Leviticus Chapter 27 – A Commentary, Verse-by-Verse, With Hebrew & Greek Notes
There’s something oddly tender about Leviticus 27. After all the fire and smoke and strict holiness codes, the chapter feels like a gentle closing door… or maybe a lingering hand on the frame before the door finally shuts. The book doesn’t end with thunder. It ends with vows, devotion, things people promised to God, and how those promises were handled.
Honestly it surprised me the first time I paid attention. I expected a big dramatic ending, but instead you get this slow, steady conversation about offerings, valuations, and devotion. And somehow, it’s beautiful in its own quiet way.
You smell the dust of the old tabernacle courts in these verses. You hear the murmuring of people making vows in moments of crisis or joy — “Lord, if You deliver me…” “Lord, if You bless me…” You can almost taste the seriousness in their voices. Not fear really, but that trembling kind of respect that sits deep inside your chest.
Verse 1–2 – The Valuation of Persons
Hebrew note: The word for “vow” is נֶדֶר – neder, meaning a binding promise, something dedicated.
Greek LXX: Uses εὐχή – euchē, meaning a vow, prayer, wish made unto God.
“Speak unto the children of Israel… when a man shall make a singular vow…”
The phrase “singular vow” in Hebrew is נֶדֶר בְּעֶרְכְּךָ (neder b’erkekha).
That word ’erekh (עֶרֶךְ) is interesting. It doesn’t just mean “value,” like a price tag in a shop. It means assessment, worth measured by the sanctuary’s scale. It’s not emotional worth. It's not human dignity. It's more administrative — the cost required to fulfill the vow.
Sometimes people dedicated themselves — or more literally “the value of themselves” — to the Lord in thanksgiving or desperation. Maybe someone was healed, maybe they survived a storm, maybe their field finally produced grain after years of dryness. Something moved them deeply enough that they said, “I give myself to God,” and the priest would assign a redemption value.
It feels uncomfortable to modern ears, people being “valued.” But the point was not about dignity, but about vow seriousness. Not to make promises without thinking. Not to bargain impulsively with heaven.
I’ve done that before, honestly. Whispered something desperate. And then… later, kind of forgot. This chapter pulls me back and says: If you vow something to God, mean it.
Verse 3–8 – Male and Female Valuations
The valuations depend on age and physical ability.
Not value of the soul — but of expected labor capacity in that ancient world.
Hebrew:
Greek:
-
ἄρσην – arsen
-
θήλεια – thēleia
Verse 3 starts with males 20–60 years old valued at 50 shekels of silver.
We’re tempted to say, “that’s unfair to other groups,” but remember: this is ancient economic assessment, not moral or spiritual ranking. A man in his prime years had the highest agricultural labor output. That’s it.
The text goes on—
females valued at 30 shekels, older men at 15, older women at 10, younger ones at different rates. And at first glance, all these numbers feel cold… almost like you're reading a tax ledger. But if you lean in, you hear something else:
God is organizing a way for people to fulfill promises without being crushed.
And there’s a tenderness in verse 8:
“But if he be poorer than thy valuation, then he shall present himself… and the priest shall value him according to his ability.”
There it is.
The Hebrew word מַשְּׂגֶת – masseghet means what his hand can reach.
The Greek renders it *ὅσα ἂν δύνηται – whatever he is able.
God is saying: Don’t let someone despair because they made a promise they can’t fulfill.
I like that. It tastes like mercy. It smells almost sweet in the middle of a lot of rule-heavy chapters.
Verse 9–13 – Animals Devoted to the LORD
If someone vowed an animal to God, it became קֹדֶשׁ – qodesh, holy.
Holy doesn’t mean “glowing with light.”
It means set apart, removed from normal purpose.
Verse 10 says:
“He shall not alter it, nor change it, a good for a bad, or a bad for a good.”
The Greek uses ἀλλάξει – allaxei, meaning to exchange.
Why so strict?
Because humans — we bargain. We vow the best, then try to redeem it with something cheaper. It’s like promising your best bull but showing up later with a skinny goat. It smells like dishonesty, like sour milk. God wanted no shady swapping.
If someone did attempt to substitute, both animals became holy.
A little divine humor? Maybe.
A little divine discipline? Definitely.
Verse 14–15 – Houses Dedicated to God
This part always feels vivid to me. Someone might vow their house—their dwelling, the walls they wake up inside, the place where bread bakes, where children sleep, where the sound of grinding grain fills the evening air.
When someone dedicates a house, the priest evaluates it.
If the person wants it back, he adds a fifth—20%.
The Hebrew phrase is וְיָסַף חֲמִשִּׁית – veyasaf chamishit.
The Greek: προσθήσει τὸ πέμπτον – he shall add the fifth.
Meaning:
If you want your dedicated thing back, there’s a cost—not a punishment, but a recognition that holy things are serious.
I always imagine the smell of wood beams and clay plaster as the priest walks around, tapping the walls, assessing. The sounds of sandals scraping the floor. The slight earthy scent of stored grain. It's oddly intimate.
Verse 16–21 – Fields Dedicated to the LORD
Now we move to agricultural land, which was life itself in those days.
The word for field is שָׂדֶה – sadeh, but it carries more than “land.”
It means the open place, the livelihood-sustainer, the stretch of soil that answers a man’s sweat with wheat.
The valuation was based on:
Why Jubilee?
Because in Leviticus 25 we learned that fields revert to their ancestral families at Jubilee. So you couldn’t permanently give away the land God tied to your family name.
The chapter ties vows to the economic rhythm of God’s land ownership.
Verse 19 says if the dedicator wants the field back, he adds the fifth.
But verse 20–21 says if he refuses to redeem it or sells it to someone else before Jubilee, then it becomes permanently holy to the Lord, and the priest owns it in trust.
A strange detail, but it reminds Israel:
You can’t play games with consecration.
You don’t vow casually.
You don’t treat holy things like bargaining chips.
It hits me with that prickly feeling on the back of my neck — seriousness, like being in a very quiet room where every sound echoes.
Verse 22–25 – Bought Fields Dedicated to God
A person could also vow a field they purchased, but since that field would return to the original family at Jubilee, it was valued differently.
The Hebrew is careful here.
The Greek too, using ἀγορασθῇ – agorasthei, “bought.”
Basically the priest calculates the value only up to Jubilee.
This keeps everything fair.
Verse 24 says it returns to the original owner in Jubilee, not the person who vowed it.
This prevents someone from using vows to transfer property permanently.
God protects family inheritance lines.
He doesn’t let religious devotion accidentally ruin households.
It’s strangely compassionate, and wise.
Verse 26–27 – Firstlings of Animals
The firstborn of animals already belonged to God by law, so they couldn’t be vowed again.
Hebrew בְּכוֹר – bekhor means firstborn, the first fruits of the womb.
Greek πρωτότοκον – prōtotokon.
If someone tried to vow what already belonged to God—
well, that’s like “giving” someone a gift that belongs to them already.
You can’t give what isn’t yours.
If the animal was unclean, it could be redeemed with the 20% addition.
Verse 28–29 – Devoted Things (Cherem)
Now we step into deeper waters.
The Hebrew word חֵרֶם – cherem is heavy. It means devoted to destruction, utterly given over, irrevocably dedicated.
Some things, the chapter says, cannot be redeemed.
They are “most holy.”
This is not the same as the normal vow (neder).
This is a higher, weightier category.
Verse 29, often misunderstood, says:
“None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death.”
This isn’t talking about casual dedication.
It refers to people under a legal sentence of death—criminals judged by the community for capital offenses. They couldn’t escape judgment by being “devoted” to God instead.
It’s a legal safeguard, not a spiritual instruction to kill people because of vows.
The Greek clarifies it:
πᾶν ἄνθρωπον, ὃς ἂν δοθῇ – any man who is given over (judged).
It’s stern, but again, it’s justice language, not worship language.
Verse 30–33 – The Tithe Belongs to the LORD
Finally, the chapter turns to tithes, מעשר – ma‘aser, from the word for “ten.”
The Greek uses δεκάτη – dekatē.
Tithing wasn’t a vow.
It was simply returning to God what was His—grain, wine, oil, animals passing under the rod.
Verse 30 says:
“It is holy unto the LORD.”
Holy meaning:
It belongs to Him. Period.
If someone wanted to redeem part of the tithe, guess what?
Add the fifth.
Verse 32 describes animals passing under the rod — every tenth one marked for God.
You didn’t pick the best or the worst. You counted.
And whatever was tenth belonged to Him.
Verse 33 warns against swapping.
Because we love upgrading or downgrading based on preference.
God says, “Don’t manipulate generosity. Be honest.”
I can imagine the scene: a shepherd tapping animals with a rod, the bleating sound echoing, dust rising under hooves, the tenth sheep marked with a smear of dye. A simple, earthy act of worship.
Verse 34 – The Closing Line
“These are the commandments, which the LORD commanded Moses for the children of Israel in mount Sinai.”
The final verse quietly seals the book.
Not loud.
Not thunderous.
Just a gentle summary.
The Heart of Leviticus 27
Through all the valuations and percentages and redemption rules, there’s this quiet heartbeat:
God cares about the integrity of promises.
God makes space for human weakness.
God treats devotion seriously but mercifully.
Every time I read the chapter, I feel this blend of holy gravity and gentle patience. Like a father saying, “If you make a promise, keep it… but if you can’t, come talk to Me. I understand.”
There’s also this sense of order, of protecting families from ruin, of making sure faith never becomes an excuse for manipulating property or escaping justice.
It’s earthy holiness.
Practical spirituality.
And oddly comforting.
Hebrew & Greek Word Comparison Summary
| Concept | Hebrew | Meaning | Greek (LXX) | Meaning |
|---|
| Vow | נֶדֶר (neder) | binding promise | εὐχή (euchē) | vow, prayer |
| Value | עֶרֶךְ (’erekh) | assessment | ἀξία (axia) | value |
| Holy | קֹדֶשׁ (qodesh) | set apart | ἅγιον (hagion) | holy |
| Firstborn | בְּכוֹר (bekhor) | firstborn | πρωτότοκον (prōtotokon) | firstborn |
| Tithe | מַעֲשֵׂר (ma‘aser) | tenth portion | δεκάτη (dekatē) | tenth |
These were not cold terms.
They carried the weight of real lives—fields, animals, hardship, joy, gratitude, tears, harvests.
Final Reflection
Leviticus 27 is the quiet whisper at the end of a long instruction.
It’s a reminder that devotion is not just emotion — it’s responsibility.
That holiness includes honesty.
That God doesn’t want rash promises, but thoughtful giving.
And that He always leaves a door open for those who made promises they didn’t fully understand at the time.
There’s something deeply human in this chapter… and something deeply divine.
If Leviticus began with sacrifices rising in smoke, it ends with vows rising from human hearts.
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