Bearing God's Name

by Carmen Joy Imes

  At Sinai, everything changes. At Sinai, the Hebrews discover who they are and, more importantly, whose they are.

  Before he leaves Sinai to return to Egypt Moses unveils his fears in God’s presence: What if they ask me questions? What if they don’t believe me? I’m horrible with words. I’d really rather you send somebody else (Exodus 3:13; 4:1, 10, 13). But God has a further surprise in store for him. He works through Moses’ staff to validate Moses’ leadership, giving a dramatic demonstration of his power. And Yahweh had already designated Aaron as Moses’ assistant: “He is already on his way to meet you” (Exodus 4:14)—a divine appointment if ever there was one. God had already started answering Moses’ prayer before the words formed on his lips. Aaron was on his way.

  Moses must have treasured this encounter during the difficult months ahead—leaving his wife’s family, returning to Egypt, trying to rally the Hebrew slaves, and confronting Pharaoh. All the while did he keep thinking about that mountain and Yahweh’s promise to bring them all to Sinai?

  And the people—did they know this is where they were headed? Do they realize they’ll camp here almost a full year? I suspect that the Hebrews have Canaan on their minds and hope to get there as soon as possible. If so, they are in for a big surprise. On this divine road trip, the detours are essential. The people are not yet ready for Canaan.

  WORSHIP IN THE WILDERNESS

  Worship was not only the stated reason for their desire to leave Egypt but was the sign that God had kept his word. Moses didn’t ask Pharaoh to let them go forever. He simply asked for a few days to hold a worship celebration to Yahweh (Exodus 5:1). This request was no farce. Though God had promised to completely deliver the Hebrews from slavery and bring them into a new land, Moses’ scaled-back request to Pharaoh reveals the stinginess of Israel’s Egyptian master. It is not just that he overworks and oppresses the people, depriving them of freedom. He also deprives Yahweh, their God, of worship. Pharaoh’s response is a direct challenge to Yahweh. And God’s reply is decisive: Yahweh is worthy of worship, and he will tolerate no rivals.

  At Sinai, everything changes. At Sinai, the Hebrews discover who they are and, more importantly, whose they are. The agenda for this stop is worship. For most of us, the word “worship” is synonymous with singing on Sunday morning. However, in the Old Testament era, worship meant presenting God with animal sacrifices as a demonstration of repentance and gratitude for his provision. This is what the Hebrews intended to do in the wilderness—animal sacrifice. Away from forced labor, they would be able to devote themselves fully to a celebration of God’s forgiveness.

  So Yahweh brings his people out to worship him. He has kept his word. They’ve been set free! And now they’ve come to do what they intended, to make things right with God and give him the honor he deserves. It’s a divine appointment. And in the process of learning how to honor God, they discover their own vocation. It’s not what they expect.

  PROFILE UPDATE

  Words are powerful.

  Whether you like where you are in life or not, there’s a very good chance that you can think back and remember a time when someone said something about you that stuck. “You’re really good at that.” Or, on the other hand, “Don’t quit your day job.” I remember a particularly dark time in my doctoral studies. Severe interpersonal challenges sapped me of my strength. Just when I was ready to limp across the finish line, my advisors lovingly pulled me aside and told me that I had quite a bit more work to do. I was crushed.

  It was during those difficult days that a senior faculty member met me for lunch. She told me, “Carmen, I have every confidence that you will graduate. You will find a great job and you will thrive.” Those words meant the world to me. I clung to them for the next eighteen months as I labored to finish my research and writing. And she was right. I did finish, and I did find a job, and I am thriving. But if she had said, “Carmen, jobs are very scarce. You should think about heading in a new direction,” I might have walked away. Words are powerful.

  God’s first message at Sinai lays the groundwork for all the rest of his instructions. These words set a new trajectory for the nation of Israel. If we miss it, we’ll likely mischaracterize everything else. Moses heads up the mountain to meet with Yahweh. God gets right to the point:

  This is what you are to say to the descendants of Jacob and what you are to tell the people of Israel: ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ These are the words you are to speak to the Israelites. (Exodus 19:3-6)

  Grace in Exodus? Absolutely. When Yahweh responded to the cries of the Israelites in Egypt, he didn’t blame them for their predicament. He didn’t tell them they were naive or spineless or gullible. He said they were a treasure set apart for a special purpose. We miss the grace because we too often see the Ten Commandments without the glorious context of deliverance. We miss the grace because we read the judgment stories in isolation, without the long litany of second chances. When we read the laws on their own, without the deliverance, we come out with a skewed picture of the Old Testament God. Israel didn’t see Yahweh like that. Exodus 19:3-6 is a prime example of grace. In this single passage, four major grace notes are sounded:

  1.Yahweh’s decisive military victory over Israel’s oppressor: “You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt.” God triumphed over Egypt to set his people free.

  2.Yahweh’s loving care for Israel in the wilderness: “I carried you on eagle’s wings and brought you to myself.” He carried them, keeping them safe.

  3.Yahweh’s invitation to covenant faithfulness: “If you obey me fully and keep my covenant.” God is no harsh taskmaster. He drew Israel to himself, offering the Israelites his commitment to bless them.

  4.Yahweh’s selection of Israel as his ambassador, set apart from other nations for special service: “Out of all nations you will be my treasured possession.”

  To fully grasp the significance of Israel’s new status, I need to teach you my favorite Hebrew word: segullah (pronounced SEH-gull-ah). In the NIV, it’s appropriately translated as “treasured possession,” but it helps if we understand the wider use of this word. Segullah appears eight times in the Old Testament. Twice it refers to the king’s personal treasury (1 Chronicles 29:3; Ecclesiastes 2:8). The other six occurrences are figurative, referring to Israel as Yahweh’s “treasured possession” (Exodus 19:5; Deuteronomy 7:6; 14:2; 26:18; Psalm 135:4; Malachi 3:17). Equating people with a savings account seems odd. In what sense can a group of people be considered a treasure?

  The Bible is not alone in using this term to refer to people. The related ancient languages of Ugaritic and Akkadian both employ an equivalent word to refer to someone who enjoys a special status in relation to the king, a covenant partner who is especially treasured and entrusted with greater responsibility.2 Just as a person carefully puts away his or her earnings for a special purpose and then treasures what they have patiently saved, so Yahweh is said to have selected and saved Israel from among all the nations to be his treasured people. From slaves to treasure. In the Aramaic translations of the Old Testament, the segullah is described as “beloved.”3

  The immediate context in Exodus 19:5-6 describes what role Yahweh’s segullah is expected to play in relation to the rest of the world as a result of their treasured status. They are to be a “kingdom of priests,” serving as his ambassadors to the nations, and a “holy nation,” set apart for God’s purposes. In my all-time favorite book, The Mission of God, Christopher J. H. Wright emphasizes that Israel was chosen in order to bless the nations. He says, “They have a role that matches their status. The status is to be a special treasured possession. The role is to be a priestly and holy community in the midst of the nations.”4

  This is a high calling indeed. And it�
�s not forced on them. Many have the impression that Yahweh’s law is heavy-handed, but note the people’s reaction to this new arrangement: “So Moses went back and summoned the elders of the people and set before them all the words the LORD had commanded him to speak. The people all responded together, ‘We will do everything the LORD has said’” (Exodus 19:7-8). They sign on willingly.

  Then, lest the leadership lessons of the previous three months be forgotten, Yahweh arranges a public demonstration of Moses’ authority: “The LORD said to Moses, ‘I am going to come to you in a dense cloud, so that the people will hear me speaking with you and will always put their trust in you’” (Exodus 19:9). In preparation for this dramatic display, the people wash their clothes and abstain from sexual relations. This is their means of consecration, or being set apart to witness the glory of God. However, only Moses and Aaron are allowed to approach God by climbing the mountain. Thunder and lightning, thick clouds, smoke, and an earthquake are the signs of Yahweh’s awesome presence. In the midst of this awe-inspiring scene, Yahweh speaks directly to Moses, who mediates his messages to the people. This should put to rest any lingering questions about who is in charge.

  Moses delivers another message, preparing the community to hear directly from Yahweh (Exodus 19:20-25).

  And then God speaks again, this time directly to the people. He gives them . . . rules.

  SOMETHING TO CELEBRATE

  Now we’ve come to the part that most of us would like to skip over. Dare I say it? The law. After Exodus 19, a single exciting chapter with lightning, thunder, glory, and verses inspiring enough to paint on the wall, we enter the weeds—twenty chapters of detailed instructions about what’s allowed and what’s not, how to build a tabernacle, and how to dress the high priest. A few stories interrupt this sober litany, for instance, the golden calf, but these are chapters that most of us would be quite content to skip.

  However, as I’ve already noted, Moses’ attitude toward these lists of instructions is strikingly positive. For him, law is a gift to be received gladly. And Moses is not alone in this sentiment. In fact, the longest chapter in the whole Bible, Psalm 119, is an extended celebration of the law as a gift. Check out this unbridled enthusiasm (emphasis added):

  Joyful are those who observe his rules and seek him with all their heart (v. 2 NLT).

  I have rejoiced in your laws as much as in riches (v. 14 NLT).

  I will walk in freedom, for I have devoted myself to your commandments (v. 45 NLT).

  How I delight in your commands! How I love them! (v. 47 NLT).

  Your laws are my treasure; they are my heart’s delight (v. 111 NLT).

  As pressure and stress bear down on me, I find joy in your commands (v. 143 NLT).

  Psalm 119 is an acrostic poem. Each stanza is connected to a letter of the Hebrew alphabet, and every verse of each stanza begins with the same letter. Somebody spent a lot of time crafting this poetic celebration of the law. The poet held it in high esteem. He thought it was the best thing since manna.

  But why? Why would the people of Israel consider these rules a treasure? What’s the big deal? To understand their enthusiasm, we need to walk a mile in their sandals. The Israelites lived in a time when people were desperate to know what the gods were saying. Since the gods didn’t normally speak audibly as you and I do, priests were trained to read the signs they left in the natural world. Sometimes they manufactured situations in which the gods could reveal things to them, such as the elaborate rituals in which they dropped oil or flour into water and interpreted the results. They sacrificed animals and studied their livers or intestines (yes, their bloody guts) for clues about what the gods were thinking or what they would do next. They watched for strange births or newborn animals with defects. They studied the stars. They contacted the dead, doing whatever it took to forecast the future or discern the will of the gods. An answer was not guaranteed. Sometimes they simply could not figure out what the gods wanted. Check out this excerpt of an ancient prayer written in Akkadian, the language of ancient Assyria and Babylon. Dating roughly to the same time as the Exodus, the “Prayer to Any God” is characteristic of the literature of this period, which depicts humans as unable to comprehend the ways of the gods.5

  May (my) lord’s angry heart be reconciled,

  May the god I do not know be reconciled,

  May the goddess I do not know be reconciled,

  May the god, whoever he is, be reconciled,

  May the goddess, whoever she is, be reconciled. . . .

  O (my) lord, many are my wrongs, great are my sins,

  O my god, many are my wrongs, great my sins,

  O my goddess, many are my wrongs, great my sins,

  O god, whoever you are, many are my wrongs, great my sins,

  O goddess, whoever you are, many are my wrongs, great my sins!

  I do not know what wrong I have done,

  I do not know what sin I have committed,

  I do not know what abomination I have perpetrated,

  I do not know what taboo I have violated!6

  The prayer is soaked in anguish. The one praying is not at all certain to whom he is even praying—“whoever you are”—or how he has angered the gods—“I do not know what wrong I have done.” His prayer is a scramble to cover all his possible bases. He was desperate to know the deity and to please him or her.

  Not so with Israel. God took the initiative. He chose them, rescued them, established them as his people, and then told them exactly what he expected. God spoke. No more guesswork. No wondering what would make him happy or angry. He made it all clear up front. How freeing! Why did people breathe a sigh of relief over twenty long and boring chapters of laws at Sinai? This is why.

  I am not saying that salvation comes through obedience to the law, or that the gospel depends on our effort. Remember—the Israelites had already been rescued from Egypt when they were given the law. God did not say to them, “Do all these things and I will save you from slavery.” He saved them first, and then gave them the gift that goes with salvation, instructions on how to live as free men and women. Moses and the psalmist both realized that they were better off for it. They realized that true freedom requires clearly communicated boundaries. They recognized the grace of God’s law. It was a gift!

  Imagine that your community is planning to build a new playground with easy public access, right beside a busy intersection. Wouldn’t it be odd if someone argued that children would have more fun on this playground if there weren’t any fences to cramp their style? No, putting a fence between the cars-in-motion and kids-in-motion just makes sense. It ensures that children can play freely without fear of harm. It provides parents with a respite from watching their every move. A good playground includes physical boundaries. These ensure that everyone can have fun and fewer children end up in the emergency room. The fence is a gift! A playground with no fences isn’t really freedom; it’s an accident waiting to happen.

  Israel’s laws are the fences within which life can flourish.

  Israel’s laws are the fences within which life can flourish. They make possible a distinctive way of life so that other nations can see what Yahweh is like and what he expects. The law was never the means by which Israel earned God’s favor. The Israelites were saved the same way we are—by grace through faith. But their obedience expressed their covenant commitment, or allegiance, to Yahweh. And it kept them in a position to experience the benefits of the covenant relationship.

  The covenant promised wonderful blessings for the Israelites—a fruitful land, many descendants, and the opportunity to represent Yahweh to the nations and be a conduit of his blessings. None of those privileges could be realized if they were worshiping other gods or acting treacherously toward their neighbors. For their society to point others to Yahweh’s character, they would need to reflect that character in all their relationships. If they allowed greed or lust or idolatry a foothold in their community, Yahweh would need to discipline them, calling them to repent
ance. Rebellion on their part would activate the other side of the covenant—the stern warning expressed in curses (see Deuteronomy 28). The invitation to covenant with Yahweh was itself a gift, not something they earned by good behavior, but it was not a blank check to fill out how they pleased.

  The Old Testament laws related to virtually every facet of Israel’s life—business, agriculture, cooking, diet, dress, worship, governance, relationships, health, even the yearly calendar—because being God’s covenant people meant being transformed in all these areas. The law envisions a different kind of life, characterized by self-discipline and self-giving love. Imagine a community where every member actively worked to love and protect their neighbor!

  Keep this in mind as we enter the maze of instructions at Sinai. This law is a gift. It’s good news. Yahweh speaks. And he sets up boundaries so that his people can experience the joy of living in freedom.

  LAYING DOWN THE LAW? HOW LAW FUNCTIONS IN ANCIENT ISRAEL

  When my son completed fifth grade at Prairie Christian Academy, the school held their annual awards assembly. The occasion was more significant than the usual advancement ceremony because his teacher, Mr. Andries, was retiring after thirty-eight years of teaching. Mr. A. addressed the class, casting a vision for the lifelong project of following Jesus. He inspired them to keep growing and to remain faithful. But Mr. A.’s last words to them were startlingly mundane: “Don’t forget . . . ,” he paused, allowing the students to chime in and finish his sentence, “to make your bed.” It was obvious that this had been his daily mantra.