What business have you reciting my statutes,
Standing there mouthing my covenants,
Since you detest my disciplines
and thrust my words behind you? . . .
You are leaving God out of account; take care! Psalm 50:16-17; 22
This reminds me of my dialogue with a liberal friend from college, even though “mouthing” and “reciting” are not fair descriptions of her heartfelt love of the covenants. The question is, whose covenant? God’s extension of grace and mercy through Jesus Christ is built on a foundation stretching back through millennia. The beloved covenants of today are (apparently) brand-new, sweeping away the old because it’s no longer needed. Or because we’ve evolved into a more caring and accepting society. Some of God’s words she treasures; others she thrusts behind her. Or rather, rationalizes or explains away.
She’s not the only one of course; it’s the spirit of the age. Even those who talk about God every day can “leave him out of account.” He’s the Facebook meme of a silhouetted figure on a ridge with hands raised in triumph, or sunbeams raying out from clouds. He’s the beauty, the wind, the sunrise, and every good feeling. He is not the muscle, the hot iron, the oil-slicked, invisible gears that make the earth move and history pop.
He’s the mountaintop we climb for inspiration, not the valley where we live our lives and make our daily decisions based on everything but what he actually says. This can be outright rebellion (I know what he says and I reject it). But more often it’s sheer frivolousness: I’m okay, God’s okay; he’s fine with me as I am with him. Even with God brooding directly over them and history dogging their every step, Israel failed to take him into account.
But he took them into account—and you and me, too. That can be good news, or very, very bad.