At Sinai we heard the voice of God (קוֹל אֱלהִים) speaking from the midst of the Fire (Deut. 4:33), an event that foreshadowed the great advent of the King and Lawgiver Himself, when the Eternal Word (דְבַר־יְהוָה) became flesh and dwelt with us (Phil. 2:6-7; John 1:1,14). Any theology that regards God as entirely transcendent (i.e., God is beyond any analogy with the finite) will have a problem with divine immanence (i.e., God is inherent and involved within the finite), since the highness, holiness, and perfection of God will make Him seem distant, outside of us, far away, and unknown…
Incarnational theology, on the other hand, manifests the magnificent humility and nearness of God to disclose the divine empathy. Indeed, the LORD became Immanuel (עִמָּנוּ אֵל), “God with us,” to share our mortal condition, to know our pain, and to experience what it means to be wounded by sin, to be abandoned, alienated, forsaken.
Some people make it the business of theology to know God’s Name, but God begins by first asking for our name instead. Recall that Jacob had disguised who he really was in the hope of obtaining the blessing (Gen. 27), though his duplicity forced him into an exile that lasted until he was finally willing to be honest with himself. And like Jacob, each of us must answer God’s question: “What is your name?” (Gen. 32:27). When we “wrestle through” this question to face who we really are, we encounter God and find our blessing, that is, our true identity. Each of us has to go through the process of being renamed from “manipulator” (i.e., Ya’akov) to “one in whom God rules” (i.e., Israel). But note the order: it is only when we “tell God our name,” that is, own who we really are, that He meets with us “face to face” (Gen. 32:30). You will not be able to say, “I will not let you go unless you bless me,” until you are willing tell God your name (Gen. 32:26-27).
Let me add that while “telling God your name” can be painful and even frightening, it is not the last word about who you really are. We are faced with an inner dualism as we struggle to take account of our lives. On the one hand, we need to confess the truth of our sinfulness, brokenness, and so on, while on the other we must endure ourselves and find faith that God’s blessing nevertheless belongs to us, despite the mess we’ve made of our lives…. We have to be willing to accept God’s new name for us and to believe that God will miraculously transform our inner nature for good. We are renamed from Yaa’kov to Israel, though we still know ourselves as both. Jacob was renamed “Israel” but afterward he walked with a limp, seeing both the new and the old natures within him. Jacob still struggled, though his struggle was now focused on walking as God’s beloved child in this world: the limp was given to help him lean on the Lord for support.
Part of spiritual growth involves learning to “endure yourself.” Many are able, it seems, to receive the hope that they are forgiven for their past sins, but they are subsequently scandalized by encountering their own inner struggles, and they eventually despair over their ongoing weakness… Tragically, some are even tempted to regard the warfare within the heart as a sign of being devoid of all saving grace! We must remember, however, that there is a real struggle between the desires of the flesh and the desires of the Spirit (Gal. 5:17). We must never move away from simple trust in the message of God’s unconditional love demonstrated at the cross; we must never seek to legitimize our place in God’s heart. When we walk by the Spirit, we are no longer under the law (Gal. 5:18), which is to say, we no longer need to justify ourselves but instead trust in God’s power to transform us. Just as we are saved by the love of God, so are we changed, so do we grow.
Before he could return from his exile, Jacob had to face his fears and wrestle with God. The outcome of the struggle was a blessing, as signified by a new name, “Israel” (יִשְׂרָאֵל), meaning one who who perseveres (שָׂרָה) with God (אֵל). Jacob finally prevailed with God when the power of his faith overcame the pain of his past… Jacob’s story teaches that before we can return from our place of exile, we have to face our fears and wrestle over who we really are.
In parashat Lekh-Lekha we read that Abram was 75 years old, married to (his half-sister) Sarai, and guardian of his nephew Lot (his deceased brother Haran’s son) when he received the promise of divine inheritance and left Mesopotamia for the Promised Land: “And the LORD said to Abram, “Go from (i.e., lekh-lekha: לך־לך) your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you:
Our Torah reading for this week (i.e., parashat Ki Teitzei) identifies 74 of the Torah’s 613 commandments (more than any other), which again invites the question of whether we are obligated to follow the law code of Moses or not… In this Shavuah Tov broadcast, I explore how we are to understand the law in light of the salvation given in Yeshua the Messiah. I hope you will find it both provocative and helpful.
In last week’s Torah reading (i.e., Shoftim), Moses defined an extensive system of justice for the Israelites and pointed to the coming Messiah who would be the rightful King of Israel: “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers — it is to him you shall listen” (Deut. 18:15). In this week’s portion (i.e., parashat Ki Teitzei: כי־תצא), Moses returns to the immediate concern of life in the promised land by providing additional laws to be enforced regarding civil life in Israel. In fact, Jewish tradition (following Maimonides) identifies no less than 74 of the Torah’s 613 commandments in this portion (more than any other), covering a wide assortment of rules related to ethical warfare, family life, burial of the deceased, property laws, the humane treatment of animals, fair labor practices, and honest economic transactions.
Of particular interest to us is the law regarding capital offenses and the instruction that one who was executed and “hanged on a tree” (עַל־עֵץ) is under the curse of God (Deut. 21:22-23). According to the Talmud (Nezakim: Sanhedrin 6:4:3), the Great Sanhedrin (סַנְהֶדְרִין גְדוֹלָה) decided that “a man must be hanged with his face towards the spectators” upon a wooden stake, with his arms slung over a horizontal beam. It should be noted that while this is technically not the same thing as the gruesome practice of Roman crucifixion, the reasoning based on this verse was apparently used to justify the execution of Yeshua (Mark 15:9-15; John 19:5-7; 15). The exposed body was required to be buried before sundown to keep the land from being defiled. Besides the shame of this manner of death, the one so executed would be unable to fall to their knees as a final act of repentance before God, thereby implying that they were under the irrevocable curse of God (קִלְלַת אֱלהִים).
Shalom chaverim. The way we choose to see is ultimately a spiritual decision. In this “Daily Dvar” audio broadcast, I discuss what I call the “Torah of the Good Eye” and the spiritual need to seek goodness in everyday reality. I hope you will find it helpful.
Shalom chaverim yakarim. In this “Daily Dvar broadcast” (see link below) I discuss what I have called the “blessing of holy desperation” (ברכת יֵאוּשׁ הקדוש), which I define as that very special blessing of needing God so viscerally that you would otherwise fall apart or even self-destruct apart from his ongoing intervention in your life. It is this great blessing of “brokenness” that reveals God’s compassion and grace in our lives… I hope you will find it helpful.
As people of faith in the LORD, we profoundly feel the tension between affirming both that our loving Creator sustains all things by the word of his power and also acknowledging the ongoing depravity of human beings and how that results in suffering, heartache, and pain in this world. In the following theological audio discussion, I ponder some questions that arise when we seriously consider these matters..
In today’s “Daily Dvar” broadcast I hope to encourage you to live without fear because of the great love and grace the Lord has for you. The Lord has personally redeemed you, friend; he calls you by name, and you belong to him. Indeed the Lord loves you “b’ahavat olam” – with everlasting love – and therefore he draws you close to him (Jer. 31:3). Shalom chaverim.