Do We Trap God in Our Laws

The Scribes and Pharisees in the gospel passages were not villains in their society; they were the guardians of ​the identity of their religion and society. They emerged into the​ir strictest form when they saw there was an apparent crisis of their faith and traditions.

Let’s imagine we have got a Dr’s prescription. It may have suggestions on what to do and what not to do, and which medicine to take and how. That is wonderful. This is wonderful—so wonderful, in fact, that we decide to laminate it, frame it, and place it in a golden box. We carry it around, garland it, and offer it incense. This is precisely what the Pharisees were doing.

To prevent breaking any of the Commandments, the Scribes created many fences, many subsidiary regulations, that would protect them. Though well-intended, these often overshadowed the original intention. While the goal was the life and holiness of the people, the result was merely the preservation of the holiness and honor of the Law itself. The written code of law was seen to be the Law of God that would possess ​the entire heart of God.

Jesus criticised the self-centred, hypocritical, and politically motivated interpretation of the law. It deprived many of their dignity as the children of god. In a shame-honor culture, public adherence to the minute forms of laws had become a source of social capital. They were prove​n righteous and honored in society. Such perfect following was demanded of all if they were to be worthy of God’s reward. Under the retributive ethics and theology​, these well-defined the merit of the privileged and the misery of the vulnerable. The holy ones exercised power over the sinners. They used the Law to create hierarchy rather than holiness. Jesus’ strong critique​, “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites…” was not a punishment or curse but a disaster they themselves have caused upon them​selves by the very adaptation of the law.

The privilege of having the law also offered a guaranteed possession of ‘the way, truth and life.’ So, the New Testament approach ​to finding the incapacity of the law to offer life points to Christ as the way truth and​ the life. There was a serious mistake in identifying the Law as the Logos itself. We must move from Torah-centrism to Logos-centrism. Jesus’ saying, “I have come to fulfil the law” does not mean that he was the one who did everything in its perfect way. “I know the father, I have come to do the will of the father, the father has sent me…” are to be seen as the key for understanding his mode of fulfilling the law.

Jesus repeatedly says, “You have heard it said... but I say to you.” He is not the lawgiver like Moses, he is not an interpreter like the scribes, but he is the law in whom we can see the will of God. He is the path we need to walk, he is the truth of the scriptures, moral values and our very lives, he is the life that we ultimately desire. His drawing on the law was not on ethical perspectives on honour for parents, adultery, lies, and murder, he reorients the very first commandment ‘I am the Lord your God’ as a law-bound legislator to a Father. Ways of honouring God in the temple or in the public sphere, the sabbath etc receives the content of life from the relationship to the Father. There the reward cannot be self-centred, hypocrisy cannot work, and there cannot be any power game. Because all are the children of one Father. His choice of healing on the sabbath was to break the fences the law had created.

When Jesus says your righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees, he calls us to be away from self-honouring legalism and grow into the freedom of the children of God. The law had been a guardian or a tutor (Galatians 3:24), but they had made it God. Understanding Christ as the law is the ‘Law of the Spirit of Life’ (Romans 8:2).

Anytime we believe that strict following of the law is like a ladder to go up to God there is a failure. We expect to climb the ladder to bridge the gap to the Divine through our own effort, turning salvation into a wage earned rather than a gift received. It again centres to ourselves, making God a debtor to our goodness and our faithful fulfilling of the law. The call is not just to mimic Jesus but to participate in his life. The ‘Law of Christ’ is not being a good individual, it is being in Him, it is living the beatitudes of the kingdom. We desire and make effort to do it, and grace completes what we are not able to do by our own.

The nature of Christ in us is essentially openness to life and freedom. When someone acts for the good of the other, by working for social justice, by voicing for the marginalized, offering silent forgiveness to an enemy, comforting those in shame, or practicing hospitality to the vulnerable. Its not because one sees them as commanded by God as a condition that God will give a blessing in return. They are expressing the life of Christ that naturally lives for the life of the other. If we can ask, “What does the Love of Christ require in this specific moment?” our attention changes from rigid compliance to active discernment. It is true that we seek intellectual and emotional and even spiritual comforts in definitions. While being lawful is often reduced to adhering to definitions of faith and morals, Christ liberates us into a process of discernment led by grace. Ultimately the practical living of Christ the law is done by self-emptying love. Yet we live in a tension. We are perfected in Christ, yet still struggling through our own gracelessness. So, our life is a constant returning to the union with Christ.

Blessedness of emptiness

 We live in a time of empty realities. Many of us feel like a modern-day remnant, just left out. The Babylonians once took the useful, the scholars, the priests, the craftsmen and the smiths the best who can contribute to the economic powers are chosen and the unskilled and the ordinary just live to survive, Many feel discarded by technology or shifting economies. We are told our value lies in our utility, our skills, or our bank accounts.

If we listen to Christ today, are we among who hear his voice as ‘Blessed are you!’ the very first Gospel moment begins with the greeting of the angel to Mary ‘Blessed are you,’ Jesus in his first sermon at Nazareth announced the time of God’s blessedness. Jesus looks at the very people the world ignores - the hungry, the weeping, the merciful and says, ‘Blessed are you.’  

Using passage from Isaiah 61 he opened the kingdom first to the poor. “The Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor...” (Is 61:1) “Blessed are the poor theirs is the kingdom of God.” The anointing to preach good news is “...to comfort all who mourn ... to give them a garland instead of ashes.” (Is 61:2-3) “Blessed are those who mourn, they will be comforted.” Isiah cried out calling all to the richness of God’s grace “…, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters... why spend money for that which is not bread?” (Is 55:1-2) “Blessed are those who hunger.. they shall be satisfied.” In the ancient world, inheriting the land was for the strong and the military conquerors. Prophetic promise is that the land (and the world) ultimately belongs to the non-violent, not the conquerors.  Zephaniah focuses on the remnant who were meek and useless. “But I will leave within you the meek and humble, who trust in the name of the Lord... They will eat and lie down and no one will make them afraid.” (Zephaniah 3:12-13) Psalm 37:11 is the foundation for the Beatitude “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

To ‘see God’ was the ultimate goal of the pilgrims. They would sing on the way: “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? ... The one who has clean hands and a pure heart... They will receive blessing from the Lord.” (Psalm 24:3-5) “Blessed are the pure hearted for they shall see God.” From many passages we know that the prophets were obsessed with the idea that God prefers mercy over sacrifice. “For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.” (Hosea 6:6) To be merciful is to reflect the very character of God’s steadfast love. Peace in the prophetic sense isn’t just the absence of war; it is the presence of integrity. “The righteous who walks in his integrity - blessed are his children after him!” Proverbs 20:7 (Micah 4:3 / Isaiah 2:4). Peace descends not only on them, but also upon their children. In the Roman world, the Emperor was the ‘Son of God’ because he brought peace through war conquest. By calling peacemakers ‘sons of God,’ Jesus gives them a divine title. Jesus claims that those who bring peace through reconciliation are the true children of God.

The Beatitudes are real when we desire and actualize God’s will in our lives. This blessedness isn’t a promise of future riches; it’s an invitation to realize that God’s favor is currently resting on the very people society ignores. For generations, many considered prophetic hope as a pie in the sky comfort, something that may happen in the afterlife. But in the person of Jesus, ‘it has come already.’ The healing of the broken-hearted is a current event. We no longer look past our tears toward a far distant shore; instead, we look into the face of the One who stands among us.

Jesus does not just comfort and heal those who walk in the valley of death; He identifies the Kingdom with them. Blessedness of the kingdom is with them and within them. The experience of the kingdom is also personified in Jesus. He is the living fulfillment of the promises He preached, being in our midst to offer Himself as the answer to our deepest needs, “I am the bread, I will give you rest, why are you afraid, do not weep, and finally abide with me….”

Each promise (comfort, mercy, the land) is coupled with a clear emptiness (mourning, hunger, or poverty). This is a call for the mutual building of the Kingdom, a participation in God’s work. We extend our hands to the poor, share our bread to the hungry, comfort those who mourn, stand with those hunger for justice, make efforts for peace-making, … Just as Isaiah says the comforted mourners will in turn become ‘Oaks of Righteousness’ who rebuild the ruins, the experience of the Beatitudes call a people to move from being the recipients of the promise to the agents of it.

However, in our world today, many face a new deportation, forced to move away from their homelands. Even the ‘skilled’ who survived the early wave of change now ‘hunger and thirst for justice’ as job security vanishes. We are a world of people living in a ‘nowhere land’ of digital gig work and agricultural decline. There is a powerful system that values them only for their immediate utility. Here the useless and the humble and meek never own the land. They are moved to the margins with beautiful policies of minimum wages. We are met with empty realities, and we carry it home without being satisfied.

If the agricultural sector fails and technology leaves us empty, gathering together as the people of God, our communities and simple social structures need to reflect the reality of the beatitudes where ‘righteousness and peace kiss each other’ (Psalm 85:10). Our current empty realities may then be transformed into a poverty of spirit required for the Kingdom to break through.

Therefore, let us not be disappointed of your emptiness. In our age however rich or poor we are or however holy or sinful we are, in the eyes of the Master; we can be recognised as the poor of Yahwey – the very ones upon whom the Kingdom is built. Because we all carry an empty reality. Let us not carry our 'nowhere land' in despair. Instead, let us come to Him, let us go out as Oaks of Righteousness to comfort those who are still in despair. May our integrity be our peace, and may the blessing that rested on Mary and the prophets rest upon us and our children.