‘After that he is sold he may be redeemed again; one of his brethren may redeem him.’—Lev. xxv. 48.

Our blessed Lord said in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.’ He did not come as a sweeping reformer to break down existing institutions, and sweep away the law of types; but He did come as the predicted Messiah, to fulfil the prophecies of those prophetic pictures, and to give a fresh dignity to the law in which they were embodied. In no instance, therefore, do you find Him violating the law. He swept away with a strong hand the vain traditions which men had added to it; but the law itself he always honoured, and His great complaint against the advocates of tradition was, ‘Ye do make void the commandments of the law by your traditions.’But it was not only in the practical details of life that He honoured the law, but in the whole great work of redemption. Every part of that wonderful work was an act of homage to the law. Not only did He obey it when He was come, but in the act of coming, or in other words, even in His incarnation, He showed His obedience.

This will be easily seen if you study the law of redemption as laid down in this chapter. The law is here given respecting one who had sold himself to a stranger. How many are there who, like the bondsman, have sold themselves to sin! But we must not stop to dwell on that. The poor man had sold himself and was a slave. Till the year of jubilee nothing could release him but redemption. But who should pay the redemption price? that was the question. A stranger was not at liberty to do so. However kindly disposed he might feel, he had no right or power to interfere. According to this 48th verse, the Redeemer must be one of his brethren. ‘One of his brethren may redeem him: either his uncle or his uncle’s son may redeem him, or any that is nigh of kin unto him of his family, may redeem him; or, if he be able, he may redeem himself.’ The slave himself might redeem himself if he had the power to do so. But what hope had that slave of procuring his own ransom when all his powers and all his time belonged to another? Who then could redeem him? Who could set him free?

The nearest of kin had the prior right, as we see in the case of Boaz and Ruth. But if he failed, the next in order of relationship might step in and take his place. But the redeemer must be a kinsman, and none but a kinsman could redeem. So closely are the two things identified, that redeemer and kinsman are both expressed by the same word in Hebrew. The same word stands for both, for the kinsman had the right of redemption, and the redeemer was obliged to have a blood relationship.

And now observe the manner in which our blessed Lord and Saviour obeyed the law.

We are all by nature in the position of the man that was sold. So St. Paul said of himself in his natural condition, ‘I am carnal, sold under sin,’ Rom. vii. 14; and therefore he described the law of evil within his nature warring against the law of his mind, ‘and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin which was in his members.’ There was therefore a captivity resulting from the sale.

But it is not only the original ruin of our human nature of which the expression is used in Scripture, for it is applied to the personal act of the individual sinner. Is there not an allusion to this very law in those passages which speak of persons having sold themselves? Ahab ‘sold himself to do evil.’ 1 Kings, xxi. 20. In 2 Kings, xvii. 17, the same is said of the children of Israel: ‘They sold themselves to do evil in the sight of the Lord.’ In Isaiah, L. 1, there is a distinct reference to the sale to a creditor,—‘Which of my creditors is it to whom I have sold you? Behold, for your iniquities have ye sold yourselves, and for your transgressions is your mother put away.’ And in Isa. lii. 3, a clear allusion to the redemption of the slave, ‘Ye have sold yourselves for nought; and ye shall be redeemed without money.’ The sinner, therefore, is like the man who sold himself. He has yielded himself to be the servant of sin. He obeys it, and he does its work. If he wishes to get free he cannot. He may long for liberty, but he cannot attain it. He may think with bitter regret of past folly that has led to his ruin. But regret cannot restore. Remorse cannot set him free. A slave he is, and a slave, unless saved by redemption, he must remain.

How, then, can such an one be redeemed? That is the question. It must clearly be by a redemption price. There was no redemption under the law without a ransom. In the case of the man who had sold himself, the price was the value of his service until the year of jubilee. In our case it was infinitely higher, for the Lord Jesus gave Himself ‘a ransom for all.’ The sinner sold himself, and the Lord Jesus gave Himself as a ransom, and because He has done so, God said by the prophet, ‘Ye shall be redeemed without money.’

But my object is to consider, not the ransom, but the Redeemer, and to examine who, according to the law, was qualified to redeem.

(1.) We cannot redeem ourselves.

It is clear that according to ver. 49, the slave, if he were able, might redeem himself. But it must have been very difficult for a slave, who had sold himself because he was ruined, to accumulate sufficient for his own redemption; and it is perfectly clear that it would be utterly impossible for us to accomplish any such redemption for ourselves. Multitudes have endeavoured to do so. They have striven to gain a freedom by tears and toils, and fastings, and almsdeeds, proportioned to the sin committed. But the only effect has been that the chain has been riveted more firmly than ever on their soul. Instead of providing a ransom they have daily increased their debt. And so it will ever be so long as man struggles to redeem himself. ‘It cost more to redeem their souls, so they must let that alone for ever.’

(2.) Then again, angels could not redeem us. Even if there had been any mighty archangel of such majesty as to produce a sufficient ransom, he would have been disqualified for the office, for the simple reason that he would not have been a kinsman. We know but little of the nature of angels, and we cannot realize a mighty spirit perfectly independent of the flesh. But this we know, that there is a clear and marked distinction between the nature of angels and the nature of man, for we read of our blessed Saviour, ‘He took not on him the nature of angels; but he took on him the seed of Abraham.’ Heb. ii. 16. The angels, therefore, are not our brethren. They are not kinsmen, and therefore were not qualified to redeem. Whatever benevolence they may have felt, and whatever compassion for us in our captivity, and whatever joy in our salvation, the whole host of angels and archangels were utterly disqualified to act as redeemers, and, whatever they offered, according to the law, they were unable to redeem.

(3.) But still more. Even the Son of God Himself, in His eternal Godhead, could not redeem, for there lay against Him the same disqualification. He was eternal, above man, and of a nature altogether different. As the heaven is high above the earth, so is His nature above ours. It is high, we cannot attain unto it. In His divine nature, therefore, our blessed Lord Himself was not a kinsman, and therefore by law He could not be a Redeemer. He was not one of the brethren of the bondsmen, and therefore could not redeem; and, whatever love He felt for us, He was excluded, according to the law, from showing it in redeeming mercy.

And now you see the homage paid to the law in His incarnation. When He took on Him our nature He became a kinsman, and could redeem. See how clearly this is put in Heb. ii. 14. ‘Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil.’ He identified Himself with them in nature in order that, being their kinsman, He might have the right of redemption. He took not on Him the nature of angels, for that would not have established a relationship with man, but He took on Him the seed of Abraham, and so became one with the great human family. The Levitical law, ver. 48, was, ‘One of his brethren may redeem him.’ So to carry out His own most gracious purpose of mercy, He took our nature, He made Himself a brother, and according to the 11th verse of that chapter in the Hebrews, ‘He is not ashamed to call us brethren.’

Just the same truth is taught us in Gal. iv. In ver. 3, we are described as bondsmen: ‘We were in bondage under the elements of the world.’ And when our Heavenly Father in boundless love undertook to save, what did He do? He first prepared a qualified Redeemer, and then that Redeemer redeemed us by His blood. ‘He sent forth his son, made of a woman, made under the law,’ qualified therefore in all respects, because He was of the same family ‘to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.’ He became a brother, and, being a brother, redeemed us by His blood. There was a double act of love and mercy: first, in assuming the relationship, and next, in availing himself of that relationship in stepping forth to pay the ransom for our release. Oh! who can tell the love of Christ? Who can sufficiently exalt His grace?

But now what is the position of all those that are in Him? What is the position of all you who have redemption through His blood? You were bondsmen once; sold under sin: sold by the act of Adam, and sold by your own conduct afterwards. As St. Paul says, Rom. vi. 17, ‘Ye were the servants’ or the slaves ‘of sin.’ But what are you now? Are you still slaves? No. Those only who are strangers to salvation in Christ Jesus are slaves. But you are not, for you are free. Your kinsman has appeared and paid the redemption price; so you are free: as completely free as if you had never been in bondage. The moment that the kinsman paid the ransom, the slave was free. He was not required to stop and inquire whether he deserved it or no. He was not obliged to wait and look into his feelings, and ascertain whether he felt it or no. The ransom was paid, and he was free, so that he might go home with a thankful heart to show his deep gratitude to the kinsman who had paid it. So it is with you if you be in Christ Jesus. The creditor has no hold on you, for your kinsman has come forward, and the whole ransom is paid. You are as completely free as you will be if you wait a hundred years. You cannot add anything to the ransom, and there is no need that you should do so, for all is paid, and paid in full. You may dwell therefore in perfect peace in your Father’s home, and with a thankful heart gather round your Father’s table, in the peaceful enjoyment of your Father’s fellowship, and your Father’s love.

But think how strange it would have been in olden times, if, when the kinsman had come forward and most kindly paid the redemption price, the poor bondsman had preferred captivity, and refused the liberty thus freely purchased for him by his brother. Such things apparently did happen sometimes, though they appear to us almost impossible; for, in Exod. xxi. 5, the servant is described as plainly saying, ‘I love my master . . . I will not go out free,’ and, when he said that he was taken to the door-post, and his ear was bored through in token that he was a slave for life. I do not know whether that often happened in ancient days, but I fear it is a very common occurrence now. The Son of God has become a kinsman on purpose to redeem, and as a kinsman has redeemed us by His blood. He has come to the master, and having broken all his legal power, has proclaimed liberty to the captive, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; but there sits the slave, content in his slavery, and plainly says, ‘I love my master; I will not go out free.’ How many are there even amongst ourselves thus indifferent to liberty! They know there is a deliverer; they have heard it: they have read it: they believe it. They know their kinsman has paid the ransom, so that, according to the covenant, they may be free. But they love the old sins, and the old ways, and the old habits, and they have no wish to be set free. They like the old associations, and a change of heart might cause a separation from their wives and their children, so they had rather go on as they are, the slaves of sin, the bondsmen of their own corruption. Is it unjust that such persons should never be set free? If the bondsman of old deliberately went to the door-post that his ear should be bored, was it unjust that he should be bound a slave for ever? and if any one of us with the grand offer of the freedom of the Gospel fully before him, prefers his bondage and will not accept the purchased freedom, is it unjust that that man should remain a miserable slave? Oh, that I could persuade those who have thus far been sitting still content with their captivity, to accept the freedom which their kinsman now offers them, so that henceforth we may change our note, and instead of saying, ‘The ransom is paid, come home and enjoy your freedom,’ we may say to them in the full enjoyment of their Father’s loving home, ‘Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free.’