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"Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all God's holy people in Christ Jesus at Philippi, together with the overseers and deacons: Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:1-2).
Today, we begin a new series on Wilderness Wanderings. Pastor Anthony and I have decided to work through the book of Philippians with you. We will likely hit ever verse in this tightly packed letter to this New Testament church scattered throughout the city of Philippi.
Like most of Paul's letters, it begins by identifying the authors, the recipients of the letter, and a greeting. These opening elements were standard in ancient letter writing. However, Paul modifies them slightly. In the alterations to the norm, he gives us hints of the pressing issues which the letter will address.
Along with the names of the authors, we are given a descriptive phrase, 'servants of Christ Jesus'. Such a descriptive phrase, though common in the apostle's letters, was not the norm in ancient days. The word servant is better translated as slave. His readers would notice the unmistakable overtones of humility and submission in this self-descriptive word. Paul is nearing the end of his life. He has served many years as an apostle, planted numerous churches, and in other letters heaped up his credentials, but here, in this letter, he willingly names himself a slave of Jesus Christ; nothing more.
Paul provides a model of the humility and concern for the interests of others that he will urge on the Philippians. Although Paul is God's apostle, set apart and called by him to his task (Rom. 1:2; Gal. 1:1, 15), and although Timothy is an approved co-worker with Paul in this important service (Phil. 2:22; cf. 1 Cor. 4:17), Paul refuses to mention these high qualifications in the letter's opening. He prefers instead to emphasize his and Timothy's common role as slaves of Christ Jesus. He is careful, on the other hand, to give the leaders of the Philippian church their appropriate titles of dignity. By constructing his greeting in this manner, he has, in a small way, showed concern not for his own interests but for the interests of others (cf. 2:4).
It sets the stage for the letter and stands as an example for the Christians and particularly for the 'overseers and deacons'. Life in the church is not about advancement, it is not about the accruement of titles and honours. It was not then, and it should not be now. In the Christian Reformed Church, we used to talk about deacons as elders in training. That should not have been. Deacons and elders are the same in status, different only in role and gifting. And pastors have no greater status.
While singling out the leaders of the church, the overseers and deacons, Paul writes to all members of the church in the city. Most likely a loose network of house churches. His letter is to be received by all Christians. The encouragement and correction he will offer is for the whole church, not just the leaders.
He names the Christians "saints", a term referring to their status as the people whom God has called out from among others and set apart. This title is rooted in Israel's identity as God's people in the Old Testament. It has nothing to do with our modern notion about being holier than others. Rather, it's a calling to live our lives according to the pattern laid out by Jesus and to live our lives empowered by the Holy Spirit.
The term saint reminds the Philippians that they are united with one another not by their own decision but by God's having chosen them out of all the peoples of the earth to be his treasured possession (cf. Ex. 19:5–6). We tend to miss this in our democratic society in which the individual has the ultimate choice. We get to choose which congregation to belong to. I suspect that such ideas were not known in the early church. They saw themselves as church because they had been brought together in Christ's blood. God now calls them to follow Christ together.
In his opening words, Paul stressed through his own example of humility and through his naming of the letter's recipients as "saints" both the importance of Christian unity and one critical means of achieving that unity—placing the interests of others ahead of one's own.
The most effective way to achieve unity is not to demand that everyone agree but to look out for the interests of others, refusing to claim for ourselves the privileges that rightfully belong to us.
As you journey on, go with the blessing of God, keeping your eyes on the humility of Christ Jesus:
May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you.
May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm.
May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you.
May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.
An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Luke 24:13-35 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!
To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca
DIVE IN QUESTIONS
1. The angels asked the women on that Easter morning in Luke: "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" What about you? Are you looking for a living Jesus to meet you today in this worship service?
2. What is your Emmaus? That is, what's the place you go or thing you do when you're angry, grieving, or simply want to escape your life?
3. What did you learn or see anew in the story of Cleopas and his fellow traveler on their journey to (and back again from) Emmaus today?
4. What did Jesus do to listen and renew the hope and faith of these downcast disciples? What might have he said about the feasts do you think…?
5. Where do you see the living Jesus today? Where might you see him in the days to come? And how might you share that good news of the living Jesus with other disciples in need of hope?
The Good Friday 2023 edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Leviticus 23:26-32 from the New International Version of the Bible.
"These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates" (Deuteronomy 6:6-9).
There is an old story of a talented and gifted bloodhound in England that started a hunt by chasing a full-grown male deer. During the chase a fox crossed his path, so he began to chase the fox. A rabbit crossed his hunting path, so he began to chase the rabbit. After a while, a tiny field mouse crossed his path, and he chased the mouse to the corner of a farmer's barn.
There is a moral to this story: we are like the bloodhound. We start the day by loving God but by day's end we find ourselves in the corner of the barn loving something much smaller, much less impressive, something that has not loved us.
Ah, but there is nothing about love in our text for today, you say. This is true. Often, we separate our text from the words of the Shema which Pastor Anthony reflected on yesterday. We do so to our demise. All the commandments are summed up in the command to love God. And we can only love him because he has first loved us (1 John 4:19).
Recall, how God begins the ten covenant words, "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery" (5:6). Paul borrows this language when he explores what God has done for us in Christ, "So you are no longer a slave, but God's child" (Galatians 4:7). God does not ask for obedience to be rooted in duty or being afraid of God; rather, it derives from gratitude. We have been set free to serve him.
There is no break in the Hebrew text between today's words and yesterdays. Love is not absent from our text. For the Israelites, the heart was the seat of thought, memory, and love. In the heart, they were to ponder their history, remember all God had done for them, and respond to him in obedient love.
God instructed the Israelites to always keep his commands before their eyes: as symbols on their hands and foreheads, written on doorframes and gates. Later, Israel will make the mistake of believing that if they keep this literally, all would be well. But that was not the point. The point was that were to put the law into practice all the time. And the adults were to discuss with the children how they were applying the law of God; the children were to see and hear how the adults were loving God.
We find the word, "impress" in our text. What might that mean? How do we do this? I suggest that we cannot impress with words alone. Words are certainly helpful and needed. Somehow children recognize when our words and actions do not function together. And it is not just that adults, especially parents, need to obey God. What is most important for impressing children, is that they witness adults loving God and keeping his commands. Children need to see that obedience follows love.
When Paul writes that parents ought not to exasperate their children, this is one of the things he is addressing. How can we expect our children to love God if they do not see us loving him? Why should our children obey God if our obedience is only out of duty? When parents, and other adults, have God's commands on their hearts, obedience becomes a matter of love. This leaves an impression.
Love in the daily matters of life, in the little things. Mother Teresa once said, "There are no big deals anymore, just small things to be done with great love." I think she was paraphrasing Paul, who wrote, "The only thing that matters is faith working itself out in love" (Galatians 5:6).
There are many things to chase after in this world. But there is only one that saves. There is only one that is worthy of our love. And that is the cross, where God demonstrated his love for us. Only the cross will continue to draw us into the love of God. That is the only love worth passing on.
שְׁמַ֖ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵ֖ינוּ יְהוָ֥ה׀ אֶחָֽד׃וְאָ֣הַבְתָּ֔ אֵ֖ת יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֑יךָ בְּכָל־לְבָבְךָ֥ וּבְכָל־נַפְשְׁךָ֖ וּבְכָל־מְאֹדֶֽךָ׃
Shema yisrael Adonai eloheinu Adonai echad. Ve'ahavta et Adonai eloheykha bekhol-levavkha u'vekhol nafshekha u'vekhol me'odekha.
Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.(Deuteronomy 6:4-5)
This text is known as "The Shema." It is so named for it's first word in Hebrew which is, "shema," the Hebrew word for listening and obeying. Jews of later years would recite these words twice every day—once in the morning and then again in the evening.
You will also recognize these words, of course, as that "first and greatest commandment" that Jesus gives in the New Testament. How can he name the Shema as greater than any of the Ten Commandment Words we just looked at, you may wonder. Well, it's because in some way, this command to love the Lord firstly, only, and completely is the inverse, positive version of the "you shall nots" that began the Ten Words of the Covenant in chapter 5.
The Ten Words, aside from the command to "observe the Sabbath" and "honour parents" are all negative commands—prohibitions that tell us what not to do. Once our life and heart have been swept clean in this way however, it's important that something positive and constructive comes in. The Shema is just that sort of command. In the ever-growing absence of covetousness and idols from your heart and life, a positive love for the Lord your God is to take up residence instead. Indeed, if Jesus is to be taken seriously, this positive love for the Lord may in fact be that thing that drives the lusts and the idols from our hearts. This positive force of love for the God who has first loved us is the power that enables us to keep faith with the Ten Words of the Relational Covenant.
It really is fascinating what Jesus does here by naming the Shema as the first and greatest of commands. There is a sense in which the Shema is simply a summation of the Ten Words. In that case, we might say that Jesus is simply naming the Covenant with its Ten Words as primary to everything else. But there is also a sense in which the Shema differs from the Ten Words. A sense in which a positive command is different from a negative one. A sense in which a proactive love is more significant to shaping the direction of a life than a limiting prohibition. It may be too much to say, but I do wonder if the difference is like unto the difference between the negative, limiting law which brings death, and the positive, constructive force of the Spirit that brings life.
Think of it: pruning and growing. Emptying and filling. Deconstructing and Reconstructing. Both are part of the rhythm of life, and both necessarily have their place. But life is no life at all if the "pruning" itself is the ultimate goal for the plant. No, the pruning, the cutting back, the emptying, the prohibitions always serve a goal other than themselves—namely the goals of life, growth, filling, and flourishing relationships. The emphasis does not finally fall on the limiting prohibitions of the law, but on the gracious growth enabled by the Spirit. Both the pruning prohibitions and the imperatives to growth have their place, but Jesus places the emphasis finally on that growth imperative of love: The Shema.
At times we pit these two impulses against each other, as if one must win out at the total exclusion of the other. Many of our present church conflicts and culture wars revolve around such false dichotomies. But the scriptures always hold these two in a dialectic tension. The two impulses have to remain in dialogue with each other, as they do in Deuteronomy 5 and 6. Neither can be flattened nor excluded. And yet, Jesus reminds us that one impulse is to be the leading partner in the dance—the impulse to whom the other defers.
"'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
"The Lord heard you when you spoke to me, and the Lord said to me, "I have heard what this people said to you. Everything they said was good. Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear me and keep all my commands always, so that it might go well with them and their children forever!... Then Moses said, "So be careful to do what the Lord your God has commanded you; do not turn aside to the right or to the left. Walk in obedience to all that the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong your days in the land that you will possess" (Deuteronomy 5:28-33).
There are two things about the character of our covenant God that are worth paying attention to in today's Scripture.
First, he is a responsive deity. This is not something we spend enough time pondering. Israel wanted Moses to be the meditator between God and his people. And God answered, "Ya, that is a good idea." His response is warm and positive. Something similar happened when Israel wanted a king. That was not such a good idea; God's response was not warm, but he still told Samuel to go along with it.
Christians tend to think that God has history all figured out. But that does not seem to square with the testimony of Scripture. There is interaction between God and his people, there is dialogue, there seems to be room for give and take. This, I think, gives us courage in our praying. It gives us freedom to ask God for things. Jesus taught us that we receive when we ask. Israel asked, and they received.
It is wise to pair this teaching with the reminder that we, the covenant people, need to 'fear the Lord.' This fear of God is not the same as being afraid of a monster or a bully. Israel had learned the fear of God because of two things. She had seen the tremendous power of God as he delivered her from the oppression of the Egyptians. Then she had stood before the Lord at Mount Sinai. The people had heard God speak to them and lived to tell the story. Seeing God's power at work and standing in his awesome presence are the experiences which produced the fear of God.
This fear is mingled with thanksgiving for God's saving work in our lives. It is the proper response towards our glorious and gracious God. Fear belongs to those who know God's saving work on their behalf. This sort of fear should be ours after we celebrate Good Friday and Easter this weekend.
And now, a second quality about God that we find in this passage. He displays a divine wistfulness, "Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear me and keep all my commands always." God knows his people. He knows our propensity to give up on fearing him. When fear falls away, obedience becomes mere duty. And that sort of obedience rarely lasts long. God knows that; he longs for it not to be so.
This is not the only place we find this quality of God. It surfaces regularly in the Old Testament, and it moved Jesus after he entered Jerusalem on that donkey. We find him weeping over Jerusalem's unwillingness to experience God's redemption (Luke 19: 41-44).
A deep sense of awe in his presence is the only thing that will produce the worship of daily obedience. God wants his people to prosper. He wants to bless them so that they prosper. But he knows that they will disobey him; they will not keep covenant. As a result, he will need to withhold his blessings and his people will suffer. He is grieved by this knowledge.
Moses calls on Israel to remain faithful. We need to hear that challenge too. Obedience follows godly fear. For us, the only way to godly fear is to keep our eyes on Christ. As the writer of Hebrews says, "And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2-3).
Let us make it a habit to begin each day at the mountain. Israel had Mount Sinai. We have the cross and the mountain of the Ascension, Jesus' suffering and glory is our salvation. Let us go there and fear the Lord.
These are the commandments the Lord proclaimed in a loud voice to your whole assembly there on the mountain from out of the fire, the cloud and the deep darkness; and he added nothing more. Then he wrote them on two stone tablets and gave them to me. When you heard the voice out of the darkness, while the mountain was ablaze with fire, all the leaders of your tribes and your elders came to me. And you said, "The Lord our God has shown us his glory and his majesty, and we have heard his voice from the fire. Today we have seen that a person can live even if God speaks with them. But now, why should we die? This great fire will consume us, and we will die if we hear the voice of the Lord our God any longer. For what mortal has ever heard the voice of the living God speaking out of fire, as we have, and survived? Go near and listen to all that the Lord our God says. Then tell us whatever the Lord our God tells you. We will listen and obey." (Deuteronomy 5:22-27)
Two stone tablets: one copy for the King, one for the people. A relationship had been made. These Ten Words of the Covenant are attested twice in the Old Testament—once in Exodus and once here in Deuteronomy. In Old Testament law, everything must be attested by two witnesses. This covenant has those two witnesses. Their testimony is nearly, but not quite identical. A mark of authenticity. Many of the other laws and teachings of Moses vary quite substantially in their formulation across these wilderness books, but not the Ten Words. They are a true witness, a reliable attestation of the covenantal relationship established between God and his people.
The significance of these Ten Words is further heightened by the fact that they are given in person. It is the Lord who proclaimed these Ten Words directly in fire and voice to the assembly of the people. No other laws or teachings were given this way. Only the Words of the Covenant.
After this moment at Saini, the covenant relationship ceases to be face-to-face. The covenant becomes mediated. Moses becomes the go-between—shuttling between God and the people, the people and God—bringing the words of their dialogue back and forth to one another. We read that the people requested this arrangement and we also hear a verse or so later that God approves of it. But, in the pages of these scriptures we also hear echoes of the fact that this is not quite the way it's supposed to be.
Back in the Garden, God spoke with Adam & Eve face-to-face after all. In Exodus 19:6, the Lord says of the Israelites, "you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation." At one point Moses declares in Numbers 11:29: "I wish that all the Lord's people were prophets and that the Lord would put his Spirit on them!" Priests, prophets, kingly image bearers of God—this is what the people were ideally called to be. But somehow the fear of death had crept between the people and their God, and not even this experience of standing in God's presence and hearing his voice and living could deter it. "Why should we di?" they ask. And so they ask for a mediator: someone to stand between.
The book of Hebrews tells us that Jesus has become the mediator of a new covenant—one in which we do now have direct access to God. Not only that, but the Spirit dwells within us and any fears of death have been swallowed up in the resurrection life of Easter. So there are no barriers to access on God's end. The only question, is are we willing? To stand in God's presence? To hear his voice? Today is a new day in which this question comes to you. God is always speaking—will you open your ears and heart to join the dialogue?
A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Leviticus 23:33-44 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!
To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca
Dive In
"You shall not covet your neighbor's wife. You shall not set your desire on your neighbor's house or land, his male or female servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor." (Deuteronomy 5:21).
This tenth covenant word is different from the rest. The others concern things that we do which can be witnessed. The tenth is about our thoughts, our desires. It helpful to simplify this verse to: Do not desire your neighbours' stuff. Using the word 'stuff' helps us overcome the cultural differences between Israel and ourselves Further, to say 'stuff' helps us understand that when we covet someone's spouse, we dehumanize that person.
No person should be reduced to stuff, each of us bears the image of God. We desire a person's body without regard for the person. We desire the goods and resources of other people without any regard for the people themselves. We often desire God's world and even God's heaven without any regard for God himself. This desire is selfish and endlessly hungry, constantly craving to be filled again and again.
Desire is not wrong. God made us with desire. What is addressed here is the longing that says, "I want that thing that belongs to you". And we begin to scheme within ourselves to get it; or we imagine what our life would be like with that stuff. We desire the success that our competition has. We desire the nicer car our friends have or their nicer family members.
Remember the first sin: Eve went from observation (she saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye), to desire (and also desirable for gaining wisdom) to the inevitable deed: "She took some and ate it" (Gen 3:4-7). The desire to have something which they did not have, led Eve and Adam to commit the first sin. Coveting is an extremely dangerous sin. Is it possible that coveting lies at the heart of most sin? Something to ponder.
What we need to hear again is what Martha heard from Jesus after she had complained to him that her sister was just sitting around listening, not helping her in the kitchen. Jesus' answer to her was, "Martha, Martha...you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed" (Luke 10:41-42). There is only one thing that we really need, that is, Jesus. When we focus our desire on him, life becomes quite simple, and much happier.
"Seek first God's kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things [things we 'need'] will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33). If our lives are lived with this one desire, we will no need to desire the things others have.
This desire grows by the gardening of the Spirit of God. It includes a conscious refusal to be conformed "to the pattern of this world" and a deliberate effort to be "transformed by the renewing" of our minds (Romans 12:2). Even in our culture which constantly tickles our old nature back to life, it is possible "to work out our salvation with fear and trembling" precisely because "it is God who works in us to will and to act according to his good purpose" (Phil. 2:12-13). Not only actions but also desires and thoughts are now under the Redeemer's control: "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right...pure... lovely...admirable...excellent or praiseworthy"--we learn to "think about such things" (Phil 4:8). We take pleasure in whatever is right.
The law shows us our sin. It shows how imperfect we are. This knowledge keeps us humble before God, and dependent on Jesus. It constantly reminds us of how much we need Jesus and His redemption. But the law also wets our appetite for spiritual transformation. It gets us hungering and thirsting for righteous (Mt 5:6) and craving pure spiritual milk (1 Peter 2:2). The law awakens in us a desire for doing what is right. It constantly reminds us to fight against the flesh and its evil desires that still clings to us.
Our goal is to become like Jesus. To be like Jesus is to have "true righteousness and holiness" (Eph. 4:24), a spirit of obedience to God to the service of humanity (Phil. 2:5-11), and mature knowledge of Christ (Eph. 4:4-15). It also means that we "are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit" (2 Cor. 3:18). It is a process of getting more of God in us and less of us in us. For when Jesus appears we shall be like him (1 John 3:2).
"You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor. (Deuteronomy 5:20)
This word honours and guards the integrity of all words by keeping honesty and integrity at the forefront of our dealings with one another, particularly in a court of law. We are not to falsely use the name of God: the same applies to the name of our neighbour—it ought not be falsely dragged through the mud. By extension, this word upholds truth and bars us from deceit, slander, and falsehood.
This ninth word is one of the clearest invitations for us to defend the truth. But there are perhaps two different notions of truth to distinguish here, which we tend to use interchangeably without noticing what we've done.
One form of the truth is that which I myself have witnessed: that I have seen, heard, and experienced firsthand, in person, myself. When we are called upon as a witness in a legal court, this is the form of truth we swear to tell—an accurate portrayal of reality as we have witnessed it. This form of truth is inherently subjective and not infrequently the testimony of truthful witnesses will disagree with one another—just as the four Gospels in the New Testament do—because we each witness events from our own vantage point, interpreting what we see and hear through our own assumptions, biases, and experiences. Historians see these slight variations in witness accounts as a mark of authenticity. When a narrative is too flat or when different accounts are too identical, as if a set of witnessed "practiced" together what they were going to say—judges and historians get suspicious. And rightly so. Human life and reality has a natural and necessary variation to it. We do not all perceive the world the same way. But that does not make our account of reality as we've experienced it any less truthful.
The second form of truth is a much more modern notion not known to the times of the Bible, but more often than not, this is the sort of truth we are talking about in Christian circles these days. This is a truth that is—as much as possible—flattened and codified into an objective, identically repeatable formulation. It is a systematic truth—or a systematic theology sort of truth. It is removed from the inconsistent world of subjective experience. And yet, this second form of truth depends on the first for its existence. The second form is logically deduced from the first, making it a secondary, or derivative form of truth—disembodied from the messy embodied reality of human life and perception. In this process, subjectivities are supposedly eliminated to create a smooth, coherent, linear formulation of "the truth" in a universal, abstract sense that applies everywhere to everyone in exactly the same way.
If the first form of truth—the subjective, eye-witness sort—is a living stone admitting of hundreds of variations, the second form of truth is a brick: flat, monotonous, and infinitely repeatable. However, God's people were told not to make bricks anymore. Rather, we've been made to become living stones built together into a holy temple that rises to witness as eye-witnesses to the works and wonders of the living God that we ourselves have subjectively experienced in our own day-to-day lives as the Spirit works the salvation of Jesus into us and sanctified fruit out of us for the sake of the world. When we are called to be witnesses of Jesus and his truth: this is what is meant. And when we are called not to bear false witness, this is what is meant.
So when this command is extended to demand that we defend the truth of words and the Word—the sort of truth we are called to defend is not the "objective," systematic theology sort that demands logical apologetic arguments of us (which C.S. Lewis likens to a pinning of God's wings to the cork board like a dead biology project). But rather, what we are called to defend is the truth of our eye-witness confession of faith: "look what the Lord has done for me! I cannot do otherwise than believe and love this Jesus because I know him, I talk with him, and having seen him for myself, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he lives!"
These days, the places we are most tempted to slander another are those places where things get heated: places of political rancour or culture war—whether internally against fellow Christians or externally against the world of neighbours around us. Our desire to force others into the mold of what we believe to be objectively true seems to give us the green light to use any means necessary to accomplish this end: including slander, defamation, false witness, embellishing, and plain ol' lying. The "conservatives" are guilty of this. The "progressives" are guilty of this. And, many of us who live in between and get angry with the polarizing voices that are rocking our boat are guilty of this too!
Speaking God's name without false use requires that we speak our neighbour's name without false use too. When our words no longer ring true in this personal, subjective sense, when we no longer hold a relational fidelity to speaking truthfully with and of one another, the basis for any form of trust between people erodes and relationships become difficult to tend—as we've experienced these past years. God knows this, and so his 9th word of covenant fidelity is a gift to us, that when lived, can restore trust and relationship between people in God's world.
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