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.