What God Commands . . .
Thursday, June 4, 2015 at 03:05PM 
I’m through with Biblical commands—they’re not the boss of me. But then, when’s the last time a library of books ever commanded anyone to do anything? In my spiritual life I’ve grown weary of the phrase, “The Bible says . . .” followed by some authoritative pronouncement of whatever hot topic is trending that day. We’ve all experienced this: that moment when people quote the Bible as if the sacred word of God is somehow separate from that God.
Are you getting nervous? Do you think this post will somehow destroy the authority of God’s word, the Bible? Rest easy: if I do my job well you will come to love the Bible even more, because it is a gift from our loving Father. The Bible reveals God’s heart and mind; the Bible is Holy Spirit email; the Bible testifies of Jesus, who is God the Son. My worship—and obedience—is directed toward God, the Son-Spirit-Father. And this last word is the key: to receive God as Father is to enter into a new relationship with the gift of his word.
In the far-away world of the 1970’s someone put a Bible in my hand and explained: “You wouldn’t try to drive a new car without reading the owner’s manual, would you? Well, the Bible is your owner’s manual.” Other folks from the age of Evangelicalism explained that the Bible was “God’s rulebook,” or “Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth” (or, B.I.B.L.E.—get it?). When we receive the Bible as a rulebook or an owner’s manual we are separating ourselves from the Father in Heaven, and us from our humanity. The result is a ministry of the “word” that brings death instead of life.
The Bible commands me to “be angry, and sin not”—which is like commanding me fly. The Bible commands me to “love your neighbor”—but how does love flow from a command? The Bible commands me to “be perfect as God is perfect"—and, well, what do you do with that? (If you feel the urge to explain any of these commands to me, it may be a symptom of a Biblical neurosis.)
Who can save me from a Bible-boss that issues one command after another? Only a father.
Once we discover that God is a loving Father his book takes on a new tone. When we see the Father as a perfect parent, we are able to trust his judgment and direction. Instead of thinking, “the Bible commands me,” we can hear, “the father assures me.” The difference is life giving: the commands of scripture move from a burden laid upon us to an encouraging word from the Father. Of course, there’s no getting around it: the Bible contains commands. Ten of them are rather famous. What makes all the difference is the source of each command. What a government commands, it enforces. The rulers of this age care nothing for me, only my compliance. What God commands is something else altogether: his commands open my mind and heart to what is possible in my life.
With every command comes a promise: that we can do what is commanded. John Milton, the majestic 17th–century saint, asked, “Doth God exact day-labor, light deny’d?” by which he meant would God command of us something impossible to give? What kind of God would command me to love without showing me how to become the kind of person capable of love?
Life with God is a living room, not a courtroom. Have a seat and watch: mothers and fathers alike encourage their babies, “Come on! You can do it—take a step!” After celebrating a single shaky step, parents urge their child, “That’s it! Walk to Mommy!” Can you imagine the absurdity a loving parent who would command a baby to walk? “Junior! You are 13 months old, the manual says you should be walking by now! I command you to walk!” No: walking starts with a promise from Mom: “You can do it!”
Every command from God is a promise. The book that used to fill me with guilt and anxiety has become a treasure of possibilities. What he commands he empowers. I need only trust the one who speaks the word.
Why not receive Students of Jesus in your inbox? Subscribe to our email newsletter and never miss a post.
Reader Comments (2)
I had to digest this one overnight and re-read it this morning...
As I washed the dishes last night a memory came to mind; dad (or sometimes mom) commanding me to wash the dishes. Often we were paired up in wash/dry stations because with eight kids your human resource line up is deeper! Even so, I don't recall whether I resented more being commanded or doing the dishes, but I do recall resentment.
These days I enjoy doing the dishes, shamelessly donning my apron to wash the dishes and sanitize every surface before lights out. Mostly, I enjoy cooking breakfast in a clean kitchen and eating breakfast at a clean and sanitized table. And although I did wash the dishes last night after Zumba, I scarfed down my dinner and failed to clean the table. This morning I had to eat at a disgusting kitchen table (crumbs, couple of small soup spill spots) which further reminded me of how ESSENTIAL it is that I wipe down the surfaces every night.
You see Ray, the reward for obeying what were once commands but are now a distinct preference, is peace. I have also learned to lean into God's commands, not because they are commands, but because I know that understand them or not, they are what are best for me....just like dad, and sometimes mom, knew.
Thank you.
This is a wonderful reflection, Ed. It has depth and nuance--and I benefitted from reading it.
The germ for this post (somewhat crudely executed) was the idea that we tend see the Bible as an imposed set of "commands" that really have no personal stake in our well-being, that "rules" are all about the rules and not about the person. As I look at most believers I see them unconvinced that God the Father really has their best interests at heart. There is a subtle idea that Jesus came to save us from an angry (rule-making) God. It ends up like this "Father God Bad/ Son Jesus Good").
So the "commands" of scripture become the bearers of impossible requirements from a fastidious, mean Father-god. Grace and forgiveness come from an Old Brother who moves to protect us from the abusive parent. I like the way you put it (in the positive: "I have also learned to lean into God's commands, not because they are commands, but because I know that understand them or not, they are what are best for me....just like dad, and sometimes mom, knew.")
Your personal experience shows beautifully that the very commands that bring resentment can become the source of peace, safety, and order (not to mention cleanliness!). My posts does not succeed on a number of levels--it feels (a day later) as if I'm trying to sell people on "feeling good" about God's commands, when my actual goal was to portray God's commands as entirely do-able. (Your Dad and Mom knew you were capable of doing the dishes; we tend to think God is asking of us the impossible).
Grace to you, Ed, and peace!