A heart to understand -some more thoughts on Deuteronomy

“But until today the Lord has not given you a heart

to understand , eyes to see, ears to hear…”

–Deuteronomy 29:3

This Sunday we are having a reading from Deuteronomy, and it has given me a pause to think more about this book that I suspect is seldom read all the way through.  This Sunday at mass we will hear Moses speak of the new prophet God is sending (18:15-20).  In answer to their prayers and their fears, God is promising a new prophet (like Moses) who will speak to the people for God. Moses seems to be referring to Joshua --who will take his place leading God's people-- but this reference may also be seen Christologically as a reference to Jesus. But in the context of Deuteronomy, it begs the question: why do the people need a human leader if they have God? And the Deuteronomical answer seems to be: Because God is too much. They have seen His terrible fire and heard His fearful voice from the mountain, and they want an interlocutor. Someone to stand between them and God and speak to them for God (for their own protection).  Fearing for their lives, they have even prayed God will spare them His presence:

“Never let me hear the voice of the Lord my God

or see His great fire again, or I shall die” (18:16).

But why? According to the story, God has just guided (or driven) His people through the desert wilderness for 40 years, protecting them, miraculously providing food and water (even from a rock) and yet they are afraid of Him. Because –they seem to sense—that even now their eyes are not ready for such a vision and their ears unprepared for such a voice.  They need something a little less awesome, something/someone a little more familiar; Moses is about to die and they are afraid to be left alone with God. That is the kind of writing that interests me. If this were fiction, we would be astonished at the imaginative power of such a writer.  But, we maintain that it is not fiction; it is (on some historical, spiritual, theological level) the absolute truth.  Wow.  What an odd book.

And here I am thinking about it on a Saturday morning as I finish my cold coffee and last crust of burnt toast, and wondering myself whether I yet have eyes to see or hears to hear, a heart to understand.

This question of the eyes and the ears and the heart, it fascinates me.  It seems, on one level, as Moses hands the people off to Joshua, that he is saying to them: you weren’t ready before, because “until today” you didn’t have the ears or eyes or heart, but now…  And that made me wonder what Moses might be referring to. What is it that possibly has changed that might make the people better prepared for the presence of God?  And it occurred to me, what is this whole book about: the law. God’s law.

Is it possible that God is saying that with the law we have eyes to see, ears to hear, a heart to understand, but without it we are blind, deaf and ignorant?  That the reason the law is so important to God and His prophets is that it is through the law that our eyes and ears will be opened.  This vision of the law – not as something restrictive, imposing burdens on us, but as a gift to help us prepare for the presence of God; as a kind of practice or exercise to get us in shape for that big day when we stand before Him. That is how I have come to see God’s law. I think that is what I am learning from reading these texts and listening to their fearful and glorious message.  

There is another interesting passage in chapter 29 that might support this idea.  Speaking almost like a tour guide, Moses says:

“…the nations through whom we have passed. You have seen their abominations and their idols made of wood and stone, silver and gold…” (29:15-16)

            One can almost hear him saying: Remember all those exotic people and those fascinating lands we passed through on our journey? On your right see the wooden idols, on your left please note the human sacrifice of children, and Oh –look there! See, what a perfect example of an abomination all decked out in silver and gold!

            It is as if God has taken them on this 40 year journey (in which their sandals never wore out, (cf. 29:4) as a way to educate and form them into His people and until now they were blind, until now they were unable to hear or understand, but now “today” they are graduates ready to receive their diplomas from the school of God’s journey –the school of wandering—and their diploma is the law.

            But, like many graduates, the chosen people (after 40 years, you’d think they’d have Ph.Ds) still feel anxious and unprepared for what lies ahead… "Until today" they were not ready…
            As for me, even this morning, I’m still not so sure. But I do know this –I want to keep reading.  And I want to get ready.

Fall into the hands of a loving God (reading Deuteronomy)

“And when all these words have come true

for you –the blessing and the curse…if you

return to the Lord your God, if with all your

heart and with all your soul you obey His

voice, you and your children…then the Lord

your God…will have pity on you and gather

you back from all the peoples among whom

the Lord your God has scattered you.”

--Deuteronomy 30:1-3

            People of faith (especially Catholics) often joke about not reading the Bible, particularly books like Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy, books that include long lists of laws, statutes and regulations instead of stories and heroes and pizzazz. We imagine the writing of these books will be incredibly dry and we fear the God we imagine it presents: a God who is all rules and obedience (all stick and no carrot, one might say).  But what has amazed me again and again as I read through the Pentateuch is: 1. how fascinating these ancient books are, & 2. how tender and loving the Lord God appears; already an image that will find its perfect reflection (and embodiment) in His Son.

            Scholars speculate that Deuteronomy was written during the reign of King Hezekiah (c 715-686 BCE), possibly 800 years after the events described.  Because Hezekiah was concerned with correct worship, ridding Jerusalem of idols and idolatrous practices, and renewing the commitment to the one true God, it would make sense that he would want these stories and prohibitions and traditions written down in a text to support his efforts. A king engaging a scholar to gather and transcribe the words of Moses as a means of putting those laws together in one book, that seems a reasonable theory of how Deuteronomy may have come to be written down.  The Hebrew tradition even refers to what the Christian Bible call Deuteronomy (Greek for Second Law) as the Words (i.e. the words of Moses –from the opening line of the book). It is made up of three discourses attributed to Moses. They are lengthy exhortations to the people that first remind them of where they have come from and what they have gone through, then exhort them to keep faith with God and to observe His laws that they may always find favor with the Lord.  But the book has another note, an undertone of woe. Moses seems pretty certain that the people will not stay true to God. Reflecting on his impending death, Moses bluntly declares: “I know that after my death you are certain to grow corrupt; you will leave the way I have marked out for you; disaster will befall you for doing what is evil in the eyes of the Lord…” 31:29

            So, yes. There is a lot of talk of rules, fascinating and confusing and sometimes arcane rules, but then there is the strangely, profoundly, sorrowfully painful sense that the author (whether Moses or some 8^th century priestly scribe) understood the frailty of man, and the allure of sin. But, lingering behind all of this is a tenderness on the part of God (as depicted by either Moses or said 8^th century scribe) that inspires me, and comforts me, and demands of me renewal and commitment, mercy and hope.

            Clearly the God depicted here is not some cold distant angry vengeful God, it is a glimpse of the God who would become enfleshed in 1^st century Bethlehem, who would grow up in 1^st century Nazareth, and who would die on a cross for our sins in 1^st century Jerusalem.

            And what do I offer to support this thesis? The pity God has on His people. Here at the end, after all the rules and all the laws and all the threats, what does Moses tell the people? He tells this: Even after you sin, even after you reject God, even after you are scattered across the face of the earth, the Lord your God “will have pity on you and gather you back…”  That is a hopeful promise, a hopeful assurance. Though the people turn from God, Moses concludes his final discourse by holding out an offer of redemption.

           

God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that we might live (cf. Jn 3:16).

And that promise found in the midst of all that law and regulation, that assurance, is strikingly familiar for those who know the Gospels.  It resonates with the promise of the one who came not to destroy the law, but to fulfill it (cf. Mt. 5:17). Moses doesn’t ever let the people off the hook. He tells them: this is the way to live as God’s people, but when you fail (and you will) don’t lose hope. Return to God who longs to gather you as a mother hen gathers her chicks (cf. Mt. 23:37).  

Think of God’s love like gravity; it draws us to Him. If we deny it, if we ignore it, if we pretend we don’t have to accept it we are doomed. There was a wonderful Louis Malle movie in 1980 called: Atlantic City. In it a young woman on an airplane is reminded by the stewardess to put on her seatbelt. To which the young woman responds, “Oh, I don’t believe in gravity.” Think about that. If the airplane hits turbulence or suddenly loses altitude, will her feelings about gravity really matter?  God’s love draws us to Him, and sin is simply turning away from that love; pretending it doesn’t exist; living like we don’t believe in it.  Moses warns the people: don’t turn away from God’s love; don’t pretend it isn’t real. You won’t like the consequences.

I think what I have learned from reading Dante, and now Deuteronomy is this: God’s judgment (whatever that means and however it looks) is just one more sign of his eternal and endless love. God’s judgment is always and everywhere simply His outstretched hand; if we accept it, it is a blessing; but when we reject it, for whatever reason, we make it a curse. And we make of ourselves something less than who (or what) we were meant to be. 

As it says in Deuteronomy: God has set before us this day a blessing and curse (cf. 11:26).

To misquote Hebrews (and Jonathan Edwards): It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a loving God (cf. Hebrews 10:31).

Deuteronomy 28: Would a loving God fasten a plague upon us?

“The Lord will fasten the plague on you,

until it has exterminated you from the country

which you are about to enter and make your own.”

--Deuteronomy 28: 21

There is a tendency to think of the Old Testament God as a God of judgment, harsh and demanding.  But, if the Bible is the Word of God and if Jesus came "not to abolish the law, but fulfill it" (cf. Mt 5: 17), then (for me) that puts the Old Testament God (Yahweh) in a different light.  If Jesus is the fulfillment of the law, then there is much more to the "law" than blind obedience and harsh judgment. So... what are we to do with a reading like this? Even a whole book like Deuteronomy?  A book that seems obsessed with laws and obedience and punishment. For me, my first step is to consider (when reading scripture) what part of it troubles me.  And in this particular passage, it is that phrase "fasten the plague on you..."That word “fasten” troubles me. And that means it also interests me. I want to think about it; mull it over; see where it takes me.

            Reading through Deuteronomy there is a lot of talk about laws and commandments that God requires His people to fulfill and uphold.  But here in chapters 27 and 28 we start getting some clear and almost nightmarish statements about what happens if they don’t.  In this chapter we have one of the most horrifying visions in the Bible; a vision of parents eating the flesh of their own children (cf. 28:53ff):

“…you will eat the offspring of your own body… the gentlest and tenderest of your men will scowl at his brother and at his wife… not willing to give any of them any of his own children’s flesh, which he is eating…”

The vision of this terrible hunger comes in a warning.  It is part of a curse that is threatened to befall God’s people if they don’t keep and observe His commandments and laws.  The brutality of it, the immensity of it, overwhelms me. This image of a father, even a gentle or tender one,  eating his own children and eating them so selfishly that he will eye his brother and beloved wife suspiciously --like an animal guarding his kill.  What could have prompted the author to have written this? What could have prompted God to have threatened it? How can such a fate be just? How can it be deserved?  How can it be the judgment of a loving and merciful God? Why would God threaten to "fasten" it upon His people if they do not follow and obey Him.

            Scholars may speculate that this prophecy of a curse was possibly written after the fact and reflects some actual catastrophe that befell the Jews (or that they witnessed) –a siege and horrible time of starvation.  But, taken on its own terms, how does this prophecy reflect the God (and the laws) fulfilled in Christ?  Are we to believe that a loving God fastens such punishments on His beloved people?  Is that how Love acted when it came to earth and took flesh and dwelt among us?

            So then, I ask myself (and the text) regardless of what the original scribe intended, what do you reveal about the God who became man and died on a cross for my sins? How is this “curse” a sign of God's love.  And to me, it seems that it can only be a sign of love if we look at it not as something God imposes or threatens, but as dire consequences God is warning us against. What if, instead of reading this as a threat of something God will do to us, we read it is a warning about the "natural" consequences of sin?  When we turn from God we risk becoming beasts capable of eating our own children.  What if God is telling us, fasten yourself to Me, follow My laws, obey My commands and you will become more fully the creatures you were made to be?  But turn away and you will become fastened instead to exploitation, plunder, selfishness, war, famine, blindness and cruelty --even cruelty toward those you should love (even your own children). If we turn away from God, we risk becoming blind beasts who devour our progeny and beg to be enslaved by our captors, our tormentors (our sin). Turn away from God and we will find ourselves begging to become the slaves of prosperity, technology, pleasure and comfort, selfishness and sin. Sound familiar?

           As the commercial used to say:  Calgon –take me away. 

Rise up in Splendor O Jerusalem -some thoughts on the Epiphany

“Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! Your light has come,

the glory of the Lord shines upon you. See, darkness

covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples; but

upon you the Lord shines… Nations shall walk by your

light… raise your eyes and look about; they all gather

and come to you…”   Isaiah 60:1-6

Rise up in splendor, O Jerusalem!  Darkness covers the earth, thick clouds blind the people. They need a great light.  Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem.  Be that light.  Become that light. Raise your eyes and look about… the world walks in darkness.  The world hungers for light.

Rise up in splendor, O Jerusalem.  The world walks in darkness and you are being called; become the light.
 How often does God put us in a dark place and ask us to be His light? My guess is it happens every day. My guess is it happens several times every day. My guess is –it never stops. But how often do we let ourselves shine?  For many of us, perhaps every single person who has ever lived, all we ever really dream of is a chance to shine; a chance to light the earth; for the people around us to see that indeed we do shine.

As a child I longed to be famous, to be glorious, to be recognized, to be chased by hundreds of beautiful girls down a London street –like the Beatles in Hard Day’s Night. That was my vision of success, of becoming a star! Of truly shining bright.  Who could question that the Beatles were stars?  But the tennis racket I strummed never got properly tuned, and luckily the broomstick I sang into never amplified my wandering vocals, and I never became a singing star (despite what I told my 4^th grade teacher). And because I never got famous, I suspected I was –instead—a failure. It was, for me, a dichotomy I couldn’t escape. I was either John Lennon, David Bowie, or Bobby Sherman, or I was a failure. (In college the dream became more literary; then it became: I was either Faulkner, Joyce and Williams or I was a failure.) But there was no middle ground. And thinking that I had tried, only made my failure worse –because then the failure seemed more real. I tried. I tried to shine, and no one noticed. No girls chased me to the train station. No Nobel committee member called me to congratulate me on my prize. Therefore, I was a failure. My light (if I even had one) was so dim, so dull no one noticed.

But is that true? And even if it were, does that matter?  God calls each one of us to Rise up in splendor. He calls us to rise up in splendor each day.  He calls us to rise up in splendor each moment of each day.  Because the world is in darkness. There is a thick cloud that covers the people.  And they need a light, even a small one.

What if you knew the light you were called to shine today was only going to be seen by one person? And they would see it, but not be sure exactly what they had seen, only that it was a light and for a moment it gave them hope, it gave them consolation, and it gave them a glimpse of something –a sign that someone else was out there. They weren’t alone.  And what if that was it?  You were going to shine a light and maybe one person would see it, and no one else would notice? You would never be the “star” you dreamed of being, but you could give one person hope; would you count that a success? And what if that one person --because of your light-- began to shine a little more, and she lit the way for 2 or 3 others –no big crowds, no Madison Square Garden, no red carpets or Transco Tower search beacons, just a small group of people who each begin to rise up and shine a little more because they saw something –a light in the darkness—that gave them hope.  Would that be enough? Would you still think yourself a failure? What if you stopped tuning that tennis racket and instead took a match to it? And then raised it high!

Rise up O Jerusalem; rise up in splendor. Rise and shine.