was to go completely free. So the Lord, in His compassionate love, puts laws around His weak and defenceless ones. Those laws secure fair and considerate treatment for them.
The same protective aim runs through the whole chapter, and it is aimed at a specific danger:
It is not necessary for our purpose to look at each statute in detail; a few will be enough, though thinking through each one would give valuable instruction, since they all witness to God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and in a position of inferiority, and who for that reason might be oppressed and unjustly treated by those who were stronger and in a place of authority over them.
The verse assumes a man may take a second wife. Writers are clear that this reflects the limits of law, not the heart of God:
We may note that the law permitted things Christians today would not tolerate. The Lord's own words in Matthew 19:7-8 show that this was so. We must always keep in mind that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19), since it set out the minimum of God's demands, so that everyone who in any way or at any time fell short of it came under the sentence of death. The maximum of all God's thoughts and desires is realized and set out in Christ.
Another writer explains why the law bore with such things:
The law was good in itself, but it could not make anyone good. There were certain concessions in the law which did not express the divine mind at all. In them God was dealing with a people after the flesh. The law does not view a man as born of God; Christianity does. It spoke to all Israel, not to believers only, so it bore with certain things because their hearts were hard. The righteousness of the law stands as far as it goes. But it stops short of perfection, because in some cases it allows a lesser evil in order to avoid a greater one.
The customs are gone; the moral weight is not:
These statutes contain moral principles that do not change from one age to the next. The law is not the rule of the believer's life. Still, as the Apostle says in Romans 8:3-4, "God … condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit."
- Weakness — She is the weaker party in the household. That is why the law writes her rights down instead of leaving them to goodwill.
- Guarded — Food, clothing and marital rights may not be reduced; she may not be degraded, and she may not be sold abroad.
- Freedom — If the three duties fail, she leaves free and owes nothing; neglect costs the master his claim.
- Minimum — The law set out God's least demand and made nothing perfect. Some things it allowed were concessions to a people in the flesh, not a picture of God's mind.
- Maximum — Christ displays all that God wants. The moral principle behind the rule stands, and the Spirit fulfils it in the believer.
And if he do not these three things unto her, then shall she go out free without money.
Exodus 21 sets out the everyday rules for life in Israel. This verse closes a short block of law about a daughter sold into service and taken as a wife, and it names what her master owes her.
The three things named just before this verse are food, clothing, and marriage rights. They are not favours but duties. If the master withholds them, she leaves free and owes nothing.
She did not go free as the male servants did, but God in His tenderness guarded her rights in the position she held. Far too often, people treat those who fully depend on them according to changing moods and whims. This was not to be. If her master changed his mind and she no longer pleased him, she had the option of being redeemed. He must not degrade her in her service, and he could not sell her to a foreign nation. By his dishonest dealing he had forfeited rights he would otherwise have had. Whether she was promised in marriage to his son or to himself, her rights stood. If he neglected them when he took another wife, she should go completely free. So, in His compassionate love, the Lord surrounds His weak and defenceless ones with laws. These laws secure fair and considerate treatment for them.
Notice who this law is aimed at. It is written for the person with no leverage — the one who could not enforce anything for herself.
Verses 7-11 deal with the case of the woman who becomes a bondservant. As the weaker party she might become the victim of wrongful treatment, so her rights are clearly defined.
The same instinct runs through the whole set of rules that follow. Commentators reading the chapter as a whole draw out the pattern:
No one may take advantage of the weak or of those under authority. Violence cannot go unpunished, any more than dishonour where we owe respect... No one may trouble or afflict a stranger, a widow or an orphan. No one may burden the poor or insult the judges.
A ruling about one woman's food and clothing can look too small for the God of heaven and earth. That contrast is the point.
Studying this section of our book is well suited to impress the heart with God's unsearchable wisdom and infinite goodness... Here, too, we see the amazing condescension of Him who is the great God of heaven and earth. He can still stoop to judge between man and man about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. ...He governs the universe, and yet He can take time to provide a covering for one of His creatures.
The rule itself says something uncomfortable about the people who received it. A man does not need to be told not to starve his wife unless he might.
The Lord had to make laws against certain crimes. That proves man is capable of committing them. If man had no ability and no leaning towards them, such laws would not be needed... Those very statutes prove one thing beyond question. Even the most refined and cultured person carries in his heart the seeds of the darkest and most horrifying wrongs... Deep as man's ruin is, the love of God is deeper still. Black as his guilt is, the blood of Jesus can wash it all away. Wide as the gap is between man and God, the cross has bridged it.
The law regulates this arrangement instead of ending it. One writer explains why the law was never God's final word.
The law allowed some things that Christians today would not tolerate. The Lord's own words in Matthew 19:7-8 show this. We must always remember that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19). It set out the minimum of God's demands, so anyone who fell short of it in any way or at any time came under the sentence of death. The maximum of all God's thoughts and desires is realised and set out in Christ.
Measured against the world these rules were given into, that minimum still shines:
The consideration of each would yield valuable instruction, showing God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and in a position of inferiority, and who, being such, might be oppressed and unjustly treated by those who were stronger and in a place of authority over them.
- Rights, not favours. Food, clothing and marriage rights were hers by law, not by her master's mood. God does not leave dependent people at the mercy of changing whims.
- Release without ransom. If he neglected those three duties, she went out free. His failure, not her money, ended the bond.
- Written for the weak. God surrounds His weak and defenceless ones with laws. The same care covers strangers, widows, orphans and the poor.
- A God who stoops. The One who governs the universe judges between man and man over a garment or a tooth. No detail is too small for His goodness.
- A floor pointing higher. The law set the minimum of God's demands and exposed what human hearts hold. The maximum of His thoughts is set out in Christ, where the cross bridges the gap.
He that striketh a man, so that he die, shall certainly be put to death.
A single sentence sets the value God places on human life: to strike a man down is to forfeit your own life. Why is the penalty so absolute? Who may demand it? And does it still stand now that grace has come?
The command at Sinai did not invent the death penalty. Writers trace it back to the words God spoke to Noah after the flood.
This is not a new law. To Noah God had said, "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in His own image" (Gen. 9:6). God said He would require the life of man at the hand of every man's brother. So He made man his brother's keeper. He guarded the man He had made in His own image by the most solemn penalty He could impose. Life belongs to Him, and He could not let anyone else trespass on what is His alone.
The crime is not just harm done to a victim. It touches the God whose image the victim bears.
The image of God expresses man's place and responsibility of representing God... The murderer does not only interfere with man and injure him to the last degree. By killing a man he also defaces God's image, and God sentences him to die. Murder is an unwarrantable seizing of what belongs to God. Only the death of the murderer upholds God's honour and maintains God's will.
The right to execute is not man's own. One writer traces it back to God.
God's command gave it being, so it can never stop carrying His authority, whether men listen or refuse to listen. One part of the charge stands out above the rest: man is responsible to put to death the one who sheds man's blood... So the idea that this is in any way a right belonging to man is cut off. It is a right of God. Ever since the flood He has been pleased to entrust it to human keeping. Those in authority are bound to enforce it in subjection to Him, and one day they must give account to Him for how they used it.
The murderer had nowhere to hide. Not even God's altar could shelter him.
Life belongs to God. As the Giver of life He exercises His right: He demands the life of the one who has taken a life he cannot restore. The sentence cannot be reduced. Even if a murderer took hold of God's altar, it would do him no good. Joab's case shows this (1 Kings 2:28-34).
Commentators agree that it does not. They point to what the New Testament says about civil authority.
The New Testament reminds us that the earthly authority "does not bear the sword in vain" (Rom. 13:4). This shows that the coming of grace in Christ has not cancelled what God has established about government in the earth. Authorised government takes its course, but murder is strictly forbidden.
Dennett answers a common objection: does the Sermon on the Mount set this law aside?
The word of God gives no support to the modern movement to abolish the death penalty. It substitutes human ideas in the place of God's original law. In fact, it exalts man over God. Our Lord's directions in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5:38-48) apply only to relationships among fellow-subjects of His kingdom, not to those between man and man. So they in no way set aside the command given to Noah.
The next verse makes room for the man who did not lie in wait. One writer follows that opening to the cross.
Apply these laws to what the Jewish nation did to Christ. They did "lie in wait," and in the end they used bribery and cunning to secure His arrest and condemnation. It might seem that no escape was possible for them. But our Lord Himself prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). So if they repent, God in grace will count it as ignorance on the ground of that prayer, and give them a city of refuge for escape and safety... Grace can relieve from the penalty of the law, on the ground of the atonement for sin that Christ worked out by His death.
- Cause — The law does not start at Sinai. It starts with Noah, and its reason is that God made man in His own image.
- Claim — Life belongs to God. The murderer trespasses on what is God's alone, and defaces the image God placed in man.
- Charge — The sword is not man's by right. It is God's right, entrusted to those in authority, who must answer to Him for how they use it.
- Closure — No refuge for the guilty. Even gripping God's altar did not save Joab. The sentence cannot be reduced.
- Compassion — Grace has not cancelled government (Rom. 13:4). Yet on the ground of Christ's atonement, grace can still lift the law's penalty from those who repent.
But if he have not lain in wait, and God have delivered [him] into his hand, I will appoint thee a place to which he shall flee.
A murderer must die. But this verse turns to a different man: he did not lie in wait, God "let him fall into his hand," and God appoints him a place to run to.
This death sentence is not new at Sinai. It goes back to God's word to Noah, and it rests on what man is.
To Noah God had said, "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image." He would demand the life of man from every man's brother. So man was made his brother's keeper. God protected the one He had made in His own image by the most solemn penalty He could exact. Life belongs to Him, and so He could not allow another to trespass on His prerogative.
Against that background, this verse opens a door. The laws on the cities of refuge fill it out later, and show why God gave it: an avenger would be chasing the killer with a hot heart.
There is, however, in Exodus 21:13 a notable exception made. Deuteronomy 19 and Numbers 35 deal with this provision in fuller detail, where they speak of the cities of refuge. How precious is the grace and the compassion of the heart of God, expressed in Deuteronomy 19:6! The avenger of blood, with his heart hot, must not overtake the manslayer and strike him down because the road is long — when he did not deserve to die, since he had not hated him beforehand.
The verse does not treat the death as chance: God let it happen. Commentators carry that phrase forward to the death of Christ.
How often had they sought to take Jesus! But this could not happen until God Himself delivered Him into their hands. So Jesus said to Pilate, "You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above." In grace their terrible deed is not regarded as wilful. It is attributed to God having delivered up Jesus by His determinate counsel and foreknowledge (Acts 2:23).
Applied to Israel, the wording looks like a closed door: their plotting was deliberate. What opens it is the prayer of Christ.
Apply these statutes to the action of the Jewish nation against Christ. Remember how they did "lie in wait," and how they at last succeeded by bribery and cunning in getting Him arrested and condemned. It might seem as if there were no possible escape for them. But our Lord Himself prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." So God in grace, if they repent, will count it ignorance in them on the ground of this intercession, and appoint them a city of refuge for escape and safety… Grace can relieve from the penalty of the law, on the ground of the atonement for sin that the death of Christ worked out.
"I will appoint for you a place" — the refuge is God's provision, not man's idea. Writers apply it to the reader.
God Himself provided the cities of refuge; He would not have the manslayer treated as a murderer; nor will He have you treated as guilty of the murder of His Son, if you flee to Christ, the refuge He has provided in the richness of His mercy. The manslayer's hope was liberty through the death of the High Priest; those God shelters now hope to enter His presence and glory at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
One condition remains: the man must match the verse's description. If he does, the shelter is as strong as the God who gave it.
Here we have a very exact description of the man for whom God provided the city of refuge. If he did not answer to it, the city was not for him. But if he did, he might feel the most perfect assurance that a gracious God had thought of him. God had found a refuge for him, where he might be as safe as the hand of God could make him. Once the slayer found himself inside the city of refuge, he might breathe freely… No avenging sword could reach him there, not a hair of his head could be touched there.
- Blood — the death penalty for murder rests on man being made in God's image. Life belongs to God, and He lets no one trespass on that right.
- Exception — if the killer did not lie in wait, God steps between him and the hot-hearted avenger. The man "did not deserve to die."
- Hand — the killing is not chance: God let him fall into his hand. So with Jesus: men seized Him only when God delivered Him up by His determinate counsel.
- Refuge — Israel plotted, yet the prayer "Father, forgive them" opened a way. Grace counts it ignorance and appoints them a place, on the ground of the atonement.
- Safety — the man who answers to the exact description is as safe as the hand of God can make him. Flee to Christ, and God will not treat you as guilty of His Son's death.
But if a man act wantonly toward his neighbour, and slay him with guile, thou shalt take him from mine altar, that he may die.
Exodus 21 moves from the ten commandments into case law. Here God separates a death that happens from a death someone plans. The previous verse promised a place to flee for the man who did not lie in wait. This verse takes that refuge away from the man who did.
The verse turns on two words: willfully and by cunning. Both mark the killing as planned:
Whoever was guilty of murder was himself to be put to death. Whatever people may say today against the death penalty in cases of proven murder, at least they cannot say it is unjust. But if the case was not deliberate murder but manslaughter, the law provided a city of refuge where the guilty man could flee for safety. On this, see Deuteronomy 19:1-3. But where the murder was premeditated, the penalty was death (v. 14).
This was not a fresh rule invented at Sinai. It reaches back to the command given to Noah after the flood, and rests on what man is — a creature made in God's image:
To Noah God had said, "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in His own image" (Genesis 9:6). He would demand the life of man from every man's brother. So man was made his brother's keeper. God guarded the one He had made in His own image with the most solemn penalty He could exact. Life belongs to Him, and He could not allow anyone else to take what is His alone... For wilful murder there was no release from the penalty, even if the murderer had fled for protection to God's altar.
A frightened man could grip the horns of the altar and plead for his life. This verse breaks that grip. Joab, David's army commander, found that out:
Joab flees to the tabernacle and takes hold of the horns of the altar. That cannot save him. The Word of God is against him: "But if a man willfully attacks another to kill him by cunning, you shall take him from my altar, that he may die" (Ex. 21:14). Solomon remembers this. Once Joab's judgment is settled, it is too late for the altar to shelter him.
The same place gave opposite outcomes to two men in the same crisis:
In Scripture horns stand for strength... The horns of the altar suggest that everything the altar stood for came to a point here, focused and intensified... It also explains the significance of a guilty man coming here for refuge and laying hold of them. Adonijah sought safety there and found it (1 Kings 1:50). Joab, at the same place of asylum, met the just reward of his sins (1 Kings 2:28-34).
Joab's failed grip carries a warning far past ancient Israel:
The horns of the altar became a place of refuge. No one could break into that sanctuary. It sheltered everyone who had a right to its protection on the ground of the sprinkled blood. Joab sought this protection when he fled from Solomon (1 Kings 2:28). But he had no claim on it, for he was a murderer, and Solomon had him killed. It is the same with a sinner in desperate trouble. He would gladly claim the benefits of the death of Christ to escape judgment, while his heart is still far from Him. But where someone truly trusts the value of that sacrifice, no power in earth or hell can touch the soul that rests under its shelter.
The exception in the previous verse — the man who did not lie in wait — is where mercy enters. One commentator applies it to the nation that condemned Christ:
Apply these statutes to what the Jewish nation did against Christ. They did "lie in wait," and in the end they succeeded by bribery and trickery in having Him arrested and condemned. It might seem there was no escape for them. But our Lord Himself prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). So God in grace, if they repent, will count it as ignorance on the ground of that prayer. He will appoint them a city of refuge for escape and safety. So Peter, preaching to them, said, "I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers" (Acts 3:17). Grace can relieve from the penalty of the law, on the ground of the atonement for sin made by the death of Christ.
- Life — the rule goes back to Noah and Genesis 9:6: life belongs to God, and man carries God's image.
- Intent — the law weighs what was in the heart first: no ambush means a place to flee; ambush and guile mean death.
- Altar — the sanctuary that saved Adonijah did not save Joab; a place of mercy is no hiding place for a murderer.
- Faith — a heart still far from God can clutch at Christ's death and gain nothing; the sprinkled blood shelters only those who trust it.
- Grace — the exception is Israel's hope: Christ's own prayer lets God count their act as ignorance, and His atonement covers it.
And he that striketh his father, or his mother, shall certainly be put to death.
God's law places a blow against a parent alongside murder and kidnapping, in a short list of crimes carrying the death sentence. Why does God treat a blow against a father or mother so seriously? The answer the commentators give turns on the authority parents carry.
This verse sits in a group of offences that all carry the same sentence. Writers trace the principle back long before the law was given.
Exodus 21:12-17 lists certain offences that carry the death penalty, and murder is named among them. But this is no new law, as Genesis 9:5-6 plainly shows. God alone knows the heart of man, and He has called it "deceitful above all things and incurably wicked." When He gave Noah the government of the earth, He made provision for guarding man's life in the most solemn terms — terms no human laws can set aside.
The verse does not describe a killing. One writer lists the kinds of people the law was made for. His list names the act in view here.
The law is made for the lawless and unruly, for the ungodly and sinners, for the unholy and profane, for those who beat their fathers and those who beat their mothers… the fourth pair is violent contempt for parents, stopping short of killing. Compare Ex. 21:15.
Striking a parent and cursing a parent (v. 17) carry the same sentence. The reason given is that the authority parents hold is not their own.
Both striking and cursing father or mother (vv. 15, 17) carried the same penalty. In this way God set up parental authority under the holy sanctions of His law, and He required children to treat it with reverence. Disobedience to parents is given as one sign of the dangerous times of the last days (2 Tim. 3:2). That shows how highly God values the subjection of children to their parents. For it is God's authority that parents represent, and so that authority is absolute when it is used for God. It demands full and unconditional obedience. (See Deut. 21:18-21; Eph. 6:1; Col. 3:20.) So these sins are grave ones. But if striking and cursing earthly parents deserves death, how much worse is open rebellion against God.
after-note: DELETE
Commenting on a similar law about parents, one writer traces the act to its root.
Setting up one's own will against a parent's authority is akin, in a lower way, to renouncing the true God for a false one.
Another writer puts the same truth positively. He points past the command to the order behind it.
This is not only God's authority giving commands, nor even His statements about where actions lead. It is the order He has set up in the relationships He established among people, above all the place of parents. To be subject to them is really to own God in His order. It is the first commandment with promise.
The sentence is severe. One writer says so plainly, then sets it against what all sin earns.
We also see the severity of God on display in the law. It passes the death sentence on sins that people today do not count worthy of death — verses 15, 16 and 17, for instance. Yet we must remember that the wages of sin — of all sin — is death.
Christians do not live under this legal code. Yet the duty it guarded still stands — and one writer says grace lifts it higher.
Believers in Christ are not under law but under grace. That does not free us from these obligations, because the great point to press is obedience to a God-given authority. Under grace, as Paul teaches in his letter to the Ephesians, we rise higher in keeping these things, since heavenly motives now move us.
- Order. Parents hold a place God assigned. Obeying them is owning the order God set up among people.
- Blow. The verse targets violent hands laid on a father or mother — violent contempt for a parent, stopping short of killing.
- Weight. God set the same penalty on striking a parent and on cursing one. The act stands beside murder and kidnapping in Exodus 21:12-17.
- Depth. Setting your own will against a parent's authority is, in a lower way, kin to renouncing the true God for a false one.
- Today. Grace does not cancel the claim; it lifts it. Scripture names disobedience to parents as a mark of the last days.
And he that stealeth a man, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall certainly be put to death.
One sentence in Israel's civil code puts kidnapping on the same level as murder. Why does God guard a person's freedom with the death penalty? What does that say about the worth He places on a human being?
This law sits in a block of rulings that follow the ten commandments. They cover everyday life among the people. One writer sees the whole set as a mark of God's care, not cold legislation:
This section holds the various "judgments" or statutes that God gave to govern His people in all their relationships… They give a striking view of God's care for everything that touched the walk and ways of His people. And if penalties are attached to breaking these laws, that only fits the arrangement He had now set up.
These rulings open out the ten commandments. This chapter works from one of them in particular:
If in Exodus 21 we get judgments which give an extension to "You shall not murder," we find in Exodus 22 judgments giving an extension to "You shall not steal."
The verse closes two doors at once. The sale is not what makes the crime. Still holding the victim is enough.
The law's demands were most stern, as verse 15 shows… A kidnapper also was to be put to death, whether he had sold his victim or whether he held him as a captive (v. 16).
Commentators trace this severity back to God's word to Noah, long before Sinai:
Exodus 21:12-17 lists certain offences that carry the death penalty, and murder is named among them. But this is no new command, as Genesis 9:5-6 clearly shows. When God gave Noah the government of the earth, He provided for the preservation of man's life in the most solemn terms, which no human laws can set aside… Life belongs to God. As the Giver of life He requires the life of anyone who has taken a life he cannot restore, and the sentence cannot be softened.
The law treats stealing a person as an attack on life itself. A human being is not a thing to be moved and priced. Even a sinner, whose case before God is unsettled, carries a value no one may trade on.
Man-stealing and man-selling — slavery in fact, as still practised in many parts of the world — also carried the penalty of death (v. 16). A man may be a sinner. God has claims on him too, claims that must be met before he can be delivered. Even so, he is of such value in God's sight that his fellow man must treat his liberty as sacred. How astonishing that professed followers of Christ could defend slavery in its worst forms — stealing, selling, and holding men as mere property — with such a scripture in front of them, and within living memory!
One comment pairs this law with a rule about lending, and names the motive behind both:
A creditor might take a pledge from his poor neighbour, but not the hand-mill that ground his grain day by day. That would be taking a man's life as a pledge. And the greed that would go so far as to steal the man himself was to be punished with death.
The New Testament condemns the same crime. It also changes how a Christian master must see the person he owns.
Paul sent Onesimus, a runaway slave, back to his master, who was a Christian, and did not demand his release. Instead he beautifully puts it to Philemon that he should have Onesimus no longer as a slave, but as a beloved brother… Christianity taught equal treatment of slaves, as we see in several of the letters in which masters are addressed: "men-stealers" are condemned. 1 Timothy 1:10.
- Setting — The verse sits among the "judgments" that follow the ten commandments. These rulings show God's care for every relationship among His people.
- Ground — The death penalty is not new law. It rests on what God said to Noah, in terms no human law may set aside.
- Crime — Selling the victim and holding him both carry the same sentence. A kidnapper has no safe halfway point.
- Reason — God values a person so highly that his liberty is sacred, even while he is still a sinner with matters unsettled before God.
- Reach — Greed is the root the law strikes at. The New Testament condemns "men-stealers" too, and treats a slave as a brother, so no one can defend slavery from Scripture.
And he that curseth his father, or his mother, shall certainly be put to death.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And if men dispute, and one strike the other with a stone, or with the fist, and he die not, but take to [his] bed,
A fight breaks out, one man is struck down with a stone or a fist, and he survives — and God stops to legislate the outcome. The injury is real, but the man lives. So what does justice look like when a life cannot be paid for a life?
The law drew a clear line between deliberate murder and a killing that was not intended.
A murderer had to be put to death himself. People may argue against the death penalty today, but in a case of proven murder they cannot call it unjust. But if the case was not deliberate murder, only manslaughter, the guilty man could go to a city of refuge for protection.
The man is hurt but recovers. So the attacker pays instead of dying, and his victim's losses set the price.
Verses 18 and 19 deal with the question of a physical quarrel and one striking another with his fist or other weapon, so that he is injured. If the man did not die, there was no death penalty. Instead, the one who injured him had to pay for the time his victim lost, and for any medical costs, until the person was fully healed.
The God who rules heaven and earth takes the trouble to settle a fight between two men.
This part of the book shows what a kingdom looks like when God Himself gives its laws. Here, too, we see something amazing. The great God of heaven and earth still stoops to judge between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth.
These rulings never leaned toward the man with more money.
God provided for everything, guarded every interest, and met every claim. He showed no favouritism and made no distinction between rich and poor. He weighed each man's claim on scales set with divine accuracy, so no one had a fair reason to complain about a ruling. Bribery, corruption and favouritism were never to stain the pure robe of justice.
Two things stand out in these rulings. God protects the bodies of His people. Yet the rule He applies here goes no further than an exact equivalent.
The first is that all these commands show God's tenderness. He protects the bodies of His people, especially those who serve under others. The second is that we find here the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth. Our Lord Himself quotes these words to show how they contrast with grace. He says, "You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also" (Matthew 5:38-39). Under law an exact equivalent is required — no more and no less. But grace can cancel every claim. God has dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle with one another.
Rules like this one exist because the behaviour they forbid is possible.
The fact that the Lord had to make laws against certain crimes proves that man is able to commit them. If the ability and the tendency were not there, there would be no need for these laws. But man is capable.
- Cause. Two men quarrel, and one strikes the other with a stone or a fist. The rule exists because men really do this.
- Limit. The man lives, so the attacker does not lose his life. Deliberate murder carried the death penalty.
- Cost. The wrongdoer pays for the victim's lost time and for his medical care until he is fully healed.
- Care. God stoops to settle even small disputes. He weighs every claim and never favours rich over poor.
- Contrast. Law demands an exact equivalent, no more and no less. Grace can cancel the claim, and that is what Jesus taught in place of eye for eye.
-- if he rise, and walk abroad upon his staff, then shall he that struck [him] be guiltless; only he shall pay [for] the loss of his time, and shall cause [him] to be thoroughly healed.
A fight breaks out. One man is struck down with a fist or a stone, and he survives. God Himself lays down what happens next. In one street quarrel He shows what a man's body, time and recovery are worth to Him.
God gave this law to govern a nation, yet the cases it settles are small and everyday.
Here, too, we may see the amazing condescension of God. He is the great God of heaven and earth. Yet He can still stoop to judge between one man and another over the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like the Lord our God, who humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth?" He governs the universe. Yet He can still busy Himself with providing a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm.
The line he quotes from the Psalms comes from an older translation.
If the injured man gets up and walks with his staff, the attacker escapes the death penalty. He does not escape the bill.
Verses 18 and 19 deal with a physical quarrel where one man strikes another with his fist or some other weapon, so that he is injured. If death did not follow, then there was no death penalty. But the one who caused the injury had to pay for the time the injured party lost. He also had to cover any medical costs that came from it, until the injured man had fully recovered.
The size of that bill is not left to the anger of the victim or the wealth of the attacker. The same justice runs through every law in the code.
First, on God's part, we find Him making laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice... He provided for everything, maintained every interest, and met every claim. There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. He weighed each man's claim on scales set with divine accuracy, so no one could fairly complain of a decision.
Notice who this law protects: the man flat on his back, unable to earn. That direction of concern runs through the whole section.
All these laws reveal the tenderness of God in protecting the bodies of His people — and especially of those in a lower position. Here we also find the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.
Parts of this law code trouble readers today. Why did God allow what no Christian would accept now?
We may note that under the law things were permitted that Christians today would not tolerate. The Lord's own words in Matthew 19:7-8 show that this was so. We must always remember that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19). It set out the minimum of God's demands, so anyone who fell short of it, in any way or at any time, came under the sentence of death. Christ realises and sets out the maximum of all God's thoughts and desires.
So may an injured believer today still send the bill? Jesus took up these rules of exact repayment and gave His answer.
Our blessed Lord specially quotes these provisions to point out their contrast with grace. He says, "You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also" (Matt. 5:38-39). Law demands an exact equivalent — no more, and no less. But grace can cancel every claim. God has dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle towards one another. But never forget that grace itself is built on righteousness, and so it reigns through righteousness (Rom. 5:21).
- Stooping. The God who governs the universe bends down to judge one man's quarrel with another over an ox, a garment, or a tooth.
- Paying. The injured man lived, so the striker escaped the death penalty — but he paid for the lost time and the healing.
- Weighing. God weighed every claim with divine accuracy: no partiality, no gap between rich and poor, no more and no less.
- Guarding. These laws show God's tenderness in protecting the bodies of His people, especially those in a lower position.
- Releasing. Law demands the exact equivalent; grace can cancel every claim — and Christ sets out the maximum of God's thoughts.
And if a man strike his bondman or his handmaid with a staff, and he die under his hand, he shall certainly be avenged.
The laws of Exodus 21 follow straight after the ten commandments. They govern Israel's daily life, and here God speaks for the one person in the house with no legal defence: the servant under his master's rod. Why was such treatment allowed at all, and what does the limit tell us about God?
A master might assume his ownership is absolute. The chapter opens by placing the master himself under an authority.
Special duties of masters are first considered. They may think they have full authority over their slaves, but they must first remember God's authority over themselves. God clearly limits their authority over slaves.
The next verse draws a line, and gives only one reason for it.
A man who struck his servant and caused his death would face the death penalty himself. But if the servant lived on for a day or two before dying, that penalty did not apply. The only explanation given for this is, "for he is his money" (v. 21).
The ESV renders that phrase "for the slave is his money." Still, a master who killed his servant outright answered for it as a killer.
Read together, these rules show God guarding the bodies of the people least able to guard themselves.
All these laws reveal the tenderness of God in protecting the bodies of His people — and especially those who live under someone else's authority.
Notice how small the matters are that God bends down to settle.
Here, too, we may see how amazingly God lowers Himself. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He can still stoop to judge between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like the Lord our God, who humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth?"
The Judge behind these courts shows no favour.
God provided for everything, upheld every interest, and met every claim. He showed no partiality, and made no distinction between the rich and the poor. He weighed each man's claim in a balance set with divine accuracy, so that no one could fairly complain of a decision… The stroke of justice fell only on the head of the guilty, while God protected every obedient soul in the enjoyment of all his rights and privileges.
These measured penalties are what Jesus later set His own teaching against.
We find here the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth. Our blessed Lord especially quotes these provisions to point out their contrast with grace. He says, "You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." Law demands an exact equivalent — no more, and no less. But grace can release every claim. God has dealt with us in grace and released our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle with one another.
But why was such treatment allowed at all? One writer points to what the law could and could not do:
The law allowed things that Christians today would not allow… We must always remember that "the law made nothing perfect" (Heb. 7:19). It set out the minimum of God's demands, so that anyone who fell short of it in any way came under the sentence of death. Christ shows the maximum of all God's thoughts and desires.
These laws also say something uncomfortable about us.
The Lord had to enact laws against certain crimes. That proves man is capable of committing those crimes. If the capability and the tendency were not there, no such laws would be needed. These statutes prove beyond all question that even the most refined and cultivated member of the human family carries in his heart the seeds of the very darkest and most horrifying evils.
- Limit — The master's power is not absolute. God's authority over the master is the first thing established, and it caps what he may do.
- Life — A servant's life is not the master's to spend. Kill him under your hand, and you answer for it with your own.
- Care — Behind the limit stands God's tenderness. It reaches the lowest place in the house — even a servant's lost tooth.
- Justice — God shows that care without favour. He weighs rich and poor in the same balance, and the blow of justice falls only on the guilty.
- Grace — Law gives the exact equivalent, no more and no less. Christ, quoting this very rule, opened something law never held: a claim that can be released.
Only, if he continue [to live] a day or two days, he shall not be avenged; for he is his money.
Exodus 21 moves from the Ten Commandments to case law. This verse deals with a master who beats his servant, and the servant lives on for a day or two before dying. The stated reason for the lighter outcome — that the servant is the master's property — raises two hard questions. What did God permit here? And what was He holding back?
The verse is the second half of a pair. One writer sets out the ruling and the single reason given for the difference.
Anyone who struck his servant and caused his death would incur the death penalty himself. Yet if the servant lived even a day or two before dying, the penalty would not be carried out. The only explanation given for this is, "for he is his money" (v. 21).
Read alone, the clause sounds like the master owns a life. The chapter cuts that idea down at the start. It opens with what masters may and may not do.
Special duties of masters are considered first. They may think they have full authority over their slaves. But they must first remember God's authority over themselves. God limits what they may do.
That limit is real. Six verses later, a master who destroys a servant's eye or knocks out a tooth loses the servant. The injured man walks out free.
These rules look harsh on their own. Set them beside the nations around Israel and they look different. One writer draws that comparison.
The slave of those days was the property of his master. The law of Moses was merciful. It protected the Jewish servant from a cruel master. Among the other nations there was almost no legal check on a harsh master, and a slave there could suffer the most brutal treatment.
Commentators do not defend the institution these laws regulate. One calls it what it is, while noting the softening effect of the limits placed on it.
This commandment deals with slavery. It was an evil that could not be removed yet. In the limited form allowed here, it often became a benefit — above all when the slave became something like the adopted child of his master.
Another writer says the same about these rules as a whole. They improved on the practice of the nations around Israel. They still fell short of God's own mind.
The law given by Moses had done much to reduce the harshness of slavery in Israel… Still, we freely admit that the law made nothing perfect, here as everywhere else. Because of human hardness of heart, the law tolerated much that was far from God's mind. That lasted until He came who is the truth in grace. Christ changed everything, and the bondman became His freedman.
Elsewhere the same reasoning is applied to the servant-woman of verses 7-11, where things were permitted that Christians today would not tolerate — the law set out the minimum of God's demands, while everything He desires is set out in Christ.
The verse belongs to a block of rulings that measure damage and match penalty to injury. One commentator draws two conclusions from the whole section. The second explains why this verse feels cold.
The first is that all these rules show the tenderness of God. He protects the bodies of His people, above all those under someone else's power. The second is that we find here the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for eye, and tooth for tooth. Our blessed Lord quotes these rules to show how they differ from grace… Law demands an equal return — no more and no less. Grace can cancel every claim.
Law can weigh a case and set a boundary. It cannot produce a heart that would never strike at all. That is why the same chapter opens with a servant who stays because he loves his master. He is the opposite of a man valued as money.
- Property — The verse gives one reason and no other for the lighter penalty: the servant was the master's money.
- Limit — Ownership did not mean unlimited power. God's authority stood over the master. Killing a servant brought punishment. Injuring one cost him the servant.
- Mercy — In the nations around Israel a master faced almost no legal check. These rules gave real protection to the person with the least power.
- Tolerated — Writers call slavery an evil that could not be removed yet. The law tolerated much that was far from God's mind, because it made nothing perfect.
- Christ — Law weighs damages and stops there; grace cancels the claim. The chapter that prices a servant also opens with the servant who refuses freedom out of love.
And if men strive together, and strike a woman with child, so that she be delivered, and no mischief happen, he shall in any case be fined, according as the woman's husband shall impose on him, and shall give it as the judges estimate.
Two men fight, a pregnant woman is hit, and her child comes out early. The law calls for a fine, but it names both her husband and the judges — so who really sets the penalty?
This chapter is a block of case law. These rules were not abstract ideas. They set how neighbours were to deal with each other day by day.
This chapter records various "judgments" or "fixed ordinances." The people were commanded to keep them. They were to shape their conduct in every dealing with each other, as fits those who are in covenant relationship with God. The penalties for any breach of them plainly match the character and principle of that relationship, which was law.
The penalty matches the outcome. The ESV says her children "come out"; the writer quoted here takes that as a miscarriage. He reads the further harm in the next verse as harm to the woman, and he shows that even the harsher penalties aimed at fair repayment.
If men are fighting and a woman suffers a miscarriage, the person responsible must pay some compensation. The woman's husband demands it, or a judge decides it. But if the woman herself was harmed, the guilty party had to answer for that too. The judgment then matched the injury — "eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe" (vv. 24-25). Of course, tearing out a man's eye because he had blinded another's eye would not help the injured person. But that person is entitled to fair repayment.
This verse names the judges, and that is the key to the famous "eye for eye" rule. It speaks to the courts, not to the injured man's own hand.
The principle of "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth" belongs to the legal directions that governed the daily life of the people. It is not a rule for one person's conscience. It is a legal direction for the authorities and judges of Israel. Exodus 21:22 and Deuteronomy 19:18 make this clear, because both name the judges. The direction rested on the principle of complete fairness in repaying the deed. It was meant to warn the people and hold them back (Deut. 19:20).
These rules can look like dry legal detail. One writer draws out what they say about God Himself.
All these laws reveal the tenderness of God in protecting the bodies of His people, and above all the bodies of those in a lower position.
The matching penalty works as a limit. Without it, anger would ask back more than it lost.
Under the old order we find that the law laid down the principle, in righteousness, "An eye for an eye" (Ex. 21:24), and by that it restrained the anger of man. Otherwise he would have demanded two eyes for one, out of revenge.
Jesus quoted this very standard when He taught His disciples. What He asked of them went past anything they had heard.
Here the Lord goes beyond all Jewish, and indeed all human, thought. He tells His disciples to bear every kind of wrong done to them with patient grace. They must not resist it. He quotes the law's principle of retaliation, as it is called, to set it aside. That principle was wide open to abuse. Even when judges applied it with the strictest justice, it acted as a strong check on the desire for revenge. Yet it was still far from the mind of heaven which Christ was showing on earth.
The same writer turns this contrast into a rule for how we treat others.
Law demands an exact equivalent — no more, and no less. But grace can cancel every claim. God dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle towards one another. Never forget, though, that grace itself rests deep in righteousness, and so it reigns through righteousness (Rom. 5:21), on a foundation that never changes.
- Judgments. This verse is case law. It is a fixed rule for how God's covenant people treat each other, and its penalties fit that relationship.
- Judges. The husband may name a claim, but the court settles it. This verse shows that "eye for eye" was an order to judges, not permission for private payback.
- Measured. The matching penalty restrains anger, which would otherwise demand two eyes for one. It was fair repayment and a warning to all.
- Tender. Behind the legal detail is God's care for the bodies of His people, above all the weaker ones.
- Beyond. Christ quoted this standard and set it aside for His own. Law asks the exact equivalent. Grace can cancel the claim, because ours was cancelled first.
But if mischief happen, then thou shalt give life for life,
These case laws come right after the Ten Commandments, and this one covers a fight that injures a pregnant woman. It raises two questions: is "life for life" cruel, and how does it fit with the grace Jesus teaches?
The matching penalties say something about the Lawgiver, not only about the offender.
On God's part, we find Him making laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice… That was the character of the laws, the statutes, and the judgments God used to govern His earthly kingdom of Israel… There was no partiality — no difference made between the rich and the poor. God weighed each man's claim on a balance set with divine accuracy, so no one could fairly complain of a decision. The stroke of justice fell only on the head of the guilty, while God protected every obedient person in the enjoyment of all his rights and privileges.
The rule is not a slogan. It answers one specific injury, and the penalty rises or falls with the damage done.
If a fight causes a woman to lose her child, the person responsible must pay compensation, as the woman's husband demands, or as a judge decides. But if the woman herself suffered harm, the guilty party answered for it, and the judgment matched the injury… Of course, taking out a man's eye because he had blinded another's eye would not help the injured party. But he has a right to fair compensation.
Verse 22 has already put the matter before judges. That settles who may apply the measure.
The principle of "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth" belongs to the legal directions that regulated the daily life of the people. It is not a principle for the conscience of a private individual. It is a legal direction for the authorities and judges of Israel. Exodus 21:22 and Deuteronomy 19:18 make this clear, since both name the judges. The direction rested on absolute fairness in repaying the deed, and it served as a warning and deterrent to the people.
There is a practical reason the sentence had to come from a judge rather than the injured man.
"An eye for an eye" is fully righteous recompense, and it expresses the firm inflexibility of the law. Of course a judge must pass the sentence, not the offended party. If a man takes the law into his own hands, he will nearly always inflict worse treatment than he received.
When Israel applied this rule, the nation acted for God. Writers point out that the believer today does not stand in that place.
If in their law they were to exact "life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth…" (Ex. 21:23-25), they did it as the executors of God's governmental righteousness… No thoughtful Christian can look at this trust given to Israel without seeing how completely it contrasts with the believer's position today. Some argue that this is because the world has been educated to a higher level. Let us ask one question — has God been educated?… The Israelite was the agent of God's righteous government on earth; the Christian displays God's grace on earth.
Two things stand out here. God cares for the bodies of the weak. And law settles a claim exactly, with nothing added.
The first is that all these rules reveal the tenderness of God in protecting the bodies of His people — and especially those in a subject position. The second is that we find here the true character of law. Grace is absent… Our Lord especially cites these provisions to show how they contrast with grace (Matthew 5:38-39). Law demands an exact equivalent — no more and no less; but grace can cancel every claim. God has dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle towards one another… Never forget, though, that grace itself rests on a deep foundation of righteousness.
The law's principle comes naturally to us. The attitude Christ calls for does not.
It sets out an attitude of mind that is very foreign to the flesh, which cries, "Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth…" (Ex. 21:23-25). We can understand the law principle as men in the flesh… But grace — how slow we are to understand it, and slower still to practice it, though we owe everything to it!
- Measure. The penalty matches the damage exactly — no more, no less — and applies to rich and poor alike.
- Mother. The rule answers a real case. A pregnant woman is hurt in a fight, and the sentence rises only if lasting harm follows.
- Magistrate. This is direction for judges, not licence for the injured man. Anyone who avenges himself nearly always overpays.
- Ministry. Israel carried this out as God's agent of government on earth. The believer today stands elsewhere and displays God's grace.
- Mercy. Law demands the exact equivalent. Grace can cancel the claim — and grace itself rests on righteousness.
eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot,
This verse sits inside a set of case laws for daily life in Israel, including cases of people hurt in fights. Its famous phrase raises two questions: was God allowing revenge, and why did Jesus later set the rule aside?
The rule appears in a case where a woman is injured. The penalty had to match the harm done.
If there were bad results for the woman, the guilty party had to answer for it. The judgment would match the injury — "eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe" (vv. 24-25). Of course, plucking out a man's eye because he had blinded another's eye would not help the injured party. But he has a right to fair compensation.
The words were never handed to the injured man as permission to act. They belong to the courtroom.
This law contained moral directions for the life of each Israelite. It contained ceremonial directions — the laws of the offerings — so that the children of Israel could serve God. It also contained legal directions to regulate the daily life of the people. The principle of "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth" belongs to the last group. It is not a principle for the conscience of a particular individual, but a legal direction for the authorities and judges of Israel. This is clear from Exodus 21:22 and Deuteronomy 19:18, where the text names the judges. The direction rested on absolute fairness in repaying the deed. It was also meant to warn the people and keep them from such deeds.
In private hands the rule turns into something worse than the first wrong.
Of course a judge must pass the sentence, not the offended party. If a man takes the law into his own hands, he will almost always inflict worse treatment than he received.
The measure was a ceiling on what an injured man could claim.
Under the old arrangement we find that the law laid down the principle, in righteousness, "An eye for an eye" (Ex. 21:24), and by it restrained the anger of man. Otherwise he would have demanded two eyes for one, in revenge.
The same exactness runs through these laws, and it guards rich and poor alike.
The law provided for everything, upheld every interest, and met every claim. There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. God weighed each man's claim with divine accuracy, so no one had a just reason to complain of a decision. The pure robe of justice was not to be stained with bribery, corruption and favouritism.
These laws also say something uncomfortable about the people who received them.
The Lord had to make laws against certain crimes. That proves man is capable of committing them. If the capability and the tendency were not there, there would be no need of the enactments.
One thing is missing from all this fairness.
Here we find the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth. Law demands an exact equivalent — no more, and no less. Grace can cancel every claim. God has dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle toward one another. But never forget: grace itself rests on a foundation laid deep in righteousness.
Jesus later quoted this verse to His disciples and gave them a different rule.
He quotes the principle of retaliation from the law to set it aside. It was wide open to abuse. And even applied with the strictest justice, and acting as a powerful check on the desire for revenge, how far it was from the mind of heaven! That mind is what Christ was showing on earth, and laying down as the only conduct fitting for the sons of His Father.
Giving up private revenge does not abolish public justice.
The Christian must not avenge himself. That duty in no way clashes with the government of God carried out by magistrates. They get their authority from Him to restrain and punish evil.
- Measure. The penalty matches the real injury — fair compensation, never more and never less.
- Magistrate. It is a direction for judges, not a rule for the victim's conscience. Private hands always strike harder than the wrong deserves.
- Muzzle. Far from licensing revenge, the exact measure caps it, holding back the man who would demand two eyes for one.
- Mirror. The law shows God's justice without favouritism. It also shows man able to commit the very crimes it forbids.
- Mercy. Law can only demand the exact equivalent. Grace can cancel the claim. The forgiven disciple lives by grace, while public justice still stands.
branding for branding, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.
This verse closes a list of bodily injuries with one measure: the penalty matches the harm, item for item. Is that cruelty or restraint — and why did the Lord set His own teaching against it?
Commentators read the list as a picture of God's even-handed rule over Israel.
First, on God's part, we find Him making laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice. "Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe." Such was the character of the laws, the statutes and the judgments by which God governed His earthly kingdom of Israel. There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. The scales that weighed each man's claim were set with divine accuracy, so no one could justly complain of a decision.
A burn, a bruise, a knocked-out tooth are small matters in the running of a nation.
Here, too, we see how amazingly low He stoops. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He judges between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like the Lord our God, who humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth?"
The measure was addressed to those who tried cases, not to the person who had been hurt.
The principle of "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth" belongs to the legal directions that regulated the daily life of the people. It is not a principle for the conscience of a particular individual, but a legal direction for the authorities and judges of Israel. Exodus 21:22 and Deuteronomy 19:18 make this clear, since both name the judges. The direction rested on absolute fairness in repaying the deed. It was also meant to warn the people and hold them back from evil.
Take it out of the court's hands and the measure collapses at once.
"An eye for an eye" is fully righteous repayment, expressing the firm inflexibility of the law. Of course the sentence must be passed by a judge, not by the offended party. If someone takes the law into his own hands, he will in practically every case inflict worse treatment than he received.
Israel carried out this measure as God's agent on earth.
If in their law they were to exact "life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth… stripe for stripe," it was as the executors of God's governmental righteousness… No intelligent Christian can look at this trust given to Israel without seeing how completely it contrasts with the believer's position now. Is this, as some have argued, because the world has been educated to a higher level? Let us ask one question — has God been educated?
Two things stand out in these rulings.
The first is that all these enactments show the tenderness of God in protecting the bodies of His people — and especially of those in a subject position. The second is that we find here the true character of law. Grace is absent… Our Lord points to these very rules to show how they contrast with grace… Law demands an exact equivalent — no more and no less. But grace can cancel every claim. God dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle towards one another. Yet never forget: the foundation of grace itself is laid deep in righteousness.
The believer's new rule does not cancel the state's right to punish crime.
The law of Moses said, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." With the Christian it is quite different. God has dealt with him in grace, so he must also act in grace towards others. The word to him is "never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.'"… This duty not to avenge himself in no way clashes with God's government through magistrates. They get their authority from Him to restrain and punish evil.
- Measure. The penalty matches the injury exactly — no more and no less — so no one, rich or poor, could complain of the verdict.
- Judge. God gave this measure to Israel's judges, not to the injured man. In private hands, repayment always runs past the injury.
- Care. God stoops to rule on a burn, a wound, a servant's tooth. He guards the bodies of His people, above all those under another's authority.
- Contrast. Law demands the exact equivalent. Grace can cancel the claim — and the Lord pointed to this very rule to show the contrast.
- Practice. God has dealt with the believer in grace, so he does not avenge himself but leaves vengeance to Him. Magistrates still carry their God-given task of punishing evil.
And if a man strike the eye of his bondman or the eye of his handmaid, and it be marred, he shall let him go for his eye.
Exodus 21 belongs to the "judgments" — the case laws given right after the Ten Commandments. Here a master injures his servant, and the price is not a fine but the man's freedom: why should liberty be the cost of an eye?
The verses just before this one lay down the rule of equal payback: eye for eye, tooth for tooth. One writer asks what that rule would do for the injured man.
Of course, to literally pluck out someone's eye because he had blinded another's eye would not help the injured party. But he is entitled to a fair recompense.
Verse 26 applies that principle to a servant, male or female alike. The master cannot pay in kind, so he pays in liberty.
This is intimated in verse 26. If a man blinded the eye of his slave, he must let him go free for his eye's sake, and similarly, if he knocked out his tooth (v. 27).
Even a knocked-out tooth bought the servant's freedom.
These case laws share one direction: they lean toward the person who cannot fight back.
The study of each statute would yield valuable instruction. They witness to God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and in a lower position. Such people might suffer oppression and unjust treatment from those who were stronger and in authority over them.
The same writer measures the modern world against that standard, and finds it wanting.
What we see around us today is a sad and sobering testimony to how far man has departed from God, and to his refusal to be subject to these ordinances. As the Preacher says, "Again I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun. And behold, the tears of the oppressed, and they had no one to comfort them! On the side of their oppressors there was power, and there was no one to comfort them" (Ecclesiastes 4:1).
The chapter does not pretend the servant was anything other than owned property. A few verses earlier, that ownership limits the penalty for a fatal blow.
One who struck his servant and caused death would incur the death penalty himself; yet if the servant lingered even a day or two before dying, the penalty would not take effect. The only explanation given for this is, "for he is his money" (v. 21).
Verse 26 turns that around. The master's money walks out the door, and he must let it go.
These rules protect the body, but they do not rise above strict justice — and the writers are careful to say so.
All these enactments reveal the tenderness of God in protecting the bodies of His people — and especially of those in a subject position. We also find here the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth. Our blessed Lord quotes these provisions to point out their contrast with grace. He says, "You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also" (Matthew 5:38-39). Law demands an exact equivalent — no more and no less. But grace can remit every claim.
But who was to apply this rule?
It was not for them to avenge themselves. The words were instruction to the judges in their administration of justice. But we are called to more than righteousness. The Christian standard is vastly higher than the Jewish.
Compared with the codes around it, this law was remarkable — and still incomplete.
The law given by Moses had done much to lessen slavery in Israel... In this the law of Moses stands in contrast with other codes — yes, and with selfish and proud Christendom. Among other privileges, Jewish slaves had the right to circumcision. They expressly enjoyed the Sabbath rest — a benefit to none more than to them. They had their place at the solemn assemblies of the year... Still, the law made nothing perfect, here as everywhere else. Because of Jewish or human hardness of heart, the law tolerated much that was far from God's mind, until He came who is the truth in grace. Christ changed everything, and the bondman became His freedman.
- Recompense — No payment could restore a blinded eye. So the law asked for what the master could give: the servant's freedom.
- Protection — These laws guard the weak, who could be oppressed by the strong set over them.
- Property — The chapter still calls the servant the master's money. Verse 26 costs the master that money the moment he maims the man.
- Limit — This is law, not grace: an exact equivalent, no more and no less. Judges applied it; the injured man did not take revenge.
- Fulfilment — The law lessened slavery, but made nothing perfect. Christ changed everything, and the servant became His freedman.
And if he knock out his bondman's tooth or his handmaid's tooth, he shall let him go free for his tooth.
One knocked-out tooth ends a master's claim, and this rule closes a run of injury laws. Why does God rule on something so small, and what does that say about the worth of a person another man owns?
Mackintosh is struck not by the size of the injury, but by God stooping to judge it at all.
Studying this section is well suited to impress the heart with God's unsearchable wisdom and infinite goodness. It lets us form some idea of what a kingdom governed by laws of divine appointment is like. Here, too, we may see the amazing condescension of Him who is the great God of heaven and earth. He can still stoop to judge between man and man about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth.
The section on servants opens by telling owners that they are not the top of the chain of command.
The law takes up the special duties of masters first. They may think they have full authority over their slaves. But they must first remember God's authority over themselves. For God decidedly limits their authority over slaves.
This verse is where that limit bites. The master who damaged his servant lost him.
The words "eye for eye, tooth for tooth" stand just before this verse. Grant says no one was meant to match wound with wound.
Of course, literally plucking out a man's eye because he had blinded another's eye would not help the injured party. But he has a right to a fair recompense.
Here the recompense is liberty. The servant walks away owning himself.
Read together, the injury laws of this chapter share one aim.
They witness to God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and lower in position. Such people could be oppressed and treated unjustly by those who were stronger and in authority over them.
Justice like this is exact. Dennett draws two lessons from it.
The first is that all these rules reveal the tenderness of God. He protects the bodies of His people, and especially those in a subject position. The second is that we find here the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth. Our blessed Lord Himself quotes these provisions to show their contrast with grace. He says, "You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." Law demands an exact equivalent — no more and no less. But grace can cancel every claim.
Dennett adds one guard. Grace itself rests on a deep foundation of righteousness, and so it reigns through righteousness.
These laws softened slavery in Israel, but softening was not God's last word.
The law given through Moses had done much to reduce the harshness of slavery in Israel... Still, we fully allow that the law made nothing perfect, here as everywhere else. Because of human hardheartedness, the law tolerated a good deal that was far from God's mind. This lasted until He came who is the truth in grace. Christ changed everything, and the slave became His freed man.
- Stoop — God governs heaven and earth. He still comes down to rule on the death of an ox, a borrowed coat, and a servant's lost tooth.
- Limit — Owners may assume total authority, but God's authority over them cuts theirs down first.
- Recompense — "Tooth for tooth" never meant matching wounds. The injured man has a right to fair payment, and for a servant that payment is his freedom.
- Shield — These judgments guard the weak and those under authority from the stronger who could oppress them.
- Beyond — Law measures every claim exactly, but it holds no grace. The law made nothing perfect. Only in Christ does the slave become a free man.
And if an ox gore a man or a woman, so that they die, then the ox shall certainly be stoned, and its flesh shall not be eaten; but the owner of the ox shall be guiltless.
Israel has just received the Ten Commandments. A long list of practical rulings follows. One of them covers a case every farmer feared: a working animal kills a person. The verse settles three things at once: the ox dies, no one eats it, and the owner walks away clear.
The closing laws of Exodus 21 all follow one standard:
The rest of the chapter is taken up with judgments connected with the ownership of cattle, and the violent acts they may commit, or the violence they may suffer. Everything is to be settled on a strictly righteous basis.
The law does not leave these cases to the mood of the injured family or to local custom.
An ox has no moral sense. It cannot be guilty in the way a murderer is guilty. Yet the ox still dies. The reason goes back long before Moses, to what God said to Noah after the flood:
Man's life has a value attached to it never before declared; and the more so because now for the first time it was for government, responsible to God, to uphold it. "And surely your blood, the blood of your lives, will I require." Even if a mere animal with no reasoning soul killed a human creature, that was no reason to pass it by. "At the hand of every animal will I require it; at the hand of man, even at the hand of every man's brother, will I require the life of man. Whoever sheds man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed, for in the image of God made He man" (Gen. 9:3-6).
Genesis 9 is quoted here, and again below, from an older translation than the ESV.
The animal does not die for a crime of its own. It dies because of the worth of the life it took.
A dead ox was still valuable meat. The law puts it out of reach:
If an ox gored a person to death, the people had to stone it to death, and no one was to eat its meat. The law did not hold the owner responsible unless someone had warned him that his ox was dangerous.
No one eats the animal, so no one gains from a human death. The dead ox is a total loss, and the owner carries that loss even though he did no wrong.
Being cleared is not a licence to ignore a dangerous animal. Where the owner knew and did nothing, the law goes much further:
The law requires the death of the owner too, and not only of the ox, if he knew about the animal's dangerous habit and made no provision to guard against it (v. 29). How vividly this brings to our minds the truth our blessed Lord taught: even the hairs of our heads are all numbered. The law provides for everything. It fits every relationship, and every breach of it, into the righteous government God had now placed Israel under.
The same God who counts hairs writes rules for stray cattle. Detail is not beneath Him.
One writer takes this principle straight into the modern argument over the death penalty:
But when a beast kills a man, God says, "at the hand of every beast will I require it." We see here that God maintains His title to life, even a beast's life... We all know that many are seeking to do away with capital punishment; but what do they care about God? The whole order of God is broken up now. Even a beast that kills should die. Genesis 9:6 gives the reason: "In the image of God He made man"; so it holds true right to the end.
- Image — The whole law rests on one fact: God made man in His own image. So He requires man's blood at the hand of man, and at the hand of every beast.
- Ox — Because of that image, the animal that kills a person must die. A beast has no reasoning soul and cannot be guilty like a murderer. Israel stones it all the same.
- Flesh — No one may eat the meat, so no one profits from a human death. The loss of the ox falls on the owner, even when the law clears him.
- Owner — He goes free only where he had no warning; if he knew his ox was dangerous and left it loose, his own life was forfeit.
- Government — God's righteous rule reaches down to stray cattle. The same care numbers the hairs of your head. And His claim on human life still stands, whatever men decide about it today.
But if the ox have gored heretofore, and it have been testified to its owner, and he have not kept it in, and it kill a man or a woman, -- the ox shall be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death.
Exodus 21:29 turns an accident into a crime: the same goring ox, but this time the owner had been warned and did nothing. The penalty jumps from "no liability" to death, which raises two questions: why does knowing change everything, and why does God make laws about a farm animal?
Verse 28 deals with an ox nobody could have predicted. Verse 29 deals with an ox everyone knew about. The full rule, including the way out allowed in the next verse, runs like this:
An ox that gored anyone to death had to be stoned, and no one could eat its meat. The owner was not responsible unless someone had warned him that his ox was dangerous. In this case, if he had not kept the ox penned in and the ox killed anyone, the owner as well as the ox was to be put to death (v. 29). But this penalty could be lifted if the victim's nearest relative agreed to accept ransom money instead.
The owner never touched the victim. What condemns him is that he knew the animal's habit and left the gate open anyway. The law answers his failure with an exact equivalent — his life for the life lost:
The same principle of righteous equivalence applies in these cases too. The owner's death, as well as the ox's, is required if he had guilty knowledge of the animal's tendency and had made no provision to guard against it (v. 29). How vividly this brings before our minds the truth taught by our blessed Lord, that even the hairs of our heads are all numbered. Everything is provided for. Every relationship, and every break in it, is set in order in harmony with the righteous government Israel now lived under.
Notice what God is willing to handle Himself. The God who governs the universe settles a dispute about a farm animal:
These laws give us some idea of what a kingdom governed by laws of God's own appointing is like. Here we may see the amazing humility of Him who is the great God of heaven and earth. He still stoops to judge between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. He governs the universe, and yet He can occupy Himself with providing a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm.
A rule like this only works if it binds the rich landowner as much as the poor neighbour who lost his wife. That is what these laws guarantee:
On God's part, we find Him enacting laws which show strict, even-handed, perfect justice. God provided for everything, maintained every interest, and met every claim. There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. The scales that weighed each man's claim were set with divine accuracy, so no one could fairly complain about a decision. The stroke of justice fell only on the guilty, while every obedient person kept the safe enjoyment of all his rights and privileges.
Behind all this detail lies care for human life:
God requires the most careful obedience to His demands here, just as He does in the laws about persons we have already looked at. Those laws display His tender and compassionate care for the lives and persons of His people. So every part of their lives is taken into account, with a fullness of detail that is remarkable and worthy of God.
These laws carry a second, darker witness. A rule against leaving a killer animal loose exists only because people do it:
Jehovah had to make laws against certain crimes, and that proves man is capable of committing them. If the capability and the tendency were not there, there would be no need for the laws... Those very laws prove, beyond all question, that the most refined and cultured person carries in his heart the seeds of the very darkest and most horrifying evils.
- Warned. The ox had a record and the owner had been told. Everything in the verse turns on that word.
- Guilty. Knowing the danger and making no provision against it puts the owner under the same sentence as the ox.
- Weighed. The God who governs the universe weighs a case about an ox. Wealth buys no favour, and no one can complain of the verdict.
- Ransomed. The death sentence could be lifted if the victim's nearest relative accepted a payment instead.
- Exposed. A law is written only because the crime is possible. Every rule here shows what the human heart can do.
If there be imposed on him a satisfaction, then he shall give the ransom of his life, according to what is imposed on him.
An ox already known to gore has killed someone, and the previous verse puts its owner under a death sentence. Now the law opens a door: a payment may stand in place of his life — and that payment carries the Old Testament's own word for atonement.
The owner's guilt turns on what he already knew. One writer sets out the sequence:
An ox that gored anyone to death was to be stoned to death, and the meat of the ox not eaten. The owner of the ox would not be held responsible unless he had been warned that his ox was dangerous. In this case, if he had not kept the ox penned in and the ox killed anyone, the owner as well as the ox was to be put to death (v. 29). This penalty could however be relaxed if the nearest relative of the victim would agree to accept ransom money instead (vv. 30-31).
The payment is not a loophole in a careless system. Nothing in these laws is left unsettled:
The same principle of righteous equivalent also applies in these directions… Everything is provided for, and every relationship, with its various breaches, adjusted in harmony with the righteous government under which Israel was now placed.
The ESV says "ransom" here; older translations say "sum of money." One writer traces the Hebrew word behind that phrase:
The words "sum of money" are the translation of kopher, a form of kaphar, to cover, the word for atonement.
So the verse shows what atonement is: a price that covers a forfeited life, so the guilty man lives.
A ransom stands in for the offender, yet it has a limit. Money could cover this man's negligence. Nothing could be taken for a murderer's life:
Expiation is the satisfaction itself: what takes the wrath, what is devoted and made the curse, standing in for the offender, so that he goes free. And here the noun kopher comes to let light in on the inquiry. It is translated "ransom, satisfaction," and in 1 Samuel 12:3 a "bribe." So in Exodus 21:30 a kopher (translated "sum of money") is laid on a man to save his life, where his ox had killed his neighbour. But in Numbers 35:31 no kopher was to be taken for the life of a murderer. The land cannot be cleansed, kaphar, except by the blood of the man who shed blood as a murderer (v. 33). This clearly shows the force of kopher and of kaphar. The satisfaction offered suits the eye and mind of Him who is displeased and who judges. Through it come purging of the offence, cleansing, forgiveness, and favour, according to Him who takes account of the evil.
Notice too that the guilty man never names his own price. The verse says it is imposed on him.
No one can buy a brother out of death. What no man could give, God found:
No one can "ransom another, or give to God the price of his life" (Psalm 49:7). But God could say, "Deliver him from going down into the pit; I have found a ransom" (Job 33:24)… In the New Testament it is lytron, or antilytron, from "to loose, set free." Christ gave Himself, His life, a ransom for many: the precious blood of Christ witnesses that every claim of God against the believer has been answered (Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45; 1 Timothy 2:6).
A victim's family could accept silver. A death sentence itself has no such price:
And what will lift the forfeit of death? This is the supreme question. The death sentence stands alone in its gravity and weight. We have never heard of the death sentence having any alternative equivalent. There is no alternative to it in the eyes of law, because it has no equivalent. Nothing but DEATH can meet the death sentence.
- Forfeit. A man was warned that his ox was dangerous and did nothing. When it killed, he owed his own life.
- Ransom. Verse 30 allows a price to stand in place of that life, accepted by the victim's nearest relative.
- Covering. The word for that price, kopher, comes from kaphar, "to cover" — the Bible's word for atonement.
- Limit. A ransom could cover negligence. Numbers 35:31 allowed none for a murderer, because the satisfaction must suit the One who judges.
- Fulfilment. No man can ransom another (Psalm 49:7), yet God said, "I have found a ransom" (Job 33:24) — Christ gave His life a ransom for many.
Whether it gore a son or gore a daughter, according to this judgment shall it be done to him.
The law about a dangerous ox runs from verse 28 to verse 32, and this verse covers the case of a child killed by the ox. It raises two questions: why God named the son or daughter at all, and what the money paid in place of a life teaches.
Verse 31 points back to the rule just given. Here is how that rule worked:
An ox that gored someone to death had to be stoned, and no one was to eat its meat. The owner of the ox was not responsible unless someone had warned him that his ox was dangerous. In this case, if he had not kept the ox penned in and the ox killed anyone, both the owner and the ox had to die (v. 29). However, the nearest relative of the victim could agree to accept ransom money instead of this penalty (vv. 30-31).
A son or a daughter is not a lesser case with a lesser penalty. The same judgment, with the same option of ransom, covers them.
These rules can look like small print about farm animals. One writer finds in their detail a picture of God's care over everything:
The same principle of righteous equivalent also holds good in these directions. Even the owner must die, along with the ox, if he knew the animal's tendency and had made no provision to guard against it (v. 29). This brings home to us the truth our blessed Lord taught: even the hairs of our heads are all numbered. The law provides for everything. It fits every relationship, and every way a relationship can be broken, into the righteous government God had now placed Israel under.
Verse 30 allows a payment in place of the owner's life. Older translations call it "a sum of money"; the ESV reads "if a ransom is imposed on him." The Hebrew word behind it matters:
The words "sum of money" are the translation of kopher, a form of kaphar, to cover, the word for atonement.
So the owner lives only because a payment covers what he owes. This verse extends that covering to the death of a child.
The justice here is measured, and it is not merciful:
We find here the true character of law. Grace is absent. It is eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth… Law demands an exact equivalent — no more, and no less. But grace can remit every claim. We ourselves have been dealt with in grace, our whole debt remitted, so we must act on the same principle toward one another. But never forget this: the foundation of grace itself lies deep in righteousness. That is why it reigns through righteousness (Romans 5:21), on a basis that is everlasting and unchanging.
This is why the verse can allow a payment and still be strict. The ransom does not cancel the claim; it meets it.
An older ruling stands behind this whole section. God gave it to Noah, long before Israel had any law:
God alone knows the heart of man, and He has pronounced it "deceitful above all things and desperately sick." When He gave Noah the government of the earth, He provided for the preservation of man's life in the most solemn terms — terms no human law can set aside: "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image."
A child killed by a neighbour's ox is no small loss. That child bears God's image, and God Himself guards that life.
- Image — Man bears God's image, so God guards his life. He said this to Noah long before Israel had a law, and no human law can set it aside.
- Equal — A son or a daughter falls under exactly the same judgment as a man or a woman. The law does not rate a child's life lower.
- Negligent — The owner is liable only where he knew his ox was dangerous and did nothing. Guilty knowledge, not mere misfortune, brings the death penalty.
- Covered — The money that spares him is kopher, from the word meaning to cover — the word for atonement. A life is released because something is given in its place.
- Exact — This is law, not grace: an exact equivalent, no more and no less. Yet grace, which can remit every claim, rests on the same righteous foundation.
If the ox gore a bondman or a handmaid, he shall give to their master thirty shekels of silver, and the ox shall be stoned.
One line of Israel's civil law fixes what an owner owes when his ox kills another man's servant. Men later weighed out that same figure, the going price of a servant, for the Son of God. So commentators read this verse as both law and prophecy.
One principle runs through the judgments in this chapter. The law measures each loss and holds each owner answerable for what is his. One writer shows how far that care reaches, down to an animal's known habits.
The same principle of righteous equivalent also applies in these directions. If the owner knew the animal's habit and did nothing to guard against it, the law puts him to death as well as the ox. This brings home to us the truth our blessed Lord taught: even the hairs of our heads are all numbered. The law provides for everything. It settles every relationship, and every way a relationship can be broken, to match the righteous government God had now placed Israel under.
Thirty was not a random number. Set beside the other valuations in the law, it marks where a servant stood.
Notice again the mention of the servant in verse 32. The price of a servant was thirty shekels of silver. The redemption price of a free Israelite was fifty shekels (Lev. 27:3); that of a slave, thirty shekels.
One writer sets this price beside the One it was paid for.
Thirty pieces of silver was the price of a slave who had been killed. Oh, what unfathomable love! The Lord from heaven became like a slave. The love He looked for He did not find. It was refused to Him, and instead He was insulted, mocked, and treated like a miserable slave.
Two accounts of the same bargain name different speakers. One writer explains why.
In Zechariah it is "I said to them," whereas in Matthew it is Judas who speaks to the chief priests (the representatives of the nation). This brings out a very interesting principle in the ways of God. It was Judas' sin that betrayed the Lord, but the Lord used the sin of Judas to test the chief priests as to their estimate of Christ, and so, passing by the intermediate instrument, He says, "I said to them, If it seems good to you, give me my wages." They did think it good. And what price did they set on Jesus, the Son of God, their Messiah? It was the value of a slave. That was the contemptuous price the Jewish leaders offered for the life of Him who was the Lord Himself, God with us. Who can fathom the grace beyond words that led the Father's only Son to submit Himself to such degradation? Here we see the heart of man, and the heart of God, and with them the need of redemption.
Judas was one of Jesus' twelve closest followers. He had every advantage a man could have, and sold them all for the sum this verse names.
He was one of the privileged twelve and treasurer of the group. The Son of God washed his feet and handed him the morsel from the dish. Yet he sold his Master to His murderers for a few pieces of silver — the amount of compensation for a slave gored by a bull (Ex. 21:32). Love of money was his ruin. It hardened his heart so completely that the Saviour's most touching appeals could not reach him.
No rage set this price. That is where its sting lies.
It was a sober business transaction, and in that lies its bitter contempt, its being unintended. They thought Him a wicked man, but even so, not worth more than a few shekels' reward. He felt this insult sharply, even among so many other terrible injuries. "And they weighed out as my wages thirty pieces of silver … Throw it to the potter — the lordly price at which I was valued by them!" (Zech. 11:12-13.) We often see twenty times as much offered for the capture of a common criminal. This was a long time ago. Yes, but there are millions of people around us who would not surrender even that much for the possession of Christ now.
- Measured — The law weighs every loss and holds the careless owner answerable. Nothing escapes this government, down to the hairs of our heads.
- Thirty — That measure fixes a servant's worth at thirty shekels. The law set the redemption of a free Israelite at fifty.
- Weighed — The same figure returns in Zechariah and in Matthew as the price agreed for Christ. Men priced the Lord from heaven like a slave.
- Tested — Judas did the bargaining. God used his sin to expose what the chief priests thought their Messiah was worth. That price shows the heart of man; the grace that accepted it shows the heart of God.
- Repeated — Love of money hardened Judas past every appeal. And that low price is not just history: millions today would not give even that much to have Christ.
-- And if a man open a pit, or if a man dig a pit, and do not cover it, and an ox or an ass fall into it,
A man digs a pit on his land, forgets to cover it, and his neighbour's animal dies in it — and God writes that into His law. It raises two questions. How far does a person's responsibility reach for harm he never meant to cause? And why does the Creator of the universe bother with a hole in the ground?
Commentators mark this verse as a turning point in the "judgments" that run from chapter 21 into chapter 23. The subject changes from bodies to belongings.
From Exodus 21:33 onwards we can see a difference in the character of God's judgments. These deal mainly with the possessions or property of the children of Israel. God calls for the same exact obedience to His demands here as He did over their persons, which we have already looked at. There He showed His tender and compassionate care for the lives and persons of His people. So God takes every part of their lives into account, in a detail so complete that it is remarkable and worthy of Him. As the psalmist says, He is "the God of my mercy" (Psalm 59:17).
The pit is on the man's own ground, and he has every right to dig it. The law still holds him liable, because he left it open. The next verse sets what he must pay.
While one rightly has control over his own property, yet he is also responsible as to how he uses it. If one were to dig a pit, even on his own property, and leave it uncovered, he would be responsible for an animal falling into it. If the animal died, the owner of the pit must pay the value of the animal, and could therefore keep the dead beast (v. 34).
The payment matches the loss exactly — no more, no less. That evenness runs through the whole set of rulings.
First, on God's part, we find Him making laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice. This was the character of the laws, the statutes and the judgments by which God governed His earthly kingdom of Israel. He provided for everything, He upheld every interest, and He met every claim. There was no partiality — no difference made between the rich and the poor. The balance that weighed each man's claim was set with divine accuracy, so no one could fairly complain about a decision.
A dead donkey is a small matter. That God should write a ruling about it says something about Him, not about the donkey.
Here, too, we see how amazingly He stoops down. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He will still judge between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like the Lord our God, who humbles Himself to look on the things that are in heaven and on earth?" He governs the universe, and yet He can take time to provide a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm.
The law is not the rule of a believer's life. Even so, the moral force of these rulings outlasts it.
These statutes contain moral principles which are not affected by changes in God's dealings. The law is not the rule of the believer's life. Yet, as the Apostle says in Romans 8:3-4, "God … has condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law should be fulfilled in us, who do not walk according to flesh but according to Spirit."
A related law required a low wall around a flat roof. The concern behind it reaches further than physical safety.
In a land of flat roofs, on which people commonly walked, the law required a low wall to protect anyone from falling (v. 8). This is proper concern for the safety of others. We should be concerned also that they be protected from spiritual dangers.
- Cover it. The fault is not digging the pit but leaving it open; the danger you create is yours to manage.
- Own it. Control over your own property does not cancel responsibility for how you use it.
- Pay it. The owner of the pit pays the animal's value and keeps the dead beast. The loss is matched exactly, with no favour to rich or poor.
- Widen it. From this verse on, the judgments turn to property. God's care covers every part of life, not just life and limb.
- Live it. The moral principle outlasts the covenant. Guard others from falling, in body and in spirit.
the owner of the pit shall make it good, shall give money to the owner of them; and the dead [ox] shall be his.
Exodus 21 is a run of case laws, and this one settles a small disaster: someone digs a pit, leaves it open, and a neighbour's animal falls in and dies. Why would God give a law about a hole in the ground?
The judgments in this chapter shift focus partway through, starting at the verse just before ours:
From Exodus 21:33 onwards, God's judgments have a different character. They deal mainly with the possessions or property of the children of Israel. God requires the most careful obedience here, just as He did in the laws about their persons... So every part of their lives is taken into account, with a fullness of detail that is truly remarkable and worthy of God.
A law about a dead animal can look beneath the dignity of God. Commentators read it the other way round:
Here, too, we can see the amazing condescension of God. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He can still stoop to judge between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth... He governs the universe, and yet He can occupy Himself with providing a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm.
The pit may be dug on the digger's own ground. That changes nothing about who pays:
A man rightly has control over his own property, but he is still responsible for how he uses it. Suppose he digs a pit — even on his own land — and leaves it uncovered. He is responsible if an animal falls into it. If the animal died, the owner of the pit must pay the value of the animal, and could therefore keep the dead beast (v. 34).
He never pushed the ox in. He is answerable for what he left open.
The payment matches the loss exactly — nothing more, nothing less. That same balance runs through the whole section:
Again, the same principle of righteous equivalent also holds in these laws... Everything is provided for. Every relationship, and every breach of it, is settled in line with the righteous government Israel now lived under.
The same standard covered rich and poor alike:
There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. Each man's claim was weighed in a balance set with divine accuracy, so that no one had just grounds to complain about a decision.
The same duty appears in another law about preventing harm:
In a land of flat roofs, where people often walked, the law required a low wall around the edge to protect anyone from falling. This is proper concern for the safety of others. We should be concerned also that they be protected from spiritual dangers.
Do laws like this still bind Christians today?
These statutes contain moral principles which are unaffected by changes in God's dealings. While the law is not the rule of the believer's life, yet, as the Apostle says in Romans 8:3-4, "God... has condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit."
- Dig — The man did nothing violent. He dug, and then failed to cover. Responsibility starts with what he neglected, not with what he intended.
- Cover — Owning the land does not cancel your duty to use it well. An open pit on your own ground is still your pit.
- Pay — The loss is paid in money, and the dead animal goes to the one who paid for it. Nothing is left half-settled.
- Weigh — God weighs every claim with the same accuracy, rich and poor alike. No one can object to the verdict.
- Care — The God who rules the universe will judge a case about a dead ox. That is how closely He watches ordinary life. Our part is to keep the pits around us covered, for the sake of others.
-- And if one man's ox gore his neighbour's ox, and it die, then they shall sell the live ox, and divide the money thereof, and divide the dead also.
Two neighbours, two oxen, and a death no one meant to cause — and God stops to give a ruling. The living animal and the dead one are both split between the owners. Commentators see in that even split a picture of how God governs the ordinary damage of daily life.
Here no one had been warned that the ox was dangerous. So the loss is halved instead of falling on one owner.
If one man's ox kills an ox belonging to someone else, half the value of the live ox belongs to each owner, and they divide the dead ox as well. But if an owner had been warned that his ox was dangerous and had not shut it in, he must hand his live ox to the other owner and take the dead one instead.
These rulings about animals all come back to one man: the owner.
The responsibility of the owner for the acts of his cattle is then laid down.
This ruling is part of a block that works out the commandments in real situations.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments that extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 we find judgments that extend "You shall not steal"… The first demand is for restitution. If that is not possible, then damages must be paid. No fairer form of penalty than this can be thought up.
The split ox follows the measure used all through this section. What you lose, you recover. What you cause, you pay.
It is enough to point out again that the same principle of righteous equivalent applies here too… How vividly this brings home to us the truth our blessed Lord taught: even the hairs of our heads are all numbered. God has provided for everything. He has settled every relationship, and every way it can be broken, in keeping with the righteous government Israel was now placed under.
A rule that halves a loss only works if the judges cannot be bought. That was the character of the whole code.
God provided for everything. He upheld every interest and met every claim. There was no favouritism, and no difference between the rich and the poor. The scales that weighed each man's claim were set with divine accuracy, so no one could fairly complain about a decision. The clean robe of justice was not to be stained by bribery, corruption or favouritism… Justice struck only the guilty, while it guarded every obedient person in the full enjoyment of his rights and privileges.
Notice who is giving this ruling. The Maker of the universe settles a quarrel over cattle.
Here, too, we see how amazingly He stoops down. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He will still judge between one man and another over the death of an ox, the loan of a coat, or the loss of a servant's tooth… He governs the universe, and yet He can busy Himself with providing a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and notices a crawling worm.
A law like this also tells us something about the people it was written for.
The LORD had to make laws against certain crimes. That proves man is able to commit them. If the ability and the leaning towards them were not there, the laws would not be needed.
- Shared loss. If no one had been warned, the live ox is sold and the money split. The dead ox is split too. The damage falls on both alike.
- Shared responsibility. The owner answers for what his cattle do.
- Shared measure. One principle of righteous equivalent runs through the whole section. It settles every relationship and every breach of one.
- Shared protection. The code showed no favouritism between rich and poor, so no one could fairly complain about a decision.
- Shared witness. The law shows God stooping to judge the death of an ox. It also shows man, whose need of such laws proves he can commit the crimes they forbid.
Or if it be known that the ox have gored heretofore, and its owner have not kept him in, he shall in any case restore ox for ox; and the dead shall be his.
Two neighbours' oxen fight and one dies, and the verse before this splits the loss evenly. This verse shifts the whole loss onto one man, because the owner already knew his ox was dangerous and had not shut it in.
This verse ends a run of case laws about animals — what they do, and what is done to them. One writer sums up the whole section:
The rest of the chapter deals with judgments about the ownership of cattle, the violent acts these animals may do, and the violence they may suffer. All of it is to be settled on a strictly righteous basis.
Compare the two verses side by side and the difference in the settlement is plain:
If one man's ox kills an ox belonging to another, each owner should take half the value of the live ox. They should divide the dead ox as well. But if an owner had been warned that his ox was dangerous and had not kept it in, he should trade his live ox to the other owner for the dead ox.
The careless man ends up with the dead animal; his neighbour ends up with a living one. Owning the ox was not enough — he had to keep it shut in. The whole loss falls on the man who could have stopped it.
The same rule appears earlier in the chapter in its heaviest form, where an ox with a record kills a person. One commentator shows why the law deals so hard with the owner, and how far God's attention reaches:
The law commands the death of the owner, as well as the ox, if he had guilty knowledge that the animal was dangerous and he had made no provision to guard against it. How clearly this brings to mind the truth our blessed Lord taught: even the hairs of our heads are all numbered.
It was not the goring that made him guilty. It was knowing and doing nothing.
That God gives a law at all about one dead ox says something about Him:
Here, too, we see the amazing condescension of God. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He can still stoop to judge between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a coat, or the loss of a servant's tooth… He governs the universe, and yet He can take time to provide a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm.
"Ox for ox" is not a rough estimate. It is the whole method of this section of the law:
God provided for everything, upheld every interest, and met every claim. There was no favouritism — no difference made between the rich and the poor. Each man's claim was weighed in a balance adjusted with divine accuracy, so no one could rightly complain about a decision… The stroke of justice fell only on the guilty, while every obedient person kept the full enjoyment of his rights and privileges.
The precision that makes this law admirable is also its limit. One commentator names what law cannot do:
We find here the true character of law. Grace is absent… Law demands an exact equivalent — no more, and no less. But grace can cancel every claim. God has dealt with us in grace and cancelled our whole debt, so we must act on the same principle towards one another. Yet never forget this: the foundation of grace itself is laid deep in righteousness.
The case is ancient; the moral weight is not. One writer says this about the statutes in this chapter:
These statutes contain moral principles that do not change from one age to the next. The law is not the rule of the believer's life. Yet, as the Apostle says in Romans 8:3-4, "God … condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit."
- Known. One word decides the case: "known." The goring is the same in both verses. What the owner knew beforehand shifts the whole loss onto him.
- Kept in. Knowing is not enough. The owner is guilty because he "had made no provision to guard against it."
- Weighed. The settlement is exact, not rough. Each claim is weighed in a balance "adjusted with divine accuracy," so no one can complain.
- Noticed. The God who "governs the universe" still stoops to judge one dead animal between two neighbours.
- Beyond. Law demands "an exact equivalent — no more, and no less." Only grace can cancel a claim, and grace itself rests on a foundation "laid deep in righteousness."
If a man steal an ox, or a sheep, and kill it, or sell it, he shall restore five oxen for the ox, and four sheep for the sheep.
This law deals with the thief who steals an ox or a sheep and then kills or sells it. The animal can never be returned. The penalty is not prison but repayment several times over. Why did God set the price so high? And can anyone repay what he has taken from God Himself?
These laws are not a new subject. They apply one of the Ten Commandments to daily life, and they ask for repayment, not just punishment.
Exodus 21 gives us judgments that extend "You shall not murder." Exodus 22 gives us judgments that extend "You shall not steal." People may defraud each other in many ways, and this theme continues to the end of verse 17... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, the offender must pay damages. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
The previous chapter guarded life and person. This one guards property, and it makes the thief answerable to God, not only to his neighbour.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings restitution to our notice. It is a very necessary principle. No one who has to do with "the righteous LORD who loves righteousness" can escape responsibility. Here God shows His care not only for guarding the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
These penalties differ in weight, and that is the point. God favours no one and ignores no claim.
On God's part, we find Him making laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice... He provided for everything, maintained every interest, and met every claim. There was no partiality — no distinction between the rich and the poor. He weighed each man's claim in a balance set with divine accuracy, so that no one could rightly complain of a decision.
The rule itself is clear. But why five for one animal and four for the other? Scripture does not say.
Verse 1 is plain, though we are not told why stealing an ox needed five oxen in return, while a sheep needed only four sheep.
The heavy rate falls on the thief who destroyed or sold what he took.
If one had stolen an animal and had it in his possession, he must restore double — a much lesser penalty than verse 1.
This law thinks about the victim, not only the criminal. That sets it apart from most systems of punishment.
Human laws only punish, brutalise and perpetuate offenders; they pay nothing back. A man cheats people out of their life savings; he is jailed, and the victims get nothing back. But by God's law a thief was not only punished, but compelled to work for wages to pay back the theft to his victims (Exodus 22:1-4; Leviticus 6:4). He was not jailed and kept at the expense of the taxpayers, nor did his victims suffer and starve.
Centuries later, a tax collector named Zacchaeus used the words of this law when he met Jesus. His promise raises a harder question about a debt no one can repay.
Zacchaeus refers, without doubt, to this provision of the law (v. 1) when he said to the Lord, "If I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold" (Luke 19:8)... But the question for our souls is this: if robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible. Left to ourselves, we must have remained under the consequences of our trespasses for ever.
The answer offered is not that the debt is waived, but that Another paid it in full.
It is utterly impossible for bankrupt sinners to make restitution to God. But Another has done so. He was the sin offering and the burnt offering, and also the true trespass offering (Leviticus 5)... The Lord Jesus is the true trespass offering in Isaiah 53:10-12 and also in Psalm 69, where He says in prophetic language, "What I did not steal must I now restore?"
Older translations read that line as a statement: "then I restored that which I took not away."
- Restitution defined. The law asks first for repayment. Only when repayment is impossible does it turn to damages — the fairest penalty anyone could devise.
- Restitution measured. God weighs each penalty exactly: five oxen for an ox killed or sold, but only double when the thief still has the animal alive.
- Restitution to the victim. Human courts jail a thief and leave his victim with nothing. God's law puts the thief to work until his victim gets paid back.
- Restitution owed to God. A thief must repay his neighbour. So what about the greater theft, robbing God? Bankrupt sinners have nothing to pay with.
- Restitution made for us. Christ is the true trespass offering. He restored what He never took away, and He meets every claim against the believer.
If the thief be encountered breaking in, and be smitten so that he die, there shall be no blood-guiltiness for him.
Exodus 22 begins a set of laws about property, and this verse takes the hardest case: a break-in that ends with the thief dead. One detail decides it — whether the killing happened in the dark.
These laws apply one of the ten commandments to daily life. One writer ties the whole chapter to the command against stealing.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments that extend "You shall not kill." In Exodus 22 we find judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may defraud each other in many ways… The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
The verse draws a line at daybreak.
If someone caught a thief breaking in and killed him, this was not murder if it happened in the dark of night. If it happened in daylight, the one who killed him was guilty of bloodshed (vv. 2-3).
The difference between night and day is deliberate.
It is a mark of righteousness under the law that a man breaking in at night might be killed, but not a man breaking in by day.
The verse speaks of "bloodguilt" because God has put the strongest protection around human life. He gave it long before Moses, and no human law can cancel it.
God alone knows the heart of man, and He has called it "deceitful above all things and incurably wicked." When He gave Noah the government of the earth, He provided for the preservation of man's life in the most solemn terms, which no human laws can set aside: "at the hand of Man, at the hand of each (the blood) of his brother, will I require the life of Man. Whoever sheds Man's blood, by Man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God He made Man."
Against that background the exception stands out. The man who breaks into a house at night forfeits that protection.
God guards what people own as well as their lives. A thief answers to Him, not only to the neighbour he robbed.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution to our notice. It is a very necessary principle, since no one who deals with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" can evade responsibility. Here God shows not only His concern for guarding the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also a concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
One writer sets this beside modern justice.
Human laws only punish. They brutalise offenders and keep them offending, and they make no repayment. A man cheats people out of their life savings; he is jailed, and the victims get nothing back. But by God's law a thief was not only punished, but made to work for wages to pay back the theft to his victims (Exodus 22:1-4; Leviticus 6:4). He was not jailed and kept at the taxpayers' expense, nor did his victims suffer and starve.
The thief of this passage had to restore what he took. That points to a debt none of us can settle.
But the question for our souls is this. If robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible… But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away." He was the trespass offering as well as the sin and burnt offerings. He has therefore made full and adequate restitution for all our trespasses — we can say so, if we believe. In His wonderful grace and mercy, He has repaired every breach that could be charged against us.
(In the ESV, Psalm 69:4 reads as a question: "What I did not steal must I now restore?")
- Guarded life. God put His own protection around human life in Noah's day and never took it back. That is why any killing raises the question of bloodguilt.
- Guarded home. The night intruder is the exception. Killing him carries no guilt, and writers call that a mark of the law's righteousness.
- Guarded goods. The same law that shields people shields their property. The thief answers to God, not just to his neighbour.
- Restitution, not just punishment. Human justice punishes and leaves the victim empty. God's law made the thief work to repay the one he robbed.
- The greater theft. Every one of us has robbed God and can restore nothing. Christ, the trespass offering, repaid what He never took.
If the sun be risen on him, there shall be blood-guiltiness for him; he should have made full restitution if he had nothing, he would have been sold for his theft.
In this verse the time of day decides the case. A thief killed at night leaves no bloodguilt; after sunrise the same killing counts as bloodshed, and the thief who lives must repay in full or be sold to cover what he stole.
Chapter 21 applies the command against murder. Chapter 22 applies the command against stealing, and it puts repayment before punishment.
Exodus 21 gives judgments that extend "You shall not murder." Exodus 22 gives judgments that extend "You shall not steal." People can cheat each other in many ways, and this theme runs to the end of verse 17... The first demand is for restitution. If that is not possible, damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty.
The same act gets two verdicts, and the hour of the day decides which.
If someone caught a thief breaking in and killed him, this was not murder if it happened in the dark of night. If it happened in daylight, the killer was guilty of bloodshed (vv. 2-3).
Repayment is not only about neighbours settling accounts. The offender answers to God Himself.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle, for no one who deals with "the righteous LORD, who loves righteousness" can escape responsibility... Here God shows His concern not only for guarding the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
The verse ends by selling the thief. That sounds harsh today, yet one writer holds it up against the modern prison.
Human laws only punish offenders, harden them and keep them offending; they repay nothing. A man cheats people out of their life savings; he goes to jail, and the victims get nothing back. But by God's law a thief was not only punished, but compelled to work for wages to pay back the theft to his victims (Exodus 22:1-4; Leviticus 6:4). He did not sit in jail at the taxpayers' expense, and his victims did not suffer and starve.
What the thief entered was real servitude. The law did not leave it to the owner's will.
The words usually translated "servant" mean bondmen or slaves. Some were bought with money and some were taken in war: compare also Exodus 22:3... The law of Moses recognised this form of servitude, though it was a result of sin, and gave rules about it and for the protection of the slaves.
The words "if he has nothing" describe a thief who owes more than he owns. One writer puts the sinner before God in the same place.
If robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible; and if left to ourselves we must for ever have remained under the consequences of our trespasses. But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away" (Psalm 69:4)... In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this. If there had been no substitute for us — no one to restore to God what He had not taken away, but which we had taken away — we must for ever have been answerable to His claims: for ever answerable, but with nothing to pay.
(The ESV puts Psalm 69:4 as a question: "What I did not steal must I now restore?" The older wording above reads it as a statement.)
The law could make a thief hand back what he took. One writer asks what becomes of the thief after that.
The thief is to become a labourer and even a giver, for grace transforms. The law required the thief to make restitution, but grace makes him actively generous.
- Repay, first. The chapter asks first for repayment, not punishment. Damages come only where repayment is impossible.
- Repay, because God is watching. Stealing is more than a quarrel between neighbours. The thief answers to the LORD who loves righteousness.
- Repay, even with your labour. A thief with nothing left worked off his debt to his victim. The penalty repaid the wronged party instead of feeding a prison.
- Repay — but you cannot. The sinner who has robbed God stands where verse 3 leaves the penniless thief: for ever answerable, with nothing to pay.
- Repaid, by Another. One came who restored what He never took away, and grace turns the former thief into a giver.
If the stolen thing be actually found alive in his hand, whether it be ox, or ass, or sheep, he shall restore double.
Exodus 22 turns "You shall not steal" into working law, and verse 4 takes the mildest case: the stolen animal is alive and still in the thief's hands. The penalty drops to double — so why does God grade theft by degrees, and why does His justice repair the victim instead of only punishing the thief?
Each of these chapters takes one short command and spells it out.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments that extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 we find judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may cheat each other in many ways, and this theme continues to the end of verse 17... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, then damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
Verse 1 charges a man five oxen for an ox and four sheep for a sheep. Verse 4 charges only double, because the thief has not killed or sold the animal.
If one had stolen an animal and had it in his possession, he must restore double — a much lesser penalty than verse 1.
The commentators do not claim to know the reason behind every figure:
Verse 1 is plain, though we are not told why stealing an ox called for five oxen in return, while stealing a sheep called for only four sheep.
The animal here is not just livestock. It is somebody's ox, somebody's sheep — and God takes that ownership seriously.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle. Anyone who has to do with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" cannot dodge responsibility. Here God shows not only His concern to guard the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also His concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him for his dealings with others.
The same principle stands behind the command against stealing, and it holds in the New Testament too.
The eighth commandment enforces the rights of personal property. For a short time many Christians in Jerusalem sold property and shared everything. But even then the rights of private property were not set aside, for Peter said to Ananias, "While it remained unsold, did it not remain your own? And after it was sold, was it not at your disposal?" (Acts 5:4). Yes, it belonged to Ananias, and no one had the right to grab it away from him.
Doubling the value costs the thief and leaves the owner better off than before. Most legal systems do not work that way.
Human laws merely punish, brutalise, and perpetuate offenders; they make no reparations. A man cheats people out of their life-savings; he goes to jail, and the victims get nothing back. But God's law did more than punish a thief. It made him work for wages and pay back to his victims what he had stolen (Exodus 22:1-4; Leviticus 6:4). He did not sit in jail at the taxpayers' expense, and his victims did not suffer and starve.
The law assumes the thief still has something to give back. Turn the rule toward God, and that assumption collapses.
The question for our souls is this: if robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away" (Psalm 69:4). He has therefore made full and adequate restitution for all our trespasses (we can say this, if we believe). In His wondrous grace and mercy He has repaired every breach that could be charged against us... In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this. Had there been no substitute for us — no one to give back to God what He had never taken, but we had — we would have been answerable to His claims for ever, with nothing to pay.
(The ESV renders Psalm 69:4 as a question: "What I did not steal must I now restore?")
Under this law, the best a thief could do was hand back double. Grace goes further.
The thief is to become a labourer and even a giver, for grace transforms. The law required the thief to make restitution, but grace makes him truly generous.
- Restore, not just punish. God answers theft with restitution first and damages second — the fairest penalty anyone could design.
- Restore in proportion. A living animal still in the thief's hand costs double. An animal killed or sold cost five for one. Why those exact figures? The commentators do not claim to know.
- Restore what God guards. Behind the ox and the donkey stands an owner God protects. Behind that owner stands God, who holds the thief accountable.
- Restore what you cannot. Turn the rule toward God and it exposes a debt no sinner can pay — for ever answerable, with nothing to hand over.
- Restored by Another. One restored what He never took away, and grace goes beyond the law: the thief becomes a worker and a giver.
If a man shall cause a field or vineyard to be eaten, and put in his cattle, and pasture in another man's field, of the best of his own field, and of the best of his own vineyard shall he make [it] good.
When a man's animal strays into a neighbour's field and eats its fill, the law calls that a debt, repaid from the best the offender owns. Why does God make laws about grazing animals, and what does paying back "the best" say about sin against God?
This case belongs to a run of judgments that unpack one of the Ten Commandments into everyday situations.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments which extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 we find judgments which extend "You shall not steal." Men may defraud each other in many ways... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, then the offender must pay damages. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
Theft, then, is wider than picking a pocket. A man who lets his ox strip someone else's field has taken what was not his, even if he never touched it with his own hands.
Owning something brings a duty: keep it where it belongs.
Verse 5 shows that an owner had to keep his animal on his own property, or he suffered the consequences. If someone started a fire and it spread to a neighbour's property, that person had to make full restoration.
The neighbour suffers the loss, but the one who demands payment is God Himself.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle. Nobody escapes responsibility when dealing with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness." Here God shows not only His concern to guard the life and persons of His people, but also His concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
Centuries later the same rare word for "eat" turns up in Isaiah.
Isaiah 3:14, "You have eaten up the vineyard," is an allusion to Exodus 22:5... The Hebrew word for "eat" is unusual, and the same in both places, so as to leave no doubt of the allusion.
The ESV renders that line, "It is you who have devoured the vineyard."
Commentators press the law past cattle and crops. If God condemns wrongs against a neighbour, what about wrongs against Himself?
But the question for our souls is, if robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this. Suppose there had been no substitute for us — no one to restore to God what He no longer had, because we had taken it away. Then we must have been for ever answerable to His claims: for ever answerable, but with nothing to pay.
The offender pays not an equal amount but the best of what he has — and commentators see the same excess in the cross.
Now, Christ is He who restores: "I restored that which I took not away" is what prophecy says of Him. He is the One who has overpaid God (if I may say so) for all the wrong that sin has done Him. He is the One also who has, to man — to as many as receive Him — more than restored all that sin had taken away.
That line comes from Psalm 69:4 in an older translation. The ESV puts it as a question: "What I did not steal must I now restore?"
None of this cancels the practical duty. Forgiveness received produces repayment given.
There are sins both towards God and man which cannot be regarded as truly repented of by the wrongdoer unless restitution is made... The forgiveness of God produces practical fruits in our everyday life. Our first duty to our fellow men, as forgiven of God, is to make them honourable restitution for any specific wrong we may have caused them.
Dennett notes that Zacchaeus, the tax collector who met Jesus, was reaching back to this chapter when he said, "I restore it fourfold" (Luke 19:8).
- Damage — letting your animal eat a neighbour's field counts as stealing. This chapter extends "You shall not steal" into everyday life.
- Debt — the offender repays the loss out of his best, because God stands behind the neighbour's claim.
- Deadlock — set that standard against our robbing of God, and no sinner can meet it: for ever answerable, with nothing to pay.
- Deliverance — commentators point to Christ, who restored what He never took away and has overpaid God for all that sin has done.
- Discharge — forgiveness does not cancel the duty. Those God forgives still make honourable restitution, as Zacchaeus did.
-- If fire break out, and seize the thorns, and the stacks of corn, or the standing corn, or the field be consumed, he that kindled the fire shall fully make it good.
A man lights a fire on his own ground. It catches in the thorn hedge, jumps the boundary, and burns up a neighbour's harvest. The law hands the whole loss to the man who struck the light. This case sits among laws about property, and it asks how far a person answers for damage he never meant to cause.
These laws follow God's earlier concern for life and limb. Now He turns to what people own.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle, because no one can escape responsibility when he deals with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness." Here God has shown His concern for guarding the life and persons of His people, as we already noted. But He has also shown a concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
Burning a neighbour's grain is not theft in the ordinary sense. Yet commentators place this case under the commandment against stealing. A man can be robbed in more ways than one.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments that extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 we find judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may cheat each other in many ways... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, then damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
The law does not ask whether the man meant the fire to spread. It traces the damage back to the hand that lit it.
Verse 5 shows that an owner had to keep his animal on his own property, or he suffered the consequences. If someone lit a fire and it spread to other people's property, then the one who lit the fire was responsible to make full restoration.
The neighbour is the one repaid. But God counts the wrong as done to Himself, and He asks for a guilt offering as well as repayment. One commentator sees grace in that:
What grace on Jehovah's part to regard wrongs against a neighbour as wrongs against Himself also, and to require a reparation and a like guilt offering!
If God asks payment for damage done to a neighbour, a harder question follows. What about damage done to God? Here the law's remedy runs out.
If robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can we deal with the sin of robbing God? How can people who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away." He was the trespass offering as well as the sin and burnt offerings. So He has made full and adequate restitution... In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this. If there had been no substitute for us — no one to restore to God what He had not taken away, but we had — we would have been answerable to His claims forever. Forever answerable, with nothing to pay.
(That line is Psalm 69:4 in an older translation. The ESV puts it as a question: "What I did not steal must I now restore?")
The image of a small fire with a wide burn returns in the New Testament. There the fire is the tongue.
The tongue is a little part of the body. Yet it is an instrument of very great things, either for good or for evil... Small as it is, it boasts great things. It may be like a little spark of fire, but how many a ruinous blaze a little spark has started!
- Spark — The man lights a fire on his own ground for his own reasons. Nothing suggests he meant harm.
- Spread — Damage travels. It starts at the thorn hedge and ends in a neighbour's standing grain.
- Liability — The one who lit it makes full restoration. No penalty is fairer, and no one escapes responsibility before "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness."
- Bankruptcy — Press the principle upward and it breaks us. If robbing a neighbour must be repaid, what can sinners bring to repay God? Nothing. One commentator puts it plainly: forever answerable, with nothing to pay.
- Restitution — What the offender owed and could not pay, Another paid. Christ is the true trespass offering, and the words of the Psalm are His: He restored what He never took away.
-- If a man deliver unto his neighbour money or stuff to keep, and it be stolen out of the man's house; if the thief be found, let him restore double;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
if the thief be not found, the master of the house shall be brought before the judges, [to see] if he has not put his hand unto his neighbour's goods.
A man leaves money or goods with his neighbour for safe keeping, and they disappear. No thief can be found, and no one saw anything. So the man who kept them must come before God, to settle whether his own hand took them.
This chapter shows that God's law covers more than harm to people. It also covers what they own.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle. No one who has to do with "the righteous Lord who loves righteous deeds" can escape responsibility. Here God has shown His concern for guarding the life and persons of His people, as already noted. He has also shown a concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in their dealings with one another.
One commandment stands behind this chapter, and the penalty it sets aims at repayment.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments which extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 we find judgments which extend "You shall not steal." Men may cheat each other in many ways... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, then damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
The keeper of the goods is not liable by default. He is not cleared by default either.
Suppose someone was trusted with his neighbor's goods, and they were stolen from him. He would not be held responsible — unless the inquiry found that he had stolen them himself. Judges would decide such matters. In all such cases the guilty party would have to pay double (vv. 7-9).
The case now goes to the Elohim. That word means God, and Israel's judges bear the same name.
In the Pentateuch the parties are often directed to be brought to the Elohim (as in Ex. 21:6, 23; Ex. 22:8-9, twice), so called because in judging they were to act in God's place.
They did not take that name for themselves.
In Scripture the judges of Israel are sometimes given the name of God. This points more closely and strongly to the source of their authority as the guides and directors of His people. The word of God came to them. They sat to administer justice in the name of Jehovah, and according to His declared mind. The verdict they pronounced was not their own but His.
The judges stand in God's place. So swearing an oath before them is a good thing, not a compromise.
But we must carefully remember that our Lord in no way forbids an oath before the magistrate or judge. This is not evil, but good, being of divine authority. For men swear by a greater, and the oath ends all dispute by making matters sure. To refuse it is to deny God's authority in those who represent Him in earthly matters. That is why they are called by His name, which is translated "judges," as in Ex. 21:6, Ex. 22:8-9, 28.
Where a man has wronged his neighbour, the law asks for more than a court verdict.
One more thing marked these trespass offerings, where a man's rights had been violated. The trespasser not only had to bring his offering to God; he had to make amends to the one he had trespassed against... The original loss had to be repaid, with a fifth part added to it. Nothing more just than this can be found. Many a robber would not mind a bit of imprisonment if he were allowed to keep the gain he has made. But losing all he made plus a fifth beyond it takes all the glamour out of the wrongdoing.
The whole system rests on a man being able to pay back what he took. That is where every sinner is stuck.
If robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "What I did not steal must I now restore?"... In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this. Suppose there had been no substitute for us — no one to restore to God what He Himself had never taken away, but which we had taken away. Then we must have been answerable to His claims for ever.
Dennett quotes Psalm 69:4 from an older translation, where the words are a statement, not a question: "Then I restored that which I took not away."
- Property — God's law guards lives and possessions alike. This chapter works out "You shall not steal" in everyday disputes.
- Investigation — a keeper is not liable for a theft he did not commit. But he must face inquiry, and whoever is guilty pays double.
- Authority — "God" here means the judges. They are called by His name because they act in His place, and the verdict they give is His, not theirs.
- Oath — the judges represent God, so answering under oath before them honours Him.
- Restitution — putting a wrong right meant paying back the loss plus a fifth. Sinners could never pay God what they owe. Another restored what He never took.
As to all manner of fraud, -- as to ox, as to ass, as to sheep, as to clothing, as to everything lost, of which [a man] saith, It is this -- the cause of both parties shall come before the judges he whom the judges shall condemn shall restore double to his neighbour.
Two men claim the same lost animal or garment, and each says it is his. Why does God call such a quarrel into His own presence, and why does the loser pay double?
Chapter 21 guarded life and person. Chapter 22 turns to what a man owns, and works out one of the ten commandments in test cases.
Exodus 21 gives us judgments that extend "You shall not murder." Exodus 22 gives judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may defraud each other in many ways, and this theme runs to the end of verse 17... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
A "breach of trust" here covers goods left in another man's care (verses 7-9). When they vanish, suspicion falls on the keeper, and only an inquiry can clear him.
Suppose a man was entrusted with his neighbour's goods, and they were stolen from him. He did not have to answer for them — unless an inquiry showed that he himself had stolen them. Judges would decide such matters. In all such cases, the guilty party would have to pay double (vv. 7-9).
The Hebrew word here is the word for God. Older translations render it "the judges." Both fit, because judges in Israel bore God's own name.
Scripture sometimes gives the judges of Israel the name of God. This points more closely and strongly to the source of their authority as the guides and directors of His people (see Ex. 22:8-9, 28, in the original). The word of God came to them (John 10:35). They sat to administer justice in the name, and according to the declared mind, of Jehovah. The award they pronounced was not their own but His.
That is why an oath sworn before a judge is not a wrong thing. One writer explains where the line falls:
But we must remember that our Lord in no way forbids an oath before the magistrate or judge. This is not evil but good, since it carries divine authority. Men swear by a greater, and the oath ends all dispute by making matters sure. To refuse it is to deny God's authority in those who represent Him in earthly matters. That is why they are called by His name and translated "judges," as in Ex. 21:6, Ex. 22:8-9, 28.
Double payment does more than cover the loss. The guilty man ends poorer than he began, because the wrong was never only against his neighbour.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution to our notice. It is a very necessary principle. No one who has to do with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" can escape responsibility. Here God shows not only His concern for guarding the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also a concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him for his dealings with others.
One writer follows this law into the Gospels, and then to a debt no court could ever settle.
Zacchaeus refers, without doubt, to this provision of the law when he said to the Lord, "If I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold." (Luke 19:8.)... But here is the question for our souls. If God condemns robbing a fellow-man like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "What I did not steal must I now restore?" (Psalm 69:4.) He was the trespass-offering as well as the sin and burnt offerings. He has therefore made full and adequate restitution for all our trespasses... In the chapter the offender had himself to make restitution. We could not do this.
Older translations read that line from Psalm 69 as a statement: "Then I restored that which I took not away."
- Extension. Exodus 22 works out "You shall not steal" in real cases. The first demand is restitution; where that is impossible, damages.
- Investigation. A man trusted with goods is not guilty by default. The judges examine the case, and only the guilty man pays.
- Representation. Coming "before God" meant coming before judges who bore His name — the verdict they gave was His, not theirs.
- Restitution. Double payment shows that God guards property as well as people. Every offender answers to Him.
- Substitution. No sinner can repay what he has robbed from God. Only One could ask, "What I did not steal must I now restore?" — and He made the restitution for us.
If a man deliver unto his neighbour an ass, or an ox, or a sheep, or any cattle, to keep, and it die, or be hurt, or driven away, and no man see [it],
Exodus 21 and 22 set out case law for everyday life in Israel. Here an animal left with a neighbour dies or vanishes unseen — so who carries the loss, and how is the keeper's honesty tested?
Commentators read this chapter as one commandment worked out in daily life.
In Exodus 21 the judgments extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 they extend "You shall not steal." Men can cheat each other in many ways, and this theme runs to the end of verse 17... The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, the offender pays damages. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
The animal is gone and nobody saw it happen. The law does not guess. It hands the matter to God by an oath, and the outcome depends on how the animal went missing.
Verses 10-13 deal with a different case: an animal left in a neighbour's care. If the animal died, was hurt, or had wandered away, the owner and the caretaker were to swear "an oath by the LORD." The caretaker swore he had not taken the animal for himself. But if the animal was stolen from him, then he would have to pay the owner for the animal (v. 12). Yet if the animal was mauled and killed by a beast, the owner would bear the loss.
The word "keep" in this verse is not passive storage. Under this same commandment, another writer draws out what a person owes to anything of his neighbour's that comes into his hands.
The tenderness of the opening words shows how much more than the bare letter these commandments hold. To fulfil the commandment not to steal, you must not consent to the loss or destruction of anything that is your neighbour's. You must care for it, guard it, and keep it for him.
Two neighbours, an animal, a handshake — no contract, no onlooker. Yet God treats this small private matter as something He personally guarantees, and Leviticus calls its violation a trespass needing a sacrifice.
The first form of the guilt denounced here appears to be a failure in private trust. It might be any valuable item or document left with a friend. It might be only an animal, a borrowed book or axe, or money handed over, however small the sum. But Jehovah took notice, and bound up the trusting Israelite's rights with His own name.
This is why an oath in God's name settles the dispute. The property belongs to the neighbour, but the offence reaches higher than the neighbour.
What grace on Jehovah's part! He treats wrongs against a neighbour as wrongs against Himself, and He asks for both repayment and a Guilt offering, like the other case.
One writer sets this chapter beside the one before it.
In Exodus 22:1-15 God has shown not only His concern to guard the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also a concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in their dealings with one another.
If God weighs the loss of one entrusted animal, the question turns back on the reader. One writer takes restitution to its limit and finds a debt no offender could pay.
If God condemns robbing a fellow man like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... But the Psalms speak of One who said that He restored what He never took away. He was the trespass offering as well as the sin and burnt offerings. So He has made full and adequate restitution for all our trespasses — we can say this, if we believe. In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this.
- Entrusted — it begins with one neighbour handing an animal to another. God takes notice of this small private trust.
- Guarded — keeping means active care. You must not consent to the loss of anything your neighbour owns.
- Unseen — no one saw the loss. That is where honesty is tested and human courts run out of evidence.
- Sworn — an oath in God's name settles what no eye saw. A wrong against a neighbour is a wrong against God Himself.
- Restored — the law makes the offender repay. Only Another could pay the sinner's debt to God, restoring what He never took away.
an oath of Jehovah shall be between them both, that he hath not put his hand unto his neighbour's goods; and the owner of it shall accept it, and he shall not make [it] good.
An animal left in a neighbour's care is dead, injured or missing, and nobody saw what happened. With no evidence either way, the law does not guess. It brings God's name into the dispute and lets an oath close the case.
The verse belongs to a short group of rulings about animals placed in someone else's hands, and the outcome depends on how the loss happened.
Verses 10-13 treat differently the case of an animal left in a neighbour's care. If the animal died, was hurt, or had wandered away, there was to be "an oath by the LORD" between the owner and the caretaker. The oath declared that the caretaker had not taken it for himself. But if the animal was stolen from him, then he would have to pay the owner for the animal.
These rulings sit in a long run of laws about property, and the reason God gives them is that He counts what His people own as worth His attention.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle, because no one who has to do with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" can escape responsibility. In this God has shown His concern not only for guarding the life and persons of His people, but also for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
So the case turns on an oath. That word means more than a promise, because of who it calls on.
A solemn statement with an appeal to God that what is said is true. The apostle said that among people an oath given as confirmation is the "end of all strife" or dispute. And God, wanting to show "the unchangeable character of His purpose, guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things [His word and His oath], in which it is impossible for God to lie, we might have strong encouragement."
Swearing here is not a lapse in reverence but something the law itself called for, and it named which name was to be used.
On several occasions the law called for an oath, and in such cases God required His people to swear by His name (Deuteronomy 6:13; compare Exodus 22:11; Leviticus 5:1; Numbers 5:19-21). The oath then did more than confirm the truth. It was also a solemn vow made in the knowledge that Jehovah was present — and He had Himself once taken an oath before Abraham.
The same case reappears in the law of the trespass offering. There it shows how far down God's interest reaches — to the smallest thing one friend leaves with another.
The first form of the guilt condemned here appears to be a failure in private trust. It might be any valuable item or useful document left in the keeping of a friend. It might be only an animal, a book lent, an axe borrowed, or money entrusted, however small. But Jehovah took notice, and bound up the trusting Israelite's rights with His own name.
The oath closes the case for the court. It does not close it for the man who swore falsely, because the wrong runs past his neighbour to God.
Though this trespass directly involves another person, it is still "against the Lord," for He is Creator and He cares how people treat His creatures. Someone may have lied to his neighbour about something entrusted to him to keep, or about a pledge he had made. He may also have cheated his neighbour outright. Or he may have found what was lost and, instead of returning it to its owner, sworn falsely about it. This was no sin of ignorance… Yet he must not cover the matter over. He must confess his sin and restore in full anything the neighbour had lost, adding one-fifth to its value.
Restitution runs through this whole chapter. It raises a question the chapter cannot answer.
If the law condemns robbing a fellow man like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible… But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away" (Psalm 69:4). He was the trespass offering as well as the sin and burnt offerings. He has therefore made full and adequate restitution — we can say so, if we believe — for all our trespasses.
(The ESV renders that line as a question: "What I did not steal must I now restore?")
- Trust. An animal handed over for safekeeping is a small thing, yet God bound the owner's rights up with His own name.
- Loss. When the animal dies, is hurt or wanders off with no one watching, human evidence runs out.
- Oath. God gives the remedy He once used with Abraham himself: a sworn appeal that ends the argument.
- Conscience. The oath satisfies the neighbour. A false one leaves a debt to God, cleared only by confession and full repayment plus a fifth.
- Restitution. The debt we owe God we cannot repay, and Christ as the trespass offering restored what He never took away.
But if it have been stolen from him, he shall make [it] good unto its owner.
Exodus 22:12 sits in a run of case laws about animals left in a neighbour's care. The rule looks small, yet it asks who carries a loss, and what it means to answer to God for what belongs to someone else.
One writer sets the whole chapter under a single heading, and points out how fair its penalty is.
In Exodus 22 we find judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may cheat each other in many ways, and this theme runs to the end of verse 17. The first demand is for "restitution," and if that is not possible, damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty.
Verse 12 only makes sense beside the verses on either side of it.
Verses 10-13 take up a different case: an animal left in the care of a neighbour. If the animal died, was hurt, or had wandered away, the owner and the caretaker settled it with "an oath of the Lord." The oath declared that the caretaker had not taken the animal for himself. But if the animal was stolen from him, then he would have to pay the owner for the animal (v. 12). Yet if the animal was mauled and killed by a beast, the owner would bear the loss.
A wild beast was beyond the keeper's power. A thief was not, so the law puts the theft on him.
An owner's cattle may seem too small a matter for God's law. One writer explains what these rules show about God.
Here God shows His care not only for guarding the life and persons of His people, as we have already seen, but also for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with his neighbour.
The keeper does not just owe his neighbour a cow. He answers to God for how he handled it.
Notice what the law asks of a man who never stole anything. Keeping this commandment is an active job, not just keeping your hands off.
To keep the commandment not to steal, you must not agree to the destruction or loss of anything that belongs to your neighbour. It must be cared for, guarded, and kept for him.
If a man must repay an animal he was only minding, a heavier question follows. Restitution assumes the offender has something to pay with.
Here is the question for our souls. If God condemns robbing a fellow man in this way, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible... But Christ was the trespass offering, as well as the sin offering and the burnt offering. So He has made full and complete restitution for all our trespasses, and if we believe, we can say so. In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this. Suppose there had been no substitute for us — no one to restore to God what He did not have, because we had taken it away. Then we would have been answerable to His claims for ever: for ever answerable, with nothing to pay.
The principle did not end with these old cases. Where God has forgiven, one writer argues, accounts with people still get settled.
Some sins against God and against man cannot count as truly repented of unless the wrongdoer makes restitution. Take a man who robs God, or robs his neighbour. If he has genuine faith in the value of Christ's sacrifice for the forgiveness of that sin, restitution will follow. It is man's part alongside God's forgiveness... The forgiveness of God produces practical fruits in our everyday life. God has forgiven us, so our first duty to other people is to make honourable restitution for any specific wrong we have caused them.
- Trust. An animal placed in a neighbour's hands creates a duty. Verse 12 assumes the keeper could have guarded it against a thief.
- Limit. Theft falls on the keeper. An animal killed by a wild beast falls on the owner. The law splits losses by what a man could prevent.
- Guard. Not stealing means more than clean hands. Care for your neighbour's property, guard it, and keep it for him.
- Account. The offender repays his neighbour, and he answers to God, who guards His people's possessions as well as their lives.
- Ransom. No sinner can repay what he took from God. Christ made that restitution, and the forgiven show it by repaying those they have wronged.
If it have been torn in pieces, let him bring it [as] witness he shall not make good what was torn.
A man leaves an animal in a neighbour's care, and a wild beast kills it. Someone has to carry the loss. This verse settles the case with evidence, not payment. It sits inside a long run of rules about property and honest dealing.
The rules in this chapter take one of the Ten Commandments and work it out in everyday dealings.
If in Exodus 21 we get judgments which extend "You shall not kill," in Exodus 22 we find judgments extending "You shall not steal." Men may defraud each other in a variety of ways… The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, damages must be paid. No one could devise a fairer penalty.
Verses 10 to 15 deal with animals and goods placed in someone else's hands, and they do not all end the same way. Everything turns on how the loss happened.
Verses 10-13 show a difference in the case of an animal being left in the care of a neighbour. If the animal died or was hurt or had wandered away, there was to be "an oath of the Lord" between the owner and the caretaker that the caretaker had not taken it for himself. But if the animal was stolen from him, then he would have to pay the owner for the animal (v. 12). Yet if the animal was mauled and killed by a beast, the owner would bear the loss. If something was borrowed, then died or was injured in the hands of the borrower, the borrower must reimburse the lender for it (v. 15).
So the torn carcass is not a formality. Where nothing could be shown, an oath closed the case. Here the keeper shows the body itself, and the claim against him ends.
The law works this hard to fix the fault for a reason. Every dealing between neighbours was also a dealing with God.
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution before us. It is a very necessary principle, because no one who deals with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" can escape responsibility. Here God has shown not only His concern to guard the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also His concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, since each man is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
The demand falls on the offender. Where there is no offender — only a wild beast — there is nothing to restore.
A rule about a mauled sheep can look too small a matter for the great God of heaven and earth. Commentators see the opposite.
The study of this section of our book is well suited to impress the heart with a sense of God's unsearchable wisdom and infinite goodness… Here, too, we may see the amazing condescension of Him who is the great God of heaven and earth. He can still stoop to judge between man and man about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth… He governs the universe, and yet He can occupy Himself with providing a covering for one of His creatures.
The same care shapes the whole chapter.
The keeper in this verse goes free because he took nothing. That raises a sharper question for every reader.
If robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible… But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away." He was the trespass offering as well as the sin and burnt offerings. He has therefore made full and adequate restitution — we can say so, if we believe — for all our trespasses. No one can charge us with a single breach that He, in His wonderful grace and mercy, has not repaired.
That line is from an older rendering of Psalm 69:4. The ESV reads, "What I did not steal must I now restore?"
- Command. The chapter takes "You shall not steal" into daily life. Its first demand is restitution, and damages follow only where restitution is impossible.
- Proof. A keeper does not pay for what he did not take. He brings the torn animal as evidence, and the claim against him ends.
- Fault. Loss follows fault. A keeper pays for an animal stolen from him. The owner bears the loss when a wild beast kills it. The borrower carries the risk of what he borrows.
- Care. The God who governs the universe stoops to settle a quarrel over one dead ox. The same care runs through every rule in the chapter.
- Substitute. No sinner can restore what he has robbed from God. Christ, the trespass offering, restored what He never took away.
-- And if a man borrow anything of his neighbour, and it be hurt, or die, its owner not being with it, he shall fully make it good;
Exodus 22:14 belongs to a set of case laws about property. A man borrows his neighbour's animal or tool, and it is damaged or dies while he has it. This verse settles who pays for the loss. Behind that small question stands a larger one: how much God cares about what belongs to another man.
These rules run from chapter 21 through chapter 23. Partway through, the subject shifts from persons to possessions.
In chapter 22 we go on with the "judgments" that begin at chapter 21 and run to chapter 23. But God's judgments have a different character from Exodus 21:33 onwards, for these deal mainly with the possessions or property of the children of Israel.
The borrower carries the risk. If the owner was there with it, the loss stays with him. The verses just before draw a different line for an animal left in a neighbour's care.
Verses 10-13 show a difference in the case of an animal being left in the care of a neighbor. If the animal died or was hurt or had wandered away, there was to be "an oath of the Lord" between the owner and the caretaker that the caretaker had not taken it for himself… If someone borrowed something, and it died or was injured while in his hands, he must pay the lender back for it (v. 15). If however the owner was with the animal or other article, the owner must bear the loss of any damage.
(Some Bibles number these verses one apart; the borrowing case is verse 14 in the ESV.)
The command not to steal does more than forbid taking. Something borrowed is still someone else's, and while it is in your hands you owe it active care.
The tenderness of the opening words makes it plain how much more than the bare letter we should read in the commandments. To fulfill the commandment not to steal, you must not consent to the destruction or loss of anything that is your neighbor's. It must be cared for, guarded, and kept for him.
The borrower cannot plead accident. Paying in full is God's way of teaching that a man remains answerable for what passed through his hands.
Exodus 22:1-15 puts the thought of restitution before us. The principle is very necessary, for no one who deals with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" can escape responsibility. Here God shows not only His concern to guard the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also a concern for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
Settling with the man you wronged does not close the account. The law added a sacrifice to the repayment, because guilt before God had to be admitted too.
The law demanded repayment, which showed that the rights of the person sinned against were not to be ignored. It also required a sacrifice, which showed that a trespass against your neighbour could not be hushed up or settled by compromise, with no admission of guilt before God… So the Lord would teach His people to see their acts of sin in the light of their responsibility to Him, and not only as those acts affected the person they had wronged on earth.
Here the law turns into a mirror. A man can replace a borrowed ox. No man can replace what he has taken from God. Older Bibles read the words quoted below from Psalm 69:4 as a statement: "Then I restored that which I took not away."
In the previous chapter we saw how God guarded the life and the persons of His people. In this chapter we see how He protected their property, and made everyone who ignored His law answerable to Himself. But here is the question for our souls. If robbing a fellow man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible… But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "What I did not steal must I now restore?" (Psalm 69:4)… There is not a single breach that could be charged against us which He, in His wonderful grace and mercy, has not repaired. In the chapter the offender had to make restitution himself. We could not do this.
- Borrowed — what you hold on loan is still your neighbour's; care for it, guard it, keep it for him.
- Broken — if it dies or is damaged in your hands, you pay; the exception is when the owner was present with it.
- Binding — restitution leaves no room for excuses, because the case is with the righteous Lord, not only with the man next door.
- Beyond you — wronging a neighbour is also a matter with God, and no repayment on earth closes that account.
- Borne — we could never make restitution to God; the One spoken of in the Psalms repaired every breach charged against us.
if the owner thereof be with it, he shall not make [it] good; if it be a hired [thing], it came for its hire.
A borrowed animal has died, and the law asks one question: was the owner standing there or not? Verse 15 ends a short run of laws about borrowed and hired property, and it decides who takes the loss.
One writer reads chapter 22 as "You shall not steal" worked out in everyday cases:
In Exodus 21 we get judgments that extend "You shall not murder." In Exodus 22 we find judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may defraud each other in many ways, and this theme continues to the end of verse 17. The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, the offender pays damages. No one could devise a fairer penalty.
These cases sort out who pays. Verse 15 turns on whether the owner was there:
If a borrower took something, and it died or was hurt in his hands, he must repay the lender for it (v. 15). But if the owner was with the animal or other article, the owner must bear the loss of any damage.
These small disputes reach the law book because God ties them to His own character:
Exodus 22:1-15 brings the thought of restitution to our notice. It is a very necessary principle. No one who has to do with "the righteous Lord who loves righteousness" can evade responsibility. In this God has shown His concern not only for guarding the life and persons of His people, as already noted, but also for their possessions. He demands restitution from the offender, who is accountable to Him in his dealings with others.
The same writer notes that the chapter demanding exact payment also shields the people least able to pay:
These "judgments" reveal the true character of the law: inflexible righteousness, with its inescapable demands of restitution and penalty. No one could evade responsibility. Yet the spirit in which the children of Israel dealt with each other, following these divine instructions, expressed the beautiful features of grace and compassion. They were not to mistreat a stranger, or afflict the widow and the fatherless. They were to charge no interest to a poor man who borrowed money. They were not to keep a neighbour's pledged garment overnight. To this last God adds this beautiful expression, "for I am gracious."
One writer applies the same duty to debt today. He puts the weight not on whether you may borrow, but on whether you repay:
"Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law." The first sentence does not mean that it is wrong to borrow money. The question is about paying. If a debt is due, pay it right on time. Borrowing money in a reckless way, with no prospect of paying it back, is sinful. It has often brought great dishonour on the name of our Lord.
Push the demand for restitution one step further, and it exposes a debt no sinner can settle:
If robbing a fellow-man is condemned like this, how can the sin of robbing God be met? How can those who are already sinners make restitution to Him? It is impossible. Left to ourselves, we must have remained for ever under the consequences of our trespasses. But we read in the Psalms of One who said, "Then I restored that which I took not away." He has therefore made full and adequate restitution — we can say it, if we believe — for all our trespasses. In His wonderful grace and mercy, He has repaired every breach that could be charged against us. In this chapter the offender himself had to make restitution. We could not do this.
(The ESV renders that line, "What I did not steal must I now restore?")
- Restore. The whole section runs on one demand: make good what you damaged or took. Where that is impossible, pay damages.
- Restore — unless the owner was there. If the owner stood with his own property, he carries the loss. The borrower pays nothing for damage under the owner's eye.
- Restore, because God is watching. These are not just neighbourly customs. God guards possessions, because people answer to a righteous Lord.
- Restore with a gracious spirit. The same chapter that fixes exact payments also forbids mistreating strangers, widows, the fatherless and the poor. God's own reason: "I am gracious."
- Restore what you cannot restore. Sin against God leaves a debt no sinner can pay. Christ restored what He never took away, and repaired every breach charged against us.
And if a man seduce a virgin that is not betrothed, and lie with her, he shall certainly endow her, to be his wife.
This verse belongs to a long run of case laws given to Israel after the Ten Commandments. It deals with a man who seduces a girl who is not engaged, and it answers him with a debt he must pay.
The rulings just before this one deal with theft, and one writer sets seduction beside them.
If in Exodus 21 we get judgments which extend "You shall not kill," in Exodus 22 we find judgments extending "You shall not steal." Men can defraud each other in many ways. This theme continues to the end of verse 17, because a girl may be defrauded of her virtue. A penalty stands against this as against all the rest. The first demand is for "restitution." If that is not possible, then he must pay damages. No one could devise a fairer penalty than this.
The law names the man and puts the cost on him. The woman still has a share in the blame, but he cannot walk away as if nothing happened.
We now come to commands of a different kind. The first of these deals with sexual desire (v. 16). The guilt is supposed here to attach mainly to the man — though the woman is not excepted from her share. But a man cannot sin lightly and then act as if he had not sinned, especially in the way mentioned here. So he incurred the obligation of endowing her to be his wife.
Older translations call this payment a "dowry." It was a normal part of marriage in that world, not a fine invented for this case.
The sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife (Gen. 34:12; Ex. 22:16-17; 1 Sam. 18:25; compare Hosea 3:2). Leah, on having her sixth son, devoutly said, "God has endowed me with a good endowment." Gen. 30:20. The dowry Jacob gave for his wives was seven years' service for each. Gen. 29:18, 27.
So the law makes him pay the full marriage price for what he took. The next verse leaves the final say with the girl's father:
A man seducing a woman who was not engaged or married was responsible to marry her. If the father of the girl refused this, the guilty man had to pay money to the father (v. 17).
A parallel law in Deuteronomy names the sum and shuts the door on divorce.
Suppose a man and woman who were neither married nor engaged were guilty of sexual intercourse. The man had to pay fifty shekels of silver to the woman's father and keep her as his wife. He could never divorce her (vv. 28-29). In all these things God shows the seriousness of having sexual relationships. He intended this only within the marriage bond. Those who violate that today can expect unpleasant consequences, as well as the displeasure of the Lord.
Dennett carries the principle from this case law to Paul, then to Christ's words on divorce, and then to human law.
Paul lays down the principle. "Do you not know," he says, "that he who is joined to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For, as it is written, 'The two will become one flesh'" (1 Cor. 6:16). For the same reason our blessed Lord taught, "Whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another, commits adultery" (Matt. 19:9). What a comment this is on human laws that permit divorce on other grounds. Such laws ignore the wisdom of God completely, and betray total ignorance of the basic relationships between man and woman. We are bound to obey the governing authorities when they are not in conflict with the authority of God. Even so, the law of the land cannot be the guide for the conscience of the believer or of the church.
- Theft. This case falls under "You shall not steal." A man can defraud a girl of her virtue, and the law answers with restitution or damages.
- Debt. The guilt attaches mainly to the man. He cannot sin and then act as if he had not sinned, so he must endow her as his wife.
- Price. The bride-price was the ordinary sum a man paid to his wife's relatives. Jacob paid it with seven years of service for each wife.
- Bond. Deuteronomy names fifty shekels and bans divorce. God intended physical union only inside marriage.
- Conscience. Paul says the two become one flesh. So the law of the land cannot rule a believer's conscience where it conflicts with God.
If her father utterly refuse to give her unto him, he shall weigh money according to the dowry of virgins.
Verse 16 sets up the case: a man has seduced a young woman who is not married or engaged. Marriage is the normal outcome, but her father can refuse — and verse 17 says what happens then.
Most of this chapter deals with property — oxen, fields, borrowed goods, and what a thief must repay. One writer explains why a law about a young woman sits in that chapter.
In Exodus 21 we get judgments that extend "You shall not kill." In Exodus 22 we get judgments that extend "You shall not steal." Men may defraud each other in many ways, and this theme runs to the end of verse 17. A young woman may be defrauded of her virtue, and a penalty stands against this as against all the rest. The first demand is for "restitution," and, if that is not possible, then damages must be paid. No fairer form of penalty than this can be devised.
So marriage in verse 16 is the restitution. Verse 17 is the damages clause, for when the father refuses it.
The law does not treat the act as a private matter that time will erase. It fastens a permanent obligation on the man.
This law deals with sexual desire (v. 16). The guilt here is treated as belonging mainly to the man — though the woman is not excused from her share. But a man cannot sin lightly and then act as if he had not sinned, especially in the way mentioned here. So he took on the obligation of paying her bride-price and having her as his wife. Paul states the principle. "Do you not know," he says, "that he who is joined to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For, as it is written, 'The two will become one flesh'" (1 Corinthians 6:16). For the same reason our Lord taught, "Whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another, commits adultery" (Matthew 19:9). What a comment on human laws that allow divorce on other grounds. They ignore the wisdom of God, and they show complete ignorance of the basic relationships between man and woman.
The sum in verse 17 is not an arbitrary fine. It is the standard payment a man made to marry — older translations call it the "dowry."
The sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife. Genesis 34:12; Exodus 22:16-17; 1 Samuel 18:25; compare Hosea 3:2. Leah, on having her sixth son, said devoutly, "God has endowed me with a good endowment." Genesis 30:20. The dowry which Jacob gave for his wives was seven years' service for each. Genesis 29:18, 27.
So the man pays what an honest suitor would have paid, and gets no wife for it.
The daughter is not handed over to the man who wronged her. Her father decides, and his refusal does not cancel the debt.
A man seducing a woman who was not engaged or married was responsible to marry her. If the father of the girl refused this, the guilty man had to pay money to the father (v. 17).
This law is one of a long series of judgments in Exodus 21-23. They all share one concern.
After this follow the general institutions of the law, which mainly insist on retribution. No one may take advantage of the weak or the dependent. Violence cannot go unpunished, and neither can dishonour where we owe respect. Restitution must be made, and this double, fourfold, or even fivefold, according to the wrong.
Another writer sees the same care running through every statute in this section:
It is not necessary for our purpose to consider each statute in detail; a few only will be enough, though the consideration of each would yield valuable instruction as witnessing to God's gracious care and protection of those who were weak and in a position of inferiority, and who, as such, might be subject to oppression and to being unjustly dealt with by those who were stronger and in a place of authority over them.
Another writer restates the same case, with the sum named, and then draws the lesson that outlasts the legal code:
If a man and woman who were not married or engaged were guilty of sexual intercourse, the man had to pay fifty shekels of silver to the woman's father. He also had to keep her as his wife, and he was never allowed to divorce her. In all of these things God shows the seriousness of having sexual relationships. He intended it only within the marriage bond. Those who break that today can expect unpleasant consequences, and the displeasure of the Lord.
- Theft. Verse 17 sits in a chapter about what people take from each other. A young woman can be defrauded of her virtue, just as a neighbour can lose an ox.
- Restitution. Marriage is the first demand — the wrong repaired at its root. Money enters only when her father refuses that repair.
- Debt. The man cannot sin and then act as if he had not sinned. The act itself creates the obligation, because the two become one flesh.
- Price. What he pays is the ordinary bride-price a suitor would give — the full cost of a marriage, with no wife to show for it.
- Protection. Behind all these judgments stands a God who will not let the strong take advantage of the weak.
-- Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.
Exodus 22 is a run of judgments God gave Israel to live by. This one is short and severe: why does God attach the death penalty to something many people now treat as entertainment?
The Hebrew word behind "sorceress" names a practice:
The word kashaph means "to use magical formulas or incantations," "to practise sorcery." The law did not allow a witch to live. Ex. 22:18; Deut. 18:10; 2 Kings 9:22; 2 Chr. 33:6; Micah 5:12; Nahum 3:4. In 1 Samuel 15:23 the word is qesem, divination. In Galatians 5:20 it is pharmakeia, sorcery.
Older translations read "witch" here, and "a woman who has a familiar spirit" in Leviticus. Behind the formulas stands a dealing with spirits:
The essential idea of a witch was dealing with spirits. The same thing has its counterpart in spiritualism today. So in Leviticus she is described as "a woman who has a familiar spirit" (Lev. 20:27). The witch of Endor is the clearest example of her kind. Saul went to her and said, "Divine for me by a spirit and bring up for me whomever I shall name to you" (1 Sam. 28:8). This is the very thing that spiritualists claim to do — to bring the inquirer into contact with departed spirits. It is in fact a turning from God to Satan.
The judgments that follow defend two things at once:
From verse 18 to the end of the chapter we get various judgments. They may not seem closely connected, but they cover both the rights of God Himself and the rights of the poor among His people. The witch commits an outrage against God by trafficking with demons.
The harshness of the penalty shows how God views the practice:
The solemn sentence, "You shall not permit a sorceress to live" (Ex. 22:18), arrests the mind because of its severity. By it God shows His hatred of what was, in its true character, a trafficking with evil spirits. Many people make mocking remarks about this repelling evil, either to soften its dreadful influence or to disprove that it exists at all. But God's word names it as one of the marks of the great falling away in the last days: "Now the Spirit expressly says that in later times some will depart from the faith by devoting themselves to deceitful spirits and teachings of demons" (1 Tim. 4:1).
Israel's first king enforced this law and then broke it:
Saul had put down such people in line with this law by carrying out the judgment laid down here (1 Sam. 28:9), but he himself came under it… "Saul died for his breach of faith. He broke faith with the LORD in that he did not keep the command of the LORD, and also consulted a medium, seeking guidance. He did not seek guidance from the LORD. Therefore the LORD put him to death" (1 Chron. 10:13-14). No one, not even the king, was exempt from the punishment threatened.
God gave His people a test for spirit messages, and a voice to listen to instead of diviners:
The true test of all spirit messages is Christ. What do they say of Him? Do they own Him as "Lord" and "God"? Do they speak with reverence of His atoning sacrifice? Do they acknowledge Him as Judge of living and dead? … Moses says to Israel: "Those nations, which you are about to dispossess, listen to fortune-tellers and to diviners." These were what the nations fell back on as they searched for light about life beyond death. But what about God's people? "The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers — it is to him you shall listen."
One writer puts the question to Christian readers:
Are there any who take part in table-turning, spirit-rapping, mesmerism, or clairvoyance? We are certain that when people give themselves to the awful business of bringing up the spirits of the departed in any way, they are putting themselves into the hands of the devil, who deceives and deludes them with his lies. What do those who hold in their hands a perfect revelation from God want with table-turning and spirit-rapping?
Another writer names the power behind it:
It is important to see that this power is of Satan, because today far more people try to contact the spirits of the dead. Even Christians may be drawn in — and indeed have been drawn in — out of mere curiosity.
- Traffic. The sorceress was no harmless fortune-teller. Her trade was dealing with spirits — in the law, "a woman who has a familiar spirit."
- Treason. Consulting spirits is turning from God to Satan. It is an outrage against God's rights, and that is why the sentence is so severe.
- Toll. Saul enforced this law, then broke it, and died for it; the penalty reached even the throne.
- Trust. God did not leave His people guessing. In place of diviners He promised a prophet for them to listen to.
- Today. Writers apply the verse straight to spiritualism today. Even curiosity, they warn, has pulled believers into the devil's hands.
-- Every one that lieth with a beast shall certainly be put to death.
Exodus 22 collects a set of "judgments," and this one names a sin and attaches death to it without argument. Commentators place it among laws where God defends His own rights — over worship, and over the order He built into creation.
The last part of Exodus 22 can look like a random list. One writer finds the thread by asking whose rights each law protects.
From verse 18 to the end of the chapter we get various judgments. They may not seem closely connected. But they clearly cover both the rights of God Himself and the rights of the poor among His people. The witch commits an outrage against God by trafficking with demons. The sinner of verse 18 outrages His order in creation. He who sacrifices to demon powers is to be destroyed.
This law and the next one — sacrificing to any god other than the Lord — carry the same penalty. One commentator names what each sin is.
Two sins are then named to which is attached the penalty of death. The first is that of the flesh — and of the flesh in its most horrible and revolting form. The second is idolatry. God could not allow the acknowledgement among His own people of any god beside Himself. It would be a denial of His own claims and authority, and the overturning of the very foundations of His relationship with His people.
The same sin appears again in Leviticus. One commentator notes this was no theoretical danger: it was open practice among the nations around Israel, and the land itself became unclean.
The unnatural acts named here are plain enough. But few people know how shamelessly the heathen practised them, even the Greeks and the Romans. What an abomination! It is confusion, says the Lord. Israel were not to make themselves unclean in any of these things, as all the nations of Canaan did whom He drove out before them. How much guiltier, then, would Israel be! The very land was made unclean... It is by receiving the good that comes from God — His word and above all His Christ — that souls are kept from evil.
Behind such practices lies a purpose, not just an appetite. The same writer names what that purpose targets.
Among the efforts of Satan's power in idolatry, one was to destroy the order, affections, and beauty which God has established in nature. Christianity respects all such natural bonds, though it raises us above them. Satan degrades them in every way by what is unnatural. Anyone who knows even a little about the horrors of idolatry will remember how widespread and systematic such outrages were. All this the law forbade.
A law exists because the crime is possible. That turns this verse into a mirror.
The fact that the Lord had to enact laws against certain crimes proves that man is capable of committing those crimes. If the capacity and the tendency were not there, the laws would not be needed. Many people, if you named to them the gross abominations forbidden in these chapters, might be inclined to answer like Hazael: "Is your servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" Such people have not yet travelled down into the deep abyss of their own hearts. Some crimes forbidden here would seem to put man, in his habits and tendencies, below the level of a dog. Yet those very laws prove beyond all question that the most refined and cultivated person carries in his heart the seeds of the very darkest and most horrifying abominations.
The same writer does not leave the reader there. The depth of the ruin becomes the measure of the remedy.
Deep as man's ruin is, the love of God is deeper still. Black as his guilt is, the blood of Jesus can wash it all away. Wide as the gulf is that separates man from God, the cross has bridged it. God has come down to the very lowest point of the sinner's condition, so that He might lift him up into a position of infinite favour... Nothing could fathom man's ruin but God's love, and nothing could equal man's guilt but the blood of Christ.
- Order — The sin strikes at God's order in creation. That is why the law stands beside the bans on witchcraft and on sacrificing to other gods.
- Confusion — God's own name for it. The nations around Israel practised it openly, and the land itself became unclean.
- Design — Satan works to destroy the order and beauty God set in nature. The law was there to block him.
- Mirror — A law only exists because the crime is possible. So the law proves the capacity is in the human heart, even the most refined and cultivated one.
- Deeper — The depth of the ruin measures the remedy. God came down to the lowest point of the sinner's condition to lift him into favour.
-- He that sacrificeth to [any] god, save to Jehovah only, shall be devoted to destruction.
Exodus 22 is mostly everyday case law: paying back stolen goods, caring for the poor, treating foreigners well. Then comes a sentence with a total penalty — so why does sacrificing to another god weigh heavier than robbery?
The judgments from verse 18 onward look scattered. One writer finds a single thread: God's rights, and the rights of the weak.
From verse 18 to the end of the chapter we get various judgments. They may not seem closely connected. But they clearly cover both the rights of God Himself and the rights of the poor among His people. The witch commits an outrage against God by trafficking with demons. The sinner of verse 18 outrages His order in creation. He who sacrifices to demon powers is to be destroyed.
The penalty makes sense once you see what such an act says. Offering sacrifice elsewhere does not add a god alongside the true One. It pushes Him out.
God could not allow any god beside Himself to be acknowledged among His own people. It would deny His own claims and authority, and overthrow the very foundations of His relationship with His people. On their part it would deny His true character and reject His absolute rule. The worship of the true God and of false gods could not exist side by side... The acceptance of false gods amounts to a rejection of the true God. So, on the other side, Scripture says this of the Thessalonians after their conversion: "You turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God."
The image itself is nothing. But that is not where the danger ends. The Apostle warns the Corinthians about what stands behind it.
The Corinthian believers knew that the idols themselves were nothing. They knew that meat offered to idols was no different from other meat. So they were in danger of arguing that they could attend a pagan temple and eat meat offered to idols. No, says the Apostle, you forget that what they sacrifice to idols they really sacrifice to demons. Demons are the ones stirring up this idol worship. The idol may indeed be a mere nothing, but the demons behind it were very real. In leading men to worship idols, they were leading men to worship demons, and so seizing the homage due to God alone.
This is not an isolated rule dropped into a list. It restates the first commandment and attaches a penalty to it.
The words of the covenant in Exodus open with the first commandment. It requires Israel to worship God and no one else. The same sanction appears among the words of the covenant, in Exodus 22:20: "Whoever sacrifices to any god, other than the LORD alone, shall be devoted to destruction." The covenant described in Deuteronomy 29 is just the same. They entered into covenant to have the LORD for their God, and to renounce all other gods.
The first people to break this law were the very people who received it.
God had chosen this nation out of all the nations of the earth, and had favoured and enriched it. Is it not a solemn reflection that so early in its history it should be guilty of the most flagrant idolatry?
Few of us today are tempted to build an altar. The same writer names the idols that compete for the heart now.
We may not be guilty of bowing down to a god of our own making, "like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man." But there are other idols always trying to steal our hearts away from Him... The greatest and most subtle idol is self. We badly need this warning. When the apostle describes the features of the last days, the first thing he mentions is this: "people will be lovers of self."
- Claim. Sacrifice belongs to God alone. To accept another god is to reject the true One, and the two kinds of worship cannot stand side by side.
- Rival. The idol itself is nothing, but demons stand behind it, seizing the homage that is due to God alone.
- Covenant. This sentence is part of the covenant. It restates the first commandment and adds the penalty.
- Collapse. The nation that received this word — chosen, rescued, richly favoured — fell into open idolatry early in its own history.
- Guard. The rival gods that threaten now are subtler, and the most subtle of them is self.
Thou shalt neither vex a stranger, nor oppress him; for ye have been strangers in the land of Egypt.
The command not to wrong a foreigner sits among the civil laws given after the Ten Commandments, and God attaches a reason to it: Israel's own past. Why should a nation's memory of slavery govern how it treats outsiders, and what happens if it forgets?
This verse belongs to a small cluster of laws about people with no power to defend themselves.
Verses 21 to 27 protect the rights of the weakest in the land — foreigners, widows, orphans and the poor. These people count for less and cannot defend themselves. Fallen mankind tends to take advantage of these, oppressing and defrauding them. Such conduct is hateful to God, and His kindness shines out even as He gives His law. He will be their Defender. As He thinks of them His word is, "I am gracious."
The list has an order. The reason God gives reaches back to what Israel had lived through.
The foreigner comes first. The memory of what they had been in the land of Egypt was to govern how they treated such people. They had been in bitterness of soul through hard slavery under the iron yoke of Pharaoh. So they could enter into the feelings of those who were foreigners in a foreign land. The helpless are next commended to their hearts. Of all the helpless ones who appeal to our compassion, the widow and the orphan have the first claim. So God surrounds them here with the powerful defence of His own arm.
Suffering can harden people as easily as soften them. A related law shows which way God means the memory to run, and how far He takes the demand.
This cuts off in advance the narrow and base pride of later tradition. A foreigner who might live in their land was not only to be left in peace. He was to be loved as one born among them. "You shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. I am the LORD your God." How touching to remember their oppression in Egypt, not for resentment but for compassion!
Many laws in this chapter name an exact repayment. This one does not, and the silence is not weakness.
God set no exact penalty for mistreating or oppressing a foreigner or widow or orphan, though He firmly forbade it (vv. 21-24). But God warns that if the oppressed cried to Him, He would step in Himself. He would kill the oppressor by means of an enemy with a sword, leaving their wives as widows and their children fatherless.
The same instruction returns two chapters later, with an added phrase.
The ninth verse repeats the instruction given in Exodus 22:21. This shows how important it is in God's eyes. Here it comes with added emphasis: "You know the heart of a stranger." Their own experience qualified the children of Israel to sympathise with strangers. The memory of their own past sorrow was to shape how they treated people in the same position.
Kindness to outsiders reached into the harvest field, where the foreigner had done none of the work.
The nation should remember God's kindness to them. They had all been "strangers" and slaves in the land of Egypt (Ex. 22:21). So they ought to show kindness to any "strangers" among them. They were to let them glean in their fields and vineyards, making sure the reapers left something behind for the gleaners. The strangers were not of "the seed of Abraham according to the flesh," and they had taken no part in the ploughing or sowing or reaping. Even so, they were to have a full share of God's generous provision at harvest time.
One writer remembers a friend who kept these words in mind whenever he met someone lonely or out of place.
He often quoted the words, "You know the heart of a stranger." He said them when he heard of anyone lonely, or of a stranger he might show kindness to. No difference of rank hindered the welcome he gave to any whom he believed to be followers of his Lord.
- Remember — Egypt is the reason given. Israel had suffered under Pharaoh, so they knew how a foreigner feels.
- Redirect — the memory should produce compassion, not resentment. A related command goes as far as loving the foreigner as yourself.
- Reach — the command widens from not harming to giving. Landowners left grain in the field for those who never sowed it.
- Defend — God names no fixed penalty. He Himself answers the cry of the oppressed and strikes the oppressor.
- Reveal — even while giving law, God's kindness shows through in the words "I am gracious."
Ye shall not afflict any widow or fatherless child.
This command sits in a run of case laws given at Sinai, and it names the two people in Israel with no natural protector. One commentator explains why they head the list of those the law shields, and what God puts around them in place of a husband or father:
Next the law commends the helpless to their hearts. Of all the helpless ones who appeal to our compassion, the widow and the fatherless surely have the first claim. God here surrounds them with the powerful defence of His own arm. If anyone afflicts them, that man will be killed, and his wife and children will become a widow and orphans. All through Scripture these two groups are shown as the special object of God's care, and so they should be the objects of our compassionate concern.
This protection is not a random rule. It comes out of what God Himself is. One writer draws that out from Moses' words about God:
Here Moses speaks not only of God's doings, dealings and ways, but of Himself — of what He is. He is high over all, the great, the mighty and the terrible. But He has a heart for the widow and the fatherless. They are helpless ones stripped of every earthly and natural support — the poor grieving, broken-hearted widow, and the lonely orphan. God thinks of such people and cares for them in a very special way; they have a claim on His loving heart and mighty hand. "Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation." "Leave your fatherless children; I will keep them alive; and let your widows trust in me."
So who deals with the man who preys on a widow? The answer here is not a court sentence:
The law set no exact penalty for mistreating or oppressing a stranger, a widow or a fatherless child, though it firmly forbade this (vv. 21-24). But God warns that if the oppressed cried out to Him, He would step in Himself. He would kill the oppressor by the hand of an enemy with a sword, leaving their wives as widows and their children fatherless.
The punishment mirrors the crime.
This command does not stand alone. The verses around it protect others who are easy to exploit, and together they show what the Lawgiver is like:
Verses 21-27 safeguard the rights of the people who count for least and can defend themselves least — strangers, widows, the fatherless and the poor. Fallen mankind tends to take advantage of these people. It oppresses them and cheats them. God hates such conduct, and His kindness shines out even as He gives His law. He will be their Defender. As He thinks of them His word is, "I am gracious."
Why should Israel care? One writer points to their own past, and to the God they had come to know:
They knew God in the wonderful work He had done for them, and also in the commandments that displayed His character. God called them to imitate Him. If He cared for the fatherless and widows, and for the stranger, they too must care. And had they not known what it was to be strangers in Egypt? He had brought them out of that land with an outstretched arm, and He had multiplied them wonderfully through all their suffering.
The command here is a prohibition. One writer traces how it reappears in the New Testament as something positive, and points to where it was lived out perfectly:
In Exodus 22:22 we read, "You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child." In James 1:27 it says, "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." Christ, as seen in the Gospels, is the perfect example of this verse. Think of the son of the widow of Nain as one instance.
- Claim — the widow and the orphan have lost every natural protector. That gives them the first claim on our compassion, and a claim on God's own heart and hand.
- Defence — they have no one to defend them, so God puts His own arm around them. He is their Defender.
- Cry — the law names no human penalty here. Their cry goes straight to God, and He steps in against the oppressor Himself.
- Mirror — the sentence matches the sin. The man who makes widows and orphans leaves his own wife a widow and his own children fatherless.
- Imitation — Israel had once been strangers in Egypt, and God called them to imitate the One who rescued them. In the New Testament that same care becomes visiting widows and orphans. Christ lived it perfectly.
If thou afflict him in any way, if he cry at all unto me, I will certainly hear his cry;
This verse sits inside a long list of civil rulings. Yet here God stops fixing penalties and speaks about Himself: the cry of a wronged foreigner, widow or orphan reaches His own ear, and He answers it.
One writer roots this care in Israel's own memory of Egypt, and shows how God puts His own strength around the helpless.
The stranger comes first, and the memory of what they had been in the land of Egypt was to govern their conduct toward such people. They had known bitterness of soul under Pharaoh's hard slavery. So they could enter into the feelings of those who were strangers in a strange land. The helpless are next commended to their hearts. Of all the helpless who appeal to our compassion, surely the widow and the fatherless have the first claim. So God surrounds them here with the powerful defence of His own arm. All through Scripture these two groups are marked out as the special object of God's care. So they should be the objects of our compassionate concern. So James says, "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world."
The law names no human judge for this offence. God keeps the case for Himself.
God set no precise penalty for mistreating or oppressing a stranger or widow or fatherless child, though He firmly forbade it (vv. 21-24). But God warns that if those who were oppressed cried to Him, He would step in Himself. He would kill the oppressor by means of an enemy with a sword, leaving their wives as widows and their children fatherless.
Commentators read this run of verses as a guard around those least able to defend themselves. One writer hears God's own character in it.
The verses in between (21-27) safeguard the rights of the less important and more defenceless folk — strangers, widows, fatherless and poor. The tendency of fallen mankind is to take advantage of these, oppressing and defrauding them. God hates such conduct. His kindness shines out even as He gives His law. He will be their Defender. As He thinks of them His word is, "I am gracious."
The same code that demands repayment also bends toward the weak. One writer holds both together.
These "judgments" reveal the true character of the law: inflexible righteousness, with its inescapable demands of restitution and penalty. There could be no escape from their responsibility. Yet the spirit in which the children of Israel dealt with each other, following these divine instructions, expressed the beautiful features of grace and compassion. These words support what I am saying. They were not to mistreat a stranger, or afflict the widow and the fatherless (Ex. 22:21-22). They were not to charge interest to a poor man who borrowed money (Ex. 22:25). They were not to keep a neighbour's pledged garment overnight (Ex. 22:26-27). To this last God adds this beautiful expression, "for I am gracious."
One writer sets God beside the unjust judge of the parable, and shows why His delay is never indifference.
If the unjust judge hears and acts for the defenceless, whatever his motive, will not God? But this is far from all. God has His affections — not only His character, but objects of His delight. "And will not God give justice to his elect?" The righteous God, who takes vengeance, can never make light of evil or let the wicked go unpunished. For then how would He judge the world? He notices the cry from the oppressed day and night, and it is the cry of His own elect. "I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily."
Israel had more than a ban on oppression. They had a model to copy, and their own past was the reason.
They knew God in His wonderful work for them, and in the commandments which displayed His character. God called them to imitate Him. If He cared for the fatherless and widows, and for the stranger, they too must care. And had they not known what it was to be strangers in that land? He had brought them out of it with an outstretched arm, a people wonderfully multiplied through all their suffering.
- Cry. The wronged have no human court here. Their cry goes straight to God, and He hears it Himself.
- Defender. The law fixes no human penalty here. God takes the case Himself and defends the stranger, widow and fatherless.
- Mirror. The punishment mirrors the crime. The man who makes widows and orphans will leave a widow and orphans behind him.
- Gracious. The same rulings that demand full repayment carry God's own words: "I am gracious."
- Imitate. God rescued Israel when they were strangers in Egypt. Having received that care, they had to show it — what James calls pure religion.
and my anger shall burn, and I will slay you with the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless.
This verse sits in a long list of civil laws, yet it is not ordinary legislation. It is a personal warning from God: the man who crushes a widow or an orphan will lose his own wife and children. Why does God attach His own anger to a crime no human court is told to punish? And what does that show about the heart behind the law?
This law protects people who have no one to protect them. One writer shows who defends them, and how far the punishment reaches.
Next, the helpless are entrusted to their hearts. Of all the helpless people who appeal to our compassion, the widow and the fatherless have the first claim. So God surrounds them here with the powerful defence of His own arm. Anyone who harmed them would be killed, and his wife and children would become a widow and orphans.
Every other offence in this chapter carries a fine or a sentence. Here God names none. Instead His own anger burns, and He takes the case Himself.
The law set no exact penalty for mistreating or oppressing a stranger, a widow, or a fatherless child, though it firmly forbade this (vv. 21-24). But God warns that if the oppressed cried to Him, He would step in Himself. He would kill the oppressor by the sword of an enemy, leaving their wives as widows and their children fatherless.
The punishment matches the crime. One writer finds the same rule when God judges nations.
He counts every wrong done to His people as done to Himself. Through them the same evils would come back in judgment on the nations that inflicted them.
The threat is fierce, but the motive behind it is not. Reading the whole paragraph these verses belong to, one writer draws out what kind of God is speaking.
The verses in between (21-27) protect the rights of the lowlier and more defenceless people — strangers, widows, the fatherless, and the poor. Fallen mankind tends to take advantage of them, oppressing and cheating them. God hates such conduct, and His kindness shines out even as He gives His law. He will be their Defender. As He thinks of them His word is, "I am gracious."
The same care runs through the whole body of laws. Among the rules about repayment and damages, God protects those who cannot defend themselves.
No one may take advantage of the weak or of those under authority. Violence cannot go unpunished, and neither can disrespect where we owe honour... No one may harass or mistreat a stranger, a widow, or an orphan. No one may weigh down the poor or insult judges.
The people most at risk are those holding office. One writer points to the judges, who stood in God's place and yet wronged the people God defends.
Here (vv. 1-4) the sin is the injustice of the judges. They stood in the place of God Himself... yet they badly misrepresented His character and wronged His people, especially the defenceless... The highest will be brought lowest. Those will fare worst who least of all should have turned their high position and great power into greed that dishonours God, and into oppression of the weak and wretched.
The warning has a positive side. God's care for the widow and the fatherless is meant to become ours. One writer asks why this call comes first, and why we need it pressed on us.
The answer is that God, our Father, has a special care for the fatherless and the widow, and so He puts this call first. Could the reason also be that we are slow to care for the fatherless and the widow? In any case, this is a very powerful call — and we do well to take it to heart.
Notice too that these are laws, not sentiments. They set a floor under how a society treats the people at its edges.
These laws, spite of the fact that the children of Israel were now governed from Sinai, permit us to see into the depths of the heart of God.
- Cry. The widow and the orphan have no defender on earth. So they cry to God, and He hears them.
- Defender. Where the law names no fine and no court, God acts Himself. His own arm is their defence.
- Sword. The punishment matches the crime. The man who made widows and orphans leaves a widow and orphans of his own.
- Power. The heaviest warning falls on people in power. They above all should never turn their position into greed and oppression.
- Grace. Even as He gives law, God's kindness shows through. That same care is meant to become ours, because we are slow to feel it.
-- If thou lend money to my people, the poor with thee, thou shalt not be to him as a usurer ye shall charge him no interest.
Among the case laws of Exodus 22 sits a rule about money: a loan to a poor member of God's people must never turn a profit. It raises two questions — what is banned, and why does God tie His own name to a private loan?
The older translations use a word that has since narrowed in meaning. A dictionary of Bible terms sets it straight, and also marks out who the law protects:
In Scripture this word does not mean, as it does now, excessive interest, but simply interest of any kind. The Israelites were forbidden to charge interest to their brothers. The law always assumed the borrower was poor; otherwise he would not need to borrow. To strangers, however, they could lend at interest. Exodus 22:25; Leviticus 25:35-38; Deuteronomy 23:19-20. When the Jews returned, Nehemiah sharply rebuked the nobles and rulers for taking interest from their poorer brothers. Nehemiah 5:3-13. Scripture strictly commands the rich to help the poor. The only time the New Testament mentions usury is in the parables of the talents and the pounds. There the master blamed the servant for not putting the gifts to use, so that he might have received his own back with interest, or increase. Matthew 25:27; Luke 19:23.
The verse turns on one condition: the borrower is poor. One writer marks the difference between a bank loan and a neighbour in need:
Exodus 22:25 explicitly warns Israelites against charging interest when lending money to the poor. Of course, it is only proper business to expect interest from a bank, as Luke 19:23 tells us. But if someone is poor and needs financial help, it is certainly cruelty to charge him interest. By faith a believer would gladly lend without such a condition. He may in fact gladly give without conditions (2 Corinthians 9:7), expecting nothing in return.
This command sits beside protections for the foreigner, the widow and the orphan. One writer reads the whole cluster as a window into what God is like:
The two directions that follow concern the poor. The first saves him from extortion and stops the rich from making gain out of his poverty. The second keeps him from destitution and nakedness. The children of Israel were now governed from Sinai, yet these laws let us see into the depths of the heart of God.
The section ends with God saying of Himself, "I am gracious." That statement is not decoration; it explains the whole run of commands:
Verses 21-27 safeguard the rights of the less important and more defenceless people: strangers, widows, the fatherless and the poor. Fallen mankind tends to take advantage of these, oppressing and defrauding them. Such conduct is detestable to God, and His kindness shines out even as He gives His law. He will be their Defender. As He thinks of them His word is, "I am gracious."
The command was broken in Nehemiah's day, when hunger drove families to borrow from their own people:
Now, who had taken advantage of them when, in their hunger, they needed bread? It was their brothers — and yet the law of Moses forbade them to do this. The Israelite could lend to the nations, but he could not charge his brother interest (Deuteronomy 23:19-20; Exodus 22:25). So the love of money led them into this great sin.
God gave this command under law, so some may think Christians are free of it. One writer presses the opposite conclusion:
The Jews under law were forbidden to charge interest when lending to another poor Israelite. Now that we are under grace, should we ignore such instruction? Rather, under grace we might go much further, by giving instead of lending.
- Brother, not customer. "Usury" here means interest of any kind. The line the law draws is the relationship: no interest from a poor brother, though Israel could lend to outsiders at interest.
- Brother in need. The trigger is poverty, not borrowing itself. A commercial loan is a different matter; charging a man for his hunger is cruelty.
- Brother defended. God Himself shields the stranger, widow, orphan and poor. He will be their Defender, and His word over them is "I am gracious."
- Brother betrayed. In Nehemiah 5 the rich charged their own brothers interest. Commentators trace it to the love of money and call it plain disobedience to this verse.
- Brother given to. Under grace the standard rises. The believer may go past interest-free lending to giving outright, expecting nothing back.
-- If thou at all take thy neighbour's garment in pledge, thou shalt return it to him before the sun goes down;
One line of Israel's law protects the one thing a poor man could offer as security and could not do without: the coat he slept in. Why would God make a law about a borrower's bedding?
The pledge in view was not a spare item of clothing. It was the wide outer cloak that doubled as a blanket, so taking it overnight left a man exposed.
The other main garment was the simlah, a cloak or wide outer mantle. Men and women wore it, and they wrapped themselves in it at night. If a lender took this garment in pledge, he had to give it back in the evening, for without it 'what shall he sleep in?'
Taking security for a loan was an old and accepted practice; what the law did was fence it in.
People took articles as security for loans very early on. The law set limits on this, so that no one could take unfair advantage.
The law does not forbid the lender to take a pledge. It limits what his claim may cost the borrower.
If a borrower were to give his garment as security, the lender must not keep it even overnight. My righteous demands must in no way take precedence over proper compassion (vv. 26-27).
Another writer draws out two more limits: how the lender may collect the pledge, and when he must hand it back.
Here again the law limits the pledge. The creditor must not push into the debtor's house to get it. And if it is something the debtor can spare only for the day, the creditor must give it back by nightfall.
This chapter is full of penalties and repayment. Yet the way Israelites were to treat each other under those rules has a different flavour. And God backs this rule with a word about Himself.
These "judgments" show the true character of the law: unbending righteousness, demanding repayment for loss and punishment for wrong. No one could escape that responsibility. Yet the way the children of Israel dealt with each other under these instructions from God showed the beautiful features of grace and compassion... They were not to charge interest to a poor man who borrowed money (Ex. 22:25), and they were not to keep a neighbour's pledged garment overnight (Ex. 22:26-27). To this last God adds these beautiful words, "for I am gracious."
A rule about a coat shows what God Himself feels.
The children of Israel were now governed from Sinai. Even so, these laws let us see into the depths of the heart of God. What deep tenderness there is in the rule that a pledged garment must be handed back "by the time the sun goes down: for that is his covering only, it is his clothing for his skin: what shall he sleep in? And when he cries to Me, I will hear; for I am gracious." His people must show the heart of God. And He is touched by the sight of a man who has nothing to cover his body when he lies down to sleep!
Notice the scale of God's care here: one man's bedding.
Touches of this kind go far to remind us of how detailed God's regard is, and of the depth of His gracious consideration for the details of our life.
Later, a prophet describes Israel doing exactly what this rule forbids — at the altar itself.
They care nothing for the sufferings of the poor. Yet even at the altar — which is supposed to be the Lord's — they lie down on garments pledged because of poverty. And they make merry with the fines imposed for wrongdoing.
One writer turns the returned cloak into a picture of the believer's hope.
If a Jew had pawned his bedclothes, God in His mercy required them back before night. "For," He says, "that is his covering; what shall he sleep in?" (Ex. 22:27). Hope is the believer's covering. He wraps himself in it when he lays his body down to sleep in the grave: "My flesh," says David, "shall rest in hope" (Ps. 16:9). The man who has no hope of a resurrection to life goes sadly to the bed of the grave.
- Covering. The pledge was the poor man's outer cloak, his blanket at night — which is why it had to be back in his hands by sunset.
- Limit. A lender could take security, but he could not force his way into the house, and he had to hand back by nightfall what the man could not spare.
- Order. A lender's righteous claim never outranks compassion.
- Reason. God grounds the command in His own character — "for I am gracious" — and His people were to express His heart.
- Warning. A prophet later shows the law reversed: men lying down at the altar on garments taken from the poor.
for that is his only covering, his garment for his skin on what shall he lie down? And it shall come to pass, when he crieth unto me, that I will hear; for I am gracious.
A poor man hands his cloak to a lender as security, and God sets a deadline for its return: sundown. The reason He gives is not what the borrower deserves, but who He Himself is.
The cloak here is one specific garment. It was a wide outer mantle that also served as a man's bedding.
The other main garment was the simlah, a cloak or wide outer mantle, worn by men and women, and in which they wrapped themselves at night. This might be of any material according to the season, and according to the wearer's position in life. The peasants often wear such a garment, called an "abba," of camel's or goat's hair. If a lender took this garment as security, he had to return it in the evening, for without it "in what else shall he sleep?"
One writer pictures the night for a man whose only covering sits in a creditor's house.
The sun has gone down; the chill of midnight creeps over his sleeping form. It disturbs the rest he needs and endangers his health. His skin needs a covering and warmth. Where can he find this if he has pledged his garment and the lender keeps it? Nowhere.
The lender has a real right to the security. God sets a limit on how far he may press it.
If a borrower were to give his garment as security, the lender must not keep it even overnight. My righteous demands must in no way take precedence over proper compassion.
The laws around this verse are strict. They demand restitution and penalty, and no one could escape them. Yet this rule runs the other way, and the verse ends with God's reason. Where the ESV says "I am compassionate," the older wording quoted below reads "I am gracious."
These "judgments" reveal the true character of the law: inflexible righteousness, with its inescapable demands of restitution and penalty. There could be no evading that responsibility. Yet the children of Israel dealt with each other in a spirit that expressed the beautiful features of grace and compassion, following these divine instructions... no one was to keep a neighbour's pledged garment overnight. To this last God adds this beautiful expression, "for I am gracious."
Another writer finds the same heart in the rule, and a duty for God's people to show it.
Even though God now governed the children of Israel from Sinai, these laws let us see into the depths of the heart of God. What indescribable tenderness in the rule that a lender must hand back a pledged garment before the sun went down. His people must express the heart of God, and He is touched by the sight of a man who has nothing to cover his body when he lies down to sleep!
This verse sits in a run of laws about strangers, widows, orphans and the poor. They are the easiest people to exploit, and their cry goes straight to God.
Verses 21-27 protect the rights of the less important and more defenceless people — strangers, widows, the fatherless and the poor. The tendency of fallen mankind is to take advantage of these, oppressing and defrauding them. Such conduct is hateful to God, and His kindness shines out even as He gives His law. He will be their Defender. As He thinks of them His word is, "I am gracious."
God makes a law about one man's blanket. That detail is the lesson.
Touches of this kind go far to remind us how detailed God's regard is, and how deep His gracious consideration for the details of our life. He clothes the lily, He numbers the hairs of the head, and takes note of the falling sparrow. He tells us to be anxious for nothing. In everything we are to make our requests known to Him by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, and to cast all our care on Him, for He cares for us.
- Cloak. The pledge was a wide outer mantle. A poor man wrapped himself in it at night, so it was his bed as well as his coat. Hence the sundown deadline.
- Limit. The creditor's claim was genuine, but it could not outrank compassion. You may hold a right and still not press it.
- Defender. These verses guard strangers, widows, orphans and the poor. God hears their cry and stands on their side as their Defender.
- Grace. This rule sits among laws of strict restitution and penalty. It still breathes grace and compassion, and lets us see into the heart of God.
- Reason. The motive is not the borrower's worth but God's own nature: "I am compassionate." This is the God who notices the sparrow and counts the hairs of your head.
Thou shalt not revile the judges, nor curse a prince amongst thy people.
These laws are the working rules of a redeemed nation, and this one guards the men who sit in God's place over it. It raises two questions: why does Scripture give human judges a name that belongs to God, and how far must respect for them go?
The ESV reads "God" here. Older translations read "gods," with "judges" in the margin. One writer takes that plural sense and shows how far the verse reaches.
Respect for the authorities in place is also commanded: "You shall not revile the gods, nor curse a ruler of your people." Here the word "gods" means the authorities, or judges, as the margin shows. So, when it comes to kings, governors, and magistrates, the path of God's people is very simple. To all authority, of whatever form, they owe respect and obedience as long as it does not clash with what is due to God. The Lord Himself has put them in this place of subjection.
The title was not flattery. God gave it because the man on the bench stood in the place of Another. That makes the office a weight, not a privilege.
God commissioned them to represent Him — the judges of Israel. In this way they were identified with the One they represented. They carried the most solemn responsibility to show His character too, both in His righteousness and in His love to men.
Jesus was charged with blasphemy for calling Himself the Son of God. He answered from the same law that names judges "gods."
They carry this name above all in the instructions given from Sinai. In cases brought before them, the parties were to settle the matter by the award of Elohim — God, or the judges. So the Lord says: "You admit that the Scriptures have authority no one can break. If they give the name of Elohim to men taught by the word, how can you call it blasphemy when I apply the title 'Son of God' to one whom the Father has sanctified and sent into the world?" The force of the argument shows their injustice, and that is the Lord's aim.
Paul once spoke sharply to a high priest at his trial. This law stopped him.
When they challenged him for speaking as he did to "God's high priest," he had to withdraw his words. He said he had not known the man was high priest, for the law had said, "You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people." In honesty, no one could really call Ananias God's high priest, since the Romans had appointed him. Yet Paul recognized his place of rule.
Here authority itself turned the law into a weapon. Naboth dared to say No to power over a vineyard, and Jezebel had him charged under both halves of this verse at once.
She knew the penalty for blasphemy against Jehovah was death. She would find helpers to prove Naboth guilty of this. In that way she could take revenge on the man who had dared to say No to the desire of power. But Jewish teachers said that a man found guilty of blasphemy alone kept his property for his heirs, just as if he had died a natural death. So, to secure the vineyard, they had to invent a further charge of treason against him. In such a case the estate of the condemned man went to the royal treasury. So they accused Naboth of blasphemy against both "God and the king."
If only good rulers deserved honour, Ananias and Ahab would settle the question. Commentators tie honour to the office instead.
Honour is not based at all on their personal character. So we have nothing to do with where they came from, how they got their power, or how they use it. All we have to do, as believers, is to own God and the magistrate. Perhaps the magistrate, or the king, does not own God himself. That is a serious thing for him, but it does not change our relation.
There is one limit, and the order of the words matters.
Other Scriptures clearly show that the only limit to our subjection to men is the fear of God. When men insist on direct disobedience to God, we must set God first. So here the order is, "Fear God. Honour the king."
- Borrowed name. God calls judges "gods" because they stand in His place, commissioned to represent Him.
- Borrowed weight. The name binds them to show His character: His righteousness and His love to men.
- Borrowed argument. Christ used this naming against the charge of blasphemy. If Scripture calls men Elohim, the Son whom the Father sent may be called Son of God.
- Borrowed honour. Paul took back his sharp words to a corrupt, Rome-appointed high priest. He owned the place of rule, not the man.
- Borrowed authority, one limit. Give respect to every form of authority, whatever its origin or how it uses power — until obeying it would mean disobeying God. "Fear God. Honour the king."
-- Thou shalt not delay the fulness of thy [threshing-floor] and the outflow of thy [winepress]. The firstborn of thy sons shalt thou give unto me.
Exodus 22 has dealt with theft, damages and respect for those in authority. Now the law turns to what Israel owes God, and two questions sit inside it: why does He claim the first of the harvest, and what does it mean to "give" Him a son?
One writer traces how the closing section of the chapter covers two sets of rights.
From verse 18 to the end of the chapter we get various judgments. They may not seem very closely connected, but they clearly cover both the rights of God Himself and also of the poor among His people... Verse 28 demands respect for the "gods" — the judges who represented the one true God in matters of judgment. The verses after it demand a steady yielding of the firstfruits to God, as befitted holy people.
Older versions translate the second item "liquor." The Hebrew word behind it is more vivid.
In Exodus 22:29 we have another word, dema. In the text it is translated "liquor," and in the margin "tear," which is its literal force. Here it pictures the new wine and oil dropping from the press, so our English version gives the sense.
The offering was an admission — about where the crop came from, and about who the givers themselves were.
The firstfruits and the firstborn are to be offered to God (vv. 29, 30; see Ex. 13:12-13). In this way they acknowledged both their dependence and the source of their blessing, and declared that they themselves belonged to the Lord. God would give the ripe fruits and the "liquors," and as a token of this He required an offering to Himself. He claimed the firstborn of their children too. But the ground of that claim, as explained in chapter 13, was the destruction of the firstborn of Egypt on the night of the Passover, and their own redemption through the blood of the Passover lamb.
God did not make this claim once and leave it. Another writer counts the times.
Before that oppressed people had even left Egypt, He told Moses of the claim He had on all their firstborn males, and He would not give it up... He asserted that claim again and put it into the covenant made at Sinai between the people and God, as stated in Ex. 22:29. And to keep it from becoming obsolete or forgotten, He reminded them of it again in another covenant... So three times within one year God spoke of it to Moses, and through him to Israel.
"You shall give to me" meant sacrifice for the animals. For sons, Scripture supplies a different route.
In a special way God said of every firstborn, "It is MINE." This meant it had to be offered in sacrifice, and with every clean animal this was the case... They were to redeem unclean domestic animals: "The firstborn of a donkey you shall redeem with a lamb." And the same principle applies to man: "All the firstborn of your sons you shall redeem." (Ex. 34:20.)
The same writer notes how that redemption worked: God took the Levites instead of Israel's firstborn sons, and set them apart for His service in their place.
The command forbids delay, and the same principle runs through all of Scripture.
All through Scripture godliness makes one vital claim: God must have His portion first, before the believer can rightly take and enjoy his own. One feels how right it is to consider God first. It is due to Him, and true in everything; and if we do not render it, we must suffer the bitter consequence. Israel's statutes and ways impressed this so clearly that no godly person then would have touched his corn before the first sheaf was waved before Jehovah. How wonderfully this applies to Christ! Once Christ is the waved firstfruits, what blessing may not follow?
One writer says the claim still holds today: "such recognition of God's rights is just as important today as it was under law" (L. M. Grant). The altar shows how complete that belonging is.
We see, therefore, that the consecration that flowed from redemption was entire and personal. As the sacrifice was wholly consumed on the altar, so the redeemed person is regarded as belonging wholly to the Lord, soul and body, and set apart in every respect for His service.
- Ground — The claim on the firstborn rests on Passover night: the sons God spared in Egypt are the sons God owns.
- First — "Do not delay": God takes His portion before we take ours. No godly Israelite touched the harvest before the first sheaf was waved.
- Given — Firstfruits confess two things at once: the crop came from Him, and so did the people offering it.
- Redeemed — Clean animals went to the altar, unclean ones were bought back with a lamb, and sons were redeemed too — later by the Levites who stood in their place.
- Whole — As the sacrifice was entirely consumed, the redeemed belong entirely to God — soul and body, a claim writers say still stands.
Likewise shalt thou do with thy calf, with thy sheep seven days shall it be with its dam; on the eighth day thou shalt give it me.
Exodus 22 ends with God's own portion: the first calf and the first lamb belong to Him. Two questions follow. Why does God claim them? And why must the young stay a full week with its mother?
The same passage asks for the firstfruits of the harvest. Both gifts say where everything came from.
The firstfruits and the firstborn are to be offered to God (verses 29, 30; see Exodus 13:12-13). In this way they were to acknowledge two things: their dependence, and the source of their blessing. They were also to declare that they themselves belonged to the Lord. It was God who would give the ripe fruit and the juice of the presses, and as a token of this He required an offering to Himself. He claimed the firstborn of their children too. But the ground of that claim, as explained in chapter 13, was the destruction of the firstborn of Egypt on the night of the Passover, and their own redemption through the blood of the Passover lamb.
God's claim reached further than the herd and the flock, and not every firstborn met the same end.
In a special way God said of every firstborn, "It is MINE." This meant it had to go to God as a sacrifice, and with every clean animal this was the case… The people had to redeem unclean farm animals: "The firstborn of a donkey you shall redeem with a lamb." The same principle applies to man: "All the firstborn of your sons you shall redeem." (Exodus 34:20.)
The wait is not a farming detail. One writer sets it beside another law with the same timing, and weighs what those first seven days say about the animal.
As to age, the law of circumcision is the law of offering, and for a similar reason. In its first seven days the animal was unclean; the stamp of the old creation was on it… Here God sets the old creation aside. Yet the second command, not to kill the young and its mother on the same day, still recognises the natural links.
One writer weighs the usual reasons given for the delay, then points past them all.
Here the animal, when born, had to be seven days with its mother. It was otherwise in nature. The Jews say a Sabbath must pass over it. The Lord says He will accept it from the eighth day on. The great point is not the test of creation or of the law, important as both are. It is the witness of the all-important resurrection day. On that day He rose who is the Beginning — not the first but the last Adam, Firstborn from among the dead — so that He might have the foremost place in everything. Is it not His due?
Later laws tell the Israelite to eat the firstling with his household, which can look like a contradiction. One writer traces the whole chain of commands and shows what stays fixed.
In Exodus 13 we meet the first command about the firstlings. The Lord claimed them as His for ever. He had the right to dispose of them as He would. In Exodus 22:30, Exodus 34:19 and Leviticus 27:26 He reminded the people of His claim. In Numbers 18:17-18 He gave them to the priests to eat. In Deuteronomy 12:6, 17-18; 14:23; 15:19-20 He told the people who brought them to share them with their families and the Levites within their gates. This was at the place where He would choose to put His name. Now it is clear that there is a change in the law. The principle, however, that God claimed the firstlings as His, to dispose of as He would, remains the same throughout.
The altar took the whole animal, not a share of it. One writer turns that into a measure for the person God has redeemed.
So the consecration that flowed from redemption was complete and personal. The fire consumed the whole sacrifice on the altar. In the same way the redeemed person counts as belonging wholly to the Lord, soul and body, set apart in every respect for His service.
- Mine by redemption. God claimed Israel's firstborn sons because of the night He spared them in Egypt. The claim rests on redemption, and the first calf and the first lamb fall under it too.
- Mine, so given or bought back. Clean animals went to God in sacrifice. The owner had to redeem the unclean ones, and his sons too.
- Mine after seven days. The first week carries the mark of the old creation. The eighth day is the resurrection day, and God accepts the offering from then on.
- Mine, yet shared. The right to dispose of them never left God's hands. He gave the firstlings to the priests, and later let the household and the Levites eat them at the place He chose.
- Mine entirely. As the sacrifice was wholly burnt, the redeemed person belongs wholly to the Lord — soul and body, first and best.
-- And ye shall be holy men unto me; and ye shall not eat flesh torn in the field ye shall cast it to the dog.
Exodus 22 is full of court cases: theft, damage, lending, the poor. It closes with something else — a claim on the people themselves. God does not ask for a payment here. He asks for a character, and He tests it at the dinner table.
The long list of judgments ends with a statement about who Israel are, and one rule that follows. Where the ESV says "consecrated to me," the older wording below reads "holy men."
In short, they were to "be holy men to" the Lord, away from evil and set apart to God; for He who had made them His own was holy, and He wanted them suited to Himself. For this reason they were not to defile themselves with unclean food — flesh polluted by unclean animals, and fit only for dogs. A holy people must be holy in their ways, as suits a holy God.
Torn flesh carried the touch of death. That is the reason behind the ban.
The Lord is the living God. Death is sin's wages; not all of it, for judgment remains, as every Christian should know, since Christ revealed the whole truth. So the touch of death defiled anyone, and the priest much more. No Israelite was free even to eat what was torn by beasts of the field; he had to throw it to the dogs (Exodus 22:31).
Modern readers may miss the force of the instruction, because the dog of the Bible is not a pet.
Scripture constantly refers to the dog as an unclean and debased animal. So it compares the unclean Gentiles, the nations outside Israel, to dogs (Psalm 22:16; Psalm 59:6, 14). The law forbade putting the price of a dog into the Lord's treasury; it was an abomination (Deuteronomy 23:18)… They were, and are, the scavengers of Eastern cities. People throw all refuse into the streets, and the dogs eat it… In the New Testament it is the same: "Outside are the dogs," "Look out for the dogs" — used as symbols of those shut out and of the unclean.
The law did not destroy the meat. It moved it — from the table of a holy people to the street where waste belongs.
Later books return to the subject with different wording. One writer weighs the difference and offers a possible explanation.
In Exodus 22:31, in the covenant made with Israel at Mount Sinai, they were forbidden to eat the carcass of any animal that had been torn by beasts in the field… the law of Leviticus 17:15 may have concerned finding a carcass out in open country while hunting, while Leviticus 11:41 deals with death among their flocks or herds. If that is the case, they could eat what had died of itself or been torn by beasts in exceptional circumstances, as long as they carried out the purification required. But once they entered the land, they could not eat what died of itself (Deuteronomy 14:21), or what had been torn by beasts. A stranger, though, might eat what had died of itself.
The demand that opens this verse is not a stray food rule. It sums up everything God asked of a people He had set apart, and the New Testament picks it up again.
The priests who came near to God were sanctified in a special way, for God said, "I will be sanctified in those who come near Me" (Exodus 29; Leviticus 8; 10:3). And the law summed it up like this: "You shall be holy, for I the LORD your God am holy" (Exodus 22:31; Leviticus 19:2, and so on). This passage is quoted and applied to Christians (1 Peter 1:16).
One writer turns the rule into everyday terms. The point is not that the banned food is vile in itself. It is that God's people have better food.
Worldly people often think Christians are very self-righteous for keeping apart from others and refusing to share the pleasures and amusements of the world. But they do not really understand the question. In picture language, a Christian who takes part in the vanities and follies of a sinful world is like an Israelite eating something that had died of itself. The Christian, thank God, has something better to feed on than the poor dead things of this world. He has the living bread that came down from heaven, the true manna… It is not a question of the right or wrong of things looked at in themselves. No one could have known that eating something which had died of itself was wrong, if God's word had not settled it.
- Claimed — the verse ends a chapter of court cases by naming what Israel is — a people God made His own.
- Character — the reason is never their merit. It is His nature: they must be holy because the LORD their God is holy.
- Table — the test lands on ordinary food. A holy people must be holy in their ways, and flesh marked by death did not suit a living God.
- Dogs — what is unfit for God's people goes to the scavengers of the street — the animal Scripture uses as a picture of the unclean.
- Continued — the food rules shift across Exodus, Leviticus and Deuteronomy. The sentence behind them still stands: 1 Peter quotes it to Christians, who have better food than the world's dead things.
Thou shalt not accept a false report; extend not thy hand to the wicked, to be an unrighteous witness.
Exodus 23 continues God's practical rules for life between neighbours. It starts not with theft or violence, but with the tongue. The command has two halves: a report you must not pass on, and a partnership you must not enter.
These chapters are God's decisions about ordinary dealings between neighbours, and they cover far more ground than we might expect. One survey of the section lists what is banned and what is required:
Advantage must not be taken of the weak or dependent; violence cannot go unpunished, any more than dishonour where we owe respect… False report and testimony are forbidden, even if a crowd were leading the way; and on the other hand there must be no partiality to the poor man's cause, no refusal to help an enemy, no falsehood, no bribery, no oppression.
Commentators note that this list is the first thing addressed once the section on speech begins. As one writer puts it, sins of the tongue open this part of the law.
Translators have read the word here in two ways, and the second reading changes who is on trial.
It is worth noting that the first thing prohibited is "a false report." Against the word "raise," translators put the word "receive" in the margin as an alternative translation, and other versions rather support this. What great harm has been done among Christians by false reports! That it is wrong to start them we all admit. Do we all realise the wrong of receiving them?
Another writer treats that reading as the true one, and links it to the Lord's own warning about listening:
The first verse of chapter 23 deserves careful consideration, since it makes the hearer of a report responsible to check that what he has heard is true before accepting it. The true rendering of the verse is, "You shall not accept a false report." The words of the Lord Jesus, "Pay attention to what you hear," were spoken about a completely different matter, but they are of the greatest relevance here. James, in his letter, warns us about the unruliness of the tongue. He uses extremely strong terms for its habits and its defiling, destructive results.
The ESV reads "You shall not spread a false report." Older versions read "accept," and that is the sense this writer follows.
Everyone condemns the person who invents a story. Almost no one condemns the person who believes it. Yet the damage runs through the second, not the first.
There are few who would not be horrified at the thought of starting a false report. Such a sin would be condemned by all upright minds; not even a man of the world would excuse it. But, as the margin indicates, the word has a wider meaning, and includes receiving a false report too. Many who would avoid the first sin fall into the trap of the second. Someone hears a report, it seems true, and he passes it on. Yet if anyone had taken the trouble to check it, he might have found it false. … If we remembered this, we would stop many a slander at the start, expose many a tale-bearer, and avoid many a broken friendship.
The verse then moves from a report to a partnership. Carelessness about where a story came from is often what pulls a person into it.
How easily one may pass on a false report without realising it is false, because he did not carefully check its source. May the Lord keep us from this. To circulate it is bad, and so is associating with others who do so. Both of these are seen in verse 1.
Another writer names the sin behind the second half, and where it belongs:
Then false testimony is condemned — a sin known today as perjury. This command, like the one in the next verse and those in verses 3 and 5, seems to be connected with the running of justice.
The verses that follow show what can push an honest person into a wrong verdict: dislike of an enemy, or sympathy for the poor.
Notice how these rules leave no room for human feelings in matters of judgment. They forbid every unrighteous witness. They also forbid letting dislike for an enemy hold back help in a time of need, as we see in verses 4 and 5. And one's feelings about the poor must not sway the judgment, either for him (verse 3) or against him (verse 6).
So what should you do when someone brings you a story about another believer?
But what if another believer comes to us with an evil report about a brother or sister? Ask that person to stop speaking this way. How much evil speaking would die on the spot if we did this. … We should remember that even where sins have been committed, there is no blessing in sharing the details with others when there is no need. The circle of information should be kept as small as possible — to those who can deal with it righteously.
- Two guilty parties. The verse condemns the person who starts a false report. On the reading commentators highlight, it condemns the one who accepts it too.
- Two doors. Speaking is one door for a lie; listening is the other. Shut the second and the lie has nowhere to travel.
- Two hands. The wicked man wants a partner. Lending your hand to his accusation makes his witness yours.
- Two checks. Check where the story came from before you believe it. Then refuse to be the next one to tell it.
- Two outcomes. When hearers check what they hear, slander dies early and friendships hold. When they don't, tale-bearers thrive.
Thou shalt not follow the multitude for evil; neither shalt thou answer in a cause, to go after the multitude to pervert [judgment].
This verse sits inside the laws about giving evidence and settling disputes. It names two pressures at once: a crowd running toward evil, and the wish to shade your testimony so it matches the majority.
The laws around this verse deal with witnesses and verdicts. They rule out personal sympathy and personal dislike alike.
Notice how these matters of judgment shut out human feelings. All dishonest testimony is forbidden. But more than that, dislike for an enemy must not hold back your help in his time of need, as we see in verses 4 and 5. And feelings about a poor man must not sway the judgment, either for him (verse 3) or against him (verse 6).
The crowd is one more pressure that must not bend a verdict.
The command assumes something about us: wrongdoing feels easier when we share it. One writer explains why numbers have this effect.
Wickedness of this kind loves company. A sympathetic crowd encourages bold sinning. Even the believer needs the warning, "You shall not fall in with the many to do evil." Evil can be greatly watered down in our minds by the many who share it with us. Wickedness is cowardly by nature. It loves to share its responsibility with others, even while it scoffs at the idea of responsibility. Faith, however, walks alone, even in the middle of a crowd. Conscience is individual too. It has a wide reputation for making people stiff and awkward, and unfit for much company.
Guilt feels lighter when many carry it. The command breaks that illusion.
The warning is not only about wicked mobs. A crowd of sincere people can still be going the wrong way.
All too often Christians have gone off on a wrong course. They assure themselves it must be right, because many of their friends are travelling that road. A crowd of real saints may follow a course that is wrong, but that does not make it right. Our responsibility is to let the Word of God govern us, even if that means parting from a crowd.
One writer searched Scripture for anything like majority rule.
I see nothing in the Word that resembles the decision of a majority. If the church is in a bad state, the majority will probably decide wrong. And nothing can prove that the Holy Spirit is with the majority. It is only a human way of settling a matter. In practical arrangements you may well consider what suits the greater number. But in moral things, the number counts for nothing.
The trial of Jesus is the clearest breach of this command. The judge had already formed his own verdict, then handed the decision to the crowd.
The voice of the people prevailed over the better judgment of Caesar's representative. In other words, on that occasion autocracy stepped aside in favour of democracy, and the popular vote decided it. An old Latin proverb says that the voice of the people is the voice of God. The facts of the crucifixion flatly deny that proverb. Here the voice of the people was the voice of the devil.
Another writer draws the same lesson from Pilate's court, noting what was actually being weighed there:
This is where a first element of democratic politics becomes visible: what matters is not the correct moral judgement of the issue in question, but the opinion and mood of the crowd... We do well to respect the old warning: "You shall not fall in with the many to do evil" (Ex. 23:2).
Sometimes no one will go the right way with you. Commentators urge such a person to walk alone — and they urge how to do it.
Suppose a faithful soul finds, in some place, not even one person willing to walk with him in the right ways of the Lord. Even then he must not "fall in with the many to do evil" (Ex. 23:2). He must be prepared to stand alone, sure that God will not forget him. But such a path calls for special grace. He must walk it with the deepest possible humility and self-denial, in case Elijah's "I, even I only, am left" grows in the soul. Nothing could be more spiritually disastrous.
Refusing the crowd is not coldness toward it. One writer puts obedience and love together:
I must follow the Master rather than all others. I must not make the disobedience of others an excuse for disobeying myself... And this, moreover, is true love. If you would help someone out of a muddy ditch, you must not put your own feet beside him in the mud. First look to your own footing. Plant yourself firmly on solid ground. Then you can reach out a hand and lift your neighbour out.
- Pressure. A crowd makes evil feel lighter. Wrongdoing loves company and shares out its responsibility.
- Principle. Numbers cannot settle a moral question. Even a crowd of real believers can take a wrong road.
- Person. Conscience is your own. Faith walks alone even inside a crowd, and God's Word rules, not the majority.
- Proof. At the cross the popular vote overruled the judge. There the voice of the people was the voice of the devil.
- Path. If no one will walk with you, stand alone. Do it with deep humility, and keep reaching a hand to those in the mud.
Neither shalt thou favour a poor man in his cause.
This short line sits between rules about false witness and mob pressure. Why would God, who cares for the poor, forbid bending a case in their favour?
One writer places this verse beside verse 6, which forbids the opposite mistake:
Moses says, "You shall not pervert the justice due to your poor in his lawsuit" (Ex. 23:6). This means that men must not set aside justice because it favours a man who happens to be poor. But he also says, "nor shall you be partial to a poor man in his lawsuit" (Ex. 23:3). This means that a man must not escape justice because he is poor.
Two opposite errors, one principle. Poverty is neither a disqualification nor a defence.
One writer reads this verse together with the ones around it:
Notice how these rules shut human feelings out of judgment. Every kind of unjust testimony is forbidden. Your dislike of an enemy must not hold back help in his time of need, as we see in verses 4 and 5. And feelings about the poor must not sway the judgment, either for him (verse 3) or against him (verse 6).
The command does not cancel God's tenderness toward the weak. It shows where that tenderness belongs:
They must show Him also on His salvation side, in His regard for the poor, the weak, the defenceless, and the oppressed. "Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute." It must still be justice. Pity for the poor must never break that, and there was a special commandment about this (Ex. 23:3). Yet his poverty should still make him an object of special and tender care: "Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked."
Pity may fuel your rescue work. It may not rewrite the verdict.
The command follows straight on from the warning against following a crowd into evil. Both press on a witness, and different people feel different pulls:
It is difficult to stand alone against a multitude, though the cause may be just. With the Lord before the soul it becomes simple. On the other hand, a poor man must not be supported in his cause when it is unjust. And when his cause is just, his judgment must not be perverted (v. 6). Some feel the pull of the rich, and some the pull of the poor, especially in a day of democracy and contempt for lawful authority. But the heart must be free from both, and it will be free if it is obedient to the word of God.
The verse is not limited to a courtroom. Among God's people it meets a motive that can hide inside kindness — ambition:
The fear of God is of the highest importance here. The faithful heart always knows how to love the poor of the flock, because Christ loves them. Yet the ambitious flesh of man needs this command, "nor shall you be partial to a poor man in his lawsuit" (Ex. 23:3). It needs it as much as it needs the one that forbids deferring "to the great" (Lev. 19:15). Those who serve Christ alone in everything will be blessed and rewarded by Him in glory at the last day.
This command belongs to a whole system of judging, and one writer stops to admire it:
How morally lovely, how pure, how refined and elevated were the divine instructions for Israel! They were not to pervert judgment. They were to let it flow in its own straight and even channel, with no regard for persons at all. The poor man in shabby clothing was to have the same impartial justice as the man with a gold ring and fine clothes. Partiality and prejudice were not to warp the decision of the judgment seat. Bribery was not to stain the robe of justice. What will it be for this oppressed and groaning earth to be governed by the admirable laws recorded in the first five books of the Bible, when a king reigns in righteousness and princes decree justice! No perverting of judgment, no bribery, no partial judgments then.
- Straight channel. Justice runs in its own even course. The person standing in it must not bend it — shabby clothing and gold ring weigh the same.
- Bent by pity. The bend this verse forbids is the sympathetic one: no man escapes justice because he is poor.
- Bent by prejudice. Verse 6 forbids the opposite bend, against the poor. Writers read the two verses as one rule guarding both sides of the scale.
- Bent by feeling. The nearby commands strip personal feeling out of judgment. Dislike of an enemy, sympathy for the needy, the pull of a crowd, the lure of a bribe — none of them may touch the scales.
- Straightened by obedience. Some hearts lean toward the rich, some toward the poor. The word of God frees the heart from both.
-- If thou meet thine enemy's ox or his ass going astray, thou shalt certainly bring it back to him.
Among the laws on honest witnesses and fair courts sits a small test: a stray animal on the road, and an owner who hates you. The command tells you what to do before your feelings can vote. It raises a question too: how far did the law of Israel already reach toward the enemy?
This command is not a stray act of kindness. It sits among laws about true testimony and fair judgment, where personal feeling gets no say.
Notice how human feelings are shut out in these matters of judgment. Not only is all false witness forbidden; dislike for an enemy must not stop you from helping him in a time of need, as we see in verses 4 and 5. And your feelings about the poor must not sway the judgment either, for him (verse 3) or against him (verse 6).
A stray ox is a small thing. That is why it tests a man: no one is watching, and the owner is an enemy.
Verse 4 is again intended to test our honesty. Even if someone is an enemy and we see his animal straying, the honest thing is to return it to him. Or suppose we know that another person hates us, and his donkey has too heavy a load. We are responsible to give what help we can (v. 5), even though the natural thing would be to ignore it. It is the same principle found in Romans 12:20: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head."
People narrowed the word "neighbour" until it stopped short of the enemy. This verse shows the narrowing was never God's.
But the Jews deliberately overlooked that God had also commanded them in the law to love their enemies (see Ex. 23:4-5; Lev. 19:33-34). The Lord Jesus then goes on: "But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." In this He does not give His disciples new commandments. He judges the way people had narrowed the old commandment, and the addition they made to it. In God's thinking, every person we deal with is our neighbour, even if he or she turns out to be our personal enemy.
Commentators differ here. One finds the command to love an enemy already in the law. Another says what the Lord taught goes beyond anything law could teach, and that the deeper question is not whether an act is right, but what fills the heart.
"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Here was something the law never could teach — it is grace. In a thousand practical instances, the question is not whether the thing is right. We often hear Christians asking, Is such a thing wrong? But that is not the only question for a Christian. Suppose someone wrongs him. What should he feel then? If another person hates him, what should he cherish in his own heart?
Returning a hostile man's animal is not natural. One writer traces such kindness to God's own character, and to a day when Israel fed a captured enemy army instead of killing it.
A command like this must have startled an Israelite. It rises above nature, and above law, which deals with evil feeling and evil ways as they deserve. Here it is "the kindness of God," and His call to act on a goodness that is seen in Him and can only flow from Him. We see it actually done, and on a large scale, when God's power led a Syrian army, sent to arrest the prophet Elisha, blindfolded into the capital city of Israel. The king asked the prophet, "Shall I strike them?" But the man who spoke for God said, No; "set bread and water before them, that they may eat and drink and go to their master."
Kindness does not leave the enemy unchanged. It works on him like fire, and it can go two ways.
Heaping coals of fire on an enemy's head by kindness (Prov. 25:21-22; Rom. 12:20) puts him to the test, as fire tests metal. The kindness shown him will either bring him to repentance and friendship, or harden him even more.
- Setting — The command sits among laws on true witness and fair judgment. Dislike does not get to decide what you do.
- Test — A stray animal is a small matter. That is why it measures honesty when the owner hates you.
- Reach — Some writers say the law itself already commanded love for an enemy here. Others say loving enemies is grace, beyond what law could teach.
- Source — This kindness rises above nature and law. It can only come from the goodness seen in God Himself.
- Result — Kindness given back for hostility puts the enemy to the test. It either wins him as a friend or hardens him further.
If thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lying under its burden, beware of leaving [it] to him thou shalt certainly loosen [it] with him.
This command sits among rules about honest testimony and fair judgment. It moves from the courtroom to the roadside. The question is simple: does your dislike of a man get a vote in what you owe him?
The verses around this one forbid false witness and unfair rulings. This command belongs to the same pattern.
Notice how human feelings are shut out in these matters of judgment. Not only is all unrighteous witness forbidden. Dislike for an enemy must also not hold back help in a time of need, as we see in verses 4 and 5. And further, one's feelings about the poor must not sway the judgment, either for him (verse 3) or against him (verse 6).
The law does not ask whether you like the man. It asks what you do about his animal.
Verse 4 is again meant to test our honesty. Even if a man is an enemy and we see his animal straying, the honest thing is to return it to him. Or suppose we know that another person hates us, and his donkey has too heavy a load. Our natural inclination would be to ignore it. But we are responsible to give what help we can (v. 5). It is the same principle found in Romans 12:20: "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head."
The verse allows for the pull inside you — the wish to walk on. The matching law in Deuteronomy names that wish outright: "you shall not... hide yourself from them" (Deuteronomy 22:4).
Here the two lessons we have spoken of are very clearly presented. What a deeply humbling picture of the human heart we have in that one sentence, "You may not hide yourself"! We are capable of a low and detestable selfishness. We hide ourselves from our brother's claims on our sympathy and help. We dodge the holy duty of looking after his interests. We pretend not to see his real need of our aid. Such is man! Such is the writer!
The one actually suffering here is a beast, unable to help itself, and it belongs to the wrong man. Scripture repeatedly measures people by how they treat such creatures.
Men are tested by their treatment of the creation that God put under human authority. Indifference to one's animal is unworthy; cruelty is worse. So the righteous man cares for his animal's life. But even the tender mercies of the wicked are cruelty. The Lord's tender mercies are over all His works. The day is coming when everything that has breath will praise Him.
Jesus told of a man left half dead on the road, passed by first by a priest and then by a Levite — the very men who handled Israel's worship and taught its law.
The wounded traveller lay in his blood, and two men passed by: one a priest, the other a Levite. Neither offered a helping hand. Yet the law taught that even the donkey of an enemy must be helped when you see it groaning under its burden (Ex. 23:5). But out of all classes and ranks of men, why did the Saviour pick the priest and the Levite as the ones who did nothing for the dying man? Surely to teach us that the system these men represent cannot meet the need of ruined man. The priest's business was with religious forms and ceremonies, and the Levite was responsible to teach the people the law of God. Yet God's own hand pictures both of them doing nothing for a man in his hour of deadly danger.
Where does such kindness come from? One writer traces it above nature and above law, to God Himself.
The first of these sayings must have startled an ordinary Israelite. It rises above nature, and above law. Law deals with evil feeling and evil ways as they deserve. Here it is "the kindness of God," and His call to act on a goodness which is seen in Him and can only flow from Him. We see it acted out literally and on a large scale when divine power drew a Syrian army, sent to arrest the prophet Elisha, blindfolded into the capital city of Israel. The king asked the prophet whether to strike them. But God's spokesman said no: "Set bread and water before them, that they may eat and drink and go to their master." After that, Syrian raiders came no more into the land of Israel. It was God in Christ; it is God in the Christian. Is it obsolete in Christendom? May it not be so in Christians! It is too precious to lose.
- Command. The law will not let dislike decide your duty. Feelings get no vote in judgment, toward an enemy or toward the poor.
- Heart. Your natural pull is to walk past. Scripture calls that hiding yourself, and names it selfishness.
- Hands. Honesty is not a feeling but an act: return the straying animal, lift the fallen one, even for the man who hates you.
- Witness. The priest and the Levite knew this law and still walked past a dying man. Religious position cannot meet the need of ruined people.
- Source. This kindness is God's own. Christ showed it, and God means His people to show it still.
Thou shalt not pervert the judgment of thy poor in his cause.
This command sits among Israel's courtroom laws, guarding the man too poor to defend himself. It stands opposite verse 3, and the pair asks one question: does being poor change what justice owes a man?
Verses 3 and 6 fence the same road from opposite sides. One writer reads them together: a man's poverty must neither win him a verdict nor cost him one.
Moses says, "You shall not pervert the justice due to your poor in his lawsuit" (Ex. 23:6). This means that men must not set aside justice because it favours a man who happens to be poor. But he also says, "nor shall you be partial to a poor man in his lawsuit" (Ex. 23:3). This means that a man must not escape justice because he is poor.
(The older translation reads "wrest the judgment" — to twist a verdict out of shape — and "countenance a poor man in his cause.")
Together the two verses shut out the judge's private feelings.
Notice how these matters of judgment shut human feelings out. The law forbids all unrighteous witness. It also says that dislike for an enemy must not stop you from helping him in a time of need, as we see in verses 4 and 5. And your feelings about the poor must not sway the judgment, either for him (verse 3) or against him (verse 6).
Why does the law name the poor man and not the rich? One writer points to who can defend himself and who cannot.
It may seem strange to say, "Do not rob the poor," and stranger still to add, "because he is poor." But we need this warning, for human nature is now so base, selfish, and cruel. The rich might look like the more inviting prey for men without conscience. Yet they can take care of themselves in ways the poor would not or could not try. So bad men flatter the rich for gain, while they also rob or oppress those who ought to be objects of pity. But the Lord has His eye on such villainy, at the very gate where justice should flow. He pleads the cause of the poor and the afflicted, and He repays heavily those who plunder them.
This command is not a one-off kindness. It carries the stamp of every law God gave.
In the first place, on God's part, we find Him making laws that show strict, even-handed, perfect justice... God provided for everything, upheld every interest, and met every claim. There was no partiality — no distinction made between the rich and the poor. God weighed each man's claim on scales set with divine accuracy, so no one could rightly complain of a decision. No one was to stain the pure robe of justice with bribery, corruption or partiality.
Verse 6 opens a short run of commands, and they all test one thing — honesty.
Verse 6 gives the other side of the matter raised in verse 3. We must not dare to take advantage of a poor person to make him suffer wrongly. This is a common evil, of which James speaks in the strongest terms (James 5:4)... Taking a bribe is just as dishonest, whatever the cause. If a righteous man does this, it will lead him to pervert his words (v. 8). Oppressing a stranger is dishonest too, for we were once strangers and God showed us kindness... All these things were written from the viewpoint of law. They still have real value: they challenge us as to how honest we really are.
The words of this law return at the trial of Jesus. One writer lays the charge against Israel's leaders in those very terms.
They had perverted the judgment of the poor man. They had brought about the killing of the innocent and righteous One... Then the spiritual Man, God's King, His Anointed One, comes face to face with the man who held ruling power over the peoples of the earth in God's place... He stands there before His murderers and persecutors. He is not there to answer their spiteful, false accusations. He is there to state and prove His claims — by being just in the face of injustice, and by showing falsehood up with truth.
- Justice, not sympathy. Verse 3 forbids favouring the poor man; verse 6 forbids robbing him of a fair hearing. Justice does not bend either way.
- Feelings out. Dislike of an enemy and pity for the poor must both stay out of the verdict. The judge's heart is not the measure.
- Why the poor. The law names them because they cannot defend themselves as the rich can. That is what makes them the easy prey of selfish men.
- God's eye at the gate. God pleads the poor man's cause Himself and repays those who plunder him. Bribery and the crushing of strangers fall under the same eye.
- The final case. At Christ's trial they perverted the judgment of the poor Man. He answered injustice by being just, and falsehood by being true.
Thou shalt keep far from the cause of falsehood; and the innocent and righteous slay not; for I will not justify the wicked.
Exodus 23:7 closes a run of courtroom laws with a warning that reaches past the judge's bench into the heart: stay away from a false charge, never condemn the innocent, because God Himself will not do it. The reason given at the end of the verse is not a legal principle but a statement about God's own character — and it raises the question the New Testament has to answer.
The command asks for more than a right verdict. It calls for distance from the whole false case. The next verse bans bribes.
We must always be on guard to avoid the slightest involvement in a false matter or in condemning the innocent or righteous (v. 7). It is just as dishonest to accept a bribe, for whatever reason: if a righteous man does this, it will lead him to pervert his words (v. 8).
A bribe works on the feelings, not the facts. The danger is wider than money changing hands.
Verse 8 prohibits all forms of bribery, which is an appeal to the feelings of the one who is bribed. Where bribery is widespread, justice is almost unknown. "The bribe blinds those whose eyes are open" (another translation). Let us read this verse in its spirit as well as its letter. Self-interest can blind the eyes of a sincere Christian, who would never for a moment think of taking a bribe.
The closing words are easily misread as "I will not let the wicked off." The verb means something narrower and sharper, and this verse is where its exact form is defined.
The word translated "justify" occurs in that precise form of the verb only in Exodus 23:7: "I will not justify the wicked." That is, God will not make a wicked man a just man, or declare him to be one. "By his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities" (Isaiah 53:11, older translation).
To declare a guilty man innocent is not kindness. It attacks the way God governs the world.
On both sides the guilt is serious in Jehovah's eyes. It is not only sympathy with evil men and hardness towards the righteous, it is direct opposition to every principle of divine government.
The reason God gives is His own practice. He never mistakes the guilty for the innocent, and no guilty person slips past Him.
Truth and righteousness are also required (v. 7). The ground given is most striking — "For I will not justify the wicked." God is righteous in all His ways of government, and He tells the guilty from the innocent without error. So the wicked can never escape His condemnation. But in grace He has revealed a way by which He can justify the ungodly (Rom. 5). Under law this was impossible.
God said He will not justify the wicked. Yet the gospel says He justifies the ungodly. How can both be true?
But is God righteous in justifying the ungodly like this? Had He not declared under the law, "I will not justify the wicked" (Ex. 23:7)? On what ground, then, does God righteously credit righteousness to the believer? The apostle, answering such a question, points to the Person of the adorable Son of God. In Christ Jesus, God displayed His righteousness in justifying those who believe. Before this, God set His gracious dealings on a righteous basis in secret, not in the open. He could not reveal the foundations of His righteousness in grace until Christ came.
This verse forbids condemning the innocent. Pilate did exactly that to Jesus, then washed his hands and called himself innocent.
There was no excuse for Pilate, any more than for the leaders of Israel; all were guilty of condemning the innocent One. Pilate knew what he was doing. Three times over he declared Jesus to be guiltless. Yet he had the nerve to wash his hands in front of the mob and say, "I am innocent of the blood of this righteous man" (Matt. 27:24). How could he be innocent of His blood? He scourged Jesus and handed Him over to the will of those who cried for His blood.
- Distance. Do more than judge fairly. Keep away from the false case altogether, because self-interest can blind an honest man just as a bribe blinds a judge.
- Definition. To justify is to declare someone just. God will never declare a wicked man just. Isaiah uses the same word of the Servant who justifies many by bearing their sins.
- Deadlock. God's refusal comes from His own character. Under law, nothing could clear a guilty person.
- Deliverance. The gospel answers the deadlock by pointing to Christ. In Him God displayed His righteousness while justifying those who believe.
- Demonstration. The trial of Jesus broke this verse most openly. A judge who three times called Him guiltless still condemned Him.
And thou shalt take no bribe; for the bribe blindeth those whose eyes are open, and perverteth the words of the righteous.
This command sits in a run of rules about honest courts, and it turns from the witness stand to the judge's own hand. A judge must take no gift, because of what a gift does to the man who takes it.
The verses around this one deal with false reports, false testimony, and verdicts bent for the rich or the poor. One writer names the real damage a gift does — not to the case, but to the man deciding it.
A warning is added against the acceptance of gifts. The question, remember, is still one of judgment between one person and another, or of telling truth from falsehood. To receive a gift in such a case would blind the wise and pervert the words of the righteous. It might shut God out from the soul, and so stop a person from seeing with a single, undivided eye.
The ban is total, because a bribe never works by argument. And its reach goes far past law courts.
Verse 8 prohibits all forms of bribery, which is an appeal to the feelings of the one who is bribed. Where bribery is widespread, justice is practically unknown. "The bribe blinds those whose eyes are open" (an older translation). Let us read this verse in its spirit as well as its letter. Self-interest can blind the eyes of a sincere Christian, who would never think of accepting a bribe.
So the danger is not to fools. It falls on people whose eyes are open.
One writer, looking at the same command in Deuteronomy, draws a conclusion from its very existence.
We learn what man's judgment is worth if he is left to himself. It cannot be trusted for a moment. Man is capable of twisting judgment, of showing favouritism, and of taking a gift. He can treat a person as important because of his position and wealth. We know he is capable of all this, because God tells him not to do it. If God commands a man not to steal, it is plain that man has theft in his nature.
Commenting on Samuel's record as a judge, one writer explains what he knew about gifts.
He well knew the blinding power of presents, even when they are not given directly to corrupt the court. He knew how easily judges may be swayed by gifts from the hands of those bringing the case — almost without knowing it themselves. Even a small gift will do it. Nehemiah followed a similar course, "because of the fear of God," he says (Neh. 5:15). Paul, too, in his farewell word to the elders of the assembly at Ephesus, says, "I coveted no one's silver or gold or apparel" (Acts 20:33-34).
Jehoshaphat admired this very trait in God, then walked into the snare himself. A bribe rarely arrives looking like one.
Notice the special feature in the Lord's character that caught Jehoshaphat's attention: "There is no injustice with the Lord our God, or partiality or taking bribes." Now his own snare seems to have been Ahab's gift. Ahab killed sheep and oxen in abundance for him and for the people with him. Then he persuaded him to go up with him to Ramoth-gilead. He let his heart be warmed by Ahab's gift, and so was more easily swayed by Ahab's arguments... We can never weigh the world's arguments and suggestions calmly while we are breathing its air or accepting its compliments.
This standard is not just a rule for Israel's courts. It describes God Himself. That is solid ground for anyone whose just cause has been overturned by a bought verdict.
This great God of Israel shows no partiality and takes no bribe. Instead He does justice for the fatherless and the widow, and He shows love toward strangers. Most rulers in the world today are nothing like this! Law courts too often show a sad disregard for justice. The poor suffer gross injustice, while the wealthy use their money to bend court decisions in their own favour. Believers may well be deeply thankful for a God who is perfectly just and faithful.
- Blinds — a bribe does not argue with the mind. It appeals to the feelings, and it blinds people whose eyes were open.
- Small — the danger is not the obvious payoff but the modest present, which sways a judge almost without his knowing it.
- Shuts out — the real cost is an undivided eye toward God; a gift can shut Him out of the soul.
- Warms — Jehoshaphat's snare was hospitality, not cash; the world's compliments do the work a bribe would do.
- Unbought — the rule reflects God's own character. He shows no partiality, takes no bribe, and does justice for the widow, the orphan, and the outsider.
And the stranger thou shalt not oppress; for ye know the spirit of the stranger, for ye have been strangers in the land of Egypt.
This command closes a run of laws about honest courts and fair dealing. Its reason is not a penalty but a memory: Israel had lived as outsiders in Egypt, so they knew from the inside what a stranger feels.
The verses just before this one warn against bribes and against taking advantage of the poor. One commentator sees the ban on oppressing a stranger as part of the same subject: plain honesty.
We must not dare to take advantage of a poor person to make him suffer wrongly... It is just as dishonest to accept a bribe, whatever the reason. If a righteous man does this, it will lead him to pervert his words (v. 8). Finally, oppressing a stranger is also dishonesty, for we were once strangers, and God has shown us kindness. Honesty would therefore show similar kindness to strangers (v. 9).
The same command appeared earlier in the book. Here it comes back with a reason attached. (Where the ESV says "sojourner," the older translations these writers quote say "stranger.")
The ninth verse repeats the command given in Ex. 22:21. This shows how important it is in God's eyes, and it comes with emphasis here: "You know the heart of a stranger." Their own experience qualified the children of Israel to sympathise with strangers (compare Heb. 4:15; also Heb. 2:18). The memory of their own past sorrow was to shape how they treated people in the same situation.
A later law in Leviticus goes further. One writer notes which way it makes the memory of Egypt run.
A stranger who might live in their land was not only to be left alone in peace, but to be loved as one born among them. "You shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God" (33, 34). How touching to remember their oppression in Egypt, not for resentment but for compassion!
Behind the command stands God's own conduct. One commentator sets that model beside a second thing Israel was to remember.
They were not only to keep the divine model before their eyes. They were also to remember their own past history and experience, so that their hearts might go out in sympathy and compassion toward the poor homeless stranger. It was the binding duty and high privilege of the Israel of God to put themselves in other people's place and enter into their feelings. They were to be the moral representatives of that blessed One whose people they were, and whose Name they bore.
Why name the stranger in particular? One writer points to the person most likely to be treated differently.
This first section ends by putting the protection of the law over anyone who might be a stranger in Israel. Such a person was likely to be treated differently. In this we see the compassionate interest of our God for those outside "the commonwealth of Israel" (Eph. 2:12).
One writer applies this verse to the children of God today, because God has made them strangers as well.
I have also learnt that the children of God know what it is to be strangers (Exod. 23:9; Lev. 19:34), because God has made them strangers and pilgrims on the earth. The ties that unite them are not of this world. They will remain when everything that marked them out here below has ceased to exist.
One writer remembers a man who turned the phrase into a habit.
He often quoted the words, "You know the heart of a stranger," when he heard of anyone lonely, or a stranger, to whom he might show kindness. No difference of rank hindered the welcome he gave to any whom he believed to be followers of his Lord.
- Memory — The command repeats Exodus 22:21 and adds a reason: Israel had felt what a stranger feels.
- Sympathy — That memory was not to breed resentment. It qualified them to enter into the feelings of others.
- Imitation — God Himself was the model. His people were to represent Him, since they bore His Name.
- Reach — The law covers the stranger too, the person outside Israel who would otherwise be treated differently.
- Identity — God has made His children strangers and pilgrims on the earth. So the words become a prompt to welcome the lonely and the unknown.
And six years thou shalt sow thy land, and gather in its produce;
God gave Israel a farming calendar shaped like the week. Six years of sowing and reaping, then a year when the fields rest. That raises two plain questions. How does a family eat through a year with no crop? And who does the fallow year serve?
After a run of prohibitions, the tone shifts. One writer sees the six-and-one pattern of the working week carried over into the land's calendar.
In contrast to the negative laws of the first nine verses, verses 10-19 speak positively about the attitude Israel was to show toward God. God told people to work six days of the week. In the same way He tells them to sow their crops six years out of seven, and to let the land lie fallow in the seventh year. This was good for the land. It also showed consideration for the poor. They could come onto someone else's property and take any produce that came up on its own, even though no one had worked the land.
The field was never really the farmer's. Its rest said who owned it, and who else God had in view.
The land was to enjoy her sabbaths, as a lasting sign that it belonged to the Lord. So it, as well as man, must share God's rest. Here, however, the poor and the beasts of the field are prominent. Both had to be considered. However far apart they stand, both alike are creatures of God. This reminded the children of Israel that they were only tenants. They held their land, their vineyards and their olive groves from the Lord. So they had to consider even the poor and the beasts of the field, because these too were the objects of His care.
The command itself gives no answer to the food problem. One commentator ties the answer to the warning against other gods that closes the same section.
The second section — verses 10-13 — commands rest, not only for man and beast but even for the land. The natural tendency would no doubt be to ask: if we keep verse 11 about one year's rest in seven, how are we to live in the seventh year? The answer surely would have been: as to that, you must trust in God. That is why, we think, the section closes by telling them to be "circumspect," or "on their guard," and not to name other gods. No false god could give them any such assurance. They would only destroy the assurance that would enable them to obey.
Set beside the other duties here, the fallow year does moral work on the heart.
Yet it becomes clear, as we look at what is before us here, how great a check to covetousness these ordinances would be. Every seventh day was a Sabbath of rest. Every seventh year was a sabbath year as well. Three times a year every male was to appear before the Lord, and never empty-handed. The firstfruits were to be for Him.
Israel did not keep the law, and greed got the opposite of what it wanted.
If Israel had held to this, they would have been greatly blessed. The six years they worked would have provided more than enough to keep them through the seventh year. All they needed was faith to believe God. But we know how selfish our own hearts are. Their crops were so abundant for six years that selfishness would say: why not get the same profit from the seventh year too? Israel would not rest and give God glory. They preferred their own works, and so lost instead of gained... Despite much experience, we are slow to learn that selfishness defeats its own ends.
Commentators read these repeated rests as a pledge of a coming age of rest that has not yet arrived.
It is striking to see the many ways the Jewish system held the millennial rest in view. Every seventh day was a sabbatical day. Every seventh year was a sabbatical year. Every seven times seven years there was a jubilee. Each of these solemn signs held before the eye of faith the blessed prospect of a time when labour and sorrow would cease.
One writer draws the point out of how a land lease worked.
As the jubilee drew near, the lease of the land dropped in value to the holder. In the same way, as the coming of Christ seems near to us, we value the earth and earthly things less.
- Owner — the fallow year was a standing reminder that the land was the Lord's and Israel only tenants on it.
- Trust — the tenant could only live through year seven by taking God at His word. That is why the same passage warns against other gods.
- Curb — resting the land struck at covetousness, one of many checks God set on greed.
- Reach — the rest reached past the farmer to the poor, and past them to the animals; both are God's creatures.
- Result — Israel kept sowing and lost what greed grasped for. The rest they refused still lies ahead: a time when labour and sorrow cease.
but in the seventh thou shalt let it rest and lie [fallow], that the poor of thy people may eat [of it]; and what they leave, the beasts of the field shall eat. In like manner thou shalt deal with thy vineyard, and with thine olive-tree.
For one year in seven, a whole farming nation had to leave its fields alone. God's reason is not the soil but people — the poor eat first, then the animals. So how was Israel to live that year?
The command only makes sense if the fields were never really Israel's to begin with.
The land was to enjoy her sabbaths, as a lasting sign that it belonged to the Lord. So the land, as well as man, had to share God's rest. Here, though, the poor and the beasts of the field stand out. God had thought for both alike, however great the distance between them, since both were His creatures. This reminded the children of Israel that they were only tenants. They held their land, their vineyards and their olive groves from the Lord. So they had to consider even the poor and the beasts of the field, because these were the objects of His care.
God did not take a share of the harvest the farmer worked for. He took the year's growth that no one worked for at all.
God did not allow them to use one seventh of their time for their own ends. He did not allow the occupier to keep one seventh of the ground's increase as his own. Jehovah had a right to do that, and this law showed strict righteousness. The farmer had full right to what his own work produced. But God claimed as His alone the growth of the land that had cost the occupier no labour. That year the barns and storehouses were not to fill up for the occupier's profit... This law was a test: it would show whether greed and disregard for others would mark the people the Lord had brought out of Egypt.
The verse names its beneficiaries in sequence — the poor, then what is left over.
The seventh day was the day of rest. The seventh year was to give the land rest. That seventh year was meant for the poor above all. Whatever grew by itself belonged to them, and what they left the beasts of the field were to eat. What a gracious provision this was! How merciful and gracious our God is!
The same word for letting the land rest appears in the law about cancelling debts.
Compare Exodus 23:11, where the same word used here for "release" is applied to the land — letting it rest. That assures us plainly: this was not an absolute cancelling of all debt. It was a temporary one during the land-rest, which might prevent payment... God would have no poor among His people. Yet there would always be some, left to test and draw out the mercy of their brothers. Their care was to make poverty cease in practice. Nor did they need to fear loss through this freedom; they would be blessed in all they put their hand to.
Obeying meant staking a whole year's food on a promise.
Nowhere but in Israel was such a provision made, because it was not man's thought but God's. What a sight it must have been! In the sabbatical year the land lay fallow everywhere. No sound of farming. The plough and harrow laid aside, no seed sown, no field watered. The sixth year's crop had been so large that it provided enough for three years. So it met the people's needs in full, and nothing was lacking for man or beast. Who could promise this? Who could keep such a promise, but One?
Commentators see these repeating sabbaths as pictures of an age of rest still to come.
It is interesting to notice the many ways the Jewish system held up the millennial rest to view. Every seventh day was a sabbath day. Every seventh year was a sabbatical year. And every seven times seven years there was a jubilee. Each of these held a blessed prospect before the eye of faith: a time when labour and sorrow would cease. Then no one would need the sweat of the brow to satisfy hunger.
The command was, in the end, ignored — and the land took its rest anyway.
So the word of God through Jeremiah came true. The land of Israel would lie desolate and enjoy the sabbaths it had not enjoyed for years. The people were greedy: they wanted crops in the seventh year as well as in the six years God had allotted them. That is why God had told them through Jeremiah that the land would stay desolate for 70 years — the length of Judah's captivity in Babylon.
- Owner. The land was the Lord's; Israel farmed it as tenants, and the fallow year was the standing reminder.
- Rent. God claimed no part of what their labour produced — only the seventh year's growth, which cost them nothing.
- Table. God gave that free growth to the poor first, and the wild animals after them.
- Trust. The sixth year's crop had to feed three years. The year ran on God's promise, not on planning.
- Refusal. Greed for a seventh crop cancelled the rest for centuries. Then exile gave the land the sabbaths its tenants had withheld.
-- Six days thou shalt do thy work, but on the seventh day thou shalt rest; that thine ox and thine ass may rest, and the son of thy handmaid, and the stranger may be refreshed.
Exodus 23 is full of everyday laws, and this one puts a limit on work that God Himself sets. What stands out is who the rest is for: the landowner, his animals, and the people in his household who own nothing.
The command names the ones with the least power to claim a day off. The same kindness runs through the laws around it, which even give the land its rest.
In Exodus 23:12 and 13 the sabbath is a time of rest not only for the people, but also for the animals that served them. It was also given so that "the son of your servant woman, and the alien, may be refreshed." The land was to enjoy its sabbaths as a constant sign that it belonged to the Lord, so that not only man, but the land itself, the poor and the beasts of the field were to share God's rest. All were the objects of God's tender compassion.
The command could sound like one more restriction on a working people. It runs the other way, and the next verse shows what obeying it would prove.
Again the law insists that they were to work for six days only and rest the seventh day — Saturday. This rest included their servants and their animals (v. 12). This was a gracious provision of God for their own benefit, not by any means a law that would oppress them. Yet obedience would show respect for God's authority, a matter insisted on in verse 13.
It seems odd for a law to order rest for farm animals. The reason lies in what the seventh day stood for.
The sabbath was a day that involved yourself, your family, your servants, even your very cattle, your ox and your donkey. The God of Israel, the Creator, cared for them all, and brought them within the kind reach of the seventh day. No wonder: the day was the sign of the rest of creation, and man, with all the animals under him, was part of creation. It might be the lower part; but still it was a part which God did not forget in His law.
Scripture also uses a man's treatment of his working animal as a test of the man.
Next comes a test: how men treat the creation that God placed under the human race. Indifference to one's animal is unworthy; cruelty is worse. So the righteous is concerned for his animal's life, while even the wicked's tender mercies are cruelty. The Lord's tender mercies are over all His works.
God gave this law to Israel alone. Yet the need behind it is physical, and every nation shares it.
God never gave the Sabbath to the nations in the same way He gave it to Israel. Among all the sins listed against the Gentile nations, we never find Sabbath-breaking. Still, it seems to be a principle of God's rule over the earth that man and beast should have one day in seven as a break from work. Both need it physically.
The weekly day pointed past itself. The rest it stood for has not arrived yet, and that decides what this present time is for.
If one has entered into rest, he has done with works, just as Scripture says of God Himself (Hebrews 4:10). But the bright day when we shall rest has not yet arrived. He therefore urges the saints to be diligent in the meantime. Now is the time for work. Everyone who has the love of Christ must feel this in such a world, for the simple reason that sin and misery cover the world. Divine love, whether in God or in His people, refuses to rest in evil or in misery. After Christ comes, it will not be so. "So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God."
So the seventh day here is a picture, not the arrival. The true rest belongs to a coming day.
The Lord is about to give a picture of all His dealings in grace with His people. Before He does so, He sets out the Sabbath as the meaningful expression of that rest which remains for the people of God. It was a real observance, to be kept by Israel; but it was also a picture of what is yet to be.
- Rest given. Six days of work end in a stop that God commands. It is a gift for the people's own good, not a law meant to oppress them.
- Rest shared. The day reaches past the owner to the servant's son, the alien, the ox and the donkey. All of them are objects of God's tender compassion.
- Rest owed to creation. The seventh day was the sign of creation's rest, so it covered the animals too. God did not forget the lower part of what He made.
- Rest as measure. How a man treats his working animal shows what he is. The righteous cares for its life; even the wicked's tender mercies are cruel.
- Rest still coming. Now is the time for work, because love cannot rest while sin and misery cover the world. The Sabbath rest that remains belongs to the day when Christ comes.
And ye shall be on your guard as to everything that I have said unto you; and shall make no mention of the name of other gods -- it shall not be heard in thy mouth.
This verse closes a long run of laws with two demands. Israel must watch everything God has said. And they must keep the names of other gods off their lips. Why would God care so much about what His people say?
The command looks back over the whole block of laws before it. One writer sums up that stretch and shows where the ban on false gods sits inside it:
No one may take advantage of the weak or those under authority. Violence cannot go unpunished, and neither can insult where we owe respect... No one may trouble or mistreat a stranger, a widow or an orphan. No one may burden the poor or insult judges. God is to be honoured with the first of the fruits, of the sons, and of the cattle. Israel must show themselves to be holy men to God... The seventh year was the land's Sabbath, just as the seventh day was for each Israelite. Each Israelite must avoid naming false gods, and keep the appointed feasts three times a year to the true God.
The same section had just ordered rest for the land, the ox and the servant. Another writer draws out what that rest taught Israel about who owned the country:
The land was to enjoy its sabbaths, as a lasting sign that it belonged to the Lord. So the land, as well as man, must share God's rest. Here, though, the poor and the animals of the field stand out... In this way the children of Israel were reminded that they were only tenants.
Leaving the fields unsown for a whole year raised an obvious question: what do we eat? One writer links the call to watchfulness to that question:
The natural reaction would be to ask, "But if we keep verse 11 and rest the land one year in seven, how are we to live in the seventh year?" The answer would have been, "For that you must trust God." This explains, we think, why the section closes by telling them to be "circumspect," or "on their guard," and not to name other gods. No false god could give them any such assurance. False gods would only destroy the assurance that made obedience possible. In fact Israel did not obey this law, as 2 Chronicles 36:21 suggests.
God does not start with bowing down or sacrificing. He draws the line much earlier, at speech. One writer explains why:
This rest was a gracious provision of God for their own benefit, not a law to oppress them. Yet obedience would show respect for God's authority, a matter insisted on in verse 13. They were not even to speak the names of idols. Such easy speaking may lead to an easy recognition of these things.
The same writer names the principle underneath every such command:
There can be no alliance between the people of God and His enemies. "Friendship with the world is enmity with God."
Israel did not keep this command. One writer sets it beside words the Psalms put in the mouth of Christ:
Here was One who could say in all the energy of His holy soul, "The lines have fallen for Me in pleasant places; indeed I have a beautiful inheritance." In the same Psalm He said: "The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply; their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out or take their names on My lips" (Ps. 16:4-6). How different all this was from Israel! God had commanded them: "make no mention of the names of other gods, nor let it be heard on your lips" (Ex. 23:13). Who for a moment would think of connecting the name of our Lord Jesus with the slightest act of disloyalty to His God and Father?
What Israel would not do for God, God promises to do for Israel. One writer quotes the promise:
Israel has been an unfaithful wife to the Lord, playing with many lovers... In her blindness she did not know who it was that truly loved her. He gave her grain, wine and oil, and dressed her with jewels. But when grace works in her heart, she will turn to Him in sorrow and repentance, so that He may receive her to His heart once more... "And in that day, declares the LORD, you will call Me 'My Husband,' and no longer will you call Me 'My Baal.' For I will remove the names of the Baals from her mouth, and they shall be remembered by name no more" (Hosea 2:14-17).
- Careful. The command reaches back over everything God had just said: justice for the poor, rest for land, animals and servants. It asks for watchfulness across all of it, not obedience we pick and choose.
- Trust. The seventh-year rest demanded faith for food. No false god could give that assurance, so naming one would only wreck the confidence that made obedience possible.
- Speech. God stops the drift at the lips, not at the altar. Easy talk about idols leads to easy recognition of them.
- Christ. Where Israel failed, One could say He would not take the names of other gods on His lips. He kept the command from the heart.
- Restored. In the end God Himself takes the names of the Baals out of His people's mouth. They call Him Husband and remember the idols no more.
Thrice in the year thou shalt celebrate a feast to me.
Three times a year Israel had to leave home and gather, and each feast belonged to God Himself. Who had to come, and what did these three seasons point to?
God calls it a feast "to me." So the gathering is His, and so is the joy in it.
The obedience spoken of here called every male of Israel to go up and remember Jehovah at these three feasts. It gathered them to the place which Jehovah their God would choose... It is Jehovah gathering the people round Himself. In the delight of His people He delights. He would have them happy in Himself, and enjoying all He had given them to enjoy. So we have these three feasts, which show especially Jehovah providing to fill the heart of His people with peace and joy to overflowing.
The verses that follow name the three. Writers see meaning in the order itself.
Leviticus 23 gives the feasts in full, and there, as here, the sabbath comes first. But this chapter names only three besides the sabbath: the feast of unleavened bread, the feast of harvest, and the feast of ingathering. These are the passover, Pentecost, and the feast of tabernacles... Unleavened bread is the first. Next comes the feast of firstfruits, a symbol of Christ in resurrection, as Leviticus shows more fully. Then comes the feast of ingathering, a picture of the harvest of souls. The resurrection of Christ was the pledge of that harvest, and Pentecost was its blessed beginning.
The last of the three falls at the close of the farming year. Writers take that timing as a pointer far ahead.
With this feast we come to "the end" of the year, after the crops are gathered in from the field. It carries our thoughts on, not only to the Millennium (the thousand years when Christ shall reign), but "The Eighth Day" (Lev. 23:36) takes us on to the eternal state.
The feast was not optional, and it was not kept at home.
It was imperative that Israel keep a feast to the Lord three times in the year. God ordered more feasts (or set times) for Israel than these (Lev. 23). But at three of them all the males in Israel had to appear before God (vv. 14-17): the feast of unleavened bread (or the Passover) in the spring, the feast of firstfruits in the summer, and the feast of ingathering in the autumn... Israel kept these feasts at Jerusalem, where God chose to place His name (Deut. 16:5-16).
The rule for the first feast forbids coming with empty hands.
"And none shall appear before me empty." Is that not striking? How am I to appear? With my hands full of Christ, the detail of which, I believe, we shall find given to us in Numbers 28, 29.
One writer draws a direct line from that rule to how Christians treat gathering together.
Nor were they to appear before the Lord empty-handed, but to bring what they were able to offer before Him. Exodus 23:14-19 gave this order before. It tells us that believers today should really care about attending Bible conferences whenever they can, with a desire to give the Lord what is fitting and right.
Going up three times a year meant leaving their land unguarded.
When Israel was in Canaan, Jehovah told them to keep three special feasts. Three times in the year they were to go up to Jerusalem for that purpose. That meant leaving their own portion and area, and it seemed to expose their land to danger while they were away. Then Jehovah assures His obedient people, saying, "Neither shall any man desire your land, when you go up to appear before Jehovah your God three times in the year."
The same writer traces what became of these appointed times.
As always happens with man under responsibility, they failed badly. They used their feasts to serve themselves, forgetting and despising Him Who appointed them. In the end they rejected the One to Whom everything pointed — Jesus, their promised King and willing Saviour. When He was presented to them, they refused Him. At last they crucified Him at the time of the very feast which should have taught them their deepest need of Him.
- Whose feast — God's own. He gathers His people around Himself and delights in their joy.
- Which three — unleavened bread, harvest, and ingathering: the passover, Pentecost, and tabernacles. The order runs from redemption, to Christ risen, to the final harvest.
- Who comes — every male, three times a year, at the place God chose. God commanded it; He did not suggest it.
- What they bring — no one appears empty; hands are to be full of what God has given.
- What it costs — obedience left the land unguarded, and God promised to guard it. When Israel used the feast to serve themselves, they ended by rejecting the One it pointed to.
Thou shalt keep the feast of unleavened bread, (thou shalt eat unleavened bread seven days, as I have commanded thee, in the time appointed of the month Abib; for in it thou camest out from Egypt; and none shall appear in my presence empty;)
Exodus 23:15 belongs to the laws God gave Israel after the ten commandments. Here He sets three yearly meeting-times with His redeemed people and names the first: a feast tied to the month of their rescue, which no one may attend empty-handed.
This verse opens a short list of feasts. The order of that list carries meaning.
The fuller list of feasts comes in Leviticus 23, and there, as here, the sabbath comes first. This chapter names only three besides the sabbath: the feast of unleavened bread, the feast of harvest, and the feast of ingathering — that is, the passover, Pentecost, and the feast of tabernacles… The sabbath takes first place, because the end and outcome of all God's ways with them (as also with believers today) is to bring them into the enjoyment of His rest.
The date is not random. The exodus happened in this month, and it reset Israel's calendar.
Israel began their journey as a redeemed, blood-bought people. They had to take that character right at the start. Abib had been the seventh month, and it was the month when the passover blood sheltered them. So of that month we read, "This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you."
Leaven stands for what has to go. Commentators name several kinds of it.
The feast of unleavened bread must follow next. It speaks of putting aside all that belongs to the flesh, in which God can find no pleasure. It may be the leaven of the Pharisees, which is religious pretence. It may be the leaven of the Sadducees, which is intellectualism and unbelief. It may be the old leaven that belongs to man after the flesh, whose end came in the cross. Or it may be the leaven of malice and wickedness, which is the fruit of the old nature (1 Cor. 5:6-8).
The seven days picture a whole lifetime. Redemption comes first, and God's claim follows.
The moment we are redeemed God claims us, and He desires us to respond to His claims by holy lives — separation from evil, and separation to Himself. The feast lasted seven days; that is, a perfect period — typically, the period of our lives. So in the Old Testament as in the New, all God's claims on His people rest on redemption. "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price."
The clause about appearing empty raises an obvious question: full of what?
"None shall appear before me empty-handed." Is that not striking? How am I to appear? With my hands full of Christ. I believe we find the detail of that in Numbers 28 and 29. You will do well to study these chapters.
The gathering had a purpose, and it stood on ground God Himself laid.
Three times in the year they were to keep a feast to the Lord, and on those occasions all their males were to appear before the Lord God. This was the central thought of the feast: the gathering of the people around Himself on the foundation which He Himself had established — the foundation, in fact, of redemption.
The demand had a sharper edge. It stood over every worshipper, and the law that made it could not meet it.
No one could appear in God's presence without something to present to God. Law always required man to present something to God. But law never provided the one sacrifice God can accept on man's behalf. The law proves man empty, without the righteousness the law required.
Full hands have two sides: what rises to God, and what reaches other people.
They were not to come empty into the Lord's presence. They were to come with the heart full of praise, and the hands full of the fruits of God's goodness, to gladden the hearts of the Lord's workmen and the Lord's poor… God would gather His people round Himself. He would fill them to overflowing with joy and praise, and make them His channels of blessing to others.
Worship runs in that order: pour out the heart first, and receive afterwards.
The Lord does not want us to appear before Him like Joseph's brothers, to fill our empty sacks. He wants us to empty our full hearts in worship before Him, and before the One who is His Father and our Father, His God and our God, while we feed on His death. Then He fills our hearts in return to the very brim — yes, overflowing with peace, joy, and praise.
- Redeemed — God brought them out in this month, so it became the first month of their year. Everything else rests on that rescue.
- Cleansed — the bread carries no leaven for seven days. Redemption brings God's claim on the whole of life.
- Exposed — the law demanded full hands and gave no sacrifice to fill them. Man had nothing of his own to bring.
- Filled — hands full of Christ, and a full heart poured out in worship, not carried in to be topped up.
- Overflowing — God gathers His people, fills them with joy and praise, and makes them channels of blessing to others.
and the feast of harvest, the first-fruits of thy labours which thou hast sown in the field, and the feast of in-gathering, at the end of the year, when thou gatherest in thy labours out of the field.
This verse names two farming feasts. Israel kept one when the grain harvest began, and one after the last crop came in from the field. Both belong to the soil, yet commentators read them as a map of God's whole plan — from the resurrection of Christ to the final gathering of His people.
Leviticus 23 gives Israel's full list of set times. This verse names two of the three great feasts, and one writer gives the names Israel later used:
The feast of the first fruits, also called the feast of weeks, because it came seven weeks after the feast of unleavened bread (Lev. 23:15-16; Deut. 16:9), and still another name is "the feast of the first fruits of the wheat harvest." It was now known by the name of Shavuoth. The third feast came on the fifteenth day of the seventh month (Lev. 23:34), and is the feast of ingathering, known as Succoth, the feast of tabernacles.
The same writer explains why these feasts follow a warning about other gods: "The feasts were designed to keep Jehovah, His power and His grace, as a living reality before the nation."
The first feast brought God "the firstfruits of your labor." One writer traces that first sheaf of grain to a Person:
Leviticus 23 describes these feasts in more detail. There the "sheaf of firstfruits," waved before the Lord, is a picture of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. He is the beginning of the true harvest. He is the "Firstborn from among the dead" — the beginning, in resurrection, of a new order of things. That new order has sprung up from the grain of wheat that fell into the ground and died.
The second feast falls at the close of the farming year, when the fields stand empty. That timing carries the reader forward:
With this feast we come to "the end" of the year. This feast carries our thoughts on to the Millennium, the thousand years when Christ will reign. And "The Eighth Day" (Lev. 23:36) takes us further still, on to the Eternal State.
One writer names the three feasts, then explains why this one comes last:
There were three great feasts of the Jews. Every grown man had to go to Jerusalem to keep them: the Passover, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles. The Passover finds its fulfilment in the cross, and Pentecost in the coming of the Holy Spirit. But the fulfilment of the Feast of Tabernacles is still missing: no event answers to it... This feast was held after the harvest and after the grape harvest. Scripture uses both events everywhere as figures of judgment. The harvest stands for the judgment that separates the good and the bad on earth. The grape harvest stands for the full extent of vengeance on enemies, when Christ will tread the winepress.
So who is gathered in? One writer reads the harvest of the field as a harvest of people:
Then comes the feast of ingathering. It is a picture of the harvest of souls. The resurrection of Christ was the pledge of that harvest, and Pentecost was its blessed start. So we read, "Christ the firstfruits, then at His coming those who belong to Christ" (1 Cor. 15:23). This scripture applies first of all to Israel. But in its wider sense, the ingathering spoken of here will include the saints of this age as well as of the millennial age.
Two of the three feasts had a different tone. Nobody came empty-handed, and nobody celebrated alone:
But in the other two feasts they were to go with an offering in their hands, and to rejoice before the Lord with their sons and their daughters, their male and female servants, the Levites, the foreigners, the fatherless, and the widows. They were to rejoice in their feast, and everyone else with them.
These feasts were meant to hold God before the nation. Israel's history went the other way:
As always happens with man under responsibility, they failed completely. They used their feasts to serve themselves, and they forgot and despised Him Who appointed them. In the end they rejected the One to Whom everything pointed — Jesus, their promised King and willing Saviour. When He was presented to them, they refused Him. At last they crucified Him at the very feast that should have taught them their deepest need of Him.
- Firstfruits — The first feast gave God the first of the crop. It points to Christ risen, the beginning of the true harvest.
- Ingathering — The second feast came at the year's end, when the fields stood bare. Israel called it Succoth, the feast of tabernacles.
- After judgment — It came after both harvest and grape harvest. Scripture uses one as a picture of separation, the other of vengeance on enemies.
- The whole crop — The ingathering takes in Israel first, then the saints of this age and of the millennium, all following Christ the firstfruits.
- Joy for all — Israel kept these feasts with joy, sharing them with servants, foreigners, the fatherless and widows. Later they used them to serve themselves.
Three times in the year all thy males shall appear in the presence of the Lord Jehovah.
Three times a year Israel's calendar stopped for a journey. Every man had to leave his fields and stand before God, in one place of God's choosing, with his home and land left behind.
The surrounding verses name the three feasts and tie them to the farming year.
It was essential that Israel keep a feast to the Lord three times in the year. God ordered more feasts (or set times) for Israel than these (Lev. 23). But three of them were the times when all the males in Israel had to appear before God (vv. 14-17): the feast of unleavened bread (or the Passover) in the spring, the feast of firstfruits in the summer, and the feast of ingathering in the autumn. Israel kept these feasts at Jerusalem, where God chose to place His name (Deut. 16:5-16).
The verse names the One they came to meet. That title appears here for the first time.
This name, used for God, appears first in Exodus 23:17. It is the singular of Adonai, and it means lord, master. It appears 300 times in the Old Testament, as Lord or Master. Far more often it refers to human masters, kings, rulers and great men than to God Himself. You can tell from the context whether the name refers to God or to a human master.
Each of the three carries meaning beyond the harvest it marked.
Though this chapter gives only three, they are very significant. The first is unleavened bread. Next comes the feast of firstfruits, which pictures Christ risen from the dead, as Leviticus shows more fully. Then comes the feast of ingathering, a picture of the harvest of souls. Christ's resurrection was the pledge of that harvest, and Pentecost was its blessed beginning. So we read, "Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ" (1 Cor. 15:23). This scripture applies first of all to Israel. But taken more widely, the ingathering spoken of here will include the saints of this age as well as those of the millennial age.
One writer sees the third feast as still waiting for what it pictures.
The feast of tabernacles has not yet had its fulfilment. The Passover and Pentecost found their fulfilment in the precious death of Christ and the coming of the Holy Spirit. But the third great feast points forward to the time when God restores all things, which He has spoken of through all His holy prophets since the world began.
The command sent every man to one appointed place. Why not keep the feast at home instead?
God would gather His beloved people around Himself, that they might feast together in His presence; that He might rejoice in them, and they in Him and in one another. All this could only be in the one special place of divine appointment. Self-will might say, "Can we not keep the feast at home with our families? What need is there of a long journey? If the heart is right, the place cannot matter much." Our answer is this: the clearest and best proof that the heart is right is a simple, earnest desire to do the will of God.
Coming was only half of it. The same passage forbids arriving with nothing.
"None shall appear before me empty-handed." Is that not striking? How should I appear? With my hands full of Christ.
Every man leaving home three times a year left the land exposed. God met that fear with a promise.
When Israel was in Canaan, the Lord commanded them to keep three special feasts. Three times a year they had to go up to Jerusalem for that purpose. That meant leaving their own portion and place, and it seemed to leave their land open to danger while they were away. It is then that the Lord assures His obedient people: "No one shall desire your land, when you go up to appear before the Lord your God three times in the year."
- Appear — three fixed times a year, every male left his own ground to stand before God in the place God chose.
- Before whom — the title used here appears first in this verse and means lord or master. They travelled to meet an Owner, not to attend an event.
- Not empty — God did not accept presence alone; each man came with something in his hands.
- Pointing forward — the three feasts picture Christ's death and His resurrection. The ingathering of souls began at Pentecost, and the restoration of all things is still to come.
- Guarded — obedience left their land exposed. God promised that no one would even desire it while they were away.
Thou shalt not offer the blood of my sacrifice with leavened bread; neither shall the fat of my feast remain all night until the morning.
This command sits inside the rules for Israel's three yearly feasts. It guards the sacrifice at both ends. Nothing corrupt may come near the blood, and nothing owed to God may wait overnight. Both halves ask one question: what may we set before God, and when?
The verse belongs to a block of instructions about the times when the nation gathered. One writer draws out both the requirement and its present-day echo.
At the time of these three feasts, God required all the males in Israel to appear in Jerusalem before Him. They were not to come before the Lord empty-handed. They were to bring what they were able to offer Him. Exodus 23:14-19 already gave this order. It tells us that believers today should care about attending Bible conferences whenever possible, wanting to give the Lord what is fitting and right.
A commentator on Exodus takes the two halves of the verse together. Leaven is shut out because the sacrifice was a picture of Christ; the fat is not to wait because it was never the offerer's to keep.
Leavened bread is again forbidden along with the blood of the sacrifice. The sacrifices pointed to Christ, and leaven is a picture of evil. So leaven would have falsified the picture they were meant to give. Christ cannot be linked with evil. That is why leaven was banned outright. The fat of the sacrifice was not to remain until the morning either... The fat, then, was God's portion. For this reason no one was to neglect it or leave it over until the morning. It had to be offered at once. God must have His part before His people had theirs. This is the secret of all blessing: give the Lord the highest place, think first of what is due to Him, and lose sight of everything else until you have given it.
Leaven is not a neutral ingredient in Scripture. It pictures something that spreads. Commentators trace the same line from Israel's feasts to the life of a Christian gathering.
There is no shadow of doubt about the symbolic force of leaven. It stands for corruption that spreads and infects, unless the context clearly gives it another sense. You see this plainly in the first and lasting picture of the Old Testament. Leaven was strictly shut out of the Passover and the feast of unleavened bread that went with it... In 1 Corinthians 5 the reference is direct, and the meaning it points to is certain. A little leaven taints the whole lump. In the same way, known sin, if tolerated, taints the Christian assembly. It is useless to plead the old nature. For was not Christ, our Passover, sacrificed? And is it not our duty now, since we are unleavened in Him, to clear out the old leaven, so that we may be a new lump?
The fat was not simply the richest meat. Why should this part in particular belong to God? The answer lies in what it stood for.
The fat and the blood were not to be eaten. The fat was the expression of the spring of life, and all that was in Christ was offered to God.
The order mattered as much as the portion. God took first what only He could truly weigh.
Notice here that the LORD had His part first. That part was the inward worth and excellence of the sacrifice. He alone knew the real worth, inward energy and affection of our Lord Jesus Christ, and He alone could measure it. This is an important point. Those who walk in fellowship with the Father seek His glory and His things first; we may be sure of that. Some people make it their rule to attend to the things of God only after their own things are done. They know little of communion, even if they know something of peace.
Giving God His portion first is not a rule for this verse alone. It runs through Scripture, and ignoring it has a cost.
All through Scripture, godliness makes one vital claim: God must have His portion first. Only then can the believer rightly take and enjoy his own. We feel how right it is to give God the first place. It is due to Him, and it holds true in everything. If we do not give it, we must suffer the bitter consequence.
- Place — The feasts brought Israel before God, and no one came empty-handed. Believers who gather today should have the same concern.
- Purity — Leaven pictures evil that spreads. It had no place beside the blood, because the sacrifice pointed to Christ, and Christ has no link with evil.
- Portion — The fat was God's part. It stood for the inward worth of the sacrifice, which He alone can value.
- Promptness — God's portion could not wait until morning. Israel offered it at once, before taking anything for themselves.
- Practice — Giving God the first place is the secret of blessing, and holding it back carries a bitter cost.
The first of the first-fruits of thy land thou shalt bring into the house of Jehovah thy God. Thou shalt not boil a kid in its mother's milk.
Two commands sit side by side here and look unrelated. Why does a law about the best of the harvest end with a rule about cooking a young goat in its mother's milk?
The offering of firstfruits was a confession, not a payment. People who once had nothing came to acknowledge who gave them the land.
It was a standing ordinance in the land. The spirit of the offering is also clear: a full profession before God that they now had the things He had promised to their fathers. Their father had been a Syrian ready to perish, and a slave in Egypt. Redemption had brought them out of there and into the good land, which they now enjoyed in full. So they came up to own the Giver by offering Him the firstfruits. They worshipped and rejoiced in every good thing the LORD had given them, and this in grace, with the Levite and the stranger.
The closing sentence is not a stray fragment. One writer reads the pairing as deliberate: God's rights come first, then care for the lowliest creature.
One may wonder why it comes in here, and why it is repeated in Deuteronomy 14:21. Perhaps it is to show us this. God demands careful honour for His rights and the rights of His house. Yet He also wills that we act fittingly even toward the lowliest of His creatures. The goat gives her milk, as God ordained, to sustain the life of her kid. It is not fitting, therefore, to use what God has ordained for life as an instrument connected with its death. Let us all ponder whether the principle here may have some spiritual application for us today.
Repetition in the law is a signal. So what is this short command teaching?
This command comes three times, in various connections. That is enough to mark it as one of special interest and practical importance. The question is, what does it mean? What are we to learn from it? We believe it teaches plainly that the Lord's people must avoid everything contrary to nature. It was clearly contrary to nature to boil a creature in what was meant to feed it.
The same writer turns this into a rule for Christian living.
The Creator planted certain feelings and instincts in nature, and we must never violate them. We may set this down as a fixed principle, an axiom in Christian ethics. No action can be of God if it does violence to the feelings proper to nature. The Spirit of God may, and often does, lead us beyond and above nature, but never against it.
God also shapes how His people feel, even toward an animal that is already dead.
The LORD cultivates what is fitting in His people... But He also wants tender feeling, even where a speechless or dead animal is concerned. He showed this when He forbade boiling a kid in its mother's milk. All Scripture is against the coarse brutality that was normal among the nations who did not know the true God.
Another writer traces the ban back to idol worship.
As to boiling a kid in its mother's milk, I understand this. One mark of idolatry, of Satan's power, is to destroy the order, affections and fitting ways God has established in nature. Christianity raises above nature, but respects it all. Satan degrades in every way by what is unnatural... This was an example concerning tender and kindly affections... All this the law forbade.
Commentators differ over how far to press a symbolic lesson. One is cautious. He reads the command plainly, as protection for natural instinct, and thinks parallels suit private study better than public teaching.
Another goes further. He reads the milk as a picture of God's Word.
God's rights come first. Then our attitude toward others follows at once, in the command not to boil a kid in its mother's milk... Mother's milk is intended to nourish the kid, not to boil it. So we should use the milk of the Word of God (1 Peter 2:2) to nourish young believers, not to boil or punish them. Let us be careful to use God's Word rightly, in kind concern for others, not as a whip for them.
- First — The firstfruits are a confession, not a payment. A people once perishing and enslaved come back to own the Giver, and rejoice in His gifts with the Levite and the stranger.
- Then fitting — Once God has His rightful place, the verse turns to what is fitting toward the lowliest creature. The two halves are one lesson, not two.
- Never against — God's Spirit may lead us above nature, but never against it. What God gave for life must not serve death.
- Unlike the nations — Idolatry attacks the order and affections God built into nature. This small law trains His people the other way, away from coarse brutality.
- Applied — Commentators differ on how far to press the picture. Still, one warning stands out: the milk of God's Word feeds young believers; it is never a whip.
Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee to the place that I have prepared.
The long list of laws given at Sinai ends with a promise. God will send someone ahead of Israel to guard them on the road and bring them to the land He has already made ready. Two questions follow: who is this messenger, and why does so much hang on obeying Him?
The promise comes right after pages of commands, and it is a gift, not a demand.
The goodness of God is seen again in His promise in verse 20. He would send an angel before them, both to guard them and to guide them to the place He had appointed for them, the land of promise. For the Lord does not leave us to make our own way to heaven as best we can!
The next verse gives the key to His identity: God's name is in Him.
Who then was this angel? It is clear, both from this scripture and chapter 14, as well as from others, that divine attributes are given to Him. It says here, for example, "My name is in Him."... That He is divine is therefore clear. So it is fair to conclude — as godly students of the Word in every age have concluded — that in this angel we have none other than the Second Person of the Trinity, God the Son, Jehovah. And in His many appearances we may see foreshadowings of His incarnation. It is He who has always been the leader of His people.
The same pattern shows up wherever God appears in this way — as a messenger who is still God Himself.
God goes before them by angelic power, by what He calls (v. 23) "my Angel." That is, it was God Himself stepping in, only in the form of angelic power... So where God, as I AM, showed Himself in a flame of fire in the bush, He is called "the Angel" in the bush. At Peniel (that is, the face of God) Jacob declares that he had seen God face to face and lived. Of the same event Hosea says "he had power over the angel and prevailed."
Later Scripture returns to this figure under other names. Each name points the same way.
Also we read of the Angel of the Lord who went before them, whom Isaiah calls "the Angel of His presence." In Malachi 3:1, the expression "Messenger of the covenant" is really "Angel of the covenant." That is a clear prediction of the coming of the Lord Jesus. So in this title too we may see a reference to Him.
The warning that follows the promise sounds severe: this Angel would not pardon Israel's transgressions. The reason lies in the arrangement Israel had just accepted.
He was holy. His people had put themselves under law, so He could not pardon their transgressions. "My name" — the expression of all that God was in His relationship with Israel — "is in Him." So He would act in righteousness, on the basis of the law God had given as the standard of their conduct.
The land was theirs by promise, but life in it depended on obeying this Guide.
But the unchanging favour of God does not lessen our responsibility... "But if you carefully obey his voice [that of the angel whom He sent] and do all that I say, then I will be an enemy to your enemies and an adversary to your adversaries." Israel's prosperity was therefore conditional — it depended on their obedience. The promised possession was theirs by divine sovereignty. Their prosperity depended on their behaviour. And so it is with the Christian.
Israel soon failed, and God's answer to Moses reached back to the promise made here.
The Lord's answer still assured Moses that He would act in forbearance toward the erring people. He would lead them on by His Angel, as He had promised earlier in chapter 23:20-23. Yet His governmental judgment would still come upon them.
- Sent — God does not point out the road and leave His people to walk it alone; He sends One ahead to guard and to guide.
- Divine — "My name is in Him" marks this Angel out as God the Son, the same Person seen in the burning bush and at Peniel.
- Named — Angel of His presence, Messenger of the covenant. Both titles point forward to the Lord Jesus.
- Holy — Israel had put themselves under law, so this Guide could not pardon their transgressions.
- Faithful — obedience decided their prosperity. When Israel failed, God still led them on by the Angel promised here.
Be careful in his presence, and hearken unto his voice do not provoke him, for he will not forgive your transgressions; for my name is in him.
The last words of the covenant at Sinai are not a law but a promise of a guide — and a warning about how Israel must treat Him. Everything turns on one clause: God's own name is in Him.
The warning makes no sense if the one sent is only a servant. One writer answers by listing what this messenger does, and where He has appeared before.
Who is this angel? He is called in chapter 33:15 "the face of Jehovah" (literal translation). The name of God is in Him; God revealed Himself in Him. His voice must be obeyed. He has power to pardon transgressions or not to pardon them. This angel is not a created being. He is the same one who appeared in the burning bush. He is the same one Jacob spoke of when he said, "The angel, the Redeemer." It is Jehovah Himself, the Son of God. The ancient synagogue paraphrased this person by using the expression "Memra," which means "the Word." They believed and taught that "the Word" brought Israel out of Egypt; "the Word" led them in the pillar of cloud; "the Word" confounded the Egyptian army. And they paraphrased "the angel" by "the Word."
A name in Scripture is not a label. It tells you what a person is. That is why this phrase settles who the Angel is.
This title may be understood by a scripture in Exodus: "Behold, I send an Angel before you to keep you in the way … my name is in Him." That proves He was a divine Person. In the Word, a name is always the expression of the truth of what the Person is.
The refusal to pardon sounds harsh. But remember where Israel had just placed itself. The nation had come under law, and God dealt with it on that ground.
They were to beware of Him, obey His voice, and not provoke Him. He was holy. His people had placed themselves under law, so He could not pardon their transgressions. "My name" is the expression of all that God was in His relationship with Israel. That name "is in Him," and so He would act in righteousness, on the basis of the law God had given as the standard of their conduct. On the other hand, He made obedience the condition of fully identifying Himself with their cause.
Two things run side by side here. God promised the land outright. Enjoying it was another matter.
But the unchangeable favour of God does not lessen our responsibility. When the seed of Abraham grew into a nation, Jehovah spoke to that nation about His promise to Abraham. He then pressed their responsibility on them like this — "If you will indeed obey his voice [that of the angel whom He sent], and do all that I speak, then I will be an enemy to your enemies and an adversary to your adversaries." Israel's prosperity was therefore conditional — it depended on their obedience. The promised possession was theirs by divine sovereignty. Their prosperity depended on their behaviour. And so it is with the Christian.
The command to obey a voice that carries God's name reaches forward. When God's Son came, the claim went beyond the message He brought.
People were to receive a prophet because he spoke in the name of Jehovah who sent him (Deut. 18:18-19). But now men had to believe in the name of the Speaker Himself — the Only-begotten Son. Israel had to believe the message of the prophet, but not on his name. But now the people were called to believe on the Son, for Jehovah's "name is in Him" (Ex. 23:21).
Israel had the promise of an angel going before them. One writer sets what belongs to the church beside that.
In her path the church has to do with no mere angel or representative of God. It is a blessing to have such a pledge of God's faithfulness and power. Yet the church has to do with Him who has the fullness of divine power and divine supremacy over all rule or lesser authority — "Him who has the seven Spirits of God and the seven stars."
- The Guide. God does not leave His people to find their own way. He sends One before them to keep them in the way.
- The Name. A name in Scripture expresses what a person truly is, so "my name is in him" marks this Guide out as divine.
- The Warning. Because the name is in Him, He acts in righteousness. A people standing on law could expect no pardon for breaking it.
- The Condition. The land was theirs by God's gift, but their prosperity in it hung on obeying that voice.
- The Son. The voice carrying God's name speaks at last in Christ. Now people must not only believe a message; they must believe on Him.
But if thou shalt diligently hearken unto his voice, and do all that I shall say, then I will be an enemy to thine enemies, and an adversary to thine adversaries.
God has just promised to send an Angel ahead of Israel. Here He adds a promise: obey that voice, and God Himself will stand against Israel's enemies. Two questions follow. Who is this Angel? And why does such a large promise start with "if"?
The "his voice" of this verse points back to the messenger God had just promised to send. Commentators agree that this is no ordinary angel. His titles show why.
Who is this angel? Exodus 33:15 calls Him "the face of Jehovah" (a literal translation). The name of God is in Him; God revealed Himself in Him. His voice must be obeyed. He has power to pardon transgressions or not to pardon them. This angel is not a created being. He is the same one who appeared in the burning bush. He is the same one Jacob spoke of as the angel who redeemed him. It is Jehovah Himself, the Son of God.
The same Person appears at each stage of Israel's story, fitting Himself to what His people need at the time.
Notice the wonderful grace with which this representative of Jehovah fits Himself to the circumstances of His people. This is the Angel of Jehovah whom the Old Testament speaks of so often — Jehovah Himself under this mysterious character. God says of Him, "My name is in him" (Ex. 23:21). As others have observed, He stands with Israel as their Deliverer at the Red Sea, as the Companion of their travels in the desert, and as Lord of Hosts in Canaan. Later, once the kingdom stands, He dwells in peace among them.
The "if" belongs to the arrangement Israel had taken on: they had promised to keep the law. Obedience still shields God's people today.
Israel receives a warning: provoking the angel would be no small thing. They must have a spirit of submission and obedience, for they could not expect any pardon for their transgressions. This is of course the language of law, for they had promised to keep the law. If they did obey, then the Lord would be an enemy to their enemies and an adversary to their adversaries. Satan will not gain any advantage over us while we obey the Word of the Lord.
God promised to make Israel's cause completely His own. His holiness set the terms.
They were to beware of Him, obey His voice, and not provoke Him. He was holy, and since His people had placed themselves under law, He could not pardon their transgressions. "My name" — the expression of all that God was in His relationship with Israel — "is in Him." So He would act in righteousness, on the basis of the law God had given as the standard of their conduct. On the other hand, obedience was the condition of His complete identification with their cause. Their enemies would in that case be His enemies, and He would cut them off.
This promise belongs to a covenant. So the Angel who secures the blessing can also punish. Israel met Him in that role later.
This was the angel of that conditional covenant which was now established. On the one hand He would make good all God's promises to the people. On the other, He would punish their sins against God. So we later see Him appearing at Bochim, to punish them there for breaking this covenant (Judges 2:1).
God had promised the land to Abraham long before. This verse settles something else: not whether His favour holds, but how well Israel would do.
But the unchanging favour of God does not cut short our responsibility. When the seed of Abraham rose into a nation, Jehovah addressed that nation about His promise to Abraham, and He then pressed on His people their responsibility. The promised possession was theirs by divine sovereignty; their prosperity was conditional on their behaviour; and so it is with the Christian.
Two things hold together here: what God secures and what we must do.
There is no clashing between the sovereignty of God in blessing His people and their responsibility to obey His word. By grace God has made every spiritual blessing secure in Christ for all His people. Even so, every man still reaps what he sows.
- The Voice — the One speaking is not a created messenger. He is Jehovah Himself, the Son of God, bearing God's name and the power to pardon or refuse pardon.
- The Condition — "if you carefully obey" is the language of law. Israel had promised to keep it.
- The Alliance — obedience was the condition of God taking their side completely. Their enemies then became His.
- The Warning — the same Angel who secures the promises also punishes covenant-breaking. Israel found this out at Bochim.
- The Balance — the land was theirs by God's sovereign gift. How well they did in it rested on their behaviour. Grace secures the blessing, and still every man reaps what he sows.
For mine Angel shall go before thee, and bring thee in unto the Amorites and the Hittites and the Perizzites and the Canaanites, the Hivites and the Jebusites; and I will cut them off.
God promises to send His angel ahead of Israel, into a land already held by six nations, and to blot those nations out. Who is this angel, and why does the promise turn on Israel's obedience?
The promise of an angel sounds like the loan of a servant. But the words used of Him go far past any created being. One writer traces the evidence:
An angel was to go before them for guidance and safe conduct. He is often referred to in this connection (Ex. 14:19; Ex. 33:2; Num. 20:16, etc.). The prophet Isaiah calls Him the angel of His (Jehovah's) presence. Who then was this angel? This scripture, chapter 14, and others show that He has divine attributes. Here, for example, God says, "My name is in Him." In Exodus 14, the text first calls Him an angel, then identifies Him with Jehovah. So it is clear that He is divine. Godly students of the Word in every age have drawn the fair conclusion: in this angel we have no other than the Second Person of the Trinity, God the Son, Jehovah.
Another writer points to what only God can do:
The same great Person must be meant in Exodus 23:20: "Behold, I send an angel before you." No one but a Divine Person can "pardon transgressions," or have God's name in Him.
The Angel does two things in this verse. He goes ahead, and He brings them in.
The goodness of God is again seen in His promise in verse 20. He would send an angel before them, both to guard them and to guide them to the place He had ordained for them, the land of promise. For the Lord does not leave us to make our own way to heaven as best we can!
The list of names is not filler. Writers trace what each name means, and find a picture of the evils that keep God's people from their inheritance.
The names here, as everywhere, are surely significant. They stand for the powers of evil that get there first. They would stop us enjoying our God-given inheritance in Christ. The Hittite, "child of terror" — how spiritual dread makes cowards of us all! The Amorite, "the talker," rather than the doer of the Word. The Canaanite, "the trafficker," companion to the talker, who turns the very truth of God into merchandise. The Perizzite, "the countryman," perhaps suggests great power, nobility, false pride. The Hivite, "the villager," suggests the opposite, a false humility. The Jebusite, "the treader down," never rests until it has trampled every divine thing underfoot. All these are to be cast out. Any alliance with them is to be utterly refused.
Another writer applies the list to believers today:
Satan will not gain any advantage over us while we obey the Word of the Lord. The six nations mentioned in verse 23 stand for different forms of spiritual evil. They seek to draw the saints of God away from a path of true obedience to the Lord. If obedient, Israel could expect God's angel to cut off their enemies.
Verse 23 follows a warning. Israel had put itself under law, and the Angel would deal with them on that basis.
They were to beware of Him, obey His voice, and not provoke Him. He was holy, and since His people had placed themselves under law, He could not pardon their transgressions. "My name" — the expression of all that God was in His relationship with Israel — "is in Him." So He would act in righteousness, on the basis of the law God had given as the standard of their conduct. On the other hand, obedience was the condition of His full identification with their cause. Their enemies would in that case be His enemies, and He would cut them off.
Two things stand apart here — what God gives, and how His people fare in it:
The promised possession was theirs by divine sovereignty. Their prosperity depended on their behaviour. And so it is with the Christian.
What God promises to blot out, His people must not shelter:
There must be no covenant with the people of the land or their gods; nor should they let them live in the land. If they did, those nations would surely make them sin against the Lord. There can be no alliance between the people of God and His enemies. "The friendship of the world is enmity with God."
- The Guide — the Angel carries God's own name and divine attributes. Commentators identify Him as God the Son, leading His people in person.
- The Guarantee — He goes before, and He brings them in. God does not name a destination and leave His people to reach it alone.
- The Ground — the six peoples picture fear, empty talk, trading on holy things, pride, false humility, and contempt for what is God's.
- The Condition — under law, obedience made their cause His cause. God gave them the land; how they fared in it hung on their conduct.
- The Refusal — God pledged to blot these nations out, so Israel could make no treaty with them. Friendship with what God judges ends in sin.
Thou shalt not bow down to their gods, nor serve them, nor do after their deeds; but thou shalt utterly destroy them, and utterly shatter their statues.
God had just promised to send His Angel ahead of Israel into the land of Canaan. This verse sets the terms for living there — and it raises a hard question: why does God demand destruction rather than tolerance?
The command sits inside a promise. Obedience was the condition, and the peoples named just before stand for more than tribes on a map:
If they did obey, then the Lord would be an enemy to their enemies and an adversary to their adversaries. Satan will not gain any advantage over us while we obey the Word of the Lord. The six nations mentioned in verse 23 stand for different forms of spiritual evil that seek to lure the people of God away from a path of true obedience.
The verse forbids three things and commands one:
Israel was to give no recognition at all to the idols of these nations. They were not to compromise by following their example in anything (v. 24). Instead they were to reject and break down the pillars these nations considered sacred. This was essential if they were to really serve the Lord, and He would bless them in their daily life.
To modern ears, ordering the destruction of another people's religious objects sounds harsh. One writer meets that objection head-on rather than softening it:
The land was the Lord's. They were to hold it as tenants under Him. So their very first duty on taking possession was to demolish every trace of the old idolatry. This was absolutely necessary. By human reasoning, this might seem very intolerant towards other people's religion. We reply without any hesitation: yes, it was intolerant. How could the one only true and living God be anything but intolerant of all false gods and false worship? Suppose for a moment that He could permit the worship of idols in His land. That would mean He could deny Himself, and that is blasphemy. Do not misunderstand us: God does bear with the world in His patient mercy.
This command does not stand alone. Serving the Lord goes with it, and the two together open the door to the blessings that follow:
Two things come with this, and all their blessing would depend on them — separation from evil, and serving the Lord their God (vv. 24, 25). These conditions of blessing are unalterable. They are as true now as they were with Israel. The Thessalonians had turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God (1 Thess. 1:9). Where God is truly in question, there can be no partnership with evil. He claims all that we are and have, and when we recognise this claim, He can bless us according to the desires of His own heart.
Few readers today live near carved pillars. One writer looks past the outward form to the principle behind it:
Idolatry takes various shapes. So it is not a question of the shape of the thing, but of the thing itself; not the outward form, but the root or principle of it. We read that "covetousness is idolatry," and that a covetous man is an idolater. That is, a man who wants more than God has given him is an idolater — guilty of the very sin of Israel when they made the golden calf and worshipped it. … What do those closing words of the first letter of John mean, "Little children, keep yourselves from idols"? Do they not tell us that we are in danger of worshipping idols? Certainly they do. Our treacherous hearts are capable of departing from the living God and setting up some other object beside Him. Whatever commands the heart is the heart's idol — money, pleasure, power or anything else.
Israel's later history shows what happens when the pillars stay standing:
Judges 2 shows something of why Israel failed to take possession of the inheritance. The Angel of the Lord came up from Gilgal to Bochim and convicted them of disobedience to the word of the Lord. This was the real cause of their troubles. God had said to Israel, "You shall make no covenant with the inhabitants of this land; you shall break down their altars." Because of their disobedience, the Angel of the Lord said, "I will not drive them out before you, but they shall become thorns in your sides, and their gods shall be a snare to you."
- Promise first. The command follows God's pledge to go before Israel. If they obeyed, He would be an enemy to their enemies.
- Three refusals, one action. No worship, no service, no imitation — and then the pillars come down. Avoiding idols was not enough. Israel had to break them down.
- Intolerance defended. The land belonged to God, so allowing rival worship in it would mean God denying Himself.
- Separation plus service. Turning from idols and serving the living God go together. That pairing is the unchanging condition of blessing.
- The snare. What Israel spared became a snare. Idolatry is not about the shape of the object but about whatever commands the heart, so the warning still stands.
And ye shall serve Jehovah your God; and he shall bless thy bread and thy water; and I will take sickness away from thy midst.
This verse closes the covenant terms God gave Israel, right after the command to destroy the idols of the land. It ties food, drink and health to one thing — serving the LORD — and that raises a question for readers now: does the promise still hold?
The land was a gift. What happened once Israel lived in it was another matter:
God's own choice gave them the promised land. Their prosperity depended on how they behaved. It is the same for the Christian.
The verse does not stand alone. It follows the command to tear down the idols of the land, and the pairing is deliberate:
God adds two things here, and all their blessing would depend on them — separation from evil, and serving the Lord their God (verses 24, 25). These conditions of blessing are unalterable. They are as true now as they were with Israel. The Thessalonians are described in the same way: they turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God (1 Thess. 1:9). Where God is really the issue, there can be no partnership with evil. He claims all that we are and have, and when this claim is recognised, He can bless us according to the desires of His own heart. So here the blessings follow. They are earthly blessings, because Israel was an earthly people, but blessings of that kind without limit.
Service was not a new demand sprung on Israel at Sinai. It had been the stated purpose of the whole rescue from Egypt:
When He sent Moses to deliver Israel from Egypt, God said to him, "You shall serve God on this mountain" (Ex. 3:12). Again and again during the dispute with Pharaoh the word was, "Let My people go, that they may serve Me." And when the people were at Sinai, the word was, "You shall serve the LORD your God" (Ex. 23:25). The law was given so that the people might know God's will for them, and serve by obeying it.
Knowing God's will is not the same as having the heart to do it. The same writer marks what the law could not supply:
The law did give them a certain standing as the acknowledged people of God. But it could not produce within them the state that would dispose them to obey... So, if we are to serve God, we need two things: an assured standing before Him, and a spiritual state that enables us to do His will.
The blessing named is ordinary — food, drink, and a body free of disease:
They were to be most careful not to touch their idolatries but to destroy them completely. Then they would be blessed with health and plenty; that is, with fullness of earthly good.
Does the promise carry over to believers now?
God gave these conditional promises to Israel under law, not to the church of God today. Our blessings are spiritual, and connected with heavenly places (Eph. 1:3). Godly people today may suffer illness and other afflictions. Epaphroditus was "ill, near to death" — not for disobedience, but for the sake of the work of Christ (Phil. 2:25-30).
Israel never kept their side of it. The sickness was still taken away, but by another route:
God promised Israel that if they obeyed, He would take all sickness away from them, and would put on them none of the evil diseases of Egypt that they had known (Deut. 7:15). When the Lord was on earth He healed every sickness and every disease among the people (Matt. 9:35). On the ground of obedience they failed to gain freedom from diseases, but their Messiah healed them all in grace.
One writer sees both halves of the verse — the food and the healing — met in a single day of the Lord's ministry:
In the evening the Lord satisfied the hungry mouths of the people with good things; and in the morning He healed all their diseases. In this way He fulfilled, in part, that ancient promise of the LORD to Israel: "You shall serve the LORD your God, and he will bless your bread and your water, and I will take sickness away from among you."
- Given, then conditional — the land came to Israel as God's gift; their prosperity in it hung on obedience.
- Serve, first by parting — blessing rested on two things: turning from the idols of the land, and serving the LORD.
- Serve, as the point of redemption — God brought His people out of Egypt for this — that they might serve Him.
- Serve, but not by law alone — the law told them God's will yet could not create the inward state that obeys.
- Served in grace instead — what obedience failed to win, Israel's Messiah gave in grace — food for the hungry, healing for the sick.
There shall nothing cast their young, nor be barren, in thy land; the number of thy days will I fulfil.
This promise closes a short list of blessings tied to serving the Lord. It raises two questions: was it ever true of Israel, and does it belong to believers today?
The promise does not stand alone. It follows two demands God made on the people just before it.
Two things go with this promise, and all their blessing would depend on them — separation from evil, and serving the Lord their God (vv. 24, 25). These conditions of blessing are unalterable. They are as true now as they were with Israel. Scripture describes the Thessalonians in the same way: they turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God (1 Thess. 1:9). Where God is truly in question, there can be no partnership with evil. He claims all that we are and all that we have. When we own that claim, He can bless us according to the desires of His own heart. So the blessings follow here. They are earthly blessings, because Israel was an earthly people, but blessings of that kind without limit.
Two things must be kept apart here: what God gave by His own choice, and what depended on how Israel lived.
God gave them the promised possession by His own sovereign choice. Their prosperity depended on how they behaved. And it is the same for the Christian.
The blessing lands on the most ordinary parts of life — health in the body, and children in the home.
Breaking with the idols of these nations was essential if they were really to serve the Lord. Then He would bless them in their daily life, and keep them from sickness too. Their women would not suffer miscarriages, nor be barren (v. 26).
One writer traces both the loss and what God will yet do.
Even under the law this would have been so, had the people been obedient. They would have escaped the diseases of Egypt, and prolonged their days in the land (see Exodus 15:26; Deut. 4:10; Deut. 5:16, 33; Deut. 6:2; Deut. 11:9, etc.); but they forfeited it all by their disobedience and sin. But in the future God will bring His people into all, and more than all, the blessings He promised long ago on the condition of keeping the law.
Another writer notes how wide the promise was, and where it will finally be kept.
He would bless them above all other nations, with not one male or female barren, whether among the people or their livestock. This would have been wonderful indeed, though we know it did not take place. In the millennium it will be so, because God's covenant with the fathers cannot fail, and the grace of God will do what law never could.
Only in that thousand-year reign will people live out the full number of their days.
Man will then fill his days, which he has never yet done — not even before the flood — no, not even Methuselah himself. Not one so far has stretched across ten centuries. This will be the rule for the righteous who are found alive on earth when the Lord reigns for the thousand years. Death will be the exception and not the rule. A person who dies at a hundred years old will be only a youth.
One writer warns against moving promises like this out of their setting.
All this is wonderfully true. But it gives no ground at all for transferring the promises made to Israel to New Testament believers. God has bound Himself by an oath to bless the descendants of Abraham His friend — to bless them with all earthly blessings, in the land of Canaan. That promise still stands, and it cannot be taken from them. We must always remember that Israel's blessings are earthly. The church's blessings are heavenly. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places."
Some turn promises like this into a rule that a believer should never be ill. One writer answers that plainly.
In this present age of grace, God does not promise us freedom from physical disease in return for obedience. But obedience will keep us from spiritual diseases, and give us spiritual health and strength.
- Condition. The promise hangs on the two demands just before it — turn from the idols of the land, and serve the Lord.
- Content. It covers ordinary life: health, children safely born, and a full span of years.
- Collapse. Israel never collected it; disobedience forfeited what obedience would have secured.
- Covenant. The promise itself did not fail. God's covenant with the fathers cannot fail. Grace will pay what law never could, in a day when a man who dies at a hundred is still only a youth.
- Caution. These are earthly blessings for an earthly people. Believers today have every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places. Obedience now guards spiritual health; it does not guarantee physical health.
I will send my fear before thee, and confound every people to which thou comest, and will make all thine enemies turn their back to thee.
God names His first weapon in the fight for Canaan, and it is not a sword. It is a terror He sends ahead of His people. So who wins Israel's battles, and on what terms does God fight them?
God works on enemy hearts while Israel is still marching:
As Israel advanced toward their land, God would stamp the fear of Himself on the hearts of their enemies, and make them retreat in confusion (v. 27).
Enemies did not slow God down. They put His grace on display:
Are there enemies? They only show more clearly the almighty grace of God acting for His people... Finally, all the nations flee before Israel, pursued by hornets, without the help of sword or bow.
A warning comes with the promise. God's help had terms:
They were to beware of the Angel, obey His voice, and not provoke Him. He was holy, and since His people had placed themselves under law, He could not pardon their sins. God's name — everything God was in His relationship with Israel — was in Him. So He would act in righteousness, on the basis of the law given as the standard of their conduct. On the other hand, obedience was the condition of His complete identification with their cause. Their enemies would in that case be His enemies, and He would cut them off.
God's gift did not depend on Israel. Their prosperity in the land did:
But God's unchanging favour does not lessen our responsibility. When Abraham's descendants grew into a nation, the LORD spoke to that nation about His promise to Abraham. He then pressed their responsibility on them: "if you carefully obey his voice [the voice of the angel whom He sent] and do all that I say, then I will be an enemy to your enemies and an adversary to your adversaries." (Read Ex. 23:20-33.) Israel's prosperity was therefore conditional — it depended on their obedience. The promised land was theirs by God's sovereign choice. Their prosperity depended on their behaviour. And so it is with the Christian... There is no clash between God's sovereignty in blessing His people and their responsibility to obey His word.
Forty years later, spies slipped into Jericho and came back with a report:
What had they discovered? Nothing that faith could not already have grasped. "I will send my terror before you and will throw into confusion all the people against whom you shall come, and I will make all your enemies turn their backs to you" (Ex. 23:27 etc.). The spies only verified the word of promise spoken forty years before. They report that "all the inhabitants of the land melt away because of us." God had said that He would make their enemies turn their backs to them. But Israel never expected that at their shout He would throw down the walls.
The dread began with news of what God had already done. A woman inside Jericho, Rahab, traced it back to the Red Sea:
This woman mentions the crossing of the Red Sea, which happened forty years before. It filled the Canaanite nations with terror, so that the way into the land was open from the first.
The same terror fell on the whole city. It did not produce the same result in everyone:
Many shared her fears. But who shared the faith of Rahab? The fighting men of the city were just as afraid. But in her case, as often in ours, God's Spirit worked where at first there was simply dread. God followed this up, replacing it with living faith in Himself and in His love for His people.
- Fear goes first. God's first move in the war is a terror He sends ahead of His people. Enemies scatter before Israel draws a sword.
- Fear rests on God's past acts. The dread came from reports of what God had already done. The Red Sea rescue, forty years earlier, had opened the way into the land before Israel arrived.
- Fear comes with a condition. The land was theirs by God's sovereign gift. Enjoying it depended on obeying the voice of the Angel He sent ahead. Commentators draw the same line for Christians today.
- Fear ran past the promise. The spies found nothing faith could not have known already. God then went past His own word: the walls fell at a shout.
- Fear alone saves no one. Jericho's soldiers felt the same terror as Rahab; only in her did God's Spirit turn dread into living faith in Him.
And I will send hornets before thee, which shall drive out the Hivite, the Canaanite, and the Hittite, from before thee.
The promise here is a strange one: the Lord will clear the land ahead of Israel not by armies but by hornets. So how does God win victories for His people? And why does He, not Israel's sword, drive out the Hivites, the Canaanites and the Hittites?
The word behind "hornets" names a real insect, and the promise appears three times in Scripture.
The insect tsirah is of the wasp kind. God promised to send these insects before the Israelites to drive out the inhabitants of the land of Canaan. Ex. 23:28; Deut. 7:20; Joshua 24:12. Travellers report that when someone disturbs a nest of these insects, animals and people flee in terror. The stings are very painful, and they sometimes cause death.
Commentators differ. Some read real insects here; others read a picture of God-sent panic. Either way, the weapon is tiny.
A hornet is a small, insignificant insect, but the weapons of an army cannot withstand an attack of hornets. The soldiers would not stand and fight Israel while pursued by hornets! Whether this is fully literal or not, it still teaches us that God can use the smallest means to put His enemies to flight.
The hornet comes right after God's promise to send fear ahead of Israel. The two belong together.
As Israel advanced toward their land, God would stamp the fear of Him on the hearts of their enemies, so that they would retreat in confusion (v. 27). As a picture of this, God would send hornets ahead of them — small, insignificant things that still throw people into panic.
The words come back once Israel is in the land, and the verdict on every battle is the same.
Did the men of Jericho, or the armies of the seven nations — each greater and stronger than Israel — come against them? The Lord says, "I gave them into your hand." Did Israel attack first? Then they did not win by sword or bow, but because "I sent the hornet before you, which drove them out before you." In war, defending or attacking, under attack or on the attack, the Lord won the victory always, and He alone.
The three names in the verse carry meaning. Writers have read them as pictures of what stands between believers and their inheritance.
The names here, as everywhere, surely carry meaning. They stand for those powers of evil which hold the ground and would keep us from enjoying our God-given inheritance in Christ. The Hittite, "child of terror" — how spiritual dread makes cowards of us all! … The Canaanite, "the trafficker," companion to the talker, who turns the very truth of God into merchandise. … The Hivite, "the villager," suggesting a false humility. All of them must be cast out. We must refuse any alliance with them. We are to hate their religion and their ways. We are not to fear them because they are great; we are to overthrow them without letting up.
God did not empty the land all at once. Writers see the same wisdom in how He works in His people.
But in all this God would act so as not to create an empty space. He would drive out these nations "little by little," as the Israelites grew in number and were able to fill up the land. You can see the wisdom of this. God works the same way with our souls. We have to grow in grace, and as we grow we enter into the full blessing that is ours in Christ. The old things lose their place in our hearts and lives.
The promise came with an "if." What God gives and what Israel keeps are two different things.
God's unchanging favour does not lessen our responsibility. … The promised land was theirs because God had sovereignly given it. But whether they prospered depended on how they lived. It is the same for the Christian.
History proved the point.
This promise was lost. Israel never saw it fulfilled, apart from a brief time under David and Solomon, because of their unfaithfulness.
- Small. God's chosen weapon is an insect. He can use "the smallest means" to put His enemies to flight. Size settles nothing.
- Sent. The hornet goes before Israel. Fear reaches the enemy ahead of the battle, and they retreat in confusion.
- His. Israel did not win by sword or bow. Every victory, attacking or defending, traces back to the Lord.
- Slow. He clears the ground little by little, leaving no empty space. Believers grow into their blessings the same way.
- Kept. The land was theirs by God's gift, but enjoying it depended on obedience. Israel's lost borders show the cost of unfaithfulness.
I will not drive them out from before thee in one year lest the land become desolate, and the beast of the field multiply against thee.
God tells Israel the land is theirs, yet He refuses to hand it over in a single season. He gives a practical reason: an emptied land would turn wild. That raises a bigger question. Why does God so often give His people less at once than they expected?
There is a reason God moved slowly.
But in all this God would so act as not to create a vacuum. He would drive out these nations "by little and little," just as the Israelites increased in number and were able to fill up the land. One can see the wisdom of this, and also note that God acts in the same way in His dealings with our souls.
Nothing escapes Him — not even what a fast victory would do to the land and its wild animals.
Notice, too, that God loses sight of nothing that affects His people. He tells them He will not drive out their enemies in one year — "lest the land become desolate and the wild beasts multiply against you." He would lead them on. He would bless them as they were able to bear it.
Israel had to grow before it could hold what it owned. One writer starts from the verse's own reason and moves on to what belongs to a believer in Christ.
This reminds us that we do not learn all the truth of God suddenly. Rather, gradually, little by little, we enter into the value of the great blessings we inherit "in Christ." Though "all spiritual blessings in the heavenly places in Christ" are the property of all true believers (Ephesians 1:3), yet it takes time to "possess our possessions."
A Christian grows the same way — in stages, not one leap.
This is still God's way in dealing with His saints. We do not grasp everything at once. Step by step we may advance in the things of God. We all begin as spiritual babes. It is a happy thing if we do move on to become the "young men," and then the "fathers," of 1 John 2.
Scripture puts the gift before the process.
So two things are quite definite. First, God had given. Second, He had also begun to give. A shallow reader might object here. If we accept both statements, he says, they must come in the reverse order: first He began to give, second He had fully given. The order in Scripture is, however, the right one. First He gives, so that the title deeds are ours. Then He begins to give practically and in detail, as we begin to possess.
Owning the land and occupying it are not the same experience. The second one is a fight.
As soon as we begin to possess, opposition springs up. The old powers do not yield without a struggle. It is a stern business. It means saying "No" to many things which are not the things freely given to us by God. It means exercise and conflict and trouble. But it is well worth it. The joy of victory follows. It is the joy of possessing a little more of what is ours by an unchallengeable title, given by God.
The promise still left Israel with work to do.
There was rest from war, since the enemy's power was broken. But taking possession of the inheritance would depend on future energy... From then on Israel had to obey the Lord, so that He would fulfil His promise to drive out the shattered nations before them by slow degrees.
The same writer keeps the two things distinct — what God has settled, and what depends on us.
God's sovereignty gave them the promised possession. Their prosperity depended on their behaviour. And so it is with the Christian.
- Little by little — the reason. God will not empty the land faster than Israel can fill it; He acts so as not to create a vacuum.
- Little by little — the mercy. He watches even the wildlife of their fields, and blesses them as they are able to bear it.
- Little by little — the gift. The title deeds are given first; then God begins to give in practice as we begin to possess.
- Little by little — the growth. Babes become young men, and young men become fathers. Nobody grasps everything at once.
- Little by little — the cost. God promises the ground; we still have to take it. That means conflict, obedience, and energy that does not run out.
By little and little I will drive them out from before thee, until thou art fruitful, and possess the land.
God's promise here sets a pace: the nations in Canaan will go, but slowly, tied to Israel's own growth. Why so slowly? And what does that pace say about the way God works with His people?
The previous verse gives the reason: an empty land would run wild. God matches the pace of removal to the pace at which Israel can fill the space.
But in all this God would act so as not to create a vacuum. He would drive out these nations "little by little," just as the Israelites increased in number and were able to fill up the land. One can see the wisdom of this, and also note that God acts this way in His dealings with our souls. We have to grow in grace. As we grow, we enter into the fullness of the blessing that is ours in Christ, and the old things lose their place in our hearts and lives. So we progress spiritually "little by little."
The same wisdom shows God's attention to detail. Nothing about His people's situation escapes Him, and He measures the blessing to what they can carry.
Notice, too, that God loses sight of nothing that affects His people. He tells them that He will not drive out their enemies in one year, "lest the land become desolate, and the beasts of the field multiply against you" (v. 29). He would lead them on — and bless them as they were able to bear it. But in due time they were to hold the full extent of their territory: "from the Red Sea to the Sea of the Philistines, and from the wilderness to the Euphrates" (v. 31). Sadly, Israel lost that promise through unfaithfulness. It came true only for a brief period during the reigns of David and Solomon.
There is a gap between what God has given and what we hold in practice. The slow conquest pictures that gap closing.
Wisely, then, God would gradually drive the enemies out until Israel was able to take full possession of their land. This reminds us that we do not learn all the truth of God suddenly. Instead, little by little, we enter into the value of the great blessings we inherit "in Christ." "Every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" belongs to all true believers (Eph. 1:3). Even so, it takes time to possess our possessions.
The turning point in the verse is Israel's own increase. In Israel that increase meant numbers — enough people to fill the land. What God gives is fixed; what grows is our capacity to hold it.
In our case we have to remember two things. God has blessed us with every spiritual blessing. And He never withdraws His gifts or His calling, and never changes His mind about them. The spiritual blessings are ours. But grasping them, realising them and enjoying them is another matter. This is where we can grow greatly. That we should grow like this is part of God's design in His dealings with us.
A slow promise still called for obedience. The main battles were over, but Israel still had to hold the land.
There was rest from war, because God had broken the enemy's power. But holding the inheritance would depend on future energy. The living God had driven out the nations, just as He promised when they crossed the Jordan. The walled cities and the dreaded giants had fallen. From then on Israel had to obey the Lord, so that He could keep His promise to cast out the shattered nations before them, little by little.
The later history of Israel shows the cost of standing still.
Israel meant well and made promises to Joshua. Even so, the book of Judges shows that they failed in their own responsibility to drive out the Canaanites (see Judges 1:27–36). So God had to withdraw His promise to drive them out. The angel of the LORD came to a place called Bochim and solemnly declared: "I will not drive them out before you, but they shall become thorns in your sides, and their gods shall be a snare to you" (Judges 2:3).
Yet the loss is not the last word.
The promise remains to be fulfilled in all its extent and blessing under the rule of Christ, whom David and Solomon only pictured. What Israel lost under responsibility will then be fulfilled in grace and power.
- Pace — God removes the nations "little by little" so the land is never left empty. The readiness of the receiver sets the speed of the gift.
- Measure — He blesses His people as they are able to bear it, losing sight of nothing that affects them.
- Increase — the promise turns on the words "until you have increased." The blessings are already ours; growing large enough to enjoy them is God's design.
- Effort — a slow promise still needs obedient energy. God promised to finish the work as Israel kept obeying Him.
- Loss — where the advance stopped, God withdrew the promise and the nations left behind became thorns. Israel held the full borders only briefly. What was lost under responsibility will yet be given in grace and power.
And I will set thy bounds from the Red Sea even unto the sea of the Philistines, and from the wilderness unto the river; for I will give the inhabitants of the land into your hand, that thou mayest dispossess them from before thee.
God closes His instructions about the land by drawing a map. He names the borders He will set for His people. He also names who does the work: He hands the inhabitants over, and Israel drives them out.
Older translations end this verse at "the river", without naming it. One writer explains why no name was needed.
Perhaps no other river is mentioned in Scripture as often as the Euphrates. It rose in Eden, or came from the river that had its springs there. Abraham answered the call of God and came into the land of Canaan. There God promised that his offspring would inherit the land, "from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates" (Gen. 15:18). Later the Lord spoke to Moses about Israel's inheritance. He said, "I will set your border from the Red Sea to the Sea of the Philistines, and from the wilderness to the Euphrates" (Exodus 23:31) [older translations end that line "to the river"]. The Euphrates was so important in the ways of God that it is called "the river". This river is God's geographical centre of the earth. Psalm 72:8 describes the Messiah's rule as "from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth".
Israel never held a land this size. One writer compares the borders God drew with the small strip people point to today.
They entered the land sword in hand. They had to gain it and to keep it by the sword. Even now, when God gives them the limits of their inheritance, we find nothing like the full extent of the land promised them... Their borders at this time reached neither the Red Sea nor the Euphrates... Men taunt Israel now with how small the land is — barely the size of Wales. That smallness does not show what grace has assigned them as their portion. It shows only their inability to make good their title to it.
Only two kings ever came near these borders, and even they held them briefly.
God loses sight of nothing that affects His people... He would lead them on — and bless them as they were able to bear it. But in due time they should have the full extent of their territory (v. 31). Sadly, the unfaithfulness of Israel lost that promise. It was never realised, except for a brief period during the reigns of David and Solomon (1 Chr. 18; 2 Chr. 9:26).
The promise came in stages, and each stage had to be claimed by faith.
First, we have the land set before them. This is no poetic exaggeration, overstating the much smaller territory they held. It matches the promise to their fathers, which we have in Genesis 15, and still more fully in Exodus 23:31. But as that last passage shows, the promise was to be fulfilled in instalments, as they had faith to take hold of it and make it their own — and they had not faith. Yet grace will not be defeated of its purpose, and the promise will not be left unfulfilled. It is the same for us with the better promise of a heavenly land. We are told to make it ours now, and we do so little.
The land was given outright. Prospering in it was another matter.
But the unchangeable favour of God does not lessen our responsibility. When Abraham's offspring grew into a nation, the Lord spoke to that nation about His promise to Abraham. He then pressed their responsibility on them: "But if you carefully obey his voice [that of the angel whom He sent] and do all that I say, then I will be an enemy to your enemies and an adversary to your adversaries." Israel's prosperity was therefore conditional — it depended on their obedience. The promised possession was theirs by divine sovereignty; their prosperity depended on their behaviour; and so it is with the Christian.
Israel's failure did not cancel the map.
Israel never held it in full. They never had the land promised to them from the Red Sea to the River Euphrates. God never takes back His gifts and His calling (Romans 11:29), so the time must yet come when they receive that land in the size promised in Exodus 23:31. Their restoration comes with the coming of their once rejected King, our Lord, and then the nation will hold this promised land.
- Promised — God Himself sets the borders: the Red Sea, the sea of the Philistines, the wilderness, and the Euphrates. It is the same span He pledged to Abraham.
- Given — God hands the inhabitants over. Israel goes in and fights on the strength of His "I will give".
- Claimed — the promise came in instalments, and faith had to take hold of each one. God's sovereignty made them owners; their obedience decided what they enjoyed.
- Forfeited — Israel reached those borders only briefly, under David and Solomon. The smallness of what they held measured their unbelief, not God's gift.
- Kept — God never takes back His gifts and calling, so the full map still stands. Israel will hold it when they receive their King.
Thou shalt make no covenant with them, nor with their gods.
Exodus 23 ends a long list of promises — an angel to lead, enemies driven out, wide borders — with a short ban on treaties. Why must Israel refuse every deal with the people already in the land, and why does God name their gods too?
These instructions look ahead to life in the land, not the desert. One writer notes what all the blessing depends on:
All these instructions have the land in view rather than the wilderness. Two things go with them, and all their blessing would depend on both — separation from evil, and serving the Lord their God. These conditions of blessing never change. They are as true now as they were with Israel. The Thessalonians turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God. Where God is in question, there can be no complicity with evil. He claims all that we are and have. When we own that claim, He can bless us according to the desires of His own heart.
A covenant here is a treaty — a formal peace. The command allows none of it:
Finally, absolute separation is once more required. There must be no covenant with the people of the land or their gods; nor should they let them live in the land. If they did, those people would surely make them sin against the Lord. There can be no alliance between the people of God and His enemies. "Friendship with the world is enmity with God." How I wish this truth in all its power were engraved on the hearts and memories of all who bear the name of Christ!
The same rule held even where the clearing of the land was incomplete:
Even though some of the enemies had not been driven out, Israel was to make no covenant with those remaining, and was not to allow any to go on living in the land. The danger of adopting their customs was strongly warned against.
The gods are named because a treaty with a people quietly includes a truce with their worship. Commenting on how lightly people treat this, one writer draws the line sharply:
In every age, nothing marks the difference between God's word and men's thoughts more deeply than this. People treat idols and strange gods lightly, and He hates that — above all in His own people. They may have no deliberate intention of abandoning His worship. They may count it a small thing: going along with idolatry now and then, while still professing His name. But God refuses any such unholy compromise outright. And that is apart from the danger it carries, for those who allow it, of complete revolt from Him. It strikes at His majesty, at holiness and truth, and He cannot bear it.
Why was Israel put under such terms? One writer answers with a question of his own:
Why were the people to keep the most marked separation from the Canaanites? Why were they to refuse, with firm decision, to make any covenant or form any marriage alliance with them? Why were they to demolish their altars and break their images? Simply because they were a holy people. And who had made them a holy people? The Lord. He had chosen them and set His love on them. He had redeemed them and separated them to Himself. So it was His right, and His alone, to say what they were to be and how they were to act. "You shall be holy, for I am holy."
Israel later made peace with the very peoples named here. One writer, looking at a moment of national recovery spoiled by a truce with the Amorites, shows that the passing of centuries changed nothing:
God had told Abraham that "the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet complete." Now they had filled up the measure of their sin, and God had devoted them to destruction. Israel was to make no league and seek no peace with them. Israel could only make and keep that peace by compromise and disobedience to God's express command. They might try to excuse themselves. Time had passed, they could say, and the Amorites were no longer what they used to be. But the excuse could not stand before God's plain command: "They shall not dwell in your land." … Nothing teaches you the way of the wicked faster than making leagues with them.
The most famous breach came through a trick. Men from the nearby town of Gibeon arrived in worn-out clothes, with mouldy bread, and claimed to be from far away. One writer asks whether a disguise can change what God said:
Could tattered garments, old shoes and mouldy bread change the meaning of the divine command? Certainly not. Nothing can ever justify lowering the standard of obedience to the word of God by so much as a hair's breadth. If there are difficulties in the way, if puzzling circumstances come before us … what are we to do? Reason? Jump to conclusions? Most certainly not. What then? Wait on God — patiently, humbly, trusting Him; and He will surely counsel and guide. If Joshua and the leaders had done this, they would never have made a treaty with the Gibeonites.
- Redeemed — God chose Israel, loved them, redeemed them and set them apart for Himself. That is why He may say who they must not deal with.
- Separated — so the command asks for full separation. No alliance with God's enemies, and no room for them in the land.
- Undivided — the ban covers their gods too. Even occasional idolatry strikes at God's majesty, holiness and truth.
- Conditional — every promise in the chapter rests on those same two things: separation from evil, and serving the Lord. The terms never change.
- Guarded — the safeguard is not cleverness but waiting on God. At Gibeon, mouldy bread and old shoes fooled men who reasoned instead of asking Him.
They shall not dwell in thy land, lest they make thee sin against me; for if thou serve their gods, it is sure to be a snare unto thee.
God's promise of the land ends with a limit on Israel's relationships: no treaty, no shared home, no shared gods. The command sounds harsh until you see its reason. The danger was not to Israel's safety. It was to Israel's worship.
The chapter's closing promise (verses 20–33) carries a condition:
God's unchangeable favour does not lessen our responsibility. The promised possession was theirs by God's sovereign gift. Their prosperity depended on their behaviour. The same is true for the Christian.
The ban was not about Israel's pride. It rested on a judgment already passed on those nations, and it taught Israel something about God:
They were completely to destroy the Canaanite inhabitants out of it, showing them no mercy, making no covenant or alliance with them. They were a people whose sin was now full, as it was not yet in Abraham's time. The land itself was spitting them out for their vile practices. In this respect Israel was only carrying out God's judgment, not their own anger or greed for land. He could have destroyed them by plague or famine. Instead He chose Israel to do it. In this way He gave His people the most solemn lesson possible about the holiness of His own nature, and about what sin is before Him. They would face the same dreadful judgments themselves if they followed them in their sin. Their disgusting gods of lust and murder were the full outcome and expression of that sin. There must be no toying with this evil, no alliance of any kind with those infected by it.
The verse gives its own reason twice over: living alongside them leads to serving their gods. One commentator draws the line as absolute, and applies it far beyond Israel:
Once more, God commands complete separation. There must be no covenant with the people of the land or with their gods, and Israel must not let them live in the land. If they did, those people would surely make them sin against the Lord. There can be no alliance between the people of God and His enemies. "Friendship with the world is enmity with God." How I wish this truth in all its power were engraved on the hearts and memories of everyone who bears the name of Christ!
Israel did not carry out the order. The snare God had described became the sentence He pronounced:
The book of Judges shows us that, despite their best intentions and their promises to Joshua, Israel failed in their own responsibility to drive out the Canaanites (see Judges 1:27–36). The result was that God had to withdraw His promise to drive them out. The angel of the Lord came to a place called Bochim and declared: "I will not drive them out before you, but they shall become thorns in your sides, and their gods shall be a snare to you" (Judges 2:3).
One writer explains why no peace was possible, and reads these nations as a picture of the spiritual enemies a believer still faces:
There must be no peace with the Canaanites — not because they were feared as rivals, but because they were doomed to destruction for their vile practices and their power to seduce. Seen as a picture, the Canaanites represent the agents of Satan — the spiritual wickedness in heavenly places. They are those rulers of the darkness of this world that we are called to wrestle with now. They are the powers of evil that keep turning every link of religion into a means of deliberate and ruinous dishonour to God. With such there can be, and ought to be, no terms, no compromise, no break in the fight at any time or under any circumstances.
One writer traces what happens when we spare a little of what God said to remove:
How often these spared enemies of God have gone off and set up the same things all over again, so that we have to face them once more and find them harder to conquer. You make a compromise in your private life. You may call it "a little one," as Lot did. It may be only one single principle of unfaithfulness or disloyalty to Christ. But you spare it, and it grows into a great city that damages your whole spiritual life.
- Gift, then condition. God gave the land as a promise. Enjoying it depended on obedience, and the same pattern holds for the Christian.
- Judgment, not conquest. God removed those nations because their sin was full. Israel carried out His sentence and learned His holiness while doing it.
- The risk is worship. God gives His reason in the command: living together leads to serving their gods, and that becomes the snare.
- Disobedience seals it. Israel spared them, so God stopped driving them out. What they kept became thorns in their sides and a snare, just as He warned.
- No terms with the enemy. The Canaanites picture the spiritual powers we still face. They allow no compromise, and the small thing spared grows back into a great city.