Sermon Ideas For Deuteronomy 6:1-9 Part 1

The scribes of the world always want to know whether "new" things make sense. Do they have a core, an organizing principle? Only things that do can be grasped by the mind and communicated. Scribes suspect that they do not. They doubt that there could be a simple gist of the matter. They may follow a faith, but they do so as an irrational leap, or as family or ethnic tradition.

If there is nothing at the core, of course, then there is nothing serious to change. Various claims and opinions are a dime a dozen--some are attractive and some are not. Even if tiny gems sometimes sparkle, we have only bits of insight or cleverly construed perspectives. None may be entirely false; but they have no capacity to grasp truth or to guide justice, no power to change lives or to reorder civilization, no ability to persuade minds or vitalize loyalties.

But if there is a heart to it all, then we can see what is of first importance, what is secondary, and what is of lesser weight. The deep design of life and thought would be disclosed, and the repetitiveness and triviality of experience becomes susceptible to transformative ordering. The rich complexity of belief, of morality, and of worship would no longer remain a multitude of bewildering thoughts, discrete obligations or ritualized behaviors, they would allow us to see a dynamic with an order to it. We could see what might, indeed, what ultimately does, and what finally must organize the rest of life.

The need for restating the core of things, and to do so in new ways, appears in every generation. Memories seldom transcend a generation, and the senses of priority are brief. Without nurture, they fade quickly. This was recognized by the ancient Hebrews. They had been called to be a Covenant People. The decisive sign of this holy vocation was the fact that they were given the Laws of God in the time of Moses. They were to be witnesses to the world, living under the laws of God and for the purposes of God.

But much of the Biblical story is the narrative of how those most blessed avoided the implications of their calling. They turned their mandate into lists of laws to govern thought. They developed elaborate rites to govern spirituality. They forgot the core of the covenant.

Yet, in a time of priestly, prophetic and political recovery, the ancient commandments were reclaimed. They were recast for their day. Here was no mere "traditionalism." New rationales for the principles were given so that new generations who asked new questions could recognize what was perennially valid (as we can see when one compares the Ten Commandments of Exodus 20 with those of Deuteronomy 5 closely).

The people no longer faced the crises of survival as escaped slaves, but the crisis of a complex civilization with new international relationships. In that context, this "second law giving" not only recalled the past, it reconstituted the present: "Not with our fathers (only) did the Lord make this covenant, but with us, who are all of us here alive this day" (Dt 5:3).

Further, with this renewal of the covenantal ideal came also a new statement of the core, of the organizing principles that are to inform the whole. Thus, in our text from Deuteronomy, we find the famous Shema, "you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might." Rightly understood, the gospel of the love of God is present among the people of God when they renew their pledge to live under the laws of God, for in them we can see the purpose and mercy of God.

These in turn were reinforced by instructions that people were ever to keep them immediately at hand, right before their eyes, and at the very portals of their dwellings. The attempt to renew the covenant was made. Its core was restated, and the means for carrying it out were set forth.

Human efforts at covenant renewal do not last forever. Still, they keep alive the vision of a new covenant, of a new way of thinking about a "public theology," of a way of recognizing the responsibility to build a moral society--not on the basis of negotiated interests or some natural hierarchy or some group's privilege; but on the foundation of God's universal moral law.

In this the point is clear: Covenantal renewal takes place not from the top down, nor even from the bottom up; but from the inside out. (Even the honored traditions of worship can be set aside, as our text from Hebrews shows.) The love of God and the love of neighbor is the core. Love is the inner principle of obedience; justice is the outer form of love.

It is to that text that Jesus turns to respond to the scribe who questioned him about whether there was a core to the Torah. Christ's response to this opponent, who must have known these traditions and tried to obey them with their many rules and rites, was to recall and recast what the man already knew. He re-called him to covenant and to the love behind it. In Christ, the covenant is renewed in a new, definitive way.

But note, the Shema is altered. It is certified not only by a love that comes from the heart, from the soul, or from the physical energy that we have; it is also to be certified by a love that comes from the mind. Finally we can see that matters of this sort are not contrary to reason. Even the cultured despisers can recognize what is at stake. The scribes--the clerics, prophets, scholars, and pundits of all kinds--are to love God also with their mind. Whoever grasps this is not far from God's reign.

Max. L. Stackhouse Andover Newton Theological School