Our study of the law and its place in the life of the Church has to begin nowhere else but with the Old Testament. The reasons for this is simple. Jesus assumed it as his starting point, and so did Paul; the Old Testament was their Scriptures. The Jews' perception of the law, what it was meant to do and what it required, of course, changed over the centuries, but this fundamental principle remains that, unless we have first understood the Old Testament view of the law we will fail to understand what comes afterwards.
The first thing we should notice is that there is no mention of the law until Exo 20, even though there are already episodes after episodes of God working in gracious provisions on behalf of the patriarchs. The most dramatic and, as far as the founding of ancient Israel as a nation is concerned, the most significant is their salvation and liberation from slavery in Egypt related in the early chapters of Exodus. This is the key salvific event of the Old Testament. And what is most significant about this great act of salvation was that the Israelites were not required to fulfill any prior laws before they were saved. "I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians . . ." (Exo3:7-8). Israel's salvation from Egypt was a pure act of divine grace. The first hint of the law came only at Mount Sinai when God intimated that Israel enters into a covenant relationship with Him:
`You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself. Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.'
The Hebrew word torah (or tôrâ) — which is nowadays invariably translated "law" in English versions of the Old Testament — and the Greek nomos, 'law,' did not entirely coincide with one another in their range of meanings, but given the circumstances the choice of nomos for torah was defensible. Israel saw itself as a commonwealth, a nation bound together by common 'laws.' These 'laws' were founded in their root as a people descended from "Abraham, Isaac and Jacob," and as an elect nation grounded in and bound by the revelations of God given through Moses. The divinely given torah was, for all practical purposes, the nomos, "law" of the nation.1
The problem began to get confusing when the circles of meaning of the two words — torah and "law" — began to grow and the overlap became increasingly smaller so that the continuing usage of the one word ("law") to translate the other (torah) causes what is meant by the one word ("law") to infect the other (torah) with nuances that were not implicit to it. Bruce Waltke puts the problem simply:
The traditional rendering of tôrâ by "lex" (Augustine), "Gesetz" (Luther), and "Law" (English Versions) is misleading, for the sense of law in the Western world derives from the Roman world. Law in our world denotes an impersonal code of conduct and actions recognized as binding and enforced through penalties by a collective authority. But tôrâ in the Hebrew Bible means primarily "catechistic teaching," which gives the elect nation instruction and guidance and is its constitution. The Ten Commandments, for example, have no penalties attached directly to each of them. The term is so rich in meaning that it is best transliterated.2
The veracity of Waltke's assertion can be illustrated by such usage of torah as in Pro 1:8:
Listen, my son, to your father's instruction and do not forsake your mother's teaching (torah).
Pro 3:1:
My son, do not forget my teaching (torah), but keep my commands in your heart,
Pro 4:1-2:
Listen, my sons, to a father's instruction; pay attention and gain understanding. I give you sound learning, so do not forsake my teaching (torah).
Pro 6:20-23:
My child, keep your father's commandment, and do not forsake your mother's torah. Bind them upon your heart forever; fasten them around your neck. When you walk, they will guide you; when you sleep, they will watch over you; when you awake, they will speak to you. For these commands are a lamp, this teaching (torah) is a light, and the corrections of discipline are the way to life.
Prov 13:14:
The teaching (torah) of the wise is a fountain of life, turning a man from the snares of death.
Pro 31:10-26:
A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. . . She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction (torah) is on her tongue.
By translating torah with "law" we transfer the word from one semantic world - pedagogical (having to do with instructions) and covenantal (having to do with the relationship between God and His people) - to that of the law courts, and we unconsciously import into the word torah all shades of forensic significance of the word "law" that are not signified by torah. The assurance of the "He-I" relationship Israel had with Yahweh, and within which the torah was given, is erased and in its place is substituted the tyrannical imposition of an impersonal "It-I" operation. The gracious relationship of "I shall be their God and they shall be my people" is replaced by the punitive and authoritarian relationship between a judge and an offender. It is due to this failure to appreciate the confusion arising out of the difference between what torah meant and was intended to do and what is hoisted upon it when it is translated by "law" that has led to the kind of spurious use of a traffic law to illustrate what biblical law means by the preacher cited above. Giving you a ticket for exceeding the speed limit is just not how God, or His torah, works (not that He is indifferent to our irresponsibility and often rebellious ways). It is a gross misrepresentation of who God is and what He wills for his torah as Scriptures portrays it.
Now that we have clarified what the torah does not mean, let us look at what it is and what purpose it serves in Israel's life as reported in the Old Testament.
The first thing to notice about any piece of instruction is that it reflects the character and will of the instructor. If my son comes home from school with a black eye and he tells me that Muthu had hit him I can say one of a number of things to my son. I can say, "Hop into the car right now. We'll go find Muthu and when we do, you get out there and you sock him in both eyes, OK?" Or I can say, "I am sorry that you got into this. What happened? Let me hear your story and see how we can resolve this, OK?" Now, by which of these two alternative instructions I give my son you can tell what sort of a person I am. Just so, the torah reveals what kind of a God Yahweh is, what He is like in His character. When He says, "You shall be holy," it reflects His character as a holy God. "Do not murder" reveals His concern for human lives. "Do not commit adultery" shows Him to be a God who cares to be faithful and desires that we should be. The sacrificial instructions, strange though they may be to us, point to Him as the God who cares that we should not be bogged down by our conscience when we have done wrong; they provide a means of grace by which we are reminded that He is a gracious and merciful God—when we repent He forgives and the sacrificial instructions are the visible means of letting us know so. The torah is, therefore, like a mirror. When we, with Israel, reflect on the torah we see reflected in them the holy gracious character of God. By instructing us to obey the torah God in fact invites us into developing the discipline of being like God in who He is. It is God's new beginning for us that, like Adam and Eve in the days they were created, we should be "re-created" in His image, in His likeness. The constant refrain we find in the Old Testament, "Be holy as I the Lord your God is holy" sums up what the torah does for us in this instance.
But alongside the character of God that we see reflected in the torah we also see reflected our own sinful inadequate selves. If we are honest with ourselves we will recognize, as Paul did, that we often do not wish to, and frequently are not able to, obey. When this happens our meditation on the torah drives us back to reflect on our need for God and His strength. And if we succumb and fall, we are not cast out into the outer darkness. Unlike the summon for a traffic offence, the torah does not work like that. For those Israelites who fall, there are the provisions of the sacrificial instructions that remind them that there can be forgiveness where there is genuine repentance.
When we dismiss the torah's place in our life not only do we miss this awesome view of God in His mercy and holiness, we also miss the opportunity for appreciating how we may concretely live a life that pleases God. The torah provides concrete illustrations of how Israel may please God, and when we understand that we too can begin to do likewise.
Implicit in most Christian teaching about the "law" in the Old Testament is the theological assumption that salvation in the New Testament is by grace whereas salvation in the Old Testament is by obedience to the "law." While this assumption is widespread it has no basis in Scriptures.
The act of God that most powerfully established Israel as the redeemed people of God was the deliverance of Israel from slavery in Egypt (Exo 1-15). But notice that this was before the "laws" were given to Israel. Meeting Moses at the burning bush, God did not give him two stone tablets on which were inscribed the laws and instructed him to return to Egypt and teach the law to the people while God waited to see if they would obey and prove worthy of salvation. Instead God said to Moses:
"I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey-- the home of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt." (Exo 3:7-10)
"I have seen . . . I have heard . . . I am concerned . . . So I have come down to rescue them." These are declarations of grace. Israel was saved by grace. All that they had to do was, when the time came, to take the blood of the Passover lamb and smear on their doorpost to signify their thrust (i.e., their faith) in Yahweh and His promise. Like salvation for the Christian, there was nothing Israel could do to save herself, and nothing else she needed to do to be saved, apart from leaning on God's grace. This is the unchallengeable refrain of everything the Old Testament says about Israel and her relationship with God.
Like salvation for the Christian,
there was nothing Israel could do,
and nothing else she needed to do,
to save herself,
apart from leaning on God's grace.
To this we must add another important passage. When Moses returned to Egypt and attempted to persuade Pharaoh to release the Israelites, Pharaoh made the Israelite's burden heavier still by requiring them to fulfill their quota of bricks but without supplying them with the needed straw. When the Israelites complained to Moses and he, in turn, complained to Yahweh, Yahweh said to him (Exo 6:2-8):
I am the Lord. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as God Almighty, but by my name the Lord I did not make myself known to them. I also established my covenant with them to give them the land of Canaan, where they lived as aliens. Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant.
Therefore, say to the Israelites: "I am the Lord, and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God, who brought you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. And I will bring you to the land I swore with uplifted hand to give to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. I will give it to you as a possession. I am the Lord."
This declaration asserts that Israel's salvation was not a matter of their obedience but a matter of divine grace whence Yahweh in His faithfulness remembered the promises that He had made to the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and which the Israelites seemed plain to have forgotten. That promise took the form of a covenant, an agreement between two unequal parties, and in this case, it was the greater party - Yahweh - who took seriously and thus kept His end of the deal in remembering His promise. At the same time, something new is also happening here. In declaring that He would "take you as my own people, and I will be your God," God was signallng His intention to enter into a new covenant with Israel that would be established on the basis of His new work of redemption and deliverance of the Israelites from the burdens of Egypt and into the blessedness of the Promised Land.
This sense of overt consciousness of being saved by pure grace is reflected with triumphant joy in the song they composed and sang immediately after the crossing of the Red Sea (Exo 15:1-18):
"I will sing to the Lord,
for he is highly exalted.
The horse and its rider
he has hurled into the sea.
The Lord is my strength and my song;
he has become my salvation.
He is my God, and I will praise him,
my father's God, and I will exalt him . . .
. . .
In your unfailing love you will lead
the people you have redeemed.
In your strength you will guide them
to your holy dwelling.
It was only subsequent to this great act of gracious redemption that the "laws" were given. Notice how in the entire account of Israel's establishment as God's people so far, the question of sin does not arise at all. This is not to say that sin was not at work in the account; it was, and powerfully so, as can be seen in the Pharaoh's oppression, his murder of the Hebrew babies, his hardening of heart in the face of clear divine signs. Though not highlighted in anyway in the account it can be assumed that the Hebrews were not themselves sinless. But sin is not an issue that Yahweh felt He needed to deal with then. For the moment He was simply concerned to deal with the hardship they were suffering. That continues often to be God's way. How many of us have not come to trust in Christ not because of a powerful conviction of sin and of His ability to deal with it? How many of us have not come to Christ simply because He arose to meet us where and when we had come to the end of the rope? How many of us have not experience this outpouring of His goodness and only then come to recognize sin as the root of our broken life and then begin to understand the full significance and power of His death and resurrection to deal with sin? The idea that "no law equals no sin. No sin equals no need for a Saviour" is simply too simplistic; it is divorced from the life of faith in the real world and fails to take seriously the witness of Scriptures.
Now, if Israel was, like us, saved by grace and not by "the works of the law" what then could possibly be the purpose of the "laws"?
Since the torah was given to Israel in the context of their establishment as Yahweh's people, the key to understanding its purpose must be sought in that context. So, what does it mean to be God's people? This is a massive question, embracing a whole plethora of other questions, among which is how the people of God is to be identified? What distinguishes them out from any other people, those who are not chosen? What does it mean to be "set apart" to Yahweh?
The most immediate answer - one that is almost tautological - is that Israel was to be holy, which, of course, is what being "set apart" means. Peppered all over the Old Testament discourse on the torah is the constant unvarying refrain, "Be holy as I Yahweh, your God, is holy":
Leviticus 11:44-45: "I am the Lord your God; consecrate yourselves and be holy, because I am holy. Do not . . . I am the Lord who brought you up out of Egypt to be your God; therefore be holy, because I am holy."
Leviticus 19:2: "Speak to the entire assembly of Israel and say to them: 'Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy. "'Each of you must . . ."
Leviticus 20:7-8 "Consecrate yourselves and be holy, because I am the Lord your God. Keep my decrees and follow them. I am the Lord, who makes you holy."
Leviticus 20:26: "You are to be holy to me because I, the Lord, am holy, and I have set you apart from the nations to be my own."
Having saved her and established her as His people, God gave Israel the torah. One way of picturing what the torah does for Israel is to say that the torah was not the gate that Israel had to open by her obedience and through which she then walked to become God's people. She was already God's people, and the torah was the fence that marks out the territory within which she may properly dwell in safety and satisfaction as God's people. If Israel should go beyond this fence, i.e., she transgressed it, she knew her relationship with Yahweh was in jeopardy and what she needed to do was to repent, i.e., to turn around. The torah, in another word, helps us to practice the presence of God.
Low Chai Hok
©Alberith, 2013