The Spark of Responsibility: Restitution and the Fear of God Text: Exodus 22:6
Introduction: God's Law for the Real World
We live in an age that prides itself on its sophistication, but in reality, it is an age of spectacular irresponsibility. We have perfected the art of blaming our parents, our society, our genetics, our environment, and anything else we can find to avoid looking in the mirror. When something goes wrong, the first instinct of modern man is not repentance, but a lawsuit. It is not to make things right, but to deflect, deny, and dispute. We have become a culture of victims, which is another way of saying we have become a culture of children.
Into this morass of excuse making, the law of God cuts like a clean, sharp blade. The laws we find in Exodus are not abstract platitudes for flannelgraph Sundays. This is not a collection of pious suggestions. This is divine case law, given to a real nation to govern their real, earthy lives. These are laws about runaway oxen, midnight burglars, and, as we have it in our text, careless fires. And because it is God's law, it is intensely practical. It is designed to create a just, sane, and prosperous society. And the central principle undergirding much of this law is the glorious, and now almost forgotten, doctrine of restitution.
Many Christians, when they encounter a passage like this, are tempted to shuffle their feet and move on. What does a law about burning thorn bushes have to do with us? We have the Spirit, we have grace, we have the New Covenant. This is all well and good, but as the Westminster Confession wisely puts it, these judicial laws, while expired in their specific application to the nation-state of Israel, continue to oblige us in their "general equity." This is a foundational concept. The principle of justice embedded in the law does not expire. God's standard of righteousness does not have a sell-by date. And the principle here is one of personal responsibility and the obligation to make things right when you have made them wrong.
This law is a direct assault on the victim mentality. It is a direct assault on the idea that good intentions are all that matter. It teaches us that our actions have consequences, and that godly character requires us to take ownership of those consequences, especially when they harm our neighbor.
The Text
"If a fire breaks out and spreads to thorn bushes, so that stacked grain or the standing grain or the field itself is consumed, he who started the fire shall surely make restitution."
(Exodus 22:6 LSB)
The Principle of Proximate Cause (v. 6a)
Let us first consider the scenario God lays out:
"If a fire breaks out and spreads to thorn bushes, so that stacked grain or the standing grain or the field itself is consumed..." (Exodus 22:6a)
The setting is agricultural, as was Israel's economy. A man starts a fire. The text doesn't say he started it with malicious intent. This is not a case of arson, which would be a far more serious crime, a direct attack on his neighbor's livelihood tantamount to theft. The language suggests negligence. He was burning off refuse, or clearing a field, or maybe just had a cooking fire that got away from him. The fire "breaks out." It escapes its intended boundary. It "spreads to thorn bushes," which act as a kind of natural kindling, a bridge from his property to his neighbor's.
The result is destruction. The fire consumes the "stacked grain," which is the harvested crop, the man's wealth and winter provision, all his labor brought to nothing. Or it consumes the "standing grain," the crop still in the field, his future hope. Or it consumes "the field itself," scorching the earth, destroying pastureland, and damaging its future productivity. The damage is real, tangible, and economically devastating.
What God is establishing here is the principle of proximate cause. The man who started the fire is responsible for the foreseeable consequences of his actions. He may not have intended for his neighbor's field to burn, but he lit the match. His action was the direct cause of the loss. Our modern legal system spends billions of dollars trying to untangle liability, often with the goal of finding the deepest pockets to sue. God's law is simple and direct. You are responsible for the fire you start. You are responsible for the damage your negligence causes.
This is a profoundly adult way of looking at the world. It assumes that men are moral agents, not helpless victims of circumstance. Your carelessness is not an "oopsie." It is a sin against your neighbor because it violates the great command to love your neighbor as yourself. You would not want your own grain burned because of someone else's carelessness, therefore you have an obligation to be careful with fire where it might affect his.
The Mandate of Restitution (v. 6b)
The consequence of this negligence is not a fine paid to the state. It is not jail time. It is not a series of court-mandated apologies. The remedy is direct, personal, and restorative.
"...he who started the fire shall surely make restitution." (Exodus 22:6b)
The Hebrew here is emphatic: "shall surely make restitution." It means to pay back in full, to make the other man whole. The goal of biblical justice in cases like this is not primarily punitive, but restorative. The state's interest is secondary. The primary goal is to restore the man who was harmed. If his stacked grain was burned, he is to be given back the value of that grain. If his field was scorched, the payment must cover the loss of the crop and the cost of restoring the field to productivity. Justice is not served until the victim's loss has been made right.
This is a world away from our modern system. When a man is convicted of vandalism, he might pay a fine to the court, which disappears into the state's general fund. The man whose property was actually vandalized gets nothing. The criminal has paid his "debt to society," but his debt to his neighbor, the one he actually wronged, remains outstanding. This is a form of institutionalized injustice.
Biblical restitution forces the offender to confront the personal nature of his sin. He cannot hide behind the anonymity of the state. He must look his neighbor in the eye, acknowledge the harm he has caused, and work to pay it back. This is humbling. It is costly. And it is absolutely essential for true repentance and reconciliation. It puts the burden of the sin squarely on the shoulders of the one who committed it, which is exactly where it belongs.
The Gospel of Restitution
Now, how does this principle of "general equity" apply to us as New Covenant believers? It applies in at least two profound ways. First, it shapes our understanding of true repentance. And second, it magnifies the glory of the gospel.
Think of Zacchaeus, the wee little man up in the sycamore tree. When Christ's grace invaded his heart, what was the immediate fruit? He didn't just say, "I'm sorry for being a corrupt tax collector." He didn't just have a warm feeling in his heart. His repentance was tangible, costly, and restorative. He said, "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold" (Luke 19:8). That is Exodus 22 in action. True repentance doesn't just confess the sin; it seeks to undo the damage of the sin as much as is possible. If you have stolen, you pay it back, and then some. If you have slandered someone, you go back to everyone you lied to and you set the record straight. If your carelessness has cost your neighbor, you make it right. Repentance that does not lead to restitution, where restitution is possible, is a cheap and fraudulent repentance.
But this brings us to the ultimate point. While we are commanded to make restitution to our neighbors for the fires we start, we must recognize that we are all arsonists in a much deeper sense. We have all taken the good gifts of God and, through our sin and rebellion, have set a fire that has consumed our own lives and brought damage to the whole created order. Our sin is a fire that has broken out, and the damage is infinite. We have wronged a holy God.
And what restitution can we possibly make to Him? What can we offer to the one who owns everything? We have nothing to pay. The field is burned, and we are utterly bankrupt. Our debt is immeasurable. This is where the glory of the gospel shines with blinding light. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, saw our hopeless state. He came down and stood in our place. On the cross, He took the full liability for every fire we have ever started. He absorbed the full cost of all the damage.
But He did more than that. He not only paid our debt, He made full and glorious restitution. He did not just restore what was lost; He gave us back more than we ever had in the first place. He took our scorched and barren field and, through His resurrection, made it a new creation. He is the one who "shall surely make restitution." He restores our relationship with the Father. He restores our humanity. He restores our future. He pays back not just what we lost, but He pays it back fourfold, a hundredfold, infinitely. He is the true Zacchaeus, and the fire of God's justice that should have consumed us was extinguished in Him, so that we might be brought, fully restored, into the household of God.