While it may seem like an odd stewardship text, the Ten Commandments are a helpful touchstone in our efforts toward A Future with Hope. One of the key questions they respond to is “How do we live in community with each other, especially in uncharted territory?” So this covenant between God and God’s people has plenty to say to us fellow pilgrims on a transitional wilderness journey.
Last week, we began following Moses, God, and the
Israelites in their wilderness wandering. It hasn’t been easy since they left the banks of the Red Sea. The people have been arguing with Moses and testing God, God has been stepping in to meet their basic needs for food and water, and Moses has had it up to here with this rather whiny bunch.
As one preacher explains, “In the context of this larger narrative, the giving of the commandments can be understood as providing the people with a sense of purpose and identity. Although God has brought them out of Egypt and performed a number of miracles, it is not until this point in the story that God tells the people about God’s intentions for them.” (Amy Erickson, Working Preacher)
What we encounter is not simply a list of rules given to shape a stiff-necked people. “They are better viewed as a means to form and nurture an alternative community, bound not by common goals of wealth and prestige, but rather by loyalty to a god who has chosen to redeem a group of slaves from a life of bondage. The commandments mean to sketch out a space where human beings can live fruitful, productive, and meaningful lives before God and with one another.” They are for the sake of creating a community that more fully bears the image of God’s love and God’s shalom.
As we look to the text, we see that the instructions address two realms of life—the people’s relationship with God and their relationships with one another. The first four instructions have to do with relationship with God; the last six with human relationships. Both are necessary for a healthy faith, but the order in which the instructions are given makes it clear that our relationship with humanity has its roots in our relationship with God. The call to treat others—all others—with respect, dignity, and compassion is a direct extension of the very being and nature of God.
This text begins “I am the Lord your God” and ends with “your neighbor.” In doing so, it reveals that life according to the commandments is “fundamentally about radical commitment to God and compassion for the neighbor. The Commandments are intended to form the character of this community by cultivating a deep and enduring love for God, which then extends out to all creation” (AE). And the central instruction—the one that serves as the bridge between our relationship with God and others—is the Sabbath, “with its insistence on rest and restoration for every person, animal, and field.” (AE)
From the start, the commandments identify God with the act of liberation the Israelites have already experienced. In stark contrast to the oppressive life of bondage they knew in Egypt, what we see here is holy, counter-cultural community building. God makes it possible for the people to view their new lives, even in the wilderness, not as chaotic and terrifying, but as meaningful and fruitful. (AE)
Friends, we too, have left behind the familiarity of what was, and wander toward a future that we can’t yet imagine. The uncertainty can tempt us to get stuck longing for the way things used to be. But that might be an idol limiting our holy imagination and growth if we can trust in God’s promise of guidance and remain in awe of God.
What if this season is an opportunity to redefine ourselves by what matters most? What if we are being invited anew “to embrace the basic contours of the covenant that whittles us down to our essentials — to be a community that places loyalty to God and care for the other at the center of our lives. In the wilderness, maybe we can hear the voice of God more clearly — calling us to live into this covenant” (AE). Because along our way toward A Future with Hope, God offers us the promise of guidance. If only we are willing to listen, practice, and follow.
God walks with us in our wilderness wandering, calling us to name and reorient the world’s narrative of authority and scarcity with our narrative of faith and love, the counter-cultural narrative that we see in the Ten Commandments. We are to be witnesses whose lives proclaim that the laws of fear and the preservation of power don’t guide us. Instead, we follow the way of Jesus, the Prince of Peace, and we’re guided by laws of vulnerability and authenticity, which generate love, forge justice, and create shalom. That is how we move closer to A Future with Hope.
As we imagine anew what individual faith-work and community relationship-work the Ten Commandments are calling us to, I wonder what invitations might be offered in each of our lives. What opportunities for renewal, reconciliation, and healing call out to you? Or what old habits or frequent obstacles might you avoid?
As I’ve thought about these questions this week, here are some ideas I’m collecting for my own contemporary list of wilderness commandments:
You shall read poetry or listen to music to encounter God each day. You shall not numb yourself to the world’s pain with too much Netflix or lose yourself in despair with too much social media doom-scrolling. You shall take a walk and sit quietly with God. You shall lean into your discomfort and allow yourself to notice and feel your feelings. You shall not jump to conclusions or hold too firmly your own convictions. You shall reach out to those whose views challenge your own and listen deeply to their experiences. You shall not be apathetic about engaging in your community. You shall sit with the grieving and feed hungry people and love others as best you can with God’s help. You shall practice embodying shalom with and alongside others.
I hope you’ll continue to reflect on what prevents you from connecting with God and others from a place of love, and what might help you strengthen and deepen whatever practices you need to live more fully from a place of faith and gratitude.
In addition to God’s promise of guidance, the other good news today is that we don’t seek to chart the wilderness path toward A Future with Hope alone. Indeed, on this All Saints’ Sunday, we remember our beloved departed family of faith, and reconnect ourselves with the chorus of witnesses who in happiness and difficulty, found their hope in Jesus and made their way as part of the people of God.
We remember with deep gratitude the myriad ways in which these family members and friends shared themselves and their lives with us, and we celebrate the gifts of generosity and love and community they offered, as well. Their faithful living and stewardship inspire our own, and we commit anew to joining the work they’ve begun as we seek to build the beloved community with God’s help and following God’s guidance.
This great cloud of witnesses calls us to offer generosity and create community among the tired and the lonely; the vulnerable and the poor; the silenced, those at the margins, and those most in need of love. We are called to be living, breathing blessings in this community of faith and outside these doors so that our reality is transformed, so that all is made new, so that all might know A Future with Hope here and now.
Friends, on this All Saints Day, who do you remember and celebrate? Whose continued presence and spirit among us inspires your faithful response to God’s abundance and generosity? Whose life and spirit do you give thanks for as you think about your experiences of community and belonging and love? I invite you to evoke their memory and hold them close, not just today, but throughout this season of change and transition. May their presence steady us alongside the promise of God’s guidance in each faithful step we take toward A Future with Hope. This day and each day. Amen.