Again in chapter 31 of Numbers we have another example of the kind of total war of conquest the Israelites will wage in their conquest of Canaan. The intention is nothing short of genocide. When the triumphant Israelite warriors bring back the women and children of the slain Midianites, Moses, aware of the corrupting influence these captives will have upon the people, orders all the women who are not virgins and all the male children killed. Only virgins and female children are spared, in order to be given to Israelite men in what we would call "rape-marriages." We may be horrified by a story like this, but sadly we have not passed this stage in the moral development of our species. This is exactly the sort of thing that has happened in our own time in places like Bosnia and Darfur—rape being used as a weapon to demoralize and exterminate an enemy people.
We are not likely to see narratives like this as neither heroic nor particularly interesting. But they demonstrate the LORD's call to his people to follow him "unreservedly" (32:11). When the tribes of Reuben and Gad want to remain on the far side of Jordan with their herds and their little ones, the Lord is angry with them (32:10) because they have been influenced by other, lesser considerations rather than giving him the uncompromising obedience he demands. They are distracted from their true purpose.
The call to unreserved obedience is a theme that we will see running through all of scripture. Sin is doing less than that call requires, and sin has consequences. In the conquest of Canaan, the Lord demands that the Israelites drive out the inhabitants of the land completely, and he delivers a dire a warning about what anything less than total compliance will mean. He says, "If you do not drive out the inhabitants of the land from before you, then those whom you let remain shall be as barbs in your eyes and thorns in your sides; they shall trouble you in the land where you are settling. And I will do to you as I thought to do to them" (33:55-56).
There is a thinly veiled threat in that last verse that will be played out later. Obedience brings blessing, but anything less than total obedience will have tragic consequences—this we will see played out in our continuing reading.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Day 48. Numbers 27-30
Our reading for today presents us with a wonderful story of the empowerment of women and an insight into the formation of Torah law in Israel. That law is not immutable—it can be influenced by a demand for fairness, as we see in the case of the daughters of Zelophehad.
They come to the entrance of the tent of meeting and present themselves before the assembly with a plea for justice. Their father is dead; the women themselves are unmarried, and they have no brothers. They find themselves non-persons—dispossessed by their situation--unable to claim the acreage in the Promised Land which would have come to their father by right. They come to Moses and the leaders of the people demanding "a possession [of land] among our father's brothers" (27:4).
We have noted that there were powerful and respected women in Israel, and sometimes, like Miriam, they made a bid to share in decision-making process. But most of the time women are pushed into the background. It took great courage for the daughters of Zelophehad to make such an audacious demand of a society dominated by men. But this story demonstrates that in Israel women had the right to appeal unjust laws, and they could expect that their case would be taken seriously and carried to the highest court.
So in 27:5 Moses takes their plea directly to the LORD. And the LORD, who is both just and merciful, says—"The daughters of Zelophehad are right. . . . . You shall indeed let them possess an inheritance" (27:7). The law is changed and these single women are given an allotment of the Promised Land. So God effectively changes the inheritance laws of the Torah to incorporate their rights as part of the people of the promise. It is indeed a powerful story.
The place of women within the People of the Promise is a complex one. As we read through the Old Testament, we will see that again and again women have to struggle for justice within the system where the cards are stacked against them. They have to rely on their own cleverness, boldness, and sexuality assets to prevail. And they do prevail—against great odds. The Bible is a collection of stories about freedom, national and personal.
Yet in the Old Testament the balance is always weighted on the side of authority over freedom, the rights of the community over the rights of the individual. So in the laws regarding vows made by women in Numbers, chapter 30, we find that women have the right to make Nazirite vows (remember these from Chapter 6) only if their husbands or fathers do not immediately protest. A male veto cancels any vow a woman may make on her own and will effectively block her spiritual aspirations. When it comes to such vows, if "her husband has nullified them," his word goes. And if a woman is forced to break her own vows "the LORD will forgive her" (30:12). But the LORD stands with the authority of the husband in these cases.
Custom and prejudice are powerful barriers to the freedom of women in both Old and New Testaments. Often the rights of women in the Bible are not considered until they force the issue, as the daughters of Zelophehad do in our reading. The Christian Gospels are filled with stories of "uppity" women who overcome all sorts of prejudice to receive their fair share of the freedom the gospel promises. The struggle for freedom is a theme to which we will return again and again as we continue our reading together.
They come to the entrance of the tent of meeting and present themselves before the assembly with a plea for justice. Their father is dead; the women themselves are unmarried, and they have no brothers. They find themselves non-persons—dispossessed by their situation--unable to claim the acreage in the Promised Land which would have come to their father by right. They come to Moses and the leaders of the people demanding "a possession [of land] among our father's brothers" (27:4).
We have noted that there were powerful and respected women in Israel, and sometimes, like Miriam, they made a bid to share in decision-making process. But most of the time women are pushed into the background. It took great courage for the daughters of Zelophehad to make such an audacious demand of a society dominated by men. But this story demonstrates that in Israel women had the right to appeal unjust laws, and they could expect that their case would be taken seriously and carried to the highest court.
So in 27:5 Moses takes their plea directly to the LORD. And the LORD, who is both just and merciful, says—"The daughters of Zelophehad are right. . . . . You shall indeed let them possess an inheritance" (27:7). The law is changed and these single women are given an allotment of the Promised Land. So God effectively changes the inheritance laws of the Torah to incorporate their rights as part of the people of the promise. It is indeed a powerful story.
The place of women within the People of the Promise is a complex one. As we read through the Old Testament, we will see that again and again women have to struggle for justice within the system where the cards are stacked against them. They have to rely on their own cleverness, boldness, and sexuality assets to prevail. And they do prevail—against great odds. The Bible is a collection of stories about freedom, national and personal.
Yet in the Old Testament the balance is always weighted on the side of authority over freedom, the rights of the community over the rights of the individual. So in the laws regarding vows made by women in Numbers, chapter 30, we find that women have the right to make Nazirite vows (remember these from Chapter 6) only if their husbands or fathers do not immediately protest. A male veto cancels any vow a woman may make on her own and will effectively block her spiritual aspirations. When it comes to such vows, if "her husband has nullified them," his word goes. And if a woman is forced to break her own vows "the LORD will forgive her" (30:12). But the LORD stands with the authority of the husband in these cases.
Custom and prejudice are powerful barriers to the freedom of women in both Old and New Testaments. Often the rights of women in the Bible are not considered until they force the issue, as the daughters of Zelophehad do in our reading. The Christian Gospels are filled with stories of "uppity" women who overcome all sorts of prejudice to receive their fair share of the freedom the gospel promises. The struggle for freedom is a theme to which we will return again and again as we continue our reading together.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Day 47. Numbers 24-26
In our reading for today we hear the last of Balaam's oracles. Balaam is not Israelite; he is a foreigner, but he knows the LORD, and he is unshakeable in his integrity—"What the LORD says, that is what I will say" (Numbers 24:13). And our encounter with this righteous foreigner gives us some clues as to what it means to be a prophet and speak the word of the LORD.
A prophet is one upon whom the "spirit of God" has come to rest in a unique way, and that spirit gives a special clarity of vision, an insight into the real situation of things which goes beyond mere appearances (Numbers 24:2-3). Sometimes the prophetic insight is a glimpse into the future events, or but more often, as in the case of Balaam, it is simply a clear-sighted interpretation of God's will in the present.
The prophet is a "seer"--one who not only hears the voice of God speaking, but also "sees the vision of the Almighty" (24:4). The revelations the prophet receives are as at least as much visual as they are auditory. This encounter with the divine comes as a waking dream--something like a violent seizure. The prophet, says Balaam, "falls down, but with eyes uncovered" (24:4). And the prophet's oracles are outbursts of ecstatic speech which are beyond the control of the speaker and for which he is not responsible.
The prophet Balaam is hired by the Balak, the king of Moab, to curse the children of Israel, but in each attempt he is constrained by the spirit of the LORD to bless them instead. When he realizes he is not getting his money's worth, King Balak's anger [is] kindled against Balaam, and he angrily dismisses him (24:10).
But the prophet turns on his erstwhile employer and curses not only the nation of Moab (24:17), but several of Israel's other hostile neighbors. These nations roundabout are persistent danger to the People of the Covenant because, although they are racially and linguistically similar to Israel, they have a radically different religious faith. Their idolatry is as seductive to Israel as their women are.
The disturbing account found in chapter 24 illustrates the dangers of cultural mixing for the covenant people and the tragic consequences of intermarriage with foreigners. The men of Israel have "sexual relations" with the women of Moab, and this leads to the worship of Baal of Peor, a powerful local deity. In response the LORD commands Moses to take drastic action, and he orders that the "chiefs of Israel" be "impaled" in the sun (25:4).
Modern readers will have a hard time with this passage, and no less with the one that follows where Phinehas, the son of high priest Eleazar, kills a high-ranking Israelite and his foreign wife with a spear. The LORD commends "such zeal" on his behalf, and credits it for saving the people from a plague that would otherwise have consumed them (25:10). We are appalled.
But when we began to read through the Old Testament together in a systematic way, we entered a foreign world with values strange to our own. If we read only selected passages from the Old Testament, we could avoid the violence and savagery of passages like these and pretend they don't exist. But they do, and we can't pretend otherwise.
So how should we look at these passages in the light of our Christian faith?
Well, first of all, we need to remind ourselves that in the Old Testament the sufferings of Israel—plagues, set-backs in war, exile--are seen as a direct result of Israel's unfaithfulness to the covenant made with LORD at Mount Sinai. That covenant is a great experiment in righteousness. Can God and humankind live in relationship? They live together as partners in the creation of a new humanity?
The unfaithfulness of Israel and the idolatry that results from too close a contact with its pagan neighbors threatens that whole divine experiment. The existence of the covenant people, the story of God's offer of friendship to humankind is in jeopardy. Radical danger calls for violent solutions.
And second of all, we need to remember that toleration is not a virtue in the world we have entered; it is the supreme vice. Purity in the Old Testament is held up as the ideal above everything else. The LORD does not compromise with evil, and he allows no compromises in his people. The purity of their God demands purity in his people.
But how do we reconcile this jealous, vengeful God with the one who reveals himself as one of love and mercy through Jesus Christ? Well, that is a difficult task, but not impossible, I think. And it is the task we have set for ourselves as we go forward with our reading. . . . .
A prophet is one upon whom the "spirit of God" has come to rest in a unique way, and that spirit gives a special clarity of vision, an insight into the real situation of things which goes beyond mere appearances (Numbers 24:2-3). Sometimes the prophetic insight is a glimpse into the future events, or but more often, as in the case of Balaam, it is simply a clear-sighted interpretation of God's will in the present.
The prophet is a "seer"--one who not only hears the voice of God speaking, but also "sees the vision of the Almighty" (24:4). The revelations the prophet receives are as at least as much visual as they are auditory. This encounter with the divine comes as a waking dream--something like a violent seizure. The prophet, says Balaam, "falls down, but with eyes uncovered" (24:4). And the prophet's oracles are outbursts of ecstatic speech which are beyond the control of the speaker and for which he is not responsible.
The prophet Balaam is hired by the Balak, the king of Moab, to curse the children of Israel, but in each attempt he is constrained by the spirit of the LORD to bless them instead. When he realizes he is not getting his money's worth, King Balak's anger [is] kindled against Balaam, and he angrily dismisses him (24:10).
But the prophet turns on his erstwhile employer and curses not only the nation of Moab (24:17), but several of Israel's other hostile neighbors. These nations roundabout are persistent danger to the People of the Covenant because, although they are racially and linguistically similar to Israel, they have a radically different religious faith. Their idolatry is as seductive to Israel as their women are.
The disturbing account found in chapter 24 illustrates the dangers of cultural mixing for the covenant people and the tragic consequences of intermarriage with foreigners. The men of Israel have "sexual relations" with the women of Moab, and this leads to the worship of Baal of Peor, a powerful local deity. In response the LORD commands Moses to take drastic action, and he orders that the "chiefs of Israel" be "impaled" in the sun (25:4).
Modern readers will have a hard time with this passage, and no less with the one that follows where Phinehas, the son of high priest Eleazar, kills a high-ranking Israelite and his foreign wife with a spear. The LORD commends "such zeal" on his behalf, and credits it for saving the people from a plague that would otherwise have consumed them (25:10). We are appalled.
But when we began to read through the Old Testament together in a systematic way, we entered a foreign world with values strange to our own. If we read only selected passages from the Old Testament, we could avoid the violence and savagery of passages like these and pretend they don't exist. But they do, and we can't pretend otherwise.
So how should we look at these passages in the light of our Christian faith?
Well, first of all, we need to remind ourselves that in the Old Testament the sufferings of Israel—plagues, set-backs in war, exile--are seen as a direct result of Israel's unfaithfulness to the covenant made with LORD at Mount Sinai. That covenant is a great experiment in righteousness. Can God and humankind live in relationship? They live together as partners in the creation of a new humanity?
The unfaithfulness of Israel and the idolatry that results from too close a contact with its pagan neighbors threatens that whole divine experiment. The existence of the covenant people, the story of God's offer of friendship to humankind is in jeopardy. Radical danger calls for violent solutions.
And second of all, we need to remember that toleration is not a virtue in the world we have entered; it is the supreme vice. Purity in the Old Testament is held up as the ideal above everything else. The LORD does not compromise with evil, and he allows no compromises in his people. The purity of their God demands purity in his people.
But how do we reconcile this jealous, vengeful God with the one who reveals himself as one of love and mercy through Jesus Christ? Well, that is a difficult task, but not impossible, I think. And it is the task we have set for ourselves as we go forward with our reading. . . . .
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Day 46. Numbers 21-23
The story of the bronze serpent in our reading for today has an element of strangeness about it. It is a peculiar account to find in this context. The first of the commandments forbade the making of any "graven Image," and yet here the LORD himself authorizes the making of an image, a serpent to be put on a pole.
The people of Israel, we are told, grumbled about the grub the LORD provides—and not for the first time. An angry God sends a plague of serpents among them—my translation (NRS) calls the serpents "poisonous" (Numbers 21:6), but they are literally called "fiery serpents"—"fiery" is a word used elsewhere in the scriptures to describe angels. These fire-snakes, we suppose, are not ordinary poisonous snakes but supernatural creatures. And strange and "magical" means are necessary to deal with their fatal bites.
Moses is instructed by the LORD to make a "fiery serpent" of bronze and put it on a pole. While the "real" serpents swarmed about their feet, the Israelites were told to look up at the "fake" serpent on the pole for healing and life. Here the bronze serpent on the pole is a sign of God's grace and forgiveness—and it is in that sense that Jesus uses it as figure of his own death of the cross in John 3.
But this serpent image could easily be misunderstood. In the ancient world, serpents were often the symbols of the gods of the underworld, and in 2 Kings 18:1-4 the bronze serpent Moses made had to be destroyed by King Hezekiah because the people were worshipping it as a god and making offerings to it.
We cannot be surprised to hear in Chapter 20 that the various regional kings do not want to allow Israel to pass through their territories. They were under no illusions about the intentions of this warlike people. When Israel wages war it is total war. Look at the fate of King Og of Bashan. Acting under the command of the Lord, it says that the army of Israel "killed him, his sons, and all his people, until there was no survivor left; and they took possession of his land" (21:35). This is to be the program for the conquest of Canaan—a complete purification by sword and fire that is intended to leave behind no vestige of paganism to corrupt the People of the Promise.
In the light of the fierceness of the foe gathered at his borders, it is no wonder that Balak, the king of Moab, seeks supernatural aid to deal with such a formidable enemy. He commissions a powerful prophet named Balaam to curse the people of Israel.
Balaam was a formidable person in his own right. He is mentioned in ancient sources outside the Bible as a great prophet. We don't know a great deal about this mysterious figure, but Balak has supreme confidence in his powers. It is not an idle compliment when he says—"I know that whomever you bless is blessed, and whomever you curse is cursed" (22:6).
But we quickly discover that Balaam knows the LORD—we aren't told how—and that God speaks to Balaam (22:12)—presumably in dreams. Furthermore Balaam is obedient to the LORD. "I could not go beyond the command of the LORD my God," he says, "to do less or more" (22:18). So Balaam is a legitimate prophet, but he lives outside the life of the Covenant People, and so he is certain ways blind to the presence of God, as the story of the donkey humorously demonstrates.
Balaam is riding along on his donkey on his way to fulfill his commission from the king of Moab, when he encounters the Angel of the LORD "as his adversary" (22:22) in a narrow place. His donkey cowers and will not go forward, and Balaam, furious with his disobedience, beats the poor beast fiercely. This happens three times before the donkey is given the power of speech and asks, "What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?" (22:28)
The story is a parable. A donkey is wiser than the prophet who does not listen to the words of the LORD. The donkey makes a fool of the prophet.
Now Balaam sees the angel, who says—"The donkey saw me, and turned away from me these three times. If it had not turned away from me, surely just now I would have killed you and let it live" (22:33). You owe your life to the animal you have mistreated.
Humiliated, the prophet confesses that he has sinned and offers to go home. But the LORD has other plans. The donkey has made a fool of the prophet, and now God will use the prophet to make a fool of the king of Moab. Each time he is called upon to curse Israel from a different vantage point, he instead blesses the People of the Promise. "I received a command to bless," the prophet tells the angry king. "The LORD has blessed, and I cannot revoke it" (23:21). The LORD is behind his people; no one can stand against them.
The people of Israel, we are told, grumbled about the grub the LORD provides—and not for the first time. An angry God sends a plague of serpents among them—my translation (NRS) calls the serpents "poisonous" (Numbers 21:6), but they are literally called "fiery serpents"—"fiery" is a word used elsewhere in the scriptures to describe angels. These fire-snakes, we suppose, are not ordinary poisonous snakes but supernatural creatures. And strange and "magical" means are necessary to deal with their fatal bites.
Moses is instructed by the LORD to make a "fiery serpent" of bronze and put it on a pole. While the "real" serpents swarmed about their feet, the Israelites were told to look up at the "fake" serpent on the pole for healing and life. Here the bronze serpent on the pole is a sign of God's grace and forgiveness—and it is in that sense that Jesus uses it as figure of his own death of the cross in John 3.
But this serpent image could easily be misunderstood. In the ancient world, serpents were often the symbols of the gods of the underworld, and in 2 Kings 18:1-4 the bronze serpent Moses made had to be destroyed by King Hezekiah because the people were worshipping it as a god and making offerings to it.
We cannot be surprised to hear in Chapter 20 that the various regional kings do not want to allow Israel to pass through their territories. They were under no illusions about the intentions of this warlike people. When Israel wages war it is total war. Look at the fate of King Og of Bashan. Acting under the command of the Lord, it says that the army of Israel "killed him, his sons, and all his people, until there was no survivor left; and they took possession of his land" (21:35). This is to be the program for the conquest of Canaan—a complete purification by sword and fire that is intended to leave behind no vestige of paganism to corrupt the People of the Promise.
In the light of the fierceness of the foe gathered at his borders, it is no wonder that Balak, the king of Moab, seeks supernatural aid to deal with such a formidable enemy. He commissions a powerful prophet named Balaam to curse the people of Israel.
Balaam was a formidable person in his own right. He is mentioned in ancient sources outside the Bible as a great prophet. We don't know a great deal about this mysterious figure, but Balak has supreme confidence in his powers. It is not an idle compliment when he says—"I know that whomever you bless is blessed, and whomever you curse is cursed" (22:6).
But we quickly discover that Balaam knows the LORD—we aren't told how—and that God speaks to Balaam (22:12)—presumably in dreams. Furthermore Balaam is obedient to the LORD. "I could not go beyond the command of the LORD my God," he says, "to do less or more" (22:18). So Balaam is a legitimate prophet, but he lives outside the life of the Covenant People, and so he is certain ways blind to the presence of God, as the story of the donkey humorously demonstrates.
Balaam is riding along on his donkey on his way to fulfill his commission from the king of Moab, when he encounters the Angel of the LORD "as his adversary" (22:22) in a narrow place. His donkey cowers and will not go forward, and Balaam, furious with his disobedience, beats the poor beast fiercely. This happens three times before the donkey is given the power of speech and asks, "What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?" (22:28)
The story is a parable. A donkey is wiser than the prophet who does not listen to the words of the LORD. The donkey makes a fool of the prophet.
Now Balaam sees the angel, who says—"The donkey saw me, and turned away from me these three times. If it had not turned away from me, surely just now I would have killed you and let it live" (22:33). You owe your life to the animal you have mistreated.
Humiliated, the prophet confesses that he has sinned and offers to go home. But the LORD has other plans. The donkey has made a fool of the prophet, and now God will use the prophet to make a fool of the king of Moab. Each time he is called upon to curse Israel from a different vantage point, he instead blesses the People of the Promise. "I received a command to bless," the prophet tells the angry king. "The LORD has blessed, and I cannot revoke it" (23:21). The LORD is behind his people; no one can stand against them.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Day 45. Numbers 18-20
Chapter of 17 of Numbers ends with the desperate cry of the Israelites—"We are perishing; we are lost; all of us are lost! Everyone who approaches the tabernacle of the LORD will die. Are we all to perish?" (Numbers 17:12).
Are they really lost? The answer to the question is "no." The priesthood is an expression of God mercy. It is God's "yes." They will be allowed to approach the tabernacle to make atonement for the people—all others will indeed perish. "From now on," says the LORD, "the Israelites shall not longer approach the tent of meeting, or else they will incur guilt and die" (18:22).
The weight of responsibility for conducting the sacrifices and rituals that maintain the relationship between God and his people will fall entirely on the Levites. But in return for their service the clergy will receive everything that is not burned up the sacrifices, together with the first-fruits of the earth and the flock (18:13),
This generous settlement is necessary since the Levites will receive no allotment of the Promised Land. To them the LORD says—"I am your share and your possession among the Israelites" (18:20).
Now in Chapter 19 the ceremony of the red heifer is introduced. We are unsure exactly what a "red heifer" may have been—exactly how red it had to be. But Israel knew. And they were given instructions that the animal was to be slaughtered outside the camp and entirely burned up. Its ashes, mixed with water, were to be the purifying agent for those made unclean by contact with the dead. Death was the ultimate source of uncleanness in Israel, and yet it was—and is—almost impossible to avoid some contact with it. The "red heifer" ritual was intended to facilitate the return to the ritual community of those made unclean by contact with mortality.
At Kadesh Miriam dies, having reached, without doubt, a very advanced age (20:1). A prophet, a musician, a poet (see Exodus 15:20-21), and occasionally a thorn in the side to her brother Moses (see Numbers 12), Miriam was an important person in the story of early Israel, a fact as witnessed by the numberless girls named after her—Mary is a form of the name Miriam. Her death is a milestone in the passage of the first generation of Israelite leadership.
Again the people grumble, this time about the lack of potable water. In response God commands Moses to "take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and your bother Aaron, and command the rock before their eyes to yield its water" (20:8).
But the aging Moses, in a fit of impatience and temper, "struck the rock twice with his staff" (20:11). Water indeed gushed out abundantly, but Moses had disobeyed the explicit command of the LORD, and for this he and Aaron are denied the right to lead Israel into the Promised Land (20:12). This will be task of others. Moses' leadership is affirmed, but now it is limited in time. The first generation is passing.
Remember the animosity between Jacob, the Son of Promise, and his twin Esau in the Book of Genesis. In chapter 20, verses 18-21 this ancient feud comes home to roost. Esau was the father of Edomites (see Genesis 36:1), and now the king of Edom refuses to allow the Israel to pass through his land, in spite of Moses' pleas based a common paternity (20:14). In the scriptures, the past is never completely past.
And as chapter 20 closes, another member of the first generation leadership leaves the stage. Aaron taken up Mount Hor and there he is ceremonially stripped of his vestments and a new high priest is consecrated in his place, his son Eleazar (20:28). Aaron dies on the mountain, and Moses and Eleazar come down without him. Continuity is more important than sentimentality. The story continues—that is the most important thing.
Are they really lost? The answer to the question is "no." The priesthood is an expression of God mercy. It is God's "yes." They will be allowed to approach the tabernacle to make atonement for the people—all others will indeed perish. "From now on," says the LORD, "the Israelites shall not longer approach the tent of meeting, or else they will incur guilt and die" (18:22).
The weight of responsibility for conducting the sacrifices and rituals that maintain the relationship between God and his people will fall entirely on the Levites. But in return for their service the clergy will receive everything that is not burned up the sacrifices, together with the first-fruits of the earth and the flock (18:13),
This generous settlement is necessary since the Levites will receive no allotment of the Promised Land. To them the LORD says—"I am your share and your possession among the Israelites" (18:20).
Now in Chapter 19 the ceremony of the red heifer is introduced. We are unsure exactly what a "red heifer" may have been—exactly how red it had to be. But Israel knew. And they were given instructions that the animal was to be slaughtered outside the camp and entirely burned up. Its ashes, mixed with water, were to be the purifying agent for those made unclean by contact with the dead. Death was the ultimate source of uncleanness in Israel, and yet it was—and is—almost impossible to avoid some contact with it. The "red heifer" ritual was intended to facilitate the return to the ritual community of those made unclean by contact with mortality.
At Kadesh Miriam dies, having reached, without doubt, a very advanced age (20:1). A prophet, a musician, a poet (see Exodus 15:20-21), and occasionally a thorn in the side to her brother Moses (see Numbers 12), Miriam was an important person in the story of early Israel, a fact as witnessed by the numberless girls named after her—Mary is a form of the name Miriam. Her death is a milestone in the passage of the first generation of Israelite leadership.
Again the people grumble, this time about the lack of potable water. In response God commands Moses to "take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and your bother Aaron, and command the rock before their eyes to yield its water" (20:8).
But the aging Moses, in a fit of impatience and temper, "struck the rock twice with his staff" (20:11). Water indeed gushed out abundantly, but Moses had disobeyed the explicit command of the LORD, and for this he and Aaron are denied the right to lead Israel into the Promised Land (20:12). This will be task of others. Moses' leadership is affirmed, but now it is limited in time. The first generation is passing.
Remember the animosity between Jacob, the Son of Promise, and his twin Esau in the Book of Genesis. In chapter 20, verses 18-21 this ancient feud comes home to roost. Esau was the father of Edomites (see Genesis 36:1), and now the king of Edom refuses to allow the Israel to pass through his land, in spite of Moses' pleas based a common paternity (20:14). In the scriptures, the past is never completely past.
And as chapter 20 closes, another member of the first generation leadership leaves the stage. Aaron taken up Mount Hor and there he is ceremonially stripped of his vestments and a new high priest is consecrated in his place, his son Eleazar (20:28). Aaron dies on the mountain, and Moses and Eleazar come down without him. Continuity is more important than sentimentality. The story continues—that is the most important thing.
Day 44. Numbers 15-17
The LORD the God of Israel is different from the pagan gods worshipped by other nations. For one thing, he is not dependent on his devotees to feed him. He does not eat as mortals do. But he does enjoy the smell of food, and offerings of flesh and grain are burned on his altar "to make a pleasing odor for the Lord" (Numbers 15:3), much in the way that incense is offered, for its smell. The smell represents the prayers and offerings of the people. They go up in smoke—God does not retain any part of them. He desires obedience, not carbohydrates and protein.
And the people, for their part, are commanded to make a corporate offering of a bull for any sin done unintentionally by the whole congregation. This sin will be forgiven; "it was unintentional, and they have brought their offering" (15:25). An individual offering for unintentional sin was more modest, a mere goat (15:27), but it also availed.
Intentional sin—knowing the law and flouting it—was a much more serious matter. "Whoever acts high-handedly," says our text, "whether a native or an alien, affronts the Lord, and shall be cut off from the people" (15:30).
For this kind of high-handed sinning, we are given the example of the man who was caught gathering sticks on the Sabbath day. When his case is brought to the Lord, the verdict is death. He is taken outside the camp and stoned. Obedience to the law must be absolute. The fringes that the Israelites are commanded to wear on their garments (15:37-41) are a reminder to be obedient to all the commandments of the LORD and to make no accommodation with willful independence.
Israel is a community based upon obedience to the will of God, expressed by his friend and lieutenant Moses.
Any rebellion against that authority will be fatal, even when the cause is seen as just. The revolt of Korah, a cousin of Moses and a Levite, like that launched by Moses' sister Miriam in chapter 12, is an attempt to widen the base of power—to democratize the nation. The principle upon which Korah's revolt is based seems reasonable enough. The ringleaders ask—"All the congregation are holy, every one of them, and the LORD is among them." Why does Moses alone speak to and for the LORD when all the people are his particular possession and in covenant relationship to him?
The result is predictable. The earth swallows up the rebels and their families, and they go down "alive into Sheol" (16:33). "Sheol" in the Old Testament is the shadowy cave under the earth where the spirits of the dead go. The God of Life has nothing to do with that place—it is literally God-forsaken—and any attempt by the living to contact spirits in Sheol is forbidden under pain of death. The religion of ancient Israel was not death-denying, but it was radically life-centered. The rebels are not only cast out of the community; they are utterly removed from the presence of the LORD—buried alive both physically and spiritually.
The reading for today ends with the story of the budding staff of Aaron. In the face of the challenge posed by the revolt of Korah, this miracle affirms the LORD's choice of the tribe of Levi and the family of Aaron specifically as the sole servants and protectors of the tabernacle. They alone are to approach him directly. The rod that budded, flowered, and bore fruit was kept in the Ark of the Covenant as an heirloom and a "warning to rebels, so that [they] may make an end of their complaints against me, or else they may die" (17:10).
Order, based upon obedience, will be the foundation of the covenant community.
And the people, for their part, are commanded to make a corporate offering of a bull for any sin done unintentionally by the whole congregation. This sin will be forgiven; "it was unintentional, and they have brought their offering" (15:25). An individual offering for unintentional sin was more modest, a mere goat (15:27), but it also availed.
Intentional sin—knowing the law and flouting it—was a much more serious matter. "Whoever acts high-handedly," says our text, "whether a native or an alien, affronts the Lord, and shall be cut off from the people" (15:30).
For this kind of high-handed sinning, we are given the example of the man who was caught gathering sticks on the Sabbath day. When his case is brought to the Lord, the verdict is death. He is taken outside the camp and stoned. Obedience to the law must be absolute. The fringes that the Israelites are commanded to wear on their garments (15:37-41) are a reminder to be obedient to all the commandments of the LORD and to make no accommodation with willful independence.
Israel is a community based upon obedience to the will of God, expressed by his friend and lieutenant Moses.
Any rebellion against that authority will be fatal, even when the cause is seen as just. The revolt of Korah, a cousin of Moses and a Levite, like that launched by Moses' sister Miriam in chapter 12, is an attempt to widen the base of power—to democratize the nation. The principle upon which Korah's revolt is based seems reasonable enough. The ringleaders ask—"All the congregation are holy, every one of them, and the LORD is among them." Why does Moses alone speak to and for the LORD when all the people are his particular possession and in covenant relationship to him?
The result is predictable. The earth swallows up the rebels and their families, and they go down "alive into Sheol" (16:33). "Sheol" in the Old Testament is the shadowy cave under the earth where the spirits of the dead go. The God of Life has nothing to do with that place—it is literally God-forsaken—and any attempt by the living to contact spirits in Sheol is forbidden under pain of death. The religion of ancient Israel was not death-denying, but it was radically life-centered. The rebels are not only cast out of the community; they are utterly removed from the presence of the LORD—buried alive both physically and spiritually.
The reading for today ends with the story of the budding staff of Aaron. In the face of the challenge posed by the revolt of Korah, this miracle affirms the LORD's choice of the tribe of Levi and the family of Aaron specifically as the sole servants and protectors of the tabernacle. They alone are to approach him directly. The rod that budded, flowered, and bore fruit was kept in the Ark of the Covenant as an heirloom and a "warning to rebels, so that [they] may make an end of their complaints against me, or else they may die" (17:10).
Order, based upon obedience, will be the foundation of the covenant community.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Day 43 -- Numbers 12-14
In certain ways the time described in the Book of Numbers is a Golden Age, a time when God and his people were in communion, when his presence was made visible in the cloud and the fire, and when wonders abounded. But all was not perfect even then. In Chapter 12 a struggle breaks out between Moses and his sister Miriam, occasioned by Moses' marriage to a Cushite woman. (We will later discover that he has sent his first wife, Zipporah and his two children away.)
So it is a family struggle too. Aaron, Moses' younger brother, is to some degree caught in the middle. Does any of this sound familiar?
In any institution--be it a family,a church, a company, or a nation--there are always people who have different agendas. Miriam was also a prophet and beloved by the people. She wants a share in the decision-making power. "Has the LORD spoken only through Moses? Has he not spoken through us too?" she wants to know (Numbers 12:1).
But Moses is still the LORD's chosen one. In awesome majesty, God makes his choice clear and departs.
Then something curious happens. Miriam is struck with leprosy. Does God do this? You remember that once back in Egypt Moses had received this dread disease as a sign (see Exodus 4:6). It was part of a charismatic "bag of tricks" he had received to fight the power of Pharaoh. Now it seems to be the way Moses, who is "humble" and not good with words, asserts his power over the situation and validates his leadership.
Aaron seems to understand this and begs Moses' pardon--"Oh my lord, do not punish us for the sin that we have so foolishly committed" (12:11), he says. And Moses, who certainly acquits himself well in this ugly situation, again asserts his role as an intercessor and asks God to heal Miriam. Which the LORD does, but not without commanding that she be separated from the camp as unclean for seven days. Authority belongs to the LORD, who gives to whomever he chooses. Those who rebel against the leadership of the Chosen One will suffer for it.
Now under Moses' authority, spies are sent in the Promised Land in preparation for the invasion. But they are over-awed by the size of the people the encounter there. Remember the Nephilim from Genesis 6:4, those giants born of the union of women and the "sons of God?" The native people who occupied Canaan were uncommonly tall--giants in the earth--or seemed so to the spies. Some of the spies counseled despair; others--Joshua and Caleb--called for bold, decisive action. They said--"Do not rebel against the LORD, and do not fear the people of the land, for they are no more than bread to us; their protection is removed from them, and the LORD is with us; do not fear them" ( 14:9).
But the people again cower, complain and wish themselves dead--again. (People are always the problem.) The LORD's anger is kindled and he is ready to grant their wish. But Moses, ever the intercessor, begs for forgiveness on their behalf. And the LORD does indeed forgive (14:20), but at a price. (Actions always have consequences.)
The whole generation who complained and rebelled--everyone but the brave spies Joshua and Caleb and the smallest children alive at the time--will die without entering the Promised Land. "In this wilderness they shall come to a full end," the LORD says, "and there they shall die" (14:35).
An invasion is attempted (14:44), but the LORD's presence does not leave the camp. Without the power of God and leadership of Moses, the attempt fails miserably, and the forty years of wandering--one year for every day the spies had been in Canaan--begins. But the story continues. . . .
So it is a family struggle too. Aaron, Moses' younger brother, is to some degree caught in the middle. Does any of this sound familiar?
In any institution--be it a family,a church, a company, or a nation--there are always people who have different agendas. Miriam was also a prophet and beloved by the people. She wants a share in the decision-making power. "Has the LORD spoken only through Moses? Has he not spoken through us too?" she wants to know (Numbers 12:1).
But Moses is still the LORD's chosen one. In awesome majesty, God makes his choice clear and departs.
Then something curious happens. Miriam is struck with leprosy. Does God do this? You remember that once back in Egypt Moses had received this dread disease as a sign (see Exodus 4:6). It was part of a charismatic "bag of tricks" he had received to fight the power of Pharaoh. Now it seems to be the way Moses, who is "humble" and not good with words, asserts his power over the situation and validates his leadership.
Aaron seems to understand this and begs Moses' pardon--"Oh my lord, do not punish us for the sin that we have so foolishly committed" (12:11), he says. And Moses, who certainly acquits himself well in this ugly situation, again asserts his role as an intercessor and asks God to heal Miriam. Which the LORD does, but not without commanding that she be separated from the camp as unclean for seven days. Authority belongs to the LORD, who gives to whomever he chooses. Those who rebel against the leadership of the Chosen One will suffer for it.
Now under Moses' authority, spies are sent in the Promised Land in preparation for the invasion. But they are over-awed by the size of the people the encounter there. Remember the Nephilim from Genesis 6:4, those giants born of the union of women and the "sons of God?" The native people who occupied Canaan were uncommonly tall--giants in the earth--or seemed so to the spies. Some of the spies counseled despair; others--Joshua and Caleb--called for bold, decisive action. They said--"Do not rebel against the LORD, and do not fear the people of the land, for they are no more than bread to us; their protection is removed from them, and the LORD is with us; do not fear them" ( 14:9).
But the people again cower, complain and wish themselves dead--again. (People are always the problem.) The LORD's anger is kindled and he is ready to grant their wish. But Moses, ever the intercessor, begs for forgiveness on their behalf. And the LORD does indeed forgive (14:20), but at a price. (Actions always have consequences.)
The whole generation who complained and rebelled--everyone but the brave spies Joshua and Caleb and the smallest children alive at the time--will die without entering the Promised Land. "In this wilderness they shall come to a full end," the LORD says, "and there they shall die" (14:35).
An invasion is attempted (14:44), but the LORD's presence does not leave the camp. Without the power of God and leadership of Moses, the attempt fails miserably, and the forty years of wandering--one year for every day the spies had been in Canaan--begins. But the story continues. . . .
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Day 42. Numbers 9-11
According to our reading from Numbers, all Israelites without exception were commanded to observe Passover. Failing to do so, they would be “cut off from the people for not presenting the LORD’s offering at its appointed time” (9:13). No excuses were allowed! Not even ritual uncleanness should prevent anyone from celebrating Passover with the community “at the appointed time” (see Numbers 9:9). To neglect this feast of feasts was to be excluded from the covenant people and from fellowship with the LORD.
But it is worth noting that Israel was not, at this point at least, a closed community defined by race or ethnicity. It was a vital and open community of faith. Non-Jews were invited to celebrate the feast together with Israel. So our text says—“Any alien residing among you who wishes to keep the Passover to the LORD shall do so according to the statute of the Passover and according to its regulation; you shall have one statute for both the resident alien and the native” (9:14).
The people of Israel might be the children of Abraham, but as a community they were willing to adopt those who would worship their God, obey the Law, and join with the community in their sacred feasts. There were barriers in Israelite religion, but they were intended to protect the holiness of God and not to keep out strangers. The boundaries of the chosen people were porous and the way to membership was open.
Note Moses’ plea to his father-in-law—“Come with us, and we will treat you well” (10:29). The blessings of the LORD’s presence were available to any who wanted to join the movement—“If you go with us, whatever good the LORD does for us, the same we will do for you” (10:32). Spiritual conformity is not demanded of Israel. There is room for spontaneity in the covenant community. The spirit of God is available to many, and ideally to all. (11:26ff) This attitude cannot help but remind us of the radical openness and excitement of early Christianity.
In spite of the law and disciplines that governed them, in many ways the Israelites of the wandering years were a flexible people. Every part of their existence was moveable. When the cloud of glory and fiery pillar moved, they moved; when it stopped, they stayed put. The writer of Numbers sees this as a sign of an ideal relationship of God based upon obedience. It was a Golden Age. The people were responsive to the will of God, and God was responsive to the needs of the people.
The silver trumpets the Lord had them make—see Chapter 10:1ff—not only summoned Israel to the entrance of the tent of meeting and sounded the alarm if danger was near. The trumpets also served to remind the LORD of the terms of his covenant obligations lest he forget them. As the text says—“You shall sound an alarm with the trumpets, so that you may be remembered before the LORD your God and be saved from your enemies” (10:9).
The God of the Book of Numbers is a very human God, one who gets angry, one who forgets and needs to be reminded. The LORD will even endure a tirade like that which Moses delivers in Chapter 11, verses 10 and following. Infuriated by the people’s harping on the bad old days in Egypt, Moses explodes in fury. “Did I conceive all this people? Did I give birth to them . . . .?” he demands. He compares the Lord to a neglectful mother who has saddled him with her spoiled brood.
And LORD listens and does not “put him death at once,” as Moses almost dares him to, but rather puts some of the spirit that has been upon Moses solely and puts it on seventy elders so that they can share his leadership. The LORD hears out Moses’ outburst with patience and gives him the relief he needs in a stressful and demanding job. God is a human God indeed—motherly in his care for his children, and even willing to indulge their outbursts from time to time.
In the Book of Numbers, the LORD is sometimes fierce and inflexible in his commands, but he is also capable of understanding and very human tenderness.
But it is worth noting that Israel was not, at this point at least, a closed community defined by race or ethnicity. It was a vital and open community of faith. Non-Jews were invited to celebrate the feast together with Israel. So our text says—“Any alien residing among you who wishes to keep the Passover to the LORD shall do so according to the statute of the Passover and according to its regulation; you shall have one statute for both the resident alien and the native” (9:14).
The people of Israel might be the children of Abraham, but as a community they were willing to adopt those who would worship their God, obey the Law, and join with the community in their sacred feasts. There were barriers in Israelite religion, but they were intended to protect the holiness of God and not to keep out strangers. The boundaries of the chosen people were porous and the way to membership was open.
Note Moses’ plea to his father-in-law—“Come with us, and we will treat you well” (10:29). The blessings of the LORD’s presence were available to any who wanted to join the movement—“If you go with us, whatever good the LORD does for us, the same we will do for you” (10:32). Spiritual conformity is not demanded of Israel. There is room for spontaneity in the covenant community. The spirit of God is available to many, and ideally to all. (11:26ff) This attitude cannot help but remind us of the radical openness and excitement of early Christianity.
In spite of the law and disciplines that governed them, in many ways the Israelites of the wandering years were a flexible people. Every part of their existence was moveable. When the cloud of glory and fiery pillar moved, they moved; when it stopped, they stayed put. The writer of Numbers sees this as a sign of an ideal relationship of God based upon obedience. It was a Golden Age. The people were responsive to the will of God, and God was responsive to the needs of the people.
The silver trumpets the Lord had them make—see Chapter 10:1ff—not only summoned Israel to the entrance of the tent of meeting and sounded the alarm if danger was near. The trumpets also served to remind the LORD of the terms of his covenant obligations lest he forget them. As the text says—“You shall sound an alarm with the trumpets, so that you may be remembered before the LORD your God and be saved from your enemies” (10:9).
The God of the Book of Numbers is a very human God, one who gets angry, one who forgets and needs to be reminded. The LORD will even endure a tirade like that which Moses delivers in Chapter 11, verses 10 and following. Infuriated by the people’s harping on the bad old days in Egypt, Moses explodes in fury. “Did I conceive all this people? Did I give birth to them . . . .?” he demands. He compares the Lord to a neglectful mother who has saddled him with her spoiled brood.
And LORD listens and does not “put him death at once,” as Moses almost dares him to, but rather puts some of the spirit that has been upon Moses solely and puts it on seventy elders so that they can share his leadership. The LORD hears out Moses’ outburst with patience and gives him the relief he needs in a stressful and demanding job. God is a human God indeed—motherly in his care for his children, and even willing to indulge their outbursts from time to time.
In the Book of Numbers, the LORD is sometimes fierce and inflexible in his commands, but he is also capable of understanding and very human tenderness.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Day 41. Numbers 7-8
We wonder as we read these passages how exactly the LORD speaks to Moses. In today’s reading from Numbers 7, we are told that when Moses went into the Tent of Meeting, “he would hear the voice speaking to him from above the mercy seat that was on the ark of the covenant from between the two cherubim” (8:9). The ark formed a throne upon which the LORD sat in state and made his decrees. His speaking, however, was probably an interior conversation between him and Moses.
The Tabernacle was the place where creation was restored to the situation of Eden, where God spoke directly to Adam and walked with him. The sacred seven branched candlestick—the “menorah”—which gave light to the place was a symbolic recreation of the Tree of Life. And the Levites represented a new and restored humanity.
Their ordination ritual which involved washing and the shaving of their entire bodies (8:6) was symbolic of their restored innocence. They were presented to the LORD as “an elevation offering” (8:11). Ordained and purified they were worthy to stand between People of Israel and God enthroned in his sanctuary.
Their job was not an easy one, physically and well as spiritually, which is reflected in the early age of their retirement (8:25). Their whole lives were regimented by the rituals of the Tabernacle and dependent upon it. Forbidden to hold land, the ministry was all they knew or were able to do. They were often underemployed in later times. So in later times the Levites were a vulnerable minority in need of protection.
The Tabernacle was the place where creation was restored to the situation of Eden, where God spoke directly to Adam and walked with him. The sacred seven branched candlestick—the “menorah”—which gave light to the place was a symbolic recreation of the Tree of Life. And the Levites represented a new and restored humanity.
Their ordination ritual which involved washing and the shaving of their entire bodies (8:6) was symbolic of their restored innocence. They were presented to the LORD as “an elevation offering” (8:11). Ordained and purified they were worthy to stand between People of Israel and God enthroned in his sanctuary.
Their job was not an easy one, physically and well as spiritually, which is reflected in the early age of their retirement (8:25). Their whole lives were regimented by the rituals of the Tabernacle and dependent upon it. Forbidden to hold land, the ministry was all they knew or were able to do. They were often underemployed in later times. So in later times the Levites were a vulnerable minority in need of protection.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Day 40. Numbers 5-6
There is very little defense for Numbers 5: 11-29 from the modern point of view. But what is being described here is a comparatively mild form of trial by ordeal. Trial by ordeal was common enough in the ancient world, and was still being practiced in early modern times as a way of discovering hidden guilt. (The accounts of the Salem witch trials are full of it.) And it is still being used in those societies where individual rights are not triumphant and the assumption of innocence is not enshrined in law.
It was a way for the community to discover guilt in matters that concerned the welfare of the community itself.
Remember that in the Old Testament world, the well being of the family was considered more important that the rights of any individual person. Here in Numbers trial by ordeal is suggested as a way of determining the guilt of a woman accused by her husband of adultery. In the world of the Old Testament, securing legitimate offspring was a matter of the highest importance. Women bore the primary responsibility for this. Establishing legitimacy insured stability in society and the orderly transfer of property from father to son.
There is no question that that this trial seems cruel and unfair to the unfortunate woman, but it is worth noting that a woman accused of adultery without witnesses could not be put to death. Where both partners were discovered in adultery by witnesses, both were put to death. That was the Law; it was harsh, but it was just.
But without witnesses, the trial by ordeal was the only way for a woman to satisfy her jealous husband of her innocence and be restored to her place in the community. The “hocus pocus” surrounding the trial--the holy water mixed with dust from the floor of the tabernacle, the curse to which the woman was required to say “Amen. Amen.” (5:22)--gave solemnity and the weight of divine authority to the proceedings.
As the text says--“the curse shall enter into her and cause bitter pain, and her womb shall discharge, her uterus drop, and the woman shall become an execration among her people.” In other words, the result was a spontaneous abortion.
But if she survived it unscathed, she was acquitted. Again—“if the woman has not defiled herself and is clean, then she shall be immune and be able to conceive”(5:27-28).
(I guess we can only hope the test always worked as expected and only the guilty were discovered and punished.)
It is always felt necessary for some people to carry their devotion to God beyond the ordinary forms of conventional piety. The vow of the Nazirites, described in Chapter 6, could be made by the person him or herself or for a child by its parents, as in the case of Samuel. Nazirites might “separate themselves to the LORD” (6:2) for a lifetime or for only a given period, as fulfillment of a vow or until a certain task was accomplished.
They were pledged to sober austerity of life. Nazirites “separated themselves” from wine and strong drink absolutely, and from everything that had to so with the fruit of the vine (6:1-4). They also carefully avoided any ritual uncleanness and refrained from cutting their hair as sign of their vow.
In Old Testament heroes like Samson were Nazirites; in the New Testament there is evidence that St. Paul may once have taken a Nazirite vow—see Acts 18:18. It was a religious movement within Judaism that called those who entered it to follow the Law of Moses with personal devotion and single-minded vigor.
It was a way for the community to discover guilt in matters that concerned the welfare of the community itself.
Remember that in the Old Testament world, the well being of the family was considered more important that the rights of any individual person. Here in Numbers trial by ordeal is suggested as a way of determining the guilt of a woman accused by her husband of adultery. In the world of the Old Testament, securing legitimate offspring was a matter of the highest importance. Women bore the primary responsibility for this. Establishing legitimacy insured stability in society and the orderly transfer of property from father to son.
There is no question that that this trial seems cruel and unfair to the unfortunate woman, but it is worth noting that a woman accused of adultery without witnesses could not be put to death. Where both partners were discovered in adultery by witnesses, both were put to death. That was the Law; it was harsh, but it was just.
But without witnesses, the trial by ordeal was the only way for a woman to satisfy her jealous husband of her innocence and be restored to her place in the community. The “hocus pocus” surrounding the trial--the holy water mixed with dust from the floor of the tabernacle, the curse to which the woman was required to say “Amen. Amen.” (5:22)--gave solemnity and the weight of divine authority to the proceedings.
As the text says--“the curse shall enter into her and cause bitter pain, and her womb shall discharge, her uterus drop, and the woman shall become an execration among her people.” In other words, the result was a spontaneous abortion.
But if she survived it unscathed, she was acquitted. Again—“if the woman has not defiled herself and is clean, then she shall be immune and be able to conceive”(5:27-28).
(I guess we can only hope the test always worked as expected and only the guilty were discovered and punished.)
It is always felt necessary for some people to carry their devotion to God beyond the ordinary forms of conventional piety. The vow of the Nazirites, described in Chapter 6, could be made by the person him or herself or for a child by its parents, as in the case of Samuel. Nazirites might “separate themselves to the LORD” (6:2) for a lifetime or for only a given period, as fulfillment of a vow or until a certain task was accomplished.
They were pledged to sober austerity of life. Nazirites “separated themselves” from wine and strong drink absolutely, and from everything that had to so with the fruit of the vine (6:1-4). They also carefully avoided any ritual uncleanness and refrained from cutting their hair as sign of their vow.
In Old Testament heroes like Samson were Nazirites; in the New Testament there is evidence that St. Paul may once have taken a Nazirite vow—see Acts 18:18. It was a religious movement within Judaism that called those who entered it to follow the Law of Moses with personal devotion and single-minded vigor.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Day 39 Numbers 3-4
Our text gives us more information about the place and function of the Levites, the priestly class of Israel, who were “unreservedly given to the LORD” (3:9). In Exodus we were told that when the LORD slew the first-born of the land of Egypt in the last, climatic plague, he claimed as his own the first-born of Israel, both human and animal. Henceforth, the first-born of Israel must be redeemed with a sacrifice.
Here in Numbers 3, verse 12 we are informed that the Levites were dedicated to the Lord as substitutes for the first-born of the people. They belonged to God as an absolute possession; their obedience was to be complete and unreserved. They were required to do everything exactly as they were told in order to protect the sacred tabernacle from profanation and themselves from death (4:19).
During the years of wandering, the Tent of Meeting had to be completely moveable. When the camp set out, it had to be taken down and packed without breaking any sacred taboos. So the various clans of the Levites were each assigned certain tasks to do in the process of break down and certain objects to carry (4:32). These “altar guild” regulations are very specific and exact so that everyone would know exactly what to do.
And as we said before, the function of the Law was to all the covenant people the opportunity to live a righteous life by telling each member of the community exactly what was expected of that person. If you did what you knew you should do, you fulfilled The LORD’s expectations. And in the Old Testament system to experience that sense of God’s satisfaction was to live with integrity and a freedom that only the keeping the Law could give,
Here in Numbers 3, verse 12 we are informed that the Levites were dedicated to the Lord as substitutes for the first-born of the people. They belonged to God as an absolute possession; their obedience was to be complete and unreserved. They were required to do everything exactly as they were told in order to protect the sacred tabernacle from profanation and themselves from death (4:19).
During the years of wandering, the Tent of Meeting had to be completely moveable. When the camp set out, it had to be taken down and packed without breaking any sacred taboos. So the various clans of the Levites were each assigned certain tasks to do in the process of break down and certain objects to carry (4:32). These “altar guild” regulations are very specific and exact so that everyone would know exactly what to do.
And as we said before, the function of the Law was to all the covenant people the opportunity to live a righteous life by telling each member of the community exactly what was expected of that person. If you did what you knew you should do, you fulfilled The LORD’s expectations. And in the Old Testament system to experience that sense of God’s satisfaction was to live with integrity and a freedom that only the keeping the Law could give,
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Day 38. Numbers 1-2
The Book of Numbers recounts the memory of a series of adventures the People of Israel had on their journey through the wilderness of Sinai. It was written centuries after the events it recounts, and looks back upon the wilderness time as a Golden Age in which the people truly walked with God.
The book is loosely structured around a journey, and its theme is the faithfulness of the God who journeys with his People. He was their Guide. The Israelites knew generally where they were headed—the Promised Land, the land that had been promised by God to Abraham--but none of them had ever been there. They simply went on traveling, following their Guide, until they got there, and the journey became the destination.
And it is like that with us too. We are on a journey as well. We know we are headed somewhere, but is often difficult to tell from day to day whether we are journeying or just wandering. But that hardly matters. As long is we live in this world, our journey is our destination. We are not lost as long as long as our Guide is with us.
The Book of Numbers begins with a census. In the ancient world a census was usually ordered by a ruler for reasons of taxation, like the census conducted under the reign of the Emperor Tiberius, which forms a context for the story of the birth of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel.
Here the census is ordered by the LORD for military purposes. Israel in the wilderness is an army on the move with a host of followers and non-combatants. In our reading the twelve tribes are mustered into regiments, their camps arranged symmetrically around the Tent of Meeting (2:17).
It is hard to exaggerate how warlike these first books of the Bible are. Israel during the wilderness journey was a theocracy, a society governed by God through his representatives--Moses, Aaron and later Joshua—who exercise charismatic leadership, conducting holy war on behalf of God and the people.
God, however, is their real commander. His tent occupies the central position in the camp, and there he lived among his People, served by the Levites, who were exempted from military service in order to keep themselves and the LORD’s tabernacle free from any pollution or uncleanness (1:48ff). During these wilderness years, the Tabernacle for Israel was a unifying symbol and a source of spiritual power.
The book is loosely structured around a journey, and its theme is the faithfulness of the God who journeys with his People. He was their Guide. The Israelites knew generally where they were headed—the Promised Land, the land that had been promised by God to Abraham--but none of them had ever been there. They simply went on traveling, following their Guide, until they got there, and the journey became the destination.
And it is like that with us too. We are on a journey as well. We know we are headed somewhere, but is often difficult to tell from day to day whether we are journeying or just wandering. But that hardly matters. As long is we live in this world, our journey is our destination. We are not lost as long as long as our Guide is with us.
The Book of Numbers begins with a census. In the ancient world a census was usually ordered by a ruler for reasons of taxation, like the census conducted under the reign of the Emperor Tiberius, which forms a context for the story of the birth of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel.
Here the census is ordered by the LORD for military purposes. Israel in the wilderness is an army on the move with a host of followers and non-combatants. In our reading the twelve tribes are mustered into regiments, their camps arranged symmetrically around the Tent of Meeting (2:17).
It is hard to exaggerate how warlike these first books of the Bible are. Israel during the wilderness journey was a theocracy, a society governed by God through his representatives--Moses, Aaron and later Joshua—who exercise charismatic leadership, conducting holy war on behalf of God and the people.
God, however, is their real commander. His tent occupies the central position in the camp, and there he lived among his People, served by the Levites, who were exempted from military service in order to keep themselves and the LORD’s tabernacle free from any pollution or uncleanness (1:48ff). During these wilderness years, the Tabernacle for Israel was a unifying symbol and a source of spiritual power.
Day 38. Numbers 1-2
The Book of Numbers recounts the memory of a series of adventures the People of Israel had on their journey through the wilderness of Sinai. It was written centuries after the events it recounts, and looks back upon the wilderness time as a Golden Age in which the people truly walked with God.
The book is loosely structured around a journey, and its theme is the faithfulness of the God who journeys with his People. He was their Guide. The Israelites knew generally where they were headed—the Promised Land, the land that had been promised by God to Abraham--but none of them had ever been there. They simply went on traveling, following their Guide, until they got there, and the journey became the destination.
And it is like that with us too. We are on a journey as well. We know we are headed somewhere, but is often difficult to tell from day to day whether we are journeying or just wandering. But that hardly matters. As long is we live in this world, our journey is our destination. We are not lost as long as long as our Guide is with us.
The Book of Numbers begins with a census. In the ancient world a census was usually ordered by a ruler for reasons of taxation, like the census conducted under the reign of the Emperor Tiberius, which forms a context for the story of the birth of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel.
Here the census is ordered by the LORD for military purposes. Israel in the wilderness is an army on the move with a host of followers and non-combatants. In our reading the twelve tribes are mustered into regiments, their camps arranged symmetrically around the Tent of Meeting (2:17).
It is hard to exaggerate how warlike these first books of the Bible are. Israel during the wilderness journey was a theocracy, a society governed by God through his representatives--Moses, Aaron and later Joshua—who exercise charismatic leadership, conducting holy war on behalf of God and the people.
God, however, is their real commander. His tent occupies the central position in the camp, and there he lived among his People, served by the Levites, who were exempted from military service in order to keep themselves and the LORD’s tabernacle free from any pollution or uncleanness (1:48ff). During these wilderness years, the Tabernacle for Israel was a unifying symbol and a source of spiritual power.
The book is loosely structured around a journey, and its theme is the faithfulness of the God who journeys with his People. He was their Guide. The Israelites knew generally where they were headed—the Promised Land, the land that had been promised by God to Abraham--but none of them had ever been there. They simply went on traveling, following their Guide, until they got there, and the journey became the destination.
And it is like that with us too. We are on a journey as well. We know we are headed somewhere, but is often difficult to tell from day to day whether we are journeying or just wandering. But that hardly matters. As long is we live in this world, our journey is our destination. We are not lost as long as long as our Guide is with us.
The Book of Numbers begins with a census. In the ancient world a census was usually ordered by a ruler for reasons of taxation, like the census conducted under the reign of the Emperor Tiberius, which forms a context for the story of the birth of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel.
Here the census is ordered by the LORD for military purposes. Israel in the wilderness is an army on the move with a host of followers and non-combatants. In our reading the twelve tribes are mustered into regiments, their camps arranged symmetrically around the Tent of Meeting (2:17).
It is hard to exaggerate how warlike these first books of the Bible are. Israel during the wilderness journey was a theocracy, a society governed by God through his representatives--Moses, Aaron and later Joshua—who exercise charismatic leadership, conducting holy war on behalf of God and the people.
God, however, is their real commander. His tent occupies the central position in the camp, and there he lived among his People, served by the Levites, who were exempted from military service in order to keep themselves and the LORD’s tabernacle free from any pollution or uncleanness (1:48ff). During these wilderness years, the Tabernacle for Israel was a unifying symbol and a source of spiritual power.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Day 37 Leviticus 26-27
In the Book of Leviticus, obedience always results in communion with the LORD, who promises that if the people are faithful he will walk with them and be their God (26:12). But disobedience always results in alienation and fear. Fear is the by-product of sin. When we find fear haunting the shadowy edges of our lives, it means that in some way we have drifted away from God and are in need of repentance and reconciliation.
In Chapter 26, verses 14ff we hear the Lord threaten to bring a series of curses upon his people if they do not observe his commandments. The first curse is fear. “I will bring terror on you,” he says (verse 16). The fears we experience as a result of our sin are often baseless—“You shall flee though no one pursues you” (27), but fear does not need to have a basis in reality in order for it to be life- destroying,
But the God who curses also offers blessings-- “If . . . their uncircumcised heart is humbled and they make amends for their iniquities, then I will remember my covenant with Jacob” (26:41-42). People--even the best of them—sometimes prove faithless, but God is always faithful to his covenant—that is the message here and everywhere in the Old Testament. .
Even though some—sometimes many—will be destroyed by their own sin, God is always ready and willing to save a remnant of his people to carry forward the memory of the promise made to Abraham. Even when they might end up as exiles in a strange land, the LORD promises that he “will not spurn” the remnant of his people, “or abhor them so as to destroy them utterly and break [his] covenant with them” (26:44). God is faithful, even when we are faithless—that is the good news of the Book of Leviticus.
The tabernacle was never intended to become a holding company for property, either real or personal. If persons or things were promised to God—“dedicated to the LORD”-- perhaps in a moment of crisis, Chapter 27 gives direction about how they could be redeemed for money. The currency to be used in these transactions was to be the sacred shekel (27:25), a special denomination which continued to be used for temple offerings even in the time of Jesus. This insured that nothing unclean should enter to the Tent of Meeting. And the money raised by redeeming things that had been promised to God could then be used for the maintenance of the holy place and the priests who served in it.
But things “devoted to destruction”—the booty of war, for instance--were not to be redeemed. They were to be destroyed utterly as promised and expected. The command in 27:28-29 is very clear. The holiness of God allowed for no exceptions to be made to his commands. His unconditional promise called for unconditional obedience.
In Chapter 26, verses 14ff we hear the Lord threaten to bring a series of curses upon his people if they do not observe his commandments. The first curse is fear. “I will bring terror on you,” he says (verse 16). The fears we experience as a result of our sin are often baseless—“You shall flee though no one pursues you” (27), but fear does not need to have a basis in reality in order for it to be life- destroying,
But the God who curses also offers blessings-- “If . . . their uncircumcised heart is humbled and they make amends for their iniquities, then I will remember my covenant with Jacob” (26:41-42). People--even the best of them—sometimes prove faithless, but God is always faithful to his covenant—that is the message here and everywhere in the Old Testament. .
Even though some—sometimes many—will be destroyed by their own sin, God is always ready and willing to save a remnant of his people to carry forward the memory of the promise made to Abraham. Even when they might end up as exiles in a strange land, the LORD promises that he “will not spurn” the remnant of his people, “or abhor them so as to destroy them utterly and break [his] covenant with them” (26:44). God is faithful, even when we are faithless—that is the good news of the Book of Leviticus.
The tabernacle was never intended to become a holding company for property, either real or personal. If persons or things were promised to God—“dedicated to the LORD”-- perhaps in a moment of crisis, Chapter 27 gives direction about how they could be redeemed for money. The currency to be used in these transactions was to be the sacred shekel (27:25), a special denomination which continued to be used for temple offerings even in the time of Jesus. This insured that nothing unclean should enter to the Tent of Meeting. And the money raised by redeeming things that had been promised to God could then be used for the maintenance of the holy place and the priests who served in it.
But things “devoted to destruction”—the booty of war, for instance--were not to be redeemed. They were to be destroyed utterly as promised and expected. The command in 27:28-29 is very clear. The holiness of God allowed for no exceptions to be made to his commands. His unconditional promise called for unconditional obedience.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Day 36 -- Leviticus 24-25
We should say a word about the practice of stoning which mentioned in our reading for today—Leviticus 24:13ff. It was the ideal form of capital punishment in Israel because it was communal. It was done for the sake of the community by the community. Everyone took part in it, and so the blame for it fell on no single person any more than on any other.
The Law is brutally clear in this matter—“One who blasphemes the name of the LORD shall be put to death; the whole congregation shall stone the blasphemer” (24:15). So divine justice was satisfied, no blame could be attached to any single individual, and the body is buried in the act of stoning, so that no one was polluted by touching it. The punishment may seem extreme to us, but it makes sense within the world of Leviticus.
Yet the Law of Moses, which dealt so harshly to those who trespassed against the holiness of God, was intended to be just to all. Leviticus 24, verse 22 says--“You shall have one law for the alien and for the citizen; for I am the LORD your God.” Justice is justice. No favoritism is to be shown to those who are members of the Chosen People in matters of law.
Yet the People of the Promise are the LORD’s special possession. “For to me the people of Israel are servants; they are my servants whom I brought out from the land of Egypt,” God says in Leviticus 25, verse 55. Therefore, Israelites are not to hold others of their own nation as slaves (25:46). They are forbidden to take interest from each other on a loan (25:2). Cheating another member of the covenant people was the same as cheating the LORD and absolutely forbidden.
And the Land of the Promise to which the people were going, the land which God had given to Abraham and his descendents, that was also the LORD’s special possession. The Israelites were to regard themselves as shareholders in it—renters. It belonged to the LORD absolutely.
That understanding lies behind the ways in which time is sanctified in the reading for today. Every seventh year was to be a sabbatical year for the land, a year of release from bondage. The land was to lie fallow that whole year so it could rest. This reveals the very advanced notion that not only do people wear out, the environment does too.
And every fiftieth year was sanctified as a Year of Jubilee. This noble idea was so contrary to sinful human nature that it was never really fully realized in Israel. Nevertheless it is here to testify to the majestic wisdom of the Law.
In the Year of Jubilee all ancestral property was to return to the descendents of its original owners, and the people were to go back to the land. Leviticus 25, verse 13 commands—“In this year of jubilee you shall return, every one of you, to your property” (25:13). Land that had been sold was to be returned. Debts were to be forgiven. Slaves were to be ransomed. Everything was to return to the way of was when God first gave the land to Israel.
The laws setting aside the sabbatical year and the year of jubilee reveal not only a radical social agenda but also a very advanced ecological vision, all governed by the understanding that the land—and by extension the whole earth--belongs to the Lord, and that no one but God has an absolute claim to it.
The Law is brutally clear in this matter—“One who blasphemes the name of the LORD shall be put to death; the whole congregation shall stone the blasphemer” (24:15). So divine justice was satisfied, no blame could be attached to any single individual, and the body is buried in the act of stoning, so that no one was polluted by touching it. The punishment may seem extreme to us, but it makes sense within the world of Leviticus.
Yet the Law of Moses, which dealt so harshly to those who trespassed against the holiness of God, was intended to be just to all. Leviticus 24, verse 22 says--“You shall have one law for the alien and for the citizen; for I am the LORD your God.” Justice is justice. No favoritism is to be shown to those who are members of the Chosen People in matters of law.
Yet the People of the Promise are the LORD’s special possession. “For to me the people of Israel are servants; they are my servants whom I brought out from the land of Egypt,” God says in Leviticus 25, verse 55. Therefore, Israelites are not to hold others of their own nation as slaves (25:46). They are forbidden to take interest from each other on a loan (25:2). Cheating another member of the covenant people was the same as cheating the LORD and absolutely forbidden.
And the Land of the Promise to which the people were going, the land which God had given to Abraham and his descendents, that was also the LORD’s special possession. The Israelites were to regard themselves as shareholders in it—renters. It belonged to the LORD absolutely.
That understanding lies behind the ways in which time is sanctified in the reading for today. Every seventh year was to be a sabbatical year for the land, a year of release from bondage. The land was to lie fallow that whole year so it could rest. This reveals the very advanced notion that not only do people wear out, the environment does too.
And every fiftieth year was sanctified as a Year of Jubilee. This noble idea was so contrary to sinful human nature that it was never really fully realized in Israel. Nevertheless it is here to testify to the majestic wisdom of the Law.
In the Year of Jubilee all ancestral property was to return to the descendents of its original owners, and the people were to go back to the land. Leviticus 25, verse 13 commands—“In this year of jubilee you shall return, every one of you, to your property” (25:13). Land that had been sold was to be returned. Debts were to be forgiven. Slaves were to be ransomed. Everything was to return to the way of was when God first gave the land to Israel.
The laws setting aside the sabbatical year and the year of jubilee reveal not only a radical social agenda but also a very advanced ecological vision, all governed by the understanding that the land—and by extension the whole earth--belongs to the Lord, and that no one but God has an absolute claim to it.
Day 35 -- Leviticus 21-23
In our reading for today we learn more about the special position accorded to priests in the Law of Moses. The priest “is exalted above his fellows” (Exodus 21:10). There is an obvious double standard at work here. But being chosen by God to be different and “exalted” is not an easy position to find yourself in--the life of the whole people of Israel proves that.
According to the Law, every sacrificial offering presented to the LORD must be perfect and without blemish (22:21), and the priests who offered those sacrifices must also be without defect or blemish (21:16-24). You remember that we said earlier—in the Law the standard for ritual cleanness is “normality.” A priest who offered the unblemished sacrifice was not himself to be abnormal or physically handicapped in any way. (This was still the standard for Christian priests and pastors within my memory. Any physical abnormality made one ineligible for ordination.)
When the land of Canaan was divided among the tribes of Israel, priests were not allotted land. So they were dependent entirely for their living upon the portion of the offerings and sacrifices allocated to them. So in chapter 22, verses 1-16 we have a discussion of how sacred offerings were to be divided so that the priests would receive a fair share of them, without abusing their privileges. For better or worse, the lives of the priests were entirely dependent upon the life of the tabernacle. It was their whole world.
They were separated from ordinary concerns by rules governing marriage, divorce, and the rituals of death and mourning (21:13-15).
It is a point made over and over again in the Law--The LORD, the God of Israel was the God of the living and not the dead. Other religions might be transfixed by death—the Egyptians are a good example—but in Israel every contact with death was impure and uncleanness-making. Corpses were particularly defiling, because death is seen as the opposite of life, and the LORD is the God of life.
So priests serving in the tabernacle were absolved of the duty of burying even the closest family members. A priest, says chapter 21, verse 11 “shall not go where there is a dead body; he shall not defile himself even for his father or mother” (12:11). A priest shall not observe any of the conventional signs of mourning--he was allowed to mourn only the closest family members, but not publicly. As the representative of the God of the Living he was to have as little as possible to do with death, even at the cost of personal pain.
This will seem harsh to us, but in the world of the Leviticus it makes perfect sense. Yet the God who can command such lack of feeling in his servants, also shows concern for the welfare of the poor and the alien (23:22) and compassion for animals (22:28). All this only goes to show that the LORD is different from all other gods, and because he is holy—read different--he demands that his Chosen People be radically different as well.
According to the Law, every sacrificial offering presented to the LORD must be perfect and without blemish (22:21), and the priests who offered those sacrifices must also be without defect or blemish (21:16-24). You remember that we said earlier—in the Law the standard for ritual cleanness is “normality.” A priest who offered the unblemished sacrifice was not himself to be abnormal or physically handicapped in any way. (This was still the standard for Christian priests and pastors within my memory. Any physical abnormality made one ineligible for ordination.)
When the land of Canaan was divided among the tribes of Israel, priests were not allotted land. So they were dependent entirely for their living upon the portion of the offerings and sacrifices allocated to them. So in chapter 22, verses 1-16 we have a discussion of how sacred offerings were to be divided so that the priests would receive a fair share of them, without abusing their privileges. For better or worse, the lives of the priests were entirely dependent upon the life of the tabernacle. It was their whole world.
They were separated from ordinary concerns by rules governing marriage, divorce, and the rituals of death and mourning (21:13-15).
It is a point made over and over again in the Law--The LORD, the God of Israel was the God of the living and not the dead. Other religions might be transfixed by death—the Egyptians are a good example—but in Israel every contact with death was impure and uncleanness-making. Corpses were particularly defiling, because death is seen as the opposite of life, and the LORD is the God of life.
So priests serving in the tabernacle were absolved of the duty of burying even the closest family members. A priest, says chapter 21, verse 11 “shall not go where there is a dead body; he shall not defile himself even for his father or mother” (12:11). A priest shall not observe any of the conventional signs of mourning--he was allowed to mourn only the closest family members, but not publicly. As the representative of the God of the Living he was to have as little as possible to do with death, even at the cost of personal pain.
This will seem harsh to us, but in the world of the Leviticus it makes perfect sense. Yet the God who can command such lack of feeling in his servants, also shows concern for the welfare of the poor and the alien (23:22) and compassion for animals (22:28). All this only goes to show that the LORD is different from all other gods, and because he is holy—read different--he demands that his Chosen People be radically different as well.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Day 34 -- Leviticus 18-20
It is always important to keep in mind that toleration, which our society values highly, is not a virtue in the world of Leviticus. The Law of Moses does not leave any wiggle room for individual option or choice. The God of the Covenant does not live and let live; he commands and expects absolute purity.
The uncompromising tone of these laws is central to their meaning. God does not make compromises; he calls his people to a radically countercultural life-style. “I am the LORD your God,” he says, “I have separated you from the peoples” (Leviticus 20:24) “to be mine” (26). We should view all these laws as having that primary purpose—to differentiate the People of the Promise from their pagan neighbors.
The God who is himself absolutely “other”—different from other gods and separate from his own creation—demands of his people a life that is altogether different from all other nations and pure.
There are many different kinds of laws represented in our reading for today. Some protect sexual purity and prohibit sexual relations with close family members. Some command compassion for the destitute (19:9-10). Others prohibit consulting mediums and sorcerers (19:31 and 20:6ff. )(Seeking to contact the spirits of the dead—common among other nations--was a capital offense in Israel.)
Other laws prohibit trimming the beard—part of the ritual of mourning for the dead among Israel’s neighbors (19:27-28). Other laws command simple politeness (19:32) and prohibit cruelty to the handicapped—tripping the blind or teasing the deaf (19:14). Compassion for the weak and infirm sets apart the life of the covenant community.
Some of these laws are timeless. When Matthew’s Gospel reproves hatred and calls us to love our neighbors, it echoes Exodus 19:17-18—“You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin . . . . , but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
And some of these laws are very particular to the situation of ancient Israel. Child sacrifice--passing infants “through the fire”-- was widely practiced in the ancient Near East. Young children were routinely burned to satisfy the god Molech—which may be another name for the Canaanite god Baal—especially in times of national emergency or great personal need. In our reading this practice is twice condemned—“You shall not give any of your offspring to Molech, and so profane the name of your God: I am the LORD” (18:21). Again, in 20:2 the LORD says—“Any of the people of Israel, or of the aliens who reside in Israel, who give any of their offspring to Molech shall be put to death; the people of the land shall stone them to death” (20:2).
Besides the high ethical standards reflected by these laws, they all, in one way or another, command moral purity and condemn every kind of mixing--even down to regulations against blending together different fibers in the making of a garment (19:19). Purity is the highest good. The holiness of the people must mirror the holiness of God (19:2). Those who seek to covenant with a holy God must live a radically countercultural life. The values of the People of the Promise must be different from the world’s--it is as true now as it was then.
The uncompromising tone of these laws is central to their meaning. God does not make compromises; he calls his people to a radically countercultural life-style. “I am the LORD your God,” he says, “I have separated you from the peoples” (Leviticus 20:24) “to be mine” (26). We should view all these laws as having that primary purpose—to differentiate the People of the Promise from their pagan neighbors.
The God who is himself absolutely “other”—different from other gods and separate from his own creation—demands of his people a life that is altogether different from all other nations and pure.
There are many different kinds of laws represented in our reading for today. Some protect sexual purity and prohibit sexual relations with close family members. Some command compassion for the destitute (19:9-10). Others prohibit consulting mediums and sorcerers (19:31 and 20:6ff. )(Seeking to contact the spirits of the dead—common among other nations--was a capital offense in Israel.)
Other laws prohibit trimming the beard—part of the ritual of mourning for the dead among Israel’s neighbors (19:27-28). Other laws command simple politeness (19:32) and prohibit cruelty to the handicapped—tripping the blind or teasing the deaf (19:14). Compassion for the weak and infirm sets apart the life of the covenant community.
Some of these laws are timeless. When Matthew’s Gospel reproves hatred and calls us to love our neighbors, it echoes Exodus 19:17-18—“You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin . . . . , but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
And some of these laws are very particular to the situation of ancient Israel. Child sacrifice--passing infants “through the fire”-- was widely practiced in the ancient Near East. Young children were routinely burned to satisfy the god Molech—which may be another name for the Canaanite god Baal—especially in times of national emergency or great personal need. In our reading this practice is twice condemned—“You shall not give any of your offspring to Molech, and so profane the name of your God: I am the LORD” (18:21). Again, in 20:2 the LORD says—“Any of the people of Israel, or of the aliens who reside in Israel, who give any of their offspring to Molech shall be put to death; the people of the land shall stone them to death” (20:2).
Besides the high ethical standards reflected by these laws, they all, in one way or another, command moral purity and condemn every kind of mixing--even down to regulations against blending together different fibers in the making of a garment (19:19). Purity is the highest good. The holiness of the people must mirror the holiness of God (19:2). Those who seek to covenant with a holy God must live a radically countercultural life. The values of the People of the Promise must be different from the world’s--it is as true now as it was then.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Day 33 -- Leviticus 15-17
We don’t need to linger long over the laws regarding bodily discharges in chapter 15 except to note that blood and semen are treated together here because they are both regarded as life-generating fluids. The regulations about their handling are so strict not because they are considered somehow “dirty,” but rather because they considered so powerful and mysterious—so dangerous--that they could not be disposed of without the greatest care.
The concern of this chapter is that the people of Israel should be kept “separate from their uncleanness”—those powerful bodily fluids--so that when they come to worship “they may not die in their uncleanness by defiling my tabernacle that is in their midst” (Exodus 15:31). The awful holiness of the LORD must be preserved at all cost from contact with those “toxic” fluids, not for God’s sake but for the sake of his people, who might otherwise be consumed by it.
The attitude toward blood is discussed further in chapter 17 in the regulations forbidding eating blood. “The life of the flesh is in the blood,” the LORD says in verse 11. It is therefore set apart as holy, and it can be used for no other purpose but “for making atonement for your lives on the altar.” Otherwise blood is to be poured out and covered with earth (17:13). Blood is a gift from God—his holiest gift—and its sole and only use is to give life—all other uses are strictly forbidden.
To me, at least, the regulations surrounding the yearly Day of Atonement found in Chapter 16 are very interesting in a Christian context. On that day two goats were set aside for a sin offering for the people. The holy lots were cast to decide which goat would be sacrificed to the LORD directly and which would be “for Azazel” (16:8). Azazel was a desert demon—an evil spirit that dwelt in the wilderness. We might think of him as the devil or Satan. The high priest would lay his hands on the head of the live goat and “confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions” (16:21) Then the goat—the “scapegoat”—thus ritually loaded, would be “sent away into the wilderness to Azazel” (16:10) to die. By the death of the scapegoat all the sins of Israel were completely atoned and the people were made “clean before the LORD” (16:30).
Early Christians saw the scapegoat as a powerful symbol of Jesus Christ, who was also driven out of Jerusalem to die, bearing the sins not just of Israel, but of all of humankind, so that a final and complete atonement might be made for the transgressions and “uncleanness” of all who have faith in him. In ancient Israel the scapegoat was followed into the desert, and news of its death there was greeted with general rejoicing. So we rejoice in the good news that Jesus Christ, by his Cross has made us at one with God once and for all and freed us from the fear of the death we so richly deserved.
The concern of this chapter is that the people of Israel should be kept “separate from their uncleanness”—those powerful bodily fluids--so that when they come to worship “they may not die in their uncleanness by defiling my tabernacle that is in their midst” (Exodus 15:31). The awful holiness of the LORD must be preserved at all cost from contact with those “toxic” fluids, not for God’s sake but for the sake of his people, who might otherwise be consumed by it.
The attitude toward blood is discussed further in chapter 17 in the regulations forbidding eating blood. “The life of the flesh is in the blood,” the LORD says in verse 11. It is therefore set apart as holy, and it can be used for no other purpose but “for making atonement for your lives on the altar.” Otherwise blood is to be poured out and covered with earth (17:13). Blood is a gift from God—his holiest gift—and its sole and only use is to give life—all other uses are strictly forbidden.
To me, at least, the regulations surrounding the yearly Day of Atonement found in Chapter 16 are very interesting in a Christian context. On that day two goats were set aside for a sin offering for the people. The holy lots were cast to decide which goat would be sacrificed to the LORD directly and which would be “for Azazel” (16:8). Azazel was a desert demon—an evil spirit that dwelt in the wilderness. We might think of him as the devil or Satan. The high priest would lay his hands on the head of the live goat and “confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions” (16:21) Then the goat—the “scapegoat”—thus ritually loaded, would be “sent away into the wilderness to Azazel” (16:10) to die. By the death of the scapegoat all the sins of Israel were completely atoned and the people were made “clean before the LORD” (16:30).
Early Christians saw the scapegoat as a powerful symbol of Jesus Christ, who was also driven out of Jerusalem to die, bearing the sins not just of Israel, but of all of humankind, so that a final and complete atonement might be made for the transgressions and “uncleanness” of all who have faith in him. In ancient Israel the scapegoat was followed into the desert, and news of its death there was greeted with general rejoicing. So we rejoice in the good news that Jesus Christ, by his Cross has made us at one with God once and for all and freed us from the fear of the death we so richly deserved.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Day 32 -- Leviticus 12-14
As we noted before, in the Book of Leviticus uncleanness is a ritual condition, not a moral one. So it is a mistake to equate ritual uncleanness with wickedness—it is much closer to alienation or estrangement from the community. Uncleanness is an awareness that things were not as they should be—strange or abnormal--and laws and rituals of purification are intended to bring persons in that condition back to rightness and normality.
The Old Testament does not know what we Christians call “original sin,” but the concept of ritual uncleanness recognizes that we are often separated from God and from other people by something that we are, rather than by anything that we did. Sin is not always intentional; sometimes it is simply the condition in which we find ourselves.
Chapter 12 of our reading deals with the return of women to normality after childbirth. The uncleanness here, as elsewhere in the Law of Moses, is associated with blood, the source and symbol of life. So the period of a woman’s uncleanness after the birth of a daughter is twice as long as it is for a son, because a female child will herself be a source of blood. It seems strange to us, but the intention of these laws is not to punish women, but rather to bring them back into the life of the community as soon as possible. The issue of blood made them unclean—a sacrifice of blood also restores their ritual cleanness (12:7).
Chapter 13 deals in much the same way with those suffering from infectious—the text uses the word “spreading” (13:52)--skin diseases. Not just sick people, but also sick houses and diseased clothing. Priests, in their role of discerning clean from unclean, function here as public health workers. They are not physicians—though diagnosis is part of their task. They are not in the business of curing a variety of infectious skin diseases and “itches”—all grouped together under the name “leprosy,”—but of protecting the community from ritual uncleanness and further contamination.
The rules of quarantine are harsh by any standard—“The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp” (Exodus 13:45-46).
In a world where a person’s life and meaning was found in kin relationships and in the worship and fellowship of the community, this enforced isolation would have been a living death. But the law also provided for the purification of cured lepers and their reintegration into society, again through the shedding of blood. Even the cedarwood and crimson yarn used in the ritual sprinkling (14:6-8) are meant to suggest the spilling of blood.
The laws and regulations in our reading for today recognize that people living in a fallen world find themselves unintentionally separated from the community by circumstances or diseases over which they have no control. But to those who are alienated, these laws offer grace because through them the LORD opens a way for the afflicted to be reunited with family, with community, and with himself. In other words, the law offers hope.
The Old Testament does not know what we Christians call “original sin,” but the concept of ritual uncleanness recognizes that we are often separated from God and from other people by something that we are, rather than by anything that we did. Sin is not always intentional; sometimes it is simply the condition in which we find ourselves.
Chapter 12 of our reading deals with the return of women to normality after childbirth. The uncleanness here, as elsewhere in the Law of Moses, is associated with blood, the source and symbol of life. So the period of a woman’s uncleanness after the birth of a daughter is twice as long as it is for a son, because a female child will herself be a source of blood. It seems strange to us, but the intention of these laws is not to punish women, but rather to bring them back into the life of the community as soon as possible. The issue of blood made them unclean—a sacrifice of blood also restores their ritual cleanness (12:7).
Chapter 13 deals in much the same way with those suffering from infectious—the text uses the word “spreading” (13:52)--skin diseases. Not just sick people, but also sick houses and diseased clothing. Priests, in their role of discerning clean from unclean, function here as public health workers. They are not physicians—though diagnosis is part of their task. They are not in the business of curing a variety of infectious skin diseases and “itches”—all grouped together under the name “leprosy,”—but of protecting the community from ritual uncleanness and further contamination.
The rules of quarantine are harsh by any standard—“The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp” (Exodus 13:45-46).
In a world where a person’s life and meaning was found in kin relationships and in the worship and fellowship of the community, this enforced isolation would have been a living death. But the law also provided for the purification of cured lepers and their reintegration into society, again through the shedding of blood. Even the cedarwood and crimson yarn used in the ritual sprinkling (14:6-8) are meant to suggest the spilling of blood.
The laws and regulations in our reading for today recognize that people living in a fallen world find themselves unintentionally separated from the community by circumstances or diseases over which they have no control. But to those who are alienated, these laws offer grace because through them the LORD opens a way for the afflicted to be reunited with family, with community, and with himself. In other words, the law offers hope.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Day 31. Leviticus 8-11
A note about the vestments in which Aaron the high priest is clothed at his ordination. We encountered these items of special clothing in the Book of Exodus. The ephod is a sort of padded vest which was worn by the high priest when he was going about his ritual business. Its color, according to Exodus, was blue. The breastplate was worn over the ephod and was attached to it with cords. It was set with twelve precious stones in rows of three with the names of the tribes of Israel engraved on them. Inside the breastplate was a pocket which contained Urim and Thummim , the sacred lots that were used to foretell the future and to learn the will of God in certain cases. They must also have been used by the high priest in his role as judge.
The parts of the priest's vestments were symbolic and markedly different from normal clothing, which pointed to the uniqueness and holiness of the priest's calling. They were a uniform—a sacred costume. They tended to disguise the personality of the wearer and emphasize his function as the instrument of God. His business was to perform the rituals of atonement, not creatively or individually, but rightly—according to the LORD's instructions.
When the rituals were performed wrongly, terrible consequences followed. In Chapter 1O of today's reading we hear the story of Nadab and Abihu, Aaron's sons, who used "unholy fire" or "strange fire" to kindle the incense, and were themselves consumed by fire that "came out from the presence of the LORD" (Exodus 10:1-2). The meaning of "strange fire" is not immediately clear, but they apparently entered the sanctuary unprepared or unworthy and were destroyed for it.
Priests were no allowed the luxury of carelessness in their calling. An absolute scrupulosity was required of those who served in the tabernacle--and occasionally a heartless detachment from ordinary concerns. Aaron was forbidden by Moses to mourn for Nadab and Abihu because contact with the dead was the primary source of ritual uncleanness. Priests must not make themselves unclean, even at the death of their own family members. The good of the community came before individual feelings.
Priests were not to be impaired in any way in performing their ritual functions. That is why in 10:9 they are forbidden wine or strong drink. Their job was to distinguish the clean from the unclean and to perform the rituals in the right, prescribed manner. They must be absolutely sober. Nothing must get in the way of this function.
The distinctions made in Chapter 11 between clean and unclean animals will seem arbitrary to us—and they are. Every way of trying to explain them is fanciful. They just are what they are—the explicit command of the LORD. No why is offered.
The point of these rules is not logic, it is holiness. The dietary regulations set Israel apart from all other peoples. Keeping them was a sign of adherence to the covenant made with the LORD. The LORD is different from all other gods, and his people must be different from all other peoples. As the LORD says—"I am the LORD your God; sanctify yourselves therefore, and be holy, for I am holy. You shall not defile yourselves. . . ."
We will have more to say about "uncleanness" as we go along. But it is important to understand that in the Law of Moses uncleanness is not a moral condition; it is a ritual condition. It is contagious—it can be passed along by touching another person in that condition or contracted by touching an unclean thing.
Ritual uncleanness is a hard idea for us modern people to grasp, but it was powerful one to the people of Israel. To be unclean was to be aware of not being holy, of not being what you should be, of being unworthy of the special relationship the LORD has with his people and outside the pale of his grace. Sometimes time would take care of it, sometimes special ritual measures—washing or sacrifice--were necessary to make people and things clean. But uncleanness was always accompanied by shame and a sense of being excluded from the community, and being a part of the community, as we have said before, was everything.
The parts of the priest's vestments were symbolic and markedly different from normal clothing, which pointed to the uniqueness and holiness of the priest's calling. They were a uniform—a sacred costume. They tended to disguise the personality of the wearer and emphasize his function as the instrument of God. His business was to perform the rituals of atonement, not creatively or individually, but rightly—according to the LORD's instructions.
When the rituals were performed wrongly, terrible consequences followed. In Chapter 1O of today's reading we hear the story of Nadab and Abihu, Aaron's sons, who used "unholy fire" or "strange fire" to kindle the incense, and were themselves consumed by fire that "came out from the presence of the LORD" (Exodus 10:1-2). The meaning of "strange fire" is not immediately clear, but they apparently entered the sanctuary unprepared or unworthy and were destroyed for it.
Priests were no allowed the luxury of carelessness in their calling. An absolute scrupulosity was required of those who served in the tabernacle--and occasionally a heartless detachment from ordinary concerns. Aaron was forbidden by Moses to mourn for Nadab and Abihu because contact with the dead was the primary source of ritual uncleanness. Priests must not make themselves unclean, even at the death of their own family members. The good of the community came before individual feelings.
Priests were not to be impaired in any way in performing their ritual functions. That is why in 10:9 they are forbidden wine or strong drink. Their job was to distinguish the clean from the unclean and to perform the rituals in the right, prescribed manner. They must be absolutely sober. Nothing must get in the way of this function.
The distinctions made in Chapter 11 between clean and unclean animals will seem arbitrary to us—and they are. Every way of trying to explain them is fanciful. They just are what they are—the explicit command of the LORD. No why is offered.
The point of these rules is not logic, it is holiness. The dietary regulations set Israel apart from all other peoples. Keeping them was a sign of adherence to the covenant made with the LORD. The LORD is different from all other gods, and his people must be different from all other peoples. As the LORD says—"I am the LORD your God; sanctify yourselves therefore, and be holy, for I am holy. You shall not defile yourselves. . . ."
We will have more to say about "uncleanness" as we go along. But it is important to understand that in the Law of Moses uncleanness is not a moral condition; it is a ritual condition. It is contagious—it can be passed along by touching another person in that condition or contracted by touching an unclean thing.
Ritual uncleanness is a hard idea for us modern people to grasp, but it was powerful one to the people of Israel. To be unclean was to be aware of not being holy, of not being what you should be, of being unworthy of the special relationship the LORD has with his people and outside the pale of his grace. Sometimes time would take care of it, sometimes special ritual measures—washing or sacrifice--were necessary to make people and things clean. But uncleanness was always accompanied by shame and a sense of being excluded from the community, and being a part of the community, as we have said before, was everything.
Day 30 -- Leviticus 5-7
In looking at the reading for today with all of its regulations regarding sacrifices, we need to again ask the question—How was this text good news to those who first heard it?
Sacrifice offered a release from blame. We noted yesterday how sin was literally transferred from the worshipper to the animal brought for sacrifice. It was simple enough matter of laying a hand on the head of the beast and seeing it killed. The animal died so the sinner did not have to.
The minute regulations found in our reading for today insured that it was all done right. No mistakes must be made that might foul up the transaction. But once the whole thing had been performed correctly, the act of sacrifice provided a method of disposing of blame for sinful actions done willfully or inadvertently and a psychological release for the worshipper from the feeling of shame that came with breaking God’s Law. God’s anger was satisfied. The sinner was forgiven. Now life in the covenant community could go on.
But in order for the sacrifice to work that way, it must be real and appropriate--it must fit the sin committed and the position of the person bringing it. Food--particularly meat-- was very precious to people in Bible times. The sacrifice of a domestic animal involved a painful surrender of something precious. That was a crucial part of sacrifice—the loss of something valuable. Not everyone could afford to offer a sheep or a goat, so there was a sliding scale—you brought what you could afford. There was justice built into the sacrificial system.
And once the animal was killed and the prescribed parts offered to God, the rest of the sacrifice had to be completely disposed of in the right way. Many of these regulations in our reading have to do with how this was to be done—whether by being burned or by being given to the priests to consume as their payment for performing the ritual of atonement. Our text stipulates that a portion was to be “allotted to Aaron and to his sons from the offerings make by fire to the LORD, once they had been brought forward to serve the LORD as priests; these the LORD commanded to be given them, when he anointed them, as a perpetual due from the people of Israel throughout their generations” (Exodus 7:35-36) In this way the sacrificial system also provided for the expert help needed to make it work.
So how then did regulations found in our reading from the Book of Leviticus function as good news to those first heard them? First, these ritual laws offered a sense of freedom that comes from being released from blame. They worked to restore righteousness to the individual sinner under the Law. Second, these regulations provided a way back into the life of the community for those who had been alienated from it. The second of these effects was probably more important than the first. In the Biblical world, individual peace was a by-product of peace and order in the whole community. The life of the community—family, kin, tribe, nation--always comes before the life of the individual.
Sacrifice offered a release from blame. We noted yesterday how sin was literally transferred from the worshipper to the animal brought for sacrifice. It was simple enough matter of laying a hand on the head of the beast and seeing it killed. The animal died so the sinner did not have to.
The minute regulations found in our reading for today insured that it was all done right. No mistakes must be made that might foul up the transaction. But once the whole thing had been performed correctly, the act of sacrifice provided a method of disposing of blame for sinful actions done willfully or inadvertently and a psychological release for the worshipper from the feeling of shame that came with breaking God’s Law. God’s anger was satisfied. The sinner was forgiven. Now life in the covenant community could go on.
But in order for the sacrifice to work that way, it must be real and appropriate--it must fit the sin committed and the position of the person bringing it. Food--particularly meat-- was very precious to people in Bible times. The sacrifice of a domestic animal involved a painful surrender of something precious. That was a crucial part of sacrifice—the loss of something valuable. Not everyone could afford to offer a sheep or a goat, so there was a sliding scale—you brought what you could afford. There was justice built into the sacrificial system.
And once the animal was killed and the prescribed parts offered to God, the rest of the sacrifice had to be completely disposed of in the right way. Many of these regulations in our reading have to do with how this was to be done—whether by being burned or by being given to the priests to consume as their payment for performing the ritual of atonement. Our text stipulates that a portion was to be “allotted to Aaron and to his sons from the offerings make by fire to the LORD, once they had been brought forward to serve the LORD as priests; these the LORD commanded to be given them, when he anointed them, as a perpetual due from the people of Israel throughout their generations” (Exodus 7:35-36) In this way the sacrificial system also provided for the expert help needed to make it work.
So how then did regulations found in our reading from the Book of Leviticus function as good news to those first heard them? First, these ritual laws offered a sense of freedom that comes from being released from blame. They worked to restore righteousness to the individual sinner under the Law. Second, these regulations provided a way back into the life of the community for those who had been alienated from it. The second of these effects was probably more important than the first. In the Biblical world, individual peace was a by-product of peace and order in the whole community. The life of the community—family, kin, tribe, nation--always comes before the life of the individual.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day 29 --Leviticus 1-4
When my father butchered cattle back home on the ranch in North Dakota, before he killed a critter, while it was tied down and ready to be slaughtered, he would lay his hand on its head and whisper softly and soothingly into its ear for a while, calming it down gently before he killed it. I knew then what he was doing--he was telling the animal that he was sorry it had to die so that we could eat. It was dying for us, and so it deserved thanks and a moment of gentleness and grace before the end.
I’m reminded of my father doing that as I read these chapters at beginning of the Book of Leviticus. When the Israelites brought their animal sacrifices offered for well-being or to atone for sins they had committed, they were commanded to lay their hand on the head of the animal so that it would be acceptable on their behalf as an offering of atonement—see Leviticus 1:4 as well as several other places in our reading for today.
It was not just a symbolic action. It was a moment of literal transference—by the laying of his or her hand on the head of the animal the sin of the person was literally transferred to the animal. The animal became the sinner. In the ritual of sacrifice—you might say, in the sacrament of animal sacrifice, something was really happening, something deeply personal between the worshipper and the LORD. Sin was being atoned—the sinner and the holy God were being made “at one.” Their relationship, fractured by the breaking of the Law, was restored through the shedding of blood.
Sin against the Law should mean death to the sinner. But the animal’s blood was spilled so that the person who sacrificed it would not have to die. You notice that blood must always be spilled—it was never to be eaten (3:17). Some little of the blood—life of the animal—was dabbed on the altar as a sign, but the rest was returned to the earth out of which life comes. The fat was not eaten either--it belonged to the LORD and was “turned into smoke as a food offering by fire for a pleasing odor” (3:16).
The priest met the worshipper at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, but he was there only in the capacity of an expert helper. He functioned to help you make your sacrifice in the right way—righteously. He did what you could not ritually do. But the sacrifice itself was a deeply personal action, something that went on between the person who had offended and LORD who was wronged. The priest was at most a member of the supporting cast in the drama, never a primary actor. He stood outside the action—the expert butcher.
Our text says that “the priest shall make atonement on your behalf for the sin you have committed, and you shall be forgiven” (4:31), but sacrifice in ancient Israel was not part of a priestly cult. It was not a mystery. It was unique in the ancient world in that it took place in the presence of the worshipper, in the open air, not in some dark sanctuary. There was no hocus pocus involved—it was as straightforward as what goes on in a slaughter house. You brought the animal. You laid your hand on it. It was killed in the proper way. The blood was spilled on the ground. The fat was burned up. The meat was disposed of. The past was extinguished. And you went on your way, alive and reconciled to the LORD—the balance was restored--everything was all right--until the next time, of course.
I’m reminded of my father doing that as I read these chapters at beginning of the Book of Leviticus. When the Israelites brought their animal sacrifices offered for well-being or to atone for sins they had committed, they were commanded to lay their hand on the head of the animal so that it would be acceptable on their behalf as an offering of atonement—see Leviticus 1:4 as well as several other places in our reading for today.
It was not just a symbolic action. It was a moment of literal transference—by the laying of his or her hand on the head of the animal the sin of the person was literally transferred to the animal. The animal became the sinner. In the ritual of sacrifice—you might say, in the sacrament of animal sacrifice, something was really happening, something deeply personal between the worshipper and the LORD. Sin was being atoned—the sinner and the holy God were being made “at one.” Their relationship, fractured by the breaking of the Law, was restored through the shedding of blood.
Sin against the Law should mean death to the sinner. But the animal’s blood was spilled so that the person who sacrificed it would not have to die. You notice that blood must always be spilled—it was never to be eaten (3:17). Some little of the blood—life of the animal—was dabbed on the altar as a sign, but the rest was returned to the earth out of which life comes. The fat was not eaten either--it belonged to the LORD and was “turned into smoke as a food offering by fire for a pleasing odor” (3:16).
The priest met the worshipper at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, but he was there only in the capacity of an expert helper. He functioned to help you make your sacrifice in the right way—righteously. He did what you could not ritually do. But the sacrifice itself was a deeply personal action, something that went on between the person who had offended and LORD who was wronged. The priest was at most a member of the supporting cast in the drama, never a primary actor. He stood outside the action—the expert butcher.
Our text says that “the priest shall make atonement on your behalf for the sin you have committed, and you shall be forgiven” (4:31), but sacrifice in ancient Israel was not part of a priestly cult. It was not a mystery. It was unique in the ancient world in that it took place in the presence of the worshipper, in the open air, not in some dark sanctuary. There was no hocus pocus involved—it was as straightforward as what goes on in a slaughter house. You brought the animal. You laid your hand on it. It was killed in the proper way. The blood was spilled on the ground. The fat was burned up. The meat was disposed of. The past was extinguished. And you went on your way, alive and reconciled to the LORD—the balance was restored--everything was all right--until the next time, of course.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day 28 -- Exodus 38-40
As you went through the reading for today you probably noticed those words—“as the Lord had commanded Moses”—repeated again and again and again. That phrase becomes a litany, pointing to the fact that in constructing the tabernacle everything was done right, according to the command of God revealed through his conduit Moses.
That God has revealed his will completely to his chosen people—that is the Good News of the Old Testament. Once the Law was given, nothing more needed to be revealed. The Law is holy and perfect.
And to be righteous means to do everything according to the command of God--to do things right, the way the Israelites built the tabernacle. They built it exactly the way they were told to--they did it right, and the LORD blessed with the glory of his presence (Exodus 40:34-38).
So if God has given us his perfect law, it is up to those who covenant with God to learn that law by heart and apply it to their lives. If they do that faithfully, they can keep it and be righteous. Nothing stands in the way of keeping the law but human ignorance and willful disobedience.
And when mistakes are made and sins committed, the Law provides its own way to restore people to righteousness. Blood sacrifice offers those who have knowingly sinned or think they may by accident have transgressed the Law a way to restore their relationship with God and try again.
As we launch further into the Law of Moses we will have more to say about this, but now is perhaps an opportune time to note that the Old Testament does not know what we call “guilt”—that deep sense of personal unworthiness and interior uncleanness—what Christian theology calls “original sin.”
In the Old Testament “shame” is what people feel when they violate the commands of God, the shame Adam and Eve felt in the garden. The Law does not do anything to help us deal with our guilt, our feelings of personal unworthiness. It only makes them worse—that is the message of St. Paul. Only faith in the sufficient sacrifice of Jesus Christ can address our guilt and alienation.
But the Law of Moses did deal effectively with shame. It showed Israel what it meant to lead a righteous life, and when they fell short of righteousness, it provided a way to bring them back into their covenant relationship with the LORD through sacrifice and renewed obedience.
So the Law was once good news—but not for us.
That God has revealed his will completely to his chosen people—that is the Good News of the Old Testament. Once the Law was given, nothing more needed to be revealed. The Law is holy and perfect.
And to be righteous means to do everything according to the command of God--to do things right, the way the Israelites built the tabernacle. They built it exactly the way they were told to--they did it right, and the LORD blessed with the glory of his presence (Exodus 40:34-38).
So if God has given us his perfect law, it is up to those who covenant with God to learn that law by heart and apply it to their lives. If they do that faithfully, they can keep it and be righteous. Nothing stands in the way of keeping the law but human ignorance and willful disobedience.
And when mistakes are made and sins committed, the Law provides its own way to restore people to righteousness. Blood sacrifice offers those who have knowingly sinned or think they may by accident have transgressed the Law a way to restore their relationship with God and try again.
As we launch further into the Law of Moses we will have more to say about this, but now is perhaps an opportune time to note that the Old Testament does not know what we call “guilt”—that deep sense of personal unworthiness and interior uncleanness—what Christian theology calls “original sin.”
In the Old Testament “shame” is what people feel when they violate the commands of God, the shame Adam and Eve felt in the garden. The Law does not do anything to help us deal with our guilt, our feelings of personal unworthiness. It only makes them worse—that is the message of St. Paul. Only faith in the sufficient sacrifice of Jesus Christ can address our guilt and alienation.
But the Law of Moses did deal effectively with shame. It showed Israel what it meant to lead a righteous life, and when they fell short of righteousness, it provided a way to bring them back into their covenant relationship with the LORD through sacrifice and renewed obedience.
So the Law was once good news—but not for us.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Day 27 -- Exodus 35-37
After the depressing incident of the golden calf and the chaos and bloodshed that follow upon it, today’s reading presents us with a much more positive picture of the people of Israel. Now that they have been disciplined and united by the leadership of Moses, the Community of the Promise is able to work together with a single will to build the tabernacle and to be what God has called them to be.
When Moses asks the people for a freewill offering to construct and furnish the tent of meeting in accordance with the LORD’s instructions, the response is immediate and overwhelming. “Let whoever has a generous heart bring the LORD’s offering,” Moses tells the people (Exodus 35:5), and “everyone whose heart was stirred, and everyone whose spirit was willing . . . , brought the LORD’s offering to be used for the tent of meeting, and for all its service, and for the sacred vestments” (35:21).
In these chapters we are given a wonderful description of a whole nation working together in unity and harmony to complete the sacred project. All the people are inspired to bring their treasures and to use their talents. “All the skillful women spun with their hands, and brought what they had spun” (35:25), we are told.
The text goes on to say that the LORD called by name one Bezalel and “filled him with divine spirit, with skill, intelligence, and knowledge of every kind of craft, to devise artistic designs. . .and inspired him to teach” those crafts and communicate those designs to all who were willing (35:30 and following). The artist becomes a charismatic prophet, using his skills to praise the LORD. And inspired by the Spirit, anonymous men and women carry forward the work of creation.
This is what human life is supposed to be.
After disobedience and lawlessness, everything is obedience and good order. The word “all” is repeated again and again, indicating that this work is truly communal. Everyone is involved. “All the Israelite men and women whose hearts made them willing to bring anything for the work that the LORD had commanded by Moses to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to the LORD,” the text says (35:29).
And the text makes clear that the impetus for all this selfless giving and working is a grateful response to God’s act of salvation in bringing the people out of bondage in Egypt. Thankfulness overflows in lavish giving. The response was so great that “the people had to be restrained from bringing; for what they had already brought was more than enough to do all the work” (36:6-7).
The account of the building of the tabernacle is really the climax of the Book of Exodus. The building is perfect, and the building of it perfects the people. Momentarily the people live up to their potential. Individual ego is overcome by communal praise. This is what God intended when he chose Israel as his own.
When Moses asks the people for a freewill offering to construct and furnish the tent of meeting in accordance with the LORD’s instructions, the response is immediate and overwhelming. “Let whoever has a generous heart bring the LORD’s offering,” Moses tells the people (Exodus 35:5), and “everyone whose heart was stirred, and everyone whose spirit was willing . . . , brought the LORD’s offering to be used for the tent of meeting, and for all its service, and for the sacred vestments” (35:21).
In these chapters we are given a wonderful description of a whole nation working together in unity and harmony to complete the sacred project. All the people are inspired to bring their treasures and to use their talents. “All the skillful women spun with their hands, and brought what they had spun” (35:25), we are told.
The text goes on to say that the LORD called by name one Bezalel and “filled him with divine spirit, with skill, intelligence, and knowledge of every kind of craft, to devise artistic designs. . .and inspired him to teach” those crafts and communicate those designs to all who were willing (35:30 and following). The artist becomes a charismatic prophet, using his skills to praise the LORD. And inspired by the Spirit, anonymous men and women carry forward the work of creation.
This is what human life is supposed to be.
After disobedience and lawlessness, everything is obedience and good order. The word “all” is repeated again and again, indicating that this work is truly communal. Everyone is involved. “All the Israelite men and women whose hearts made them willing to bring anything for the work that the LORD had commanded by Moses to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to the LORD,” the text says (35:29).
And the text makes clear that the impetus for all this selfless giving and working is a grateful response to God’s act of salvation in bringing the people out of bondage in Egypt. Thankfulness overflows in lavish giving. The response was so great that “the people had to be restrained from bringing; for what they had already brought was more than enough to do all the work” (36:6-7).
The account of the building of the tabernacle is really the climax of the Book of Exodus. The building is perfect, and the building of it perfects the people. Momentarily the people live up to their potential. Individual ego is overcome by communal praise. This is what God intended when he chose Israel as his own.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Day 26 Exodus 31-34
In our reading for today we turn from the laws governing the building of the Tabernacle back to the narrative of the Israelites’ sojourn at Sinai.
In Chapter 32 the people become impatient, waiting at the foot of the mountain for Moses to return. They don’t know what has become of him. Moses had exercised charismatic leadership with divine authority. Now they prevail upon Aaron the high priest to take over that role, and Aaron makes them the image of a golden calf to worship. A bull calf was the animal form often taken by the chief ancient Semitic deity called Baal—the name literally means “lord.” Baal, the god of thunder and storms, was the counterpart of the Greek god Zeus and was widely worshipped in many forms throughout the ancient Near East. To the Israelites it probably seemed the most natural thing in the world to worship the God who had brought them out of Egypt with power and spoke with thunder from the mountain in the form of a golden bull calf of Baal.
But the LORD would not allow himself to be represented in visible forms. The prohibition upon the making of divine images was the first commandment of the Law and allowed no compromise. In Exodus 32:7-8 the LORD says to Moses: “Go down at once! Your people, whom you have brought up out of the land of Egypt, have acted perversely; they have been quick to turn aside from the way that I commanded them; they have cast for themselves an image of a calf, and have worshipped it and sacrificed to it, and said, ‘These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you out of the land of Egypt.’”
The text says that the LORD considered destroying the people outright for this blasphemy, but Moses pleaded with him, recalling Abraham pleading for Sodom, and “the LORD changed his mind about the disaster that he planned to bring upon his people” (14). But when Moses saw “that the people were running wild” he ordered a massacre that cost the lives of three thousand. He then blesses those Levite priests who had followed his command: “Today you have ordained yourselves for the service of Lord, each one at the cost of a son or a brother, and so have brought a blessing on yourselves this day” (32:29)
We have a difficult time with passages like this one, which seem so barbarous and bloodthirsty. But we must constantly keep in mind that whereas our culture places the highest value on the individual, in the Old Testament world it is the family, the community, and the nation that rank first in importance. In this communitarian structure, it is order, obedience, and conformity to law that prevail over all else. Individual concerns matter, but only in so far as they serve the larger whole.
The first five books of the Bible, called the Books of Moses or the Pentateuch, are concerned primarily with how the Community of the Promise is formed, preserved and defended. The uncompromising attitude toward idolatry found in the reading for today—see 34:11-15—is part of the general concern to preserve community. Unless there is purity and unity of worship, unless the uncompromising demand of the LORD to be worshipped solely is observed, the Family of Promise will disintegrate. At all costs this must not happen. Everything is at stake.
But in spite of the importance of the community, there always is room in this world for the individual, the Chosen One
The real hero of these chapters is Moses, the intermediary between God and his people. “The LORD used to speak to Moses face to face,” chapter 33, verse 11 says, “as one speaks to a friend.” It is not a relationship of equals—Moses is only allowed to see the glory God bring behind as he passes by--but the LORD and his prophet depend upon each other. When God loses his temper, Moses speaks to calm him. When Moses in a rage smashes the tablets on which the finger of God has written the Commandments, God dutifully rewrites them.
They work together in partnership and upon their friendship the survival and mission of the People of the Promise depend. So Moses says to God—“If now I have found favor in your sight, O Lord, I pray, let the Lord go with us. Although this is a stiff-necked people, pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance” (34:9).
And largely for Moses sake, the LORD does pardon Israel and take the people back. And the story goes on. . . .
In Chapter 32 the people become impatient, waiting at the foot of the mountain for Moses to return. They don’t know what has become of him. Moses had exercised charismatic leadership with divine authority. Now they prevail upon Aaron the high priest to take over that role, and Aaron makes them the image of a golden calf to worship. A bull calf was the animal form often taken by the chief ancient Semitic deity called Baal—the name literally means “lord.” Baal, the god of thunder and storms, was the counterpart of the Greek god Zeus and was widely worshipped in many forms throughout the ancient Near East. To the Israelites it probably seemed the most natural thing in the world to worship the God who had brought them out of Egypt with power and spoke with thunder from the mountain in the form of a golden bull calf of Baal.
But the LORD would not allow himself to be represented in visible forms. The prohibition upon the making of divine images was the first commandment of the Law and allowed no compromise. In Exodus 32:7-8 the LORD says to Moses: “Go down at once! Your people, whom you have brought up out of the land of Egypt, have acted perversely; they have been quick to turn aside from the way that I commanded them; they have cast for themselves an image of a calf, and have worshipped it and sacrificed to it, and said, ‘These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you out of the land of Egypt.’”
The text says that the LORD considered destroying the people outright for this blasphemy, but Moses pleaded with him, recalling Abraham pleading for Sodom, and “the LORD changed his mind about the disaster that he planned to bring upon his people” (14). But when Moses saw “that the people were running wild” he ordered a massacre that cost the lives of three thousand. He then blesses those Levite priests who had followed his command: “Today you have ordained yourselves for the service of Lord, each one at the cost of a son or a brother, and so have brought a blessing on yourselves this day” (32:29)
We have a difficult time with passages like this one, which seem so barbarous and bloodthirsty. But we must constantly keep in mind that whereas our culture places the highest value on the individual, in the Old Testament world it is the family, the community, and the nation that rank first in importance. In this communitarian structure, it is order, obedience, and conformity to law that prevail over all else. Individual concerns matter, but only in so far as they serve the larger whole.
The first five books of the Bible, called the Books of Moses or the Pentateuch, are concerned primarily with how the Community of the Promise is formed, preserved and defended. The uncompromising attitude toward idolatry found in the reading for today—see 34:11-15—is part of the general concern to preserve community. Unless there is purity and unity of worship, unless the uncompromising demand of the LORD to be worshipped solely is observed, the Family of Promise will disintegrate. At all costs this must not happen. Everything is at stake.
But in spite of the importance of the community, there always is room in this world for the individual, the Chosen One
The real hero of these chapters is Moses, the intermediary between God and his people. “The LORD used to speak to Moses face to face,” chapter 33, verse 11 says, “as one speaks to a friend.” It is not a relationship of equals—Moses is only allowed to see the glory God bring behind as he passes by--but the LORD and his prophet depend upon each other. When God loses his temper, Moses speaks to calm him. When Moses in a rage smashes the tablets on which the finger of God has written the Commandments, God dutifully rewrites them.
They work together in partnership and upon their friendship the survival and mission of the People of the Promise depend. So Moses says to God—“If now I have found favor in your sight, O Lord, I pray, let the Lord go with us. Although this is a stiff-necked people, pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance” (34:9).
And largely for Moses sake, the LORD does pardon Israel and take the people back. And the story goes on. . . .
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Day 25 -- Exodus 28-30
The Tabernacle, rightly considered, was for the people of Israel a machine for atonement. Every part had a distinct function in bringing Israel and the LORD together, right down to the vestments of the priests, which are so lavishly described in today’s readings.
Take for instance the pattern of tassels on the blue ephod the high priest wore. The tassels, shaped like pomegranates, alternated with tiny golden bells “all around the hem of the robe” (Exodus 28:33-35). Besides decoration, they had a very distinct function in the atonement ritual. “Aaron shall wear [the ephod] when he ministers,” says the text, “and its sound shall be heard when he goes into the holy place before the LORD, and when he comes out, so that he may not die.”
Only the high priest was allowed to go into the holy place to sprinkle blood on the Mercy Seat on top of Ark to make atonement for the sins of the people. The sound of the bells indicated that he was alive and well as he went about his sacred duties. If, however, the bells were no longer heard, those who were listening for their sound outside would know that the priest had died in the holy place. We know from other sources that a rope was tied to his ankle so that in that event his corpse could be pulled out without profaning the holy place.
It all makes a perfect sense in this ritual universe.
Every detail of the priestly vestments was minutely prescribed—even down to their underwear—see 28:48. Everything had its symbolic function. The priests in their elaborate costumes were simply another part of the furnishing of the tabernacle, another cog in the machine. Their sole reason for being was to facilitate the bringing together of God and the covenant people in the Tent of Meeting. Even in consuming the flesh of the sacrificed animals they functioned to “eat” the sins of the people (29:33).
It is not easy for us to appreciate all these ritual instructions for what they are. But it is important to remember what we have said before--every word of Scripture was once good news to someone. At the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, where sacrifices were offered for their sin, the people of Israel met their God—29:42—and were reconciled with him. Keeping the minute instructions in these chapters of Exodus made it possible for them to experience God dwelling with them—29:45-46—in a community of grace and peace. Sacrifice made it possible for them to experience that oneness with God and with the other members of covenant community we have through the sacraments of the Church, and it is as sacrament and liturgy that these regulations in Exodus are best understood.
Take for instance the pattern of tassels on the blue ephod the high priest wore. The tassels, shaped like pomegranates, alternated with tiny golden bells “all around the hem of the robe” (Exodus 28:33-35). Besides decoration, they had a very distinct function in the atonement ritual. “Aaron shall wear [the ephod] when he ministers,” says the text, “and its sound shall be heard when he goes into the holy place before the LORD, and when he comes out, so that he may not die.”
Only the high priest was allowed to go into the holy place to sprinkle blood on the Mercy Seat on top of Ark to make atonement for the sins of the people. The sound of the bells indicated that he was alive and well as he went about his sacred duties. If, however, the bells were no longer heard, those who were listening for their sound outside would know that the priest had died in the holy place. We know from other sources that a rope was tied to his ankle so that in that event his corpse could be pulled out without profaning the holy place.
It all makes a perfect sense in this ritual universe.
Every detail of the priestly vestments was minutely prescribed—even down to their underwear—see 28:48. Everything had its symbolic function. The priests in their elaborate costumes were simply another part of the furnishing of the tabernacle, another cog in the machine. Their sole reason for being was to facilitate the bringing together of God and the covenant people in the Tent of Meeting. Even in consuming the flesh of the sacrificed animals they functioned to “eat” the sins of the people (29:33).
It is not easy for us to appreciate all these ritual instructions for what they are. But it is important to remember what we have said before--every word of Scripture was once good news to someone. At the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, where sacrifices were offered for their sin, the people of Israel met their God—29:42—and were reconciled with him. Keeping the minute instructions in these chapters of Exodus made it possible for them to experience God dwelling with them—29:45-46—in a community of grace and peace. Sacrifice made it possible for them to experience that oneness with God and with the other members of covenant community we have through the sacraments of the Church, and it is as sacrament and liturgy that these regulations in Exodus are best understood.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Day 24 --Exodus 24-27
As a kid I was greatly fascinated by the Bible’s description of the tabernacle Moses built, following the explicit instructions of the LORD found in our reading for today. In Sunday School we constructed a cardboard replica of the Tent of Meeting with its surrounding fences and set it in a shallow wooden box filled with sand. I remember everything about the little cardboard tabernacle and its furnishings.
There was the Ark of the Covenant with its golden cherubim described in Exodus 25:10. This was in fact an empty throne on which the invisible God, who would not allow himself to be depicted in any image, was thought to sit in state.
There was a golden table on which “the bread of the Presence” was always displayed before him (25:30). There was a golden seven-branched candlestick that burned day and night to light the holy place in which God dwelled. There was a bronze altar of sacrifice upon which blood offerings were made.`
Every detail of the tabernacle’s furnishings was revealed to Moses by God on the mountain—25:40. And the Tent of Meeting (25:22) had enormous significance for the people of Israel--its material richness testified to that. It was a symbol of God’s presence among them and a place for the LORD to live with them in a very literal sense. “Make me a sanctuary,” God instructs Moses, “that I may dwell among them” (25:8).
The tabernacle brought God into the midst of the people, but also hid him from them. It was composed of concentric circles of curtains which formed barriers between the human world and the divine. The curtain that separated the holy place from the Holy of Holies (26:33) symbolized the distance between God’s perfection and our sinfulness. Anyone who tried to break through that barrier would die.
But the shedding of animal blood that took place on the altar in front of tabernacle was intended to bridge the distance between God and the sinful people.
The shedding of animal blood symbolically brought God and the people together. Blood sealed the covenant Israel made with the LORD. “All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient” (2$:7) the people say, and Moses splashes them with sacrificial blood. Blood atoned—the word means made “at one”—for their sins and brought together what would otherwise be opposite and irreconcilable. Blood partially removed the barrier between God and his people, but never removed it far enough so that further sacrifice was unnecessary. Blood must be shed again and again and again. The tabernacle was a sufficient answer to the problem of human sinfulness, but never a final one.
There was the Ark of the Covenant with its golden cherubim described in Exodus 25:10. This was in fact an empty throne on which the invisible God, who would not allow himself to be depicted in any image, was thought to sit in state.
There was a golden table on which “the bread of the Presence” was always displayed before him (25:30). There was a golden seven-branched candlestick that burned day and night to light the holy place in which God dwelled. There was a bronze altar of sacrifice upon which blood offerings were made.`
Every detail of the tabernacle’s furnishings was revealed to Moses by God on the mountain—25:40. And the Tent of Meeting (25:22) had enormous significance for the people of Israel--its material richness testified to that. It was a symbol of God’s presence among them and a place for the LORD to live with them in a very literal sense. “Make me a sanctuary,” God instructs Moses, “that I may dwell among them” (25:8).
The tabernacle brought God into the midst of the people, but also hid him from them. It was composed of concentric circles of curtains which formed barriers between the human world and the divine. The curtain that separated the holy place from the Holy of Holies (26:33) symbolized the distance between God’s perfection and our sinfulness. Anyone who tried to break through that barrier would die.
But the shedding of animal blood that took place on the altar in front of tabernacle was intended to bridge the distance between God and the sinful people.
The shedding of animal blood symbolically brought God and the people together. Blood sealed the covenant Israel made with the LORD. “All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient” (2$:7) the people say, and Moses splashes them with sacrificial blood. Blood atoned—the word means made “at one”—for their sins and brought together what would otherwise be opposite and irreconcilable. Blood partially removed the barrier between God and his people, but never removed it far enough so that further sacrifice was unnecessary. Blood must be shed again and again and again. The tabernacle was a sufficient answer to the problem of human sinfulness, but never a final one.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Day 23 -- Exodus 21-23
In the reading for today it is difficult to put your finger on just why exactly these laws seem so unlike our modern laws.
Of course, we realize immediately that the laws found in Exodus reflect the social realities of a far distant time. Slavery is firmly in place. The liberties we take for granted—speech and religious expression--are unheard of. No one—male, female, slave or free--has the freedoms we regard as rights.
And yet, for its time, this law code was very advanced, not to say radical in its treatment of the most vulnerable. Slaves have rights—see Exodus 21:26-27—even if they are not the same rights as free citizens. The law even reflects a concern for animals. The Sabbath is provided for their rest—chapter 23:12—and grotesque cruelty against them is prohibited—23:19b.
Yet the fundamental difference between this law and our own goes much deeper than culture. Here in Exodus it is the LORD who is the guarantor of human rights and the protector of the weak, not the secular government. It is he protects the rights of those who would otherwise be most in danger of exploitation.
In 22:21-24 God speaks—“You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt. You shall abuse any widow or orphan. If you do abuse them, when they cry out to me, I will surely heed their cry; my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children orphans.”
It is God and not the government who stands behind the law—he is the father who protects and punishes. This is sacred law, even when it deals with the most mundane realities of daily life, founded upon the character of Creator, who is not only just but merciful. The Bible knows no such thing as secular law—all law is sacred and arises from the character of the God who is just and merciful in perfect balance.
And God’s mercy calls for practical kindness in us.
According to this code of law, if you take your neighbor’s cloak in pawn, you must restore it before the sun goes down or he will be too cold to sleep. It is simply practical kindness—but the LORD stands behind that demand for everyday mercy with his justice. If you are callous, he says, and “your neighbor cries out to me, I will listen, for I am compassionate” (22:25-27).
Many modern Americans wish that there was less government control of their daily lives. It has become a mantra among certain political groups—less government, more individual rights. But someone has to step in to protect us all from our human nature, in which self-interest is a more powerful motive than compassion. If the secular government does not legislate to protect the weak, a pseudo-divine authority will do so—a fascist dictator or a council of ayatollahs. And that authority will undoubtedly take away the very freedoms and privileges we consider our created rights.
In a secular society, the state is the guarantor of justice. The government is our father, whether we like it or not. This is by no means an ideal situation. But in our world, it would not be a just and loving God who would step in if there were less government control, but a cruel dictator who has clothed himself in the robes of divine power.
The best way to look at the laws we find in Exodus is to think about their original intent, and let them judge our personal conduct. Do our lives reflect that balance of mercy and justice we find in the character of the God? Are our actions governed by practical kindness or practical indifference?
Of course, we realize immediately that the laws found in Exodus reflect the social realities of a far distant time. Slavery is firmly in place. The liberties we take for granted—speech and religious expression--are unheard of. No one—male, female, slave or free--has the freedoms we regard as rights.
And yet, for its time, this law code was very advanced, not to say radical in its treatment of the most vulnerable. Slaves have rights—see Exodus 21:26-27—even if they are not the same rights as free citizens. The law even reflects a concern for animals. The Sabbath is provided for their rest—chapter 23:12—and grotesque cruelty against them is prohibited—23:19b.
Yet the fundamental difference between this law and our own goes much deeper than culture. Here in Exodus it is the LORD who is the guarantor of human rights and the protector of the weak, not the secular government. It is he protects the rights of those who would otherwise be most in danger of exploitation.
In 22:21-24 God speaks—“You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt. You shall abuse any widow or orphan. If you do abuse them, when they cry out to me, I will surely heed their cry; my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children orphans.”
It is God and not the government who stands behind the law—he is the father who protects and punishes. This is sacred law, even when it deals with the most mundane realities of daily life, founded upon the character of Creator, who is not only just but merciful. The Bible knows no such thing as secular law—all law is sacred and arises from the character of the God who is just and merciful in perfect balance.
And God’s mercy calls for practical kindness in us.
According to this code of law, if you take your neighbor’s cloak in pawn, you must restore it before the sun goes down or he will be too cold to sleep. It is simply practical kindness—but the LORD stands behind that demand for everyday mercy with his justice. If you are callous, he says, and “your neighbor cries out to me, I will listen, for I am compassionate” (22:25-27).
Many modern Americans wish that there was less government control of their daily lives. It has become a mantra among certain political groups—less government, more individual rights. But someone has to step in to protect us all from our human nature, in which self-interest is a more powerful motive than compassion. If the secular government does not legislate to protect the weak, a pseudo-divine authority will do so—a fascist dictator or a council of ayatollahs. And that authority will undoubtedly take away the very freedoms and privileges we consider our created rights.
In a secular society, the state is the guarantor of justice. The government is our father, whether we like it or not. This is by no means an ideal situation. But in our world, it would not be a just and loving God who would step in if there were less government control, but a cruel dictator who has clothed himself in the robes of divine power.
The best way to look at the laws we find in Exodus is to think about their original intent, and let them judge our personal conduct. Do our lives reflect that balance of mercy and justice we find in the character of the God? Are our actions governed by practical kindness or practical indifference?
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Day 22 Exodus 17-20
Writing to you on the Christian Sabbath, I should say a few words about the significance of the Jewish Sabbath. . . . .
In Jesus’ time there was a continuing debate among the rabbis about which of the Ten Commandments was the greatest. Remember that an expert on the Jewish law—the Gospels call him a “lawyer”—once asked Jesus, “Which of the commandments is the greatest?” (Find the story in Matthew 22:34ff.)
Jesus gave a quite a different answer about loving your neighbor as yourself, but many of the rabbis in his time regarded the third commandment—“Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8)—as the greatest. Why?
It had to do with the particularity of the Jewish people. All the other commandments were known to non-Jews and were followed by those among the gentiles who tried to do right. Only the Jews had the Sabbath. It was their particular treasure and their differentiating mark. Keeping the Sabbath made one a member of the covenant people. Jesus did not buy this, as you remember, and his biggest conflicts with the Pharisees were triggered by his loose interpretation of the Sabbath command.
Our reading for today is central to the history of the Chosen People. The ragtag, complaining crowd reach Mount Sinai, the place where Moses had met the LORD in a burning bush, and camp there. Now the LORD comes to them, prepared to make them into something entirely new. He tells Moses to say to them, “If you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all peoples” (19:5).
All the people are summoned to the foot of the mountain to meet God. The theophany—the God appearance—is described in all of its glory and awesome majesty (19:10). The people are solemnly warned to keep their distance or “the LORD will break out against them” (19:22). The presence of God has the power to slay those who get too close to it—rather like a jolt of holy electricity. The God of the Covenant is a dangerous God for those who break the ground rules.
The people are appropriately terrified by the glory of this covenanting God, but they are all there nevertheless. Later rabbis said that every Jew who ever has lived or ever will live was spiritually present that day at Sinai when God laid out the terms of the covenant that made Israel his “treasured possession.” And by their being there they gave their consent to what their obedience would entail. They agreed to follow the commandments they were given to the letter.
They broke their agreement, of course, but God always was faithful to it. And he was willing to renew the covenant when it was fractured. And in Jesus he extended it to include the human race—that is our good news.
The text says that the people are so terrified by the glory of God and voice speaking with the sound of thunder that Moses has to speak those essential comforting words of Gospel—“Do not be afraid.” Even the terror the appearance of God inspires is grace—“God has come only to test you and put the fear of him upon you so that you do not sin” (20:20).
The Law was for Israel the best good news. Now they knew exactly what God expects. The terms of the covenant with Abraham were made perfectly clear. Each Jewish Sabbath is a celebration and reenactment of that covenant making at Mount Sinai which joined their lives with the life of God, just as each Christian Sabbath is a celebration of the resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost by which our lives have been grafted by our faith in Jesus Christ into the covenant God made with Israel.
In Jesus’ time there was a continuing debate among the rabbis about which of the Ten Commandments was the greatest. Remember that an expert on the Jewish law—the Gospels call him a “lawyer”—once asked Jesus, “Which of the commandments is the greatest?” (Find the story in Matthew 22:34ff.)
Jesus gave a quite a different answer about loving your neighbor as yourself, but many of the rabbis in his time regarded the third commandment—“Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8)—as the greatest. Why?
It had to do with the particularity of the Jewish people. All the other commandments were known to non-Jews and were followed by those among the gentiles who tried to do right. Only the Jews had the Sabbath. It was their particular treasure and their differentiating mark. Keeping the Sabbath made one a member of the covenant people. Jesus did not buy this, as you remember, and his biggest conflicts with the Pharisees were triggered by his loose interpretation of the Sabbath command.
Our reading for today is central to the history of the Chosen People. The ragtag, complaining crowd reach Mount Sinai, the place where Moses had met the LORD in a burning bush, and camp there. Now the LORD comes to them, prepared to make them into something entirely new. He tells Moses to say to them, “If you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all peoples” (19:5).
All the people are summoned to the foot of the mountain to meet God. The theophany—the God appearance—is described in all of its glory and awesome majesty (19:10). The people are solemnly warned to keep their distance or “the LORD will break out against them” (19:22). The presence of God has the power to slay those who get too close to it—rather like a jolt of holy electricity. The God of the Covenant is a dangerous God for those who break the ground rules.
The people are appropriately terrified by the glory of this covenanting God, but they are all there nevertheless. Later rabbis said that every Jew who ever has lived or ever will live was spiritually present that day at Sinai when God laid out the terms of the covenant that made Israel his “treasured possession.” And by their being there they gave their consent to what their obedience would entail. They agreed to follow the commandments they were given to the letter.
They broke their agreement, of course, but God always was faithful to it. And he was willing to renew the covenant when it was fractured. And in Jesus he extended it to include the human race—that is our good news.
The text says that the people are so terrified by the glory of God and voice speaking with the sound of thunder that Moses has to speak those essential comforting words of Gospel—“Do not be afraid.” Even the terror the appearance of God inspires is grace—“God has come only to test you and put the fear of him upon you so that you do not sin” (20:20).
The Law was for Israel the best good news. Now they knew exactly what God expects. The terms of the covenant with Abraham were made perfectly clear. Each Jewish Sabbath is a celebration and reenactment of that covenant making at Mount Sinai which joined their lives with the life of God, just as each Christian Sabbath is a celebration of the resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost by which our lives have been grafted by our faith in Jesus Christ into the covenant God made with Israel.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Day 21 -- Exodus 14-16
In our reading for today Moses says to the terrified people of Israel, “Do not be afraid, stand firm, and see the deliverance that the LORD will accomplish for you today; for the Egyptians whom you see today you shall never see again” (14:13-14).
Those three words—Do not be afraid—enclose the essential gospel. Fear is the opposite of faith, not doubt. All of us sometimes experience doubt, but doubt does not constitute our essential human problem, fear does. Fear is what separates us from God--fear of the future--fear of the harm other people might be able to do to us. There is not one of us who has not been frozen in his or her steps by anxiety and fear. But to this fear the Word of the God always speaks directly—Do not be afraid. God has made a covenant with you. He will fight for you. Bad things may happen to you along the way, as bad things happened to Israel, but in the end you will triumph, not by any action on your own part, but because God himself will deliver you. The problems that confront you today will not be there tomorrow. As Moses says to Israel—“The Egyptians whom you see today you shall never see again.”
So we are not to be afraid of people and circumstances, but we should have a proper respect for the power of God. When the children of Israel saw their drowned pursuers—those of whom they had so recently been afraid—the text says that they recognized “the great work that the LORD did against the Egyptians. So the people feared the LORD....”
This appropriate fear is the right attitude we should toward the God who delivers us from the things of which we are afraid. We worship a dangerous and glorious God. Holy fear goes well beyond the word “respect,” because it comes with the overwhelming need to praise the Object of Our Praise. The text says that in response to their deliverance Israel sang the song we find in Chapter 15 , the psalm that begins with the words—“I will sing to the LORD, for he has triumphed gloriously. . . .”
And the the proper purpose of human beings is to praise God. That is what we were created to do. Music is by no means the only vehicle of praise. All the arts of humanity are gifts given to us for that specific purpose. So is human science. So is the ability to live and act and work with integrity. The ethical life—the righteous life, to use a biblical word--is properly the highest praise we can offer. And all of us can strive to live that righteous life, whatever our abilities or talents. Integrity in acting and working is possible for all of us by the grace of God.
One word about where the events of our text take place. The Red Sea mentioned in 15:4 may be the Sea of Reeds, a large shallow slough on the western edge of the Sinai. It is quite conceivable that its shallow waters might have been driven back by a strong, persistent desert wind and returned when the wind ceased. So the miracle that saved Israel might possibly be explained by natural phenomena.
And the manna Israel ate in the wilderness--the Bread of Heaven--was probably the secretions of a desert insect still found and consumed by the desert dwellers of Sinai today. But that does not matter, beloved.
As we said before--Miracles do not create faith; faith creates miracles. The real miracle is the faith itself. Faith is the way that God delivers people like you and me from the fears that paralyze us and gives us something to live for—a reason to give praise to the LORD, our strength and our might, which is the whole motive of our existence and the meaning of our lives.
Those three words—Do not be afraid—enclose the essential gospel. Fear is the opposite of faith, not doubt. All of us sometimes experience doubt, but doubt does not constitute our essential human problem, fear does. Fear is what separates us from God--fear of the future--fear of the harm other people might be able to do to us. There is not one of us who has not been frozen in his or her steps by anxiety and fear. But to this fear the Word of the God always speaks directly—Do not be afraid. God has made a covenant with you. He will fight for you. Bad things may happen to you along the way, as bad things happened to Israel, but in the end you will triumph, not by any action on your own part, but because God himself will deliver you. The problems that confront you today will not be there tomorrow. As Moses says to Israel—“The Egyptians whom you see today you shall never see again.”
So we are not to be afraid of people and circumstances, but we should have a proper respect for the power of God. When the children of Israel saw their drowned pursuers—those of whom they had so recently been afraid—the text says that they recognized “the great work that the LORD did against the Egyptians. So the people feared the LORD....”
This appropriate fear is the right attitude we should toward the God who delivers us from the things of which we are afraid. We worship a dangerous and glorious God. Holy fear goes well beyond the word “respect,” because it comes with the overwhelming need to praise the Object of Our Praise. The text says that in response to their deliverance Israel sang the song we find in Chapter 15 , the psalm that begins with the words—“I will sing to the LORD, for he has triumphed gloriously. . . .”
And the the proper purpose of human beings is to praise God. That is what we were created to do. Music is by no means the only vehicle of praise. All the arts of humanity are gifts given to us for that specific purpose. So is human science. So is the ability to live and act and work with integrity. The ethical life—the righteous life, to use a biblical word--is properly the highest praise we can offer. And all of us can strive to live that righteous life, whatever our abilities or talents. Integrity in acting and working is possible for all of us by the grace of God.
One word about where the events of our text take place. The Red Sea mentioned in 15:4 may be the Sea of Reeds, a large shallow slough on the western edge of the Sinai. It is quite conceivable that its shallow waters might have been driven back by a strong, persistent desert wind and returned when the wind ceased. So the miracle that saved Israel might possibly be explained by natural phenomena.
And the manna Israel ate in the wilderness--the Bread of Heaven--was probably the secretions of a desert insect still found and consumed by the desert dwellers of Sinai today. But that does not matter, beloved.
As we said before--Miracles do not create faith; faith creates miracles. The real miracle is the faith itself. Faith is the way that God delivers people like you and me from the fears that paralyze us and gives us something to live for—a reason to give praise to the LORD, our strength and our might, which is the whole motive of our existence and the meaning of our lives.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Day 20 -- Exodus 11-13
Someone who is reading through the scriptures with us e-mailed me the other day with a reaction to the readings.* He said that he found some of the sexual material in the Book of Genesis “embarrassing.” He’s right. It is. The only answer I can think of to make is what my mother used to say to me when I was a kid—“Billy, the big embarrassments are yet to come.”
To say that in the Bible human relationships are treated with bold frankness is to say the very least. The Bible discloses all that we need to know about God, and more than we need to know about ourselves--the whole stinking truth about our species. But that is one reason that the Bible has such authority as Word of God for us. It does not hide the truth. The God who meets us in the Bible is holy, but the Book of Faith is not prudish. It takes for granted that people can be nasty, but God values and loves us in spite of our nastiness. And as far as embarrassments are concerned, in the Bible there are worse yet to come.
The reading for today brings the story of the Exodus to its climax. Israel is rescued from the last and most terrible plague, the death of the firstborn, only by strict and absolute obedience to the demands of God. God claims for himself the first of everything. “The LORD said to Moses: Consecrate to me all the firstborn; whatever is first to open the womb among the Israelites, of human beings and animals, is mine’” (13:1-2).
We have already read the story of how God called upon Abraham to sacrifice his firstborn son Isaac (Genesis 22). Isaac belonged by rights to God absolutely, and God could justly ask for his return at any time. Only by an act of God’s mercy was Abraham allowed to substitute the blood of an animal for the life of the child. Blood is the sign of life, and the blood sacrifice became the sign of Abraham’s absolute obedience.
Now the sacrifice of the lambs at Passover becomes the sign of the absolute obedience of the People of Israel to the covenant. The obedient shedding of innocent blood redeemed the firstborn of the people from death, and the blood--the sign of God’s mercy--became the visible symbol of their obedience. So God commanded the people to take some of the blood of the sacrificed lamb and “put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it” (12:7). And the Angel of Death would pass over the houses so marked. The sign of death became the source of life.
Everything about the Passover feast points to a willingness to be absolutely obedient to the call. There was to be no sign of delay or reluctance in preparing and eating it. The people were to eat the meal fully dressed and hurriedly (12:11). Everything about the Passover meal is symbolic of what their relationship to God should be like—spontaneous and immediate.
Leavening stands for the past, for waiting. Now the time for waiting is past. Therefore they are to put away all leavening. Get rid of it. The past is extinguished. Now there is no time left to delay while the bread rises. “They baked the unleavened cakes of dough that they brought out of Egypt,” the text says, “because they were driven out of Egypt and could not wait, nor had they prepared any provisions for themselves” (12:39).
We need to remember that too—there is no time to respond to the call of God but right now. . . .
*If you have questions about the text, the best way to contact me is by email at williamroen@gmail.com .
To say that in the Bible human relationships are treated with bold frankness is to say the very least. The Bible discloses all that we need to know about God, and more than we need to know about ourselves--the whole stinking truth about our species. But that is one reason that the Bible has such authority as Word of God for us. It does not hide the truth. The God who meets us in the Bible is holy, but the Book of Faith is not prudish. It takes for granted that people can be nasty, but God values and loves us in spite of our nastiness. And as far as embarrassments are concerned, in the Bible there are worse yet to come.
The reading for today brings the story of the Exodus to its climax. Israel is rescued from the last and most terrible plague, the death of the firstborn, only by strict and absolute obedience to the demands of God. God claims for himself the first of everything. “The LORD said to Moses: Consecrate to me all the firstborn; whatever is first to open the womb among the Israelites, of human beings and animals, is mine’” (13:1-2).
We have already read the story of how God called upon Abraham to sacrifice his firstborn son Isaac (Genesis 22). Isaac belonged by rights to God absolutely, and God could justly ask for his return at any time. Only by an act of God’s mercy was Abraham allowed to substitute the blood of an animal for the life of the child. Blood is the sign of life, and the blood sacrifice became the sign of Abraham’s absolute obedience.
Now the sacrifice of the lambs at Passover becomes the sign of the absolute obedience of the People of Israel to the covenant. The obedient shedding of innocent blood redeemed the firstborn of the people from death, and the blood--the sign of God’s mercy--became the visible symbol of their obedience. So God commanded the people to take some of the blood of the sacrificed lamb and “put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it” (12:7). And the Angel of Death would pass over the houses so marked. The sign of death became the source of life.
Everything about the Passover feast points to a willingness to be absolutely obedient to the call. There was to be no sign of delay or reluctance in preparing and eating it. The people were to eat the meal fully dressed and hurriedly (12:11). Everything about the Passover meal is symbolic of what their relationship to God should be like—spontaneous and immediate.
Leavening stands for the past, for waiting. Now the time for waiting is past. Therefore they are to put away all leavening. Get rid of it. The past is extinguished. Now there is no time left to delay while the bread rises. “They baked the unleavened cakes of dough that they brought out of Egypt,” the text says, “because they were driven out of Egypt and could not wait, nor had they prepared any provisions for themselves” (12:39).
We need to remember that too—there is no time to respond to the call of God but right now. . . .
*If you have questions about the text, the best way to contact me is by email at williamroen@gmail.com .
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