The Redemption Penalty Text: Leviticus 27:14-15
Introduction: God's Appraisal
We come now to the end of Leviticus, a book that our modern, sentimental age finds particularly baffling. We have marched through sacrifice, purity laws, and priestly duties, and we conclude here in chapter 27 with a section on vows and valuations. To the modern ear, this sounds like the driest sort of religious accounting. It sounds like the fine print on a divine insurance policy. But if we think this, we are missing the point entirely. We are reading with worldly eyes, not with the eyes of faith.
This chapter, and our text in particular, is a direct assault on the flimsy, subjective way our world thinks about value and commitment. We live in an age where a man's word is worth nothing, where contracts are made to be broken, and where value is whatever the market, or our fickle hearts, say it is. Something is valuable if it makes me feel good, or if it has a high resale price. Commitment is good until it becomes inconvenient. To this flimsy mindset, God's law speaks with the force of a sledgehammer.
Here at the end of this great book on holiness, God instructs His people on what to do when they voluntarily dedicate something of immense personal value, a house, to Him. A house is not a goat or a bushel of grain. A house is the center of a family's life. It is shelter, it is heritage, it is home. To dedicate your house to God was a profound statement of devotion. But God, in His wisdom, knows that men are fickle. Pious vows made in the heat of the moment can become heavy burdens in the cold light of day. So He provides a way of redemption. But this redemption is not cheap grace. It is not a no-fault divorce from your own solemn vow. There is a cost. There is a penalty. And in this cost, we learn a foundational truth about the nature of God's economy, the seriousness of our commitments, and the shadow of that great redemption that was to come in Christ.
These verses are not just about ancient real estate transactions. They are about the grammar of consecration and the high price of buying back what has been given to God. They teach us that God is the great appraiser, and His valuations are not negotiable.
The Text
'Now if a man sets his house apart as holy to Yahweh, then the priest shall value it as either good or bad; as the priest values it, so it shall stand. Yet if the one who sets it apart as holy should wish to redeem his house, then he shall add one-fifth of your valuation price to it, so that it may be his.'
(Leviticus 27:14-15 LSB)
Consecration and Objective Value (v. 14)
We begin with the act of dedication and the immediate consequence of it.
"'Now if a man sets his house apart as holy to Yahweh, then the priest shall value it as either good or bad; as the priest values it, so it shall stand.'" (Leviticus 27:14)
The first clause, "if a man sets his house apart as holy," is crucial. The Hebrew word is qadash, to sanctify, to make holy. This is a voluntary act. God is not compelling this. This is a freewill offering from a heart overflowing with gratitude or devotion. A man looks at his home, the center of his world, and says, "This belongs to God." He is acknowledging that everything he has is a gift from God, and he is tangibly giving the most significant part of it back to the Giver. This act transfers ownership, in principle, from the man to Yahweh.
But the moment this happens, the valuation of the house is taken out of the man's hands. "The priest shall value it." The value is not what the man thinks it's worth. It's not the sentimental value. It's not what he could get for it on the open market in Jericho. The value is determined by God's designated authority, the priest. The priest assesses it "as either good or bad," meaning he makes a judgment based on an objective standard. This is a fundamental principle of God's world: value is objective, not subjective. God is the one who defines reality. He determines what is good, what is true, and what is valuable.
Our entire culture is in rebellion against this principle. We are told "speak your truth," and "define your own reality." This is the primordial lie of the serpent, "you will be like God." But here in the law, God says, "No. I determine the value of things." The priest is not acting on his own whim; he is acting as God's representative. His valuation is God's valuation. And notice the finality: "as the priest values it, so it shall stand." The Hebrew for "stand" is qum. It means it is established, it is confirmed, it is fixed. There is no appeal. You don't get to haggle with the priest. God's assessment of reality is final.
The Redemption Tax (v. 15)
Verse 15 provides for the possibility of second thoughts, but it attaches a significant condition.
"Yet if the one who sets it apart as holy should wish to redeem his house, then he shall add one-fifth of your valuation price to it, so that it may be his." (Leviticus 27:15 LSB)
Here is God's mercy. He makes a way for the man to buy back his house. To "redeem" means to buy back something that was forfeit or belonged to another. The man has given his house to God, and now he wants it back. Perhaps his circumstances have changed. Perhaps he made the vow rashly. God does not hold him to a ruinous promise. But He does not let him off scot-free either.
To get his house back, he must first pay the priest's valuation in full. But that is not all. He must "add one-fifth of your valuation price to it." This is the redemption penalty. This is the tax on second thoughts. This twenty percent surcharge is a powerful teacher. What does it teach? First, it teaches the seriousness of vows made to God. A word spoken to the Almighty is not a trivial thing. "When you make a vow to God, do not delay to pay it; for He has no pleasure in fools. Pay what you have vowed, Better not to vow than to vow and not pay" (Ecclesiastes 5:4-5). This fifth part is a sharp, financial reminder of that principle.
Second, it teaches that reclaiming something from God is a costly business. Once something is given over to the holy realm, it cannot be brought back into the common realm without a price being paid, a price that is more than its assessed value. This surcharge is a tangible representation of the cost of crossing back over that line. It prevents men from playing games with God, dedicating property to avoid taxes or for some other frivolous reason, knowing they can just buy it back at cost. No, if you want it back, it will cost you. It will cost you its value, plus.
This principle is shot through the Scriptures. Redemption is never cheap. We were not redeemed with corruptible things, like silver or gold, from the aimless conduct received from our fathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot (1 Peter 1:18-19). Our redemption price was not just the value of our lives; it was the infinite value of the life of the Son of God. He paid the price, and He paid the penalty. He absorbed the curse. The twenty percent surcharge here in Leviticus is a tiny shadow, a whisper of the staggering cost that Christ would one day pay to redeem His people, His house, which is the Church.
Our Consecrated Lives
So what does this mean for us, who live under the New Covenant? We are not dedicating physical houses to God in this way. But the principle is eternal because the God who gave the law is eternal.
The apostle Paul tells us, "Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). In Christ, our very lives have been "set apart as holy to the Lord." We are not our own. We have been consecrated, sanctified, by the blood of the covenant.
And God has appraised us. His valuation of us is not based on our performance, our goodness, or our potential. His valuation is based on the righteousness of His Son, which has been imputed to us. In Christ, we are valued as "good," and that valuation "shall stand." The accuser cannot challenge it. Our own feelings of worthlessness cannot overturn it. God's appraisal is final.
But we, like the Israelite who had second thoughts about his house, are constantly tempted to "redeem" parts of our lives back for ourselves. We have given our lives to God, but we want to buy back our Sunday mornings for the lake. We want to buy back our money for a bigger boat. We want to buy back our children's education for the pagan state schools. We want to buy back our sexuality to indulge in private sin. We want to live in the house we have dedicated to God, but we want to do it on our own terms.
And the lesson of Leviticus 27 is that this is a costly business. Every time you try to claw back a piece of your consecrated life for your own use, you pay a heavy price. You pay the price of a guilty conscience, of broken fellowship with God, of spiritual deadness. You pay the one-fifth penalty, and then some. Sin always costs more than you think. It is a fool's bargain.
The glorious news of the gospel is that our redemption has been fully and finally secured. Christ paid the valuation, and He paid the penalty. He paid the one-fifth, and infinitely more, when He who knew no sin became sin for us. Because He paid that ultimate redemption price, we are now His forever. We are His house. And our joy is not to try and buy ourselves back from Him at a ruinous cost, but to live joyfully as a house holy to the Lord, a dwelling place for the living God.