Second Exodus

            The book of Joshua begins in marked contrast to the book of Exodus.  In Exodus, we have Israel’s enemy, the Pharaoh of Egypt, who hardens his heart against them and their God, who, when first confronted about Israel, declares that he will make their lot even harder.  In Joshua, we find Israel’s enemy, in this case, the warlord of Jericho and his town, whose heart has melted in fear of Israel and of their God, who is suspicious and scared.

            As if to highlight the connection of the two stories, Joshua presents us with a ‘second Exodus.’  This one isn’t quite as dramatic as the first one, but it is an important indicator of the story we’re in.  The story is saying that merely being ‘sprung’ from slavery is not the fullness of God’s intention for Israel.  He intends to keep the promises to Abraham.  He has already made them a great nation (Gen. 12:2); we hear on the lips of the Jerichohites that the name of Israel has become great (Gen. 12:2).  Now He is bringing them into the land He had promised (Gen. 12:7).  All of which points us to the reality that the Lord has a grander plan for Israel than just freedom or independence:  He intends to keep the climactic promise, too—“Through you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen.12:3).

            Where does that leave us?  Well, there’s the reality of a great, preceding Exodus, when our Lord Jesus confronted the arrayed powers of sin and death and journeyed from death on the cross to life in His resurrection.  And there’s the following reality of our own personal exodus, being baptized into His death and resurrection, thereby coming into our inheritance.  Now, it may not seem like it, but the hearts of our enemies—sin, death, the devil—melt before us, too, because they have seen the mighty act of God in raising Jesus from the dead.

Be Strong and Courageous

            Three times in Joshua 1 the Lord tells Joshua to be strong and courageous.  It is tempting to think of Joshua as a young man, facing his own inexperience.  After all, Jeremiah is scared to be the Lord’s man (Jer. 1:4-8), specifically because he is young.  And we’ve all experienced doing something for the first time—whether it’s driving or starting a new school or giving a speech or leading a meeting.  It’s scary when you don’t know what you’re getting into.

            But, Joshua is probably about 50 years old when the Conquest begins.  (Remember he was Moses’ aide de camp while Israel was at Mt. Sinai, 40 years before!)  Even keeping in mind that Joshua lived to be 110 (Josh. 24:29), this is no youth!

            So, why the fear?  Sometimes knowing what you are getting into is more frightening than not knowing.  I’ll tell you, I’ve had two crowns put on my teeth, and I would be very reluctant to get a third.  I’ve had people tell me that if they had known how hard it would be to quit smoking, they never would have started.  I’m guessing Robert Bobb, the state-assigned financial manager for Detroit Public Schools, would think twice before taking the assignment again.  You can multiply examples from all sorts of walks of life.  Sometimes you know how hard it’s going to be and need to hear the Lord say—three times—“Be strong and courageous.”

            Consider these factors:  Joshua was one of the spies who had originally investigated Canaan.  He knew that 10 of his 11 colleagues had withered under the prospect.  He hears the people of Israel say, “We’ll obey you just like we obeyed Moses.”  Can you imagine?  He knew full well that they had not obeyed Moses particularly well at all!  They grumbled, complained, and challenged.  “We’ll obey you just like we did Moses”?  Oh, boy!  Looking forward to that!

            Experience and inexperience are both susceptible to fear.  Inexperience needs to the courage to try something new; experience needs the courage to get back on the horse and try it again.  So, “Be strong and very courageous.  Do not be dismayed, for the Lord is with you wherever you go.”

A Dominant Figure

            Moses has been the star of the story for a long time now.  We first read about his birth in Exodus 2, way back in Week 5.  (We’re in Week 18 now!)  He has dominated the story in a way no one before has.  He has been a savior, a mediator, an intercessor.  The end of Deuteronomy declares, “There’s never been a prophet like him.”  But, in the end, he dies.  He’s not the Savior, the Mediator, the Intercessor.  He is, at best, a type of the One who was yet to come.  This keeps Moses in perspective in terms of salvation history.

            There’s a more mundane lesson here for the church, too.  No one is irreplaceable.  Because the thing that matters is that the Lord keeps His promises, no one person matter too much.  I’ve thought from time to time that that’s one of the reasons that Lutherans have kept on using vestments (the technical name for the pastor’s robe).  We put the man in a robe because his fashion sense doesn’t matter; his personal style doesn’t matter; he doesn’t matter.  What matters is that he speaks God’s promises, because God’s promises matter.

            Now I know that people do matter, and I know that some people like one pastor better than another, and I know that some pastors are better at what they do than others.  But, I think you have to agree:  there’s only one Jesus.  Moses isn’t Jesus; your favorite pastor isn’t Jesus; and you’re not Jesus, either.  What Jesus has done in His suffering and death, in His work as prophet, as the One who knows the Father—that’s what matters!

Final Encouragements

            Moses’ final blessing (Deuteronomy 33) seems to anticipate the coming conquest of the Promised Land and the ensuing settlement of the land.  Notice these two things about the way the tribes are described.  First, Simeon is never mentioned.  Perhaps this is because the entire inheritance of Simeon is surrounded by Judah, and Simeon and Judah often act in concert together.  (By the time of the divided kingdom, Simeon had been absorbed into Judah.)  Second, Naphtali is told to “possess the lake.”  (Naphtali’s portion is on the northern and western sides of the Sea of Galilee.)

            More than prophecy about possession, though, it seems that Moses is encouraging the people to actually take over the land this time.  Last week, we heard Moses tell Joshua to be strong and courageous twice (Deut. 31:6, 23).  Here we have him assuring the people about their inheritance and about the God who fights on their behalf.  In both cases, Moses seems to be exhorting to take the land, to trust the Lord and take the land He has promised.

            For the Christian, Promised Land runs forward to the re-creation of the earth on the last day.  Perhaps we should hear in this chapter an assurance that we will have a share in that future through the work of Jesus, the faithful Israelite, and an encouragement to keep on—even in the face of a hostile world—because the one who is in us is greater than the one who is in the world (1 John 4:4).

What a Strange Story!

            Have you ever been struck by how good it is that the Lord is God and that we are not?  I found Deuteronomy 31 a little disturbing.  In it the Lord says, “Look, I know that Israel is going to fail.  I know they’re going to abandon me and I’m going to punish them.”  I don’t know what to make of a God who knows beforehand the trouble that His people are going to cause, but who chooses to do things His way anyway.

            When I teach the story of the Bible, I refer to God’s strange plan.  And it is a strange plan that from a rebellious people He will bring forth the One who will heal their rebellion, and not just theirs but the rebellion of the whole world.

            It’s even stranger than that, though.  I read a book called The Life of Pi while I was in Chicago earlier this month.  The main character was an Indian.  Raised a Hindu, he describes his first encounter with Christianity.  Listening to the story of our faith with Hindu ears captured its strangeness for me in a really fresh way.

            “And what a story.  The first thing that drew me in was disbelief.  What?  Humanity sins but it’s God’s Son who pays the price?  I tried to imagine Father [a zookeeper] saying to me, “Piscine, a lion slipped into the llama pen today and killed two llamas.  Yesterday another one killed a black buck.  Last week two of them ate the camel.  The week before it was painted storks and grey herons.  And who’s to say for sure who snacked on our golden agouti?  The situation has become intolerable.  Something must be done.  I have decided that the only way the lions can atone for their sins is if I feed you to them.”

            “Yes, Father, that would be the right and logical thing to do.  Give me a moment to wash up.”

            “Hallelujah, my son.”

            “Hallelujah, Father.”

            What a downright weird story.  What peculiar psychology.

            I asked for another story, one that I might find more satisfying.  Surely this religion had more than one story in its bag—religions abound with stories.  But Father Martin made me understand that the stories that came before it—and there were many—were simply prologue to Christians.  Their religion had one Story, and to it they came back again and again, over and over.  It was story enough for them.”

The bit in question goes on for two more pages.  You can check it out of the library for yourself (Life of Pi, by Yann Martel).  My point is simply that our God has a unique approach to salvation, and it involves extending Himself through the agency of a rebellious people, just as He still extends His reign through humans, namely, His church.

Scattered and Gathered

            The scattering of Israel was a covenant curse.  Historically, Israel was scattered following the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BC as a result of their chronic breaching of the covenant by following other gods.  It wasn’t an absolute rejection of Israel.  The Lord kept a remnant in the land and brought a portion back from exile because His promise would be fulfilled through Israel.  In the period between the testaments, though, we discover that not all Jews made their way back to the land.  A Jewish population remained in Babylon; another developed in Egypt; still others grew in Asia Minor and points west.

            However, the scattering of Israel in the exile and beyond ceased to be the biblical story after the ministry of Jesus.  Then, it was the scattering of the church that mattered.  The church was not scattered as a punishment but as a mission strategy.  So, for example, everyone knows that the so-called Great Commission does not contain a command to go.  The word there is a participle:  ‘while you’re on your way’ is a better translation.  (I don’t know why the English translations make the choice they make.)  God’s people are scattered like seed throughout the earth to produce a great harvest for the kingdom.

            The gathering of Deuteronomy 30 has its historical fulfillment in 538 BC, when the first exile return to ruined Jerusalem.  But for the church, the gathering becomes an end-time event; the return to the land becomes the advent of the new heaven and new earth; and the circumcision of hearts—now by faith—becomes the reality of renewed lives in God’s good presence.  This is not allegorizing; this is the appropriate recognition that the church’s story flows out of Israel’s story but that the church’s story is fundamentally different than Israel’s. 

Critique of Rob Bell's "Love Wins"

            Many of my normal readers will not know who Rob Bell is.  He is the founding pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  In the 12 years since its founding, the church has grown to 10,000 weekly attendees and they have a huge multi-media presence, including a very active web-based ministry and a series of very popular videos under the title NOOMA.  Even if you haven’t heard of Rob Bell, someone you know very likely has.

            I am writing today in review of Bell’s latest book , Love Wins.  I became aware of the book because of a great deal of pre-publication hype.  The Christian blogosphere was watching for the book because details were leaked before publication that Bell would be advocating a universalist position, that is, that he would advocate the idea that everyone would eventually be saved.  I took a class at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in the week before publication, and, since the professor had a pre-publication copy of the book, it became a topic around the edges of the class.

            I bought Love Wins a day after its publication, and I’m going to use this space to review it.  Well, review is too strong a word.  I have some thoughts about the book that I’d like to share, and I have some thoughts about the state of the contemporary church that flow out of those thoughts.  So, for what it’s worth—my take on Rob Bell’s Love Wins.

            The first thing to say is that Bell gets some things profoundly right.  Let me just list a few.  First, I think he gets at the freeness and the joy of the Gospel very well.  I don’t always recognize the church that he is reacting against, but I do appreciate that there are many people who have felt that the church wasn’t for them, either because the church was too judgmental or because they hadn’t heard clearly that God forgives all sins in Jesus Christ.  I have no doubt that Bell has attracted a lot of people who felt marginalized by the contemporary church.  Second, he gets the nature of ‘heaven’ a lot closer to correct than stereotypical Christianity often does.  He challenges the sort of St.-Peter-guarding-the-pearly-gates image that a lot of folks conjure with a much more biblical image of a new heavens and new earth.  (Judging from his recommended reading list, he has learned this at the knee of N. T. Wright.)  Third, he has learned something of the historical meaning of Jesus.  He realizes in certain cases the political, this-worldly nature of the challenge that Jesus lays down.

            There are some things to like about Bell, but there are several things to criticize, as well.  First among my criticism is that Bell is not a good theological writer.  He approaches his task in an almost stream-of-consciousness style.  The book is filled with sentence fragment after sentence fragment, and he often chooses to portray his text poetically.  By the latter comment, I mean that he often inserts line break for emphasis.  Here’s a completely random example from page 46:

“Honest business,

redemptive art,

honorable law,

sustainable living,

medicine,

education,

making a home,

tending a garden—

they’re all sacred tasks to be done in partnership with God now, because they will all go on in the age to come.”

Now, I realize that criticizing an author’s writing style can be incredibly niggling, even petty, but bear with me.

            Theology is a careful discipline.  Theologians deal with the most ultimate of matters:  the nature and character of God, His will and purposes in the world, and, as Bell notes in the subtitle of his book, “the fate of every person who ever lived.”  Theologians (well, good theologians) deal with those matters on the basis of God’s own words.  Therefore, careful use of language is an absolute necessity.  The theologian who doesn’t use language well can’t be trusted to deal with the language by which God has revealed Himself to us and he can’t be trusted to nuance his own arguments appropriately.

            Bell communicates many powerful images, but he is not a nuanced or clear writer, at least in this book.  The book reads like an extended sermon, not a treatise on important theological matters.  While Bell may respond that that is exactly the style he was aiming for, the reality is he has encroached on areas of theology that need extended, careful exposition.

            This is nowhere clearer than in the rather cavalier way that Bell sometimes treats the Scriptures.  I don’t want to be overly critical.  As I’ve already suggested, there are things that Bell gets profoundly right.  But he gets those things right, at least, in my opinion, because he has built on the foundation of other people’s more careful work.  I mentioned that Bell cites N. T. Wright’s book, Surprised by Hope, for further reading on resurrection and new creation (201).  Wright’s book is in turn a synthesis and popularization of a much larger work, The Resurrection of the Son of God.  Wright has done his homework and is able to refer readers to his more extended discussion.  However, Bell takes over aspects of Wright’s work without Wright’s nuance.  Surprised by Hope runs to 300 pages; The Resurrection of the Son of God runs to 800 (tiny print, too!).  Take all the white space out of Bell’s book and I’d be surprised if you ended up with 150 pages.  Bell desperately needs to argue the texts he utilizes more carefully, as opposed to his preferred method of just throwing together a catena of verses together and asserting Q.E.D., or, “Look, it’s just like I told you!”

            In particular, Bell’s hermeneutical approach to the prophets is unclear.  On pages 86-87, he cites 13 verses from the prophets to prove that “no matter how far people find themselves from home because of their sin, indifference, and rejection, there’s always the assurance that it won’t be this way forever” (86).  He never discusses the fact that these verses are addressed to the Old Testament nation of Israel, primarily as it stands in danger of exile because of covenantal unfaithfulness.  He never addresses that the Lord has a unique purpose for Israel that demands her preservation, namely, the coming of the Messiah.  He never addresses the complex way in which these promises of restoration flow into the work of Jesus the Messiah and the ways that Israel’s national purpose is fulfilled in Jesus.  (Yes, to my theologically adept friends, I guess I am some variety of supersessionist.)

            This lack of attention to the text reveals itself in the way Bell quotes other authors, too.  On page 106, he cites Martin Luther to the effect that God could offer people a second chance after death.  He does the same thing with Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Eusebius, Jerome, Basil, and Augustine (107).  Now, because Bell hasn’t cited any of his references, one can’t check the context.  However, he gives enough details about the Luther quote that an industrious pastor with a complete set of Luther’s Works (AE) on his shelf finds the reference in vol. 43, p. 54.  The letter in which it is contained is only 4 ½ pages long, and if anyone wants to read it in its entirety, I’ll get a copy to you.  Consider, though, this statement from the paragraph prior to the one Bell quotes.  “If God were to save anyone without faith, he would be acting contrary to his own words and would give himself the lie; yes, he would deny himself.  And that is impossible for, as St. Paul declares, God cannot deny himself [II Tim. 2:13].”  In the paragraph Bell cites, Luther says that no one would deny that God could create faith at the moment of death, but he asserts clearly, “No one, however, can prove that he does do this.”  Taking Martin Luther out of context is bad scholarship; taking the words of God out of context is bad theology, and, dare I say, false teaching.

            There’s more to criticize in Bell’s approach to the Scriptures, but let me make just one more observation.  His understanding of the Mosaic sacrificial system is plain wrong.  On page 123, he lists several examples of animal sacrifice, and in those examples he mixes up imagery from Moses and from the wider world of paganism to leave the impression that Israel’s sacrificial system worked on the basis of sympathetic magic and divination.  How someone who wants to co-opt the prophets so thoroughly for his purposes can so blithely dismiss Moses is beyond my understanding.

            Having read this muddled book, I’m not sure that Bell actually ever says that every person who ever lived will experience the joy of the Father’s presence in the new creation.  He certainly teaches that hell is experienced here on earth and that one’s rejection of God’s story will carry into God’s new creation (cf. his discussion of Luke 15 in chapter 7).  He certainly leaves open that God will allow people the ongoing chance to align themselves with his plans and purposes for eternity.  Ironically, he leaves the impression of a theology more akin to Roman Catholicism than Protestantism.  Vatican II accepted Karl Rahner’s ‘anonymous Christians’ in Lumen Gentium and Gaudium et Spes.  And Bell’s sense of extended ‘second chances’ sounds a great deal like purgatory shed of the purgative elements.

            Much more could be said.  Much more should be said—about Bell’s confusion of Law and Gospel, of his desire for a God simple enough to fit his own preconceived notion of how God ought to be, etc.  But this is a blog, and I have other work to do.  I do hope that serious scholars will address this book.  I’ll conclude my critique with a quotation from the same letter from Martin Luther that Bell cites:

“To arrive at an answer to this question [on whether God can or will save people who die without faith] it is necessary to separate our opinion from God’s truth.  We must be scrupulously concerned that we do not give God the lie.  We must rather admit that all men, all angels, and all devils are lost than to say that God is not truthful in what he says.  Such questions issue from the innate inquisitiveness of human nature, which is loathe to reconcile itself to the fact that it is not supposed to know God’s reasons for such severe and stringent judgments” (AE 43:52).

A Holy People--Dedicated to the Lord's Words

            I found two interesting turns-of-phrase in today’s reading.  The first was in Deuteronomy 29:10, “You are standing today—all of you—before the Lord your God.”  I found that interesting because of the common inclination to think that spiritual things belong to a more spiritual class of people.  I notice it all the time:  people seem to think that just because you’re a pastor you’ve got some sort of special prayer ability.  I don’t know if people think that the Lord listens more closely to well-spoken prayers, or if they think that pastors pray more than every other Christian, or if they think that clergy have a hotline to God—like he lets your prayers go to voicemail, but he gets mine on the direct line.  But here, the entire population of Israel enters into the covenant; everyone stands before the Lord.  While the Church has a collective life, within that collective life, each one is called to stand individually with the Lord.

            The second turn of phrase is in verse 29, “The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us.”  Lutherans make a theological distinction between what we call the Deus absonditus, that is, the hidden God, and the Deus revelatus, that is, the revealed God.  It’s a principle of our theology that God has not chosen to reveal every facet of Himself to us.  There are things that remain hidden in the mind of God, questions that we’ll never answer.  Think of the questions raised about conversion and salvation—why some are saved and others aren’t?  Think of the questions that tragedy raises—why would God let that happen?  Think of questions of timing—why does God delay?  Each of those is a question that the Lord has not answered.  On the other hand, the things that we are called to follow are those things that God has revealed in His Word.  His earnest desire to save humankind, the reality that not all will enjoy His presence for eternity, His sovereignty over all creation, His determined plan to work all things out for good—all of those we are bound to, even if we can’t answer all the questions they raise in our minds.

A Pool of Important Images

            I’d invite you to re-read this chapter.  “Why?” you ask.  Re-read it because this language forms the pool from which the prophets will draw imagery about God’s judgment.  Isaiah, in particular, will fish in this pool.

            So, here is specifically covenantal language.  It is addressed to Israel, as a nation, as she is about to enter the next stage of her national existence.  If she keeps her end of the covenant, the Lord will bless her; if she doesn’t, the Lord will punish her—as a nation—with exile.  Isaiah sees the disobedience piling, and he sees in the Assyrians (700 years later) the working out of those national curses.  Isaiah also sees the days coming when Judah will face similar consequences because of her idolatry.

            Now, here’s the thing.  Isaiah (and other prophets) often take blessings and curses specific to Israel and draw them into a larger eschatological framework.  That is, they see in the national fate of Israel an intimation, a foreshadowing, of the fate of God’s whole world.

            Christian reflection grabs that larger framework and runs it through Jesus, through Whom all of God’s plans and purpose of the world.  Then, Christian reflection uses that same language and imagery to describe the ultimate fate of God’s whole world.

            So re-read this chapter, because this is imagery that, while specific to the nation of OT Israel in this case, will find wider application in the reflection of what God ultimately has in mind for His creation, through Jesus.

Formalizing the Covenant

            As so often in the Old Testament, ‘mount’ is a little generous for Ebal and Gerizim.  According to one source Ebal rises about 1400 feet above the valley floor, and Gerizim rises several hundred feet over the same valley.  What we have here is not really the Grand Canyon nor even the Shenandoah Valley.  What we do have is a sort of natural amphitheater, with a fairly narrow valley framed by two sloping hills.  So, the picture we should have in our minds is the tribes of Israel arrayed on the slopes of the hills, filling in toward the valley floor.

            They’re arranged this way for a covenant renewal/affirmation ceremony.  They are, in a sense, summarizing who they are and affirming the consequences of disobedience to the covenant before them.  Their ‘Amens’ after each of the curses is sort of like signing and signing and signing when you get a loan or a mortgage.  Your signature says, “Yes, I agree to that stipulation.  Yes, I agree with that statement.  Yes, I agree that that’s a fair penalty if I default.”  The scene carries on for several chapters.

Generous Justice

            Israel was meant to be a just society.  As God’s peculiar people, they were to exhibit concern and care for the poor and marginalized in their midst.  After all, to hear Jesus tell it, that’s how the reign of God works:  the lowly are lifted up and the mighty are brought low, contrary to all value judgments of the fallen world around us.

            So, in Deuteronomy 24, we have concerns for the newlywed, who ought to be allowed to enjoy his new status for a while—even though the newlywed is most likely young and therefore eligible for and capable of military service.  We have concerns for collateral.  Israelites can’t take means of livelihood in pledge of a loan.  How could the borrower earn what is necessary to get back on his feet?  Israelites were not to enter a borrower’s house and seize collateral.  The one forced to borrow was granted his dignity.  (Ever had an overdue bill and gotten the dunning call?  It doesn’t take long to get stripped of your dignity when money’s at stake!)  Israelites were not to keep the pledges of the poor overnight.  After all, one of the common pledges was a cloak, and for the poor person that cloak may very well be the only defense they have against the chill of night.

            A while ago, I was reading something about poverty.  I don’t remember what it was (I read too much in too many contexts to keep it straight if I don’t write it down), but the point was pretty clear.  More than resources, poor people want their human dignity.  They want to participate in society and decision-making.  They want the honor of having a voice.  Deuteronomy acknowledges the importance of dignity.

            Along with being just, Israel is to be generous.  So, there is concern for the sojourner, the orphan, and the widow.  Specifically, Israel is not supposed to ‘over-harvest’ their fields.  Leftovers are for the provision of the poor.  I don’t know about you, but I waste very little.  We use a spatula to get everything out of a can; we use the last little bit of paper toweling, even those it’s been stuck to the roll; and I can’t imagine leaving a sheaf of grain behind by accident.  But the Lord encourages leaving some of the harvest behind for the poor.  The reasoning is interesting, too:  you were a foreigner in Egypt, that is, you lived on the largesse of the Egyptians (even though you were slaves!) and you were recipients of my generosity in bringing you out.  So, the call for generosity and justice are calls to be like the Lord.

Making Connections

            In the last couple of days, I have noticed two instances in which verse from Deuteronomy are quoted in the New Testament.  The principle of two witnesses (Deut. 19:15) is quoted by Jesus (Matt. 18:16), Paul (2 Cor. 13:1), and the writer of Hebrews (10:28).  Likewise, Paul grabs on to a verse from today’s reading—Deut. 21:23—and makes a huge theological point in Galatians 3:13.

            Now, both of those instances ‘work;’ there is no hermeneutical funny-business.  Jesus and Paul, especially, are using the ‘two witnesses’ principle in a discussion about confronting sin.  (The writer to the Hebrews has a little more of a stretch.)  And Paul’s use of the statement about being hung on a tree presents itself very clearly in Gal. 3, since he is talking about Jesus being cursed for being nailed to a tree.

            The thing that puzzles—amazes—me is that I’m not reading Deuteronomy that closesly.  The bit about cursedness and trees is tucked in regulation about firstborn sons, rebellious son, and lost oxen.  The bit about witnesses is tucked between cases of manslaughter, property markers, and the conduct of war.  I don’t know about you, but I read these things two and three times sometimes, because, really, we’ve been over this ground before, and I lose interest and focus.  Jesus and Paul did not lose focus.  They searched the Scriptures, looking for application, looking for hints of God’s plans and purposes.

            One of the themes of this blog has been that it is hard to appropriately apply the Scriptures—to do it in a way that is sensitive to their Christological center and that takes full account of their historical nature.  Yet, we see from the New Testament that our efforts aren’t wasted.  There is that moment of comprehension, that moment of connection, when we see the consistency of God’s Words—old and new, when we are rewarded with a new, hard-won insight into the character of God.

            I guess I’m just saying, “Keep at it, folks.”  We’ve been in the law of Moses for a long time (about 9 weeks, by my count), and I suspect that these last few days in Deuteronomy have been tough for you as they have been for me, because interest is flagging.  Keep at it.  Obscure as they may seem, these are still the words of God!

A Prophet Like Moses

            Commentators (well, evangelical commentators, anyway) widely understand Deuteronomy 18:15 as a messianic prophecy.  The expectation of the ‘second coming of Moses’ was current in Jesus’ day.  Someone even asked John the Baptizer if he was ‘the Prophet.’  It’s understandable that John was thought of like that:  after all, he summoned the people back to the Jordan, in a way enacting a new Exodus through the practice of baptism.  (John was a prophet of renewal, calling Israel to be faithful again to her history and to her identity as God’s treasured possession.)

            I find the progression of Matthew’s Gospel most interesting:  it begins with John’s call to repentance (Exodus), brings Jesus into the wilderness for trial and testing, specifically about whether He will trust the Lord’s purposes for Him (Israel in the wilderness), and the next thing we know, He’s on a mountain, teaching about identity in the Lord and the way that identity is lived out (Sermon on the Mount/Deuteronomy).  In other words, it sure seems that Matthew wants us to see Jesus as the ‘prophet like Moses.’

            Now, some care is called for.  Jesus is not a new lawgiver.  He’s the Savior, who fulfills Israel’s vocation on behalf of mankind.  (On the other hand, it’d be a disservice, if we saw Moses only as a lawgiver!)  I think it’s important that we keep this in mind:  Israel is not some law-driven, legalistic thing.  If there has been one theme we have uncovered throughout our reading of the Torah, it’s that Israel’s vocation, her calling—from Abraham onward—is to carry God’s promise of blessing for the nations to its completion.  The story of Israel is not primarily about laws and obscure regulation; it is primarily about the Lord setting aside a peculiar people to fulfill His promises to the world.

Random Reflections, Deuteronomy 16-17

            Deuteronomy 16-17 is another of those passages that covers several topics, and it has led me to these three reflections about Passover, justice, and kingship.

            First, there is this curious little phrase associate with the unleavened bread of Passover—bread of affliction.  I didn’t study it extensively, but my concordance tells me that this is the only place this particular form of the phrase occurs.  When we were in Exodus and bumped into unleavened bread the first time, I explained that bread with yeast appears to ‘bloat’ so there was some sense in which yeast was associated with decay.  That makes good sense of, say, 1 Corinthians 5:7-8, in which yeast is associated with malice and wickedness.  Here, though, we have a different image.  Now, I’m just thinking out loud, but my experience with unleavened bread is that it’s kind of tough and hard to eat.   So, perhaps there’s a second aspect to the feast of unleavened bread—“You left in a hurry, and the bread you ate on the way out was like the slavery you were leaving—tough and hard to swallow.”  It’s not a bad thing to remember what we were (look at St. Paul in Eph. 2:1 or Col. 1:21); as a matter of fact, remembering what we once were sustains our joy in what we now are.

            The second thing that stood out for me today was 16:19-20:  “You shall not pervert justice.  You shall not show partiality, and you shall not accept a bribe, for a bribe blinds the eyes of the wise and subverts the cause of the righteous.  Justice, and only justice, you shall follow.”  This call for impartial justice, to set things right according to the values of the Lord, is sharpened in 17:6, which declares that you need at least two witnesses.  It is sharpened even more by 17:7, namely, the witness has to be the first to throw a stone in punishment.  It’s one thing to work behind the scenes, to slander and besmirch, another; it’s a whole other thing to be the instrument of punishment.  It would take a pretty cold person to take part in the execution of another if one had exaggerated or made up one’s testimony against that person!

            Finally, I was struck by the fact that the Lord gave them permission to set up a king—like the other nations.  After all, in 1 Samuel, when they actually ask for a king, the Lord takes it as rejection of His reign (1 Sam. 8:7).  So, then, why does the Lord give them permission beforehand?  Perhaps it’s like parents and teenagers:  we know they’re going to make choices of which we don’t approve, but if we see it coming we can we can maybe mitigate the damage they do.  Imagine the conversation, “You want a tattoo?  Well, you’re 18; I can’t legally stop you, but maybe I can influence where you get it and how big it is . . .”  Or, “I can’t completely restrict the music that you’re listening to, but maybe I can keep you from embracing the worldview in those songs and keep you from listening to it so loud that you hurt your ears.”  It does seem an odd thing that the Lord would allow something He wasn’t pleased with, but I suppose that’s the price of human will:  He can’t make us act appropriately without destroying what He made us.  So, He says, “You’re probably going to want a king; make sure he’s one of you and that he follows my laws, ok?”

Principles in Moses' Law

            Deuteronomy 15-16 are good examples of the way that great principles underlie the Law of Moses.  Very often, the specifics of the Sinaitic regulations seem downright random, but here we have some pointers of meaning.  For example, Deuteronomy 14:1-2 at least offer this insight into the dietary regulations:  “You are sons of God, His treasured possession.”  Now this doesn’t really offer much insight into why the animals listed in vv. 3-20 are considered ‘abominations,’ but it does at least let us see that Israel’s distinctive diet was connected to their call to be God’s ‘peculiar’ people.  (We might sniff out some of the reasons that these animals are ‘abominable.’  The distinction in animals is especially about those that ‘cross type,’ that is, they look like one thing but act like another.  Fish with scales and fins are fish; everything else looks like a bottom-feeder.  The birds on the list are largely raptors and carrion-eaters.)  So Israel’s unique devotion to the Lord is reflected in their unique diet.

            A second principle underlying Moses’ law is the notion of trust.  First-fruit offerings, first-born animals, and tithes are given to the Lord.  Why?  Because the Lord provides.  The notion of a first-fruit tithe is a declaration, “The Lord gave the first portion; He will give more.”

            Third, merciful justice underlies the Law.  Regulations follow about the length of loans and the proper way to lend.  This includes regulation about lending to the poor, even when the Sabbath year is near:  mercy entails making the loan; justice means that the loan can’t be given to dominate the poor.  Indeed, even those who enter into servitude aren’t kept forever; they are released in the seventh year, too.  Now, this is all pretty out of step with modern economic realities.  Our economic system is based on the idea of expanding capital through the use of interest:  I place my money in the bank, letting them use it.  They loan it to an entity for interest.  I get some of that interest back as a return on my investment.  Growth of capital is huge in our system.  The good news is that no one expects that modern economies will function on the basis of Deuteronomic principles (see Thursday’s post).  But there is application here:  using our personal resources for merciful justice, understanding the bondage that too much debt can cause us, and investing wisely—avoiding banks or corporation with a reputation for predatory behavior and encouraging, through our investment, merciful justice, as well.

Blessing and Curse

            If, as I have maintained, we have to be very careful to listen to Deuteronomy as a restatement of the Sinaitic covenant, if the notion of blessing and curse based on obedience needs to be heard as particular to the nation of Israel, which ceases to exist for God’s purposes once Jesus appears, then a reasonable question is, “What does this have to do with me?”

            The answer is a little complex.  The first part of the answer is that Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel.  So, Jesus is the one who does everything that Israel was supposed to have done.  We can summarize that by saying that Jesus loves the Lord, His God, with all His heart, soul, and mind.  We get hints at this obedience when Jesus keeps the specifics of the Sinaitic law:  He is circumcised, Mary undergoes purification, Jesus attends Passover regularly, He is in Sabbath every week; He pays a temple tax. 

            On the other hand, the curse for disobedience falls most fully on Him.  Consider that when the Lord’s patience with national Israel is exhausted, He exiles them.  However, there is always the remnant that will return or re-blossom.  In Jesus’ case, the curse is final and ultimate—forsakenness and death.

            So, the first answer to the question, “What does this mean for me?” is that these covenantal passages help us understand Jesus.

            After Jesus, we need to generalize the covenant with Moses.  That is, we need to translate it into New Testament categories.  God still has a peculiar people (1 Peter 2:9; KJV).   Like Israel of old, God’s NT people are called by His grace.  Like Israel of old, they are called to a peculiar lifestyle.  Like Israel of old, they are called as a community.  And, insofar as the blessing and the curse apply, they apply christologically and eschatologically.  That means that those who are found in Christ at the last judgment receive the eternal blessing; those who are not found in Christ will not.  There’s a lot more to be said; post comments if you’d like to work through specifics.

That's Appropriate

            I thought today’s reading was really appropriate for Ash Wednesday.  Check out these verses:

“Do not say in your heart, after the LORD your God has thrust them out before you, ‘It is because of my righteousness that the LORD has brought me in to possess this land,’ whereas it is because of the wickedness of these nations that the LORD is driving them out before you.  Not because of your righteousness or the uprightness of your heart are you going in to possess their land, but because of the wickedness of these nations the LORD your God is driving them out from before you, and that he may confirm the word that the LORD swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob (Deuteronomy 9:4-5; ESV).

Notice how Israel is not supposed to presume on their own righteousness.  Moses is clear, “You are not the reason that God is giving you the land.”  Then he lays out for them just how their righteousness has failed—rebellion after rebellion, culminating (at least in ch. 9) in the golden calf incident.

            Look, Moses is clear:  the Canaanites are wicked, and they’re being dispossessed because they are wicked . . . but so is Israel!

            So, why is this appropriate for Ash Wednesday?  Because Christians can stand the reminder that they are not better than other people.  Ephesians 2 says it about as well as it can be said, “It is by grace you are saved through faith not by works so that no one can boast.”  Like Israel, Christians are also sinners—part of God’s problem, and a day of repentance calls our attention to that fact.

            Of course, the flip side of a day of repentance (see my devotions this morning . . .) is that today is also a day of forgiveness, a day to be refreshed in the knowledge that God does not leave us in our sins, but freely gives His son for our salvation.

Those Poor Canaannites

            I am sorry about my hiatus.  I was travelling, and I just didn’t have the time to write.  My reflections today, though, are still about yesterday’s reading—Deuteronomy 7.  I suspect a lot of folks who read that yesterday were troubled with thought that will trouble us for a while—at least through the book of Joshua.  Those thoughts regard the complete destruction of the Canaanites.  Isn’t this just the kind of thing that leads people to judge the Old Testament all full of wrath and unexplainable brutality?  Let me suggest that this is a clear case in which we need to read the text not on 21^st century terms, but on Ancient Near Eastern terms—scratch that, we need to read it in terms of the overall biblical story.

            It seems to me that one of the first things we have to have clearly in mind, if we are to understand the destruction of the Canaanites, is where we stand in the story of God’s redemption of the world.  We are some 600 years after the Lord made Abraham’s family the trustee of that promise and some 1400-1500 years before it will come to fruition in Jesus.  Because we are in a place where the promise has not yet been fulfilled, and because we are dealing with the people through whom it will be fulfilled, we also have to see how important it is that the Lord keep Israel in the right kind of conditions to safeguard the promise that they bear.

            The Lord is fully aware that Israel is not a perfect custodian for His promises.  He’s been paying attention since Genesis 12:  He knows that Abraham, Jacob, and the people in the wilderness are susceptible to temptation.  And He knows that Israel in her new land, surrounded by that land’s idolatrous, and seemingly successful, occupants, will be under constant pressure to ‘succeed’ using the same techniques by which the natives have succeeded, namely, idol worship.  (I talked about his in Bible study a few weeks ago, how in the ancient mind idolatry is not so neatly religion, a separate category of life.  Instead, in the ancient mind idolatry is almost a form of technology:  it’s by these religious practices that we have an impact on the fertility of the world around us.)  Anyhow, the point is:  the Canaanites with their idols are going to be a temptation to Israel, and God needs Israel focused on Him so that He can bring His promise forth from their midst.  So, the Canaanites have to go.

            A second thing to take account of is the reality of judgment.  We appropriately cling to God’s grace—“The Lord, the Lord! Gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in loving-kindness” (Ex. 34:6, etc.).  But the fact is that the Lord proclaims both the Law, that is, a word of punishment, and the Gospel, that is, His word of forgiveness.  Like Egypt before them, the Canaanites remind us that not all come to reliance on Israel’s God.  Like Egypt, like Babylon later on, the Canaanites reminds us that God has enemies, enemies who are in collusion with the Enemy.  And he will punish those who are opposed to Him.

            Admittedly, this throws us right into the deep end of the theological pool.  If God desires all to be saved (1 Tim. 2:4), how can some then be named His enemies?  Or worse, if God desires all to be saved, and rescues us, who were once numbered among enemies (Col 1:21), why does He not so rescue all His enemies?  Is God not earnest or is God not capable?  No wonder guys in my field call this the crux theologorum, the theologian’s cross!  We’ll never solve the tension between God’s earnest intentions and the recalcitrance of humanity, so the best we can do is take Him at His word about His intentions, declare those gracious intentions to the world, and let Him worry about how it all works out.

            I do know this:  it’s not terribly satisfying to say to the Lord, “I don’t get it, but you’re in charge.”  (I didn’t like saying that to my parents when I was a child, I don’t like it now with my God.)  But I also know that trying to make God fit your theological presuppositions means that you know longer have a God worthy of being called God.  If you domesticate God with your own presuppositions, you have created a false God, which unfortunately puts you closer to the Canaanites than is comfortable.  So, let God be God, take Him at His Word, and work earnestly to that those who are His enemies would come to faith and become His children.

Israel's Ancient Confession

            Israel’s ancient confession of faith declares, “Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God—the Lord is one.”  Contemporary Christians tend to hear the declaration of God’s oneness as a statement of monotheism, which it certainly is:  there is only one God, who reveals Himself as a Trinity—three (‘tri-’) in unity (‘-inity’)  Jewish reflection, of course, has disagreed with Christian trinitarianism and has used Deuteronomy 6:4 as an argument against it, especially against the doctrine that Jesus is the Son of God.

            Be that as it may, there is more going on here.  The declaration, “The Lord is one,” is not just about monotheism or polytheism.  It also includes the notion of the absolute uniqueness of Israel’s God’s.  (One of my old professors who had spent much of his life in Australia had picked up some British turns-of-phrase, and he used to translate the phrase, “He’s such a one!”)  It was just 2 chapters ago that Moses had spoken about the absolute uniqueness of their God, who is nearby and powerful and talks to His people with such commandments.

            A couple of things come out of that absolute uniqueness.  The first is captured in the command of 6:4—“Hear!”  God speaks; His people listen.  Their entire life grows out of the words that He says.  He declares them His treasured possession.  He constitutes them as a holy nation.  He orders their life according to His command.  Listening to those words generates two responses.  First, it generates what we call faith:  complete trust in the singular God.  Moses describes it as the complete devotion of the heart, soul, and might to the Lord.  Second, it generates obedience to those commands.  So, Moses exhorts, “Take care, lest you forget” (6:12)!

            And that devotion and obedience sets the agenda for life.  This faith in this unique God is to be passed on to one’s children.  It is to saturate one’s life so that it’s on the doorpost (so that you see it coming and going) and on your hands (so that you see it no matter what you’re doing) and on your head (so that it’s always in mind).  No one likes a fanatic.  Winston Churchill once said, “A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject.”  But a little fanaticism is exactly what’s called for here.  Too often contemporary Christians compartmentalize their faith and only attend to it for that hour or two that we are at church each week.  But Deuteronomy 6 would remind us that we are Christians not just at church, but at home and at work.  Frankly, the way that we carry our Christianity and the words of the Lord into our homes and into our workplaces may be even more important because those are the settings in which we serve as witnesses to the absolute uniqueness of our God who saves us through Jesus.

Keep Your Covenants Straight

            Deuteronomy 5 presents a challenge right out of the blocks.  In verse 3, Moses says that the lord did not make a covenant with the fathers but with the current generation.  But, wait, didn’t the original exodus generation die in the wilderness because of their refusal to take the land?  Isn’t this an entirely new generation, save Joshua and Caleb?  What gives?

            It would seem that the fathers in question are the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  God did not make this covenant with them.  Instead he made a different sort of covenant with Israel as constituted at Sinai.

            This is an important thing to understand in terms of ‘getting’ Israel through much of the Old Testament.  There is a fundamental difference between the covenant made with Abraham and the one that constituted Israel as nation.  Paul makes this distinction in Galatians 3:  the covenant with Abraham predates the covenant of Sinai by 400 years.  The covenant with Abraham is a covenant of promise for all humanity.  The covenant at Sinai is for Israel and it is contingent and conditional.  If Israel, as nation, is faithful, the Lord will keep her in her land.  If she’s not, she’ll go into exile. 

            Now there are principles in the Sinai legislation that carry through to the New Testament church.  After all, underlying much of the social legislation was a desire for mercy, peace, and justice.  So, even if the specifics don’t apply universally, we can see indicators of underlying universal principles.

            The take-away for us is that in the coming chapters, there will be lots of ‘ifs,’ lots of contingencies, and lots of calls for obedience.  It’s important that we hear them as Paul hears them.  We are not under the covenant of Sinai; that covenant fulfilled its purpose with the coming of Jesus.  We are under the covenant with Abraham, the covenant that predates Moses and lasts to the new creation.  While we want to pay attention to those New Testament passages that warn us about walking out of step with the Spirit (Eph. 4:30), we also don’t want to think that somehow salvation is contingent on being ‘good enough.’  Salvation is contingent only on God’s promise, “I will bless all peoples through you,” and it’s fulfillment in Jesus.

What a God!

            Moses’ exhortation to the Israelites to be faithful needs to be heard with Moses’ main theme in the background:  “Who has a God like ours?”  Answer:  Nobody!  Who has a God who is so close to them?  Answer:  No one!  (Remember how Elijah mocked the prophets of Baal?  “Maybe he’s asleep; maybe he’s traveling; maybe he’s in the bathroom!”  But the Lord answered Elijah in the moment he asked.)  Who has a God who speaks out of fire and snatches one people from another?  You guessed it:  no one!  Furthermore, the God of Israel is the God who created man upon the earth.  Who else claims that?

            Against that backdrop, Moses calls for faithfulness:  don’t get yourself wrapped up in idol worship.  Don’t follow gods who are less than the God who called you.  Don’t abandon the One who is so absolutely unique for gods who aren’t really gods at all.  Perhaps most importantly, don’t abandon the God who has so loved you to place Himself in your midst and to rescue from the hand of the Egyptians.

            In New Testament terms, I reminded of 1 John 3:1, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are (NIV)”!  The NIV’s translation is a little free, but it captures the heart of it.  God hasn’t loved us just a little; He has loved us to the death of His Son.  It’s that free and generous gift that produces the kind of faith and love that honors the God who so loved us.

Goals and Process

            There’s a certain poignancy at the end of Deuteronomy 3 that I don’t know I’ve noticed before.  The Lord had told Moses, “No promised land for you,” and that seemed to me to be the end of the story.  But Deuteronomy 3 shows that Moses really wanted to enter the land, pleading with the Lord to let Him see it and walk in it and experience it.  The Lord’s answer was a little harsh, “That’s enough out of you!”

            I think of people who give themselves in a cause and don’t quite see it to conclusion:  generals who win the war but not the peace; leaders who muscle through crises but don’t enjoy the success on the other side.

            Examples, we need examples.  I think of General Motors.  I’m no insider, but I kind of liked former CEO Rick Wagoner.  The things I read made him seem like a man who was pushing hard for the kind of changes that needed to be made for the corporation to succeed.  GM posted a profit last year for the first time in a long time, and you can argue that that happened because they went through a controversial bankruptcy.  You could also argue that the products that are bringing them back to profitability were in the works because of Wagoner’s leadership.  But he was shown the door before his efforts bore fruit.

            This next one is fictional, but I think it holds up.  At the end of The Lord of the Rings (the book, not the movie), Frodo, the hero, finds himself so deeply wounded by having carried the burden of the Ring that he can’t enjoy the peaceful resolution in the comfort of his newly freed and restored homeland.  It falls to his successor, Sam, to enjoy the results of their work.

            Now, in Moses’ case, the poignancy is even greater for two reasons.  First, he had been faithfully laboring for the Lord’s purposes for 40 years.  It sure seems that one little mistake is all it took to cost him his shot at happiness.  Second, he prays a prayer that is denied right then and there:  “You will not cross over.”  That’s hard.

            Sometimes the reward has to be in the journey, not the arrival.  Not every prayer is answered like we’d like.  I wish I had the kind of faith that was content to follow the Lord without the longing to accomplish something, to enjoy His presence and His service without wondering when the blessing would come.  It’s tough to be a goal-oriented guy with a process-oriented God.

A Faithful God

            Deuteronomy 2 is a lesson in God’s faithfulness.  The Lord pulls no punches:  he was angry with the generation that came out of Egypt because of their refusal to enter the land He had promised, and His hand was against them (v. 15).  On the other hand, the Lord blessed Israel sufficiently in the wilderness that she was able to buy food from Edom and Moab (v. 7), and He gave her victory over King Sihon of Heshbon (v. 36).  I suppose none of that is terribly insightful.  The Lord is supposed to faithfully watch over Israel.  She’s His treasured possession, for pity’s sake!

            What is interesting is that the Lord specifically forbids war against Edom, Moab, and Ammon.  And what is even more interesting is why He forbids it.  The Lord forbids war against Edom because Edom consists of the descendants of Esau (v.5), and He forbids war against Moab and Ammon because they are descendants of Lot (vv.9, 19).  Esau was the son of Isaac who was not the child of promise.  Even apart from the younger son Jacob’s shenanigans to get his hands on the birthright, the Lord had said that the older would serve the younger (Gen. 25:23).  But the Lord recognizes Esau as a part of Abraham’s family and will not let Moses make war against him (even though that incident was more than 450 years in the past.)  Likewise, Lot was Abraham’s nephew.  He came with Abraham to the promised land, but made several bad choices—mostly in regard to living in Sodom.  Still, the Lord recognized him as part of the Abraham’s family (even these 600 years later).

            The Lord’s faithfulness is not just to Israel, as Israel.  His faithfulness is to Israel as the one through whom He would bless the nations.  As we come to stories in the Scriptures in which Israel is told to exterminate the Canaan populations, it is important to keep this larger picture in mind.  God’s purpose is the restoration of all mankind.  In some instances that means protecting Israel from the dangers posed by the false gods of the Canaanites.  In other instances it means demonstrating the length of His memory in regard to those who were or will become (Gal. 3:7) relatives of Abraham.