This morning we are continuing our preaching series on Hebrew Scripture.  Two weeks ago we reflected on the story of God’s promise to Noah, and last week on the story of God’s promise to Abraham.  And this week we have in front of us one of the most famous passages of scripture in the whole Bible.  We heard what is commonly known as “The Ten Commandments.” They don’t actually get called “the ten commandments” here (and there are slightly different versions of these, and there aren’t exactly ten and they’re not exactly commandments) but never mind about that.  In our church tradition, this passage is called the Decalogue (Clement of Alexandria around 200 CE) – literally “ten words” from God because of references in Deuteronomy to the ten words or ten things that were written in stone on Sinai.  Moses reported hearing ten things from God on the Holy Mountain.  There is wide agreement in both Jewish tradition and Christian tradition that these are instructions for how to live in a community, in a society.   

Some of you will remember that I preached about the ten commandments back in October, and even though it’s unusual, I’m persuaded that it’s not too soon to do it again.  Addressing these words two times in 6 months is still a rather puny response to the large number of times that we have heard these words cited in our life times.  We are so thoroughly conditioned to “know them” that I bet we could have brainstormed the items on the list in the about the same amount of time that it took Walter Jonas to read them.

The passage begins by telling us that God spoke all these words, reminding the people first that God brought the people out of the house of slavery.   God has brought the people out of the narrow place – mitzrayim – out of a very tight spot – also known as Egypt.  There’s a special poignancy in this telling because this passage of Exodus was most likely written 1000 years after the Exodus from Egypt.  This account was written 500 BC as the Israelites were coming back to Jerusalem out of exile in Babylon (another narrow place, another tight spot – because oppression always makes a place narrow).  This is their new beginning – a fresh starting point for the community – yet another chance to live in an entirely new way.  And they are writing this story again of how God is expressing God’s will – God’s desire for God’s people.  “Listen,” God is saying, “I have moved you out from a place of dishonor and disrespect.  You are free.  You are no longer trapped.  You are no longer bound.  You are not enslaved.  You are not longer exiled.  I have redeemed you.  You are valuable.  You are precious to me.  And here’s how you, my beloved, will behave when you have no other gods more important than me.  Here’s how it will be when you know deep in your hearts that you are my people.”   

Now it’s hard not to think of what comes next as a list of regulations – but there actually aren’t any provisions for what happens when they are not listened to.  They are not regulations.  These words of the Holy One are absolute proclamations.  The sense of the scripture is more of a teaching, and a description of a hoped for future.  With the exception of two, which I will get to in a minute, the verbs in these proclamations are all imperfect tense in Hebrew, indicating ongoing or incomplete action.  They’re not in a command form grammatically. 

I remember exactly where I was when a friend who was studying Biblical Hebrew told me that the verbs in “the ten commandments” were not in command form.  That is the moment when I knew that I had to learn Biblical Hebrew, no matter what it took (and it took a lot, as it turned out) because I knew that I didn’t want to rely solely on other people’s translations.  Translators have so much power and I knew that I wanted some!  (And I realize that I’m exercising that power now and so you should listen to what I say with that awareness – with some curiosity and some suspicion about my social location and my agenda!)

The sense of these words is something like this.  God is saying, “When you have no other gods before me, here’s how you will behave, here’s how it will look.”  Just listen to how different it sounds, “You shall not commit adultery.”  vs. “When you have no other gods more important than me, you will not be committing adultery – you will not violate your primary commitments in relationship”.  Or “When you have no other gods before me, you will not be stealing from one another – indeed you will not even desire to steal.  You won’t covet.  You’re getting a fresh start – and here’s how I want it to be for you.  Here’s how I want it to be with you.”  It reminds me of a scene that I witnessed in a waiting room many years ago where a mother and a toddler were pacing back and forth across the room holding hands.  The toddler was saying “shut up shut up shut up shut up” and the mother kept saying “we don’t say that.”  “Well, obviously we do say that,” I thought to myself!  But what the mother was communicating was a description of how she wants family discourse to take place – right?  “In our family, we don’t talk to each other that way.  It’s not nice, it’s not acceptable, it’s not productive, it’s not polite,” or whatever. 

Remember, I said that there are two exceptions where the verbs are in more of a command form.  They are remember as in remember the seventh day to be holy (infinitive absolute verb form).  And honor as in honor your father and your mother (and that’s an out and out command).  I’ve often wondered if they are in command form because they are the most difficult of all – because they require our best attention.  I’m going to start with the second one first.  “Honor your father and your mother so that you can live long in the land God is giving you.”  Honor is not the same as submission – it’s much more sublime than that.  It has to do with dignity and integrity and respect.  The word literally means “weigh heavily.”  In other words, don’t take your father and your mother lightly.  Even if they did nothing else that was good, they gave you your life.  And for most of us, our parents did much much more.  Treat them (or if they are gone, treat your memory of them) with dignity and integrity and respect.

And then there’s the infinitive absolute verb “remember.”  Remember to keep the seventh day holy.  This is the most challenging of all and it always has been.  Remember to rest and to pray a full 1/7th of your time.  That might be the most foolishly extravagant thing ever commanded in the history of the world – and the most necessary.  It’s not so much about a long list of dos and don’ts – it’s about a “disciplined and regular disengagement from the systems of productivity whereby the world uses people up to exhaustion.” (those are Walter Brueggeman’s words).  The restrictive qualities in Christian tradition and in popular imagination have generally obscured the purpose of cultivating joy.  And yet, it’s clear here that the primary purpose of Sabbath is to experience God’s pleasure in creation – to feel refreshment and joy.  And don’t we have such a deep thirst for refreshment and joy?  It occurs to me that regular rest and refreshment might be the best prophylactic to protect against societal diseases, the symptoms of which are on that list of things we don’t do when we want to ensure the fullness of life in community, in our society. 

Here’s Perhaps you know that quarantine is a word that comes from forty days apart from the community in order to get rest and refreshment and to prevent the spread of disease.  The forty  days of Lent is a form of quarantine.  Perhaps this Lent is a good time to practice rest and refreshment, and to refrain from whatever attitudes and behaviors keep us from cultivating a sense of joy and wonder.  Think about that for a minute.  What attitude or behavior could you take a rest from for the next few weeks?  I know someone who gave up despair for Lent.  I remembered that when I re-read the text of today’s cantata which is about giving up despair for hope.  Imagine how refreshing!

Although our New Revised Standard Version translation renders the ancient Hebrew, “I the Lord your God am a jealous God” a much better translation is “I the Lord your God am an impassioned God.”  The Lord our God is a fervent – zealous – passionate lover, inviting us, urging us to become fervent, zealous, passionate, joyful lovers in response.  I hear this scripture challenging us to remember that at the core of our beings, we delight in the law of the One who has freed us and who longs for us to live as if it is true.  May this season of Lent be an opportunity for us to forsake whatever idols we have bowed down to, to examine whatever we have made more important than the Holy One, whatever has gotten in the way of the well-being of our world.   Pray that this time of Lent at Emmanuel Church be a time to claim our heritage as children of the Holy One and get in touch with our own passion – our own zeal for the goodness of creation – so that we can share it because God knows the world needs it.