Original Meaning
B. Social Responsibility (21:1–22:17)
1. FREEDOM AND servitude for Hebrew slaves (21:1–11). The remainder of the Book of the Covenant pertains to the various “laws” that Moses is to give the people. The Hebrew word used in 21:1 to describe these laws is the common mišpaṭim rather than debarim (“words”) used to introduce the Ten Commandments.
Why does this main body of regulations begin with a lengthy discussion of Hebrew slavery? Why not begin with matters of murder (v. 12)?8 In the context of the book, the reason seems obvious: The Israelites were slaves themselves in Egypt. Their first thought should be to take great care not to do what Egypt had done to them (see also 22:21; 23:9). Note especially 23:9: “Do not oppress an alien; you yourselves know how it feels to be aliens, because you were aliens in Egypt.” If the Israelites are to take care not to mistreat aliens, they must understand that such proper conduct toward others must begin at home, in their treatment of each other.
Having said this, however, one curious element strikes us immediately. If Israel ought to be so concerned not to abuse others as they had been in Egypt, why not abolish slavery altogether? The regulations given in 21:1–11 assume the existence of slaves and hence condones the practice. This cannot be explained away. We are once again reminded of the foundational shortcoming of liberation theology. The Exodus is not about releasing oppressed slaves so they can be “free.” If that were the case, slavery would have been done away with completely. Moreover, it is also a reminder to traditional Christianity that there is more to reading the Old Testament than simply appropriating its surface teaching on any matter. Many American Christians, particularly in the latter half of the nineteenth century, used passages such as this to demonstrate “biblically” their right to hold slaves.
It seems that people, even “free” Israelites, could be owned by other Israelites. But this fact does not occupy the writer’s attentions. His focus is on the proper treatment of these slaves, and it is here that Israel’s humanitarian9 thrust may be placed in contrast to the nations around them, particularly Egypt. For one thing, there is no Israelite perpetual slavery. In the seventh year (a clear application of the fourth commandment), a male slave is to go free without any legal obligation. The only stipulation is that he go as he came. If he came with a wife, she leaves with him. If a wife was given to him, she and any children must remain.
The slave, however, does have the right to remain a slave by publicly declaring his allegiance in a ceremony that involves the piercing of his ear with an awl (21:5–6). The precise nature of this ceremony is not known, although it clearly signified submission on the part of the slave and perhaps some type of brand mark (see Deut. 15:17; Ps. 40:6). The “judges” before whom they are to appear may be translated “God” rather than “judges,” since the Hebrew word is ʾ elohim (cf. NIV note). “God” is the preferred translation for some scholars, who envision a ceremony at the door of the sanctuary.10 This is possible in the abstract, but the matter is inconclusive. In my view, the scale tips in favor of the NIV’s translation, since ʾ elohim most likely means “judges” in 22:8–9. On the other hand, I prefer the translation “God” in 22:28 since there blasphemy is the crime. In the final analysis, the details elude us.
Whatever ethical misgivings modern readers may have regarding verses 1–6 are augmented in verses 7–11. Male slaves may go free in the seventh year, but female slaves may not. (This gender distinction does not seem to be carried through in Deut. 15:12.) Why? Moreover, it seems that Hebrew fathers could sell their own daughters into slavery!
Despite this, however, the point of the law is not to question the existence of this social condition, but to give clear guidelines for how people in such a condition must be treated. Although a daughter is sold to a man, this does not give the owner the right to do as he pleases. She is not to be mistreated. If he no longer wants her, she must be “redeemed” and not just discarded or sold to foreigners (a clear indication that the female slave in question is an Israelite woman), which probably means that she may be bought back by her family.
Moreover, if the female slave becomes a wife of the owner’s son, she ceases being a slave and becomes the owner’s daughter. There is a grammatical ambiguity in verse 10, which begins “if he marries another woman.” Who is the “he”? If it refers to the owner, this would imply that the owner has the right to marry the slave. If so, there would be some justification for understanding “servant” in verse 7 (ʾamah) as a “slave-wife.”11 The immediate context makes this unlikely, however, for the marriage in view in verse 9 is that of a son. Hence, “if he marries another woman” probably refers to the son’s taking another wife. In other words, the Israelite daughter sold into slavery either becomes the owner’s servant or the son’s wife. In either case, however, she is to be treated in such a way that her basic rights as a human being are protected. If she is not treated well, she may go free without any payment.
What is missing here is a detailed account of how foreign slaves are to be treated. Indeed, it is a question whether aliens were even to be used as slaves, since merely their oppression is mentioned in 22:21 and 23:9, not their enslavement. But these matters do not occupy the writer. His focus is on the proper, godly treatment of those Israelites on the lowest rung of the social ladder. They are fellow countrymen, the people of God, a part of the kingdom of priests and the holy nation (see 19:6).
2. Humans injuring other humans (21:12–27). Like the previous section, this one also deals with proper treatment of fellow Israelites—this time personal injury in general. Since verses 20–21 and 26–27 focus on situations specifically related to slaves, we must assume that the other laws in this section hold for all Israelites. Hence, the law against killing does not apply only to free Israelites but to any Israelite who kills any other.
It is helpful to think of these laws as an application of the fifth (esp. vv. 15, 17) and sixth commandments, though we should not apply this formula too rigidly. The kidnapping law in verse 16 probably falls under the eighth commandment (see comments on 20:15). Also, adultery and coveting are not represented at all in the Book of the Covenant. It is, therefore, best not to think of this book as simply an elaboration on the Ten Commandments.
The first point made here is a distinction between an intentional, premeditated killing and unintentional, accidental killing. The former is met with nonnegotiable punishment. If the latter happens, however, such a person will have the opportunity to take refuge in some not yet specified location (“cities of refuge,” described in more detail in Num. 35:6–32; Deut. 19:1–13). The end of Exodus 21:13 (“he is to flee to a place I will designate”) seems to anticipate these passages. We see then a qualification of the absolute principle, “You shall not murder.” If that homicide is accidental, it is apparently forgiven, although this passage does not fill out the details.
One’s conduct towards one’s parents is also prominent here. Verses 15 and 17 mandate death to anyone who attacks or curses his or her parents. The NIV text note suggests “kills” as an alternate translation to “attacks,” and this is likely correct. The root nkh regularly (but by no means always) refers to killing, especially in Exodus (e.g., 2:12; 12:12), though this same root does not refer to killing in 21:18–19 (NIV, “hits”). In any event, this law should probably be read in light of the previous law of verses 12–14.
What it means to curse one’s parents is ambiguous. Following a number of commentators, it seems best to think of this as some egregious act of disrespect or repudiation, a “serious breach of filial duty,” enough to warrant death—for example, neglecting their duty to care for their parents in old age.12 But as is typical not only in the legal sections but throughout Exodus, the details are left unexpressed. Also, precisely why the kidnapping law of verse 16 was inserted between the two laws concerning parents is not clear.
The laws mentioned in verses 12–17 are grievous enough to result in certain death to the perpetrator. The remaining laws in this section (vv. 18–27) deal with more ambiguous matters. Again, they do not cover any and every circumstance, but merely a sampling. For example, if an altercation occurs, clearly intended to harm but does not result in death, there is no death penalty but some restitution must be made for loss of time and for proper healing to take place. One nagging gap in this law, especially if it is intended to be strictly followed, is the lack of any specificity regarding the amount and type of restitution. How is this law to be carried out?
The case of killing one’s servants is ambiguous as well (vv. 20–21). This law requires that the owner be “punished” if he beats his slave and he or she dies. This raises two issues. (1) If the slave survives, there is no punishment. Hence, in this respect the slave is not given restitution as is the free man. Why? Because the slave’s “loss” is not his own, since he belongs to the master (v. 21). (2) What precisely is this punishment? If the slave dies, the master is punished. If the slave does not die, he is not punished, which seems to imply that punishment cannot mean the death penalty. If “punishment” meant “death,” there would be no need to mention it in the event of the slave’s survival, since death would not be meted out in the case of mere injury, even with a free man. But then what is that punishment? Again, the details are frustratingly unclear.
Verses 22–25 are among the best known in the Book of the Covenant for two reasons: Many find a biblical argument against abortion in verse 22, and verses 23–25 contain the famous phrase “eye for eye, tooth for tooth.”
Verse 22 suffers from some of the same ambiguities as does the rest of the Book of the Covenant and should therefore be used with great caution in any modern debate. (1) What the NIV translates “and she gives birth prematurely” (see text note, “she has a miscarriage”) is difficult to find in the Hebrew. The phrase literally is, “and her children come out.” It does seem that the “coming out” is the result of striking, but this is in the context of a fight between two men where the woman is an innocent bystander, so its relevance for abortion is questionable.
(2) The phrase “but there is no serious injury” (v. 22) is ambiguous. The Hebrew does not tell us who the injured party is, whether the child or the mother. If the mother is in view, which is grammatically possible, then the state of the child, whether miscarried or merely born prematurely, is not important. If, however, the child’s injury is in view, the subsequent verses concern proper restitution for the child. If it is not seriously injured, some fine is imposed by the husband and court. If it is seriously injured, the “law of retaliation” goes into effect, which is straightforward, though how “an eye for an eye” could be implemented in such a case is not at all clear.
The whole matter is actually more complicated than I have laid out here. Similar instances in ancient Near Eastern law call for the restitution of some monetary payment in the event the fetus does not survive, but it is not clear to what extent these laws should have bearing on 21:22 (is biblical law mirrored in the ancient Near Eastern law or an advance upon it?). In the final analysis, however, I take the following argument by J. Sprinkle to be the most cogent approach to the proper interpretation of this passage:
I take
[ʾswn, what the NIV translates as “injury”] to apply solely to the woman, the plural
[yldyh, “her children” in my translation above] implying an abstract “child-product, fruit of the womb,” or the like, an apt term for a stillborn baby. Most premature births before modern medical science would result in the death of the fetus, and the many parallel cuneiform laws which have influenced biblical formulations all assume the death of the fetus. Hence the death of the child at the premature birth is assumed [i.e., the law of retribution pertains only to the mother].13
Although this law is clearly meant to maintain the dignity and worth of human life, it is ambiguous in its details. But as for abortion, however strongly I and many others deplore it, it can only be applied to the modern debate if it can be shown what relevance an unintentional killing of a fetus has for a woman’s “choice.” Also, even if it were relevant for the debate, a convincing argument would have to be mounted for why the principles behind this law should be adhered to but not many of the others in the Book of the Covenant (e.g., 22:16–17).
The remaining law in this section (vv. 26–27) concerns personal injury to a servant. Only injury to an eye and tooth are mentioned, but these terms clearly are meant to refer back to the fuller expression of the law of retribution in verses 23–25.14 The point is that if a servant is injured, rather than requiring equal injury of the master, the servant is simply to be let go. Rather than being a picture of the slave’s worth, the opposite seems to be the case.15 The slave’s injury is not on the same level as a free man’s, otherwise the restitution would be the same. The freedom granted the servant simply means that the master who did the injuring suffers merely financial loss; he can always get another servant. The servant, however, is without an eye or tooth. Moreover, he or she must now find some other manner of support.
3. Various injuries involving animals (21:28–36). We move from injuries inflicted between human beings (slave and free) to injuries involving animals, either inflicted by them or to them. These laws clear up a matter left ambiguous in the preceding laws concerning the value of a slave’s life. In verses 28–32, two types of bulls are referred to, the one that gores a human in an isolated incident and the one who has had a habit of goring. In the first case, the bull is put to death but the owner is not held responsible. In the second case, both the bull and the owner must be put to death. A payment option may be exercised, however (presumably at the wishes of the victim’s family), thus “redeeming” the negligent owner’s life. If, however, the bull gores a servant, the bull is killed but the owner has only to pay a fine of thirty shekels of silver to the owner of the deceased slave. The clear implication is that the life of a free person is worth more than that of the servant.
Whereas injury by animals as a result of human negligence deserves some recompense, so too injury done to animals by negligent humans (vv. 33–34). We are not told why someone would dig or uncover a pit, nor are we told why such a situation deserves specific attention in the Book of the Covenant. The point simply is that, like the loss of a slave, the loss of an animal means a financial loss for the owner. Hence, some financial compensation is in order.
The final scenario is loss of one animal by another (vv. 35–36). Having begun with human against human, the laws then treat in turn animal against human, human against animal, and now animal against animal. In the case of a one-time goring resulting in death (mere injury does not come into view here), the live animal is to be sold and both parties are to divide up the money and the carcass. But if the bull had a habit of goring (by which I take it to mean, both here and above, one or more previous instances of goring), the owner of the live animal may keep the carcass, but he must pay the entire fine to the other owner.
4. Concerning matters of property (22:1–17). This section extends not simply to verse 15, as is indicated by the NIV headings, but through verse 17. The NIV is somewhat generous in its estimation of the status of certain classes of women in Israelite society. The only reason for separating the case of a virgin from the cases of property in verses 1–15 is the assumption that virgin daughters are more than simply property. This may be the case, but the specific law in verses 16–17 has more in common structurally with what precedes than with what follows. These two verses close the preceding unit with the same Hebrew syntax as verses 1–15 (the formula “if . . . then . . .”). This ceases abruptly in verse 18 when commands are used.
Although these laws are united by syntactical concerns, their topics are free-floating. In general they all concern matters of protection to property, but a variety of scenarios is described. The basic categories are as follows: theft (vv. 1–4), carelessness leading to property damage (vv. 5–6), the safekeeping of one person’s property by another (vv. 7–15), and seduction of a virgin (vv. 16–17).
Verses 1–4 deal with stealing. Verse 2 concerns the killing of the intruder, which is only permissible at night. The logic behind this law seems to be that if the intruder is identifiable, retributive justice should be left for the proper channels. Perhaps this law is intended to discourage vigilante justice. Moreover, death is not the proper penalty for thievery, at least not according to the law of retribution announced in the previous section. That killing the thief at night is permissible appears to give the victim great liberty to defend his own property, as well as obviating any threat to his own life. This law maintains a victim’s rights to self-defense.
The other laws in verses 1–4 deal with matters of restitution. Stealing and then selling livestock results in a fivefold or fourfold restitution. If the stolen animal is found alive, the thief must pay back double (so that he understands the element of risk in his theft if he gets caught). If the thief cannot make restitution, he must be sold into slavery to pay for his debt.
Negligence is also a crime (vv. 5–6). We have seen this in the previous section regarding animals who have a habit of goring. Since damage to property is in view here rather than personal injury, the penalty is material restitution rather than death. Two scenarios are in view. The first is allowing one’s livestock to graze in another’s field or vineyard. The second is a fire that breaks out, presumably other than arson, in which case the one responsible must make restitution. The type of restitution is something like the law of retribution: Whatever is damaged, whether by grazing or fire,16 must be paid back in kind.
Trust between fellow Israelites was an important matter, and one can see why certain laws were enacted to help prevent bad blood from developing (vv. 7–9). The basic thrust is that when someone entrusts you with something for safekeeping, you are ultimately responsible. If theft is involved, the thief himself, if caught, must pay back double. But if he is not caught, the one to whom the goods were entrusted becomes a suspect (v. 8). It is then up to the judge to determine his guilt or innocence. Whoever is guilty must pay back double. Verse 9 seems to extend the principle to all cases of wrongful possession, that is, to any case where the property of one is claimed to be in the possession of another. In either case, the point is the same. Regardless of how it got there, if it can be proved that someone is in illegal possession of someone else’s property, that person will pay double.17
If the safekeeping of livestock is involved, the matter is more complicated (vv. 10–15). With animals there is always the potential of death or injury. In this case, it must first be settled whether the one entrusted was immediately responsible. This is determined by the taking of an oath before the Lord (the details of such a ceremony are nowhere given). If the person is innocent, no restitution is required. If, however, the animal is stolen from him while under his care, he must make restitution. It should be pointed out that if an animal is stolen from the one to whom it is entrusted, it results in a fine, whereas the stealing of silver or goods is cause for an investigation (vv. 7–9). It is not stated why this is the case. Death of the animal at the hands of a wild beast, however, is not a punishable offense, provided evidence can be put forth.
A related matter concerns not the safekeeping of an animal but the borrowing of an animal (vv. 14–15). If the animal dies or is injured while its owner is present as a witness, there is no restitution, since the owner himself has witnessed that the borrower is not culpable. If, however, the owner is not present, restitution must be made.
These scenarios differ from the laws of verses 10–13. If someone is entrusted with someone else’s livestock, the initiator of the transaction is the owner of the livestock. That is why the one entrusted with the livestock is given every benefit of the doubt in the case of injury or death (an oath is taken). If, however, the borrower initiates the transaction, it is the lender who is given the benefit of the doubt. This makes sense, since the borrower may have ulterior motives for borrowing (like neighbors we have probably all had, who borrow but never seem to get around to returning the item, only to find months later that it is “lost”). If the animal was not borrowed but hired, money has already changed hands, and this is sufficient compensation to the owner who suffers the loss. It is assumed that the one who hired the animal did not do so to kill or injure it, which would be a complete waste of his money.
Finally, we come to the matter of the virgin (vv. 16–17). A virgin who is not pledged to be married and who is seduced by a man shall become that man’s wife (this is not rape, hence some consent on the part of the woman is implied). It is important to understand this law from the point of view of the wronged party: It is not the virgin who suffers a loss in such a situation but her father. As I suggested above, this law falls under the category of “property damage,” not “social responsibility.” If a virgin has sexual relations with a man outside of marriage, she is “damaged goods,” which means the father will not be able to exact the bride-price for her. That is why the man who seduced her will have to make restitution to him, not to her (v. 17). Marriage, which would help the daughter save face, is something the father can refuse, but the bride-price must be paid to him nonetheless.
Bridging Contexts
THE LAW AND the Christian. When we as Christians turn to the Book of the Covenant, our attention is focused sooner or later on the relevance of these laws for the Christian life. This, of course, is a matter well worth addressing, but we must be careful not to be premature. What will properly bridge the ancient and modern contexts is, first, an understanding of the Book of the Covenant in its own context, which is the book of Exodus specifically as well as the Old Testament as a whole, and then the meaning of the law in light of the coming of Christ.
(1) Within the context of Exodus, as we have seen above, the Book of the Covenant is part of a triad of concepts that dominate the book as a whole: redemption, worship, law. Neither in Exodus nor anywhere else in the Old Testament should the law be viewed in the abstract.
Obedience to law is something God requires of his people, not just so that they have something to do, but that they may have a proper relationship with him. It is because God has redeemed Israel that he is worthy of their obedience, and that obedience has both vertical and horizontal dimensions. And proper worship of God is not left to Israel’s whim, nor is it to be something that is simply styled after the manner in which Israel’s neighbors worship their gods. Rather, it is important that a major component of the Book of the Covenant be regulations concerning worship. We must remember the refrain of the Exodus narrative itself: “Let my people go, so that they may worship me.” Israel is a worshiping community, and the Book of the Covenant contains the stipulations that direct the Israelites as they perform that function.
Interwoven with these vertically oriented stipulations are laws that govern Israel’s conduct among themselves. It is wrong to divorce these “social” laws from the same context in which we view the laws on worship that make up the rest of the Book of the Covenant. The Book of the Covenant is one body of law. It is in its entirety Israel’s response to the God of redemption. Its structure is, in this respect, a fuller expression of Jesus’ words in Matthew 22:37–40. In a test by an “expert in the law,” Jesus was once asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus responded with these familiar words:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.
We see this already in the Book of the Covenant: a vertical and horizontal dimension to the law.
The law given to Israel on Mount Sinai is an event for which God’s people have been prepared. It is not an afterthought; it is the purpose for their redemption. There are two things to be kept in mind about the place of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus. (a) Law is a response to redemption, not a precondition for redemption, a point made repeatedly in previous chapters. (b) Law is a positive undertaking for Israel. It is not a burden, but liberation, freedom. It is God’s pattern of vertical and horizontal conduct for his people. Since the Israelites have been redeemed, it is now a path toward a fuller realization of God’s universal plan of redemption, a plan that will only truly come into its own with the coming of Christ.
(2) But what of the broader context in which to understand the law, the Old Testament as a whole? To be sure, a number of the laws contained in the Book of the Covenant are found elsewhere in the Old Testament, at least in substance (Deuteronomy, Leviticus, Psalms, the Prophets). But merely noting the repetition of some laws here and there will not help us understand what purpose they have in God’s overarching scheme of redemption.
When we frame the discussion this way, we are invoking an issue that has separated Christians from Jews—and from each other—for two thousand years: the meaning and significance of the law. How (or even if!) the laws of the Book of the Covenant are to be applied here and now is a question that can be addressed only after this preliminary question is addressed. Applying this or that law is a risky endeavor without first considering the Christian framework within which Old Testament law as a whole should be understood.
The application of the Book of the Covenant will be left for the Contemporary Significance section, whereas here we will attempt to provide the proper framework for understanding this unit. The problem with such a discussion, however, is that it is difficult to get one’s arms around the entire issue. Any topic that has been so debated over the centuries and that so many have found difficult to resolve must therefore be a tricky and nuanced topic. What follows is a general outline of thinking generated by our observations on the role of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus.
What we have seen above with respect to the Book of the Covenant in the context of the Exodus from Egypt is also true of law in general in the Old Testament as a whole. (1) It is a “post-redemptive” phenomenon. (2) It is not legalistic, in the sense in which many Christians use the term, but a gift from God.
(1) It is universally true throughout the Old Testament that the law is Israel’s possession. It is meant to be obeyed by God’s people. The nations surrounding Israel—the Egyptians, Assyrians, Canaanites, or Babylonians—are never condemned for their failure to capitulate to the Sinaitic law. They are rather condemned essentially because of their treatment of the Israelites, specifically for their attempts at annihilating Israel. This much is clear, for example, by looking at the so-called “oracles against the nations” in Isaiah 13–23 (excluding the prophecy about Jerusalem in ch. 22) and Jeremiah 46–51.
These nations are judged because of specific behavior that affects Israel’s existence as the people of God. They are judged because they want to destroy Israel through war. This, obviously, God cannot allow. They are also judged because of idolatry. What ignites God’s anger, however, is not the fact that such idolatry breaks such laws as Exodus 20:3–6 or 22:20. These are Israel’s laws. The problem with the nations’ idolatry is that it infests the true worship of the true God that Israel is supposed to exemplify. If such false worship were adopted in any way by Israel—a constant temptation throughout her history—this would lead to Israel’s destruction.
These, then, are the reasons the nations meet with God’s displeasure. It must be remembered that it is the nations that God ultimately wants to redeem (cf. Gen. 12:3). Hence, God’s judgment against them must be understood as a function of their direct opposition to his intention to create for himself a people belonging to him, whose influence will then spread to the ends of the earth. When we read the Old Testament, therefore, with its “heavy emphasis” on law, we should not think of this emphasis as being in any way opposed to grace. Grace (redemption) precedes law. This is why the law applies to God’s people only. This is no less true of law in the Old Testament in general as it is of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus.
(2) The second point, touched on elsewhere in this commentary, bears repeating. The law was never a burden. It became burdensome when Israel ceased obeying, but this is simply a consequence of disobedience. To be sure, Israel’s initial meeting with God on Mount Sinai produced great fear in their hearts, but that is because they came face-to-face with God on his holy mountain, not because they were given laws to obey. True, it took time for the Israelites to get used to the fact that their covenant, redeeming God made demands on them. The initial reception of these commands was not met with tremendous enthusiasm, although the people did unanimously pledge themselves to obedience (24:3, 7). Moreover, within a brief period we see the Israelites blatantly disregarding God’s law in chapter 32 (golden calf episode).
Such an attitude toward the law is a recurring theme throughout the Old Testament, but we must remember that this is a function of Israel’s sin. That the law may have seemed to the Israelites from time to time as an annoying or even oppressive burden is not a property of law as such. In time, Israel came to learn more deeply that the law was a gift, not a poison. Or, in the words of Deuteronomy 32:47: “They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.” The Old Testament is replete with passages that extol the law as a thing not only to be obeyed, but to be studied and loved (e.g., Ps. 119).
As we read the many stipulations that make up the Book of the Covenant, this is not a lull in the action. We as Christians may look on these laws as an intrusion in the narrative that may be profitably skipped over. For ancient Israelites, however, the law on Mount Sinai represents the beginning of the climax of the book, a climax that carries through to the end of the book with the regulations regarding the construction of the tabernacle. Rather than a collective sigh or show of indifference, the ears of the original audience would have perked up at this stage. Now they can know what God, their Savior, wants them to do, in their conduct both with him and with each other. These are not just idle words, but life itself.
(3) Yet we cannot leave the matter there. That the law in the Old Testament is so highly esteemed is difficult for many Christians to square with what certainly appears to be a negative evaluation of the law in the New Testament. One does not need to search far in the New Testament to find critical remarks about the law. The following is a small sampling of passages:
He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. (2 Cor. 3:6)
Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin. But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known. . . . (Rom. 3:19–21)
For we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from observing the law. (Rom. 3:28)
It was not through law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise that he would be heir of the world, but through the righteousness that comes by faith. For if those who live by law are heirs, faith has no value and the promise is worthless, because law brings wrath. And where there is no law there is no transgression. (Rom. 4:13–15)
When we phrase the discussion this way, we have entered a debate that has been raging since the beginning of Christianity: What is the relationship between the law and the gospel? The fact that Paul devoted so much attention to it in his letters indicates that it was a frequent and necessary topic of discussion in the first century. That the law is a positive, liberating element in the Old Testament is beyond debate. But likewise, the ineffectiveness of the law in view of the coming of Christ is nonnegotiable as well. How can the two be held together?
When we keep in mind the magnitude of this issue, it becomes clear that the best that can be done here is to give some suggestive, “big picture” types of comments to bring the issue into better focus and to lead us into the subject of application in the following section. As I see it, a proper understanding of the Old Testament in light of the coming of Christ should keep in mind the following.32
(a) The law is not a wholly negative entity in the New Testament. One cannot speak of a sweeping law/gospel dichotomy that puts the Old Testament and New Testament economies at odds. Paul’s own view of the law, in fact, is complex and resists simplistic evaluation. He has both positive and negative statements to make about its role for those who are “in Christ.” We must remember that mixed in with his “negative” statements on the law are positive comments (e.g., a reference to the fifth commandment in Eph. 6:1–3 and to Ex. 22:28 in Acts 23:4–5).
(b) Jesus saw himself and his mission, in some sense, as the fulfillment of Old Testament law. He tells us in Matthew 5:17–20 how he relates to the law:
Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.
This is not the easiest of passages to understand, but several general conclusions can be drawn. (i) Jesus was not “anti-law.” He saw himself as fulfilling the law of Moses and the teaching of the prophets (v. 17). (ii) In some sense, even the very details of the law are of vital importance. In fact, they will remain “until heaven and earth disappear” (v. 18). The law is not to be taken lightly. (iii) There are consequences for those who do not obey or who teach others not to obey. These will be “least in the kingdom of heaven” (v. 19). The “kingdom of heaven” refers to those who are a part of God’s kingdom here and now. It is also clear that Jesus is not speaking here of what to do in order to enter this kingdom, but of proper conduct for those already a part of the kingdom. As in the Old Testament, law is not a condition for entering God’s family, but the rules for those who are in God’s family. (iv) True obedience to the law, which is what Jesus sets out to explain throughout the Sermon on the Mount (chs. 5–7), exceeds that of the so-called experts (Pharisees), who understood law merely in the outward, legalistic sense.
(c) Paul’s statements about the law should not be understood apart from the context in which he addressed those statements. The apostle was not engaged in abstract theological speculation, nor was he concerned to discuss “the concept of the law.” He was rather a pastor-theologian addressing particular people with particular problems. Extreme condemnation of the law, such as we find in his letter to Galatians, must be understood in connection with the Judaizing influence in Galatia. Hence, at least part of Paul’s polemics against law is really an argument against an improper estimation of the law’s effectiveness in first-century Judaism. Such a contextual understanding of Paul’s statements on the law also holds for as “systematic” a letter as Romans. Paul here is writing to a church with which he is likely not familiar, and his concern is to make sure they are well rooted in the basics of the gospel, which in his day (as in ours) was always running the risk of losing its grace-centered core.
(d) Having said all this, however, we must take care not to lose sight of the radical nature of the gospel. However positively or ambiguously the New Testament portrays the relationship between law and gospel, the coming of Christ inaugurated an era that rendered obsolete any soteriological scheme, including the Old Testament, that proceeded apart from that event. There is, in other words, both continuity and discontinuity between the era before the coming of Christ and after his coming in terms of the relationship between law and gospel. This is certainly not to say that the gospel “corrected” the legalism of the Old Testament. But it is to say that the death and resurrection of Christ were something new and amazing, even if they were at the same time the ultimate goal for which God had been preparing his people throughout the Old Testament. It is, to use Paul’s words, “a righteousness from God, apart from law . . . to which the Law and the Prophets testify” (Rom. 3:21, italics added).
What then is the Christian’s response to the law? We are saved not by any of our own efforts, but by Christ’s supreme effort on the cross. But as Christians, we take God’s law to heart, not legalistically, but as a pattern of conduct in God’s world. That pattern is perhaps best expressed in the “law of love” (Matt. 5:43–48; 7:12; 22:40), for as we love others, we will be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect (5:48).
Contemporary Significance
THE LAW AND THE CHRISTIAN. To this point I have resisted speaking specifically about the actual laws in the Book of the Covenant. This has been intentional. It is important to communicate that the Book of the Covenant is not meant to be mined today for those laws that seem applicable. It is hard to see how we as Christians can do theological justification to Exodus 20:22–23:19 when we take a sampling of a few laws that seem to be generally compatible in today’s world while ignoring or even downplaying those that do not. We are all comfortable with “Do not blaspheme God or curse the ruler of your people” (22:28). Some of us might like to see the death penalty for bestiality enforced (22:19). But few of us would feel comfortable with treating virgin daughters as property (22:16–17). And how many Christian bankers would relieve their struggling Christian brothers and sisters from paying interest on a loan (22:25)? Indeed, would they even get past the application process?!
The law reflects the nature of God, but it does so in a historical context. The Book of the Covenant is God’s law, but it reveals God to a people living at a particular point in time and for whom he has a particular purpose. One should not simply assume, therefore, that these laws necessarily “apply” to our world today. To say this is not to denigrate the law, but to understand it properly. Those who insist that these laws must be kept today will likely be inconsistent when they themselves attempt to obey them, particularly if they do not own slaves, bulls, oxen, sheep, or donkeys (frequent topics throughout 21:2–22:15).
Of course, one way around this matter is to argue that it is not the laws themselves that need to be applied, but the principles underlying them. This is a common way of handling Old Testament law in genera l, so it is likely not without merit, but I will not take this approach here. Little would be added by repeating the efforts of others. But more important, looking for principles does not really settle the matter of how the law ought to be applied. In fact it introduces a number of problems of its own.
(1) Just what is a “principle” that underlies a law? It is not always easy to discern with any confidence the principle on which to base a present-day application. This is so for three reasons. (a) Many of the laws are too vague or difficult to understand. We have already seen this problem with respect to a number of laws in the Book of the Covenant (e.g., 21:22, the law often understood as support for biblical condemnation of abortion). Since it is difficult to understand the precise nature of this and other laws, to what extent can principles be derived from them?
(b) Some of the laws have a clear underlying principle, but the principles are so general as to be of little use as a guide for conduct. An example is 22:20: “Whoever sacrifices to any god other than the LORD must be destroyed.” The underlying principle might be something like, “Yahweh is the only God to be worshiped,” but discerning this underlying principle does not give any guidance as to how this principle should be applied today. Moreover, one does not need this law to make the point. In other words, in what sense can we say that we are applying the Book of the Covenant when this law refers to sacrifice and the death penalty? What good is a vague principle detached from the specifics from which the principle itself is derived?
(c) Some laws are so irrelevant that they resist any application, even the law’s principle. Finding a timeless principle in 22:29–31, for example, stretches common sense, unless one appeals to a general, vague notion of holiness (see v. 31). But applying such a principle would be done essentially at the expense of the specifics of the law itself.
(2) Another reason for not looking for principles in the Book of the Covenant is that I doubt if this is the reason these laws were given in the first place. These laws were specific to Israel’s impending entrance into the Promised Land. They were given to serve a purpose for the Israelites at this particular stage in redemptive history. Moses did not say, “Here are some specific laws God wants you to obey, but remember to look for the underlying principles and struggle to apply the principles to your lives.” In fact, the reason why principles are sought at all is because of the obvious time-boundedness of the laws, combined with the assumption that since Israel applied these laws, we must do so in some sense as well. The appeal to principles seems the only way, but in doing so we should acknowledge that our application is based on something the original audience would likely not have recognized. Such an approach to obedience to the law may “feel” biblical, but it actually requires a “rewriting” of the text to be able to live by it.
(3) A final reason why I do not feel fully comfortable with looking for principles in the Book of the Covenant is because such an approach does not struggle enough with what the death and resurrection of Christ has to say about law. Again, we are treading on eggshells when we discuss the relationship between the law and the gospel, but tread every Christian must. Does extracting principles from the Old Testament law do justice to the significance of what Jesus did? Is this the best we can do, living as we do in the brilliant light of the resurrection?
These are questions worth asking, but to this point I have been hedging about how precisely to apply the law. The reason for my hesitancy is simple: The New Testament opinion on the matter seems ambiguous. The very fact that Paul in his letters cites specific laws certainly implies that the law is something that can, or even should, be brought into the Christian life, and nothing I have said to this point is directed at undermining this. The question I have is not so much whether the law is relevant, but how. That is the difficult question. I assume it says something to us on some level, but what is that level? How do we get the law from there to here?
To put the problem another way, it is the data of the New Testament itself that complicate the matter. The New Testament is not at all clear on how the law is to be applied by Christians. It presents at least three models. This is the first point to be acknowledged in the debate. (a) In the New Testament occasional letters, sometimes the law seems to have no place (e.g., Rom. 10:4). (b) Yet at other times Paul authoritatively cites a specific law as binding on Christians (e.g., Eph. 6:2). (c) And in at least one instance he even seems to apply a principle. In 1 Corinthians 9:9 (see also 1 Tim. 5:18), Paul cites Deuteronomy 25:4: “Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.” What does this law mean as far as Paul is concerned?
Is it about oxen that God is concerned? Surely he says this for us, doesn’t he? Yes, this was written for us, because when the plowman plows and the thresher threshes, they ought to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest. If we have sown spiritual seed among you, is it too much if we reap a material harvest from you? If others have this right of support from you, shouldn’t we have it all the more?
But we did not use this right. On the contrary, we put up with anything rather than hinder the gospel of Christ. (1 Cor. 9:9–12)
Paul insists that the point of the law is some underlying principle and not the specifics of the law itself. Of course, one could simply argue that Paul is appealing to this law for rhetorical effect, a fruitful avenue of inquiry in my view, but this may be more skirting the issue than an honest attempt to deal with this passage.
We should not attempt to apply the Book of the Covenant until we have some idea of how we are warranted to do so in light of the resurrection. Yet, when we turn to the pages of the New Testament for guidance, we find the three different models just listed. The last thing I want to do is add to the confusion by suggesting an approach to the law that will cover the diverse data we find in the New Testament. After all, there is a reason why this has been a topic of ongoing debate for the entire existence of the church: It is a tricky topic!
When all is said and done, when I read the Book of the Covenant, the first thought that pops into my mind is not, “How do I bring these laws into my life; how do I follow them today?” Rather, the first thing I think of is, “Now I see better how God dealt with his people soon after the Exodus.” This is not to say that none of these laws has any relevance to our conduct, but I am not about to draw up a list of laws that apply or those that don’t. Nor am I going to abstract principles from these laws to apply to current situations. I remain convinced that what we as Christians are supposed to glean from the Book of the Covenant is an understanding of the nature of God and what he requires of his people, what Jesus summarized as loving God and treating your neighbor as yourself.
The Book of the Covenant teaches us that God requires his people to behave properly toward God and with each other. This is true religion. This is true worship. And, as most Christians understand, what constitutes proper behavior is more often than not a matter of spiritual wisdom and Christian maturity rather than having an exhaustive manual to cover each scenario (even the Book of the Covenant does not do that!). And, most important, as with the Israelites, the Christian’s view of the law must first be rooted in the knowledge of what God has already done, apart from the law. He has called us from darkness into light.
Original Meaning
C. Worship and Social Responsibility (22:18–23:19)
1. WORSHIP: SORCERESSES, bestiality, and false sacrifices (22:18–20). With 22:18 we begin the final section of the Book of the Covenant, which interweaves social and cultic matters. As mentioned above, this section demonstrates the close association of what we might call “secular” matters and matters of proper worship. For ancient Israelites, all of life is rooted in worship. The quality of one’s worship is shown at least in part in one’s conduct toward others.
These three laws are brief. The first command is against sorceresses. The Hebrew root is kšp, which occurs only thirteen times in the Old Testament.18 That similar figures are mentioned in Exodus 7:11 suggests some rationale for why they would be mentioned here, but it is not clear why these individuals are female. Nor is it explained just what sorcery entails. If we allow 7:11 to offer a suggestion, sorcery probably involves calling on forces other than Yahweh, which thus constitutes an act of false worship.
According to Leviticus 18:23–25, bestiality (Ex. 22:19) is a cultic offense. It is also a religious practice of Israel’s neighbors, and thus must be avoided along with many other things that blur the line between the true worship of the true God and the false worship of false gods.19 But no explicit reason for this law is given, likely because none is needed. There is more to the prohibition than simply the fact that bestiality is a sick, demented, gross act. Since this act is grievous enough to warrant the death penalty, something more significant than mere social convention is at work. This law should be understood within a cultic context.
The third law is the most explicitly cultic of the three:20 Sacrificing to other gods is punishable by death. Note that the Hebrew root ḥrm is used here to describe the death penalty rather than mwt, which has been used elsewhere in the Book of the Covenant. This root indicates the surrendering of something to God for the purpose of utter and complete destruction (cf. NIV note).21 Throughout Joshua, for example, this word is used with respect to the destruction of Canaanite cities. Anything that is potentially hostile to God is dealt with in this way. The irony here is that it is Israelites themselves who are treated in this way, not people from the outside.
2. Social responsibility: oppression and loans (22:21–28). Immediately after these cultic laws is a series of laws aimed at the proper treatment of others, whether Israelites or foreigners living within their borders. The first one (v. 21) concerns mistreatment and oppression of aliens. We are not told what form this mistreatment might take. “Alien” (Heb. ger; see again 2:22) is a common word in the Old Testament and pertains to someone without rights to land or property. This, of course, is exactly what Israel was in Egypt, and the law makes that connection explicit. Hence, we may conclude that mistreatment and oppression probably refer to harsh enslavement.
Aliens represent a disadvantaged portion of the population. Another such group is widows and orphans (vv. 22–24). Having no husband or parent makes a person particularly susceptible to those who prey on the weak, an unfortunate human trait no less true then than it is today. This is why this command is accompanied by a warning: Oppression of these people will not go unnoticed. God will hear their cry, as he did Israel’s in 2:23–25. The same fate awaits these oppressors as that which fell on the Egyptians. They will be killed, thus making their own wives widows and their children orphans.
Verses 25–27 concern proper treatment of the “needy,” those severely disadvantaged economically. If a poor man is loaned money, he is to be charged no interest. Presumably, the proper motive for lending money to the poor is to help one’s neighbor and not to make a profit.22 It was customary to take a pledge in a loan transaction, a form of collateral. The fact that someone would give a cloak as a pledge rather than something more valuable indicates his destitute state. But that cloak is to be returned by sunset so that he may sleep warmly. (One rightly wonders how functional a pledge would be that could only be kept for several hours.)
These three laws highlight what we have seen throughout the book of Exodus: God loves his people dearly. He is protective of them against any abuse, including abuse at the hands of fellow Israelites. God’s people must not show any sign that they are becoming like the Egyptians, who oppressed them. This includes both in how they worship and in how they treat others, whether fellow Israelites or aliens living among them.
Verse 28 forms the conclusion to this section. I follow both Sprinkle and Brichto in saying that this verse is not an independent law but the conclusion to the laws concerning the disadvantaged.23 The warning to the Israelites not to blaspheme God or curse the rulers pertains to the previously stated laws. Blasphemy should not be understood as simply some abstract verbal assault on God, but a failure to follow God’s law. So, too, cursing the rulers shows contempt for civil authorities whose job it is to uphold God’s law.
3. Worship: offerings, firstborn, holiness (22:29–31). The Israelites are reminded here that their best belongs to God. Verse 29 refers to more than simply grain and wine offerings. The Hebrew is difficult, but it literally says “your fullness and your dripping,” likely meaning the firstfruits of the field and the vine. Don’t hold the best for yourself, but give it to God.
The same holds for the firstborn of Israel’s sons. We have already seen in 13:1–16 that the firstborn belong to God, which means they must be sacrificed. Of course, a human firstborn was to be redeemed with (i.e., substituted by) a lamb, as could a firstborn donkey (13:12–13). This law, therefore, is a reiteration of the one found earlier in Exodus, and we should assume that the passing reference here should be read in light of its fuller explication in chapter 13.24 Firstborn cattle and sheep also belong to God, but they must stay with their mothers for seven days and given over on the eighth day. There is a clear parallel here with circumcision on the eighth day (Gen. 17:12), another type of dedication to God. This period of time likely represents a period of completeness after which the subject is adequately “prepared” to be given to God.25
Verse 31 contains another reminder—that Israel is to be God’s “holy people” (an echo of 19:6). Actually, the Hebrew here has “holy men” rather than “holy people” (goy) as in 19:6 (see comments there), but the ideas are congruent.
But what are we to make of the specific law mentioned in verse 31b? Why should the meat of torn animals be such an issue? This law must be read in light of what we see in Leviticus 17:15 and 22:8. Eating meat torn by wild animals (carrion) makes one unclean. Moreover, priests specifically are prohibited from such practice (22:8). This priestly practice is a fitting injunction for all Israel, which is a “kingdom of priests.” Why eating torn meat results in uncleanness is not explained here or elsewhere in the Old Testament, unless we understand such eating to be in violation of the law against eating meat with blood in it (see 17:11–14). It may also be another comment on pagan practices from which Israel should distance itself.
4. Social responsibility: testimony in court, an enemy’s animal, oppression (23:1–9). The final cycle of laws pertaining to social responsibility focuses mainly on matters of legal justice. As with other laws we have seen in the Book of the Covenant, but more explicitly here, there must have been some sort of developed system of filing grievances, although the Old Testament gives us little to go on to fill out the picture.
Verses 1–3 are apodictic laws, that is, simple commands (“do not . . .”), as opposed to the case laws (“if . . . then . . .”). Together with the apodictic laws of verses 6–8, these pertain to giving testimony in court. When called upon to give testimony one must not side with either the “wicked man,” the crowd, or, perhaps somewhat surprisingly, even a poor man, simply for the sake of doing so or by giving into some pressure.
The “wicked man” referred to in verse 1 is a misleading translation. The Hebrew rašaʿ in legal contexts refers simply to the perpetrator of the crime, that is, the guilty party. Hence, the man’s “wickedness” is not a general moral indictment, but must be understood in the context of legal matters. The godly Israelite is to make no attempt at perverting justice by making the guilty look innocent. This law, and the others that follow, are explications of the ninth commandment: “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor.”
It is, I suppose, always tempting to follow the crowd. As is typical of the Book of the Covenant, we are not given details as to possible motives one might have for following the crowd, but the scene is depicted nonetheless. If one is called upon to testify in a trial, justice can never be served if the witness gives in to social pressure and simply sides with the majority. God’s people are called upon to do what is right, not what feels right.
Verse 3 is a bit surprising in the context of other laws we have seen in the Book of the Covenant. The rights of the poor are emphasized, but here the Israelites are warned not to take this to the extreme. Some commentators, including the editors of Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia, suggest replacing the word “poor” with “great,” that is, those of good social standing. This will bring the law in verse 3 in line with the tenor of the Book of the Covenant as a whole. It is tempting to make this change, since the difference between “poor” and “great” in Hebrew is simply one letter (dl vs. gdl, respectively). There is, however, no manuscript evidence of any textual corruption. Moreover, no one should assume that the rights of the poor are emphasized to the point that favoritism can be shown them! This is no more justice than is abuse of the poor. Note also Leviticus 19:15 (although the Hebrew is different): “Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly.”
Verse 3 should not strike us as odd. God is not “on the side of the poor no matter what.” Rather, God is just. As we have noted elsewhere, the implicit critique of modern liberation theology is clear. Verse 3 must, however, be read in conjunction with verse 6. Although the poor are not to be shown favoritism, they are not to be denied justice either. Their case cannot be kept from court simply because they are poor and of little account in society. All of Israel is God’s, and all are to be treated equally.
Verse 7 is the inverse of verse 1. The just Israelite who follows God’s law will not give testimony that will make a guilty man look innocent (v. 1), nor will he make an innocent man look guilty (v. 7). To do the latter will lead to God’s punishment. One common reason for perverting justice, in the ancient world as well as today, is bribery (v. 8). But God’s justice does not have a price tag. One must not be tempted by personal material gain to subvert Israel’s social-religious structure.
Verses 4–5 are case laws. They envision situations in which one Israelite should go out of his way to help another. In fact, you are even to help your enemy. The identity of the enemy is not given, but we should presume that these laws concern members of the Israelite community, not foreigners. These verses are aimed not at the welfare of animals but that of the enemy. “Love your enemies” is not a sentiment found only in the New Testament. Why are these laws placed here in the context of legal practice? It is not clear. Perhaps verses 4–5 are striking examples of the impartiality commanded in the surrounding laws.26 The unity that God’s covenant people are to express toward each other extends even to those who do not like each other. Again, what is right, not how one feels, determines behavior.
Finally, it is worth pointing out that verses 4–5 do not express enforceable law. This is what makes these two case laws different from most of the others in the Book of the Covenant. No penalty is mentioned, since the behavior described can hardly be monitored. These laws aim further than mere legal dealings. They get closer to the heart of the matter: treating all Israelites with love, whether one loves them or not.
The final verse of this section repeats the essence of 22:21. In this context, however, it serves as a fitting conclusion to 23:1–8: Israelites are to deal fairly (lovingly) with everyone in their midst: fellow countrymen, whether poor or rich (vv. 1–3, 6–8); enemies (vv. 4–5); and even non-Israelites, the “aliens.” As a kingdom of priests, they are not to oppress those to whom they are to reflect the glory of God. Having experienced firsthand “man’s inhumanity to man,” they are to turn around and exemplify the opposite behavior: God’s love for all.
5. Worship: Sabbaths and festivals (23:10–19). The Book of the Covenant ends with a number of regulations concerning worship, namely, laws regarding the Sabbath, the three annual festivals, and stipulations regarding sacrifice, presumably relating to these festivals.
The Book of the Covenant has in view the Israelites as settled in Canaan. The purpose of these laws is to prepare them for proper conduct after entering the land, which, were it not for subsequent rebellion, would have occurred soon after the giving of these laws. It is from such a perspective that verses 10–12 should be understood. Already at this stage in their journey, the Israelites are being prepared to respect the land God is giving them and the people living there.
The stated purpose for leaving the land unplowed during the seventh year is so that the poor can eat their fill. This “Sabbath year” is an extension of the fourth commandment (see Lev. 25:1–7). Note, therefore, that the means by which the Israelites are to “keep it holy” (see Ex. 20:8) is not by offering the produce of the seventh year to God, in the form of a cultic offering, but by leaving it for the poor. The emphasis we have seen on protection of the disadvantaged throughout the Book of the Covenant is strikingly evident here. Allowing even wild animals to eat of the produce may indicate a broader humanitarianism implicit in this law.
Verse 12 refers to the Sabbath day and essentially repeats what we have seen in 20:8–11. As reticent as the author of Exodus is generally, such repetition underscores the importance the Sabbath plays in this book. There is, however, an interesting difference between this passage and the fourth commandment. In 20:11, the motivation for ceasing work is the pattern of creation: God himself rested on the seventh day, so Israel should as well. In 23:12, however, the motive is to “refresh” beasts of burden, slaves, and aliens.27 We should be careful not to pit the humanitarian concerns of 23:12 against the more “theological” motive of 20:11. They most certainly complement each other.
Verse 13 serves as a sort of transition to the cultic matters of verses 14–19. But it is not clear whether “everything” refers to the entire content of the Book of the Covenant, the laws covered thus far, the immediately preceding Sabbath laws, or something else. From a syntactical point of view, it is difficult to separate the first sentence of verse 13 (in the NIV) from the following two. The Hebrew word translated “everything” is kol, a word that means many things (e.g., all, each, every, both) and certainly need not imply “every last thing.” In other words, the meaning of this word is determined by its context. I suggest, therefore, that it serves to introduce the following topic: faithfulness to God. Specifically, Israel is not to invoke the names of other gods—a reiteration of the first two commandments.
It is fitting to end the Book of the Covenant with a reminder to the Israelites that they are a worshiping community, a reality that extends to every area of life, but that is most clearly seen in the ceremonies by which they worship God. The word “invoke” (v. 13) is a translation of the Hebrew Hiphil verb hazkir. It is used elsewhere in Exodus only in 20:24, where the NIV translates it “cause . . . to be honored.” God’s name is to be honored by the Israelites. Such honor must not be given to other gods. They are not even to speak the names of these gods.
This leads us to a number of cultic regulations that the Israelites are commanded to keep (vv. 14–17; these same ceremonies will again be mentioned in 34:18–26, after the golden calf episode). The three annual feasts correspond to three different stages in Israel’s agricultural year. The command to keep these festivals is given in verses 14 and 17, thus framing the description of the festivals themselves.
The first feast is the Feast of Unleavened Bread. This ceremony is to be understood in conjunction with the Passover night described in Exodus 12. We have already seen in 12:17–20 how no bread with yeast is to be eaten from the fourteenth to the twenty-first day of the first month (called Abib, 23:15; cf. 12:2). Lack of yeast symbolizes the haste with which the Israelites were commanded to leave Egypt. This ceremony is a yearly commemoration of that deliverance. The allusion to offerings at the end of verse 15 indicates that the Feast of Unleavened Bread is more than a private celebration of Passover, but a community festival complete with offerings of some sort. The offerings of verse 15 are most likely agricultural in nature.
The Feast of Harvest is also referred to as the Feast of Weeks (34:22). It was held seven weeks after the first festival. Jewish tradition connects this feast to the giving of the law on Sinai, which is a tempting connection in view of the fact that the Israelites arrived at Sinai two months to the day after they left Egypt. Still, the Sinai/Feast of Harvest connection finds no direct support in the Old Testament.28 This feast entails offering to God the firstfruits of one’s produce, the full harvest coming in the fall during the Feast of Ingathering (v. 16). Thus, it symbolizes the harvest that is to come. It is a tangible, concrete evidence of what is ahead. (This is why—to digress for a moment—Paul refers to Christ’s resurrection as “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” [1 Cor. 15:20]. Christ’s resurrection is the tangible, concrete evidence of the full harvest to come, the resurrection of all believers, Paul’s general topic in 1 Cor. 15.)
The Feasts of Harvest and of Ingathering (the latter also referred to as the Feast of Booths, to symbolize Israel’s living in temporary shelters; see Lev. 23:43) are intimately tied to the possession of the land, as we have seen throughout the Book of the Covenant. The land’s ability to produce is a gift from God. Therefore, it is not to be abused (Ex. 23:10–11). Moreover, it is at these agriculturally significant times that Israel is to be reminded that all these gifts come from God. Israel is truly to thank God for its “daily bread.” Every element of life, whether social or agricultural, is to be lived out in God’s presence. He is the source and the goal of everything they do. The law comes from God, and through obedience Israel will move closer to him.
The four final laws given in verses 18–19 are somewhat odd, but they should not be thought of as detached from the previous laws.29 The injunction against yeast (v. 18) certainly reflects the Feast of Unleavened Bread. Nor may the fat remain until morning (see 12:9–10). The reference to firstfruits (23:19) likewise suggests a connection to the Feast of Harvest. The Israelites must make sure they bring the best of the firstfruits as an offering to “the house of the LORD” (an apparent reference to the tabernacle, the major topic of conversation in chs. 25–40).
The final law in the Book of the Covenant is one that for some captures the obscurity (and contemporary irrelevance) of the Israelite legal system: “Do not cook a young goat in its mother’s milk.” What does this mean? The best we can do is guess. It seems to be tied somehow to the Feast of Ingathering, since the previous laws in verses 18–19 are linked to the other feasts. But this does not really help us in understanding the law itself. A number of explanations have been suggested, but they are all speculative.30 In the final analysis, the original meaning of this law remains obscure, and we will make no attempt to nail it down. It seems to have been a practice of Israel’s neighbors as is suggested in a Ugaritic text, so it may be that this injunction is a polemic against pagan practices.31
Bridging Contexts
THE LAW AND the Christian. When we as Christians turn to the Book of the Covenant, our attention is focused sooner or later on the relevance of these laws for the Christian life. This, of course, is a matter well worth addressing, but we must be careful not to be premature. What will properly bridge the ancient and modern contexts is, first, an understanding of the Book of the Covenant in its own context, which is the book of Exodus specifically as well as the Old Testament as a whole, and then the meaning of the law in light of the coming of Christ.
(1) Within the context of Exodus, as we have seen above, the Book of the Covenant is part of a triad of concepts that dominate the book as a whole: redemption, worship, law. Neither in Exodus nor anywhere else in the Old Testament should the law be viewed in the abstract.
Obedience to law is something God requires of his people, not just so that they have something to do, but that they may have a proper relationship with him. It is because God has redeemed Israel that he is worthy of their obedience, and that obedience has both vertical and horizontal dimensions. And proper worship of God is not left to Israel’s whim, nor is it to be something that is simply styled after the manner in which Israel’s neighbors worship their gods. Rather, it is important that a major component of the Book of the Covenant be regulations concerning worship. We must remember the refrain of the Exodus narrative itself: “Let my people go, so that they may worship me.” Israel is a worshiping community, and the Book of the Covenant contains the stipulations that direct the Israelites as they perform that function.
Interwoven with these vertically oriented stipulations are laws that govern Israel’s conduct among themselves. It is wrong to divorce these “social” laws from the same context in which we view the laws on worship that make up the rest of the Book of the Covenant. The Book of the Covenant is one body of law. It is in its entirety Israel’s response to the God of redemption. Its structure is, in this respect, a fuller expression of Jesus’ words in Matthew 22:37–40. In a test by an “expert in the law,” Jesus was once asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus responded with these familiar words:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.
We see this already in the Book of the Covenant: a vertical and horizontal dimension to the law.
The law given to Israel on Mount Sinai is an event for which God’s people have been prepared. It is not an afterthought; it is the purpose for their redemption. There are two things to be kept in mind about the place of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus. (a) Law is a response to redemption, not a precondition for redemption, a point made repeatedly in previous chapters. (b) Law is a positive undertaking for Israel. It is not a burden, but liberation, freedom. It is God’s pattern of vertical and horizontal conduct for his people. Since the Israelites have been redeemed, it is now a path toward a fuller realization of God’s universal plan of redemption, a plan that will only truly come into its own with the coming of Christ.
(2) But what of the broader context in which to understand the law, the Old Testament as a whole? To be sure, a number of the laws contained in the Book of the Covenant are found elsewhere in the Old Testament, at least in substance (Deuteronomy, Leviticus, Psalms, the Prophets). But merely noting the repetition of some laws here and there will not help us understand what purpose they have in God’s overarching scheme of redemption.
When we frame the discussion this way, we are invoking an issue that has separated Christians from Jews—and from each other—for two thousand years: the meaning and significance of the law. How (or even if!) the laws of the Book of the Covenant are to be applied here and now is a question that can be addressed only after this preliminary question is addressed. Applying this or that law is a risky endeavor without first considering the Christian framework within which Old Testament law as a whole should be understood.
The application of the Book of the Covenant will be left for the Contemporary Significance section, whereas here we will attempt to provide the proper framework for understanding this unit. The problem with such a discussion, however, is that it is difficult to get one’s arms around the entire issue. Any topic that has been so debated over the centuries and that so many have found difficult to resolve must therefore be a tricky and nuanced topic. What follows is a general outline of thinking generated by our observations on the role of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus.
What we have seen above with respect to the Book of the Covenant in the context of the Exodus from Egypt is also true of law in general in the Old Testament as a whole. (1) It is a “post-redemptive” phenomenon. (2) It is not legalistic, in the sense in which many Christians use the term, but a gift from God.
(1) It is universally true throughout the Old Testament that the law is Israel’s possession. It is meant to be obeyed by God’s people. The nations surrounding Israel—the Egyptians, Assyrians, Canaanites, or Babylonians—are never condemned for their failure to capitulate to the Sinaitic law. They are rather condemned essentially because of their treatment of the Israelites, specifically for their attempts at annihilating Israel. This much is clear, for example, by looking at the so-called “oracles against the nations” in Isaiah 13–23 (excluding the prophecy about Jerusalem in ch. 22) and Jeremiah 46–51.
These nations are judged because of specific behavior that affects Israel’s existence as the people of God. They are judged because they want to destroy Israel through war. This, obviously, God cannot allow. They are also judged because of idolatry. What ignites God’s anger, however, is not the fact that such idolatry breaks such laws as Exodus 20:3–6 or 22:20. These are Israel’s laws. The problem with the nations’ idolatry is that it infests the true worship of the true God that Israel is supposed to exemplify. If such false worship were adopted in any way by Israel—a constant temptation throughout her history—this would lead to Israel’s destruction.
These, then, are the reasons the nations meet with God’s displeasure. It must be remembered that it is the nations that God ultimately wants to redeem (cf. Gen. 12:3). Hence, God’s judgment against them must be understood as a function of their direct opposition to his intention to create for himself a people belonging to him, whose influence will then spread to the ends of the earth. When we read the Old Testament, therefore, with its “heavy emphasis” on law, we should not think of this emphasis as being in any way opposed to grace. Grace (redemption) precedes law. This is why the law applies to God’s people only. This is no less true of law in the Old Testament in general as it is of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus.
(2) The second point, touched on elsewhere in this commentary, bears repeating. The law was never a burden. It became burdensome when Israel ceased obeying, but this is simply a consequence of disobedience. To be sure, Israel’s initial meeting with God on Mount Sinai produced great fear in their hearts, but that is because they came face-to-face with God on his holy mountain, not because they were given laws to obey. True, it took time for the Israelites to get used to the fact that their covenant, redeeming God made demands on them. The initial reception of these commands was not met with tremendous enthusiasm, although the people did unanimously pledge themselves to obedience (24:3, 7). Moreover, within a brief period we see the Israelites blatantly disregarding God’s law in chapter 32 (golden calf episode).
Such an attitude toward the law is a recurring theme throughout the Old Testament, but we must remember that this is a function of Israel’s sin. That the law may have seemed to the Israelites from time to time as an annoying or even oppressive burden is not a property of law as such. In time, Israel came to learn more deeply that the law was a gift, not a poison. Or, in the words of Deuteronomy 32:47: “They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.” The Old Testament is replete with passages that extol the law as a thing not only to be obeyed, but to be studied and loved (e.g., Ps. 119).
As we read the many stipulations that make up the Book of the Covenant, this is not a lull in the action. We as Christians may look on these laws as an intrusion in the narrative that may be profitably skipped over. For ancient Israelites, however, the law on Mount Sinai represents the beginning of the climax of the book, a climax that carries through to the end of the book with the regulations regarding the construction of the tabernacle. Rather than a collective sigh or show of indifference, the ears of the original audience would have perked up at this stage. Now they can know what God, their Savior, wants them to do, in their conduct both with him and with each other. These are not just idle words, but life itself.
(3) Yet we cannot leave the matter there. That the law in the Old Testament is so highly esteemed is difficult for many Christians to square with what certainly appears to be a negative evaluation of the law in the New Testament. One does not need to search far in the New Testament to find critical remarks about the law. The following is a small sampling of passages:
He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. (2 Cor. 3:6)
Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin. But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known. . . . (Rom. 3:19–21)
For we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from observing the law. (Rom. 3:28)
It was not through law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise that he would be heir of the world, but through the righteousness that comes by faith. For if those who live by law are heirs, faith has no value and the promise is worthless, because law brings wrath. And where there is no law there is no transgression. (Rom. 4:13–15)
When we phrase the discussion this way, we have entered a debate that has been raging since the beginning of Christianity: What is the relationship between the law and the gospel? The fact that Paul devoted so much attention to it in his letters indicates that it was a frequent and necessary topic of discussion in the first century. That the law is a positive, liberating element in the Old Testament is beyond debate. But likewise, the ineffectiveness of the law in view of the coming of Christ is nonnegotiable as well. How can the two be held together?
When we keep in mind the magnitude of this issue, it becomes clear that the best that can be done here is to give some suggestive, “big picture” types of comments to bring the issue into better focus and to lead us into the subject of application in the following section. As I see it, a proper understanding of the Old Testament in light of the coming of Christ should keep in mind the following.32
(a) The law is not a wholly negative entity in the New Testament. One cannot speak of a sweeping law/gospel dichotomy that puts the Old Testament and New Testament economies at odds. Paul’s own view of the law, in fact, is complex and resists simplistic evaluation. He has both positive and negative statements to make about its role for those who are “in Christ.” We must remember that mixed in with his “negative” statements on the law are positive comments (e.g., a reference to the fifth commandment in Eph. 6:1–3 and to Ex. 22:28 in Acts 23:4–5).
(b) Jesus saw himself and his mission, in some sense, as the fulfillment of Old Testament law. He tells us in Matthew 5:17–20 how he relates to the law:
Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.
This is not the easiest of passages to understand, but several general conclusions can be drawn. (i) Jesus was not “anti-law.” He saw himself as fulfilling the law of Moses and the teaching of the prophets (v. 17). (ii) In some sense, even the very details of the law are of vital importance. In fact, they will remain “until heaven and earth disappear” (v. 18). The law is not to be taken lightly. (iii) There are consequences for those who do not obey or who teach others not to obey. These will be “least in the kingdom of heaven” (v. 19). The “kingdom of heaven” refers to those who are a part of God’s kingdom here and now. It is also clear that Jesus is not speaking here of what to do in order to enter this kingdom, but of proper conduct for those already a part of the kingdom. As in the Old Testament, law is not a condition for entering God’s family, but the rules for those who are in God’s family. (iv) True obedience to the law, which is what Jesus sets out to explain throughout the Sermon on the Mount (chs. 5–7), exceeds that of the so-called experts (Pharisees), who understood law merely in the outward, legalistic sense.
(c) Paul’s statements about the law should not be understood apart from the context in which he addressed those statements. The apostle was not engaged in abstract theological speculation, nor was he concerned to discuss “the concept of the law.” He was rather a pastor-theologian addressing particular people with particular problems. Extreme condemnation of the law, such as we find in his letter to Galatians, must be understood in connection with the Judaizing influence in Galatia. Hence, at least part of Paul’s polemics against law is really an argument against an improper estimation of the law’s effectiveness in first-century Judaism. Such a contextual understanding of Paul’s statements on the law also holds for as “systematic” a letter as Romans. Paul here is writing to a church with which he is likely not familiar, and his concern is to make sure they are well rooted in the basics of the gospel, which in his day (as in ours) was always running the risk of losing its grace-centered core.
(d) Having said all this, however, we must take care not to lose sight of the radical nature of the gospel. However positively or ambiguously the New Testament portrays the relationship between law and gospel, the coming of Christ inaugurated an era that rendered obsolete any soteriological scheme, including the Old Testament, that proceeded apart from that event. There is, in other words, both continuity and discontinuity between the era before the coming of Christ and after his coming in terms of the relationship between law and gospel. This is certainly not to say that the gospel “corrected” the legalism of the Old Testament. But it is to say that the death and resurrection of Christ were something new and amazing, even if they were at the same time the ultimate goal for which God had been preparing his people throughout the Old Testament. It is, to use Paul’s words, “a righteousness from God, apart from law . . . to which the Law and the Prophets testify” (Rom. 3:21, italics added).
What then is the Christian’s response to the law? We are saved not by any of our own efforts, but by Christ’s supreme effort on the cross. But as Christians, we take God’s law to heart, not legalistically, but as a pattern of conduct in God’s world. That pattern is perhaps best expressed in the “law of love” (Matt. 5:43–48; 7:12; 22:40), for as we love others, we will be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect (5:48).
Contemporary Significance
THE LAW AND THE CHRISTIAN. To this point I have resisted speaking specifically about the actual laws in the Book of the Covenant. This has been intentional. It is important to communicate that the Book of the Covenant is not meant to be mined today for those laws that seem applicable. It is hard to see how we as Christians can do theological justification to Exodus 20:22–23:19 when we take a sampling of a few laws that seem to be generally compatible in today’s world while ignoring or even downplaying those that do not. We are all comfortable with “Do not blaspheme God or curse the ruler of your people” (22:28). Some of us might like to see the death penalty for bestiality enforced (22:19). But few of us would feel comfortable with treating virgin daughters as property (22:16–17). And how many Christian bankers would relieve their struggling Christian brothers and sisters from paying interest on a loan (22:25)? Indeed, would they even get past the application process?!
The law reflects the nature of God, but it does so in a historical context. The Book of the Covenant is God’s law, but it reveals God to a people living at a particular point in time and for whom he has a particular purpose. One should not simply assume, therefore, that these laws necessarily “apply” to our world today. To say this is not to denigrate the law, but to understand it properly. Those who insist that these laws must be kept today will likely be inconsistent when they themselves attempt to obey them, particularly if they do not own slaves, bulls, oxen, sheep, or donkeys (frequent topics throughout 21:2–22:15).
Of course, one way around this matter is to argue that it is not the laws themselves that need to be applied, but the principles underlying them. This is a common way of handling Old Testament law in genera l, so it is likely not without merit, but I will not take this approach here. Little would be added by repeating the efforts of others. But more important, looking for principles does not really settle the matter of how the law ought to be applied. In fact it introduces a number of problems of its own.
(1) Just what is a “principle” that underlies a law? It is not always easy to discern with any confidence the principle on which to base a present-day application. This is so for three reasons. (a) Many of the laws are too vague or difficult to understand. We have already seen this problem with respect to a number of laws in the Book of the Covenant (e.g., 21:22, the law often understood as support for biblical condemnation of abortion). Since it is difficult to understand the precise nature of this and other laws, to what extent can principles be derived from them?
(b) Some of the laws have a clear underlying principle, but the principles are so general as to be of little use as a guide for conduct. An example is 22:20: “Whoever sacrifices to any god other than the LORD must be destroyed.” The underlying principle might be something like, “Yahweh is the only God to be worshiped,” but discerning this underlying principle does not give any guidance as to how this principle should be applied today. Moreover, one does not need this law to make the point. In other words, in what sense can we say that we are applying the Book of the Covenant when this law refers to sacrifice and the death penalty? What good is a vague principle detached from the specifics from which the principle itself is derived?
(c) Some laws are so irrelevant that they resist any application, even the law’s principle. Finding a timeless principle in 22:29–31, for example, stretches common sense, unless one appeals to a general, vague notion of holiness (see v. 31). But applying such a principle would be done essentially at the expense of the specifics of the law itself.
(2) Another reason for not looking for principles in the Book of the Covenant is that I doubt if this is the reason these laws were given in the first place. These laws were specific to Israel’s impending entrance into the Promised Land. They were given to serve a purpose for the Israelites at this particular stage in redemptive history. Moses did not say, “Here are some specific laws God wants you to obey, but remember to look for the underlying principles and struggle to apply the principles to your lives.” In fact, the reason why principles are sought at all is because of the obvious time-boundedness of the laws, combined with the assumption that since Israel applied these laws, we must do so in some sense as well. The appeal to principles seems the only way, but in doing so we should acknowledge that our application is based on something the original audience would likely not have recognized. Such an approach to obedience to the law may “feel” biblical, but it actually requires a “rewriting” of the text to be able to live by it.
(3) A final reason why I do not feel fully comfortable with looking for principles in the Book of the Covenant is because such an approach does not struggle enough with what the death and resurrection of Christ has to say about law. Again, we are treading on eggshells when we discuss the relationship between the law and the gospel, but tread every Christian must. Does extracting principles from the Old Testament law do justice to the significance of what Jesus did? Is this the best we can do, living as we do in the brilliant light of the resurrection?
These are questions worth asking, but to this point I have been hedging about how precisely to apply the law. The reason for my hesitancy is simple: The New Testament opinion on the matter seems ambiguous. The very fact that Paul in his letters cites specific laws certainly implies that the law is something that can, or even should, be brought into the Christian life, and nothing I have said to this point is directed at undermining this. The question I have is not so much whether the law is relevant, but how. That is the difficult question. I assume it says something to us on some level, but what is that level? How do we get the law from there to here?
To put the problem another way, it is the data of the New Testament itself that complicate the matter. The New Testament is not at all clear on how the law is to be applied by Christians. It presents at least three models. This is the first point to be acknowledged in the debate. (a) In the New Testament occasional letters, sometimes the law seems to have no place (e.g., Rom. 10:4). (b) Yet at other times Paul authoritatively cites a specific law as binding on Christians (e.g., Eph. 6:2). (c) And in at least one instance he even seems to apply a principle. In 1 Corinthians 9:9 (see also 1 Tim. 5:18), Paul cites Deuteronomy 25:4: “Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.” What does this law mean as far as Paul is concerned?
Is it about oxen that God is concerned? Surely he says this for us, doesn’t he? Yes, this was written for us, because when the plowman plows and the thresher threshes, they ought to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest. If we have sown spiritual seed among you, is it too much if we reap a material harvest from you? If others have this right of support from you, shouldn’t we have it all the more?
But we did not use this right. On the contrary, we put up with anything rather than hinder the gospel of Christ. (1 Cor. 9:9–12)
Paul insists that the point of the law is some underlying principle and not the specifics of the law itself. Of course, one could simply argue that Paul is appealing to this law for rhetorical effect, a fruitful avenue of inquiry in my view, but this may be more skirting the issue than an honest attempt to deal with this passage.
We should not attempt to apply the Book of the Covenant until we have some idea of how we are warranted to do so in light of the resurrection. Yet, when we turn to the pages of the New Testament for guidance, we find the three different models just listed. The last thing I want to do is add to the confusion by suggesting an approach to the law that will cover the diverse data we find in the New Testament. After all, there is a reason why this has been a topic of ongoing debate for the entire existence of the church: It is a tricky topic!
When all is said and done, when I read the Book of the Covenant, the first thought that pops into my mind is not, “How do I bring these laws into my life; how do I follow them today?” Rather, the first thing I think of is, “Now I see better how God dealt with his people soon after the Exodus.” This is not to say that none of these laws has any relevance to our conduct, but I am not about to draw up a list of laws that apply or those that don’t. Nor am I going to abstract principles from these laws to apply to current situations. I remain convinced that what we as Christians are supposed to glean from the Book of the Covenant is an understanding of the nature of God and what he requires of his people, what Jesus summarized as loving God and treating your neighbor as yourself.
The Book of the Covenant teaches us that God requires his people to behave properly toward God and with each other. This is true religion. This is true worship. And, as most Christians understand, what constitutes proper behavior is more often than not a matter of spiritual wisdom and Christian maturity rather than having an exhaustive manual to cover each scenario (even the Book of the Covenant does not do that!). And, most important, as with the Israelites, the Christian’s view of the law must first be rooted in the knowledge of what God has already done, apart from the law. He has called us from darkness into light.
Original Meaning
A. Worship: Idols and Altars (20:22–26)
VERSE 22 BEGINS a new speech between God and Moses. The injunction against idols and altars follows upon the theophany of 20:18–19. The people are afraid of God, and it is this sight that serves as motivation in verse 22 not to make false gods or improper altars.
Verse 23 is a reiteration of the first two commandments (20:3–6). It goes without saying that this reiteration indicates their importance for understanding what follows, not only through 20:26 but to the end of the Book of the Covenant. Both the Ten Commandments and the Book of the Covenant begin the same way, with a declaration that Yahweh and Yahweh alone is worthy of Israel’s worship and is therefore to be obeyed.
In one sense, the connection between the two injunctions of 20:23–26 is obvious: Both idols and altars concern proper worship. But whereas the worship of God alone has clear justification in the context, the rules concerning altars is not only somewhat unexpected but not at all clear as to its significance. In view of the fact that the bulk of the Book of the Covenant concerns social regulations, perhaps a word or two concerning such matters could have been voiced here or even a condensation of commandments 5–10 (e.g., love your neighbor). Instead, we see a cryptic (for us) command about the proper and improper construction of altars: An altar is to be made of earth or of stone; if the latter, it must be uncut stone rather than dressed stone, and no steps are to be built.
Why are instructions on altars needed here at all? After all, the specifics of sacrifice play a minor role at best throughout Exodus in general and the Book of the Covenant specifically. Still, talk of sacrifice is not wholly unexpected. For one thing, these laws and the book of Exodus as a whole are meant to prepare Israel for entering the land and living there in accordance with God’s purpose. The sacrificial system will play a major role from here on out in Israel’s life. Note also that the Book of the Covenant ends with a brief description of the three festivals (23:14–17) and some miscellaneous cultic matters (23:18–19), so such things are not wholly foreign to the subject matter of the Book of the Covenant. Finally, the fact that the sacrifices mentioned are burnt and fellowship offerings is significant, for these are the offerings associated with the worship of God (see Lev. 1 and 3), which is the topic of 20:23.
As for the specific regulations, a fair degree of speculation must accompany any comments. Why only altars of earth or uncut stone? And why no steps? The most reasonable explanation is that these stipulations are anti-Canaanite.6 By building their altars this way, the Israelites are making a definitive statement that the worship of their God is different from the practices of their neighbors. Moreover, the problem with stepped altars is that those walking up the steps would have their “nakedness . . . exposed” (v. 26). This is not simply a matter of prudishness or social embarrassment; it may also be a polemic against Canaanite cultic practices, which sometimes included sexual rituals.7 Later in Israel’s history, stepped altars were used, but God had instructed the priests to wear linen undergarments to avoid indecent exposure (cf. Lev. 6:10; 9:22).
The central point of this section is that the attention the writer pays to worship at the outset of the Book of the Covenant indicates the proper context within which to view the laws that follow. There is, in other words, a triad of (1) redemption from Egypt that prepared Israel for meeting God, (2) proper worship of God, and (3) law. These three elements are not to be dissociated from each other if any one of these elements is to be understood properly.
Bridging Contexts
THE LAW AND the Christian. When we as Christians turn to the Book of the Covenant, our attention is focused sooner or later on the relevance of these laws for the Christian life. This, of course, is a matter well worth addressing, but we must be careful not to be premature. What will properly bridge the ancient and modern contexts is, first, an understanding of the Book of the Covenant in its own context, which is the book of Exodus specifically as well as the Old Testament as a whole, and then the meaning of the law in light of the coming of Christ.
(1) Within the context of Exodus, as we have seen above, the Book of the Covenant is part of a triad of concepts that dominate the book as a whole: redemption, worship, law. Neither in Exodus nor anywhere else in the Old Testament should the law be viewed in the abstract.
Obedience to law is something God requires of his people, not just so that they have something to do, but that they may have a proper relationship with him. It is because God has redeemed Israel that he is worthy of their obedience, and that obedience has both vertical and horizontal dimensions. And proper worship of God is not left to Israel’s whim, nor is it to be something that is simply styled after the manner in which Israel’s neighbors worship their gods. Rather, it is important that a major component of the Book of the Covenant be regulations concerning worship. We must remember the refrain of the Exodus narrative itself: “Let my people go, so that they may worship me.” Israel is a worshiping community, and the Book of the Covenant contains the stipulations that direct the Israelites as they perform that function.
Interwoven with these vertically oriented stipulations are laws that govern Israel’s conduct among themselves. It is wrong to divorce these “social” laws from the same context in which we view the laws on worship that make up the rest of the Book of the Covenant. The Book of the Covenant is one body of law. It is in its entirety Israel’s response to the God of redemption. Its structure is, in this respect, a fuller expression of Jesus’ words in Matthew 22:37–40. In a test by an “expert in the law,” Jesus was once asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus responded with these familiar words:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.
We see this already in the Book of the Covenant: a vertical and horizontal dimension to the law.
The law given to Israel on Mount Sinai is an event for which God’s people have been prepared. It is not an afterthought; it is the purpose for their redemption. There are two things to be kept in mind about the place of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus. (a) Law is a response to redemption, not a precondition for redemption, a point made repeatedly in previous chapters. (b) Law is a positive undertaking for Israel. It is not a burden, but liberation, freedom. It is God’s pattern of vertical and horizontal conduct for his people. Since the Israelites have been redeemed, it is now a path toward a fuller realization of God’s universal plan of redemption, a plan that will only truly come into its own with the coming of Christ.
(2) But what of the broader context in which to understand the law, the Old Testament as a whole? To be sure, a number of the laws contained in the Book of the Covenant are found elsewhere in the Old Testament, at least in substance (Deuteronomy, Leviticus, Psalms, the Prophets). But merely noting the repetition of some laws here and there will not help us understand what purpose they have in God’s overarching scheme of redemption.
When we frame the discussion this way, we are invoking an issue that has separated Christians from Jews—and from each other—for two thousand years: the meaning and significance of the law. How (or even if!) the laws of the Book of the Covenant are to be applied here and now is a question that can be addressed only after this preliminary question is addressed. Applying this or that law is a risky endeavor without first considering the Christian framework within which Old Testament law as a whole should be understood.
The application of the Book of the Covenant will be left for the Contemporary Significance section, whereas here we will attempt to provide the proper framework for understanding this unit. The problem with such a discussion, however, is that it is difficult to get one’s arms around the entire issue. Any topic that has been so debated over the centuries and that so many have found difficult to resolve must therefore be a tricky and nuanced topic. What follows is a general outline of thinking generated by our observations on the role of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus.
What we have seen above with respect to the Book of the Covenant in the context of the Exodus from Egypt is also true of law in general in the Old Testament as a whole. (1) It is a “post-redemptive” phenomenon. (2) It is not legalistic, in the sense in which many Christians use the term, but a gift from God.
(1) It is universally true throughout the Old Testament that the law is Israel’s possession. It is meant to be obeyed by God’s people. The nations surrounding Israel—the Egyptians, Assyrians, Canaanites, or Babylonians—are never condemned for their failure to capitulate to the Sinaitic law. They are rather condemned essentially because of their treatment of the Israelites, specifically for their attempts at annihilating Israel. This much is clear, for example, by looking at the so-called “oracles against the nations” in Isaiah 13–23 (excluding the prophecy about Jerusalem in ch. 22) and Jeremiah 46–51.
These nations are judged because of specific behavior that affects Israel’s existence as the people of God. They are judged because they want to destroy Israel through war. This, obviously, God cannot allow. They are also judged because of idolatry. What ignites God’s anger, however, is not the fact that such idolatry breaks such laws as Exodus 20:3–6 or 22:20. These are Israel’s laws. The problem with the nations’ idolatry is that it infests the true worship of the true God that Israel is supposed to exemplify. If such false worship were adopted in any way by Israel—a constant temptation throughout her history—this would lead to Israel’s destruction.
These, then, are the reasons the nations meet with God’s displeasure. It must be remembered that it is the nations that God ultimately wants to redeem (cf. Gen. 12:3). Hence, God’s judgment against them must be understood as a function of their direct opposition to his intention to create for himself a people belonging to him, whose influence will then spread to the ends of the earth. When we read the Old Testament, therefore, with its “heavy emphasis” on law, we should not think of this emphasis as being in any way opposed to grace. Grace (redemption) precedes law. This is why the law applies to God’s people only. This is no less true of law in the Old Testament in general as it is of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus.
(2) The second point, touched on elsewhere in this commentary, bears repeating. The law was never a burden. It became burdensome when Israel ceased obeying, but this is simply a consequence of disobedience. To be sure, Israel’s initial meeting with God on Mount Sinai produced great fear in their hearts, but that is because they came face-to-face with God on his holy mountain, not because they were given laws to obey. True, it took time for the Israelites to get used to the fact that their covenant, redeeming God made demands on them. The initial reception of these commands was not met with tremendous enthusiasm, although the people did unanimously pledge themselves to obedience (24:3, 7). Moreover, within a brief period we see the Israelites blatantly disregarding God’s law in chapter 32 (golden calf episode).
Such an attitude toward the law is a recurring theme throughout the Old Testament, but we must remember that this is a function of Israel’s sin. That the law may have seemed to the Israelites from time to time as an annoying or even oppressive burden is not a property of law as such. In time, Israel came to learn more deeply that the law was a gift, not a poison. Or, in the words of Deuteronomy 32:47: “They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.” The Old Testament is replete with passages that extol the law as a thing not only to be obeyed, but to be studied and loved (e.g., Ps. 119).
As we read the many stipulations that make up the Book of the Covenant, this is not a lull in the action. We as Christians may look on these laws as an intrusion in the narrative that may be profitably skipped over. For ancient Israelites, however, the law on Mount Sinai represents the beginning of the climax of the book, a climax that carries through to the end of the book with the regulations regarding the construction of the tabernacle. Rather than a collective sigh or show of indifference, the ears of the original audience would have perked up at this stage. Now they can know what God, their Savior, wants them to do, in their conduct both with him and with each other. These are not just idle words, but life itself.
(3) Yet we cannot leave the matter there. That the law in the Old Testament is so highly esteemed is difficult for many Christians to square with what certainly appears to be a negative evaluation of the law in the New Testament. One does not need to search far in the New Testament to find critical remarks about the law. The following is a small sampling of passages:
He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. (2 Cor. 3:6)
Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin. But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known. . . . (Rom. 3:19–21)
For we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from observing the law. (Rom. 3:28)
It was not through law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise that he would be heir of the world, but through the righteousness that comes by faith. For if those who live by law are heirs, faith has no value and the promise is worthless, because law brings wrath. And where there is no law there is no transgression. (Rom. 4:13–15)
When we phrase the discussion this way, we have entered a debate that has been raging since the beginning of Christianity: What is the relationship between the law and the gospel? The fact that Paul devoted so much attention to it in his letters indicates that it was a frequent and necessary topic of discussion in the first century. That the law is a positive, liberating element in the Old Testament is beyond debate. But likewise, the ineffectiveness of the law in view of the coming of Christ is nonnegotiable as well. How can the two be held together?
When we keep in mind the magnitude of this issue, it becomes clear that the best that can be done here is to give some suggestive, “big picture” types of comments to bring the issue into better focus and to lead us into the subject of application in the following section. As I see it, a proper understanding of the Old Testament in light of the coming of Christ should keep in mind the following.32
(a) The law is not a wholly negative entity in the New Testament. One cannot speak of a sweeping law/gospel dichotomy that puts the Old Testament and New Testament economies at odds. Paul’s own view of the law, in fact, is complex and resists simplistic evaluation. He has both positive and negative statements to make about its role for those who are “in Christ.” We must remember that mixed in with his “negative” statements on the law are positive comments (e.g., a reference to the fifth commandment in Eph. 6:1–3 and to Ex. 22:28 in Acts 23:4–5).
(b) Jesus saw himself and his mission, in some sense, as the fulfillment of Old Testament law. He tells us in Matthew 5:17–20 how he relates to the law:
Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.
This is not the easiest of passages to understand, but several general conclusions can be drawn. (i) Jesus was not “anti-law.” He saw himself as fulfilling the law of Moses and the teaching of the prophets (v. 17). (ii) In some sense, even the very details of the law are of vital importance. In fact, they will remain “until heaven and earth disappear” (v. 18). The law is not to be taken lightly. (iii) There are consequences for those who do not obey or who teach others not to obey. These will be “least in the kingdom of heaven” (v. 19). The “kingdom of heaven” refers to those who are a part of God’s kingdom here and now. It is also clear that Jesus is not speaking here of what to do in order to enter this kingdom, but of proper conduct for those already a part of the kingdom. As in the Old Testament, law is not a condition for entering God’s family, but the rules for those who are in God’s family. (iv) True obedience to the law, which is what Jesus sets out to explain throughout the Sermon on the Mount (chs. 5–7), exceeds that of the so-called experts (Pharisees), who understood law merely in the outward, legalistic sense.
(c) Paul’s statements about the law should not be understood apart from the context in which he addressed those statements. The apostle was not engaged in abstract theological speculation, nor was he concerned to discuss “the concept of the law.” He was rather a pastor-theologian addressing particular people with particular problems. Extreme condemnation of the law, such as we find in his letter to Galatians, must be understood in connection with the Judaizing influence in Galatia. Hence, at least part of Paul’s polemics against law is really an argument against an improper estimation of the law’s effectiveness in first-century Judaism. Such a contextual understanding of Paul’s statements on the law also holds for as “systematic” a letter as Romans. Paul here is writing to a church with which he is likely not familiar, and his concern is to make sure they are well rooted in the basics of the gospel, which in his day (as in ours) was always running the risk of losing its grace-centered core.
(d) Having said all this, however, we must take care not to lose sight of the radical nature of the gospel. However positively or ambiguously the New Testament portrays the relationship between law and gospel, the coming of Christ inaugurated an era that rendered obsolete any soteriological scheme, including the Old Testament, that proceeded apart from that event. There is, in other words, both continuity and discontinuity between the era before the coming of Christ and after his coming in terms of the relationship between law and gospel. This is certainly not to say that the gospel “corrected” the legalism of the Old Testament. But it is to say that the death and resurrection of Christ were something new and amazing, even if they were at the same time the ultimate goal for which God had been preparing his people throughout the Old Testament. It is, to use Paul’s words, “a righteousness from God, apart from law . . . to which the Law and the Prophets testify” (Rom. 3:21, italics added).
What then is the Christian’s response to the law? We are saved not by any of our own efforts, but by Christ’s supreme effort on the cross. But as Christians, we take God’s law to heart, not legalistically, but as a pattern of conduct in God’s world. That pattern is perhaps best expressed in the “law of love” (Matt. 5:43–48; 7:12; 22:40), for as we love others, we will be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect (5:48).
Contemporary Significance
THE LAW AND THE CHRISTIAN. To this point I have resisted speaking specifically about the actual laws in the Book of the Covenant. This has been intentional. It is important to communicate that the Book of the Covenant is not meant to be mined today for those laws that seem applicable. It is hard to see how we as Christians can do theological justification to Exodus 20:22–23:19 when we take a sampling of a few laws that seem to be generally compatible in today’s world while ignoring or even downplaying those that do not. We are all comfortable with “Do not blaspheme God or curse the ruler of your people” (22:28). Some of us might like to see the death penalty for bestiality enforced (22:19). But few of us would feel comfortable with treating virgin daughters as property (22:16–17). And how many Christian bankers would relieve their struggling Christian brothers and sisters from paying interest on a loan (22:25)? Indeed, would they even get past the application process?!
The law reflects the nature of God, but it does so in a historical context. The Book of the Covenant is God’s law, but it reveals God to a people living at a particular point in time and for whom he has a particular purpose. One should not simply assume, therefore, that these laws necessarily “apply” to our world today. To say this is not to denigrate the law, but to understand it properly. Those who insist that these laws must be kept today will likely be inconsistent when they themselves attempt to obey them, particularly if they do not own slaves, bulls, oxen, sheep, or donkeys (frequent topics throughout 21:2–22:15).
Of course, one way around this matter is to argue that it is not the laws themselves that need to be applied, but the principles underlying them. This is a common way of handling Old Testament law in genera l, so it is likely not without merit, but I will not take this approach here. Little would be added by repeating the efforts of others. But more important, looking for principles does not really settle the matter of how the law ought to be applied. In fact it introduces a number of problems of its own.
(1) Just what is a “principle” that underlies a law? It is not always easy to discern with any confidence the principle on which to base a present-day application. This is so for three reasons. (a) Many of the laws are too vague or difficult to understand. We have already seen this problem with respect to a number of laws in the Book of the Covenant (e.g., 21:22, the law often understood as support for biblical condemnation of abortion). Since it is difficult to understand the precise nature of this and other laws, to what extent can principles be derived from them?
(b) Some of the laws have a clear underlying principle, but the principles are so general as to be of little use as a guide for conduct. An example is 22:20: “Whoever sacrifices to any god other than the LORD must be destroyed.” The underlying principle might be something like, “Yahweh is the only God to be worshiped,” but discerning this underlying principle does not give any guidance as to how this principle should be applied today. Moreover, one does not need this law to make the point. In other words, in what sense can we say that we are applying the Book of the Covenant when this law refers to sacrifice and the death penalty? What good is a vague principle detached from the specifics from which the principle itself is derived?
(c) Some laws are so irrelevant that they resist any application, even the law’s principle. Finding a timeless principle in 22:29–31, for example, stretches common sense, unless one appeals to a general, vague notion of holiness (see v. 31). But applying such a principle would be done essentially at the expense of the specifics of the law itself.
(2) Another reason for not looking for principles in the Book of the Covenant is that I doubt if this is the reason these laws were given in the first place. These laws were specific to Israel’s impending entrance into the Promised Land. They were given to serve a purpose for the Israelites at this particular stage in redemptive history. Moses did not say, “Here are some specific laws God wants you to obey, but remember to look for the underlying principles and struggle to apply the principles to your lives.” In fact, the reason why principles are sought at all is because of the obvious time-boundedness of the laws, combined with the assumption that since Israel applied these laws, we must do so in some sense as well. The appeal to principles seems the only way, but in doing so we should acknowledge that our application is based on something the original audience would likely not have recognized. Such an approach to obedience to the law may “feel” biblical, but it actually requires a “rewriting” of the text to be able to live by it.
(3) A final reason why I do not feel fully comfortable with looking for principles in the Book of the Covenant is because such an approach does not struggle enough with what the death and resurrection of Christ has to say about law. Again, we are treading on eggshells when we discuss the relationship between the law and the gospel, but tread every Christian must. Does extracting principles from the Old Testament law do justice to the significance of what Jesus did? Is this the best we can do, living as we do in the brilliant light of the resurrection?
These are questions worth asking, but to this point I have been hedging about how precisely to apply the law. The reason for my hesitancy is simple: The New Testament opinion on the matter seems ambiguous. The very fact that Paul in his letters cites specific laws certainly implies that the law is something that can, or even should, be brought into the Christian life, and nothing I have said to this point is directed at undermining this. The question I have is not so much whether the law is relevant, but how. That is the difficult question. I assume it says something to us on some level, but what is that level? How do we get the law from there to here?
To put the problem another way, it is the data of the New Testament itself that complicate the matter. The New Testament is not at all clear on how the law is to be applied by Christians. It presents at least three models. This is the first point to be acknowledged in the debate. (a) In the New Testament occasional letters, sometimes the law seems to have no place (e.g., Rom. 10:4). (b) Yet at other times Paul authoritatively cites a specific law as binding on Christians (e.g., Eph. 6:2). (c) And in at least one instance he even seems to apply a principle. In 1 Corinthians 9:9 (see also 1 Tim. 5:18), Paul cites Deuteronomy 25:4: “Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.” What does this law mean as far as Paul is concerned?
Is it about oxen that God is concerned? Surely he says this for us, doesn’t he? Yes, this was written for us, because when the plowman plows and the thresher threshes, they ought to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest. If we have sown spiritual seed among you, is it too much if we reap a material harvest from you? If others have this right of support from you, shouldn’t we have it all the more?
But we did not use this right. On the contrary, we put up with anything rather than hinder the gospel of Christ. (1 Cor. 9:9–12)
Paul insists that the point of the law is some underlying principle and not the specifics of the law itself. Of course, one could simply argue that Paul is appealing to this law for rhetorical effect, a fruitful avenue of inquiry in my view, but this may be more skirting the issue than an honest attempt to deal with this passage.
We should not attempt to apply the Book of the Covenant until we have some idea of how we are warranted to do so in light of the resurrection. Yet, when we turn to the pages of the New Testament for guidance, we find the three different models just listed. The last thing I want to do is add to the confusion by suggesting an approach to the law that will cover the diverse data we find in the New Testament. After all, there is a reason why this has been a topic of ongoing debate for the entire existence of the church: It is a tricky topic!
When all is said and done, when I read the Book of the Covenant, the first thought that pops into my mind is not, “How do I bring these laws into my life; how do I follow them today?” Rather, the first thing I think of is, “Now I see better how God dealt with his people soon after the Exodus.” This is not to say that none of these laws has any relevance to our conduct, but I am not about to draw up a list of laws that apply or those that don’t. Nor am I going to abstract principles from these laws to apply to current situations. I remain convinced that what we as Christians are supposed to glean from the Book of the Covenant is an understanding of the nature of God and what he requires of his people, what Jesus summarized as loving God and treating your neighbor as yourself.
The Book of the Covenant teaches us that God requires his people to behave properly toward God and with each other. This is true religion. This is true worship. And, as most Christians understand, what constitutes proper behavior is more often than not a matter of spiritual wisdom and Christian maturity rather than having an exhaustive manual to cover each scenario (even the Book of the Covenant does not do that!). And, most important, as with the Israelites, the Christian’s view of the law must first be rooted in the knowledge of what God has already done, apart from the law. He has called us from darkness into light.