Sermon: "Danger and Promise," (the Seventh Commandment), October 31, 2021

Preacher: The Rev. Ryan Slifka
Scripture: Exodus 20:1-14

The Seventh Commandment in our Sermon Series on the Ten Commandments, “you shall not commit adultery.”

Today we continue with another commandment directed towards our neighbours, which is probably the most awkward for every day conversation: “you shall not commit adultery.” Of course, the first thing that anyone wants to hear a member of the clergy talk about is sex. Yay!

Now, as modern people, we would—at least generally—agree with the wrongness in sleeping someone we're not married to when we're married. Or even if we're not married, but committed. It's bad, but it's not the worst thing we could do. We probably wouldn't put it in our top ten list of sins.

But as you can see, the Bible does. Right here in the Ten Commandments. Here we're only given a single sentence, “you shall not commit adultery,” but if you read further things are fleshed out a little more. In the book of Genesis chapter 20, verse 9 it's called a “great sin.” In 26:10 it's a potential source of “great guilt.” It's considered so grave that the book of Leviticus sets it up as a capital crime, the death penalty.[i] Adultery is considered such a heinous action that it's one of the primary metaphors that the Bible uses to describe Israel's turning away from God towards idols. Israel's continually condemned as fooling around on the one true God with false ones. And it always leads to their destruction.

The Bible seems to have a straightforward view on adultery: it's not good. Don't do it. Or else. Not much wiggle room here.

Now, this viewpoint seems particularly harsh to us. And, no doubt about it—it is. In fact, this is one of those things we'd use to draw the distinction between western democracies on one hand and the views of say, the Taliban on the other. Who—according to news reports—are now re-implementing laws similar to those we find in Leviticus now that they are in charge of Afghanistan again.[ii] The softening of our views is a welcome change. I'd say especially for women, who've historically borne the brunt of shame and punishment when it comes to adultery. Thank God that our views have changed. Which is actually mostly thanks to Christianity in the end. But that's a subject for another sermon.

While we should be very glad that we've left some of the brutality of these views behind, there is something important that the Bible understands that we maybe don't. The Bible puts adultery in the “top ten,” and highly regulates it with stiff laws because human sexuality is extremely powerful and can be extremely destructive.

And this is well illustrated with what might be the most famous story of adultery in the Bible—the story of King David and Bathsheba.[iii] Here David, the King, desires Bathsheba, the wife of his friend Uriah. “He saw her bathing on the roof, and the beauty and the moonlight overthrew him.” So he sends his minions to take her. We're not told if she consents or not—which really doesn't matter because he's the king. Would she say “no” even if she didn't want to? She ends up pregnant, and in order to not be found out David orchestrates the death of his friend by putting him at the front of the battle line. When it's found out, David comes clean, he confesses, escapes the death penalty. He's rich, and the king, after all.

But he doesn't escape the consequences. Not only does Bathsheba lose their baby, eventually when David's confronted by the prophet, Nathan, we're told that this affair’s put the whole kingdom under God's judgment. It not only ruined his friend's marriage, and cost him his life, it put into motion events that bring about the decline and eventual destruction of his dynasty.

His little affair had personal, national, and even international consequences. It has all the makings of so many modern headlines, from #MeToo to the department of national defence. Sex can drive us to abuse and oppress another person created in the image of God to satisfy our desires. It can drive us to lie and go through great lengths to hide those lies. It can destroy families and friendships. It can even cost lives, bring down institutions and short-circuit nations. While sex is good, part of God's good creation—there’s no doubt about that—like anything else it's open to deep distortion and destruction. It can be so dangerous that Jesus himself warns not only against the act of adultery, he points out that even a little lust in the heart can snowball like crazy.

This whole episode with David is a master class on just how dangerous sex can be. Some of us here know its destruction first hand. We've had to live with the consequences of someone else's unchecked desires. Or maybe our own. It's like playing with fire, only we're not the only ones who get burned. It's just as likely to engulf and destroy entire lives.

In that sense the Bible's not anti-sex. It's simply clear-eyed about this aspect of human nature. This commandment is a sort of guardrail to keep us from smashing into innocent pedestrians. Marriage and monogamy, these are a kind of divine fire-retardant to keep us from the worst outcomes of our most powerful impulses.

Now, you might be thinking at this point—gosh that sure sounds depressing. I mean, if monogamy and marriage are just to keep us from hurting ourselves and others, they're about as inspiring as a bicycle helmet. Or as claustrophobic as a wrought-iron cage. Might as well risk the other way—at least it's got some fun. Dangerous and destructive as it may be.

But it's more than just social safety gear. It's no mistake that the language of monogamy is the language of faithfulness. While infidelity is one of the most common images used to lambaste Israel's idolatry, fidelity is used just as commonly to describe God's loyalty to Israel. In spite of their many sins. Similarly, the language of bride-groom and bride paints a marital picture of Jesus and his relationship with the church. God simply refuses to give up on us. God's in it for the long haul. God sees who we are, and still says “yes,” to eternity with us anyway.

Which means that in faithfulness to eachother, we can actually learn, and experience something about how God is faithful to us. Because a good marriage or partnership isn't one where we're all on our A-game, never slipping up, never doing wrong. I attended a wedding once where the groom wrote his own vows, and he promised to never lose his desire for his bride, and to always show an interest in her interests, no matter what. Which makes you wonder if a vow is still a vow when it’s a flat out lie. But the truth is that our spouses and partners are privy to who we truly are, and will see us at our worst.

The best marriages are where we're seen in our totality, and loved anyway in spite of it. The best marriages aren't ones where everybody's always doing what's right, but where forgiveness heals our many wrongs. I say this because I know it. Marriage, partnership really is intended not just as a way to inhibit our most primal urges, but as a means of grace. A lifetime of faithfulness is the positive, the flip side of the prohibition against adultery. It’s one of the ways we come to know God. Our spouses may not be Jesus, but they can be the closest stand-in for Jesus that we'll ever know.

Ok, so we've considered this commandment as a shield against some of our most destructive behaviour, as well as a conduit through which we experience the love of God first-hand. But there's one more thing that needs to be said about it before the “amen.”

Whether breaking it means doing the deed itself, or taking a step along the way. Whether it's bodily, emotional, or virtual. What if we've broken it? It's safe to say that some of us here have. It's safe to say due to simple statistics.

In John's gospel, chapter 8,[iv] we're told of Jesus' encounter with a woman who'd been caught in adultery. Now, in this story we're told the whole town gathers round, with stones in their hands. They're ready to implement that death penalty we heard about in Leviticus. It's clear in the story she was caught, she was guilty. This is how the criminal code handles these things.

How Jesus handles this though, is different. He steps between her and the crowd. He puts his own body between this guilty woman and her accusers. And then he challenges them. “He who is without sin should cast the first stone.” Jesus says, anyone who's truly innocent of any wrong, step right up. Toss those rocks right now. Of course, none of them can actually do it. So they toss their weapons on the grass, and they go home, leaving just her and Jesus. Sparing the woman altogether. And after they're gone Jesus asks her “who's left to condemn you?” She replies “no one.” And he responds, “then neither do I condemn you. Go now and sin no more.”

Now, you'll notice that Jesus doesn't intervene with the crowd by saying what she did wasn't a big deal. I mean, we don't know exactly what she did, but she could have destroyed a family, a marriage, a whole community. It likely changed her life, altered her relationships permanently. And he doesn't tell the woman that what she did was actually okay, you coulda done worse. No. Jesus upholds the Biblical seriousness of the act. The utter wrongness of the thing still stands. Seventh commandment still in effect.

Instead of condemning her though, punishing her, Jesus stands between her and the law. He puts his own body between her and the consequences of her sin. Just as he would later do on the cross for all, that time bearing all the world's stones in a single pitch. Even though she's committed one of the top ten worst sins, Jesus Christ, the Creator-come-creature, forgives her. And in being forgiven she she’s set free to live again. He’s raised her from the dead. To turn away, and start over.

It’s that that faithful God at work, yet again. The One who’s faithful even to those who’ve been unable to be faithful.

Which means that if you're one of those statistically probably people out there, this same promise is for you. Jesus Christ on the cross stands between you and your condemnation, even though you may deserve it. The only one with the authority to cast the first stone has laid it all aside for your sake. There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Even though you don't deserve it, you're forgiven. It's not all there is, nor is it all you are. On account of Jesus, you're no longer that person anymore.

Brothers and sisters, the seventh commandment is given for our good.

On one hand, it's given because human sexuality in all of its beauty can also be the source of deep brokenness, heartache, and pain. Monogamy and fidelity, these guard against our worst impulses and excesses.

On the other hand, it’s more than just that. This commandment is given because marriage and commitment are means of grace, ways to experience the depth and height of God's love for us. To be known, seen, loved and forgiven, as we are known, seen, loved and forgiven by God. It's a beautiful thing.

But perhaps the most beautiful thing is how God deals with us when we haven't kept it, when we've broken it. When we've broken any of them, really. This God is like the spouse we could never be. This God knows us in our entirety, sees us in all of our failures and infidelities, and yet refuses to call it quits. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish always. Not even at death do us part.

May the wondrously faithful God have mercy on us, and incline our hearts to keep this law.

AMEN.

[i] Leviticus 20:10.

[ii] https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/17/world/asia/taliban-women-ministry-religious-police.html?searchResultPosition=6

[iii] See 2 Samuel 11 and following chapters.

[iv] John 8:1-11.