Commentary - Deuteronomy 27:1-8

Bird's-eye view

As Israel stands on the plains of Moab, on the very brink of entering the Promised Land, Moses delivers what amounts to a national liturgy. This is not a pep talk before a big game. This is a formal, solemn, national covenant renewal ceremony. They are about to take possession of the land God promised to their fathers, and the first order of business, before they even unpack their bags, is to publicly establish the terms of their existence in that land. God is constituting them as a nation under His law. This ceremony on Mount Ebal is their constitutional convention, their ratification assembly, and their inaugural worship service all rolled into one. It is designed to impress upon them, in the most tangible way possible, that their life in the land depends entirely on their relationship to the words of this law.

The structure of the command is profoundly theological. They are to write the law on large, plastered stones. They are to build an altar. They are to offer sacrifices. And then they are to rejoice. And the location for all this is not the mountain of blessing, but Mount Ebal, the mountain of the curse. This is the gospel in dirt, rock, and smoke. The law, which brings the curse upon all who disobey it, is placed right next to the altar, which is God's provision for dealing with the curse. It is a stark and beautiful picture of how God relates to His people: His holy standard is unyielding, the consequences for sin are severe, and His provision for atonement is sufficient and central.


Outline


Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 1 Then Moses and the elders of Israel commanded the people, saying, “Keep the entire commandment which I am commanding you today.

The instruction begins with a united front. Moses, the singular prophet of God, is joined by the elders, the representative heads of the people. This is not a personal project; this is an established, authoritative command for the entire nation. And the command is comprehensive: "Keep the entire commandment." God's law is not a buffet where we can pick the parts we like and ignore the rest. It is a seamless whole, a reflection of the character of God Himself. To reject one part is to reject the authority behind all of it. This is totalizing loyalty, the only kind of loyalty God accepts.

v. 2-3 So it will be on the day when you cross the Jordan to the land which Yahweh your God gives you, that you shall set up for yourself large stones and coat them with lime and write on them all the words of this law when you cross over, so that you may enter the land which Yahweh your God gives you, a land flowing with milk and honey, as Yahweh, the God of your fathers, promised you.

The timing is immediate. "On the day" you cross over. The very first thing they are to do as a nation in the land is this liturgical act. Before you build your cities, before you plant your fields, you establish the law of God as the foundation of your society. The stones are to be large and coated with lime, or plaster. This is for maximum visibility. The law is not some esoteric secret for the priestly class; it is a public document, the constitution of the nation, for every man, woman, and child to see and read. The purpose is explicit: this is done "so that you may enter the land." Their possession and enjoyment of the promised blessings are conditioned on their covenant faithfulness to the law. The land is a gift of grace, promised to the fathers, but it is a gift to be enjoyed according to the terms laid down by the Giver.

v. 4 So it will be when you cross the Jordan, you shall set up on Mount Ebal, these stones, as I am commanding you today, and you shall coat them with lime.

Here is the theological kicker. The stones bearing the law are to be set up on Mount Ebal. As the subsequent verses will make clear, Ebal is the mountain from which the curses of the covenant are to be pronounced. Why here? Why not on Gerizim, the mountain of blessing? Because this is the primary function of the law for fallen men. The law shows us our sin. It pronounces the curse we deserve. It corners us, condemns us, and leaves us with no hope in ourselves. By placing the words of the law on the mountain of the curse, God is teaching Israel, and us, that the law, by itself, can only lead to condemnation. It is a ministry of death (2 Cor. 3:7). It reveals the problem perfectly, but it does not, in itself, provide the solution.

v. 5-6 Moreover, you shall build there an altar to Yahweh your God, an altar of stones; you shall not wield an iron tool on them. You shall build the altar of Yahweh your God of uncut stones, and you shall offer on it burnt offerings to Yahweh your God;

And right there, on the mountain of the curse, next to the stones of condemnation, they are to build an altar. This is the gospel. The law says "cursed," and the altar says "sacrifice." The law diagnoses the disease, and the altar provides the remedy. Notice the strict instructions for the altar. It must be made of uncut, natural stones. No iron tool is to be used. Man must not "improve" upon God's provision for atonement. To shape the stones would be to introduce human effort, human artistry, and human pride into the work of salvation. God's grace is raw, unhewn, and sufficient. We come to it as it is, or we do not come at all. On this altar, they are to offer burnt offerings, which signify total consecration and atonement for sin. The worshipper symbolically places himself on the altar to be entirely consumed, and the animal substitute takes his place.

v. 7 and you shall sacrifice peace offerings and eat there and be glad before Yahweh your God.

After atonement comes fellowship. The burnt offering deals with the sin that separates man from God. The peace offering celebrates the communion that is restored because of the sacrifice. And this is not a somber, funereal affair. They are to eat and be glad before Yahweh. True biblical worship is joyful. But notice the order. The gladness comes after the sacrifice. The feasting happens at the altar. Our joy is not a flimsy optimism that ignores our sin; it is a robust, blood-bought joy that is only possible because our sin has been dealt with at the cross. On the mountain of the curse, because of the altar, there is feasting and gladness.

v. 8 And you shall write on the stones all the words of this law very distinctly.”

The section concludes by reiterating the initial command, but with an added adverb: "very distinctly." The Hebrew word means to make it plain, to explain or engrave it clearly. God is not ambiguous. His standards are not fuzzy. The terms of the covenant, both the requirements of the law and the provision of the altar, are to be made unmistakably clear. There will be no excuse for ignorance. The curse is plain, and the way of salvation is just as plain.


Application

This ancient ceremony is a paradigm for our own worship and life. We live our entire Christian lives on Mount Ebal. We are sinners who live under the curse of the law, a curse that Christ took upon Himself for us. Our worship, therefore, must always keep the law and the gospel in this proper biblical tension. We must never preach a gospel that minimizes the unyielding demands of God's law, for that would make the cross unnecessary. And we must never preach the law without immediately pointing to the altar, Jesus Christ, who is our only hope of salvation from the curse the law pronounces.

Furthermore, this was a public, corporate act. Our faith is not a private, individualistic affair. We are constituted as a people, the church, by a public declaration of God's law and a corporate partaking of the gospel remedy. This is what we do every Lord's Day. The Word is read and preached distinctly, showing us our sin and God's grace. And we come to the altar, the Lord's Table, where we feast with gladness, celebrating the peace offering of Christ's body and blood. We are renewing our covenant, reminding ourselves that our only standing before God is on the ground of a sacrifice that makes it possible to rejoice, even on the mountain of the curse.