Scripture Challenging Scripture ( 1. Deuteronomy 23:3-6 2. Nehemiah 13:1-3 3. Ruth 1:22)

Last week I started a series of sermons on parables.  I talked a lot about the Good Samaritan, and how it had been interpreted over the years. 

Some interpreted it as a riddle, in which every character, every object, and every action stood for something else, and our job in hearing the parable is to figure out what each thing stands for.

Some interpreted it as an example to follow.  The Samaritan did what was right by helping the poor, wounded traveler, setting the example that we are to follow.

Then I mentioned that John Dominic Crossan – a former priest and a New Testament scholar – points out that, if the story of the Good Samaritan were an example to follow, why did the good example have to be a Samaritan?  Because a Samaritan is the last person you’d expect to be a good example. 

Why not a good priest, or a good Levite, or a good Pharisee?  Those were people who were respected.  Those were people who would have made a good example.  But a good Samaritan?  That’s like saying a good Taliban, or a good gang member.  It’s the last person you’d expect.  If the story were being told to Rush Limbaugh, it would be the good democrat; and, if it were being told to Ralph Nader, it would be the good oil company executive.

You get the point.

So – more than a riddle to figure out, or an example to follow – this parable is a challenge to our entire way of thinking.  What’s good is bad, what’s bad is good.  The one we hate has become our neighbor who cares for us. It’s a story that completely takes us by surprise.

Except:  it really shouldn’t.  It shouldn’t take us by surprise, because it follows the pattern set by the challenge parables of the Old Testament.  John Dominic Crossan points out three of these challenge parables in particular, each of which is an entire book:  Ruth, Jonah, and Job.

I know I’ve talked about Ruth, Jonah and Job before; forgive me for repeating myself a little bit today.  But in the context of this series on parables, please allow me to present, again, these stories.

The books of Ruth, Jonah and Job were all written at about the same time in history.  The stories they describe take place at various times in the past, but the composition of all three takes place after the people of Israel had been in exile.  Captured by the Babylonians, they were set free by the Persians; the Persians figured that a re-established Israel would make a nice buffer between them and Egypt. If Egypt were going to attack Persia, it might be nice if Egypt had to go through those pesky Israelites first.

So the Israelites were back in Israel, and they were in a rebuilding mode.  The temple was being rebuilt, and the Torah was being rediscovered. It was a time of strong national identity, of patriotism (to use a modern term), a time to restore the nation.  And therefore, it was also a time of conservative ideology and theology, and a back-to-basics, “Israel first” mentality became the norm.

This is the attitude reflected in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah.  Nehemiah was one of the readings we heard, and perhaps you’ve been wondering about that particular scripture.  Nehemiah describes the dedication of the newly rebuilt walls surrounding Jerusalem, and how – at that dedication – the Torah was read.

And what was read from the book of Torah was the command which forbids Ammonites or Moabites from ever – ever – entering the assembly of God. 

We find this prohibition against Ammonites and Moabites in the book of Deuteronomy.

During the time of exile, the Torah, the law of Moses, had been lost and forgotten, and the people had associated with Ammonites and Moabites.  They had even intermarried with them.  Now, at the rededication of the capital city, it is discovered that the ancient law forbids such a thing.  But with new pride in Israel and desire to return to their roots, this particular law sounded good to the people of Israel, and so they kicked out from among them all those of foreign descent. 

The book of Ezra describes the same thing.  Even those Ammonites or Moabites who had married into Israel were forced to divorce themselves from their families and leave.  In this time of rebuilding, Israel was circling the wagons and securing the borders against any and all foreigners.

The book of Nahum also condemns foreigners, particularly those from Assyria.

And the book of Jeremiah does the same, singling out those from Uz and Edom.

So this is the historical background, the context in which Ruth, Jonah and Job were written.  And each of those books presents a huge challenge to the prevailing attitude of the time.

We are tempted to read the story of Ruth as an example of how we are to act.  Ruth’s loyalty and devotion are examples of how we should behave.  But there is more to it than that.

Ruth is a Moabite.  If the point of the story was simply to portray an example of behavior for us to follow, she could have been anyone.  But the author is very insistent that we recognize that she is a Moabite.  Did you notice the redundancy in the one verse from Ruth that was read for us?  In one single verse, this fact is mentioned twice.  “Naomi returned with Ruth the Moabite, her daughter-in-law, who came back with her from the country of Moab.”

And then there’s the whole story about how, after immigrating from Moab to Israel, Ruth finds an Israelite husband, and becomes the great-grandmother of – wait for it – David, the greatest king in Israel’s history.

Unh?

So in the midst of all this pro-Israel, anti-everyone else fervor, the parable of Ruth dares to ask:  What does it mean that King David is descended from a Moabite, that he himself is a Moabite-Israelite?

Or, to put it another way, the parable of Ruth asks, “What would have happened to Israel’s history if Boaz, Ruth’s husband, obeyed Ezra and Nehemiah and Deuteronomy, and all the rest who insisted that marrying foreign wives was a sin?”

In a society with such a strong anti-Moabite, anti-foreigner attitude, the story of Ruth would have been very difficult, very challenging, to hear.

Well, if Ruth challenged one assumption that was commonly held, Jonah challenged two commonly held assumptions.

For one thing, it was commonly assumed that prophets were good, and did what was right.  But poor Jonah; when God told him to go one way, Jonah went the other way. 

But that’s because where God told Jonah to go violated the law of Moses, by requiring Jonah to mingle with – you guessed it – hated foreigners. 

In this case it was the Assyrians who lived in the city of Ninevah. 

Listen to what the prophet Nahum has to say concerning Ninevah: 

“Ah! City of bloodshed, utterly deceitful!... I am against you, says the Lord of hosts.  I will throw filth at you [and that’s the nice translation] and treat you with contempt, and make you a spectacle.  Then all who see you will shrink from you and say, ‘Ninevah is devastated; who will bemoan her?’”

Those who listened to the story of Jonah, when he ran away from Ninevah, they probably thought, “Good! Those evil foreigners don’t deserve any compassion or pity.  Even scripture condemns them!”

And then, in the story, when Jonah does end up in Ninevah, the people listening to the story probably thought to themselves, “Well, he can preach, but they aren’t going to listen.  This is just a set up to their great destruction!”

But what happens?  Jonah preaches the shortest sermon in the history of sermons; just one sentence long.  “Forty days more, and Ninevah shall be overthrown!”  And then…

Ninevah repents.  Completely!  It is the most amazing turn from evil to good ever!  It is – well – it’s hyperbole, is what it is, because this is a parable, and things can be exaggerated.  And they are exaggerated to bring out the meaning.  Even Jonah’s pouting, and his being swallowed by a giant fish; it’s ridiculous, really.  But the most ridiculous thing of all is that a prophet was disobedient to God, while the people of a foreign nation listed on the “axis of evil” so completely does what is right.

And all anyone listening to this story could say was, “Unh?”

For the people who lived in Israel at the time of rebuilding, a time when trust for foreign nations was at an all-time low… this was a difficult, and very challenging, story to hear, because it uprooted all their assumptions and undermined all their prejudices.

Then we come to the parable of Job. 

Perhaps you’ve been wondering about my use of the word parable in regards to Ruth, Jonah, and Job.  Well, come on, when a story begins with the words, “Long ago, in a land far, far away…” you can be pretty sure that we’re not dealing with historical fact.  And yet, that of course does not mean that there isn’t deep, meaningful, and profound truth contained within the parable, and a mighty challenge for anyone who reads it.  In fact, John Dominic Crossan calls the book of Job “the most powerful parable in the Bible.”

In the story of Job, there are actually multiple challenges presented to anyone who hears it.  The first comes right away.  The far away land referred to is the land of Uz, and there we find the holiest, most righteous man who ever lived.

Uz was not where you’d expect to find the holiest, most righteous man who ever lived.  Jeremiah described the people of Uz as enemies of God.  They weren’t even Jews; they were Gentiles!  They fought against Israel when the Babylonians came in and destroyed Jerusalem and took the Israelites out of Israel.  Now that the Israelites were back in Israel, back rebuilding their city, here’s a story that begins by saying that the holiest, most righteous man was one of those people.

John Dominic Crossan points out that in all three of these Old Testament book-length parables, we see an escalation from a very good Moabite – in Ruth – through a city full of very, very good Assyrians – in Jonah – to the holiest and most righteous man as a very, very, very good Edomite from the land of Uz. 

Each one of those is a contradiction in terms.  Each one goes against expectations.  Each one was almost impossible to imagine! 

A good Moabite, a good Assyrian, a good Edomite from Uz.

And then, with Jesus, we have a good Samaritan.  After hearing Ruth, Jonah, and Job, it shouldn’t be all that surprising to hear another story like this, one that challenges society’s prejudice and phobia.

Now, believe it or not, having the most holy and righteous man come from Uz is only the first of several challenges in Job.  The story presents multiple challenges at multiple levels, which is why John Dominic Crossan is so impressed by it.

There are the debates between Job and his friends, which take up 37 chapters – most of the book.  In these debates, Job’s friends point out over and over that Job must have sinned in order to have such a calamity befall him.  And isn’t that what we hear today every time some disaster occurs?  Some evangelist preacher always makes the news by saying that this disaster or that terrorist attack is the result of a sinful nation.  They said it about the hurricane in New Orleans, the tornadoes in Oklahoma, and the September 11 attacks. 

Job’s friends do the same thing.  John Dominic Crossan calls them “deuteronomic fundamentalists,” because they know that the scriptures – Deuteronomy in particular – teach that those who do good are blessed, and those who win are cursed, and they insist on applying those scriptures to every situation.  We see the same thing among Jesus’s disciples, when they see a blind man and ask Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he should be born blind?” 

And Jesus basically says, “Guys, it doesn’t work that way.  Didn’t you read Job?”

Job responds to his friends by saying, “Show me my sin.  If I have sinned, let me know, and I will repent.”  But of course, Job’s friends are wrong.  Job hasn’t sinned.  He is, after all, the most holy and righteous man on earth.

But if Job’s friends are wrong, is Deuteronomy also wrong? 

That is challenge number two.

Then, at the end of Job, God and Job have a conversation.  God gives Jonah back double for all he had lost.  His fortune is restored.  But…

God never tells Jonah the truth.  We expect God to, but God never does. 

And I don’t know about you, but for me, this is the hardest challenge of all.  It challenges the very character of Israel’s God. 

I’m still not quite sure what to make of that.  I think this challenge is saying to me, “guess what:  God isn’t anything like you think God is.  You expect God to act a certain way, but God doesn’t need to conform to your expectations.” 

And I remember how, sitting on little wooden chairs in in my kindergarten Sunday School room, singing “Jesus Loves Me,” God seemed so simple; a stern but friendly old man with a white beard who was in charge of everything. 

God, I now realize, is nothing like that.  The more I grow in faith, the more mysterious God becomes.  Once upon a time I thought I knew all about God.  Now I feel as if I know nothing, that it’s all mystery.

I believe that this is a sign of a maturing faith.  But for some people, it’s just too frightening.  It’s too much of a challenge.  So they hold on to the more comforting, more familiar image of God of an immature faith.  A God who is in charge of everything.  A God who rewards those are holy and punishes those who sin.  The God of Job’s friends, the God who behaves in predictable ways.

But the God Job encounters is not predictable.  This God is not easy to figure out.  This God doesn’t always explain why.  This God leaves many questions unanswered.

To believe in this God is to believe in something that cannot be explained.  It is to dwell in mystery, not certitude.  According to Barbara Brown Taylor, the best response to this God isn’t certainty of belief, but dumbfoundedness. 

For some people, this is a great challenge.  Some end up leaving the church, because they wake up one day and realize that they no longer have God all figured out, and they think that this must be a sign of a weak faith. 

This couldn’t be further from the truth.  Realizing that God is more mysterious than you can imagine is a sign of a maturing faith.  Realizing that you have more questions about God than answers is a sign of a growing faith.  Realizing that you don’t know everything is what it means to walk humbly with God.