Friday, May 2
John 3.22-36: The position of this section of John mat have been determined by the earlier reference to Baptism in 3:5. The evangelist now returns to John the Baptist for the last time.
The reference to Jesus baptizing does not mean that He did so with His own hands. From 4:2 we will learn that Jesus’ apostles normally performed this rite. It is not easy to determine the exact nature of this baptism, and it is difficult to affirm that it was the Christian sacrament of Baptism of which John the Baptist had spoken earlier (1:33), because the Holy Spirit will not be conferred on the Church until much later in this Gospel. However, there is no need to be apodictic on the nature of the baptism here in John 3; we may leave the question as unclear as the evangelist leaves it.
The place named in verse 23 is not identified with certainty, though we presume John’s earliest readers recognized it. The name means “springs,” which suggests that it was not a site on the banks of the Jordan. Some archeologists identify it with a site in Samaria. If true, of course, it indicates that John the Baptist had some following among the Samaritans.
In verse 24 the evangelist presumes his readers’ familiarity with the story of the death of John the Baptist (cf. Mark 6:17-29).
Verse 25 indicates the context of the words of John the Baptist. It is clear that controversies about Jewish cleansing rituals were not uncommon (cf. Mark 7:1-5).
The disciples of John the Baptist were understandably disturbed that the prestige of their leader was being eclipsed by the growing notoriety of Jesus. In answering them, John the Baptist again affirmed his own preparatory and subordinate role with respect to Jesus. He knew the ministry and task given him from heaven and dared not attempt to transcend the limits of his vocation (verse 27). Jesus, as the Messiah (verse 28), was the bride’s groom, whereas John was only His best man (verse 29).
We have here the first instance of what is a veritable mystique of the voice of Christ in the Gospel according to John. Here are some representative Johannine texts to demonstrate the richness of ideas associated with Jesus’ voice (cf 3,29; 5,24; 10.2; 11.43; 18.37; 20.15).
In verse 30 we have the final words spoken by John the Baptist in the Fourth Gospel. They not only formed a synopsis of the vocation of John, but they also served the early Christians as an apologetic testimony in their relationship to the disciples of John the Baptist.
In the Lord’s recent discourse with Nicodemus, the conversation gradually became a theological meditation. Nicodemus faded from the scene, and the reader was no longer entirely sure who was speaking. We witness now the same literary phenomenon in this conversation between John the Baptist and his disciples. By the time we reach verse 31, it no longer appears to be a discussion, and it is difficult to say, any longer, that it is John the Baptist who is speaking. Both he and his disciples fade from the scene.
Indeed, in verses 31-36 there is a repetition of certain ideas in the section associated with the discussion with Nicodemus. We may list and examine these:
First, there is the image of “coming from above,” along with a contrast between earthly and heavenly things. Thus, Jesus said earlier, “If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how will you believe if I tell you heavenly things? No one has ascended to heaven but He who came down from heaven—the Son of Man” (3:12-13). In this later meditation we read, “He who comes from above is over all; he who is of the earth is of the earth, and of the earth he speaks. He who comes from heaven is over all” (verse 31). In both places we have the contrast between heavenly things and earthly things, and Jesus is identified as coming “from above” or “from heaven.”
Second, there is the mention of unbelief with regard to the testimony of Jesus. In the earlier meditation, we read, “Amen, amen, I say to you, We speak what We know and testify what We have seen, and you do not receive Our witness” (3:11). This idea appears again in the present text: “And what He has seen and heard, that He testifies; and no one receives His testimony” (verse 32). In both places there is the crisis of unbelief.
Third, both sections of John 3 speak of the Holy Spirit. In the discourse we Nicodemus, we read, “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. . . . The Spirit breathes where He wills, and you hear His voice, but cannot tell where He comes from and where He goes. Thus is everyone who is born of the Spirit”(3:5,6,8). In the present section, we read: “For He whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for God does not give the Spirit by measure” (verse 12).
John the Baptist had earlier spoken of the Holy Spirit as pertinent to the coming of the Christ: “And John bore witness, saying, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and He remained upon Him. I did not know Him, but He who sent me to baptize in water said to me, “Upon whom you see the Spirit descending, and remaining on Him, this is He who baptizes in the Holy Spirit”’” (1:32-33).
Fourth, both parts of John 3 speak of God’s love. In the earlier section we read, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son” (3:16). In the present section we read, “The Father loves the Son, and has given all things into His hand” (verse 35).
Fifth, in both parts of John 3, Jesus is identified as God’s Son. Thus, in the earlier section we read, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him. He who believes in Him has not been judged but he who does not believe has already been judged, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God” (3:16-18). In the present section we read, “The Father loves the Son, and has given all things into His hand. He who believes in the Son has everlasting life; and he who does not believe the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him” (verses 35-36).
Jesus’ title, “Son of God,” had already appeared, of course, much earlier in John: “we beheld His glory, the glory as of the Only Begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth” (1:14). Also, Nobody has, at any time, seen God. The Only Begotten, God, He Who Is, in the bosom of the Father, He explained” (1:18). Also, “And I have seen and testified that this is the Son of God” (1:34). Likewise, “Rabbi, You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” (1:49)
Sixth, in both sections of John 3 there is the theme of eternal or everlasting life. Thus, we read earlier, “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, thus must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should have eternal life. For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life” (3:14-16). In the present section we read, “He who believes in the Son has everlasting life” (verse 36).
Seventh, in both sections of John 3 we find the theme of judgment. Thus, we read in the earlier part, “he who does not believe has already been judged, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (3:18-19). And in the present section we read, “he who does not believe the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him” (3:36).
Finally, both sections of John 3 are invitations to belief in Christ. The first part says, “whoever believes in Him should have eternal life” (3:15). And the second section says, “He who believes in the Son has everlasting life” (verse 36).
Saturday, May 3
Exodus 14: In the previous chapter (13:17) we already learned that God had a plan. Now it will be enacted. Pharaoh is being “set up.” As though the destruction of the firstborn sons had not been enough, Pharaoh is coming back for more punishment. On the other hand, God intends this encounter, as He knows what Pharaoh is thinking. If Pharaoh is rash enough to do battle with the Lord, he will simply have to take his chances. Meanwhile, God’s plan remains a secret, even to Moses.
Pharaoh does not know that his own plan has already been subsumed into God’s larger plan (verses 5-9). Thus, his very strategy against Israel becomes a component of his own destruction. Compare the way the New Testament pictures the plan of Satan being subsumed into Christian redemption (cf. John 13:2; 1 Corinthians 2:8).
The command to “stand” (verse 13) is more than a matter of posture. It is a summons to steadfast faith (cf. Psalm 5:3 — “In the morning I will stand before You, and I will see”). The Lord portrays Himself as a warrior for Israel (verse 14), something to which the Egyptians themselves will testify in 14:25. The image of God as a “fighter” for Israel will appear again in Deuteronomy 1:30; 3:22; 20:4, and it will be taken up again in the narratives of the conquest (cf. Joshua 1014,22; 23:3). The people must, therefore, “be silent.” When God is in the act of saving, it is best that man refrain from making comments about it, which will inevitably be distracting or even worse.
Although by now Moses is aware that God has a plan, he does not yet know what that plan is. God does not explain Himself; He simply gives an order that must be obeyed in faith (verses 15-18). Indeed, God rather often does this (cf. John 2:8; 6:10; 9:7; 11:39). Few things are more arrogant in a religious person than refusal to obey orders that one does not understand; we are dealing with God, after all, whom we shall never “understand.”
God has told Moses what to do; now God provides His own part in the plan. The text is clear that the mysterious quality of the cloud comes from an angelic presence (cf. Exodus 23:20; 32:34; Numbers 20:16). The traditional liturgical texts of the Church identify the angel here as Michael, who battles for God’s people (cf. Daniel 10:13,21; 12:1; Revelation 12:7). The cloud follows the people right into the sea, shrouding them in darkness (cf. Joshua 24:6-7). St. Paul explains for Christians the meaning of this double experience of the cloud and the sea (cf. 1 Corinthians 10:1-2).
As in creation God had separated water from water (Genesis 1:6), He does so here (verses 21-22) in a symbol of the new creation. The imagery of the opening verses of Genesis all return now: light/darkness, water/dry land, and especially Spirit-wind. On the relationship of creation to the Exodus (cf. Wisdom 19:4-8). The images of Spirit, light, and water were part of the Church’s baptismal catechesis from the very beginning (cf. Hebrews 6:4-6).
Since the destruction of the Egyptian forces is the major type of the destruction of demonic powers in the waters of baptism, it is not surprising that the biblical poets loved to rhapsodize over the scene of the Egyptian forces lying dead on the shore (cf., for example, Habakkuk 3:8-15; Wisdom 10:18-20, and many places in the Book of Psalms). This was a sight that Israel was commanded never to forget (cf. Deuteronomy 11:1-4). This scene by the seaside, combined with Exodus 15, will return in the vision of St. John (cf. Revelation 15:1-3).
Sunday, May 4
John 6.15-21: The scene of Jesus walking on the water, in the three places where it is found (Mark 6, Matthew 14, John 6), invariably follows at once after the multiplication of the loaves.
In the form presented by Mark and John, the climax of the account is Jesus’ self-identification: “It is I”— literally, “I am.” It is the voice from the Burning Bush. The walking on the water, then, is at one with the multiplication of the loaves; they are both manifestations of God in Christ.
With respect to the Lord’s feeding of the multitude in the desert, the voice of prophecy had declared, “He will feed His flock like a shepherd” (Isaiah 40:11). And with respect to the walking on the water, the prophetic voice declares,
Thy way is in the sea,
and thy paths in the great waters,
and thy footprints shall not be known
(Psalms 77:20).
Jesus does not simply declare his divinity by way of testimony to something objective; he does not announce it. Rather, he manifests his identity. It is a revelation to be immediately understood in the event itself.
Revelation 15.1-8: The ocean of blood, with which the previous chapter ended, has now become a kind of Red Sea (verses 1-3), which also inserts the theme of the Exodus. This theme itself is appropriate to the outpouring of the plagues. Other components of the Exodus theme likewise appear in this chapter: the Song of Moses, the cloud of the divine presence, the tent of testimony, and so forth.
The “sea of glass”?(verse 2) we have already considered in Chapter 4. Beside this sea stand God’s people who have passed over it in the definitive Exodus. They are musicians—harpists to be exact—identical with the one hundred and forty-four thousand whom we saw with the Lamb in the previous chapter; there was harp music in that scene too.
These elect have “overcome,” the very thing to which John had called the seven churches in Chapters 2-3. They are now beyond the power of the beast to harm them.
John sees in heaven the tabernacle of testimony from the Book of Exodus, the traveling tent of the divine presence that Moses and the Israelites carried through the desert. This tent, however, is “heavenly,” which means that it is the original model, the very pattern that Moses copied (Exodus 25:9,40; ?Acts 7:44; Hebrews 8:5).
Since the tent is a place of worship, we are not surprised that John sees seven angels coming out of it, clothed in priestly vestments (verse 6; cf. Exodus 28:4; 39:29), very much as Jesus was clothed in the inaugural vision (Revelation 1:12-13). ?
Monday, May 5
Exodus 16: The bitter water is sweetened and made potable by the tree placed in it, this tree often being interpreted in Christian history as symbolic of the Lord’s cross, that salvific tree that sweetens many of our bitter experiences in the desert of our Christian journey.
When the Almighty provided food in the wilderness, He out associated that gift with certain conditions and restrictions respecting its use. For instance, those who enjoyed the bread were prohibited from hoarding it.
The present text describes what happened when the Israelites violated that injunction.
The rules attendant on the eating of the bread in the wilderness should be likened to the Lord’s command directed to Adam and Eve in the garden: ‘Eat whatever you like,’ the Almighty instructed our first parents, ‘but leave that particular tree alone. Thus far you may eat, but no further.’
The manna is spoken of much more than the quail. There are two reasons for this. (1) On only two occasions does the Bible speak of the quail, whereas the manna will remain the people’s staple food for the next forty years. (2) The manna received far more theological attention during the course of Israel’s long history. Speculations about the nature of the manna continued in Israel well into Talmudic times.
Similarly, in the memory of the early Church it is obvious that, with respect to the miraculous feeding with the loaves and fishes, the loaves were the element chiefly remembered, inasmuch as the bread understood, like the manna, as a prefiguration of the Holy Eucharist.
This is “daily” bread, in the sense that God’s people must trust Him each day to provide it. They are to leave tomorrow to His care. The bread, then, becomes the daily occasion of faith in God’s providing. It is the bread for which Jesus commanded us to ask God, “give us, this day” (Matthew 6:11; Didache 8.2), or “day by day” (Luke 11:3). As long as our pilgrimage lasts, until the other side of the Jordan (cf. Joshua 5:12), this bread will be supplied to God’s people, so that they must not fear nor fret for the morrow (cf. Matthew 6:25-34).
Tuesday, May 6
Exodus 17: Like the other events associated with the Exodus, the stream of water miraculously struck from the rock was adopted by the early Christians for its spiritual significance. Drawing on this inspiration, 1 Corinthians 10:4 said that the people “drank of that spiritual rock that followed them, and that rock was Christ.”
Two observations should be made with respect to this latter text.
First, in calling the rock “spiritual,” St. Paul did not intend to deny that it was a physical rock. He had in mind, rather, to say that the physical rock was possessed of a spiritual significance, both as the medium of God’s special intervention, and as a symbol of Jesus the Lord, who provides us with the water of eternal life (cf. also John 4:10-14; 7:37-39). Thus, St. Paul said, “that rock was Christ.”
Second, the somewhat surprising detail that the rock in the desert “followed them” is derived from rabbinical reflection on the rock. After all, is this not the same rock as in Numbers 20, from which water miraculously flowed at Kadesh?
Rabbinical texts speak of this as a kind of rocky fountain from which water poured as through a sieve, and they describe it as traveling up and down the mountain ranges while the people wandered in the desert. This rabbinical speculation about the moving rock is witnessed in the Targum Onkelos, an ancient Aramaic paraphrase of the text, probably inspired by Isaiah 48:21. The rabbinical scholar Paul was completely at home in these traditions.
For Christian interpreters the picture of Moses praying on the mountain with outstretched arms (verses 8-13) became a type of Jesus praying for mankind with outstretched arms on Mount Calvary. Moreover, the 3rd century commentator, Origen, wrote that this passage in Exodus “is fulfilled whenever we pray in the power of the Cross of Christ.”
Psalms 115 (Greek & Latin 113b): One way of approaching this psalm is through the consideration of space. It speaks of heaven, earth, and the nether world, and all these references are related to the question, posed in an early verse, about where God is to be located: “So where is their God?”
This question, posed by the unbelievers as a mockery (“Why should the Gentiles say”), is answered by the psalmist: “But our God is in heaven.” affirmation here is not merely spatial, so to speak, for he goes on immediately to draw an inference that becomes a theme of the psalm: God “does whatever He pleases.” The verb, to “do” or “make” (‘asah in Hebrew) appears now for the first time and may be seen as a key to the psalm’s meaning. This psalm is about a God who does things.
Nothing more is said about space until a dozen verses later, when the psalmist speaks of “the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” The word “made” here is ‘oseh, the active participle of the same verb as before; it could be translated even as a substantive—God is a doer. The Lord does things.
Here, then, is heaven once more, not simply a spatial reference but a symbol of God’s omnipotence. Just as, earlier, “heaven” had to do with God’s activity (“He does whatever He pleases”), so now the reference to God’s activity leads back immediately to the thought of heaven: “The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord’s.”
In contrast to heaven there is the earth: “But the earth He has given to the children of men.” God is in heaven; He is omnipotent. Men dwell on earth; they are not omnipotent. Indeed, they will die and “go down into silence,” and this brings us to the psalm’s final reference to space—the nether world, where the “dead do not praise the Lord.” The “sons of men” are, in themselves, but creatures of a day. They are unlike God, for there are very strict limits to what they can do. And that was exactly the note on which our psalm began: “Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to Your name give glory.”
Wednesday, May 7
Exodus 18: The story of Jethro (verses 1-12) and the institution of the judges (verses 13-27) represent a chronological departure, it appears, from the historical sequence. There are two indications of this departure: First, Israel is still encamped at Rephidim (17:1 and 19:1), whereas the events in chapter 18 take place at Mount Sinai (verse 5). Second, there is the testimony of Deuteronomy 1 that the institution of the judges took place after the Sinai Covenant.
There is no theological or exegetical difficulty, of course, in discovering here a departure of the story from the historical sequence. After all, there is no a priori necessity requiring the biblical narrative to follow the historical sequence. However, if we look more closely at the accounts in chapter 18, there seem to be two reasons that prompted the biblical author to put the stories in chapter 18 before describing the Sinai Covenant.
First, this arrangement is less disruptive to the narrative. Placing these events in chapter 18 before the Sinai narrative permits the biblical author, when he comes to treat of the Covenant, to concentrate attention on the particulars of the Law, without the relative distraction of these other matters. The author reasonably preferred to tell this story earlier than it happened.
Second, a story about the sacrifice of the pagan Jethro at Mount Sinai would be most unseemly if it were told after the institution of the priesthood and sacrifice in the prescriptions of the Covenant (Leviticus 8-10).
What, then, do we find in chapter 18?
To this point all of the great burden of leadership has fallen on Moses, though we did begin to see the gradual emergence of some other leadership, especially that of Joshua, in the previous chapter. In the present chapter, however, Moses accepts the counsel of Jethro and lays a broader foundation for the leadership of the people. It is particularly striking that this counsel comes from “outside” the chosen people. Indeed, it is the advice of a pagan priest! The willingness of Moses to accept the prudent counsel of an “efficiency expert” from outside the community, even in regard to his prophetic and pastoral ministry, seems to be a useful precedent for God’s people to bear in mind. This response of Moses to the suggestion of Jethro is thus of a piece with Israel’s earlier “despoiling” of the Egyptians.
Thursday, May 8
Exodus 19: The Book of Exodus, having treated of Israel’s deliverance, now speaks of Israel’s election and the Covenant. Over the next six chapters two sections will emerge as especially prominent—the Decalogue (20:1-17) and the Book of the Covenant (20:22—23:19), the latter containing a detailed, practical application of the rules of the Covenant.
The things narrated in these chapters are not naked events, but events that received theological and liturgical elaboration reflected in the narrative. It is arguable that Israel devoted more attention to these events than to any other in its history.
The people have now arrived at Mount Sinai, where the rest of the Book of Exodus, and all of the Book of Leviticus, will take place. Indeed, the Israelites will not move from Sinai until Numbers 10:33.
The stories begin with Moses’ scaling of Mount Sinai (verse 3), still known among the local Arabs as Jebel Musa. This peak, 7467 feet high, can be climbed in under two hours. When Moses ascends to speak with God, the people wait below at the base of the mountain, the plain of er-Raha (verses 2,17).
God’s election of Israel (verses 5-6) is an invitation to become His chosen people, an invitation that marks Israel’s history until the end of the world, because God will never reject the descendants of those with whom He made Covenant at Mount Sinai; the Apostle Paul insisted on this point: “I say then, has God cast away His people? Certainly not! For I also am an Israelite, of the seed of Abraham, of the tribe of Benjamin. God has not cast away His people whom He foreknew” (Romans 11:1-2).
What God proposes, however, is only an invitation, requiring Israel’s ratification of His choice and the resolve to abide by its conditions and strictures (verses 7-8). Moses mediates this Covenant (verses 9,25).
The people of God are to be a “royal priesthood, a holy nation” (verse 6). Both the kingship and the priesthood of the Old Testament are prophetic preparations fulfilled in Jesus. Like Melchizedek of old, Jesus Christ is both king and priest (cf. Hebrews 7:1-3). Moreover, because of their awareness of sharing in the royal and priestly dignity and ministries of the risen Jesus, the early Christians were prompt to see this Exodus promise as fulfilled in the Church.
On this point the Apostle Peter wrote to the churches in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,
But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy (1 Peter 2:9-10)
This theme appears repeatedly in the visions of Saint John:
To Him who loved us and washed[a] us from our sins in His own blood, and has made us kings and priests to His God and Father, to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen (Revelation 1:6).
For You were slain,
And have redeemed us to God by Your blood
Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation,
And have made us kings and priests to our God;
And we shall reign on the earth (5:10).
Blessed and holy is he who has part in the first resurrection. Over such the second death has no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with Him a thousand years (20:6).
The subsequent terrifying scene on Mount Sinai (verses 9-25 and 20:18-20) is contrasted with the invitation to Christians’ “draw near” to God (Hebrews 12:18-24). The theme of a bold “drawing near” or “approaching” to the divine presence is an important one in the Epistle to the Hebrews, serving as part of its sustained contrast of Christ with Moses (cf. Hebrews 4:16; 7:19; 10:1,22).
Friday, May 9
Exodus 20:Unlike the other commandments, this first commandment commences with God’s self-identification; only then does there follow the immediate prohibition against idolatry. Three things must be said about the auto-identification of God in this commandment.
First, it places the Ten Commandments firmly in the context of God’s revelation. This fact needs to be asserted explicitly, because of a widespread idea that the Decalogue is simply an expression of Natural Law. It isn’t. While it is true that there are a number of material equivalents between certain components of the Decalogue and certain dictates of Natural Law (those governing murder and theft, for instance), there is a formal difference between them. In the case of the Decalogue, each of the commandments is rooted in God’s self-revelation within specific biblical history—Mount Sinai. The Ten Commandments are essentially revelatory. They are all extensions of “I am the Lord your God.” This is why we call them the “Decalogue,” or “ten words” (deka logoi). This Septuagint usage corresponds exactly to the Hebrew expression ‘aseret haddevarim, which is common in the Old Testament (e.g., Deuteronomy 10:4).
Second, God’s self-identification places the Decalogue entirely in the context of unmerited grace. He is not simply “the Lord your God,” but the One who “brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.” The observance of the commandments is man’s grateful response to the God who “first loved us” (1 John 4:19). The Ten Commandments, almost any time the Bible speaks of them, were “given” to Moses on Mount Sinai. Holy Scripture regards them entirely as gifts, component dimensions of God’s redemptive grace and covenant.
Third, God’s self-identification makes idolatry necessarily the first sin: “You shall have no other gods in My stead.” All other sins are material extensions of idolatry. When men exchange “the truth of God for a lie,” all other sins follow, because idolatry is the root cause of “all unrighteousness, sexual immorality, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness,” and so on (Romans 1:18-32). It is always the case that idolaters do “not repent of their murders or their sorceries or their sexual immorality or their thefts” (Revelation 9:20-21).
To ensure that false gods are not worshipped, a second commandment prohibits the making of images, especially images intended to represent the true God (verses 4-6). This prohibition played an important role in the history of salvation, because it prepared for the coming of the true Image of God, who is Christ our Lord (2 Corinthians 4:4; Colossians 1:15). The goal and purpose of this prohibition was fulfilled in the mystery of the Incarnation, in which its prophetic value was brought to completion.
In this respect the prohibition of images was similar to the prescription of the Sabbath rest (verses 8-11). That is to say, both commandments were preparatory to the coming of the Messiah, in whose appearance both were fulfilled.
Then there follows a prohibition against invoking the name of God irreverently or with evil purpose, such as magic or cursing (verse 7). This commandment did not preclude legal oaths (since perjury is forbidden in verse 16), but it did inspire a godly impulse to avoid oaths in normal conversation (James 5:12).
Then comes the precept of the Sabbath (verses 8-11), which had already been in effect (16:23). Here in Exodus the motive for the Sabbath is entirely theological; it is an imitation of God’s own Sabbath rest (Genesis 2:2-3). In the parallel text in Deuteronomy (5:12-15), however, there is included a certain humanitarian interest—man needs the rest.
The remaining commandments of the Decalogue are concerned with the relations among human beings (verses 12-17), and their inclusion indicates the social nature of man’s relationship to God. These commandments too are fulfilled in the morality of the Gospel (Romans 13:8-10).
The first of these latter commandments points to the importance of tradition, prescribing the honor due to parents. This is “the first commandment with a promise” (Ephesians 6:2).