Good Friday

I am in Paris on vacation with my family, and so my postings may be less frequent. Yesterday was Good Friday, and we visited Notre Dame for a most extraordinary ceremony. For nearly 800 years, Notre Dame has been the home of what many believe is the actual crown of thorns "worn" by Jesus during His Passion. The crown has been encased in gold for eighty percent of its circumference, with the remaining twenty percent or so encased in a clear tube in which it may be seen clearly.

On Good Friday, Catholics assemble in Notre Dame to venerate this relic. We joined this awesome procession. Notre Dame was flooded with tourists taking pictures of those venerating the Crown, and the veneration by each visitor was actually broadcast on big screen TVs inside and outside Notre Dame. For me, this reduced the solemnity of the moment and made it feel more like a trip to a sporting event or some other public spectacle. It was, for me at least, very difficult to be truly focused on the moment, and it felt in some ways like a missed opportunity. 

Also on Good Friday, we visited a small church tucked away on a downtown Paris side street, in which Mary appeared to St. Catherine Laboure. The result of the multiple visits by Our Lady was the creation of the Miraculous Medal. The saint's uncorrupted body is displayed in the small chapel there, and it too was brimming with visitors. This group acted much more like reverent believers than the visitors to Notre Dame, and the atmosphere was, fortunately, much different and far more inspiring.

O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

Ruth

The Book of Ruth is a short book, almost an interlude, unlike anything before it. God does not appear or speak, nor do any angels. It is a single story about one woman, Ruth. Ruth is not from one of the twelve tribes, but she marries a man whose father was from the land of Judah. When her husband and father-in-law die, she accompanies her mother-in-law, Naomi, on her journey back to Judah. Naomi tries to discourage Ruth, since she sees little future for Ruth in Judah, but Ruth insists on remaining with Naomi, saying:

Do not ask me to abandon or forsake you, for wherever you go I will go, wherever you lodge I will lodge, your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Wherever you die, I will die, and there be buried.

Her fidelity to Naomi extends even to her embracing the God of Israel as her God. This passage is so beautiful. It could easily be inserted into a marriage vow, for instance. It is also a wonderfull statement of fidelity and discipleship--a promise to follow without regard to obstacles. 

Ruth is faithful and pious and hardworking. Her story becomes known among the people of Judah. She follows Naomi's guidance and as a result becomes the wife of Boaz, a prominent landowner and kinsman of Naomi. We are told that she bears a son, Obed, whose son is Jesse and whose grandson is David, the future king. Jesus, of course, is of the line of David, through his stepfather, Joseph. So, from a woman not born of the Chosen People, God sends a great king and then, ultimately, the Great King and Savior. This foretells the universality of the salvation that is humanity's through Jesus' birth, death, and resurrection. 

Judges 17-21

The final section of Judges covers several stories involving the tribes of Dan and Benjamin, during a time when, ironically, there was no leader of Israel--no "judge." I believe that the horrors these stories embody result directly from the fact that there was this absence.

First, a layman named Micah hired a Levite to be his household priest, to watch over his personal sanctuary and his household idols. A group of men from the tribe of Dan convince this unnamed Levite to desert Micah and join them as their priest. In doing so, he stole the household idols of Micah. Micah tried to follow with a band of men to recapture his priest and idols, but abandoned the quest when he realized he was outnumbered. Oddly, the story seems to just end there, with no negative consequence for either Micah (for worshipping an idol) or for the Levite for his disloyalty to Micah. 

The narrative switches to the story of another unnamed Levite from Ephraim, who had taken a concubine who was unfaithful to him and fled from him. The Levite followed her to her father's house to reclaim her, and on his return journey home with her he stayed the night with a resident of Gibeah,where the tribe of Benjamin live. But the corrupt men of that city stormed the old man's house in order to abuse the traveling couple. Incredibly (to me at least), the Levite forced his concubine out of the house for the men of Gibeah to ravish and abuse all night. In the morning, he collected her and continued the journey home. There, he killed his concubine and divided her body into twelve pieces that he scattered throughout Israel. Perhaps there is something about the social order that I am not understanding here, but the text refers to this Levite as the concubine's hisband. What husband (what human) abandons their wife to a mob without a fight to be raped and beaten?  Or kills her and carves up her corpse?

The spreading of her remains enflamed the other Israelites to assemble for revenge on Gibeah and the Benjaminites. After a few preliminary defeats, the Israelites prevailed--slaughtering all but 400 Benjaminite men who escaped their wrath. But the Israelites grieved for the near obliteration of one of the twelve tribes, so they slaughtered the inhabitants of a city whose inhabitants had refused to join their revenge mission on Gibeah, sparing only the virgin women of the city. Those virgin women were given to the Benjaminites who had escaped, so that they could begin to repopulate the tribe. Because the surviving Benjaminites outnumbered these captured virgins, the Benjaminites without wives were instructed to kidnap young women dancing in the vineyards at Shiloh as part of the yearly feast for the Lord, which they did. In this way the tribe of Benjamin was restored.

These stories come to us with nameless protagonists and little moral commentary. Perhaps there is a hint about this in the last line of the book:

In those days, there was no king in Israel; everyone did what he thought best.

To my mind "what they thought best" was, in these stories, horrifying and despicable. So, perhaps the lesson is that, left to our own sensibilities about "what is best", we are sure to stray from God's path--to idol worship, to violence, to mindless vengeance, to savagery, to fratricide. We need the Lord's guidance. We need a "judge" to show us the path. We need God's word to nourish and sustain us.

Judges 13-16

The story of Samson is next. Is he Achilles, the sometimes brooding warrior with a physical vulnerability that proves his downfall? Or is he Oedipus, an otherwise good king undone by a prophecy and a riddle, who ends life with his eyes gouged out? Or instead is he Hercules, a man born of woman and a god/angel, who performs superhuman feats of strength? I cannot help thinking of these legends while reading about Samson. He killed a thousand men with the "fresh jawbone of an ass"??!! Are you kidding me? His story just feels different to me than what I've read so far. 

But Samson is, at bottom, a man like me. He is volatile and impulsive. He is brooding and secretive. He is crafty and violent. He is vulnerable. He is a man. He was intended by God. And he was beloved by God, as I am in all my imperfections. One idea I take away from his story is that all of us, even I, can do heroic things, if I only call on God for strength as Samson did. Blinded, humiliated, chained to the temple columns, he called on God for strength and brought the temple down on the Philistines within it, himself included. A final act of trust in God, it brought about the destruction of the temple and his own death as well. It prefigures Jesus, who through his own death destroyed the old temple, and rose again in three days to rebuild it.

Even when I feel defeated, as I have lately, I must remember Samson and remember to call on God for strength.  And to be grateful because He is always there for me. Always.

Judges 9-12

This passage provides a glimpse of an especially flawed character. Abimilech, son of Gideon, assembles a band of shady characters, paying them with silver shekels from the temple of Baal. Together, they murdered Gideon's 70 (!) other sons--all except the youngest, Jotham, who escaped. Jotham warned the citizens of Shechem of what would befall them if they placed their faith in Abimilech. As time passed, a conflict with Shechem arose and Abimilech and his army captured that city and slaughtered its inhabitants in most gruesome ways. He and his army proceeded to the city of Thebez, where he was undone by a woman who dropped half a millstone on his head from a tower that he and his army were storming. To avoid the "shame" of being slain by a woman, Abimilech ordered one of his own men to take his life before his millstone injury killed him. This is presented as God's justice providing an appropriate punishment to Abimilech. Two more judges, Tola and Jair, appear and disappear with hardly a mention, and then Israel falls into the hands of the Ammonites and Philistines because of their unfaithfulness to the Lord. 

For 18 years the Israelites suffered, and at first God turned a deaf ear to their cries for mercy, offended by their disobedience and by their lack of gratitude for all He had done for them. But the Israelites continued to cry out, "We have sinned. Do to us whatever you please. Only save us this day." They cast out the false idols they had been worshipping. In a beautiful image, we learn that the Lord was moved: "He grieved over the misery of Israel." Isn't that an incredible notion? God grieved for the Israelites because their lack of gratitude, their faithlessness, their sinfulness, their turning away from Him, had resulted in deep suffering in their lives. 

Does God grieve for me when I turn away from Him and cause myself to suffer? Does God the Father suffer when I suffer in this way? There was a heresy known as Patripassianism about which I hope to write more at some point. It advanced this notion that God the Father suffers. But there is apparently no room in Catholic doctrine or philosophy for this concept. If God is perfect, He has no lack. Suffering implies a lacking of a sort--an emptiness or absence where happiness or joy or fulfillment should be. Since God lacks nothing, He cannot suffer. Only in the humanness of Jesus Christ does God allow Himself to experience suffering. But God the Father cannot suffer. I find this difficult to accept. Not because God the Father isn't perfect, but because God the Father is a father, like me. It is hard for me to conceive a father NOT suffering in watching his children suffer. This passage, where God "grieved over the misery" of the Israelites is a far more fatherly image to me than the Father I meet in Catholic doctrine. The parables of Jesus, such as the Prodigal Son and the Good Shepherd reinforce this notion of a suffering Father for me.

This passage continues with the story of Jephthah and some other minor judges, leading up to the time of Samson, to be covered in the next passage.

Judges 6-8

Having offended the Lord yet again, and been reduced to misery under the thumb of Midian, the Israelites once more call out to God to deliver them. First, He sends a prophet, unnamed, who points out to them their fault in worshipping a false god. He then sends an angel to Gideon, the "most insignificant" son from the poorest family in Manasseh, directing Gideon to "go with the strength you have and save Israel." Gideon questions the Lord, Who offers a sign to confirm His message. When Gideon realizes that it is truly God with Whom he is conversing, he is afraid. But the Lord comforts him:

Peace be to you! Do not fear! You shall not die!

These words find their echo repeatedly in the Gospels, as we shall see.  At God's direction, Gideon blows his horn, summoning soldiers to join the battle to rescue the Israelites. The Lord guides Gideon to choose only 300 men to take on the many thousands of the enemy. Gideon's horn signals the start of the chaos within the enemy's camp that leads to the Israelites' triumph. After their victory, the Israelites plead with Gideon that he and his descendants might rule over them. But Gideon demurs, telling them, "The Lord must rule over you." After Gideon dies, however, the Israelites "abandon themselves to the Baals."

How is it that God is so patient and merciful--to the Israelites and to me? How often, and how predictably, do I turn away from Him? And yet time and again He has pity on me and rescues me.

Judges 3:7-5

A most joyous St. Patrick's Day to all!  

A theme that we already have covered several times involves a recurring cycle in the relationship between God and the Israelites. Despite all of the blessings they have received from Him, the Israelites offend God by turning away from Him--forgetting His laws and worshiping other gods. God grows angry and the Israelites suffer. Realizing that they have offended God, the Israelites repent and call out to God for assistance. God hears them and rescues them. Rinse and repeat.

In the story of the major judges, which begins with this passage, the cycle repeats itself three times. The Israelites' suffering is longer each time: Othniel delivers them after eight years of suffering; Ehud delivers them after eighteen years; and Deborah and Barak rescue them after twenty years of oppression.

The stories of Ehud and Deborah stand out as something ripped from the movies. They are so unlike the other stories we have encountered so far. 

First, Ehud (the second major judge) slays Eglon, king of Moab, who is very fat. The killing calls to mind a scene from the Godfather movie. It comes off almost as a bit of comic relief, for as Ehud plunges a hidden dagger into Eglon's ample belly:

The hilt also went in after the blade, and the fat closed over the blade because [Ehud] did not withdraw the dagger from [Eglon's] body.

Years later, Deborah, prophetess and judge of Israel, teams with Barak to deliver Israel from Jabin, the king of the Canaanites. Sisera, the general of Jabin's army, flees in defeat at the hand's of Barak into the camp of Heber and his wife, Jael. When Sisera fell asleep, Jael:

got a tent peg and took a mallet in her hand. When Sisera was sound asleep, she stealthily approached him and drove the peg through his temple down into the ground, so that he perished in death.

Horrible, yet darkly comic in a way. Eventually, Jabin lost his grip on the Israelites and was destroyed, bringing 40 years of peace to Israel. Othniel, Ehud, Barak, and Deborah are referred to as judges, but their role is to save the Israelites from themselves--from the suffering they have brought on themselves by their disobedience and by their turning away from God. 

No matter how far--and how often--I stray from Him, God constantly sends people into my life to remind me of His love, and to try to set me (back) on the straight path. It is very humbling to consider this, as I am often reminded that, like the Israelites, I have done nothing to deserve this. God has simply chosen me for some reason--to create, to love, to forgive, to bless. All there is to do is to be thankful, and to show His love and mercy to others as best I can.

Pope Francis

We have a Pope! I have only just begun to read the news accounts this morning, so all I have are ally impressions, but here goes....  I think this is in some ways a radical departure from what has gone before. JPII was almost certainly a saint. BXVI was in many ways a continuation of JPII. A brilliant theologian following a philosopher. Both nonItalian Europeans who, together, constituted a definitive break from the centuries-long grip the Italians had on the Papacy. And now the cardinals have gone to the other side of the world for the next Pope. A man of seeming great humility. Not a well-published scholar. Even in his initial appearance on the balcony he opted not to follow certain traditions. He did not wear all of the pieces of clothing typical for the occasion. He asked the people to pray for him before he blessed them. He prayed together with the people for BXVI, using the simplest, most common prayers available so that every Catholic listening could actively participate. And that name! God called St. Francis of Assisi to "rebuild my Church which is in ruins." It cannot be a coincidence that this Pope chose that name at a time when certain aspects of the Church need rebuilding--maybe even need fumigation. May God guide him. As the product of a Jesuit education, I am also tickled that Francis is a Jesuit. That he is a member of that incredible order, and yet took the name of the founder of a different and equally renowned order is significant, I think, in terms of desire for unity across the Church. May the Holy Spirit be with him.

Judges 1-3:6

With Joshua's death, the last of the generation that experienced the Lord's deliverance of the Israelites out of Egypt is gone. Here, in Judges, it is an angel of the Lord who delivers God's message to the people--not one of their own. The Israelites gain some victories over inhabitants of Canaan. The brothers Judah and Simeon, for example, defeat the Canaanites and the Perizzites, and in doing so cut off the thumbs and big toes of Adonibezek. How horrifying. But the Israelites choose to live side by side with some of the tribes in Canaan--in disobedience to God's command to Moses and Joshua that the Israelites put them allot the sword. Over time, the Israelites forget God's commands, and they assimilate with these peoples and begin to worship their gods. They forget the Lord and all He has done for them. They abandon Him. As a result, the Lord becomes angry with them and allows them to fall under the power of certain plunderers until they are in great distress. The Lord periodically sends a judge to them to get them back on the right path, which they would do, at least temporarily. But upon a judge's death, they relapse into a worse state than before. Therefore, the Lord allows certain people's to remaining Canaan to challenge and thwart the Israelites. 

How often I relapse, forgetting all the good that God has done for me. I forget God's promise to me, His faithfulness, His mercy. When this happens, I don't look for "false gods" to worship--at least I don't think I do. Instead, I am more like Adam in Eden--I hide my face from Him. 

Joshua 22-24

The men from the two-and-a-half tribes of Israel who had settled east of the Jordan are released with Joshua's blessing to return to their homes, having kept their promise to Moses. A misunderstanding later arises on the part of the tribes that remain in Canaan regarding an altar the eastern tribes build on their side of the Jordan. This misunderstanding nearly leads to bloodshed, but dialogue and trust between the tribes lead to a peaceful and productive resolution. The altar built in the east was meant as a remembrance of the true altar that houses the Ark--not a competing sanctuary. Trust and dialogue within our Church, and among various Christian denominations, are critical in helping us all ultimately find our way to Jesus.  

As Joshua nears the end of his life, he recounts to the Israelites all the blessings and wonders God has done for them from the time of Abraham to the present, and says:

Now acknowledge with your whole heart and soul that not one of all the promises the Lord, your God, made to you has remained unfulfilled. Every promise has been fulfilled for you, with not one single exception.

Indeed, our God is a faithful God. 

Joshua reminds the people to "fear the Lord and serve him completely and sincerely."  Describing for the Israelites the choice they face--to serve either the Lord or the false gods of the past--Joshua puts his own choice simply and beautifully:

As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.

Soon after, Joshua dies. But not before reminding the people, yet again, that they must serve the Lord by following His law, His statutes, and His decrees.

Joshua 19-21

At the door of the meeting tent at Shiloh, the division of the promised land among the families of the tribes of the Israelites continues. My father has always been a movie fan--Westerns especially. I seem to remember growing up that Shiloh was a commonly used name in those movies. And now I know its origin. Seems fitting, I guess, as the concept of the US as a kind of promised land, the notion of Manifest Destiny that underlay one view of Westward Expansion, has some commonality with the story of the Israelites and Canaan. And certainly there was political benefit to be had by tying the two things together in peoples' minds. 

In this passage, once the division of the promised land is completed, the narrative pauses for a reminder of how all of the Lord's promises to the people, through Moses and Joshua, had been fulfilled:

Not a single promise that the Lord made to the house of Israel was broken; every one was fulfilled.

Our God is a God who keeps His promises. He has promised everlasting life. He has promised that if we call on Him, He will be here for us. He is faithful. 

Joshua 13-18

We continue with what I must confess is for me the least inspiring sections of the Old Testament to date. Joshua affirms the division of the land just outside Canaan to two and one-half of the twelve tribes, and then begins the process of dividing the promised land among the remaining tribes. This is done in accordance with the instructions of Moses before he died. 

Tomorrow begins the conclave to elect a new Pope. The media is very focused on the "horse race" aspect of it, which I suppose is human nature. But I hope and trust that the Holy Spirit is at work this week through the assembled cardinals, flawed humans as they are. And that they are inspired by the Holy Spirit to select the man we need for the job at a critical time in Church history. I will certainly be praying for that.

One message that has been coming to me very strongly this last week or two has been "do not be afraid." As I alluded to in a prior post, I am in a period right now of being afraid. And yet it seems everywhere I turn--this past Sunday's readings, songs on the radio, comments of support from loved ones--I can hear God's voice encouraging me to put aside my fear and trust Him. It is very, very difficult for me. But I will keep trying and praying for courage and trust. 

Joshua 9-12

The story of the Israelites' conquest of the Promised Land continues, as, with God's help, they engage and defeat 31 kings and their kingdoms. In doing so, they overcome superior numbers and a number of confederations among kings. And at the Lord's instruction, they slaughter every man, woman and child in those kingdoms (save Rahab and her family, as noted previously). What a horrifying swath of bloodshed they cut through the land. I understand that at some level this must be a metaphor for the ultimate triumph of God's kingdom, for the importance of trusting in Him and being "firm and steadfast." But it also reads like a remorseless and sickening annihilation. I just don't know what to make of it, honestly. It plays into my own fear that, as a sinner, if I stray too far from God, I might be viewed as one of these enemy kingdoms--outside the walls of His protection. Jesus, by His death and Resurrection, is the new covenant that God has promised us--promised me. And I do believe it. But reading passages like this still really scares me.         

Joshua 5-8

Two important rituals precede the Israelites first battle for the Promised Land. First, because no men were circumcised during the forty-year exile in the desert, all submit to the knife.  Then, they celebrate Passover. On that same day, the manna from heaven that had fed them during their long journey ceases. To demonstrate His presence and commitment to them, the Lord sends an angel with a sword to lead the Israelites into battle, who announces, "I am the captain of the host of the Lord and I have just arrived."  Why "just arrived", I wonder? Isn't God always there for us? Perhaps the angel chooses these words to remind us that while God is always present and available for us, He comes to us in a special way when we are in need. 

What follows is a great story of how the walls of Jericho come down as a result of the Israelites blowing ram's horns and shouting, as they had been instructed by the Lord through Joshua. And then they massacred the people of the city--every last one except the family of Rahab, the harlot, who had aided the scape of Joshua's spies. But despite all He had done for them, the Israelites--or at least one of their number--disobeyed the Lord's precise instructions about hauling off booty from the city. He withdraws his aid and the Israelites are (temporarily) rebuffed at Ai. The Lord insists to Joshua that he find and remove the disobedient person. A man named Achan, of the tribe of Judah, is found to be the plunderer, and he is taken to the Valley of Achor, where he is stoned to death by the Israelites. The Israelites then conquer Ai in a rousing battle scene, using an ambush per the Lord's instructions to secure the city. Joshua built an altar to the Lord, and in the presence of the Israelites, Joshua wrote the law on to unhewn stones as God had instructed  Moses. Joshua then "read aloud all the words of the law, the blessings and the curses, exactly as written in the book of the law. Every single word that Moses had commanded, Joshua read aloud to the entire community." 

As we have seen, time and time again, the Lord reminds the Israelites, by word, action, and ritual, that the law is and must be central to their lives--impacting every aspect of their existence. This is no less true for me personally. God's Word, His message through this Bible and through His Son, as intermediated through His (far from perfect) Church, must guide my life. It must not just be reflected or observed in my actions, but it must also penetrate to my soul. 

Joshua 1-4

According to the introduction in my New Catholic translation, the Book of Joshua is "a prophecy of the spiritual conquest of the world through the Church under the leadership of Jesus, the Messiah." This reinforces my own tendency so far to understand the Old Testament through the prism of Jesus and the New Testament. Early in this book, the Lord repeats multiple times these words of encouragement: Be firm and steadfast. The Catholic Church is at a crucial juncture. The Throne of St. Peter is empty. And this has not happened in the usual way. Rather, BXVI has left the office by resignation, not death. During Lent. And while we trust in the Holy Spirit, there are many of us who are nonetheless unsettled by it all. We need to be reminded to be firm and steadfast. And why should we be? The Lord explains to Joshua why:

I command you: be firm and steadfast! Do not fear nor be dismayed, for the Lord, your God, is with you wherever you go.

I am unsettled in certain aspects of my own life. I am afraid and dismayed. These words come to me at a propitious time. I need to be firm and steadfast, because God is with me wherever I go. 

This section of Joshua has the story of the "harlot" Rahab, who protects the spies sent by Joshua. To repay her, those spies promise that she and her family will come to no harm when the Israelites cross the Jordan to make war on its inhabitants. At their direction, she hangs a scarlet cord in her window, so the invaders will know which family to spare. The red cord echoes the blood painted over the doors of the Israelites in Egypt to signal to the angel of death to pass over their house during the final, awful plague brought on by Pharaoh's intransigence. Led by Joshua, the Israelites follow the ark to the Jordan, where the river is parted for them--echoing the crossing of the Red Sea out of slavery. 

The Israelites pass through the water in safety to escape slavery, and again to reach the promised land. I am reminded of how we are saved from the slavery of sin and death through the waters of baptism. 

Deuteronomy 31-34

Deuteronomy ends with the final words, and then the death and burial, of Moses. How fitting that the Pentateuch's bookends are Adam and Moses. One was responsible for man being cast out of Paradise. The other responsible for leading God's people to the Promised Land. At God's command, Moses teaches the people a song that they are to sing and to teach to the generations that follow. It is a song of God's anger and the consequences of the Israelites' eventual turning away from God, which God has foretold. It is a song of bitterness and regret. He commissions and consecrates Joshua as his successor, at God's command. Then, in a poignant moment, Moses ascends Mt. Nebo in order to view the Promised Land, which he is forbidden from entering. Moses gives a final blessing to the tribes, except the tribe of Simeon. (Why that tribe is omitted, I cannot tell.)  And then he dies and is buried and is mourned.  Thereafter, his successor, Joshua, "is filled with the spirit of wisdom" and the Israelites give him their obedience. 

The book ends with a short, yet powerful, statement of praise for Moses, which in part reads: Since then no prophet has arisen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. None until Jesus.

Deuteronomy 27-30

Moses gathers the people together to give his final words before they cross the Jordan into the land that God has promised them, the land of milk and honey. Moses powerfully lays before them the stark choice they have going forward: they may heed the voice of the Lord and observe His commandments, or they may turn away from Him and ignore His laws. The consequences of that choice are immense. God promises that obedience will result in many blessings for the Israelites and their descendants--victories, prosperity, and fruitfulness. Indeed, among the blessings promised are the words that will later be spoken of the Mother of Jesus: "Blessed be the fruit of your womb." But woe to Israel if they do not heed the commandments, statutes, and decrees, for the ramifications are dire: sickness, invasion, defeat, plagues, famine, and exile. The Lord will "scatter you among all the nations from one end of the earth to the other." The famine will be so great that fathers will eat heir children and mothers will consume newborn babies. This parade of horribles is truly frightening. I had a difficult time reading it all the way through. Yet God still leaves the door open for salvation. If at some point this suffering nation ponders these things in their hearts, and returns to the Lord and heeds His voice, He will have pity on them, gather them back together, and once again make them prosperous and numerous, as He once promised their fathers. He will again open their hearts so that they "may love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, and so may live." 

Here, God is terrifying. He is demanding and jealous. Yet in the end, He is merciful and patient. He waits (although not always patiently, Moses suggests) for us to turn back and come home to Him. This section ends with these powerful words from God regarding the choice He has put before the Israelites:

I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse.  Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live, by loving the Lord, your God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him.

I love the image of "holding fast to him." Sometimes, I am afraid. I must learn to cling to him then especially.

Deuteronomy 18-26

The Lord's instructions to the Israelites, through Moses, cover much ground in this section--ground that was largely covered in earlier books as well.  In the context of reminding them about the Lord's decrees, statutes and commandments, Moses exhorts the people to "be altogether sincere toward the Lord, your God." Near the end of this section, Moses restates this idea: "Be careful, then, to observe [God's statutes and decrees] with all your heart and with all your soul." It is not nearly enough to simply follow the rules, but I must do so with a sincere and loving heart. 

Moses predicts the future coming of a greater prophet, Jesus. On God's behalf, Moses repeats to the Israelites words that God spoke to him:

I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their kinsmen, and will put my words into his mouth; he shall tell them all that I command him.

God's tenderness and fidelity toward the Israelites is in stark contrast to the very harsh treatment God reserves for those who do not follow his commands, and for those nations who stand between the Israelites and the Promised Land. For the unjust, there awaits "life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot." For those cities in the land that God has promised to the Israelites, there is to be the slaughter of every soul. For the incorrigible son, the cheating spouse, and the rapist, they shall be stoned to death. Very intimidating and, frankly, frightening.  

But the discussion turns back to the many blessings the Israelites have from the Lord.  Moses directs the Israelites to celebrate a thanksgiving feast when they enter the Promised Land. A key to this feast is the retelling of the story of the Israelites, from the settlement and eventual slavery in Egypt to their deliverance into "the land of milk and honey." Celebrating the story of God's goodness is integral to the social and religious fabric of the community. The Israelites are told to "make merry over all these good things which the Lord, your God, has given you." 

Indeed, for me, when following God seems complicated, I try to fall back on thankfulness. It is easy to see that He has given me so very much, and the simplest (although not always easiest) thing for me to do is to thank Him for it.

Deuteronomy 14-17

The Book of Deuteronomy continues with Moses' explication of the laws by which the Israelites are to govern themselves in Canaan. We see a continuation of certain currents. The Israelites are a specially chosen people. God is a jealous God, who prescribes harsh punishment for those who worship other gods. The Israelites are to treat each other justly and mercifully, as God has treated them. 

Two elements of this passage took my thoughts immediately to the New Testament.

Instructing the Israelites about how to deal with a person in the community who "does evil in the sight of the Lord" by serving or worshipping other gods, Moses teaches that the punishment is stoning, but only after two or three witnesses have testified against the perpetrator.  He continues:

At the execution, the witnesses are to be the first to raise their hands against him; afterward all the people are to join in.

I am reminded of the woman caught in adultery brought before Jesus by the Jewish leaders, who were trying to trap Him. When He suggested that the person in the community who had no sin cast the first stone, the people who had gathered drifted away and she was spared.  God is just; God is merciful. The way these two truths are juxtaposed, both in the Old and New Testaments is very mysterious to me.

Moses also spoke of the possibility that the Israelites might subject themselves to governance by a king. He directs with regard to that king:

Nor shall he make his people go back again to Egypt to acquire [horses], against the Lord's warning that you must never go back that way again.

St. Joseph is described as a man of faith in the New Testament. I think back to his being told in a dream by God, shortly after Jesus' birth, to take the baby and Mary to Egypt. It deepens my awe and admiration for his faith in God, as that dream and that instruction from God must have gone against his instincts based on everything he had been taught and had heard from Scriptures his whole life.  That is trust in the Lord. If only I had just a tiny fraction of that trust.