The Inescapable Clause

Micah 3:1

Contracts come with clauses. Each one delineates the expectations and the responsibilities of those entering the contract. Anyone who has bought a house knows all about the clauses that make a contract—the buyer includes a clause that the sale will be null if the seller cannot repair the roof; the seller includes a clause that says the sale is null if the buyer cannot raise the funds by a certain date—and on they go—the stipulations by which the business will be transacted. 

The Old Testament is full of clauses because God’s relationship with Israel is contractual—God said it himself as he gave Moses the Law on Sinai—

And Moses summoned all Israel and said to them, “Hear, O Israel, the statutes and the 

rules that I speak in your hearing today, and you shall learn them and be careful to do 

them. The Lord our God made a covenant with us in Horeb…“‘I am the Lord your God, 

who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

“‘You shall have no other gods before me.

“‘You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that 

is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under 

the earth…

You see? A remarkable list of stipulations comprise the Ten Commandments—all based on the understanding that God will be there for Israel as long as they fulfill their responsibility to be obedient.

The thing of it is, there is an inescapable clause within the covenant between God and God’s people, one that cannot be sidestepped or ignored or treated apathetically—it is the stipulation to live in and by love. As you read through either Leviticus or Deuteronomy, it is so very easy to get lost in all of the codes for everything, for all the directed behaviors in community life and worship, and for all the ways in which a person might carry themselves through each day. Christ recognized our confusion, so he simplified it—what God expects of us is to love God with our whole being and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves—that is the core meaning and purpose of the over 600 laws found in the Torah. That means that all we say or do in faith praxis needs to be a manifestation of love—a reflection of the love that is God, a sure sign that we have understood the implications of the presence of God in our lives, and a commitment to God’s direction of our lives. 

Now, of course, we run into a problem here—our ability to be good faith partners in this contract.

A good many of us know what it is like when a contract falls to pieces—someone cannot or will not hold up their end of the bargain—the bank loan falls through for the home buyer, the roofer gets backlogged and the roof remains unfixed on schedule, and so on. The worst experiences are when someone chooses not to meet the expectations of the agreement, especially if one person has already done everything asked of her. There she is, left holding a great, big bag of nothing, feeling misused, betrayed, and certainly let down. That hurts.

…and the lawsuits begin to fly!

At least, in the human realm. 

But what of God and God’s realm? What happens there?

As people in these pews, the Church schooled us in the ways of grace. In Christ, there is forgiveness, reconciliation, and a setting aside of debts unpaid. Yes, but…and, yes, this “but” carries massive implications…there is no such thing as cheap grace. 20th Century theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, employed that term extensively in his theology as he sought to understand the presence of God in a world as broken as ours (remember, Bonhoeffer died in a Nazi prison camp, so he knew evil firsthand). What he could not abide was a crass, superficial gospel of grace that led to an image of God as a celestial Santa Claus—a deity too nice to hold anyone accountable for much of anything and welcoming us all into heaven with no regard for the manner in which life was lived. No, God as Judge demands obedience—grace is not a dismissal of this demand, but an assurance that God will remain with us as we make the effort to be obedient, but we have to make the effort!

Dr. J.B. Stroud was the kindest professor I had in college. He was also incredibly demanding. He was also a Presbyterian Elder. I took Calculus II from him during my freshman year. I will readily confess that I am a Liberal Artist through and through—math and I have a hate-hate relationship! Calculus is a mathematics of rules, processes, and, if you can master them, shortcuts. I could never—and I mean, never—master the shortcuts, so while my classmates blitzed through quizzes and equations, I would wrestle through each painful step of finding an answer. It was clear to both Dr. Stroud and me that I was going to earn a big, fat “F” in class. But Dr. Stroud practiced grace, and it was a “Bonhoeffer” grace. The final exam was five problems. In the three hour period, I got through about 3/4 of the first problem. I was sunk. Afterwards, Dr. Stroud invited me into his office to review my pitiful paper. Basically, he asked me to walk him through what I did for those three hours. I did. He saw that I actually did spend all 180 minutes on one stupid problem. He shook his head, asked me if I had any intention of ever darkening the halls of the Math Department again—no—and what I planned to do with my life—I knew seminary, but not much else—he smiled, marked my exam with the “F” it deserved, but gave me a “C” for the semester, saving my GPA—he saw how I worked, appreciated the effort, and helped me. 

That is how God works with us. 

Embodying the love of Christ is beyond human capability. That is why Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ. But, God does not leave us to wallow in our futility. As we make the effort to walk with Christ, God walks with us, transcending and transforming who and what we are into disciples. God intervenes to make it possible for us to live in and through love. God makes it possible for grace to reign in our interactions, interlocutions, and interconnections with each other. God makes it possible for us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. 

But we have to make the effort.

Enter Micah—his oracle is fairly clear—God wants to know why the shepherds over the people Israel have failed to love those people in their rule. You see, justice is the technical term for love of neighbor in the Old Testament (righteousness is its partner for love of God). What God wants to know is why those who have absolutely no excuse for not knowing the terms of the contract between God and the people are not abiding by the terms. What quickens the ire of God is the complete lack of effort. What further fans the flames is the apathy about not fulfilling those terms. 

Christ echoed that ire in a closing statement to a wonderful living parable of fulfilling God’s expectations—the care of the children, literal and figurative—the Least of These—surrounding them with love—if someone should willfully choose to ignore this call, here is the consequence:

Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for

him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth

of the sea.

—Mt. 18:6

So…

Faith is contractual. God is God, and God will be with us, but we are to respond by giving God the best effort we are able to make in being followers of Christ, not sidestepping, not diluting, not reinterpreting, and not shirking the call to embody love—love for God and love for neighbor—all of our lives.

Then, all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.