The Third Sunday in Lent - March 8

Recipe for a Feast
Exodus 20:1-17
Psalm 19

“Then God spoke all these words.” God spoke to the people of Israel through Moses on Mount Sinai.

God didn’t number them. And, at least in this passage, God didn’t “give commandments.” What God did was speak some words. A simple list of words.

You may know that different faith groups split and number this list of words differently. Jews, Catholics, Lutherans, most other Protestants… list the so-called Ten Commandments differently. They appear twice, both here and in the fifth chapter of Deuteronomy. Especially if you look at both versions combined, you can count as many as 14 or 15 different words. God wasn’t going for ten. Various faith groups merge and combine them differently to get ten, one for each finger. Ten is a mnemonic, not a divine decree. All of this is just a reminder that we really should be cautious about casting them in stone.

And God doesn’t “give” them as commandments. Not only that, as one commentator reminds us, “the [so-called] Ten Commandments specify no judicial consequences for disobedience. Their being obligatory is not conditional on their being enforceable. Their appeal is to a deeper grounding and motivation: these are the commands of the Lord your God, who has created you and redeemed you” (Terence E. Fretheim, HERE).

There are no judicial consequences set out for disobedience. Unlike the laws of our civic life where specific punishments are prescribed for breaking any law, there are no judicial consequences set out for breaking any of the commandments. They are not enforceable.

So why would we keep them? What might motivate us to take these words seriously in our lives? There are a number of possible answers to that question:

We might see them as an obligation taken on out of a sense of gratitude. The context for that comes from Scripture where God speaks these words after reminding the people that he is the God who brought them out from Egypt, who liberated them from slavery. So if God brought us out of Egypt, the least we can do in gratitude is to try to follow his commandments.

Or we might follow them purely out of a sense of duty or reverence. God gave them to us. That should be enough motivation. And it should be.

Or many people might say that as individuals, and as a society, we need some sort of ethical norms. We need a moral compass. And regardless of the faith perspective, these seem pretty sound.

All of these are good reasons to take these words of God’s seriously, but what’s still missing for me is a sense of eagerness, a positive desire that might motivate me to take these words to heart. So I’m going to offer an extended metaphor. Another way to imaginatively think about the commandments.

Think of this list of words, not as a list of commands, but as a list of ingredients in a recipe for a glorious feast. A feast that will taste delicious, bring deep satisfaction. Something that’s just really, really good! That feast is what it’s like to live in relationship with God, to live into our vocation as people made in the image of God. As being God’s own.

These 10 or 14 or 15 words are the ingredients that combine in us to create something wonderful. They are not a duty or an obligation or a burden. They are ingredients for stewing up goodness.

And each ingredient is important. Have you ever made a batch of cookies and left out the ¼ teaspoon of salt? It’s only a ¼ teaspoon! And cookies don’t seem like they should need salt. It’s easy to let it go. But it makes a difference. The cookies don’t taste right without the salt. They’re not good. The whole batch is off, and you’ve missed out on a treat. The same thing happens if you fail to rest on the Sabbath.

On the other hand, imagine if you added ¼ teaspoon cayenne to a chocolate chip cookie recipe. The end result would not be very satisfying. The taste would be spoiled. The same thing happens if you acquire things in life by stealing them from others.

It’s not a perfect metaphor and it can’t be pushed too far. But for me it provides a positive motivation to cherish and live these words.

And, interestingly, in Luther’s small catechism as he describes the meaning of each “commandment” he also adds a positive interpretation on all of them. Even those that are prohibitions—thou shalt not—he casts in the positive. So all of the words become positive ingredients.

For example: You shall not steal. Luther interprets this to mean “we may not take our neighbor’s money or goods, nor get them by false ware or dealing, but help him to improve and protect his property and business.”

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. Luther says, “we may not deceitfully belie, betray, slander, nor defame our neighbor, but defend him, speak well of him, and put the best construction on everything.”

Positive ingredients, that combined in us create a life of joy and profound satisfaction, a life in good relationship with God.

The commandments were never meant to be immutable, unchangeable for all time. In fact, the list in Deuteronomy a bit different from the one in Exodus, perhaps reflecting changing social norms. In Exodus the neighbor’s wife is in a list of the neighbor’s property, somewhere between the house and the donkey. In Deuteronomy she is listed on her own, perhaps reflecting a slight shift in the status of women.

These words are also not comprehensive. These are the basic ingredients for all of us in our lives, but beyond these we have our own individual ingredients that we add to our lives. Some enrich, some spoil the feast of our life.

One way to look at Lenten disciplines is as a practice of adding or subtracting the ingredients in the recipe of our own lives. What ingredients in our daily lives are spoiling the feast of our relationship with God, and should be excluded from the mix? Or what ingredients do we need to add to make the richness and goodness come out?

Maybe you need a pinch more silence? Or maybe for some people, you need a bit less silence and a little more conversation.

Maybe you need to add a cup more prayer or worship. Or maybe you need to find a way to eliminate whatever it is that makes you angry. Anger spoils the taste of most everything.

Or, thinking about today’s psalm, maybe you need little more time with the stars or other parts of God’s creation? Rejoicing with them and singing along in their praise of God? Maybe a little less time in front of the TV. Maybe your life would be richer with fewer things that need to be insured? And more things that need to be shared.

This Lent, think about the ingredients of your life. Are they the recipe for a feast? What ingredients are missing and need to be added? What needs to be omitted? You still have time to adjust your recipe before the grand paschal feast of Easter.