The Divine Appraisal: Vows and Values Text: Leviticus 27:1-8
Introduction: God's Holy Accounting
We come now to the final chapter of Leviticus, a book that our modern sensibilities find strange, if not altogether off-putting. We have waded through sacrifices, skin diseases, dietary laws, and regulations about mildew. It is a book that smells of blood and burning fat. And for the modern Christian, who wants a tidy, sentimental faith, this can all seem a bit much. We want the Sermon on the Mount, but we want to quietly unhitch it from the God of Sinai who spoke from the fire.
But you cannot do that. The God of Leviticus is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. This book is a detailed, practical, and earthy outworking of a single, thunderous reality: God is holy, and He has chosen to dwell among a sinful people. Therefore, that people must be holy. This holiness was not an abstract feeling in their hearts; it was to permeate every aspect of their lives, from their worship to their work, from their bodies to their buildings. Leviticus is the holiness code for a people set apart.
And now, at the very end of this detailed instruction, we come to a chapter on vows and valuations. This might seem like a strange appendix, a bit of religious accounting tacked on at the end. But it is nothing of the sort. This chapter is a profound statement about ownership, value, and the nature of our consecration to God. Our secular world believes that value is subjective. A thing is worth what someone is willing to pay for it. A person's worth is determined by their utility, their productivity, their contribution to the GDP. The autonomous individual is the one who sets the price tag on everything, including himself.
Into this relativistic marketplace, Leviticus 27 speaks a jarring and objective truth. God is the one who sets the value. He is the ultimate appraiser. When something or someone is devoted to Him, it is valued according to His standard, not ours. This is not about earning your way to God; it is about recognizing that everything, including our very selves, belongs to Him by right of creation and, for us, by right of redemption. This chapter confronts our prideful autonomy and reminds us that we are not our own; we were bought with a price. It establishes a grammar of consecration, teaching us that our commitments to God are not weightless emotional whims, but have a real, objective, and sometimes costly reality in the world He made.
The Text
Then Yahweh spoke to Moses, saying, "Speak to the sons of Israel and say to them, 'When a man makes a difficult vow, he shall be valued according to your valuation of persons belonging to Yahweh. If your valuation is of the male from twenty years even to sixty years old, then your valuation shall be fifty shekels of silver, according to the shekel of the sanctuary. Or if it is a female, then your valuation shall be thirty shekels. If it be from five years even to twenty years old then your valuation for the male shall be twenty shekels and for the female ten shekels. But if they are from a month even up to five years old, then your valuation shall be five shekels of silver for the male, and for the female your valuation shall be three shekels of silver. If they are from sixty years old and upward, if it is a male, then your valuation shall be fifteen shekels, and for the female ten shekels. But if he is poorer than your valuation, then he shall be presented before the priest, and the priest shall value him; according to the means of the one who vowed, the priest shall value him.'
(Leviticus 27:1-8 LSB)
The Principle of Consecration (v. 1-2)
The instruction begins with the basis for this whole system: a vow made to God.
"Then Yahweh spoke to Moses, saying, 'Speak to the sons of Israel and say to them, When a man makes a difficult vow, he shall be valued according to your valuation of persons belonging to Yahweh.'" (Leviticus 27:1-2)
A vow is a solemn promise made to God. In this case, it appears to be a vow where a person consecrates himself or another person under his authority, like a child, to the service of Yahweh. Think of Hannah vowing her son Samuel to the Lord's service at the Tabernacle. This was not a promise to do something for God, but rather a promise to give someone to God. This person was now considered "belonging to Yahweh."
But what if circumstances changed? What if the person vowed was the head of the household, and his full-time service at the Tabernacle would leave his family destitute? This law provides a way to redeem that vow. The person is not simply released from the promise. The vow has an objective weight, a real value. To be redeemed, that value, as set by God's law, must be paid. This teaches the people that their words have consequences. A promise made to God is not a trivial thing to be discarded when it becomes inconvenient. God takes our commitments seriously, and He expects us to do the same.
The phrase "difficult vow" or "special vow" indicates this is not a run-of-the-mill promise. This is a high and holy act of devotion. And notice, the valuation is not based on the person's individual skills, their IQ, or their earning potential. The valuation is based on God's standardized assessment. This is a direct assault on the pride of man. God is not interested in a bidding war. He establishes the terms because He is the Lord.
The Standardized Valuation (v. 3-7)
The text then lays out a schedule of fixed values based on age and sex.
"If your valuation is of the male from twenty years even to sixty years old, then your valuation shall be fifty shekels of silver... Or if it is a female, then your valuation shall be thirty shekels..." (Leviticus 27:3-4)
Now, the modern egalitarian will immediately get his back up. Why is the male valued at fifty shekels and the female at thirty? Is God a misogynist? Is the Bible sexist? This is the kind of chronological snobbery that prevents us from understanding the text. We read our current cultural battles back into the Word of God and then pronounce judgment on it.
This valuation has nothing to do with intrinsic worth or spiritual standing before God. In Christ, there is neither male nor female. This is about economics and labor in an ancient agrarian society. The valuation was likely based on the potential for physical labor that would be lost to the sanctuary. A man in his prime (20-60 years old) represented a greater loss of economic power and physical labor than a woman. This is not a statement on ontology; it is a statement on economy. It is a practical, not a metaphysical, valuation.
It is fascinating to note that the valuation for a prime male is fifty shekels. This is the same price of the field in the parable of the hidden treasure, and it is the price of redemption. The thirty shekels for the female is, of course, the price of a slave gored by an ox (Exodus 21:32) and, most chillingly, the price of betrayal paid for our Lord Jesus (Zechariah 11:12-13; Matthew 26:15). These numbers are not arbitrary; they echo throughout the story of redemption.
"If it be from five years even to twenty years old then your valuation for the male shall be twenty shekels and for the female ten shekels... from a month even up to five years old... five shekels... three shekels... from sixty years old and upward... fifteen shekels... ten shekels." (Leviticus 27:5-7)
The scale continues, adjusting for age. The value decreases for the very young and the old, again, based on their capacity for work. A male in his prime is the standard, and all other valuations are adjusted from there. This system is orderly, objective, and clear. It prevents haggling with the priest. It prevents the rich from showing off with an extravagant payment and the poor from being crushed by an impossible demand. God's law provides a stable, predictable standard for the entire community. It is an act of grace, providing a way for His people to fulfill their vows honorably.
Mercy for the Poor (v. 8)
But what if even this standardized, objective value was too much for someone to bear?
"But if he is poorer than your valuation, then he shall be presented before the priest, and the priest shall value him; according to the means of the one who vowed, the priest shall value him." (Leviticus 27:8)
Here we see the mercy of God woven into the very fabric of His law. The standard is objective, but its application is pastoral. God does not demand what a person simply cannot give. The desire of the heart to fulfill the vow is what matters. If a man is poor, he is not turned away in shame. He is brought before the priest, who is to make an assessment "according to the means of the one who vowed."
This is a glorious principle. God's law is not a cold, impersonal machine designed to crush the poor. The priest is given discretion to show mercy. The inflexible standard is made flexible by grace. This protects the poor from being destroyed by their own piety. It ensures that devotion is not the exclusive privilege of the wealthy. A poor man's vow, fulfilled according to his ability, is just as precious to God as a rich man's. This is the same principle we see in the story of the widow's mite. She gave all she had, and in God's economy, it was more than all the rest.
Redeemed by Another's Valuation
So what are we to do with this? We are not under the Levitical code. We do not make vows to serve at a physical tabernacle or redeem them with shekels of silver. As with all of Leviticus, we must see how this points us to Christ and our life in Him.
First, we must recognize that we are all, by nature, consecrated to something. You will either be a slave to sin or a slave to righteousness. You will either belong to the kingdom of darkness or the kingdom of God. There is no neutral ground. The tragedy of the fall is that all of humanity was born under a vow, as it were, to sin and death. We belong to a fallen head, Adam. And under that covenant, we are doomed.
But God, in His mercy, has provided a way of redemption. We were "poorer than the valuation." We were utterly bankrupt, unable to pay the price to redeem ourselves from the curse of the law. The price was perfect righteousness, and we had none. We were spiritual paupers, with nothing to offer. So what did God do? He did not simply waive the debt. The vow had to be paid. The standard of His holy justice had to be met.
God presented us before our great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ. And this Priest did not simply lower the valuation according to our means. He paid the valuation for us. We were not redeemed with silver or gold, like the shekels of the sanctuary, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or spot (1 Peter 1:18-19). He paid the thirty pieces of silver, the price of a slave, and with it purchased a people for His own possession.
He is our redemption. The entire system of vows and valuations in Leviticus was an object lesson, a tutor to teach Israel that consecration is costly and redemption is gracious. It was a signpost pointing down the long road to the one who would fulfill every vow and pay every price.
Therefore, because we have been bought with such a price, we are not our own. We belong to Yahweh. Our lives are a "difficult vow," a special consecration. We are to present our bodies as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, which is our spiritual worship (Romans 12:1). We are not valued according to our productivity or our social standing, but according to the infinite value of the Son who was given for us. In Him, the poorest and weakest believer is valued beyond all the silver in the world. We have been consecrated by a vow made in eternity, and redeemed by a price paid on a cross in time. We belong to Him. Let us therefore live like it.