Obedient love
Commentary
As we move to Mount Sinai and the giving of the law we notice a change in Moses' role as leader. Until now God has used him to bring the Israelites through one difficult situation after another, in spite of their murmuring and rebellion. Now they stand before God as a people who will be responsible for their action and who will suffer the consequences when they disobey. Moses will have to stand between the people and God, mediating on their behalf. He becomes the channel through whom God will tell the people how they must live. A wandering people, who will still walk for many years in the wilderness, is beginning to take form and shape. That can only happen, however, as they accept responsibility for how they live and as they develop a life of worship.
The Ten Commandments must be set into the context of God's covenant with Israel, begun with Abraham (or, some would assert, with Noah). Thus, chapter 20 cannot be treated adequately without including consideration of chapter 19. As they come to Sinai, Moses speaks a word from God: "You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself" (19:4). Covenant is based on God's initiative, God's grace, God's protection, God's love.
But covenant calls for response: "Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do" (19:8). This response will be the basis for their transition from a motley collection of slaves to an ordered and responsible people. "(God's) people were not intended to be a crowd but a community, bound to him and to one another by a covenant bond." (Bernard W. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1957, p. 53.) If this is to happen, they must accept the discipline that the Decalogue would require.
Though the Ten Commandments resemble other more ancient codes of law, such as the Code of Hammurabi, these are for Israel and are intended to help them maintain their peculiar covenant relationship with the God of Israel. They are necessary in order that they might be protected and kept as a unique people of God. The principle of separation, which runs through the entire Bible, is fundamental to this Leviticus text. God's movement against sin, God's declaration of judgment against wrongdoing, God's stern warning -- all these are for Israel's good.
"God's wrath," writes Gerhard Frost, "is only another side of (God's) love. If God's love were not a holy love it would not be true love. If God tolerated sin, (God's) love would be destructively indulgent instead of constructive and redemptive." (Gerhard Frost, The Law Perfect," Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1961, pp. 95-96.)
Philippians 3:4b-14
Paul can lay claim to a direct line to Mount Sinai. He is a child of the people of Israel. More than that, he is from the inner circle, both by tribal descent and, more importantly, by the way he has kept the law. To understand why all of this advantage has now become disadvantage we must recall again the idea of the covenant, the heart of the relationship between God and the chosen people. Paul now sees that the covenant relationship had a goal and that it reached its fulfillment, not in the detail of the law, but in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ -- and especially the resurrection. With his conversion everything has changed for Paul.
Paul is not arguing, of course, for antinomianism, for casting the law aside as useless. Our lessons for the past several weeks from his Letter to the Romans show that Paul is deeply concerned for how the believer lives out one's life in the world. He has called for a way of discipline and good works. But such a life can get in the way of what is most central. Therefore, he is making the case for what is absolutely essential -- faith in Jesus Christ alone for salvation.
"I have suffered the loss of all things" means literally "I had all things confiscated." Like the man in the parable who sold pearls of lesser value in order to buy "the pearl of great price," Paul has seen things from their proper perspective and has re-ordered the priorities of his life.
When Paul says, "I want to know Christ," he is speaking of more than intellectual understanding. This is "knowing" in the sense of full and compete identity with Christ. Like a mate who "knows" a spouse in more than a physical sense, like a friend who is "known" as more than a companion for an outing, so Paul wants to "know" Christ in depth and in breadth. "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." To be in covenant relationship with God is to be "in Christ" -- possibly the most common phrase in the New Testament.
It is out of this relationship that one is best prepared to come back to the law, centered in the Ten Commandments, and see them in a new light. For those who "press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus," these now become sign posts along the road, guides for life in the Kingdom. No longer under the burden of having to conform as a way to be made right with God, the believer now freely and joyfully takes on the discipline of love.
Matthew 21:33-46
In this second in the series of three parables aimed at his enemies, Jesus is telling them that in the long history of God's work with them as a chosen people there has been mostly disobedience. They have failed to obey God, "the owner of the vineyard." The messengers who have been sent over the years are no doubt the prophets, faithful servants of God who tried to call them back to their senses. Now they have committed the ultimate rejection by refusing to acknowledge Jesus as the very Son of God.
The parable would have evoked some positive response from Jesus' audience. As in every generation, there is a natural dislike for absentee owners. Furthermore, since possession and ownership were linked, any who longed for their own vineyard, their own piece of property, would identify with these servants who tried, even in an underhanded way, to take possession. But no matter how appealing, they could hardly miss the point.
The narrow application of the text would be to the Jews in the immediate setting who opposed Jesus. In the course of time, it took on a broader definition. That certainly would have been in the mind of Matthew as he wrote his gospel. Not only did those directly involved with Jesus reject him, but the entire people -- the Jews -- were seen as in rebellion once more against God. Now God would let out the vineyard "to other tenants," the Gentiles.
The climactic nature of the parable is reinforced in the word Jesus spoke immediately following it. By quoting from Isaiah -- "the stone that the builders rejected" -- he is asserting that already the seal has been fixed. Though the crucifixion still is to come, by now Christ knows that there is no hope for this people. The kingdom must be "taken away from you and given to a people that produced the fruits of the kingdom."
Suggestions For Preaching
The first and third texts are pointed so directly at the chosen people of God that one could focus almost exclusively on the tragedy of the rejection of Christ by Jews. And one could accent the importance of witnessing to them in the hope that in our day they might come to see that Christ is indeed the Messiah, the Son who has come to head the kingdom.
Legitimate as those themes might be, we should remember that these texts are a prophetic word for us today. If we are "the new Israel" then the implications of covenant are as relevant for us as they were for the Hebrews at Mount Sinai and for the Jews who first heard the parable of the vineyard. God continues to call us into relationship -- a relationship of "knowing" and "loving" God in Christ.
Out of that relationship comes another call. It is the invitation to obedience and accountability. We can make the mistake of the chosen people of God -- open rejection -- or the mistake of the early Paul -- focus on behavior rather than relationship.
Ephesians 2:8-10 may be our best commentary on this text. "By grace you have been saved through faith." That is the initiative of God, the first element in a covenant relationship. But we are called to response, realizing that "he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works."
"Makes you think, doesn't it?" writes Willam Povey. "Jesus is saying that with blessing there always comes responsibility. And he is saying that while God has patience with sinful (persons), there comes an end to that patience. Makes you think ...." (William Povey, The Power of the Kingdom, Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974, p. 53.)
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By James A. Nestingen
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
The Ten Commandments have come on hard times, lately. Absolutized in some circles, at least to the extent they apply to the neighbors, they are relativized in others, becoming the ten values in need of clarification. Both abuses have a common root, the failure to see them in their proper place.
Following the Hebrews on their trek through the wilderness, there has already been significant movement. The carnage and oppression of Egypt have been left behind, along with the Pharaoh's army. Though there are miles to go before Israel sleeps, the energy that has driven the exodus has become transparent. It is not the peoples' obedience, devotion, earnestness, commitment, or response: they have been led grousing all the way, their sins apparent to anyone who hears the story. Rather, it has been pure grace, God's lavish outpouring of munificence, spilling over in goodness even as the people would trade it all for leeks and garlic.
The same timing has been followed in the church. Advent long ago became Christmas, Epiphany yielded to Lent, and now Easter has become Pentecost. Yet it is only now, deep into the second half of the year, that we hear anything of the commandments.
This is the way it is supposed to be. For the commandments were never meant to save. Salvation is a sovereign act of grace. When we start offering up our services or, in some Protestant self-transcendence, surrendering to God in true commitment, the good Lord says, "Been there, done that: I don't need any help saving, thanks a lot. If I did, I would have handed out commandments before this parade left Egypt or distributed them to you Christians in Advent. I have brought them to your attention at this late date so that you won't get tempted by them, assuming that salvation depends on you."
Does that sound like too much? If it does, a close reading of Acts 15 and Galatians might be order. The Apostles decided, in conference, that the law -- which includes the commandments -- doesn't apply to Christians. The law is, in Paul's words, the rude pedagogue -- a tough substitute teacher -- here to keep order until Christ takes hold.
Once they've been put in their place, the commandments can actually be helpful. If they cannot and never were meant to save, they can do a very good job of reminding us of what God expects in relation to himself and in relation to the neighbor. God expects true faith, prayer, and an ear for his word. In relation to our neighbor, God expects the home to be a place of honor, neighborhood safety, sexual order, and protection for property, our good names and freedom, from the green eye. The commandments can't save, but in their place, they make sense: eminently good sense.
The Ten Commandments must be set into the context of God's covenant with Israel, begun with Abraham (or, some would assert, with Noah). Thus, chapter 20 cannot be treated adequately without including consideration of chapter 19. As they come to Sinai, Moses speaks a word from God: "You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself" (19:4). Covenant is based on God's initiative, God's grace, God's protection, God's love.
But covenant calls for response: "Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do" (19:8). This response will be the basis for their transition from a motley collection of slaves to an ordered and responsible people. "(God's) people were not intended to be a crowd but a community, bound to him and to one another by a covenant bond." (Bernard W. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1957, p. 53.) If this is to happen, they must accept the discipline that the Decalogue would require.
Though the Ten Commandments resemble other more ancient codes of law, such as the Code of Hammurabi, these are for Israel and are intended to help them maintain their peculiar covenant relationship with the God of Israel. They are necessary in order that they might be protected and kept as a unique people of God. The principle of separation, which runs through the entire Bible, is fundamental to this Leviticus text. God's movement against sin, God's declaration of judgment against wrongdoing, God's stern warning -- all these are for Israel's good.
"God's wrath," writes Gerhard Frost, "is only another side of (God's) love. If God's love were not a holy love it would not be true love. If God tolerated sin, (God's) love would be destructively indulgent instead of constructive and redemptive." (Gerhard Frost, The Law Perfect," Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1961, pp. 95-96.)
Philippians 3:4b-14
Paul can lay claim to a direct line to Mount Sinai. He is a child of the people of Israel. More than that, he is from the inner circle, both by tribal descent and, more importantly, by the way he has kept the law. To understand why all of this advantage has now become disadvantage we must recall again the idea of the covenant, the heart of the relationship between God and the chosen people. Paul now sees that the covenant relationship had a goal and that it reached its fulfillment, not in the detail of the law, but in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ -- and especially the resurrection. With his conversion everything has changed for Paul.
Paul is not arguing, of course, for antinomianism, for casting the law aside as useless. Our lessons for the past several weeks from his Letter to the Romans show that Paul is deeply concerned for how the believer lives out one's life in the world. He has called for a way of discipline and good works. But such a life can get in the way of what is most central. Therefore, he is making the case for what is absolutely essential -- faith in Jesus Christ alone for salvation.
"I have suffered the loss of all things" means literally "I had all things confiscated." Like the man in the parable who sold pearls of lesser value in order to buy "the pearl of great price," Paul has seen things from their proper perspective and has re-ordered the priorities of his life.
When Paul says, "I want to know Christ," he is speaking of more than intellectual understanding. This is "knowing" in the sense of full and compete identity with Christ. Like a mate who "knows" a spouse in more than a physical sense, like a friend who is "known" as more than a companion for an outing, so Paul wants to "know" Christ in depth and in breadth. "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." To be in covenant relationship with God is to be "in Christ" -- possibly the most common phrase in the New Testament.
It is out of this relationship that one is best prepared to come back to the law, centered in the Ten Commandments, and see them in a new light. For those who "press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus," these now become sign posts along the road, guides for life in the Kingdom. No longer under the burden of having to conform as a way to be made right with God, the believer now freely and joyfully takes on the discipline of love.
Matthew 21:33-46
In this second in the series of three parables aimed at his enemies, Jesus is telling them that in the long history of God's work with them as a chosen people there has been mostly disobedience. They have failed to obey God, "the owner of the vineyard." The messengers who have been sent over the years are no doubt the prophets, faithful servants of God who tried to call them back to their senses. Now they have committed the ultimate rejection by refusing to acknowledge Jesus as the very Son of God.
The parable would have evoked some positive response from Jesus' audience. As in every generation, there is a natural dislike for absentee owners. Furthermore, since possession and ownership were linked, any who longed for their own vineyard, their own piece of property, would identify with these servants who tried, even in an underhanded way, to take possession. But no matter how appealing, they could hardly miss the point.
The narrow application of the text would be to the Jews in the immediate setting who opposed Jesus. In the course of time, it took on a broader definition. That certainly would have been in the mind of Matthew as he wrote his gospel. Not only did those directly involved with Jesus reject him, but the entire people -- the Jews -- were seen as in rebellion once more against God. Now God would let out the vineyard "to other tenants," the Gentiles.
The climactic nature of the parable is reinforced in the word Jesus spoke immediately following it. By quoting from Isaiah -- "the stone that the builders rejected" -- he is asserting that already the seal has been fixed. Though the crucifixion still is to come, by now Christ knows that there is no hope for this people. The kingdom must be "taken away from you and given to a people that produced the fruits of the kingdom."
Suggestions For Preaching
The first and third texts are pointed so directly at the chosen people of God that one could focus almost exclusively on the tragedy of the rejection of Christ by Jews. And one could accent the importance of witnessing to them in the hope that in our day they might come to see that Christ is indeed the Messiah, the Son who has come to head the kingdom.
Legitimate as those themes might be, we should remember that these texts are a prophetic word for us today. If we are "the new Israel" then the implications of covenant are as relevant for us as they were for the Hebrews at Mount Sinai and for the Jews who first heard the parable of the vineyard. God continues to call us into relationship -- a relationship of "knowing" and "loving" God in Christ.
Out of that relationship comes another call. It is the invitation to obedience and accountability. We can make the mistake of the chosen people of God -- open rejection -- or the mistake of the early Paul -- focus on behavior rather than relationship.
Ephesians 2:8-10 may be our best commentary on this text. "By grace you have been saved through faith." That is the initiative of God, the first element in a covenant relationship. But we are called to response, realizing that "he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works."
"Makes you think, doesn't it?" writes Willam Povey. "Jesus is saying that with blessing there always comes responsibility. And he is saying that while God has patience with sinful (persons), there comes an end to that patience. Makes you think ...." (William Povey, The Power of the Kingdom, Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974, p. 53.)
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By James A. Nestingen
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
The Ten Commandments have come on hard times, lately. Absolutized in some circles, at least to the extent they apply to the neighbors, they are relativized in others, becoming the ten values in need of clarification. Both abuses have a common root, the failure to see them in their proper place.
Following the Hebrews on their trek through the wilderness, there has already been significant movement. The carnage and oppression of Egypt have been left behind, along with the Pharaoh's army. Though there are miles to go before Israel sleeps, the energy that has driven the exodus has become transparent. It is not the peoples' obedience, devotion, earnestness, commitment, or response: they have been led grousing all the way, their sins apparent to anyone who hears the story. Rather, it has been pure grace, God's lavish outpouring of munificence, spilling over in goodness even as the people would trade it all for leeks and garlic.
The same timing has been followed in the church. Advent long ago became Christmas, Epiphany yielded to Lent, and now Easter has become Pentecost. Yet it is only now, deep into the second half of the year, that we hear anything of the commandments.
This is the way it is supposed to be. For the commandments were never meant to save. Salvation is a sovereign act of grace. When we start offering up our services or, in some Protestant self-transcendence, surrendering to God in true commitment, the good Lord says, "Been there, done that: I don't need any help saving, thanks a lot. If I did, I would have handed out commandments before this parade left Egypt or distributed them to you Christians in Advent. I have brought them to your attention at this late date so that you won't get tempted by them, assuming that salvation depends on you."
Does that sound like too much? If it does, a close reading of Acts 15 and Galatians might be order. The Apostles decided, in conference, that the law -- which includes the commandments -- doesn't apply to Christians. The law is, in Paul's words, the rude pedagogue -- a tough substitute teacher -- here to keep order until Christ takes hold.
Once they've been put in their place, the commandments can actually be helpful. If they cannot and never were meant to save, they can do a very good job of reminding us of what God expects in relation to himself and in relation to the neighbor. God expects true faith, prayer, and an ear for his word. In relation to our neighbor, God expects the home to be a place of honor, neighborhood safety, sexual order, and protection for property, our good names and freedom, from the green eye. The commandments can't save, but in their place, they make sense: eminently good sense.
