Gospel Freedom in a Servant's Garb Text: Exodus 21:1-11
Introduction: The Scandal of God's Law
We come now to a portion of God's Word that causes our modern, egalitarian sensibilities to recoil. We have been well trained by our secular masters to be scandalized by passages like this one. The words "slave" and "slavery" are, for us, freighted with the immense historical baggage of the antebellum South, of chattel slavery, of a race-based system built on the monstrous sin of man-stealing. And so, when we read the laws God gave to Moses concerning such things, our first impulse is to apologize, to squirm, to explain it away, or to simply rip these pages out of our Bibles in embarrassment.
But we must do none of these things. We are Christians, which means we are people of the Book. All of it. We believe that all Scripture is breathed out by God and is profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness. That includes Exodus 21. If we are ashamed of what the Bible teaches, then we are ashamed of the God who taught it. Our task is not to put God in the dock and judge Him by the flimsy standards of our current cultural moment. Our task is to sit humbly under His Word and allow it to judge us, to correct our thinking, and to reveal His righteousness, a righteousness that is far higher and more pure than our own.
The first thing we must do is make a crucial distinction that our age is determined to ignore: the distinction between the biblical laws concerning servitude and the brutal system of chattel slavery. What is described here is not the race-based, perpetual, dehumanizing slavery that was practiced in the American South. The foundation of that system was man-stealing, a crime the Mosaic law punishes with death (Ex. 21:16). What the Bible regulates here is something much closer to indentured servitude. It was a system for the poor, a way for a man in dire economic straits to provide for himself and his family by selling his labor for a fixed period of time. It was a bankruptcy law, a social safety net, and it was structured with grace, limitations, and avenues to freedom that were utterly foreign to the pagan systems of the ancient world.
God did not invent slavery; He walked into a world where it was a universal and brutal reality and began the long, slow process of sanctifying and undermining it. He regulated a fallen institution in order to protect the vulnerable and to point His people toward a greater, spiritual reality. These laws were a radical, humane step forward. And more than that, they are shot through with gospel light. They teach us about debt, redemption, sabbath rest, and the nature of true, loving service. If we have eyes to see, we will find Christ here, in the laws for the Hebrew slave.
The Text
"Now these are the judgments which you are to set before them: If you buy a Hebrew slave, he shall serve for six years; but on the seventh he shall go out as a free man without payment. If he comes alone, he shall go out alone; if he is the husband of a wife, then his wife shall go out with him. If his master gives him a wife, and she bears him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall belong to her master, and he shall go out alone. But if the slave plainly says, 'I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out as a free man,' then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. Then his master shall pierce his ear with an awl; and he shall serve him permanently. And if a man sells his daughter as a female slave, she is not to go free as the male slaves do. If she is displeasing in the eyes of her master who designated her for himself, then he shall let her be redeemed. He does not have authority to sell her to a foreign people because of his treachery to her. And if he designates her for his son, he shall do to her according to the custom of daughters. If he takes for himself another woman, he may not reduce her food, her clothing, or her conjugal rights. And if he will not do these three things for her, then she shall go out for nothing, without payment of money."
(Exodus 21:1-11 LSB)
The Law of Release (vv. 1-4)
We begin with the foundational principle for Hebrew servants.
"Now these are the judgments which you are to set before them: If you buy a Hebrew slave, he shall serve for six years; but on the seventh he shall go out as a free man without payment." (Exodus 21:1-2)
The context here is crucial. This is not about kidnapping a man from a foreign land. This is about a "Hebrew," a fellow covenant member who has fallen on hard times. Perhaps he had a bad harvest, or made a foolish business decision, and now he is in deep debt. In our system, he might face bankruptcy, homelessness, and starvation for his family. In God's system, he had an option. He could sell his labor, his most valuable asset, to a more prosperous Hebrew for a set period of time. This was not a loss of humanity, but a structured way to work off a debt and get a fresh start.
The most radical part of this law is the time limit. "He shall serve for six years." This is not a life sentence. From the moment the contract begins, the clock is ticking toward freedom. And on the seventh year, the Sabbath year, he is to be released. This principle of Sabbath rest is woven into the fabric of creation, and here it is applied to the social and economic life of Israel. The seventh year is a year of release, of jubilee, of grace. Deuteronomy 15 adds that the master was not to send him away empty-handed, but was to furnish him liberally from the flock, the threshing floor, and the winepress (Deut. 15:13-14). This was a reboot. The man was not just released, but he was set up to succeed on his own.
Verses 3 and 4 deal with the servant's family status.
"If he comes alone, he shall go out alone; if he is the husband of a wife, then his wife shall go out with him. If his master gives him a wife, and she bears him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall belong to her master, and he shall go out alone." (Exodus 21:3-4)
The principle is simple justice. The master gets what belongs to him, and the man leaves with what belongs to him. If he came into servitude as a married man, his wife was part of his household, and she leaves with him. The master has no claim on her. But if the master, in an act of generosity, provides a wife for his servant (likely a servant from his own household), then that wife and the resulting children are part of the master's household. The man entered the contract alone, and he leaves alone. This seems harsh to us, but it is based on a clear principle of property and household headship. The master has invested in this woman and is responsible for her. The children belong to the household in which they were born. The man is free to go, but he cannot take what is not his.
The Law of Love (vv. 5-6)
But what if the man does not want to go? The law provides a remarkable option.
"But if the slave plainly says, 'I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out as a free man,' then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. Then his master shall pierce his ear with an awl; and he shall serve him permanently." (Exodus 21:5-6)
This is the heart of the passage. Freedom is the default. The door is wide open for him to leave. But love can create a bond stronger than any contract. The servant might say, "My master has treated me with kindness and dignity. He gave me a wife whom I love. We have children together. This is my home. My life is better here than it would be out there." Notice the motivation: "I love my master, my wife, and my children." This is not a decision born of coercion, but of affection.
The procedure is public and symbolic. He is brought "to God," which means to the judges or priests at the sanctuary, to make a formal declaration. Then, at the doorpost of his master's house, his ear is pierced with an awl. The door represents the home he is choosing. The pierced ear is a permanent mark of his willing, loving devotion. He is marked as one who belongs to this household forever, not by force, but by choice. His service is now transformed from a contractual obligation into a covenantal relationship.
This points us directly to Christ. The Psalmist prophesies of the Messiah, "Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but my ears you have pierced; burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require. Then I said, 'Behold, I come; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. I delight to do your will, O my God'" (Psalm 40:6-8). Jesus is the ultimate bondservant, who, out of love for His Father and for His bride, the Church, willingly went to the cross. He said, "I will not go out free." He chose the nails, the doorposts of the cross, so that He might serve His Father and purchase His people forever. We, in turn, are called to be bondservants of Christ. We are not our own; we were bought with a price. And our service is not a grim duty, but a joyful response to His love. We say with the slave in Exodus, "I love my Master; I will not go out free."
The Law for Daughters (vv. 7-11)
The law now turns to a specific and sensitive case: a father selling his daughter.
"And if a man sells his daughter as a female slave, she is not to go free as the male slaves do." (Exodus 21:7)
Again, our modern minds immediately imagine the worst. But we must read the text carefully. This is not about selling a daughter into sexual exploitation or harsh labor. The context makes it clear that this is a form of arranged marriage or betrothal. A poor father, unable to provide a dowry for his daughter, could arrange for her to be taken into the household of a wealthier man, with the expectation that she would become a wife or concubine for him or for his son. The payment he receives is akin to a bride price.
The reason she does not "go free as the male slaves do" is because her status is entirely different. She is not a temporary laborer; she is being integrated into a family with the rights and protections of a wife. The subsequent verses are all about protecting her in that role.
"If she is displeasing in the eyes of her master who designated her for himself, then he shall let her be redeemed... If he designates her for his son, he shall do to her according to the custom of daughters... If he takes for himself another woman, he may not reduce her food, her clothing, or her conjugal rights. And if he will not do these three things for her, then she shall go out for nothing, without payment of money." (Exodus 21:8-11)
Look at the layers of protection God builds around this vulnerable woman. First, if the master changes his mind and does not take her as his wife, he cannot treat her as mere property. He cannot sell her to someone else, especially not a foreigner. That would be treachery. He must allow her family to "redeem" her, to buy her back. Second, if he gives her to his son, he must treat her not as a servant, but as a daughter-in-law, with all the rights and privileges that entails. Third, if he marries her and then takes another wife, he is forbidden from neglecting his duties to her. He must provide her food, her clothing, and her "conjugal rights." This is a stunning affirmation of a wife's rights within marriage, including her sexual rights, something unheard of in the ancient world.
And finally, if the master fails in any of these three basic duties, the contract is void. The woman goes free immediately, without any payment. He has broken faith with her, and he forfeits all his rights. Far from being an oppressive law, this is a charter of rights for women in a precarious situation. God is acting as her covenantal protector, ensuring that she is treated with dignity and not as a disposable commodity.
Conclusion: Redeemed for Service
So what do we do with these laws? We are not ancient Israel. We do not practice indentured servitude. But the principles that undergird these laws are eternal, because they flow from the character of God and point to the work of Christ.
First, we see that God hates oppression and exploitation. His laws are designed to protect the poor and the weak, to limit the power of the master, and to provide avenues of grace and release. This stands in stark contrast to the man-centered systems of this world, which invariably grind the poor into the dust.
Second, we see the beautiful picture of willing, loving service. The bondservant with the pierced ear is a model for every Christian. We were once slaves to sin, in bondage to a cruel master. Christ paid our debt, not with silver or gold, but with His precious blood. He opened the door of our prison and set us free. And what is our response? Do we run off to live for ourselves? No. Overwhelmed by His love, we come to the doorpost of His house, the church, and we say, "I love my Master. I love His people. I will not go out free." We offer our ears to be pierced, to be marked as His forever. Our service to Him is not a burden, but our highest joy and our truest freedom.
Finally, we see a picture of the church. We are the daughter sold into bondage by our father, Adam. We were poor, without a dowry, and without hope. But the Father designated us for His Son. Christ did not despise us, but He redeemed us. He did not treat us as slaves, but He treated us according to the custom of daughters, making us co-heirs with Him. He will never fail to provide for us our food, our clothing, and our conjugal rights, that spiritual intimacy we share with Him. He is a faithful husband, and He will never break His covenant with His bride. These ancient laws, which seem so strange to us, are in fact a shadow of the glorious gospel of grace. God is a God who brings His people out of the house of bondage, not so that we might be autonomous, but so that we might joyfully serve Him forever.