So, the ten commandments. Where to begin?
The Hebrew scriptures use the phrase aseret hadibrot twice. It translates as ‘ten statements’ or ‘ten utterances’. When translated from Hebrew into Greek, it becomes dekalogos which means ‘ten words’. Early English translations of the scriptures varied, with some writing ‘ten verses’ but it was the King James Version that won out, with its use of the term ‘ten commandments’. I’m going to use the phrase, because it’s one we all understand, but it’s good to remember that when we say ‘the ten commandments’ it is an inaccurate translation of the Hebrew.
If you go looking in the Hebrew scriptures for a list of the Ten Statements, you’ll find three accounts. The first one, which we heard today, is from when Moses goes up the mountain. The second, in Exodus 34, is from when Moses has come down from the mountain, seen the people worshipping a golden calf built by his brother, and smashed the stone tablets that God gave him, so Moses makes a second set, and God writes on them again, and restates the covenant. The third account is in the book of Deuteronomy, when Moses is having a rough time with the Israelites, so he gets them together and reinforces the Ten Statements.
Of course, all three accounts are different. Sometimes subtly different, and sometimes completely different. So Jews, Christians and Muslims have tended to use a synthesis of the three as a kind of teaching tool or memory aide.
A side by side comparison of the three accounts of the Ten Statements is important work – just as its important to compare the four gospels side by side. But, as you know, I am just a simple bible-believing Christian, so I want to read the actual text of the scriptures, not a neatly numbered summary, no matter how useful it might be. Today we are reading Exodus 20. So let’s read Exodus 20.
Who are we kidding? Let’s consider a couple of things in Exodus 20, otherwise we’ll be here all day.
The first thing that might not be immediately evident from the English text, is that God has a name. It is rendered in Hebrew with no vowels, and it is forbidden for Jews to say it. Some translators render it Yahweh or Jehovah so that it’s clear that it is a name, not a title. This is completely wrong, but they do it anyway. Jews say HaShem which means ‘the name’ so you can talk about God’s name without saying God’s name. I will say HaShem for that reason.
The next thing we might miss is that the Ten Statements don’t portray HaShem as the one and only God, the creator of the universe. They actually presuppose a multitude of gods. HaShem is the God of the Israelites, and they are not to worship any of the other gods, including any statues they might make, because HaShem is a jealous god and if they reject HaShem then the punishment will flow down to their great-grandchildren.
Then what do we discover? The Israelites are not to make wrongful use of the name of HaShem. You may have been taught it as ‘You shall not take the name of the Lord in vain’.
What does this even mean?
Well, the name of God was frequently invoked in curses and oaths. In the book of Numbers, there is a description of the oath a woman must take if she is accused of adultery (men, of course, are excused this humiliation). The expectation is that an oath made in the name of HaShem will result in punishment if it is betrayed. There are other examples in the Books of Samuel and Jeremiah in which people emphasise promises or claims with the name of HaShem, presumably with the same expectation of a punishment if they lie. In Leviticus, the people are advised against misusing God’s name when it comes to business transactions.
So what is going on in this story, in its historical and literary context?
The book of Exodus as we know it was compiled during the Babylonian Exile. This was when the first temple had been destroyed, and all the temple practices and the priesthood had been discontinued. The Israelites were in exile in Babylon. The purpose of writing down these texts was to preserve the stories which had previously been a collection of oral and written histories held by the temple authorities. This enabled the Israelites to keep in touch with their faith and heritage in a foreign land.
In Babylon, there many gods. There were idols and temples and worship of these other gods. There were different cultures and different morality. It was vital that the understanding of HaShem as the Israelite god was preserved, even as the Israelites were inter-marrying and integrating into Babylonian society. Perhaps many Israelites were taking on the religious practices of their new families. Perhaps they were learning how to do sneaky business deals and how to twist the truth to get themselves out of trouble..
I suspect that what we have in this statement about misusing God’s name is a glimpse of the unfolding understanding that God is entirely on the side of truth and integrity. That our natural tendency to lie and obfuscate and selfishly distort the facts is not holy. That there is a way that is better than the subterfuge and exploitation that marks so many human interactions.
HaShem insisted on truth and integrity in both words and behaviour. Fidelity to the truth was not just a nice idea, but a divine imperative.
So you see, this commandment about not misusing God’s name, or not taking it in vain, isn’t merely about not saying the odd swear or OMG or even taking an oath in a courtroom. It is about instilling an obligation to be honest and transparent in dealings with others, to have integrity in relationships. In fact, all the commandments are about this in some way, whether it’s to honour our family elders or to not murder or steal or covet.
Alongside the world’s many ills and sufferings this past week, it has been hard to escape the scandal associated with the Attorney General of Australia, formerly our state Attorney-General and, for many of us, our former local member of parliament. Whatever one’s opinion of the characters in the tragic narrative, it seems almost impossible to hold in tension two things that are inherently good. On the one hand, we absolutely must believe people when they report an assault. On the other, we cherish due process, which is now out of reach, with seemingly no alternative willing to be explored.
None of us can reach a verdict in this tragic, public case. But we can take responsibility for our own words and actions, for our dealings with others, and for the expectations we place on others about how they relate to us. Those Israelites in Babylon, and their forebears in the desert, were trying to work out how to live as godly, moral people. They often didn’t get it right, and their successors through the ages have often gotten it wrong. We, too, get it wrong all the time.
But I think the point isn’t being perfect or being right. It’s trying, every day, to be honest with ourselves, be honest about ourselves, and to be truthful with others. When we do, we draw a little closer to God, and God surely comes close to us.
The Lord Be With You