God’s Law On Our Hearts

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on October 16, 2022. Based on Jeremiah 31:27-34.


“Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart.” This is the Shema, the centerpiece of Jewish morning and evening prayer services, something taught to Jewish children as their bedtime prayers, and the traditional last words of a Jew. It encapsulates the monotheistic beliefs of Judaism and reminds observant Jews of the true focus of their religion. We find it in Deuteronomy chapter 6, which reports Moses’s farewell discourse.

Deuteronomy is the closing book of the Torah or Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible. Collectively, the Torah describes a covenant relationship between Yahweh and Israel. We see an evolution in understanding from first Yahweh being the God of Abraham—special to him, but not necessarily the only god—to eventually El Elyon, God Most High, the one true God. This is a part of God’s progressive revelation to humanity as humans grow in their ability to understand who God is.

In particular, the Torah is concerned with establishing the Sinai covenant. Recall that the Israelites were a group of tribes who were living as slaves in Egypt. God freed them from slavery and they escaped into the wilderness, but then what? They were still just a ragtag group of nomads. The covenant at Sinai turned them into a nation.

The technical terms under this covenant were suzerain and vassal. In antiquity, we see a number of covenants of this sort between a powerful nation, like Assyria, and a lesser nation, like Moab. The powerful nation is the suzerain and agrees to protect the lesser nation, called their vassal. In return, the vassal is supposed to “love” their suzerain. Here, “love” is not an emotion, but an action. The vassal is supposed to support their suzerain, give them money or supplies or people in times of need or war. A covenant is like a treaty, but more relational. In the modern world, perhaps the relationship between Russia and Belarus is like suzerain and vassal.

In the Sinai covenant, God is the suzerain and Israel is the vassal. In this way, God turns Israel into a nation, because only a nation can be in this sort of relationship. What we call the Ten Commandments are actually the headline terms of the covenant. Think about the first commandment: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.” God is saying, I’m your suzerain because I rescued you when you were in trouble, so you will be my vassal and acknowledge only my authority over you. God goes on to list other conditions, which are basically ways to support God or to take care of your neighbor—ways to love God and love neighbor. Deuteronomy expands upon these themes and spells out just what it is to love God and neighbor, how that plays out in real life, and what the consequences will be if Israel, as a nation, fails to uphold their end of the bargain.

Jeremiah speaks out against Judah in the days shortly before their conquest. The Old Testament basically narrates the history of Judah and Israel through their rise, fall, and rebirth. They start as one man—Abraham—who has a grandson, Jacob, who gets nicknamed Israel. Jacob’s twelve sons go on to found twelve tribes, one of which is Judah. After God rescues them from Egypt, they become a nation comprising these twelve tribes. Eventually they settle in Canaan and establish a monarchy under Saul, David, and Solomon. That’s the peak, after which they begin their slow decline. Ten of the tribes split off, so that there are two kingdoms, Israel and Judah. The northern kingdom is conquered, and then the southern kingdom is conquered and taken into exile. Seventy years later, Judah is freed from their exile and they return to rebuild. So there is this grand story arc from greatness to sin to exile to partial restoration.

In a sense, this is a “type” of all Creation. In Biblical studies, a “type” is a real person or nation or event that can be interpreted as representing something else, something greater. Israel’s story arc can be interpreted in two ways, going down or up in scale. Going down in scale, we can maybe see ourselves, our own lives, in this story. We grow up and are formed into adults by our parents or other adults. We’re on our own, and usually, we screw up. Maybe in big ways, maybe in small ways, but regardless, most of us go through some heartbreaks that we cause ourselves. Then, like the prodigal son, we come to ourselves, return to God’s guiding ways, and become better people.

Going up in scale, Israel’s story is in a sense a story about all of Creation. We began as simple people, completely dependent on God. Then gradually, societies grew and changed. Every society suffers from systemic abuse or neglect of the poor and marginalized. Every human institution falls short of God’s glory. Here and there, we can see bright spots in human history, times when societies did the right thing and were oriented towards improving people’s lives. In America, I can point to the Progressive Era, from the 1890s to the 1920s. This was a time when “robber barons” had their power reigned in. When protections were put in place for workers and consumers. When women were given the right to vote. When educational access radically expanded. When most modern service organizations were founded, from the Optimists to the Lions Club to the Boy Scouts and beyond. Now, these efforts had their problems, but at least there was a general ethos of helping build a better society.

But just as Israel’s restoration after the exile was only partial, these bright spots in history are only partial and have not completely transformed the world. The trend is in the right direction, though. As Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” The world poverty rate, based on the percentage living on less than $5.50 per day, was 42.9% in 2018, which sounds bad, but is better than the peak of 68.1% in 1993. By nearly every metric, the world is better today than it was 500 years ago.

Yet as far as we have come, we have a long way to go. Let me turn back to Jeremiah. This section of his prophecies came near the end of Judah’s existence as an independent nation, but before they were actually conquered. I’ve said before that the apostle Paul had a hard life—well, so did Jeremiah. A few chapters later, he is imprisoned in a cistern and almost dies before being rescued. His life was so hard because he was an outspoken critic of Judah’s society. In fact, his recorded pronouncements were such extreme criticism that they gave rise to a term, jeremiad, which is “a long literary work … in which the author bitterly laments the state of society and its morals in a serious tone of sustained invective, and always contains a prophecy of society’s imminent downfall.” Basically, he spent his whole life telling Judah’s leaders how terrible they were. They mistreated the poor and ignored their commitments to God.

Here in the middle of his ranting and raving, though, he takes a few chapters to give Judah hope. Back in chapter 29 we get the famous verse, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” He encouraged those who were captured by the Babylonians to live as well as they could in that captivity because one day, they would be free to return to Judah and rebuild Jerusalem.

Jeremiah spoke of a time when the material world of Israel and Judah would be reconciled. He said, “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah.” He basically said that they were being punished, but the punishment would not last forever. He was speaking specifically about the restoration of Judah as a nation in what once was Canaan.

Yet Jeremiah’s words also point forward to the new covenant that Jesus Christ instituted. The original covenant was a suzerain/vassal relationship. Israel would be a nation that was a vassal to their God. But that was only temporary, as all things in this world are. That was just a way to teach them to follow God’s will and God’s ways. Moses said, “Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart.” He told the Israelites to remember God’s Laws, to write them on their door posts, to bind them on their hands and on their heads. He knew that people are forgetful and need constant reminders.

But God had a better plan. God said, “I will write it on their hearts.” We had been given book knowledge in the form of a set of laws, but now we will be given heart knowledge. God knows love must come from our hearts, not our heads. It must be both the absence of causing pain to our neighbors, and the action of helping them. It must be incarnational.

We have been made in the image of God. That image goes beyond our physical features and includes our thoughts, our emotions, and our actions. We must become image-bearers by having God’s heart. Since Jesus’s death, resurrection, and ascension, we have become the body of Christ. We need to see our neighbors as God sees them and love our neighbors as God loves them.

Now, that’s impossible to do on our own, but with God, all things are possible. By that I mean, if we trust our normal human instincts, we are almost certain to do the wrong thing. I preach inclusion, but truthfully, when I encounter someone who looks and acts different from me, I still have those normal human biases against them. My conscious mind embraces diversity, but my subconscious mind reacts just like someone in a primitive tribe protecting himself from outsiders. But with God’s help, I get a little better all the time, and maybe someday my subconscious mind will get reprogrammed. In the same way, God is transforming each person to be a little more Christ-like. And collectively, our world is becoming a little closer to God’s original divine plan.

The days are surely coming when all shall know God, for he will forgive their iniquity and remember their sin no more. That day has already come, and yet is still in our future. We live in an already-but-not-yet state. We have already been forgiven, through Jesus’s life of sacrifice. Yet we still sin against God and neighbor, and so we still need to be forgiven. We get glimpses of the kingdom of God, those times when God reveals her love to us and we can feel her presence in and among us. But we know we are not yet living in that kingdom, because we still see people suffering and dying, due to drugs or violence or poverty.

But the days are surely coming, and we can live into God’s kingdom now if we allow God to write their laws upon our hearts. Jesus did not abolish the law, but instead showed how it could lead to a better life. He showed that if we make God our top priority, and our neighbor’s welfare as important as our own, we can be part of the kingdom of God now. In the Gospel lesson we heard that it takes only a little bit of faith to be a part of that kingdom. If we trust in God’s plan, we can turn our focus from protecting ourselves from harm to helping others thrive. Just as Jeremiah told the ancient Judahites who were in exile, if we work for the good of others, God’s grace will flow over and through us, partially restoring us in preparation for our future full restoration and reconciliation.

One thing you will notice if you read the Old Testament prophets is that by and large, they were failures. Jeremiah preached that Judah needed to turn their hearts to God and follow God’s laws, and they basically ignored him or imprisoned him. The king even made a great show of burning the scroll that Jeremiah dictated to his scribe. I think Judah had to hit rock bottom before they would get the message. You sometimes see the same thing with people who find Jesus while they’re in prison—they have to hit rock bottom to realize that they need to rely on God instead of themselves. I think the same applies to churches, and the Church more broadly: we have to realize that relying on our own ideas and our own efforts is never going to be enough. If instead we rely on God, place all our faith in God, and put God’s love into action, we can be a part of remaking Creation according to the original divine plan and start to live in the kingdom of God now. Amen.

Shameless Love

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on October 2, 2022, World Communion Sunday. Based on 2 Timothy 1:1-18.


Before I jump into the lesson for the day, I’d like to give a little background on Second Timothy. A good fraction of the New Testament was allegedly written by Paul. Some letters are uncontested—Romans, First and Second Corinthians, Galatians, First Thessalonians, Philippians, and Philemon. There are a few others that may be authentic and at least reflect Pauline theology. Then there are the Pastoral Epistles: First and Second Timothy and Titus. They are called “pastoral” because their contents refer to church organization and administration, and also because they are written to particular individuals who are known to be pastors. Many scholars reject all three, and I would probably never preach from First Timothy or Titus. However, Second Timothy is the most likely of the three to be authentic, and when I read today’s passage, it spoke to me. It reflects a time in Paul’s life that I think has a lesson for our church today. Also, incidentally, like Timothy, my own grandmother’s name was Lois.

Paul is nearing the end of his life. Let’s think about what he has done. He started out a Pharisee, a deeply committed practitioner of Judaism, and to borrow a term from modern discourse, perhaps he was a fundamentalist. He was conservative, at least, in his beliefs and practices, and so he persecuted those who sought to change the focus from Temple worship to following Jesus Christ. After a miraculous encounter on the road to Damascus, followed by days of blindness and then a healing by one of Jesus’s followers, Paul instead became the leading proponent of a new way of following God. As he wrote in today’s passage, he was still committed to following the God of his ancestors; he just had a new understanding of what that meant.

His ministry included several trips around the Mediterranean. He tried to convince Jews to follow Jesus, but eventually determined that his particular calling was to Gentiles. Paul never stopped being a Jew and never stopped believing that his fellow Jews should follow Jesus, but he focused his energy on spreading the Good News of God’s kingdom to those who had previously been locked out of it, but were now welcomed because of Jesus’s saving life, death, and resurrection.

New ideas always give rise to opposition, and Paul’s ministry put him into direct conflict with both Jewish and Gentile leaders. He had a hard life. He was shipwrecked a few times, jailed several times, and flogged. He made good use of his time in prison—many of his letters were written while he was imprisoned, including this farewell message to Timothy. But you can tell from the tone of his writing that he was feeling dejected. He had labored for years to bring Gentiles into God’s kingdom, to spread a message of radical inclusion. Would it all be for naught? We read at the end of today’s passage that “all who are in Asia have turned away” from him. Now, that’s a bit of hyperbole, but Paul was feeling like everyone was abandoning the message that he had taught. He considered himself “a herald and an apostle and a teacher,” and yet his pronouncement and teachings were being forgotten and ignored. He knew his life was coming to an end. He surely believed that he would soon be with his Lord, and yet he cared deeply for the people still living lives separated from God. Would his work die with him?

Well, he could hold on to one hope: that Timothy would carry on the faith. As far as we know, Paul was never married and had no biological children, but he did have spiritual children. He considered Timothy to be like a son to him. The way Paul talks about him is intimate and physical, not just spiritual. It is incarnational.

We modern Christians owe a lot of our belief system to Greek philosophy, including a dualistic belief that the spiritual and material worlds are totally separate, and that the spiritual world is fundamentally superior. Paul didn’t believe that and didn’t teach that. The Jewish belief system that Paul’s Christian theology grew out of is fundamentally incarnational. He didn’t believe that the material world was something terrible to be escaped, but instead was something broken that needed to be healed. One day, this world will be fully transformed into God’s kingdom. In the meantime, Paul taught us to work towards its transformation on a small scale. We cannot change everything for everyone, but we can change the world in a small way for one person at a time.

Paul effected that transformation through deeply personal relationships. He relied on God of course, and particularly on his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, but he also needed people like Timothy and Onesiphorus to sustain him.

In the same way, we all need to live incarnational lives. Too often, we separate the spiritual from the material worlds. We pray for mercy on Sunday and work for retributive justice on Monday. We pray for peace but pursue war. We pray for an end to hunger but perpetuate systems that keep people around the world in abject poverty.

We need instead to live an embodied faith. I’ve listened to a few podcasts that interviewed “embodiment coaches.” I found a good explanation of what that means from Michelle Neumann on embodiedpresencenc.com:

An Embodiment Coach is someone who supports you in creating ways of living more consciously and consistently in your body, embracing the present moment, setting intentions and goals from this embodied space, and listening to and following the wisdom your body has to share with you!

Michelle Neumann

This is basically a new term for an old concept. Monastic orders have long taught that we need to live in the present, not dwelling on past heartbreaks or worrying about the future, but simply being in the present moment, seeing God in all things, living in our bodies that are a part of Christ’s body. And what do we do with those bodies? We embody the faith that we have been taught, by Abraham and Moses and Amos and Jesus and Paul. Susan shared a quote a few weeks ago that really resonated with me, because it was also on the wall of my grandma’s house. Etienne de Grellet, a Quaker missionary, once wrote:

I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.

Etienne de Grellet

Live in the present moment. See where God is calling you to act, and do it. Each moment comes but once, and if we miss it, it’s gone forever. Take advantage of every opportunity to embody the faith of our ancestors.

What is holding us back? What is holding YOU back? Well, maybe this isn’t true for you, but one thing that commonly holds Christians back is shame. Society has rules and uses shame to enforce them. One rule is to never discuss religion or politics in polite company. Generations of that rule have left us unable to discuss them politely. People assume that if you bring up politics, it’s either to reinforce your bond over shared beliefs or to argue, strenuously, to get them to change their minds. It’s really difficult to have a calm, rational discussion about world events that have a political dimension. Too often, we lapse into sound bites that we have heard from our favorite political commentators, and wind up talking past each other.

In a similar way, people assume that if you are talking about religion, your goal is to browbeat them into changing their minds. Evangelism has become a dirty word, tarnished by decades of aggressive proselytizers. Christians with a particular worldview have gone forth with their Four Spiritual Laws to convert sinners into saints. Do you all know about the four laws? The first one is, “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.” I can get on board with that. Where it goes off the rails is the second law, “Humanity is tainted by sin and is therefore separated from God. As a result, we cannot know God’s wonderful plan for our lives.” Basically, the Four Laws teaching is that we are all sinful, terrible creatures that need to REPENT! We are worthless but can be saved if we say the sinner’s prayer. Well, for more than fifty years, this has been the most vocal evangelistic message. So if you bring up Christianity, people are on guard. They put up walls and end the discussion.

Most of us respond by just never bringing it up. We don’t want to be rejected because of our beliefs, so we hide our beliefs. We cede the public conversation to those who preach hate in the name of a loving God, and then we’re surprised that nobody wants to come to church. We hide ourselves from the world, and then we’re surprised that nobody knows where to find us when they need the God we worship and adore.

Paul told Timothy, “I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard the deposit I have entrusted to him.” As I said, Paul had a hard life. He could have just put all of his time and energy into tent-making and had a much easier time. But in a culture where shame could mean death, he was unashamed to preach the Good News of God’s inclusive kingdom. He was unashamed to make enemies of both the conservative Jewish synagogue leaders and the Gentile political leaders. He had no fear of making enemies across all social strata. He knew that God’s kingdom was greater than the limited vision the Jewish rabbis taught about, and greater than the powerful Roman empire.

Paul went on to praise Onesiphorus because “he often refreshed [Paul] and was not ashamed of [his] chain.” Paul brought shame upon himself and got himself flogged and imprisoned. Yet he formed relationships through the power of the Holy Spirit that transcended these merely mortal concerns. He was able to find people who understood his mission, who understood that God’s kingdom would transform and transcend this broken world. Paul counseled Timothy, too, to rekindle the gift of God that was within him, a spirit not of cowardice but of power and love and self-discipline. He said, “Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel.”

Paul’s challenge to Timothy is also a challenge to us today. Do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord. But how shall we testify? I suppose I could find a street corner and harangue passersby like some traveling preachers do, but I’m pretty sure that would hurt more than help. That’s what has given evangelism such a bad name. What is the fundamental message of the Gospel? The arrival of God’s kingdom, which is the transformation of this world into a place where everyone knows and loves God, and loves their neighbors as themselves. So the best way to share the Gospel is to share love.

Who should we love? Let me turn that around. Who shouldn’t we love? Who should we reject, revile, and hate in God’s name? Well, I would be hard pressed to identify anyone that Jesus said should be kept out of his kingdom. If I had to name someone, it would be hypocrites and those who ignored the needs of the sick, the poor, and the prisoner. Jesus only ever chastised those who made other people’s lives worse instead of better. So let’s strive to make this world a better place, one person and one relationship at a time. Let’s strive to invite everyone, EVERYONE, into God’s kingdom.

That was Paul’s message. He traveled the Near East preaching a message of radical inclusion. He became like a Jew to the Jews and like a Gentile to the Gentiles. He taught that being circumcised or uncircumcised made no difference. He taught that nothing could ever come between us and God. And yet despite this message of inclusion, or more likely because of his message of inclusion, he was rejected. As he approached the end of his life, he feared that his work would end with him.

Impact. He looked back on his life and wondered, did it matter? Did his work really change anyone’s hearts or minds? Two thousand years later, we can confidently say yes: Paul’s life mattered. He gave his whole self to God, pursuing his calling as a herald, apostle, and teacher. He risked everything for the sake of that calling, likely dying in prison. He had faith that the calling was worth the risk. He relied on the grace of God, promised from before the ages began, to sustain him in this life and the next. He knew that if he gave his whole self to God, his self-sacrifice would matter. His challenge to Timothy is his challenge to us today. Give your whole self to God. Let go of fear and shame, and go forth as a herald, proclaiming God’s all-inclusive, all-loving kingdom. If we do that, if we turn away from a spirit of cowardice, we can be sure that we will be sustained by God’s spirit of power and of love and that we will be a part of God’s kingdom right here, right now, and in the world to come. Amen.

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