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Exodus 23 is part of a series of laws and regulations that Moses purportedly received directly from God atop Mt. Sinai and whose purpose is to flesh out the Ten Commandments and apply the Mosaic covenant in specific situations. Whereas “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor” is broad and possibly open to interpretation, Exodus 23:2–3 gets down to the nitty-gritty: “You shall not follow a majority in wrongdoing; when you bear witness in a lawsuit, you shall not side with the majority so as to pervert justice, nor shall you be partial to the poor in a lawsuit.”

The chapter contains other pithy applications of the Law, and in several cases offers a rationalization for obedience. For instance, “Keep far from a false charge, and do not kill the innocent and those in the right, for I [that is, God] will not acquit the guilty” (v. 7), and this one that with a bit of updating is highly relevant in our nation’s current political context: “You shall not oppress a resident alien; you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt” (v. 9). They may or may not have been slaves like the Israelites in Egypt, but our ancestors were all at one time “aliens” in America, so we ought to have compassion for the aliens, immigrants, and refugees in our midst today.

For my money, however, the most interesting and . . . I don’t know . . . charming of the injunctions in Exodus 23 comes in verse 5, which reads, “When you see the donkey of one who hates you struggling under its burden and you would hold back from setting it free, you must help to set it free.” Talk about specificity! It leads me to wonder how frequently donkeys in ancient Israel struggled under their burdens to the point that they needed to be “set free”? It seems to me that a more prudent course would be to refrain from overloading the beast in the first place. (But then, maybe that’s why the owner of the donkey hates you, because he’s dumb, and you have not been shy about pointing out that fact. Who knows? It’s all speculation at this point.)

The genius of this example, however, is that even in its minute particularity it communicates a principle that can be applied more broadly. Jesus enshrined this principle in what has come to be known as the Golden Rule: “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Matt 7:12) That’s what lies at the heart of the instruction about helping the donkey: if it were your donkey you would want help relieving it of its burden (if, in fact, you too were dumb enough to overload the poor thing).

Besides enacting the Golden Rule, this verse presents another principle: doing good is good for you. It doesn’t say so directly, but we can all attest to the good feeling we get when we help somebody, especially if that help has entailed a sacrifice on our part. When that sacrifice involves helping somebody we hate, or who hates us, it puts us in a class with the Good Samaritan. More importantly, by overcoming our inner resistance and helping free the donkey, we may take at least the first steps to turning an enemy into a friend, and isn’t that what the gospel is all about?

One last note on this verse: it shows God’s profound concern not only for human beings but also for God’s nonhuman creatures. It’s not just an object lesson; God cares about that donkey. When we begin to care about the web of creation in which we find ourselves as much as God cares about it, we may learn to grieve its hurts and work for its coming redemption, which is inextricably bound up with our own.

Grace and peace,
bob