NOTES for Deu 10:1-22

It turns out that God demands nothing beyond our strength. Only reverence and love, only openness and honesty, only faithfulness and gratitude. Perhaps in practice this does not seem so simple? Yet Christ also says that His yoke is easy and His burden light. What, then, is the problem? Why does all this seem such an overwhelming task to us? How are we to love and open ourselves to God? Where is the threshold beyond which the burden of love becomes light?

The Gospel's answer is simple—simpler still than these demands: learn meekness and humility of heart from Jesus. It is so difficult... and so easy.

Commentators, reasoning about the fear of God and love for God, often set them against each other. But the Torah, as we can see, joins them so that one is impossible without the other. True, the fear spoken of in the Book of Deuteronomy has nothing in common with the fear of punishment that a child sometimes feels before strict parents or an adult before the state whose laws he has violated. Otherwise it would be hard to explain how such fear could make the one who fears walk in God's way, since the matter is not formal observance of certain norms and rules, but loving God with all one's heart and all one's being, or "soul."

Here it is rather fitting to speak of the fear of God as sacred trembling, which God's presence always evokes in a spiritually sensitive person, the trembling of a finite created being before the infinite Creator. And this trembling, of course, is not accidental: the gulf that separates us from God is completely insurmountable, neither by the laws of the untransformed world nor by the laws of the Kingdom. There is not and cannot be in the world any nature, transformed or untransformed, that would allow this gulf to be crossed. It is crossable only for God's love. It is precisely God's love that becomes the first cause and spiritual foundation of all revelations, all theophanies, and the incarnation of God itself. But a person can share in this love, enter into it, only if he is ready to turn to God "with all his heart" and "with all his soul."

Indeed, it is the heart, which in biblical language denotes the spiritual center of the human person, that spiritual "I" without which man as the image of God does not exist, that determines who and what a person will be before God and before people. The choice is made in the heart; decisions are accepted by the heart. And what is called spiritual life depends on the choice made and the decisions accepted: relations with God, with Christ, with one's neighbor.

But the matter is not limited to the heart alone, to the spiritual "I" alone. The choice made and the decisions accepted in connection with it, for example the choice to follow the Torah and observe the commandments given by God, will inevitably entail the restructuring of a person's whole inner world, the system of his values and priorities, and then also his way of thinking and behavioral patterns that determine all of life. In fact, it is otherwise impossible to follow the way of God, since the matter is love, and one cannot love partly. One can love only to the end. With all one's heart and all one's being. So that the gulf separating us from God may become crossable.

The commentators, talking about the fear of God and about love for God, set them quite often one to another. But here is the Torah, as seen, joins them such that one is impossible without the other. It is true that the fear, about which is spoken in the Book of Deuteronomy, has nothing common with the fear of punishment, which sometimes feels the child in front of the severe parents or the adult in front of the State, the laws of which he violated. Otherwise it would have been difficult to explain, how such a fear could oblige the one afraid of going on the way of God: because it is not about a formal observation of certain norms and rules, but to love God with all heart and all the being ("soul"). Here it should rather be spoken about the fear of God, as about a sacred awe, which always causes to man sensitively spiritually the presence of God, the trembling of the final created being before the infinite Creator.

And this fear is not of course a fate: because the abyss dividing us from God is absolutely insuperable, neither according to the laws of the not transformed world, nor according to the laws of the Kingdom. There is not and there can’t be in the world such a nature, transformed or not transformed, which would allow to overcome this abyss. It is surmountable only for the love of God. It is in particular the love of God that becomes the primary cause and the spiritual basis of all revelations, all Epiphanies and even the incarnation of God.

But a man can join this love, can enter it only in case he is ready to be converted to God with "all his heart" and "with all his soul". In fact, it is in particular the heart, that in the biblical language denotes the spiritual center of the human personality, the spiritual "I", without which the man as the image of God, does not exist, defines which and how will be the man before God and before people. The choice is made in the heart, decisions are made by heart. And of choices made and decisions taken, depends what is called the spiritual life: the relationship with God, with Christ, with the neighbor.

But everything limits itself of course not only with the heart, with the spiritual "I": the choice made and the decisions taken in touch with it (for example, the choice to follow the Torah and to observe the commandments given by God) will inevitably entail the reconstruction of the entire inner world of the person, his system of values and priorities, and then the way of thinking, and behavioral models defining the whole life. Actually, otherwise to follow the way of God will not work: because it is about love, and it is impossible to love partially. It is only possible completely. With all the heart and all the soul. So that the abyss dividing us from God becomes surmountable.

Readers of the Old Testament often speak of the chosenness of God's people as something that sets them apart from other peoples, giving them certain special rights and developing in them a sense of religious and spiritual, and perhaps even national, exclusiveness. Of course, some Jews had such feelings and thoughts in former times, and some have them today. But in any case, the Torah cultivates nothing of the kind among God's people in any way, and it teaches nothing of the kind.

In the Torah, being chosen by God is understood, above all, as the special responsibility of the Jewish people for the revelation they received and for the Torah entrusted to them. In the Torah one can find quite a few instructions on this point, and one of them can be seen in the demand for equal treatment of Jews and of those who ended up on the land given by God to His people as resident foreigners.

It should be noted that pagan antiquity in general tended to treat resident foreigners, foreigners, and strangers of every kind with disdain. Of course, there was an etiquette, developed over millennia of interethnic and, earlier still, intertribal relations, connected with the status of a foreigner, to whom in special cases considerable respect could be shown. But when such respect was shown, it was only because of the special status of that foreigner, a status determined by interstate or intertribal relations. The "ordinary" resident foreigner, as a rule, did not enjoy respect.

The Torah requires not merely respect, but precisely love for the resident foreigner, the foreigner, the stranger in general, the same love shown to one's own tribesmen. This is understandable: the land given by God to His people was given to them not as unconditional possession, but rather for use, on condition that they keep the covenant once made and fulfill God's commandments. And if so, then with regard to the land the operative principle is not so much right as responsibility: God's people are responsible for ensuring that those who live on the land God has given them live in accordance with the norms of the Torah.

But this responsibility in itself does not imply an exclusive right of the people to the land. It is no accident that on Jewish land and in the Jewish state, in the periods when it existed on the political map, other peoples also lived alongside Jews at all times. And it was precisely on the spiritual choice of God's people that the environment depended, as did the way problems of relations with those whom Jews perceived as strangers were resolved. For the land was given not to a specific ethnic group, but to a people as a community: those who keep the commandments and preserve the Torah.

The readers of the Old Testament argue rather often about God's chosen people as of something that distinguishes them from other peoples, giving them certain special rights and developing in them exclusive religious and spiritual feelings, and maybe, even national. Of course, such feelings and such ideas were appropriate to some of the Jews before and are appropriate today still. But in any case, the Torah cultivates in no way anything similar in the people of God and teaches nothing similar.

The elected of God is understood in the Torah, above all, as a special responsibility of the Jewish people for the received revelation and for the Torah which is entrusted to them. We can find not less of indications on this account in the Torah, and one of them can be considered the requirement of an equal relationship between the Jews and those who were on the land given by God to His people as strangers. It is necessary to notice that the heathen antiquity is rather generally appropriate to a contemptuous relationship to the strangers, foreigners in general.

Of course, there were here international practices elaborated during millenniums, and even before intertribal relationships label connected with the status of foreigner, which sometimes, in particular cases, could give a considerable respect. And if it was, only by virtue of the special status of such a foreigner, conditioned by the intergovernmental or intertribal relationships. "The common" stranger had as a rule no respect. But the Torah requires not simply for respect, but in particular for the love of the stranger, the foreigner in general, the same that people show to their tribesmen.

And it is clear: because the land given by God to His people, was given to them not in an unconditional possession, but rather for use, with the condition of the observation of the union-alliance concluded before and the fulfillment of God's commandments. And if it is the case, then acts in the relationships of the earth the principle not so much of the right, but the responsibility: the people of God are responsible for the fact that all the inhabitants living on the land that was given to them by God, live according to the norms of the Torah.

But this responsibility does not suppose in itself an exclusive right of the people for the land: it is not accidentally that on the Jewish land and in the Jewish State (when it existed on the political map) in all the times, other peoples also lived next to the Jews. And it was in particular from the spiritual choice of the people of God that depended, which was the environment and how were solved the problems of relationships with those whom the Jews perceived as foreigners. Because the land was not given to a specific ethnic group, but to people-community. Respecting the commandments and keeping the Torah.