Justice
and Mercy in the Old Testament: Part 1
Stephen
Terry
Commentary
for the July 16, 2016 Sabbath School Lesson
“Hear this, you who trample
the needy and do away with the poor of the land, saying, ‘When will the New
Moon be over that we may sell grain, and the Sabbath be ended that we may
market wheat?’—skimping on the measure, boosting the price and cheating with
dishonest scales, buying the poor with silver and the needy for a pair of
sandals, selling even the sweepings with the wheat. The Lord has sworn by
himself, the Pride of Jacob: ‘I will never forget anything they have done.’”
Amos 8:4-7, NIV
Seventh-day Adventists can have a reputation for being
excessively legalistic when it comes to practicing their faith. To be sure,
most will respond that they are saved by their faith and not by their works if
asked, but at times things may go awry between the theology and how people’s
lives play out. A particular example that comes to mind involves the honoring
of the Sabbath of the Fourth Commandment.[i] This commandment invokes a
day of rest for everyone, even the workers, servants and animals were allowed
to rest. Although the Bible is not so particular, Adventists have come to
define that day as the 24-hour period from sundown on Friday to sundown on
Saturday. Most churches publish in their bulletins the exact time of those two
sundowns each week. It is also usually published in the various union
newsmagazines, such as the Pacific Northwest Gleaner.
One can get the feeling that for Adventists, God is watching
from above with a watch with a sweep second hand making sure no one does
anything worldly a single second after sundown on Friday and everyone also
avoids any unnecessary frivolity right up to and including the exact second of
sundown on Saturday. What constitutes worldliness and frivolity is continually
debated. It is most strictly defined perhaps in the parochial school system and
by parents to their young children. We all know that it can be easier to simply
issue rules for children without going too deeply into a “why” they would not
understand. Perhaps this is a caution to us as adults to look beyond simple
rule making to the more fundamental principles behind the rules. There is a
progression of understanding that takes place from the commandment “Do not
kill,” to “Love your neighbor,” and finally to understanding what “love,” “neighbor,”
and even “relationships” mean in context with one another. It is important we
not get lost along the way, stuck in our understanding. That can actually take
us in the opposite direction.
Long ago, I became aware of an Adventist who operated a
business with another Adventist as his faithful employee. Although he was an
elder in his church, he had gotten caught in practicing a legalistic faith. He
had not thought through what he was doing. His employee was not on hourly wages
but a monthly salary. As such, the employer thought that since the Fourth
Commandment said not only to rest for the Sabbath, but also to work six days
per week, his employee’s time other than the Sabbath belonged to him as
employer. Each Friday, he would drop the employee off at his front gate
precisely at sundown, and each Saturday, he would be waiting in his truck at
the front gate at sundown, ready to take the employee back to work. When asked
about it, he pointed out that what he was doing was legal under the
commandment. However, if we understand the two principles undergirding the
Decalogue as love for God, and love for our neighbor, it can perhaps be seen
that empathy and compassion that would allow the man to remain with his family
to enjoy some secular time together was lacking. Love exceeds the requirements
of the commandments. Legalism, on the other hand, sees the letter of the
commandment as the complete fulfilling of any obligation we may have to one
another or even to God.
One of the paradoxes created by legalistic Christianity
is that so many have may have little trouble understanding the spiritual
significance of denying oneself for the purpose of a time of fasting and
prayer. But in reality, this can too easily become an exercise in self-righteousness,
or perhaps “selfish”-righteousness. We deny ourselves something in the belief that
this will bring us closer to God. Then once the exercise is over we return to
what we were doing, maybe with little to show for our effort. Strangely, we may
find it easy to practice such periodic denial, yet when called upon to deny
ourselves for the sake of the needy, we become indignant, feeling that no one
has a right to demand that of us, and why are they poor anyway? Why should we
enable their bad choices in life? Even if we grudgingly give
to the poor and needy, someone must thoroughly vet them first, lest anyone
unworthy sneaks in through the cracks. But such an approach is not only
unbiblical in the light of the Old Testament texts about the poor and needy,[ii] it is also unnatural.
Think how different the world would be if every time we wished to drink from a
water spring, we had to be vetted to see if we were worthy to drink there. Some
of us might starve if every ear of corn demanded purity of intentions before
yielding to being plucked. As nature gives of its bounty to satisfy our need,
we should perhaps find instruction from that example. While some might
reasonably fear that they will not have enough for themselves or their family
if they are so generous, it can be easy to fool ourselves into feeling this way
no matter how much we already possess. We may have an irrational fear of losing
everything if we give anything beyond a pittance to the needy.
This fear can even become institutionalized. For churches this may be seen in
millions contributed in successive annual budgets to maintain an expensive
church plant with sacrificial gifts often made by donors seeking recognition
for their magnanimity, while comparatively very little is sacrificed or
budgeted for the needs of the poor. As a result governments often step in to
provide support for the needy the church has neglected. But the indolent
church, resenting the poor and their needs, often deny the right of the
government to take from them for the poor, calling it coercion or extortion.
Perhaps, like Scrooge in Charles Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol,” they would
rather the poor die “and decrease the surplus population.” But though these may
wear the name of Christian and contribute to some magnificent church building,
they are far from the generosity expected by God in Isaiah, Chapter 58,[iii] or Matthew, chapter 25’s
“Parable of the Sheep and the Goats.”[iv] Instead their attitude is
reflected more in Jesus’ response to the Canaanite woman, when she asked for
help and He told her, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it
to the dogs.”[v]
Perhaps Jesus’ disciples applauded His response to her. After all, they had
placed a wall between themselves and the rest of the world. They may have felt
they would have helped a fellow Israelite, but not a Canaanite.
Perhaps we have also placed a wall between ourselves and
the needy. We may not only be tightfisted toward the poor, but we may also
oppress them in more subtle ways. When they attend our churches, are they
ostracized from our social cliques? Or do we welcome them into our family
gatherings, our dinners out, and our fun activities with friends? Jesus
expected us to.[vi]
We may feel that since they cannot afford our activities, we cannot invite
them. Then we should pay for them to be able to participate. We may feel that because
they do not dress or act as refined as we do that we should not have them in
our homes. But if this is the case, would John the Baptist, the one of whom
Jesus said no one born of women was greater,[vii] have been welcome with
his camel hair and rough manners? Or Jesus, would He have been welcome? Even in
His day, He was ostracized because of those He hung out with.[viii]
It is past time we ceased living our lives of luxury,
and we started making a difference for the poor and needy through our
sacrificial service to their needs. Some might say they are not rich and can
spare nothing, but if our family income is more than the family incomes of two
thirds of those who live on the Earth then we are wealthy whether we choose to
admit it or not. Whether we choose to use that wealth to indulge ourselves or
to bless our neighbor may be one of the most fateful choices we can make. If we
choose wrong, we may one day hear those sad words, “Depart from me, you who are
cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was
hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to
drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you
did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.”[ix] The very ones whom we
turned our backs on will testify against us on that day.[x]
