Our Framed Lives
Exodus 20:1-17
For a few years now, it has been hanging in the lobby of the courthouse
in Pulaski County, Kentucky. It was a
blank and a void, and it looked rather ridiculous — but this picture of nothing
was not nailed to the wall as a joke. Instead,
it was put up as a testimony to something that had been taken away.
The frame used to contain the Ten Commandments, but in 2001 a U.S.
district judge ordered that the display must be removed, a decision that was
upheld by a federal appeals court in 2003.
It was determined that courthouse postings of the Ten Commandments
violate the First Amendment of the Constitution, an amendment that forbids
Congress from making any law “respecting an establishment of religion.”
So, down came the commandments, by order of the court. But the frame has remained.
A number of Kentuckians rose up to fight this ruling, and took their
arguments all the way to the Supreme Court. Last winter, Darrell BeShears, the judge-executive of Pulaski
County, traveled to Washington with 200 others to witness the proceedings. More than anything else, BeShears wanted to
refill that frame, and return the Ten Commandments to public prominence.
As you might imagine, there’s been no lack of intensity around this
issue. “It’s about our heritage. It’s about our history,” said Christian-radio
owner David Carr to the Lexington Herald-Leader (March 3, 2005). “It’s
about the future of our children.”
But other Christians, who are just as serious and passionate about their
faith, say,”No! As Americans we’ve got to maintain separation of church and
state!”
And so the arguments go on, and no doubt will continue to go on for many
years to come. But as we ponder this
issue, it’s clear that “Pulaski’s empty frame” does raise for each of us the question:
Where do the Ten Commandments belong in our lives? We need to ask ourselves: Am I displaying them clearly in my own
words and deeds? Am I keeping them
prominently posted in my personal life?
Or (take a big gulp here) am I an empty frame?[1] These questions, I believe, are the most
important issues in this debate.
You may have strong feelings about this issue. Most Christians, whether they are for public display or opposed
to it, say the commandments are important.
That doesn’t seem to be the point of contention. Yet, if we agree on their importance, then
why can very few of us recite them? When’s
the last time you heard a sermon on them?
How many commandments can you rattle off without looking at today’s
bulletin? Can you name them all? How many have you broken this week?
There have been many attempts to modernize the language so we can
understand them and remember their meaning.
Consider the cowboy version:
1.
Just one God.
2.
Put nothin’ before God.
3.
Watch yer mouth.
4.
Git yourself to Sunday
meeting.
5.
Honor yer Ma & Pa.
6.
No killin.’
7.
No foolin’ around with
another feller’s gal.
8.
Don’t take what ain’t
yers.
9.
No telling tales or
gossipin.’
10. Don’t be hankerin’ for yer buddy’s stuff.[2]
Maybe this revised
version, or some other version you’re aware of, helps you remember them more
easily.
In a few weeks, the choir
is going to be sharing a cantata entitled, Sanctuary:
A Home in the House of the Lord.[3] Think about what a sanctuary is for a
moment. We call this space where we
worship a sanctuary. We sing a song
asking God to prepare us to be a sanctuary.
Our word sanctuary comes
from the Latin word, sanctus, which
points to holiness. A sanctuary has to
do with holiness. And holiness means:
of God, separate from, and special. Some
music draws us close to a physical space of God – a sanctuary. We remind ourselves that to be in sanctuary
is to be in the presence of God.
There’s an appropriate action in a place of sanctuary and that action is
worship. But the most important aspect
of sanctuary is that we are sanctuaries of God. And to be a sanctuary, one must continually refresh one’s self
with the things of God.
Over the next couple of
weeks, we’re going to look several times at the Ten Commandments as a way of
refreshing ourselves with the things of God.
And hopefully, as we look at the commandments, God will be “sanctuizing”
(yeah, I made that word up) us.
That’s what I believe the
Ten Commandments are designed to do.
They usher us into God’s “sanctuizing” process – they lead us one step
further down the path to holiness.
Everyone “sanctuizes”
themselves in a direction. Merle Jordan
has noted that all of us – whether we say we believe in God or not – have gods
to whom we bow down.[4] Some gods are religious. Some are internal values we seek to maintain. Some are standards we have set for
ourselves. Some are addictions and
habits. The question is not so much whether
we bow down before those gods, but to which gods we are bowing
down? And a secondary question is: is
the god you bow down to loving, graceful, and forgiving, or restricting,
confining, and excessively demanding?
The truth of the mater is that the Ten Commandments that we find in Exodus 20 if internalized and applied give the framework for living a life worth living.[5]
People who decide to live life without the benefit of the Ten Commandments are like people who try to put together complex projects without the benefit of the instruction book. [6]
What do the commandments do?
1. expose and convict us of our sin. They drive us to God.
2. provide order to society.
There’s a great deal of talk about the Ten Commandments being posted in schools, court houses, and other public buildings. I often don’t enter into sides on this debate. It’s not because of the principle of the separation of church and state. It’s much more basic than that. I won’t jump up and down to have them posted in public places for this reason: they are not public property. The Ten Commandments are not for everyone. They are for God’s people. It’s fine if you put them in public places but when you do, you’re making this statement: We are God’s people. And being God’s people, we will live as God’s people.[7]
Regarding the 3rd commandment, don’t abuse God’s name, remember how different the first worshipers of God viewed this idea compared to us. During Yom Kippur, when the priest entered the Holy of Holies and prayed for the forgiveness for the people by uttering the sacred name of God, they would tie a rope around his foot so that if God struck him dead, they could drag him out again.
[1] This opening
illustration about Pulaski, Kentucky’s court battle comes from “Pulaski’s Empty
Frame,” Homiletics, September-October
2005, pp. 36-41.
[2] Ten Commandments, Cowboy Style (as posted on the wall at Cross Trails Church in Fairlie, Texas), The Framework Trust Web Site, www.frameworktrust.org.
[3] Randy Vader, Jay Rouse, Sanctuary: A Home in the House of the Lord (PraiseGathering Publications, 2005).
[4] Merle Jordan, Taking On the Gods (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1986).
[5] Philip J. Bauman, “Pastoral Implications,” Lectionary Homiletics, February 2003-March 2003, p. 56.
[6] Philip J. Bauman, “Pastoral Implications,” Lectionary Homiletics, February 2003-March 2003, p. 56.
[7] Ronald P. Byers, professor of preaching and worship at Union Theological Seminary, advocated this position in a sermon he delivered at Highland Presbyterian Church in Winston-Salem, NC, on October 8, 2000. His rationale and reasoning make a lot of sense to me.