Psalm 19: 13-14 Above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins; let them not get dominion over me; then shall I be whole and sound, and innocent of a great offense. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O God, my strength and my redeemer.

Introduction

On Lent one, our focus was on the world and its tumult. On Lent two, we turned our attention toward our own nation and its chaos. But all of that, while important, still feels a bit out of reach. Like I mentioned last week, it is easy to blind ourselves to our local problems by focusing more broadly beyond where we live. It is easy to ignore national chaos because of global tumult. And it is easy to forego attention to local turmoil, by focusing on national chaos. Again, it’s worth mentioning that giving some attention to global and national crises and unrest is a good thing. But we cannot lose sight of the fact that large problems start small; the problems we see in the world and in our nation start in our immediate surroundings. Our local communities are fractals of the globe; the problems of the globe are also present in our local communities.

Our communities are as bogged down by deep divides infecting our nation and world. Bumper stickers tell you whose side everyone is on, as well as personal yard signs and church marquees. There are a few spots here on Broadway where I’m certain two houses across the street from each other are intentionally bating the other. “Us v. Them” is a plague locally—as it is nationally and globally. It’s hard to know who to trust, and we vet each other strictly; if there’s one lapse in overlap, there’s no solidarity. Schools are being shut down and religious institutions are closing for lack of being chosen; houses are hard to buy, and so is food for many in our local populations. Neighbors barely know neighbors, or, rather, barely want to get to know neighbors (remember “block parties”?). We are individual units yoked together by a shared street name. Unity seems to be breaking down more and more and faster and faster as invisible segregation lines are drawn between rich and poor, housed and unhoused, fed and unfed, abled and differently abled, young and old.

At times it all feels so pointless. How can I even begin to chip away at barriers when I don’t have the energy to take down my own? It’s easier to be blind to my neighbor and their lives. I want to close my blinds and forget the issues of my local environment. I’m growing weary of repeating the same message…I can only preach to the choir so often before the choir grows tired, bored, and leaves. How many more attempted relationships at solidarity will fall to the ground because of unachievable expectations of a perfect fit? How long before I run out of gas and quit? It’s demoralizing trying to fill in trenches falsely separating humans from humans only to have them dug again. There’s a pit in my stomach that yells and screams: Go back! Run back to what was! Go back to that shore that was once comfort! Go back to not knowing, go back to when it was easier, go back to when things were better…I don’t care where, just go back to where it’s safe to just live…

Human beings have a hard time fighting against this lure and seduction of the romanticized past; the more we fight the more stuck we become. We are buried in the past, captive to what was.

Exodus 20:1-17

Then God spoke all these words:

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.

In our First Testament passage we witness Israel receiving (directly) God’s Ten Commandments, or, rather, God’s “Ten Words” or “Ten Statements.”[1] The “Ten Words” arrives midway in the story of Israel’s release from Egypt and their journey toward something new. Chapter 15 marks the end of the old life of slavery and captivity and the beginning of Israel’s new life as liberated disciples of God. In chapter 16, the people grumble. It’s been (about) a week since witnessing the great event of water tearing itself apart (once again!) to create a new life of liberation and love on the other side of the Sea of Reeds; a week since “And when Israel saw the wondrous power which the Lord had wielded against the Egyptians, the people feared the Lord; they had faith I n the Lord and His servant Moses,” (14:31). It doesn’t take much to send the people back toward their old disposition, “The Israelites said to [Moses and Aaron], ‘If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots, when we ate our fill of bread! For you have brought us out into this wilderness to starve this whole congregation to death,’” (16:3). How quickly the past lures and beckons, how quickly old captivity and its pain is forgotten.

In response to the hunger, God gives them quail (in the morning) and manna (at night) (16:13ff). And then in chapter 17 there is more traveling and more grumbling, this time about water (17:1ff). Here Moses strikes a rock and water flows (17:6-7). In chapter 18, Moses elects a council of men to help him administratively lead the people. Then in chapter 19, which seems to be about 3 months (3 new moons, v. 1), the people of God find themselves at the base of Mount Sinai, where Israel’s most defining moment with God occurs.[2] It’s here at Sinai where Moses goes up to commune with God and then bring a message back down to the people. In chapter 20, Moses brings these “Ten Words” of God to God’s people Israel. It’s these “Ten Words” that will forever define and delineate Israel’s new relationship with God.[3] Most principally, “you shall have no other Gods before me,” not yourselves and not the past. Israel shall always keep God front and center and by doing this, they keep the neighbor in their sights, too.

Through the “Ten Words,” Israel is beckoned forward unto God.” This is the Law of God; this isn’t just any law but one elevated and sanctified. These “Ten Words” are the very thing that will shape, grow, and orient Israel in the world toward their divine Creator and King[4] and toward the well-being of their neighbor in ethical praxis.[5] They will shape, and grow, and orient Israel toward God and the neighbor for all generations, in all eras, no matter where they find themselves. These “Ten Words” anchor Israel not in the world as static and stuck, but in God who is dynamic and on the move. Israel is not to go backward to Egypt to find their comfort and safety, this would be to worship other gods thus fracturing all “Ten Words.” Rather, they are called to go forward to follow God who is the God who liberated them from captivity so they can be free to follow God and God free to lead them through the days and nights of faith and love to new and abundant life.

Conclusion

God is not stuck in the past; God is not captive to what was. God summons and coaxes forward God’s beloved—all creation, from the teensiest, weensiest critter to the biggest, ziggest beast; from the ones that live deep in the oceanic abyss to the ones residing on the peakiest of mountains. God woos the beloved forward, into something NEW, into something new and of God because backward is the stuff of humanity that has long ago expired, gone sour, become septic. Liberation for Israel is not a liberation to go backward, which is a return to captivity. Rather, Israel is liberated to step forward into the unknown, dared to fall into the void of faith and God, knowing that their path will be illuminated—step by step—by the presence of God by the divine fire and cloud and formed by the “Ten Words.” With these “Ten Words,” Israel knows—yesterday, today, and tomorrow—how to walk on into God and with the neighbor.

For us, in our situation, looking around at our local situations, looking at the isolation, alienation, loneliness, lack of solidarity, the barriers, and the existential fatigue and exhaustion, we who follow Christ follow a new and different way of God. A way dedicated to and informed by these shared ancient “Ten Words” given to Israel. Through these sacred “Ten Words,” we are exhorted to be bold, to dare to love through barriers, to reach out, to keep trying, to stand up after we fall, and have the audacity not to be intimidated by the local narratives wishing to silence by means of fear and anger. However, we cannot do so if we are dead set on going backward, desperately clinging to our comforts and ease. We must let faith lead us down into the darkness, into the impossible so that God may bear through us God’s divine possibility. We, like Israel, must walk with God by cloud and pillar of fire, step by step.

Beloved, God calls, may our ears perk up. God comforts, may our souls be soothed. God speaks, may our ears delight in comforting words. God comes, may we run to Abba God. God is doing a new thing in this man from Nazareth, Jesus, the beloved, in whom, by whom, and through whom we are being coaxed forward, released from the past and liberated from what was…

---

[1] Jeffrey H. Tigay “Exodus” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation. Eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: OUP, 2004. 148. Ex. 20.1-14. “(‘Decalogue,’ form the Latin for ‘ten words,’ or ‘ten statements,’ is a more. Literal rendition of Heb than ‘Then Commandments.’) They are addressed directly to the people. No punishments are stated; obedience is motivated not by fear of punishment but by God’s absolute authority and the people’s desire to live in accordance with His will.”

[2] Tigay, “Exodus,” JPS, 145.

[3] Tigay, “Exodus,” JPS, 145-147.

[4] Tigay, “Exodus” JPS, 148. “Implicit in this biblical view is that God is Israel’s king, hence its legislator.”

[5] Tigay, “Exodus” JPS, 148. “The items in the Decalogue are arranged in two groups. Duties to God come first. Each commandment in this group contains the phrase, ‘the Lord your God.’ The second group contains duties toward fellow humans, which are depicted as being of equal concern to God.”