Mr. Andries had a reason for his advice. He recognized the power of ordinary faithfulness and daily responsibility. Inch by inch, over time it adds up because we become the kind of people who have the discipline and organization to bring lasting change. Picky as some of them seem, the Old Testament laws have the same effect as Mr. A.’s admonishment. After the first inspiring speech at Sinai, where Yahweh calls the Israelites his “treasured possession,” the list of rules must have felt rather anticlimactic. At least it does to modern readers. But is it really?
Before we read these laws, let’s be sure we know what we’re talking about.
The English word “law” is both too narrow and too misleading to accurately translate the Hebrew word torah. It is better translated as “instruction.” Torah encompasses a wider scope of material than just laws. And “law” is not the best word to describe what the Torah contains. Here’s why:
In modern Western society, “law” refers to a statute codified by the legislature that indicates either required or prohibited behavior, containing specific penalties that are enforceable by the executive branch of government. Often, their precise details are specified at length. “Buckle up—It’s the Law” means that not only is it a good idea to wear a seatbelt in a moving vehicle, it is also unlawful not to do so, leading to a prescribed fine or even the loss of driving privileges. In the state of Oregon, the seatbelt law is statute 811.210, punishable as a Class D traffic violation. On its own, this single statute contains enough small print to fill an entire page. Another section lists eleven exceptions to the rule.
Ancient “law” didn’t function in the same way.
Scholars studying ancient cultures are beginning to recognize that ancient laws were often hypothetical, rather than legislative.7 Lists of any kind were the primary means of demonstrating wisdom. You may have heard of Hammurabi (or Hammurapi, as his name is sometimes spelled). He ruled Babylon in the eighteenth century BCE and is best known for his law code consisting of 282 laws. Copies of Hammurabi’s code continued to be produced for centuries, indicating that a ruler such as Hammurabi was held up as the paragon of wisdom in governance. His law code was not legislatively binding, and therefore not cited in court, but rather a collection of wise deliberations on civil society, meant to be studied by judges to inspire reflection on justice. A judge or elder may have found a particular stipulation useful, but they were not bound to apply it across the board.
Could it be that the laws at Sinai fit this ancient category of “law as wisdom”? I think so. Significantly, in spite of the huge number of laws (613 to be exact), we rarely read about their enforcement in ancient Israel.8 In Old Testament times, the instructions at Sinai would have been understood as the paragon of wisdom—a portrait of a covenant-keeping Israelite. These instructions issued an invitation to a life worth living. Yes, he calls for their commitment, but not without his own. Yahweh’s instructions are embedded in a loving relationship.
My husband, Danny, and I require our children to do chores around the house. They clean their rooms, help with dinner, and complete their homework before play time. It would be odd for us to begin giving orders to other kids in the neighborhood. “Hey, Colton! Come take the trash out.” Or, “Theron, pull up these dandelions before you play basketball.” They would look at us perplexed. We lack the authority to give them chores. We also lack the relationship. At home, our relationship with our children is defined by a lot more than chores. We also eat together, play games together, go on walks, and have late-night conversations. There are hugs and tears and birthday parties and vacations. Chores are only one aspect of being a family.
I wonder if sometimes we read the Old Testament law as though God is that parent giving orders to other neighborhood kids. He’s overstepping his bounds or being too demanding or negative. His instructions aren’t random, though, and they don’t overreach. They are the “house rules” for Yahweh’s family. They ensure peace between family members. They are not the main thing, but rather the backdrop for the main thing, the loving relationship. We don’t have families so that we can do chores and have rules. We do chores and have house rules to facilitate life in a family.
God’s instructions at Sinai are set in a context of redemptive relationship involving mutual commitment. When we fail to realize this, it’s no wonder we get bent out of shape.
DIGGING DEEPER
Daniel I. Block. How I Love Your Torah, O LORD!: Studies in the Book of Deuteronomy. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2011. Chapter 1.
*Roy Gane, Old Testament Law for Christians: Original Context and Enduring Application. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2017.
Michael LeFebvre. Collections, Codes, and Torah: The Re-characterization of Israel’s Written Law. LHBOTS 451. New York: T&T Clark, 2006.
Austin Surls. Making Sense of the Divine Name in Exodus: From Etymology to Literary Onomastics. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2017.
John Walton. Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament: Introducing the Conceptual World of the Hebrew Bible. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2006. Chapter 13 on Law and Wisdom.
*Christopher J. H. Wright. The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006.
Related videos from The Bible Project: “Reading Biblical Law,” “Shema: YHWH,” “Sacrifice and Atonement,” and “Torah: Exodus 19–40.”
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MAJOR DEAL
Covenant as Vocation
WRITTEN IN STONE: WHY TWO TABLETS?
With Yahweh’s dramatic appearance and gracious invitation as a prelude, God issues instructions to the people appointed as his representatives (20:1-17). He later calls these instructions the “Ten Words” (Exodus 34:27-28). They are the official terms of the covenant Yahweh is making with Israel (see Exodus 31:18). Unlike all the other commands given at Sinai, God speaks them directly in the hearing of all the people.
DECALOGUE
Although it’s standard to call them the “Ten Commandments” in English, the Bible never does. They are always the “Ten Words.” This is where the term “Decalogue” comes from—it’s made up of the Greek words deka (ten) and logos (word). “Word” in Hebrew (dabar) has a wider range of meaning than “word” in English. It can refer more generally to a “matter” or “thing” as well as a word. As we will discover, the Ten Words contain more than ten commands.
Later, he inscribes them on two stone tablets. Why two? One of the biggest misconceptions about the Ten Commandments is that they did not all fit on one tablet. The vast majority of artistic representations of Moses and the two tablets presume that he’s holding “Volume 1” and “Volume 2.” However, we know from the biblical text that the commands were written on both sides of each tablet: “And Moses turned and he went down from the mountain, and the two tablets of the covenant document [eduth] were in his hand, tablets inscribed on both sides, inscribed on front and back” (Exodus 32:15, author’s translation).
The Hebrew word eduth, sometimes translated “testimony,” is a plural technical term for treaty documents. As with segullah above, eduth is a word found in related languages, such as Akkadian, to refer to treaty documents.1
Given the brevity of the Ten Words in Hebrew, just 171 words total, they easily could have fit on two sides of a single stone tablet, even if that tablet was not much larger than Moses’ hand. (This paragraph and the next total 200 words.) So why produce two tablets? For the answer we must turn to other ancient Near Eastern treaty documents. What we find is that it was standard practice to make duplicate copies of a treaty document, etched in stone. One copy belonged to each party, who would put it on display in their respective temple.2 This way, each of their gods could see the terms of the treaty and watch to ensure that both parties remained faithful. Here’s a Hittite example from a treaty between Suppiluliuma of Hatti and Shattiwaza of Mitanni (try saying those names five times fast!). In each king’s respective territory, the tablet is deposited in the temple so that the gods can oversee the agreement:
A duplicate of this tablet has been deposited before the sun-goddess of Arinna, because the sun-goddess of Arinna regulates kingship and queenship. In Mitanni land [a duplicate] has been deposited before Teshub, the lord of the [sanctuary] of Kahat. At regular [intervals] shall they read it in the presence of the king of the Mitanni land and in the presence of the sons of the Hurri country.3
In the case of Israel’s covenant, only one deity can ensure the covenant faithfulness of both parties: Yahweh. For that reason, both copies of the treaty will be placed in the most holy place of the Israelite tabernacle, under God’s watchful eye. The duplicate tablets indicate that both parties—Yahweh and Israel—are bound by the covenant between them.
Another myth about the Ten Commandments is that they divide neatly into two groups of laws—one pertaining to God and another pertaining to people. This unfortunate, deeply entrenched misunderstanding goes back many centuries. To cite just one example, the Heidelberg Catechism states:
Q. How are these commandments divided?
A. Into two tables. The first has four commandments, teaching us how we ought to live in relation to God. The second has six commandments, teaching us what we owe our neighbor.4
The artificial division between commands demonstrates an inadequate view of how covenants work. In the covenant community, every part of life is an expression of worship and loyalty to the God who has committed himself to these people. How they treat others reveals their heart toward God. Consider this example: after David sins by lusting after his neighbor’s wife, committing adultery with her, and then murdering her husband (breaking three of the Ten Commandments), he responds to the prophet Nathan’s confrontation by saying, “I have sinned against the LORD” (2 Samuel 12:13). Later he prays to Yahweh, “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight” (Psalm 51:4). For David, the so-called interpersonal commands have everything to do with God.
In the covenant community, every part of life is an expression of worship and loyalty to the God who has committed himself to these people. How they treat others reveals their heart toward God.
Conversely, if just one Israelite rebels against Yahweh, it puts the entire community at risk of God’s judgment. An obvious example is Achan, who kept some of the plunder of Jericho in spite of God’s clear instruction not to do so, making Israel vulnerable to defeat at the battle against Ai (Joshua 7). All ten of these commandments reflect a proper disposition toward God, and all ten affect the entire covenant community. By keeping them, the Israelites not only honor God but also ensure that the community of faith can flourish.
I’ll never forget a sermon I heard as a child shortly following the Jim Bakker scandal. The television personality and founder of PTL was caught embezzling funds, lying to donors, and allegedly raping a woman. Our pastor did not go into detail, but lamented that “Christians have become the butt of every joke.” He was right. One pastor’s fall into sin reflected poorly on evangelicalism as a whole, confirming what many suspected: Christianity is full of hypocrites, and preachers can’t be trusted. It happened again in 2006 with Ted Haggard, then president of the National Association of Evangelicals, when he was caught in a sex-and-drug scandal involving a male escort.
Like it or not, that’s what happens when one member of a company, a sports team, a club, or a faith community behaves badly. It reflects on the entire group and what they represent. There is no such thing as private sin. What we do matters. Not just to us, but to everyone on our team.
With Israel, the problem is even more serious than guilt-by-association. Because the whole nation collectively entered into the covenant with Yahweh, one person’s unfaithfulness put everyone else at risk of punishment by defiling the land (see Leviticus 18:28). It was all-for-one and one-for-all.
People often assume that because the Ten Commandments were written in stone, they apply to everyone throughout history, unlike the myriad specific laws in the Torah, which were intended for ancient Israel. But based on what we know of treaties from that time, it should be clear that this line of thinking is out of touch with ancient culture. The Ten Commandments are prefaced with a clear statement of their specific audience: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” (Exodus 20:2). The commands contain language very specific to that ancient culture (“Do not covet your neighbor’s ox”). They are never communicated to other nations. When the Old Testament prophets pronounce judgment on neighboring peoples (e.g., Amos 1–2), they are not measured against the Ten Commandments. Instead, they are measured against a standard of basic human decency. Are they arrogant jerks? Have they taken advantage of other nations’ misfortune or been unduly violent? These standards do not clearly arise from the Ten Commandments.
No, the commands in this ancient context are for the Israelites alone.5 The torah was a gift to Israel, the people of Yahweh. They signed on to it. But what exactly have they agreed to do?
THE GIFT OF LAW: A MANDATE TO FREEDOM
The Ten Commandments are among the most famous passages of the Bible. Even those not raised in the synagogue or church often have a vague idea of what they are—God’s divine decree about what people are not supposed to do. The unfortunate thing about this is that the commands are usually divorced from their context. If taken alone, people focus on the “Thou shalt nots,” and they miss the dramatic story of God’s deliverance that sets the stage.
Context is everything. I grew up with the most frugal grandparents on the planet, I thought. We were not allowed to turn on lights until the eye strain became unbearable. We could not waste paper, or water, or any bites of food. Leftovers were always saved for the next meal. Laundry was hung outside to dry. Old clothing was mended first before becoming quilts or perhaps rags. Old carpet became walkways between rows of beans and carrots in the garden. Zip-lock bags were washed for reuse. Scraps of wood were burned in the wood stove, upon which the tea kettle whistled and the pot of porridge cooked. All this frugality made much more sense to me when, as an adult, I visited “the old country” with my Dutch grandma, whom we called “Oma.” The Netherlands is a land reclaimed from the sea, where wind is harnessed to pump water, grind grain, press oil, and produce electricity. During World War II, when Oma was a young woman responsible for her motherless siblings, food was so scarce that they ate tulip bulbs. Walking in her wooden shoes for two weeks helped me to understand why she valued frugality so highly. In context, it made more sense to me.
To understand the Ten Commandments, we must read them in context. We’ve already considered the larger context, noting that they don’t receive the law until after their deliverance from Egypt. Now we’ll consider the immediate context. The first statement is not “Thou shalt not,” but rather “I am”—“I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” (Exodus 20:2). Remember me? I’m the one who rescued your people after 400 years of oppression. This declaration sets the agenda for everything that follows. If we post these commands in public but leave off verse 2, we could easily give the impression that these commands are a burden or form of bondage for those unlucky Israelites. But no, these commands are given to them by a God who rescued them from slavery, a God who has entered into a committed relationship with them, a God who reveals his personal name. Whatever follows must be a dimension of the freedom made possible by these ten boundaries, within which their lives can flourish. The God who saved them is giving them a gift!
COUNTING TO TEN: THE FIRST COMMAND
Counting the Ten Commandments is surprisingly tricky.6 We know there are ten because Exodus 34:28 and Deuteronomy 4:13 both say so. Special notations in the Hebrew text preserve two possible ways of counting them. The history of interpretation has introduced still others. Differences revolve around how to handle the first five and the last two verses. Jewish interpreters often consider the preamble (Exodus 20:2) as the first “Word.” (Since the Bible never refers to these as “Ten Commandments,” but rather “Ten Words,” it’s plau
sible to have a “word” that is not actually a command.)
Among Christians, there are two main approaches: the Reformed and the Catholic/Lutheran. The Reformed take “no other gods” and “no idols” are the first two commands, whereas Catholics and Lutherans take these together as the first command. They still end up with ten commands because the last command, “Do not covet,” is split in two (note that “do not covet” appears twice).
The way we count the commands makes a difference in our interpretation of them. Consider the traditional Reformed view:
Preamble:
I am Yahweh your God (verse 2)
Command #1:
You must have no other gods (verse 3)
Command #2:
You must not make an image (verses 4-6)
The Reformed branch of the church, which counts the command against “images” as its own command, concludes that no images of any deity can ever be made, including Yahweh. The walls of a Reformed church typically contain no pictures of God, Bible characters, or saints.
When I was newly married, I remember a phone conversation with Oma. I mentioned that I was hunting for a nativity scene that we could put out during the Christmas season. I was frustrated because all the options I found were light skinned, blond haired, and blue eyed. She was frustrated for another reason.
“Well,” she chided on the other end of the line, “You should skip it altogether. We are not to make any graven images.”
I was startled. A nativity scene a graven image? With her Dutch Reformed upbringing, any pictures or other representations of God were off-limits, even if they were not an object of worship, and even, apparently, if they were of Jesus. I argued that because Jesus was God-become-human, an artistic depiction of Jesus did not violate this command. Still, Oma wouldn’t budge.
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