When a man marries a woman and she finds no favor in his eyes "because he has found some indecency in her," and he writes her a certificate of divorce and sends her away... (a paraphrase of Deuteronomy 24:1).

It is true that the Bible never commands divorce for any reason, yet there is language suggesting that in some instances divorce was allowed. This is perhaps the primary passage supporting such an allowance. Yet even in this allowance there is an implied limitation: "he has found some indecency in her." Commentators suggest that if this indecency were fornication, adultery, or any of the sexual sins listed in Leviticus 18, the death penalty would have applied (cf. Deuteronomy 22:13–21); so they suggest it was something short of these. I understand this perspective, and it is widely held.

But here is another possibility. Could the indecency the husband found rise to the level of fornication, adultery, or the sins of Leviticus 18, but he chose simply to divorce his wife quietly rather than expose her to public shame, excommunication, and even death? In other words, he could have brought her before the authorities, but chose not to. Is there a law requiring him to expose her sin?

Consider a similar situation in the account of Christ's conception. Mary was betrothed to Joseph, and before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit; and Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly (a paraphrase of Matthew 1:18–19).

I realize that Joseph and Mary were only betrothed, while in Deuteronomy 24 the marriage has taken place ("When a man takes a wife and marries her..."). Regardless, both treat the separation as divorce. And keep in mind that these things were permitted and done under the Old Covenant Mosaic Law.

Friends, the Bible clearly teaches that God hates divorce (cf. Malachi 2:16). It is contrary to God's original design (cf. Matthew 19:8). I believe there is no allowance for it for the Christian, for marriage is as unbreakable as one's relationship to Christ (cf. Ephesians 5:22–33). So to those who are contemplating divorce for one reason or another, I urge you to put it out of your minds. Hold fast to your promise before God: "till death do us part."

AI-Expanded Reflection

Deuteronomy 24:1–4 is actually a single long sentence in Hebrew whose main command comes at the end: a man who divorced his wife may not remarry her after she has married another. The passage regulates divorce rather than instituting it, and the requirement of a written certificate gave the woman legal protection and freedom to remarry. The meaning of "some indecency" (literally "a nakedness of a thing") was debated vigorously in Jesus' day. The school of Shammai limited it to serious sexual immorality; the school of Hillel allowed divorce for almost any cause. When the Pharisees asked Jesus whether divorce was lawful "for any cause" (Matthew 19:3), they were inviting Him into that debate — and He pointed them back to creation: "What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate" (19:6).

Christians hold several views on divorce and remarriage. Some, like the comment, hold that the New Testament permits no divorce for believers. Many others understand Jesus' "except for sexual immorality" (Matthew 19:9) and Paul's words about an unbelieving spouse who departs (1 Corinthians 7:15) as permitting divorce in limited circumstances, and many pastors and theologians across traditions also recognize abandonment and abuse as grounds for separation. All agree with the comment that marriage is a sacred covenant God intends to be lifelong. And it is important to say clearly that no one is required by Scripture to remain in danger: those facing abuse should seek safety and help.

In the middle of various civil and moral laws, Moses suddenly turns to the Amalekites, telling Israel not to forget them. Why? Exodus 17:8–16 records their first encounter — the Amalekites attacked Israel at Rephidim, though no further detail is given there beyond Joshua's fight against them while Aaron and Hur held up Moses's hands.

Here in Deuteronomy, though, we learn the Amalekites specifically attacked those who were "weary and worn out," lagging behind the rest of the group — likely the elderly, sick, women, and young children. This happened in the second month after leaving Egypt, when Israel was physically exhausted, hungry, and thirsty (Rephidim is where God provided water from the rock after their complaints).

Because of this shameless act, the LORD tells Israel to blot out Amalek's name from under heaven entirely (Deuteronomy 25:19). Moses explains that because hands were raised against the LORD's own throne, God would be at war with Amalek from generation to generation (a paraphrase of Exodus 17:16). God cares deeply for the weary and worn out, and this attack on them was treated as a direct assault on Him personally. Dealing with Amalek becomes a matter of justice, entrusted to the next generation of Israel about to enter the Promised Land.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The specific target of this attack — the weakest and most vulnerable stragglers rather than Israel's armed forces — is worth naming as exactly the kind of act ancient warfare codes across many cultures still generally condemned as beyond acceptable conduct, not merely a harsh but ordinary act of war. That distinction may explain the disproportionate, generational severity of God's response here compared to His treatment of other hostile nations — this wasn't simply military aggression, but a deliberate assault on the defenseless specifically because they were defenseless, which Scripture treats as its own distinct category of evil deserving its own distinct, lasting judgment.

All the instructions in these chapters are genuinely disturbing, and remind me of what Solomon says in Ecclesiastes — whatever has happened will happen again, whatever's been done will be done again, nothing is truly new under the sun (a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 1:9). I've heard people claim kids today are uniquely bad, or that the end of the world must be near because people have become so wicked. Is that really true? I don't think we're any better or worse than previous generations — we're simply wicked, regardless of generation, apart from God's merciful intervention. Yet even though there's nothing new under the sun, we've become an entirely new creation through Christ — the old has gone, the new has come (a paraphrase of 2 Corinthians 5:17). So we're obligated to live according to the Spirit, with our minds set on Him. God's law is no longer a burden, but a joy, since we know our obedience pleases Him. May all praise be to Him forever!

In Christ, Stephen

AI-Expanded Reflection

The tension this comment holds together — humanity's unchanging wickedness alongside genuine, real transformation in Christ — is worth naming directly, since it isn't actually a contradiction. Ecclesiastes describes the human condition considered generally, apart from divine intervention; Paul's "new creation" describes what happens specifically once that intervention occurs. Both statements can be entirely true at once: nothing about fallen human nature has changed across the centuries, and yet something has genuinely, decisively changed for anyone now in Christ — the "nothing new under the sun" describes the world's default condition, not the exception grace creates within it.