God's Fabric and Man's Fabric: The Law of Two Threads Text: Deuteronomy 22:11
Introduction: The Grammar of Holiness
We come now to one of those peculiar little laws in the book of Deuteronomy that often causes modern Christians to scratch their heads. For some, it is a point of ridicule, a clear example of the supposed absurdity of the Old Testament law. For others, it is simply baffling, a divine command about fashion that seems to have no relevance to us at all. But we must remember that all Scripture is God-breathed and is profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness. That includes the parts about our wardrobes.
The problem is not with the text; the problem is with our modernist, utilitarian mindset. We read a law like this and ask, "What practical harm does it prevent?" We want a straightforward, pragmatic reason for everything. But God is not simply a divine safety inspector. He is a poet, an artist, and a father, and He is teaching His children through object lessons. The laws of the Old Covenant were not just a set of rules; they were a liturgy for all of life. They were designed to make Israel a walking, talking, farming, and dressing parable. Every aspect of their lives was to preach a sermon about the nature of God and the nature of His covenant.
This law is part of a larger section of Deuteronomy that deals with distinctions. The surrounding verses forbid plowing with an ox and a donkey together, and Leviticus 19:19, the parallel passage, forbids cross-breeding animals and sowing a field with two different kinds of seed. God creates by separating, by making distinctions. He separated light from darkness, the waters above from the waters below, and the land from the sea. The essence of paganism, and the essence of modern rebellion, is the desire to smudge all of God's lines, to blur all His distinctions, and to return everything to a chaotic, undifferentiated soup. This law is a small but potent protest against that rebellion. It is a lesson in the grammar of holiness, teaching us that God cares about categories, about natures, and about the integrity of His created order.
So, we are not dealing with an arbitrary divine preference for pure fabrics. We are dealing with a profound theological statement woven into the very clothes on Israel's back. God is teaching His people, and us, about the fundamental conflict between two opposing principles, two opposing kingdoms, and two opposing ways of life.
The Text
"You shall not wear a material mixed of wool and flax together."
(Deuteronomy 22:11 LSB)
The Prohibition Explained
Let us look at the command itself. It is simple and direct.
"You shall not wear a material mixed of wool and flax together." (Deuteronomy 22:11)
The Hebrew word for this forbidden mixture is shaatnez. The prohibition is very specific. It is not against all blended fabrics, a fact that should relieve anyone wearing a cotton/polyester blend. The law singles out two specific materials: wool and flax, which is what linen is made from. Wool comes from an animal, the sheep. Linen comes from a plant, the flax plant. This is a mixture of the animal kingdom and the vegetable kingdom in one thread, woven into one garment.
Now, why these two? The Bible itself provides the key. Throughout Scripture, these two fabrics carry a great deal of symbolic weight. Linen is consistently associated with purity, righteousness, and the priesthood. The priests were to wear linen garments when they ministered in the Tabernacle (Leviticus 16:4). In the vision of the man by the river in Daniel, he is clothed in linen (Daniel 10:5). And most significantly, in the book of Revelation, the bride of Christ, the Church, is given fine linen, bright and pure, to wear, "for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints" (Revelation 19:8). Linen represents a righteousness that is pure, clean, and divinely bestowed. It comes from the earth, a picture of God's good creation, and is made white and pure.
Wool, on the other hand, is associated with the natural man, and often with that which is earthbound and even cursed. Wool is what keeps a sheep warm. It is the stuff of our common, creaturely existence. But more than that, in the instructions for the priests, wool was explicitly forbidden in the sanctuary because it causes sweat (Ezekiel 44:17-18). Sweat is the emblem of the curse of Adam. "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread," God said to Adam after the fall (Genesis 3:19). Sweat represents man's cursed, toiling labor under the sun, his striving in his own strength. Wool, therefore, comes to represent the work of man, the fleshly effort, the curse of the law.
So, what happens when you weave them together? You get shaatnez. You get a garment that is a living, walking, material contradiction. You are mixing the pure righteousness of God (linen) with the cursed, sweaty striving of man (wool). You are creating a fabric that preaches a false gospel. It is a symbol of syncretism. It is an attempt to be justified by faith and by works. It is trying to weave the grace of God together with the efforts of the flesh. It is, in fabric form, the heresy of the Galatians.
This is why this was not merely a ceremonial law, but a deeply moral and theological one, expressed ceremonially. God was teaching Israel that they were not to be a syncretistic people. Their worship was to be pure. Their trust was to be in Him alone. They were not to mix the worship of Yahweh with the practices of the Baal-worshippers around them. They were not to try and earn their righteousness through their own sweaty efforts, but were to receive it as a gift, represented by the pure linen of the priesthood.
The Priestly Exception and the Christian Fulfillment
Now, as with many such laws, there is a fascinating exception that proves the rule. While the common Israelite was forbidden from wearing wool and linen together, the High Priest's garments were commanded to be made of exactly that mixture. The ephod and the breastplate were woven with gold, blue, purple, and scarlet yarn (wool) and fine twined linen (Exodus 28:6, 15). Why was the High Priest permitted, even commanded, to wear what was forbidden to everyone else?
Because the High Priest was a type of Christ. He was the one man who could bring these two opposing principles together. In his person, he represented both God and man. He stood as a mediator, bridging the gap. In Christ, the divine and the human are brought together in one person without confusion, mixture, or change. Jesus is the true High Priest who perfectly unites the purity of divine righteousness (linen) with the reality of our human flesh (wool), yet without the curse of sweat. He took on our creaturely frame, our "garment" of wool, but was without sin. He is the one who can wear this mixed garment because He alone has resolved the contradiction. He took the curse of our sweaty toil upon Himself on the cross, and He clothes us in the pure linen of His own perfect righteousness.
This brings us to the application for the Christian. Are we bound to check the tags on our suits for shaatnez? No, because the ceremonial law has been fulfilled in Christ. We do not obey the picture when we have the reality. To go back to observing the dietary laws or the fabric laws would be to deny that Christ has come. It would be like staring at a photograph of my wife when she is sitting right next to me.
But this does not mean the law has nothing to say to us. The principle that the law embodied is eternal. The New Testament takes this principle of separation from mixture and applies it directly to us in spiritual terms. The Apostle Paul is simply preaching Deuteronomy 22 when he says, "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness?" (2 Corinthians 6:14).
To be "yoked" with the world in its unbelief, its philosophy, its morality, and its worship is to weave shaatnez. It is to attempt to mix the kingdom of God with the kingdom of this world. It is to sew a patch of new wine covenant onto the old, Adamic garment of flesh. The result is always a tear. The result is always a compromise that corrupts the pure linen of the gospel.
Conclusion: Wearing Christ Alone
This little law about fabric is a profound gospel lesson. It teaches us that we cannot mix our works with God's grace for our salvation. We cannot mix worldly wisdom with biblical truth for our sanctification. We cannot mix pagan assumptions with Christian faithfulness in our culture-building. We are to be a distinct people, clothed in one fabric and one fabric alone: the pure linen of the righteousness of Jesus Christ, which we receive by faith alone.
When you get dressed in the morning, you are not a neutral party simply covering your nakedness. You are putting on a uniform. The question is, whose uniform is it? The world wants to sell you a blend, a shaatnez garment that mixes a little bit of Jesus with a whole lot of self-reliance, worldly ambition, and pagan thought. It is a comfortable, fashionable, and utterly damning lie.
The gospel call is to take off the old garment of wool, the sweaty rags of our own self-righteousness, and to be clothed entirely in the linen garments of Christ. We are called to be a holy priesthood, and our uniform is not a mixture. It is Christ, and Christ alone. Let us therefore be diligent to keep our garments unspotted from the world, refusing to weave its threads into the fabric of our lives, our homes, our churches, and our minds. For we are not a blended people. We are a people set apart, clothed in the definitive, unmixed, and glorious righteousness of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.