This chunk of text covers a variety of material, and some of it is decidedly troubling to read. Trying to find general principles and/or things that are maybe hopeful is quite challenging.
Resident Aliens
A few years back, it became quite trendy for Christians to describe themselves as 'resident aliens', combining a sense that we are to be "in the world but not of it" and at the same time "salt and light". The world - for which read everything we find distasteful about contemporary secular society - is not our true home but whilst we live here we are to transform it. Or something like that anyway.
In the rules for religious offerings, provision is to be made by Moses for any 'resident alien' who so wishes to perfrom ritual sacrifices "you and the alien shall be alike before the LORD". It is this that strikes me most, I think, especially in the light of the politcal machinations in Europe over benefits for economic migrants, and of course the ongoing refugee crisis. What happens if we take as given the idea that, before the LORD everyone is alike? That everyone has equal worth, equal rights...
It also made me wonder who might be the 'resident aliens' in our churches, and how their experience compares with the ideal expressed here.
Unintentioned Sin
The atonement for unintentional sin comes in two catetgories - corproate and personal - each with means of atonement. If collectively and unintenionally the people foul up, responsibility is shared and everyone is involved in the process of atonement. If it is an individual, then they alone must seek atonement.
A few years back, there was a rash of Christian groups making public apologies for their part in the transatlantic slave trade, outwardly at least a form of corporate confession. Some efforts at reparation, or at least reconciliation have taken place but, to be honest, most people in most churches are largely oblivious. And there those who question whether such apologies have any real worth or even legitimacy.
Perhaps what is significant here is the corproate nature of responsibility, irrespective who did wrong or failed to do right... everyone has their part to play and whilst ignorance fits with lack of intention, it does not remove responsibility. Is it, and maybe it is, a step to far to see a hint of a 'no blame' culture, where rather than criticising those who foul up, everyone is de facto implicated and - hopefully - everyone will work together to prevent recurrence?
Tie a knot in your neck...
When I was growing up, the saying 'tie a knot in your handkerchief' as a reminder that something had to be remembered morphed into the less lovely 'tie a knot in your neck'. I think this emerged from a story in which an elephant tied a knot in his trunk for the same purpose - but my memory is fuzzy.
The tassles with their blue cord, the fringes of remembrance stitched to the corners of the garments were intended to serve this purpose. Later philacteries would perform a similar function. And inevitably, over time, the symbolism risked being lost as custom and practice ceased to be underpinned by real understanding.
For most of my adult life I've worn a cross, a couple of different ones down the years, as a kind of symbol to myself, a reminder, at least in theory, of my faith. For several years I wore a ring that I bought to mark my ordination, a visible reminder of the promises I made on that day. I had to stop wearing the ring when lymphoedema caused my finger to swell too much, and recently when the chain on my cross broke I opted not to replace it. I don't "need" these symbols as reminders, and wearing them can become mere 'habit'. And yet... And yet, I think there is worth in such symbols, and perhaps in personal rituals, that serve as reminders of important values or moments.
Yikes, and Double Yikes!
Stoning to death for stick gathering on the sabbath seems incredibly harsh - and this little insertion serves only to instill fear.
The account of dissent in the ranks, the challenge to Moses from those who consider everyone to be holy, the sink hole that swallows up whole families and the plague that rages through the camp, is troubling in extremis. Maybe there are legitimate questions to explore about the ordering of the faith community, and about the attitudes (perceived or actual) of, or towards, those in leadership. Maybe dissension is a topic that sometimes needs to be recognised and addressed. But the consequences attributed to divine mandate are incomprehensible. Where is love or forgiveness or atonement here?
The one glimmer of grace in this story comes in the action of Aaron who, at Moses' command goes into the midst of the carnage and acts as a mediator, making atonment for the people and so stopping the relentless progress of the plague. It takes courage, as well as conviction, to enter a situation of despair and attempt to bring hope. I have huge admiration for those who, only last week, went to Calais and planted a fig and a vine by the fence that marks the edge of the container camp in Calais, defiantly symbolising hope where, humanly speaking, there is little or none. I admire those who act as mediators in all manner of conflict situations, from polite middle class stand-offs to violent and war-torn regions.
It is way too easy, as I have sometimes heard done, to dismiss as iredeemable those in this story who perished; way too easy to make the story fit our own version of what God is like. Harder, but ultimately more honest, to find it troubling.
Not an easy couple of chapters - so bonus points to anyone who is still reading!