The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

The Ten Words
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

This morning’s reading from the Hebrew Scriptures includes what we often call the Ten Commandments. The only time they are mentioned by title within the Scriptures themselves, they are called the Ten Words. Not the Ten Commandments, but the ten words. And when we refer to them as the Decalogue, as we do in the Prayer Book, we are using a Greek word that means “ten words.” Decalogue. The ten words.

I like calling them the ten words. Words communicate. Commandments control. The last few days I’ve been wandering around a relatively random sample of references on the Ten Commandments. One point that many commentators make is that these words are much more about identity than regulation. They are words, God’s words, meant to communicate a peoples’ identity, not a set of commandments meant to regulate a society’s behavior. To say they are words about identity does not diminish their significance. I think it makes them even more important, even more foundational.

I want to share a few general observations about the ten words, and then focus on what we usually call the Third Commandment. In today’s reading it was translated: “You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God.” The Book of Common Prayer presents it in two translations. One is probably the most familiar: “Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain.” Within the context of the Rite 2 service, the Prayer Book translates it: “You shall not invoke with malice the Name of the Lord your God.” The third commandment.

First a few general observations.

You all know, of course, as important as we consider the Ten Commandments to be, that they appear twice in the Hebrew Scriptures. The content in the two places is very similar. The first list, which we heard this morning, does not mention any stone tablets. That’s in a later version of the story, told by the Deuteronomist.

Several commentators point out that there are only ten. Only ten words. With lots of room in between for freedom and grace to intersect.

It occurs to me that if we insist upon casting these words in stone, and we have been doing that for millennia, since the time of the Deuteronomic editor… if we are going to cast these words in stone, it should be a very large stone. A stone of the expanse of a human life, or perhaps even stretching as large as all human culture. A stone that large with just ten words written upon it and lots of space in between. Space where freedom and grace can intersect. But we don’t usually present the ten words that way. Usually we leave no room in between.

Also, if we are going to cast these words in stone, we should bear in mind that there has long been a difference of opinion on how to exactly delineate the ten words.

The Jews count what we would call the introduction as the first word.

Lutherans and Roman Catholics (and that’s a lot of Christians) combine what we would call one and two into one single commandment and then split the tenth. There are always ten. One for each finger, a helpful mnemonic. But the numbering of the ten varies.

So, if you do feel inclined to cast them unchangeably in stone… you need to get your denominational affiliation straight first. Maybe we aren’t meant to cast them in stone. But cherish them in our hearts and lives.

These words are a gift. A gift to be cherished indeed, given from God directly to the people. That’s rare in the Hebrew Scriptures! God speaks directly to the people. With the gift of these words.

God’s first words are: I am the Lord your God. That’s the starting point. We are God’s people. That’s established at the beginning. God does not say: Here is a list of regulations for your behavior. If you manage to follow these regulations, then you can be my people. God starts out. I am the Lord your God. I give you these words as a gift to help you build your identity as my own people, my beloved.

As I browsed the literature on the Ten Commandments, I found a lot of articles on the one about keeping the Sabbath holy. It’s interesting that this one has attracted so much attention, when it is probably the most widely ignored these days. But all those articles reveal something else. This commandment really requires interpretation. It can’t be taken just at face value. But remember it is a description of identity, rather than a regulation of behavior. It identifies us as a people who value the holiness of the Sabbath. But we must interpret what that means for us in our time. Every faith community has had to interpret this “commandment” within the context of their own place and time.

These ten words are an incredibly important foundation upon which we can build our own identity as God’s people, God’s beloved. God’s words are just the starting point. We must do the work of interpreting and building.

The commandment about the Sabbath is one that clearly requires interpretation. But that is really true of all of them. What we call the third commandment also requires interpretation.

Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain.

At some point American civil religion took this word of God’s and turned it into a general prohibition against swearing. This interpretation is really both too limited and too sweeping. Too limited in that being people who revere God’s Name is about a lot more than swearing. And too sweeping in that it has come to be implied—in American civil religion—that the Ten Commandments prohibit all swearing, even the earthier forms of oaths that do not mention God. I’m not advocating vulgar language, but I don’t see how it has anything to do with the Third Commandment.

So how do we interpret this third word in our time, in our lives?

For one thing, remember that names are important. Our own names are important. We value our names. We want people to spell them correctly, to pronounce them correctly. To know someone’s name is to have some level of intimacy or power over them. The telephone caller who knows your name has more power over you than the one who doesn’t. For those of us in relationship with God, God’s Name is important. Don’t use it casually.

Personally, I am much less concerned by the occasional, emotional oath which may name God, than I am by the pervasive casual use in our culture of OMG. OMG. It’s become an acronym, thrown away in casual speech like used tissues. In our day and time using God’s name blasphemously is much less significant than using God’s name indifferently. Do not use God’s Name casually.

Do not take the Lord’s Name in vain. “In vain” in contemporary English usage means futile. Without success. He tried in vain to achieve a world’s record. His efforts were in vain. Without success. Our purposes fail when they are not God’s purposes. One interpretation of using the Lord’s Name in vain would be to seek personal success by using God’s Name. “Branding” our efforts with God’s Name. Do not take your vanity and name it as God’s will. Do not take projects or goals that are your own and call them God’s.

This is tricky, because, of course we do seek to do God’s will, and it’s not always easy to discern what is God’s will and what is ours. We are called to be people whose efforts are offered in God’s name. Which is why it is so important to differentiate our own goals from God’s. Difficult, but important. This commandment requires us to take that task of discernment very seriously.

I gather that the Hebrew word translated “in vain” has to do with something that lacks reality or truth. So in the lives of the early Hebrew people, this third word was interpreted to prohibit perjury. Do not speak words with no truth. And also to prohibit magic. Do not do things that are not real.
One commentator, writing in a dusty version of the Interpreter’s Bible that I have from the 50’s talks about magic and the Third Commandment. The fifties were quite a while ago now, but his words are worth pondering.

"We still are subject to [this] temptation, to belief in the [magical] power of sacred names…. Every minister is tempted to cater to the primitive urge on the part of some in the congregation to hear over and over again certain magic formulas which seem to them to guarantee soundness of faith and comfortable doctrine. Whether the phrase is “the blood of Jesus” or “the brotherhood of man,” it is merely magical when it is used as a spell. Religion for many people consists in the good feeling aroused by the repetition of certain beloved formulas. This type of piety can be recognized by its extreme harshness in the denunciation of those who do not use them. (Or, I might add, in vehement resistance to any change in the formulas.) Its sin is disobedience to the Third Commandment, which forbids the cheap and easy use of the divine name to cover up poverty of real thought and feeling.” (J. Coert Rylaarsdam, Exegesis of Exodus, The Interpreter's Bible, 1952).

Do not use the Lord’s name as a magic talisman to conjure up religious feeling. Do not use the Lord’s Names as a placebo in place of a true relationship with God.

Another writer, an ethicist, writing on this third word: This commandment is “particularly designed to prevent the misuse of the power of religion, the numinous power of the holy, to further one’s own ends at the expense of the life or welfare of others. Like the commandment against idolatry, it provides a check against authoritarian priestcraft, and especially against the use of fear to compel allegiance to religious demands.” (Walter Harrelson, "Decalogue," The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Ethics).

He’s not speaking exclusively of ordained priests. Priestcraft connotes a position of power over others. So this prohibits the use of the Lord’s name as an implement of power, to compel others to your purposes. Do not use the Lord’s name as a weapon.

So, a few ways we might interpret the third word of the Decalogue in our own time.

Do not use the Lord’s name casually.
Do not take your own purpose, your will, and slap God’s name on it.
Do not use the Lord’s name as a magical talisman, as a placebo in place of true religion.
Do not use the Lord’s name (including the Decalogue) as a weapon to compel anyone to do anything.

We cling to the Decalogue because it seems so clear, so easy. It is a wonderful gift, but it is just the beginning. It is the foundation upon which we can build an identity as God’s own, God’s beloved. But we must do the work to build a faithful life upon the foundation God has given us.

But as we do that work, remember the first words God said to his people: I am the Lord, your God. I am the Lord, your God.