“The Lord made his people very fruitful, and made them stronger than their foes, whose hearts he then turned to hate his people, to deal craftily with his servants” (Ps 105:24–25). These words appear in the psalm that is offered by the Revised Common Lectionary this coming Sunday (Ps 105:1–6, 23–26, 46b).
“Dealing craftily” is presented as something quite negative; a characteristic of the way that the “foes” of Israel deal with the “servants” of the Lord. The reference is made in the course of providing a summation of one part of the Joseph episode within the overall story of Israel that is told by this psalm.
In the course of the 45 verses of this psalm, there are summaries of key episodes in this story, from the ancestral covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (vv.7–11), through the times involving the elderly Jacob, his sons, the famine in Canaan, and the rescue provided by Joseph in Egypt (vv.12–25), on to the period of Moses and Aaron (vv.26–36), the Exodus from Egypt and wilderness wandering (vv.37–42) and then the entry into the land of Canaan (vv.43–45).
This lyrical retelling of the story of Israel fits it well for singing on the first day of Passover, remembering the escape from slavery in Egypt. However, the portion offered by the lectionary this Sunday tells of a time prior to that, when “Israel came to Egypt; Jacob lived as an alien in the land of Ham” (v.23). Of that period, the psalmist sings that “the Lord made his people very fruitful” (v.24).
This presumably reflects the time after the severe famine in Canaan (Gen 43:1), when, after various machinations, Jacob and his family relocate to Egypt, and Joseph, having revealed his true identity to his family (Gen 45:1–5), “settled his father and his brothers, and granted them a holding in the land of Egypt, in the best part of the land, in the land of Rameses, as Pharaoh had instructed; and Joseph provided his father, his brothers, and all his father’s household with food, according to the number of their dependents” (Gen 47:11–12).
Of course, soon after this, famine hit Egypt as well (Gen 47:13). Joseph’s scheme for surviving the famine works (Gen 47:14–26), the country survives, and “Israel settled in the land of Egypt, in the region of Goshen; and they gained possessions in it, and were fruitful and multiplied exceedingly” (Gen 47:27). This bounty is reiterated in the opening chapter of Exodus, which declares that “the Israelites were fruitful and prolific; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them” (Exod 1:7).
All of this is conveyed in the highly compressed summation of the psalm, “the Lord made his people very fruitful” (Ps 105:24). But then, according to the psalmist, the Lord turned the hearts of the Egyptians “to hate his people, to deal craftily with his servants” (Ps 105:25). This marries with the way that the narrative continues in Exodus, which notes that “a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph”, and so “they set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labour” (Exod 1:11).
The Egyptians are described as acting “shrewdly” (Exod 1:10). Is this the same as the psalmist’s note that the foes of Israel “dealt craftily” with them (Ps 105:25)? The Hebrew word used in the quasi-historical narrative of Exodus is chakam, which is most often translated as “act wisely”. Thus it is applied to Solomon (1 Ki 4:31), the simple who are made wise through “the decrees of the Lord” (Ps 19:7; so also 119:97–100), the instruction of Wisdom herself (Prov 8:33), and the activity (as whispily vain as it is) of the Preacher, Qohelet (Eccles 2:15, 19). The way the Egyptian treated the Israelites had a certain cunning involved—they acted with a canny, shrewd wisdom.
The Hebrew word chosen in the poetry of the psalmist’s song is nakal, “to be crafty, deceitful, or knavish”, according to Brown, Driver, and Briggs. This word is also employed in the Genesis narrative, when the brothers of Joseph plot to kill him. “Here comes this dreamer; come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits”, they say (Gen 37:19–20), as he approaches them in his “long robe with sleeves” (Gen 37:3). Such behaviour is described in various translations as being a conspiracy or a plot—the translation offered here for nakal.
Attributing this mode of behaviour to the sons of Jacob should not surprise us—after all, they have inherited the DNA which has previously led their ancestors to lie, deceive, and even threaten to murder their own child! Remember: Abraham lying about his wife Sarah as his sister (Gen 12 and again in Gen 20) and threatening to sacrifice his own son (Gen 22); Isaac, who also lied that his wife Rebekah was his sister (Gen 26); and Jacob, the deceiver, who stole his birthright from his twin brother Esau (Gen 27) and then deceived his father-in-law Laban and profited from his flock (Gen 30–31). They are not exactly wonderful role models!
But the Exodus narrative attributes such “shrewdness” to the Egyptians, as the foes of Israel (Exod 1:10); a shrewdness that overlaps, as we have seen, with divinely-granted wisdom. The Egyptians were being wise in pressing the foreigners in their midst to work for them in their building projects. And no, they were not being used as slave labour to build the great pyramids of Egypt. Those structures are dated to “the Old Kingdom”, from 2686 until about 2160 BCE—well, well before any possible dating of the Israelites were in Egypt.
It’s interesting that the psalmist called out the Egyptians for what they saw them to be—shrewd, conniving, deceitful—whereas the Exodus story leaves open a sliver of possibility they the Egyptians were being shrewd and wise in the way they use (and, it would seem, greatly abused) the Israelites living in their land. Interesting.
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples have long struggled for constitutional recognition. As far back as YortaYorta elder William Cooper’s letter to King George VI (1937), the Yirrkala Bark Petitions (1963), the Larrakia Petition (1972) and the Barunga Statement (1988), First Peoples have sought a fair place in our country.
All Prime Ministers of the modern era were conscious of the original omission of First Peoples from our constitutional arrangements. Prime Minister the Hon Gough Whitlam spoke of the need for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples to take “their rightful place in this nation”. Prime Minister the Rt Hon Malcolm Fraser established a Senate inquiry whose report, 200 Years Later: Report by the Senate Standing Committee on Constitutional and Legal Affairs on the Feasibility of a Compact or ‘Makarrata’ between the Commonwealth and Aboriginal People, was delivered after the 1983 election.
Prime Minister the Hon Bob Hawke sought to respond to the BarungaStatement with his commitment for a treaty or compact at the bicentenary of 1988. In his Redfern Speech in 1991, Prime Minister the Hon Paul Keating said, How well we recognise the fact that, complex as our contemporary identity is, it cannot be separated from Aboriginal Australia.
Prime Minister the Hon John Howard committed to a referendum on the eve of the 2007 federal election, saying: I believe we must find room in our national life to formally recognise the special status of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders as the first peoples of our nation.
In 2010 Prime Minister the Hon Julia Gillard established the Expert Panel on the Recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples in the Constitution, co-chaired by Patrick Dodson and Mark Leibler, which reported in 2012.
Prime Minister the Hon Tony Abbott established a Joint Select Committee on Constitutional Recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples, co-chaired by Senator Ken Wyatt and Senator Nova Peris, which reported in June 2015.
Prime Minister the Hon Malcolm Turnbull and Opposition Leader the Hon Bill Shorten then established the Referendum Council in December 2015. The Council worked to build on the work of the Expert Panel and the Joint Select Committee. It reported in 2017, taking into account the political and legal responses to the earlier reports, as well as the views of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and the general public.
This is the first time in Australia’s history that such a process has been undertaken. It is a significant response to the historical exclusion of First Peoples from the original process that led to the adoption of the Australian Constitution. The outcomes of the First Nations Regional Dialogues and the National Constitutional Convention are articulated in the Uluru Statement from the Heart.
The findings of our broader community consultation supported the findings of the First Nations Regional Dialogues. This strengthens our conviction that the Voice to the Parliament proposal and an extra-constitutional Declaration of Recognition will be acceptable to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and to the broader Australian community.
In their Final Report, the Co-Chairs of the Referendum Council, Pat Anderson AO and Mark Leibler AC, say, “We propose these reforms because they conform to the weight of views of First Peoples expressed in the First Nations Regional Dialogues as well as those of the wider community. With focussed political leadership and continued multiparty support for meaningful recognition, the Voice to the Parliament proposal can succeed at a referendum.
“The consensus view of the Referendum Council is that these recommendations for constitutional and extra-constitutional recognition are modest, reasonable, unifying and capable of attracting the necessary support of the Australian people.”
This is the work that lies behind the request to Vote YES in the proposed 2023 referendum. It has been a long process, with bipartisan political support, and there is a lot of information that is available.
from the Foreword from the Co-Chairs of the Final Report of the Referendum Council, 2017
Last week we saw Paul pivoting from complex theological argumentation into encouraging ethical instruction (Rom 12:1–8). This week, the lectionary offers us a section of Romans (12:9–21) in which all of the convoluted syntactical constructions and flowery rhetorical declarations of those preceding 11 chapters have faded into the distance. In this passage, we have a sequence of twenty-one short, precise, punchy phrases through which Paul offers advice and guidance to the believers in Rome.
Paul never lost an opportunity to provide advice and instruction to people in the churches to whom he wrote letters. In many of those letters, there are sections where he peppers his communications with short, sharp, direct instructions. In 1 Thess 5:12–22, he shoots off a string of seventeen mostly staccato-short instructions: “admonish the idlers, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient …”.
In Phil 4:8–9 he encourages the Philippians to “think about” the eight qualities that he lists in rapid-fire order: “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise”.
In his letter to the believers in Galatia, he gives both a list of fifteen “works of the flesh” and then of nine qualities that comprise “the fruit of the Spirit” (Gal 5:16–26), while near the end of his first letter to the Corinthians, he provides a more modest list of five commands: “keep alert, stand firm, be courageous, be strong, let all you do be done in love” (1 Cor 16:13–14).
Here in Romans 12, he excels himself, with a sequence of twenty commands, the first of which (“let love be genuine”, v.9) stands as a heading for the section; and the last of which (“never avenge yourselves”, v.19) is extended into a brief excursus about “the wrath of God”, before a final two-part concluding instruction, “do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (v.21).
The go-to commentaries on my bookshelf which deal with Romans are the two-volume (976 pages) Word Commentary by James D.G. Dunn, and the even larger (1140 pages) Hermeneia Commentary by Robert Jewett. I had the privilege of spending a sabbatical year at Durham in the UK while Jimmy Dunn was Professor there (he was supervising the doctoral research into Matthew’s Gospel being undertaken by my wife, Elizabeth Raine) and also of being one of the respondents to the commentary of Jewett when he was a visiting scholar at Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia.
Dunn follows the typical scholarly description of this passage as “the most loosely constructed of all the paragraphs, consisting mainly of individual exhortations (stringing pearls) held together in part by particular words and thematic links (especially love … bad … and good)” (Romans, Word, p.737). Jewett demurs, arguing that this passage “is artfully constructed for rhetorical impact and closely related to the tensions between Christian groups in Rome” (Romans, Hermeneia, p.756).
I can see that the links suggested by Jewett are evident in the words that Dunn has suggested. “Let love be genuine” (v.9) functions as a heading; the motif is repeated with “love one another with mutual affection” (v.10) and then explained in a series of practical instructions: “contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers; bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them; rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep; live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are” (vv.12–16).
These words apply directly, it would seem, to the situation in Rome, where tensions between groups are evident. The points of view that are reflected in the phrases “those who are weak in faith” (14:1) and those who “believe in eating anything” (14:2), for instance, appear to reflect the same disagreement that is dealt with in more detail in 1 Cor 8—10.
In that context, “the weak” is regularly interpreted to be a Gentile portrayal of Jews within the Roman conglomerate of faith communities, who refrain from eating meat that had previously been offered to idols and then sold on in the marketplace. “The strong” would thus be the Gentile self-description of those who are not troubled by this, since they know that “no idol in the world really exists” since “there is no God but one” (1 Cor 8:4).
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Could a similar dynamic be at work regarding the same issue in Rome? It seems to me to be a reasonable line of interpretation—in which case, the exhortations grouped together under the heading of love (Rom 12:9–10, 13–17) would undergird the later teachings about love as “the fulfilling of the law” (13:8–10) and the direct command to “welcome one another” (15:7). They would also,seem to relate to the specific directions that the believers “no longer pass judgement on one another” (14:13, drawing together all of 14:1–23) and the clear admonition that “each of us must please our neighbour for the good purpose of building up the neighbour” (15:2, summing up 15:1–13).
Indeed, I find myself strongly persuaded by a line of scholarship which Jewett summarises and develops in his hugely-detailed Hermeneia commentary, which sees the list of names to whom Paul sends greetings in Rom 16:3–16 offers clear indications of different “house church” groups which were meeting in Rome. Phrases such as “the church in their house” (v.5), “the family of Aristobulus” (v.10), “those in the Lord who belong to the family of Narcissus” (v.11), “the brothers and sisters who are with them” (v.14), and “all the saints who are with them” (v.15) indicate various potential groupings.
Jewett distinguishes three types of people being addressed—close personal friends and coworkers of Paul, leaders of house churches known only by hearsay (since Paul had not yet visited Rome when he wrote this letter), and five house or tenement churches (identified by some of those phrases already noted in the previous paragraph). The rhetorical function of this closing section of the letter is, in part, to strengthen “emotional and affectional bonds … across barriers erected by previous conflicts”. (See Jewett, Romans, Hermeneia, pp.952–954).
In similar fashion, the instructions “hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good” (v.9) and “do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (v.21) enclose the passage as markers of a related key theme, in which the opposites of evil (bad) and good are in view. In this regard, the instruction, “do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all” (v.17) is also related, and it shows the connection with the “love” motif already noted. It is yet another indication that the cohesiveness of the community is what Paul has in mind as he writes.
What follows immediately after that instruction adds to this theme: “if it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (v.18) is clearly aimed at ensuring mutual respect amongst those drawn together by their common faith in Jesus as “the righteousness of God”. And perhaps, then, the mention of God’s wrath (v.19a) and the following instructions (vv.19b—20) fit within this framework. God’s vengeance (noted in the short quote from Deut 32:25) requires behaviour that is ethical and other-oriented. That is how to live as those who have been “transformed by the renewing of your minds” (Rom 12:2).
That behaviour—feeding the hungry, giving a drink to the thirsty—points quite directly to the teaching of Jesus, which we find expressed in the succinct word, “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward” (Mark 10:41) and embedded in the more extended parable of the final judgement (Matt 25:31–46).
In like fashion, the exhortation to “bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them; rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Rom 12:14–15) resonates with the blessing offered by Jesus to those who weep (Luke 6:21b) and the subsequent exhortation to “do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (Luke 6:27b—28).
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That Paul was aware of the ethical stance of Jesus, and indeed of some of his specific teachings, may well be indicated by his clear referencing of them in these words at this point in his letter to the Romans. Dunn certainly believes this to be the case; “the probability that the Pauline paraenesis does reflect the exhortation of Jesus must be judged to be very strong” (Dunn, Romans, Word, p.745).
Jewett takes a broader view, noting “close Hebraic parallels to this exhortation concerning emotional responsiveness”, citing Sir 7:34 (“do not withdraw yourself from weepers—mourn with the weepers”) as well Testament of Joseph 17:7–8 (“their life was my life, all their suffering was my suffering, all their sickness was my infirmity … my land was all their land, and their counsel my counsel”).
Jewett also references a Greek maxim by Menander (“return grief for grief, and more than love for love”, Sent. Byz. 448), and a dictum by Epictetus (“where a man rejoices with good reason, there others may rejoice with him”, Diss. 2.5.23). (See Jewett, Romans, Hermeneia, p.767.)
So the wider existence of this ethical stance needs to be noted; Paul—and indeed Jesus—was not alone in recognising the virtue of fostering a sympathetic understanding of others, and of working collaboratively towards a cohesive and cordial communal life. Indeed, it can be no accident that this string of ethical exhortations which Paul collected in 12:9–21 follows immediately after his use of the image of the body as a metaphor for the interconnected and interdependent life of the community, in 12:3–8.
So the various injunctions collected in this passage—“live in harmony with one another”, “contribute to the needs of the saints”, even “extend hospitality to strangers” and indeed “live peaceably with all”—stand as important guides for the communities of faith in Rome, and indeed prove to be wise guides for life in any community, at any time, through into the present day. Faith calls us into relationship with others, and those relationships are to be marked by respect and integrity. May it be so!
I have been thinking about the upcoming referendum,,now announced for 14 October, for quite some time. I was recently asked why I planned to vote YES, and after giving this some consideration, I decided that there are eight key reasons to Vote YES:
1. There has been a long period of preparation leading to this present moment. Many Prime Ministers, each one since Gough Whitlam, have spoken in support of according a special place for First Peoples (yes—even John Howard!) In the last decade, our federal leadership has acted by setting up an Expert Panel in 2010 (Gillard), and then a Joint Select Committee in 2012 (Abbott), and then the Referendum Council in 2015 (Turnbull). This has been a bi-partisan political trajectory, culminating in the decision to go to a referendum in 2023 (Albanese).
2. As a result, Indigenous consultations have taken place, led by intelligent, compassionate, informed Elders, leading to the 2017 Consultation at Uluṟu. The Uluṟu Statement provides a clear Indigenous voice which speaks clearly about what is required: recognition in the Australian Constitution, a permanent Voice to Parliament, the telling of truth about our national history, and a Makarrata Commission to oversee the formalisation of treaties with the various First Nations. This is what the Elders of the First Nations are now asking of us.
3. Reputable polling shows that a vast majority of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people support the request of the Statement from the Heart, which forms the basis for the proposed referendum. We all need to listen, acknowledge, and respond to that clear request. Voting YES will not solve everything, but it will be a very important basis for future action in this regard.
4. Many community groups and organisations are supporting a YES vote. This proposal has seized the imagination of people around the country. Sporting organisations, religious organisations, members of all major political parties, leaders of many ethnic and cultural community groups, leaders of many businesses, first ministers of every state and territory as well as our Prime Minister, each have joined their voice to the call for a YES vote. Support cuts across all distinctions and divisions in our society to unify in a strong call to vote YES.
5. Regular advice from the Indigenous-elected Voice will shape future policies of the national government in ways that will provide practical support to First Peoples, and help move us closer towards Closing the Gap in all areas. There is much work to be done. Governments in recent years have said that they want to Close the Gap, but progress has been slow. Regular, informed advice from the people most impacted will surely help us to move forward in this regard.
6. A resounding YES vote, akin to what took place in the 1967 referendum, will give a clear indication of how we have, at last, matured as a nation, moving beyond the xenophobic fear of the white Australia era and its continuation into the “white blindfold” years in the “history wars” of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. In recent decades in our society, we have taken a number of important steps in this regard, and this vote invites us to take a very important leap forward.
7. A YES vote will not be a divisive decision. Recognising First Peoples in the Constitution will not drive a wedge between “us” and “them”, nor will it give any privilege to these people. It will simply be a formal, legal recognition of the reality of the fact that when British colonisers invaded and settled on this continent, claiming it is their land, that land had in fact been cared for over millennia by the people already living on that land. In fact, a YES vote will provide good grounds for coming together in a more cohesive way in our society. It will speak truth about our past. Any future progress towards real reconciliation within our society depends on our taking this step, now.
8. A strong YES vote will provide a solid foundation for positive, constructive, hope-giving actions in the coming years, that will ensure we address the situation and redress the disadvantages of Aboriginal and Islander peoples. We recognise them with flags, we acknowledge them when we are on country, we encourage their languages and nurture their community groups; now we need to recognise them within our Constitution and ensure that there is a permanent Voice which can speak clearly on their behalf into the public arena.
I think that for the sake of First Nations peoples and for the health of the country as a whole, it is imperative that we vote YES!!!
The section of the Gospel that is offered in the lectionary this coming Sunday (Mark 16:21–28) contains a striking paradox. As the author of this passage portrays Jesus, looking forward to the public shaming that he will experience on the cross, he places on his lips a call to his followers, to take up the cross themselves. The cross is at the centre of the story that the evangelists tell—and at the heart of Christian faith. And yet that cross subjects Jesus to the shame of being subjected to this degrading punishment.
The cross is introduced by Jesus himself, when he teaches his followers “that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (16:21). So important is this teaching, that Jesus repeats it twice more, following the threefold appearance of this prediction in one of Matthew’s key sources, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus, Messiah”, which we know as Mark’s Gospel (Mark 9:31; 10:33–34).
So Jesus restates this briefly: “the Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and on the third day he will be raised” (Matt 17:23); and then, with more details: “the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified; and on the third day he will be raised” (Matt 20:18–19).
I don’t think that these three predictions were spoken, historically, by Jesus, as he made his way towards Jerusalem. Rather, the author of a placed them in this strategic place in the centre of his narrative (Mark 8:27–38). The author of “the book of origins of Jesus, Messiah”, which we know as Matthew’s Gospel, sees the value of this repetition, and follows his source.
These statements mark the turn in the story from Galilee, where the earlier activity of Jesus took place (Matt 4:12—18:35), towards Jerusalem, where the final days of Jesus will play out (19:1—28:15). The dynamic of the narrative indicates that, as Jesus leaves behind the days of preaching and teaching, healing and casting out demons, his focus turns to the confrontation that he knows lies in store for him.
The public nature of crucifixion was humiliating and shaming. The typical process of crucifixion involved moment after moment of humiliation, undermining any sense of honour that the victim had, increasing the sense of public shame that they were experiencing.
In the Roman world, crucifixion was variously identified as a punishment for slaves (Cicero, In Verrem 2.5.168), bandits (Josephus, War 5.449-451), prisoners of war (Josephus, War 5.451), and political rebels (Josephus, Ant. 17.295). These were people whose situations or actions had generated shame.
In the case of Jesus, he is accused of treason through the inference that he is King of the Jews—a claim that was anathema to the Romans (John 19:12)—and he is crucified in the company of political rebels (Mark 15:27; Matt 27:38; the term used, lēstēs, is the one most often found in the writings of Josephus to denote a political rebel).
A public trial, followed by a public execution on the cross, was a ritual in which the accused person was shamed, through a public ritual of status degradation. Cicero, in speaking as the counsel of Rabinio, a man accused of treason, asserted that “the ignominy of a public trial is a miserable thing” and described a public execution as “the assembly being polluted by the contagion of an executioner … [exhibiting] traces of nefarious wickedness” (Pro Rabinio 11, 16).
I have explored the humiliation and shaming inherent in the act of crucifixion in more detail in a blog at
And yet, immediately after he spoke this prophetic word, Jesus issued his disciples with a call to take up their crosses themselves: “if any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matt 16:24). He invites them—indeed, he commands them—to enter into the public shame that he will experience in his own crucifixion.
In the narratives that recount the crucifixion of Jesus, it is not so much the physical torment of Jesus which is highlighted (although, admittedly, a slow death by suffocation whilst hanging on a cross for hours, even days, was a terrible fate). Rather, it is the various ways in which Jesus was shamed: he was spat upon, physically struck on the face and the head, verbally ridiculed and insulted, and treated contemptuously.
This is the way of Jesus; and the way of his followers. Instead of saving their life, the followers of Jesus are instructed to lose their life (16:25). Instead of aiming to “gain the whole world”, and thereby “forfeit their life”, a follower is, by implication, to let go of all hopes of “gaining the world” (16:25–26). To gain the world was presumably referring to occupying a position of power, prestige, and popularity—precisely the kind of issues that later writers, Matthew and Luke, reflected in their more detailed accounts of the testing of Jesus in the wilderness. (See https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/johntsquires.com/2019/03/05/a-testing-time-forty-days-in-the-wilderness-1/)
Then, Jesus specifies the sense of shame that is involved in “taking up your cross” and “losing your life”, but he turns the tables as he declares that “the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done” (16:27).
This reversal of fortune, repaying everyone for their deeds, reflects the shame, in God’s eyes, of rejecting Jesus. (The way this saying is expressed in Mark’s earlier version is clearer in this regard; see Mark 8:38.) Here is the paradox: to gain honour, Jesus had to be subjected to the shame of the cross.
Likewise, to gain honour as a disciple following Jesus, a person must take up the shameful instrument of punishment (the cross), lay aside all desire to gain prestigious and powerful positions of honour, give up any claim on life itself, and (as Jesus later asserts), live as a servant, being willing to be dishonoured for the sake of the shame of the Gospel.
And that’s the paradox of discipleship that this passage illuminates.
“The angel of the Lord appeared to [Moses] in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight’ … and [when] the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ Then he said, ‘Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’” (Exod 3:2–5)
The story of the burning bush is well-known; it is the moment when Moses, the murderer who has fled from Egypt (2:11–15), is galvanised by a striking event to become the one who will “go [back] to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt” (3:10), to become Moses the liberator. The transformation is striking—although perhaps the transformation is not quite as dramatic as many envisage.
It may well be the case for Moses that a strong sense of justice undergirds both his act of killing the Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew (2:11), and his commitment to deliver the Israelites from “the misery of Egypt” (3:17). Moses was passionate about the need for justice in society. Paradoxically, this passion led him to say NO to a man he witnessed committing a crime, and YES to a body of people who were suffering oppression in a foreign land.
Of course, common sense says that Moses should not have taken things into his own hands when he saw that Egyptian man beating one of his fellow-Israelites. But the passion within him—passion for fairness and justice—boiled up inside him and overflowed into unjust actions. This was in keeping with the charge given to the father of his people, when God mused about Abraham, “I have chosen him, that he may charge his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing righteousness and justice” (Gen 18:19).
No wonder Moses fled, escaping the wrath of Pharaoh, travelling east across the desert areas of the Sinai Peninsula, all the way to Midian! (Exod 2:15). His action, out of proportion with the crime he saw being committed, was unjust. It is not a very propitious start for Moses, the man who towers over the story of the people,of Israel—ironically, best remembered as Moses the lawgiver!
Mind you, throughout Genesis, we have been regaled by tales of men behaving badly—Abraham lying about his wife Sarah as his sister (Gen 12 and again in Gen 20) and threatening to sacrifice his own son (Gen 22); Isaac, who also lied that his wife Rebekah was his sister (Gen 26); and Jacob, the deceiver, who stole his birthright from his twin brother Esau (Gen 27) and then deceived his father-in-law Laban and profited from his flock (Gen 30–31). They are not exactly wonderful role models!
Yet the story about Moses that we are offered in the lectionary this week presents Moses in a much more positive light, and it contains two fundamental elements in the story of Israel: the declaration that Moses stands on holy ground, and the revelation of the name of God.
Holy ground
God’s word to Moses, after calling for his attention, is to declare that “the place on which you are standing is holy ground” (Exod 3:5). This is the first occurrence of the concept of holiness in the Torah—the word is absent from all of the narratives in Genesis. And it is fascinating that this “holy ground” is in Midian, both far away from Egypt and far away from Canaan, the land that would subsequently be decreed as holy (Exod 15:13; Jer 21:23; Zech 2:12). This God is now able to appear in places far away from Canaan., and declare them holy.
A central motif in Hebrew Scripture is that holiness was a defining character of the people of Israel. A section of Leviticus (chapters 17—26) is known as “The Holiness Code”; its main purpose was to set out laws to mark Israel as different from the surrounding cultures. “You shall not do as they do in the land of Egypt, where you lived”, God told Moses, “and you shall not do as they do in the land of Canaan, to which I am bringing you” (Lev 18:2).
The rules of Leviticus were meant to set the Israelites apart from the Canaanites and Egyptians, who at that time had customs and rituals that were not to be adopted by the Israelites. Moses is instructed to relay to the people, “you shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy” (Lev 19:2), and to remind them to “consecrate yourselves therefore, and be holy; for I am the Lord your God. Keep my statutes, and observe them; I am the Lord; I sanctify you” (Lev 20:7). The whole book details those many statutes and commandments, all designed to keep the practices of the Israelites “holy to the Lord” (Lev 19:8; 23:20; 27:14–24).
Once the Temple was constructed, as a holy place within that holy land, those who ministered to God within the Temple, as priests, were to be especially concerned about holiness, both in their daily life and in their regular activities in the Temple (Exod 28–29; Lev 8–9). The priests oversaw the implementation of the Holiness Code, explaining the various applications of the word to Israel, that “you shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy” (Lev 19:2; also 20:7, 26).
In the years before and during the exile, a number of prophets took to addressing the Lord God as “the Holy One of Israel” (Hos 11:9, 12; Isa 1:4; 5:9, 24; 10:20; 12:6; 17:7; 29:19; 30:11–15; 31:1; 37:23; 41:14–20; 43:3, 14; 45:11; 47:4; 48:17; 49:7; 54:5–6; 60:9, 14; Jer 50:29; 51:5; Ezek 39:7; Hab 1:12; 3:3). The psalmists also pick up this phrase (Ps 71:22; 78:41; 89:18), reflecting the affirmation made by Hannah, “there is no Holy One like the Lord, no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God” (1 Sam 2:2).
As a consequence, Israel is regularly assured that the whole nation is a “chosen people” (Deut 7:6–8, 14:2; Ps 33:12; Isa 41:8–10, 65:9), set apart as “a kingdom of priests, a holy nation” (Exod 19:4–6), called to be “a light to the nations” (Isa 42:6, 49:6). So in the towns and villages of Israel, by contrast to the centralised priests, the scribes and Pharisees provided guidance in the interpretation of Torah and in the application of Torah to ensure that holiness was observed in daily living of all people in Israel.
These dispersed teachers undertook the highly significant task of showing how the Torah was relevant to the daily life of Jewish people. It was possible, they argued, to live as God’s holy people at every point of one’s life, quite apart from any pilgrimages made to the Temple in Jerusalem. These figures, scribes and Pharisees, are evident in a number of interactions with Jesus that are reported in the Gospels—interactions focussed on interpreting the Torah (Mark 7:1–23 and Matt 15:1–20 exemplify such encounters).
Perhaps the origins of this localised interpretive role are told in the post-Exilic narrative of Nehemiah, when “the priest Ezra brought the law before the assembly, both men and women and all who could hear with understanding”, ably assisted by men who “helped the people to understand the law, while the people remained in their places”, explaining the significance of “this holy day” and other matters (Neh 7:73b—8:12). The story explains the modus operandi of these teachers.
Certainly, the culture and religion of the Israelites was to be marked by a concern for holiness. This is read back into the foundational narrative of the call given to Moses, “to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt” (Exod 3:10, 17). When he hears this call in Midian, Moses is standing on holy ground (3:1-12).
The Name of God
Although he is in Midian, far away from Canaan (later to become Israel), Moses encounters the God who is most firmly identified with that land. It is “the Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob” who appeared to Moses (Exod 3:6, 16). This is the first occurrence of this characteristic linkage of the Lord God with the three patriarchs (see also Exod 3:15–16; 4:5; 6:3, 8; 33:1; Lev 26:42; Num 32:11; Deut 1:8; 6:10; 9:5, 27; 29:13; 30:20; 34:4; 2 Ki 13:23; Jer 33:26).
Identified, therefore, as “the God of your ancestors” (in Hebrew, elohe abotekem) (3:15, 16; 4:5), a distinctive term is added into the mix, and highlighted by God as “my name forever … my title for all generations” (3:15). The term is regularly translated as Lord, and is often capitalised to indicate its distinctive nature. In fact, the name comprises just four consonants (transliterated as yhvh or yhwh).
Despite its apparent simplicity, the meaning of the word has occasioned intense discussion amongst interpreters over the centuries. First, we should note that many Jews today adhere to the age-old prohibition and do not speak the name of God. This is based on the third of the Ten Commandments, “You shall not take his name in vain” (Exod 20:7; Deut 5:11).
Rabbi Baruch Davidson, writing on the website chabad.org, explains: “Although this verse is classically interpreted as referring to a senseless oath using G‑d’s name, the avoidance of saying G‑d’s name extends to all expressions, except prayer and Torah study. In the words of Maimonides, the great Jewish codifier: ‘It is not only a false oath that is forbidden. Instead, it is forbidden to mention even one of the names designated for G‑d in vain, although one does not take an oath. For the verse commands us, saying: “To fear the glorious and awesome name. Included in fearing it is not to mention it in vain.’” See
Since Hebrew words are constructed with a set of consonants as the base, to which a variety of vowels can be added, this short word is often expanded to either Jehovah or Yahweh. The former places the vowels of the word Adonai (meaning “lord”) to form the artificial term Jehovah, a title that has been popularised by the Jehovah Witnesses. The latter is a more accurate rendition of the blending of these consonants with the vowels of the verb to be, hayah, forming Yahweh.
The name of God that is given to Moses in this story is often referred to as the Tetragrammaton (meaning “four letters”), because it is a four-letter word, yud-hey-vav-hey (יהוה). This name is derived from the verb “to be”, which has led to speculation that it could be translated as “I am who I am” or “I will be whom I will be”—revealing nothing, really, about the nature of this divine being, other than the existence of God. It is a curious “revelation”. What has Moses actually learnt about God in this encounter??
This name is certainly mysterious. What does it mean to say, “I am who I am”? or “I will be who I will be”? The mystery of each phrase invites the listener or reader to pause, ponder, and consider what is being conveyed. This is not a direct propositional statement, declaring a closed statement along the lines of, “God is love”, or “God is all-knowing”, or “God desires justice”, or other such statements. It is, rather, mystical, evocative, inviting, something that is invitational and encouraging exploration. Perhaps that, in itself, is enough of a basis for our considering as to who God is and what God desires?
Jewish mystical literature actually teaches that there are seventy names for God; and if you explore the biblical texts (the Torah), the developing rabbinic literature (Mishnah, Talmud, and Midrash) and then the proliferation of Jewish mystical terms, God is referred to by almost more names than can be counted.
Rabbi Stephen Carr Reuben asks “Why so many names, and why does God tell Moses that the name he knows God by is different from that of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob?” As he explores this question, he notes that “Every name reflects a quality in relation to human beings that each of us can choose to emulate in our own lives. Thus in Jewish mysticism, the ideal state is to be in harmony with the Divine by emulating the attributes reflected in the great diversity of divine names.”
The rabbi offers some examples: “As God is called, ‘The Compassionate One’ (HARAKHAMAN in Hebrew), so each of us can strive to be compassionate in our behavior toward others. As God is called EL SHADDAI (The Nurturer), so we can be nurturing of the dreams and longings of others. As God is called The Righteous Judge (DAYAN EMET), so we can express righteousness and stand up for justice in our lives.”
What, then, of the revelation to Moses? Rabbi Carr Reuben suggests that “when God tells Moses that he was known by a different name to the patriarchs, it is because every moment in history, and every challenge we face personally demands that we draw upon a different quality of holiness to emulate in our lives. We must choose the name of God that captures the essence of the attributes of Godliness that is appropriate to the moment, and up to the challenge of the day.” See
Today, 25 August, is Wear It Purple Day. This day was founded in 2010 in response to global stories of real teenagers, real heartache, and their very real responses. The day is specifically designed to foster supportive, safe, empowering and inclusive environments for rainbow young people around the world.
On the website for Wear It Purple Day, we are told more about the story of its origins:
“In 2010, several rainbow young people took their own lives following bullying and harassment resulting from the lack of acceptance of their sexuality or gender identity. One member of this group was 18 year old Tyler Clementi, who took his own life after being publicly ‘outed’ as gay by his roommate, prompting a frenzy as reports poured in of various young people sadly in the same situation.
“As the world saw the faces of precious young lives lost, some young people found a new sense of conviction and purpose to ensure that young people everywhere would know that there were people who did support and love them. Wear it Purple was established to show young people across the globe that there was hope, that there were people who did support and accept them, and that they have the right to be proud of who they are.”
Locally, in the lead up to this day, the Rainbow Christian Alliance (RCA) that meets at Tuggeranong Uniting Church (TUC) once each month held an evening to give a local focus on Wear It Purple Day. So, on Sunday 13 August, RCA members and visitors came dressed in purple—it was a dazzling display!
Local Greens MLA, Johnathan Davis, was the guest for the evening. (Sadly, as Johnathan does not own any purple clothing, he didn’t come dressed in purple, as the phot above shows!). Johnno, as he likes to be called, describes himself as “a young shamelessly queer person in public life”. He was elected to the Legislative Assembly of the Australian Capital Territory in 2020, as one of a number of Green members of that Assembly.
In the ACT, the Greens and Labor have formed a coalition government for the past few years, working together to provide reasonable and intelligent government for the territory. Johnno is not the only gay member of the Legislative Assembly—in fact, the ACT Chief Minister is a gay man in a longterm relationship. And he pointed out that while the Deputy Leader of the Greens is a practising Muslim, this indicates the breadth of opinions amongst the local political parties in the ACT.
Johnathan spoke about how he was radicalised politically by his own public school experiences—including a time when the then government was proposing to close the high school that he was attending. Indignant at this move, Johnno mobilised the school community and was successful in stopping the closure of his school. His first successful political campaign!
Wear It Purple is a day that is important to celebrate, he said. Visibility is so important to young gay and lesbian people—and, also, to young intersex and transgender people, as well as asexual and bisexual young people. Visibility such as like Wear It Purple Day provides is personally empowering for such people and it works to ensure that young rainbow people are not isolated. The Day helps to provide a shared sense of identity amongst young rainbow people, giving them encouragement and support from others of same identity—and, indeed, from straighten allies in the wider community who support this Day.
Johnathan talked about some of the initiatives that the ACT Government has introduced to strengthen mental health support for young rainbow people. We know that rainbow people are more liable to have mental health crisis, to attempt suicide, and indeed to die from their own hands, than those in the straight community. This is exacerbated even more for younger members of the rainbow community.
Studies show that the situation is very serious for members of this community. For instance, I have found that LGBTIQ+ Health Australia has stated the following in its October 2021 report:
The ACT Government has recently opened a “queer space cafe”, which is a safe haven space, in the northwest of Canberra. Already, after just a short period of time, the impact of this safe haven space has proved to be incredibly powerful. It is based on the observation that early intervention, when a person is facing a mental health crisis, is far more effective than waiting until the issues have magnified and become far more difficult to manage.
The cafe is staffed by people who transform a simple space to sip coffee and chat into a one-stop shop to refer people in need to whatever services might best be able to support their need. Johnathan says that this reflects the current approach of the ACT Minister for Mental Health, Emma Davidson, MLA, to divert mental health funding away from government-run services into supporting existing community services that are working well. (Emma Davidson is, like Johnathan Davis, a member of the Greens Party.)
Johnathan also spoke quite candidly about his own faith. He volunteered that “Faith has not been an issue for me for many years, but my recent connections with Tuggeranong Uniting Church has led me to re-evaluate my position and rethink faith questions”. He noted that his understanding of God and his experience of church did not correlate—a disjuncture that, sadly, is the case for many people in today’s society, especially when they experience a church that is dogmatic, and judgemental, and what they experience is condemnation and exclusion.
“When I came out”, Johnno said, “everyone who had a problem with my sexuality attributed that to their faith”. That is, they judged him on the basis of what they believed (and what they had been taught) was “right”, rather than encountering him as he was, and building relationships with him from that.
The approach at Tuggeranong Uniting is quite different from this; the community has worked hard to develop an inclusive and welcoming community where relationships are valued over judging, where being an inclusive space has a higher value than being a set-apart, “holy” community of faith. (There are quite a number of other Uniting Churches which are similar in this regard.)
So Johnno continued, saying that “I feel like I can reconsider my faith because of the contact I have had with Tuggeranong; this church is prodding me to re-evaluate my faith”. He had said the same when interviewed for the recent video, “Transforming Connections”, which was recently released. He finished with an indication that he would like to continue to develop his relationship with TUC in the future.
The website for Wear it Purple Day notes that the Day has developed into an international movement. “New generations of rainbow young people continue to be dedicated to promoting the annual expression of support and acceptance to rainbow young people. What started out small has now grown; however the message remains the same: Everybody has the right to be proud of who they are.”
On 25 August, why not celebrate Wear it Purple Day? Be part of a movement that has the potential to save thousands of lives. Be part of this change.
With this Sunday’s Hebrew Scripture passage, we move on from the ancestral sagas that featured the three patriarchs of Israel (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) and their four matriarchs (Sarah and Rebekah, Leah and Rachel), as well as the twelve sons of Jacob, their sister Dinah, and the escapades in Egypt that proved to be their salvation. We move now into the story of Moses, who occupies a unique place in the story of Israel: Moses the lawgiver, Moses the prophet, Moses the teacher.
Whereas land has been the location for the Genesis stories, with movement happening between Chaldea (later Babylonia), Canaan (later Israel), and Egypt, water now enters the story in a significant way. Indeed, water is present and plays a prominent role in both readings from the Hebrew Scriptures that the lectionary provides for this coming Sunday (Exod 1:8–2:10; Psalm 124).
In the story told in Exodus, the situation of the Israelites is grim. Whilst life in the time of Joseph had been flourishing, in this story, “a new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph” (Exod 1:8). The situation of the Israelite descendants of Joseph was marred by envy (v.9), distrust and scheming (v.10), oppression (v.11), intensified fear (v.12), and the ruthless imposition of tasks (v.13).
Life for the enslaved Israelites was bitter (v.14), and then in peril, as the king of Egypt plotted to murder all the males born to the Israelites (v.15–16). That scheme, however, was foiled by Shiphrah and Puah, who refused to follow through the instructions of the king (v.17) and gave a devious answer about this (v.19). The role that these women play—the first of a number of women—will provide to be important.
In this narrative, the river Nile features prominently (Exod 1:22; 2:4–6). The Nile was the place where Pharaoh threatened to drown “every boy that is born to the Hebrews” (1:22). That river is where the woman married to “a man from the house of Levi” placed her child, inside “a papyrus basket … plastered with bitumen and pitch” to make it waterproof (2:3). It is where the daughter of Pharaoh bathes, and discovers the basket, and the child inside it (2:5–6). That river was the salvation for this particular child, even if it was the threatened place of death for many other children.
In the Psalm, water is present in the floods that threaten the people of Israel. “The flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone the raging waters” (Ps 124: 4–5). That water surges and sweeps with menace, generating fear and anxiety amongst the land-living Israelites. Those waters portended doom.
The sea was integral to God’s creative works: “yonder is the sea, great and wide, creeping things innumerable are there, living things both small and great” (Ps 104:25). The early part of the priestly narrative about God’s creating activity indicates that controlling and corralling the waters was an essential first step (see Gen 1:6–7, 9–10), and also that those waters provided the source of life for “swarms of living creatures” (Gen 1:20).
Yet the sea was a threatening place for the people of Israel, accustomed to life on the land, planting grapevines and herding sheep in “the land of milk and honey”. Later in the story of Moses, the sea of reeds was the place of destruction for Egypt (Ps 114:1–8), although it was also the location of salvation for Israel, as is celebrated in David’s song of praise (2 Sam 22:1–4, repeated at Ps 18:6, 12–19).
For sailors, the sea could be a place of great danger (Ps 107:23–31)—the story of Jonah attests to this (Jon 1:4–17), as does the final trip of Paul as he is taken as a prisoner to Rome (Acts 27:14–20). Yet the power of the roaring sea, as majestic as it is, pales into insignificance beside the majesty of the Lord on high (Ps 93:3–4). In the sea lurks the great sea monster, Leviathan (Job 3:8; Ps 104:26) of whom Job muses, “who can confront it and be safe?” (Job 41:11). It is only the Lord who is able to subdue Leviathan (Ps 74:14; Isa 27:1).
The dangers of the sea which the Israelites escaped may well be reflected in Psalm 124, recalling the threat of floods sweeping them away, torrents rising over them, raging waters submerging them. That psalm concludes, with a sigh of relief, “our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Ps 124:8). The Lord is somehow able to overcome that threat for the Israelites. And that story, as we shall note, has resonances with the earlier narrative of “the great flood” that subsumed the whole earth, and from which only a chosen handful of people and animals survived (Gen 7—9).
The same movement towards salvation takes place in the Exodus narrative, as the unnamed baby is taken out of the river, brought into the household of Pharaoh, the very one who would have the child killed, and nurtured by his own daughter’s nursemaid (Exod 2:6–10). The waters are paradoxical forces, for they sustain and protect life even as they threaten to overwhelm life.
And lest we overlook this element too quickly: the saving of this child depends on a sequence of women who took steps to ensure his safety. We have already noted the actions of Shiphrah and Puah (1:19). Now, we should note the unnamed mother of this child, who placed him in the basket on the river (2:3), and her sister-in-law, also unnamed, who “stood at a distance to see what what happen to him” (2:4).
Then, there was the daughter of Pharaoh, who saw the basket (2:5), her unnamed maid, who took pity on the child (2:6), the sister of this maid, who suggested and then procured someone to nurse the child (2:7). And then, another unnamed woman, “a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child” (2:7–9), which ensured that the child would survive (2:9–10). And finally, back to Pharaoh’s daughter (still unnamed), who bequeathed the name Moses on the rescued child (2:10). So many women, so many important interventions—and so many names not known!
The name of the child taken out of that river is known, and it is given at the end of the story: Moses. This is considered to be an Egyptian name, not an Israelite name—for although the child was born to an Israelite mother, he was raised in the household of an Egyptian family (and a privileged and powerful one, at that!). Moses (Hebrew Mosheh) signifies the “drawing out” of the child from the water (Exod 2:10). And just as he was saved by Egyptian women, so he will later be instrumental in the saving of his people from the Egyptians. A neat piece of irony in the larger storyline.
The story, like many others in these early narrative books, is told as an aetiology, to explain the meaning of the person’s name, as here, or as with Ishmael, Esau, and Jacob, and the new name, Israel, and his twelve sons and two grandsons Ephraim and Manasseh, and others; or the name of a place, as with Beersheba, or Bethel, or Peniel, amongst quite a number of locations named in Genesis. The story is constructed to explain the significance of the name of the people (or place). So for Moses, it is that he was “drawn out” of the waters, where by rights he should have died.
Which provides the groundwork for another ironic twist in the story, for as Moses is rescued out of the water and nurtured to ensure that he lives, so in a subsequent chapter of the story, the people he comes to lead will likewise be rescued from out of the waters of the sea, and will celebrate their saving at the hand of the Lord God (Exod 14:15–15:21). His name and his origins encapsulate a central feature of the story that will unfold in his life.
And those pursuing them, the Egyptian army, meet the fate that was most feared by the Israelites: “you blew with your breath, the sea covered them, they sank like lead in the mighty waters” (Exod 15:10; see a narrative explanations of this, that the sea was held back by the outstretched hands of Moses, at 14:21–28).
But this is jumping ahead to the story told in the lectionary excerpt we are offered in two weeks time! For today, we sit with the story of the origins of the one who was “drawn out of the water”—the child Moses.
There are a number of well-known, oft quoted verses in Romans. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23). “I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh” (Rom 7:18)—expressing the innate sinfulness of humanity that perhaps Paul was seeking to explain at 5:12–21, and which Augustine sought to leverage through his interpretation of two small words in 5:12.
There is also the succinct “Christ is the end of the law” (10:4), which seems clear it—although a number of interpreters (myself included) maintain has been taken out of context and misinterpreted in ways that Paul did not intend. And, on the other side of the equation, “the one who is righteous will live by faith” (Rom 1:17)—although here Paul is quoting a prophet from within Israelite tradition itself(Hab 2:4).
Also, there is “since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand” (Rom 5:1–2)—made famous by Luther’s sola gratia, sola fide. Paul returns to this motif when he affirms that “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, for the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death” (Rom 8:1–2). All rich, juicy statements about the Gospel.
So from the passage offered by the lectionary for this coming Sunday, Pentecost 13A (Rom 12:1–8), we hear this familiar injunction, to “present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds” (Rom 12:1–2). It’s a familiar command that has a clear place within the context of the communities of faith in Rome to whom Paul was writing, and which has been applied time and time and again over the centuries, to believers in vastly different cultures and contexts.
With these verses, we leave the complex theological argumentation that we have been exploring in the passages that the lectionary has offered from Romans 4–11 (Pentecost 2A to 12A), where Paul teases out all of the factors that are involved in his proclaiming the gospel which is “the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek”, in which he demonstrates that “the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith” (1:16–17).
Paul has made the exuberant affirmation that “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (8:31–39).
He has then sung with joy, celebrating “the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! ‘For who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?’ ‘Or who has given a gift to him, to receive a gift in return?’ For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever. Amen.” (11:33–36).
It sounds like he has completed the work that he set out to do in writing this letter. A big full stop (Amen), underlined by a shout of praise (to him be the glory forever)!! But not so fast—there is more to come, as Paul immediately pivots from his theological exposition, into a section where he provides a string of ethical exhortations and instructions to the community in Rome. The pivot happens with a simple phrase: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters” (12:1).
The words which Paul uses here deserve careful attention. First, we should note that this is a word of exhortation; Paul begins his sentence, “I appeal to you” (NRSV), “I urge you” (NIV), “I encourage you” (CEB), even “I beg you” (Phillips), or the more antiquated “I beseech you” (KJV). Paul seems to be hoping to instruct the believers in Rome, without coming across as dominating—although he has been consistently forceful in the first eleven chapters, as he set out his understanding of the Gospel.
In fact, the Greek phrase used here, Παρακαλῶ οὖν ὑμᾶς, is a common way of turning the attention of his listeners from more abstract (or doctrinal) matters, to direct ethical matters of behaviour. We see this at 1 Cor 4:16 and 2 Cor 10:1, each time signalling a new section, as well as at 1 Cor 1:10 and Phlm 9, where the primary issue of each letter is described. It is a familiar rhetorical turn of phrase designed to draw the attention of those hearing, or reading, the letter, to a new topic of instruction.
Indeed, this phrase itself draws from the practice of Greek moral philosophisers in antiquity, of providing “moral exhortation in which someone is advised to pursue or abstain from something”. That’s a quote from one of my teachers, Prof. Abraham Malherbe, who spent decades researching and writing about these philosophers; see Malherbe, “Styles of Exhortation”, in Moral Exhortation; Westminster John Knox Press, 1986 pp. 121–127.
So Paul utilises this technique from Greek literature—just like he also makes extensive use of many elements of a diatribe in his letter to the Romans. However, although he is writing in Greek, some of the language which follows is drawn from Jewish traditions. Paul exemplifies the richness of the multicultural society of the day, where Jewish and hellenistic Greek customs, traditions, and religions intermingled, along with distinctively local practices in each place of the Roman Empire where the traditional deities, language, and culture survived.
“Present your bodies as a living sacrifice”, Paul advises the Romans (12:1). However, he is not specifically instructing them to offer their loves as martyrs. The language is more subtle than this. The offering of sacrifices to the deities was known within ancient Greece and in the Roman Empire. Writing on religion in Ancient Greece, Colette and Séan Hemingway state that “the central ritual act in ancient Greece was animal sacrifice, especially of oxen, goats, and sheep. Sacrifices took place within the sanctuary, usually at an altar in front of the temple, with the assembled participants consuming the entrails and meat of the victim.” See
Paul himself asserts that “what pagans sacrifice, they sacrifice to demons and not to God” (1 Cor 10:20), and so, when believers share in meals involving meat which has been bought at the meat market, “if someone says to you, ‘This has been offered in sacrifice,’ then do not eat it” (1 Cor 10:28). The offering of meat as a sacrifice which was subsequently sold on to the market by the pagan priests was obviously still happening in Corinth.
However, sacrifice was also at the heart of Israelite faith; the Temple was not simply the holy place where the God of Israel resided, but it was also the place to which offerings and sacrifices were brought in order to give thanks to God and to seek forgiveness from God. As the psalmist sings, “lift up your hands to the holy place and bless the Lord” (Ps 134:2).
Since “the Lord is in his holy temple” (Ps 11:4) the psalmist also promises, “I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the Lord; I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people, in the courts of the house of the Lord, in your midst, O Jerusalem” (Ps 116:18–19). Sacrifice was integral to the ancient faith of the Israelites, continued on by Jewish people into the first century CE.
But sacrifice was not just the slaughter of animals and birds. Interpreting the death of Jesus in terms of his sacrifice was a logical move for the Jews who were the first followers of Jesus. In doing that, they “spiritualised” the concept of sacrifice. It was a small step from that, to apply the language of sacrifice to the lives of believers.
Jewish writers had already taken this step: the psalmist sings that “the sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps 51:17), and “those who bring thanksgiving as their sacrifice honour me; to those who go the right way I will show the salvation of God” (Ps 50:23).
So to “present your bodies as a living sacrifice” (Rom 12:1) was not, therefore, a call to martyrdom, but a call to humble, selfless living. The bodies of believers are to be presented to God as holy. Holiness was at the heart of Israelite religion, the faith into which Paul, and Jesus, were born.
Paul also notes that the “living sacrifice” presented to God should be “acceptable”. There’s a strong emphasis throughout Leviticus on the need to bring an offering or sacrifice that is “acceptable” (Lev 1:4; 7:18; 19:5–8; 22:17–21, 26–30); for a sacrifice of wellbeing “to be acceptable it must be perfect; there shall be no blemish in it” (Lev 22:21). That was the role of the priests: to examine carefully the animals being brought for sacrifice, to ensure that they were “perfect”.
The next phrase, often rendered as “spiritual worship”, also needs careful consideration. Paul has earlier referred to “some spiritual gift” that he wished to share with the Roman believers (Rom 1:11), and talked to the Jews about “real circumcision” being “a matter of the heart—it is spiritual and not literal” (2:29). However, the Greek word used in both instance is derived from the root word for spirit (πνευματικὸν at 1:11; ἐν πνεύματι at 2:29).
Not so at Romans 12:1–the phrase in question is τὴν λογικὴν λατρείαν ὑμῶν, which the NASB translates as “your spiritual act of worship”, the NCV as “the spiritual way for you to worship”, the WEB as “your spiritual service”. The use of the word “spiritual” here is misleading; more accurate translations are offered by the NRSV as “your reasonable act of worship”, the NIV as “your true and proper worship”.
The kind of worship for which Paul is advocating is worship which is grounded in the logos, the reason, the rational capacity of human beings. He is not encouraging the Romans to waft off into the ether of “spiritual gifts” that he had found manifest, causing such problems, within the community in Corinth. He is, rather, advocating for a careful, reasoned approach to the worship of God. The sacrifice to be offered should be considered and well thought-out, much in the same way that priests in the Temple would scrutinise and assess potential sacrifices.
There are clues, then, as to what would typify this kind of “worship”. Paul refers to the grace which was “given to me” (12:3)—grace at work in Paul’s life (1:5), and grace lavished on believers (3:24; 5:2, 15–21; 6:15–15). That grace has been a significant motif throughout the theological exposition that Paul has undertaken in the complex argumentation he sets out in the chapters prior to chapter 12.
The ethic that is inculcated by this grace is to think first of the other: “not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (12:3). Again, the Greek term translated as “sober judgement” (σωφρονεῖν) has the sense of what is sensible or reasonable. Mark employs this word when he reports that the Gadarene demoniac, after being exorcised by Jesus, was “sitting there, clothed and in his right mind” (Mark 5:15).
This leads smoothly into a discussion of the community of faith as the body—an image which he had already used in his first letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 12:12–31). There, Paul first identified a range of gifts (1 Cor 12:8–10), and then emphasised the claim that “the body does not consist of one member, but of many” (1 Cor 12:14). As a result, each and every member plays an integral role in the whole.
From this, Paul deduces that “the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable … God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honour to the inferior member” (1 Cor 12:22–25). The context in Corinth shapes the direction into which Paul develops this image.
Here, in writing to the Romans, Paul begins with the same affirmation that “in one body we have many members” (Rom 12:4), but then heads firmly in the direction of identifying the gifts that God has given: “we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us”, before naming seven such gifts (Rom 12:6–8).
The list of gifts in these verses overlaps with, but differs at key points from, the lists found in 1 Cor 12:8–10 and 12:28. The specifics of the particular gifts are not the point at hand; of more significance in this letter is to press the point that the Romans are “not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think” (Rom 12:3).
This is a central ethical exhortation to which Paul will return in later chapters when he instructs the believers in Rome to “extend hospitality to strangers” (12:13), “live in harmony with one another” (12:16), and “love your neighbour as yourself” (13:9, quoting Lev 19:18). He directs them to “welcome those who are weak in faith” (14:1), urging them, “let us no longer pass judgement on one another” (14:13) and “let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding” (14:19)
As he draws towards the close of his long letter, Paul advocates for “the good purpose of building up the neighbour” (15:2), and so the believers in Rome are to “welcome one another just as Christ has welcomed you” (15:7). This is the mode for which he has advocated in chapter 12, when he has urged them, “do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds” (12:2). The transformation that Paul seeks is to develop a perspective that is fully oriented to the other, “not to please ourselves” (15:1), but to “please our neighbour” (15:2).
His prayer for the Roman believers is that God will “grant you to live in harmony with one another … so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (15:5–6). His words in 12:1–8 (which the lectionary offers us this coming Sunday) have set a strong foundation for this trajectory of teaching about mutual responsibility and accountability.
A dialogue sermon on Jesus’ encounter with a Canaanite Woman (Matt 15), written by the Rev. Elizabeth Raine and the Rev. Dr John Squires, and preached by them on Project Reconnect for Sunday 20 August 2023.
The Gospel story we have heard today is an interesting one. It tells of an encounter that took place between Jesus, the disciples and a Canaanite woman, near the ambiguous are of the borders of the lands of Tyre and Sidon. The unnamed woman has come out from there to seek Jesus’ help. Initially repulsed both by Jesus and the disciples, she remains undeterred.
Today, we invite you to join us on an imaginative journey, which may well lead you to think about the story from different perspectives, to engage with different assumptions, and perhaps lead you to different conclusions. We are going to offer you the opportunity to listen in to a conversation about what might have happened that day when Jesus encountered the Canaanite woman.
We will not be listening directly to the conversation between Jesus and the woman—although it will figure in the discussion that takes place. Instead, we will be eavesdropping on a conversation between an acquaintance of the woman, Tamar, and a relative of one of the followers of Jesus, known as Baruch.
Baruch and Tamar are somewhat different people. Tamar is a Canaanite, from the land of Canaan which was taken over by the Israelites who conquered its original inhabitants. Baruch is an Israelite who has become a follower of Jesus, and who has heard a version of the story from his cousin Zebedee. They have accidentally met up in one of the Palestinian market places and have been drawn into a conversation about Jesus’ latest miracle.
So now, please imagine yourself watching this scene.
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B: Have you heard of the latest miracle performed by our Lord? Why, he healed the daughter of a Canaanite – and by long distance! A truly remarkable feat.
T: Can I enquire as to the details of this miracle, Baruch? I believe I may have some knowledge of it.
B: Sure. She was an unaccompanied Canaanite woman – a woman without a male relative! I ask you, do these Canaanites have no sense of decorum? She came crying after Jesus and his disciples, all alone, no male to chaperone her, demanding that he heal her daughter. Such presumption!
T: Now just a minute. I object to you pronouncing the word ‘Canaanite’ as if we were a nasty plague of insects. I also do not think you appreciate the desperation of a loving mother, worried about her child.
B: If this Canaanite woman was a decent woman, she would have approached Jesus with her husband, let him do the talking, and remained quiet, eyes down and head bent.
T: What if she was widowed, or her husband did not want to beg a favour of a Jew – after all, it was the Jews who drove many of the Canaanites from their traditional homelands?
B: You must know that Canaan was the land that God promised to the Israelite people. It was foreordained that the Canaanites would have to relinquish it. And rightly so. Just look at some of the dreadful practices they had – worshipping strange gods, boiling baby goats in their mother’s milk – disgusting! All stopped when Israel took over the land.
T: I believe you are exaggerating – both about their practices and whether Israel indeed stopped them. But what right do you have to use this ancient history to belittle this woman? Whatever her ancestors did, it was hardly her fault.
B: I disagree. We all know these things can be passed down from generation to generation. And I reiterate – what was she doing running around alone on the public roadways crying after strange men? And a why would a Canaanite seek help from their Jewish conquerors like that?
T: I believe you know the answer to that. She understood that Jesus was a healer, someone special. I heard she called him “Lord”.
B: Well, there is that. I suppose his fame and reputation had spread far. But this is no excuse for her behaviour, and she must have known that the Messiah was to come only to the Jews!
T: I have heard he made that abundantly clear to the woman – and called her names. I thought a Messiah was meant to love everyone, not to mention have some sympathy with a race that had originally shared a homeland.
B: Nonsense. The Messiah was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel – everyone knows that. And a lone woman shrieking like a mad thing out in public – she deserved to be called names! And for presuming to quarrel with our Lord.
T: Don’t you think calling someone “dog” is rather insulting? Even if it is the Lord who says so? And as the Canaanites were killed or were hustled out of their land by God’s orders, I would think that it is time to make some amends to them. Why shouldn’t the Messiah share the love around a bit? And what would you do if your daughter was demon possessed? Maybe she was right to quarrel with Jesus.
B: Hmmmmm, I see your point. Of course we all want what is best for our children. And the scriptures do occasionally say that God is the God of other people. But you must admit that she behaved in a somewhat irregular way.
T: I am admitting nothing of the sort. This poor woman goes in search for help for her daughter, and she is told to go away, she is scorned for not being a Jew, and called a dog into the bargain. It is to her credit that she persisted with such a rude lot.
B: You are not telling the whole story. She was helped by Jesus, remember?
T: Let me recap as I heard this story. The woman called Jesus ‘Lord’, and asked for help. The disciples wanted her sent away. So Jesus tells her that he is sent only to the lost sheep of Israel. He then informs her that this is because it is wrong to take bread from the children (that is, the Jews) and throw it to the dogs (that is, the Canaanites). Are you honestly telling me she did not have a right to feel insulted?
B: (reservedly) Well, I suppose when you put it that way, you have a point. But still, a woman alone in public, crying out – I am not sure about this at all.
T: Then let me put it another way. If Jesus decided that after all, she had a case, and he decided to help her, then what is your problem? Remember what the law says about caring for widows and the oppressed. Baruch, you place great value in these laws, don’t you? So surely you should be prepared to some sympathy to this woman?
B: I am not entirely convinced. She must have been some sort of sinner or outcast to behave that way.
T: Nonsense. And actually, she behaved exactly like Lady Wisdom in the scroll of Proverbs. Bold, unafraid, in public alone and demanding justice. Are you saying Wisdom is a bad role model? After all, when Jesus did engage her in conversation, he accepted the woman’s argument as the right one and healed her daughter. I have also heard that he called her faith ‘great’.
B: Lady Wisdom? What rubbish. And why would Jesus commend the faith of a Canaanite woman?
T: Well, he did. And I believe that once she had convinced him that her faith was sound, he was making a point to those men in the Jewish faith who didn’t believe. Seems she knew the scripture about the Messiah better than they.
B: I grant you that there may have been extenuating circumstances. But you must understand that in Jewish custom, men do not speak to strange women in public. No wonder Jesus acted the way he did in the first instance.
T: Jesus did not shame her for being a woman. His quarrel with her was the fact she was not an Israelite. You Jews are so exclusive!
B: But he did concede the argument to her.
T: Are you saying then that she changed Jesus’ mind?
B: I suppose I am. I guess she must have been someone pretty special.
T: As I said, just like Wisdom. This woman stuck to her beliefs and cried out for justice. She was persistent, she was not going to be oppressed or pushed to the side. There is great power in the way that this woman acted.
B: She took quite a risk, then, in acting like this.
T: Indeed she did. It is an interesting point, isn’t it? Some people I have heard speaking about Jesus tend to claim that he is always the one who was right; that he will always persuade the other person, always win the debate. But in this instance, it is the woman who seems to be the one who speaks the deepest truth. In the end, Jesus admits that she is right, and he grants her request. Perhaps Jesus was the one who was transformed. So that doesn’t suggest a woman who is an outcast, does it? It suggests a woman brimming over with wisdom and spirit!
B: Well, it is clear that Jesus was affected by her. And I guess it follows that this must be good news for all of those people who aren’t Jews, but who want to follow Jesus.
T: Ah, now I think you are on to something. If the Messiah allows himself to be transformed, just think; if we emulate this, then we could transform our world, not just our two peoples. Think of it. The Canaanites were despised by Israel, whose ancestors took over their land. So the way that the disciples and Jesus responded to her at first, was simply the customary way. Such a response perpetuates resentment and hatred that then runs from people to people, from generation to generation.
B: Yes, I can see that humiliation, resentment, and violence have been passed down by people who do not stop to think that things may have changed, that there may be a better way. Jesus, with his final acceptance of the woman and his gift of healing, has set aside these conventions of ethnic hatred. In his final words, he treats the woman as one of the faithful, and opens up the way for all of us to do the same.
T: That appeals to me, for this is the attitude that can heal these historical rifts and create community. Imagine if our peoples reached out to each other in love and acceptance. And that in spite of a long history of enmity between us, we accepted that we are all equally loved by God, and that our faith and worship could be shared and celebrated together. What is to stop it happening now?
Why is it that we all just cannot talk to one another to heal the hurts of history?
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Today there are voices that want us to think that the foreigner or our indigenous and colonised races are a threat –a danger to be kept away, or a problem to be ignored. There are voices that press us to toe the line and follow the well-worn traditions of society and remain comfortable, settled, and unchanging. But the path of discipleship instead takes us to liminal borders and beckons us into an uncertain future. It invites us to question, consider and maybe even change our minds. It calls us to live out our beliefs, to put into practice our ideals, to venture into ambiguous places and to travel along the path less followed. Then maybe, like Jesus, we too will be transformed.
Mercy: doesn’t need to be pristine, nor need to be huge. It doesn’t need to be protected, nor kept in a pot with a lid and a lock – and oh-so-carefully parcelled out to those deemed ‘deserving’. And … just a crumb will do.
Mercy: is not like pie, nor is it mealy-mouthed or stingy. It can’t be measured, cannot help itself cannot be contained. No matter how some try, still, it overspills the tables of power and privilege, subversively escaping in scraps and crumbs that are limitless, boundary-breaking and render tables irrelevant. And … just a crumb will do.
Mercy: is subversive, spilling out for all, even those deemed (by some) as: ‘undeserving’, ‘different’, ‘not one of us’. It re-draws the circle wider than the edges of our imagination. Just a crumb contains more than enough: more grace and love than we will ever need. And … just a crumb will do.
Exorcising the Canaanite Woman’s Daughter by Peter Gorman (1990)
An Informed Faith 