For the first time now we are introduced in a sustained sort of way to the "law" (t�r� , or more popularly, torah).1 The discussion about the meaning and place of the torah in the theology and life of the Christian covers a broad and complex terrain, enmeshed often with a myriad of secondary issues. It is impossible to provide even a mere summary of it here. All we can do is to sketch out a number of salient points that will guide us in our reading of Deuteronomy.
First, we need to be careful not to fall prey to the easy temptation of importing into our reading of Deuteronomy the Christian debate over the relationship of the law to the gospel, especially as it is framed by Paul's exposition of it in his epistles to the Romans and Galatians, and by the debates among theologians during the 16th Cent Reformation. It is a debate that is habitually defined in terms of a decisive dichotomy between law and grace, and as a result of which many Christians come to the Old Testament with their minds already made up that "salvation in the Old Testament is by obedience to the law, while salvation in the New Testament is by faith and grace." Within such a paradigm, the laws—even if they are given acquiescence somewhere in the back of the mind as God's word—naturally become a burden, not some thing to find joy in. This perception of the law is, of course, utterly opposed to the affirmative and joyful embrace the Old Testament gives it.2 We must dispel of this old chestnut—that redemption in the Old Testament is accomplished via works of the law, by obedience to it—for the simple reason that it is clearly foreign to the self-attestation of the Old Testament. It forgets that Moses did not receive two tablets on which the laws were written at the burning bush. His call was to go and "bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt" (Exo.3:10). Even before the first article of the Decalogue was pronounced Israel was already declared by God to be "for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exo.19:6). If the law was given to Israel after their definitive experience of redemption as God's people, it can hardly be argued that Israel was saved by obedience to the law! The torah was never a gate through which Israel enters to become the people of God. Israel, like the Christian, was redeemed by an act of pure grace of Yahweh—"I have indeed seen the misery of my people . . . and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them" (Exo.3:7-8).
There is a second paradigm shift that we need to make in our effort to appreciate the laws in Deuteronomy. This has to do with what the laws are. It is now widely recognized that the traditional rendering of t�r� by the term 'law' is misleading. "Law in our world denotes an impersonal code of conduct and actions recognized as binding and enforced through penalties by a controlling authority. But t�r� in the Hebrew Bible means primarily 'catechistic teaching . . ."3 P. Enns concludes on a similar vein; "if one were to attempt to capture the essence of t�r� in the OT, 'instruction' or 'teaching,' rather than 'law' with its particular modern connotations, may be terms that best do justice to the variety of uses. T�r� is instruction, whether cultic or civil, whether in the form of specific legal stipulations or less formal words of guidance from parent to child . . ."4 This perception of the torah helps us to appreciate Deuteronomy in two ways.
Firstly, all instructions or teachings reflect their giver's character and will. If my teenaged daughter came home from dinner and discovered that the restaurateur had undercharged her, I could tell her to pocket the difference as a happy windfall. Or I could tell her to turn the car around and pay the restaurateur the proper fare. By which of these alternative instructions I give my daughter, you can tell what sort of a person I am, as well as presage what I will likely do in other situations. In like fashion, the torah reflects Yahweh's character and will. Meditating on the torah Israel would see refractions of God's holy character. Set against such a backdrop, however, she would also see reflected there her own sinful rebellious nature. Obeying the torah Israel practices being like God, and in the process is shaped to be like God. The torah is, therefore, a gift given by the Father by which Israel learns to bear the family likeness. From this perspective the individual instructions may be pictured as the fence-posts that chart out the territory of Israel's family identity as the people of God. Beyond those posts Israel knows that she stands in danger of transgressing her status, and forfeiting her security, as Yahweh's people. To choose to obey the torah is, therefore, to choose to step away from one's sinful inclination to transgress those fence-posts and commit to the constant call of Scriptures to "be holy as I Yahweh am holy."
To answer the question of whether the Old Testament laws are still applicable to the Christians, many preachers distinguish between the so-called ritual/liturgical laws from civil laws from the moral-ethical ones, with the general idea that the first two categories are no longer relevant to Christians, but the last is. Such a distinction, however, is artificial, and, in practice, hard-pressed to be consistent. If the torah is—every one of them—a revelation of Yahweh's character, then surely everyone of them is normative. One way out of this question of relevance, then, is to ask what about the nature and character of God does such and such an instruction—whether we think it ritual/liturgical, civil, or moral-ethical—reveal, and then to translate that into the particularities of our own context and times.
Secondly, Yahweh's instructions also reveal his will. Now, while God's character remains the same, his will for Israel may differ from one situation to another. A father might, for example, say to his son that he is free to cycle within the housing estate but instruct her daughter that she cannot cycle beyond where he can see her, while claiming that he is gender impartial and loves his two children equally. A person learning of this might easily charge the father for being a hypocrite if she does not realize that his son is fifteen and his daughter six. Just so, God's instruction for Israel in different circumstances will differ while he remains constant to who he is. What this means for us is the need to ascertain as well as we can the context of the torah. This way we avoid confusing those instructions that were given for some situation peculiar to ancient Israel with those that have universal significance for all who would live pleasing to God.
Our suggestion for reading the torah draws its strength from the nature of the instructions themselves, though it application to the text may still, of course, be fraught with misacceptations. Though speaking in particular about Reformed Theology and the grace found in Christ, John Burgess's observes that "In Reformed thinking, a life that is grasped by God's grace in Christ seeks the orders, structures, and forms (that is, law) that makes life before God and life in human society possible. Law—if truly God's law—is grace-filled; it is life-giving."5 And yet a life that is grasped by God's grace is precisely what we find Deuteronomy so insistently portrays is what the torah was meant to do for ancient Israel.
Low Chai Hok
©Alberith, 2019