Written On The Heart
Commentary
This week’s lectionary scriptures invite us to seek perfection — not in the sense of being perfect, but in the biblical sense of achieving completion. The famed passage from Jeremiah assures us we will learn God’s word completely because it will be inscribed on the heart.
The author of Hebrews wants us to seek to perform God’s Word perfectly, following the example of Jesus, a high priest who suffered. Our suffering is part of our perfect performance of God’s Word.
Finally, we must actually be content with understanding God’s Word perfectly only after time, instruction, and guidance of the Holy Spirit. The disciples did not at first understand what the entry of Jesus truly signified but later, we’re assured, they understood.
Jeremiah 31:31-34
During my trip to Europe last year I sought out a particular slab of clay, covered in cuneiform, an early form of writing that can be read only by a few experts. Originally, clay tablets were inscribed with cuneiform for the purpose of keeping accurate records of who paid taxes and who didn’t. What else? But over time this method also used for recording stories and poetry. The particular tablet I wanted to see had the story of the universal flood written in Assyrian, which was part of the many stories told about the ancient King Gilgamesh.
Clay isn’t a particularly enduring medium. How come this one lasted? Because enemies set fire to cities they conquered, and the clay tablets were baked solid. In an attempt to wipe out a civilization, the conquering army insured the survival of its financial records, its scientific observations, and its stories.
The question of the most imperishable means of preserving words is addressed in the Book of Job, where Job laments that his testimony of his innocence will be lost. “O that my words were written down!” he opines. “Oh that they were inscribed in a book!” But even that is not permanent enough. “O that with an iron pen and with lead they were engraved on a rock forever!” (Job 19:23-24) And indeed, while wandering in the Louvre, I took time to read inscriptions carved into stone in the Greek and Latin languages. These were thousands of years old and although they showed some signs of wear, they had endured that long.
This got me to thinking about Jeremiah’s good news that the new covenant would be imperishable because it would be written on our hearts. Hearts aren’t exactly eternal. In the movie The Wizard of Oz, the wizard warns the Tin Man, “Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.” That sure doesn’t sound like a particularly lasting medium. But in the ancient world the heart is center of thought, not just feeling — and it is our thoughts that are permanent, inscribed on papyrus, parchment scrolls, and stone.
Of course, Jeremiah isn’t really talking about hearts as permanent placards. He’s talking about no longer needing to have prophets explain exactly what God means once we own the new covenant in our heart.
This passage about the new covenant, written on our hearts so that attaining the knowledge of God becomes effortless, is the kind of scripture that deserves to be read and needs no comment or commentary. Of course, as tempting as it is to simply read these words, adding, “Get it?”, then moving on, would never suit. We’re expected to say more.
Hebrews 5:5-10
(This week’s Charting the Course is taken directly from my illustration for the same passage.)
When I was a teenager, working summers at the aerospace plant where my father was one of the managers, I learned that boss’s sons (and I suppose daughters) came in two varieties. Those who could expect a paycheck while hanging around and doing nothing, and those whose parents would have none of that and insisted we work twice as hard to earn what everyone else got paid. My father — and therefore I as well — fit into the second category. I worked hard. I even suffered. But that strengthened me in ways that have benefited me all my life, as well as eliminating the expectation that everything in life ought to come easily.
Now in the period in which this author was writing the position of high priest was a political office, one which was obtained by currying political favor and often by offering bribes as well. People went through this rigamarole because high priest could be a very rewarding position politically, economically, and powerfully. Against this backdrop the author quotes Psalm 2:7 (“You are my Son; today I have begotten you….”) and 110:4 (“You are a priest forever, according to the order of Melchizedek….”) to show that while Jesus inherits this position by virtue of being the Son of God, certainly with the potential for the greatest act of nepotism ever, nevertheless Jesus “…learned obedience through what he suffered…”(10:8) which benefited eternally not only himself, but all of us.
John 12:20-33
Sometimes God’s covenant may be written on our hearts, but it still takes us time to really understand what God has told us, and is telling us. In John’s account of the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, Jesus is acclaimed as a conqueror, like the Maccabees who drove the foreign occupiers from Jerusalem and the temple two hundred years earlier. They had been acclaimed with palm branches as they entered on magnificent steeds. The people cried out with words from Psalm 118, one of the Hillel psalms sung after the Passover celebration, in remembrance of when the slaves were freed and left for the promised land.
Instead Jesus entered on a young donkey, not a war horse, calling to mind the words of Zechariah. Jesus was turning the image of the conqueror upside down, preparing to free us not because an angel of death struck down the first born of the oppressors, nor by military might when the Maccabees retook the temple which had been desecrated by the abomination of desolation.
The prophecy of Zechariah showed in graphic images that God would liberate the people in an unimagined way. Their king would arrive “triumphant and victorious…, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9).
The key words I want to emphasize are, “His disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.” (John 12:16)
Jeremiah may have promised that the new covenant would be written on our hearts, but sometimes it takes time, life, and open hearts to learn these things for ourselves. If I can refer to The Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy is told she can use the ruby slippers to get herself home the Scarecrow says he should have been able to figure that out, and the Tin Man thinks he should have felt it in his heart. But Glinda the Good Witch says that Dorothy had to learn it for herself.
You know, it’s kind of like Nicodemus. He came to Jesus in the night to learn about the gospel, but he had trouble understanding what it meant to be born from above, or born again. Yet over time he got it. He stood up for Jesus in the Sanhedrin, even though it opened him up to ridicule (John 7:50-52), and after his death on the cross, when all seemed lost, it was Nicodemus was a faithful disciple, bringing the spices for his burial. (John 19:39-40)
Sometimes, despite all we’ve been taught by word and example, we still have to learn the truth of the gospel for ourselves, which should bring us down a peg. There’s no reason to think we know everything yet.
The author of Hebrews wants us to seek to perform God’s Word perfectly, following the example of Jesus, a high priest who suffered. Our suffering is part of our perfect performance of God’s Word.
Finally, we must actually be content with understanding God’s Word perfectly only after time, instruction, and guidance of the Holy Spirit. The disciples did not at first understand what the entry of Jesus truly signified but later, we’re assured, they understood.
Jeremiah 31:31-34
During my trip to Europe last year I sought out a particular slab of clay, covered in cuneiform, an early form of writing that can be read only by a few experts. Originally, clay tablets were inscribed with cuneiform for the purpose of keeping accurate records of who paid taxes and who didn’t. What else? But over time this method also used for recording stories and poetry. The particular tablet I wanted to see had the story of the universal flood written in Assyrian, which was part of the many stories told about the ancient King Gilgamesh.
Clay isn’t a particularly enduring medium. How come this one lasted? Because enemies set fire to cities they conquered, and the clay tablets were baked solid. In an attempt to wipe out a civilization, the conquering army insured the survival of its financial records, its scientific observations, and its stories.
The question of the most imperishable means of preserving words is addressed in the Book of Job, where Job laments that his testimony of his innocence will be lost. “O that my words were written down!” he opines. “Oh that they were inscribed in a book!” But even that is not permanent enough. “O that with an iron pen and with lead they were engraved on a rock forever!” (Job 19:23-24) And indeed, while wandering in the Louvre, I took time to read inscriptions carved into stone in the Greek and Latin languages. These were thousands of years old and although they showed some signs of wear, they had endured that long.
This got me to thinking about Jeremiah’s good news that the new covenant would be imperishable because it would be written on our hearts. Hearts aren’t exactly eternal. In the movie The Wizard of Oz, the wizard warns the Tin Man, “Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.” That sure doesn’t sound like a particularly lasting medium. But in the ancient world the heart is center of thought, not just feeling — and it is our thoughts that are permanent, inscribed on papyrus, parchment scrolls, and stone.
Of course, Jeremiah isn’t really talking about hearts as permanent placards. He’s talking about no longer needing to have prophets explain exactly what God means once we own the new covenant in our heart.
This passage about the new covenant, written on our hearts so that attaining the knowledge of God becomes effortless, is the kind of scripture that deserves to be read and needs no comment or commentary. Of course, as tempting as it is to simply read these words, adding, “Get it?”, then moving on, would never suit. We’re expected to say more.
Hebrews 5:5-10
(This week’s Charting the Course is taken directly from my illustration for the same passage.)
When I was a teenager, working summers at the aerospace plant where my father was one of the managers, I learned that boss’s sons (and I suppose daughters) came in two varieties. Those who could expect a paycheck while hanging around and doing nothing, and those whose parents would have none of that and insisted we work twice as hard to earn what everyone else got paid. My father — and therefore I as well — fit into the second category. I worked hard. I even suffered. But that strengthened me in ways that have benefited me all my life, as well as eliminating the expectation that everything in life ought to come easily.
Now in the period in which this author was writing the position of high priest was a political office, one which was obtained by currying political favor and often by offering bribes as well. People went through this rigamarole because high priest could be a very rewarding position politically, economically, and powerfully. Against this backdrop the author quotes Psalm 2:7 (“You are my Son; today I have begotten you….”) and 110:4 (“You are a priest forever, according to the order of Melchizedek….”) to show that while Jesus inherits this position by virtue of being the Son of God, certainly with the potential for the greatest act of nepotism ever, nevertheless Jesus “…learned obedience through what he suffered…”(10:8) which benefited eternally not only himself, but all of us.
John 12:20-33
Sometimes God’s covenant may be written on our hearts, but it still takes us time to really understand what God has told us, and is telling us. In John’s account of the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, Jesus is acclaimed as a conqueror, like the Maccabees who drove the foreign occupiers from Jerusalem and the temple two hundred years earlier. They had been acclaimed with palm branches as they entered on magnificent steeds. The people cried out with words from Psalm 118, one of the Hillel psalms sung after the Passover celebration, in remembrance of when the slaves were freed and left for the promised land.
Instead Jesus entered on a young donkey, not a war horse, calling to mind the words of Zechariah. Jesus was turning the image of the conqueror upside down, preparing to free us not because an angel of death struck down the first born of the oppressors, nor by military might when the Maccabees retook the temple which had been desecrated by the abomination of desolation.
The prophecy of Zechariah showed in graphic images that God would liberate the people in an unimagined way. Their king would arrive “triumphant and victorious…, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9).
The key words I want to emphasize are, “His disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.” (John 12:16)
Jeremiah may have promised that the new covenant would be written on our hearts, but sometimes it takes time, life, and open hearts to learn these things for ourselves. If I can refer to The Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy is told she can use the ruby slippers to get herself home the Scarecrow says he should have been able to figure that out, and the Tin Man thinks he should have felt it in his heart. But Glinda the Good Witch says that Dorothy had to learn it for herself.
You know, it’s kind of like Nicodemus. He came to Jesus in the night to learn about the gospel, but he had trouble understanding what it meant to be born from above, or born again. Yet over time he got it. He stood up for Jesus in the Sanhedrin, even though it opened him up to ridicule (John 7:50-52), and after his death on the cross, when all seemed lost, it was Nicodemus was a faithful disciple, bringing the spices for his burial. (John 19:39-40)
Sometimes, despite all we’ve been taught by word and example, we still have to learn the truth of the gospel for ourselves, which should bring us down a peg. There’s no reason to think we know everything yet.
