On Honoring Instead of Hanging the Ten Commandments

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” - Psalm 34:18 (NIV).

Growing up Baptist I knew less about the Ten Commandments than my fellow Protestants who grew up learning catechisms about them. In a pinch I could probably list most of them, and that was about it. It wasn’t until I was doing graduate studies that I found that there are at least three different ways of reaching the number ten that Christian and Jewish traditions use.

However, as a Baptist I do know plenty about separating the state from the church. I attended public schools my entire upbringing, and I am not sure how different or better my education or that of my classmates would have been had the Ten Commandments hung on our classroom walls. But I do know that the Ten Commandments are more than a list to memorize. They reflect the character of the God we worship, and there is much for us to learn from that.

The most important part of the Ten Commandments is its introduction: "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” (Ex 20:2). Everything that follows stems from there. God is not only the God who saves, but he saves even those whom the world scorns and leaves behind - foreign slaves.

In contrast to Egypt and their Canaanite neighbors, the God of Israel did not take up the cause of kings or the privileged rich. Rather, he alone was the owner and ruler of all, so all humans are equal before him. This is why the Ten Commandments, when they turn to relations between us humans, focus on our equality - don’t take a life, don’t steal, don’t condemn someone by lying, don’t even desire to take what belongs to someone else. These apply to anybody and everybody - from Pharaoh up in his palace to a young child cramped in a tiny bedroom with all her family.

As if God wasn’t clear enough with the Ten Commandments themselves, what is likely the oldest form of Israelite laws, known as the “Book of the Covenant” (Ex 20:22-23:19; cf. 24:7), elaborates more on who this God of the freed slaves is and what kind of people he is calling his people to be. Among these laws I will highlight three:

"Do not oppress a foreigner; you yourselves know how it feels to be foreigners, because you were foreigners in Egypt” (Ex 23:9; cf. 22:21). 

Paul Hanson argues that this law reveals an alignment between our salvation and how we treat others: ”Humane treatment of an outsider is not experienced as a burdensome obligation or an abstract option, but as the spontaneous expression of the loving nature that has been created within you by the God who, when you were an alien, gave you a home” (A Political History of the Bible in America, 150).

It is hard to imagine life as a foreigner if you never leave your passport country using a one-way plane ticket. I did not really think much about a foreigner's life until November 15th 2018 when I first moved to Brazil on a one-way plane ticket. Every day back then was a reminder that I was not home. I couldn’t communicate well. I had a series of new laws to adhere to or else face immigration consequences. There was a baseline level of anxiety and stress that was higher than almost anything I ever experienced. Every day was a hope and a prayer that nothing would go wrong because I had no capacity to respond to it well if it did.

By God’s grace things eventually became easier as I acculturated, learned Portuguese, and navigated my new surroundings. But I remain a foreigner still today, and I thank God by his grace that I am not an oppressed foreigner. For human history shows how easy it is for foreigners to be blamed and oppressed by the ruling class over them. Israel’s story included that, and when they cried out in Egypt God heard them.

"Do not take advantage of the widow or the fatherless. If you do and they cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry. My anger will be aroused, and I will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children fatherless.” (Ex 22:22-24).

Few people faced tougher circumstances than the widow and orphan in ancient times. They were judged harshly, considered lazy, and many times people blamed them for circumstances that were simply beyond their control. And once again God reaffirms that he is the God of the disadvantaged. As he heard Israel’s cries and before that Hagar’s cries, so he hears the cries of the disadvantaged today.

Jesus’ sweetest promise to his people is that he will not leave us as orphans, but he will come to us. And he has come to us through his Spirit, which literally in Greek is his parakletos, or one who comes alongside another who cries out. Orphans cry out with no one to come to nurse them or aid them. But Jesus has not left us that way, and as his people, we are not to leave others that way either.

As the body of Christ we can only come alongside others who are crying out if we are willing to take the time to get to know them and hear them. That means no longer being full of answers and accusations, and instead being full of compassion, grace, and mercy.

"If you lend money to one of my people among you who is needy, do not treat it like a business deal; charge no interest. If you take your neighbor’s cloak as a pledge, return it by sunset, because that cloak is the only covering your neighbor has. What else can they sleep in? When they cry out to me, I will hear, for I am compassionate” (Ex 20:25-27).

Once again Hanson gives more depth to this command: “[This passage] addresses a major source of impoverishment and misery among the peasant class, namely, inability to pay back loans incurred in purchasing basic essentials such as clothing, food, and seed for the next season’s planting. Contrary to the ubiquitous practice of usury at the time, those covenanted with YHWH were neither to burden debtors with interest nor to hold essential goods as collateral, because the same God who showed his compassion to the Hebrew slaves when they cried to him out of their bondage in Egypt would again act decisively on behalf of those made destitute by their heartless compatriots (A Political History of the Bible in America, 151).

Compassion. Our God defines himself by it. Jesus, when he saw multitudes in his day wandering around like sheep without a shepherd had compassion for them. He also had empathy for friends who mourned the loss of a loved one. In contrast, he had harsh words for those who acted heartlessly against their neighbors, whether it was blocking access to worship at the temple with their money-changing tables or conjuring seemingly pious schemes to avoid caring for their own family members. Jesus presented himself as one who is gentle and humble, offering rest to our souls, for he truly has an easy yoke and a light burden.

Our God is the God of compassion. He cares about the disadvantaged and the oppressed. As his people, we too are bound to live out the character of our God, following in his steps: the one who hears the cries of the oppressed foreigner, the disadvantaged widow and orphan, and the shivering needy. 

Our communities need our witness now as much as ever. Instead of dictating what hangs on the walls of classrooms, let’s focus on how we can proclaim the good news of God’s kingdom to our neighbors. Are we close to the brokenhearted? Are we compassionate? Are we taking up the cause of the oppressed foreigner, the disadvantaged widow and orphan, and the needy among us? God cares about them. He hears their cries. And, if we’re willing to listen, he just may use us as part of his response to them. It’s never too late to change. Just ask Zacchaeus.