Proper 22 Year A 2026: Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

I love a list. I always have. I can never have too many notepads. My school-issued planner got me through junior high and high school and I bought one every year of college and seminary. I currently have an app on my phone that has 13 separate lists, some shared with my husband and some just for me. We have lists of movies to watch and housework. Three separate lists called “groceries”, “Target”, and “shopping”, all of which are different. And I have one called “work” and one called “announcements”, which you will hear me read from after the peace. But I’m not unique in my love of lists. The human brain likes lists because they turn chaotic information into simple, bite-sized pieces that require less energy to process. Many of the articles on the psychology of lists were in listicle format: 7 reasons the human brain likes lists. Lists save energy, reduce our mental load, and give us a sense of control. But the simplicity of lists can also be their downfall. In my husband and my shared lists, it is often the grocery store that acts as our Achilles heel. He will put “pickles” on the list and I, who barely like pickles, will stand in front of the wall of pickles, paralyzed. Or I will have “tampons” on the list and if I know he’s going to the store, I will go back into the list and add to that one item a sublist: the brand, necessary specifics down to the color of the box so that he, who has never had to take any of those items into consideration in his shopping trip, will know what to do.

This morning we got our favorite scriptural list: the Ten Commandments. Christians love the Ten Commandments. Such a nice round number. So clear, with the “thou shall”s and “thou shalt not”s. Can’t get much clearer than “thou shalt not murder”. I often wonder why Christians are so taken with monuments to the Ten Commandments when Jesus gave us the Beatitudes - “blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted,” etc. And the writers of the synoptics, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, take pains to cast Jesus as a new and better Moses figure. Jesus does things Moses does but a little better; like a one-ups-manship. But the Beatitudes are less clear than the Ten Commandments seem. Less clear about who are blessed and who will be doing the filling of the hungry and giving of the mercy. The Ten Commandments are far clearer about who is to be doing, or not doing, each item: you. And it’s a singular you, not plural, so the audience is each individual person, not Israel as a community. Which is particularly important because of the content of each commandment.

You might notice that the first four commandments regulate behavior towards God. But the remaining six regulate behavior towards one another. How we treat one another matters to God and to hurt one another, to violate another’s trust, to covet what belongs to or is dedicated to another, is to sin against God. Remember there are 603 additional laws in the Torah. The Ten Commandments are not exhaustive. They can perhaps best be understood as an organizing principle. 

I find three in particular interesting. What is it to covet? For that matter, what is meant by “honor” your father and mother? Or to make “wrongful use”? That’s a different translation than the one I grew up with, which was to not take the name of the Lord in vain.

Let’s start with that one: “You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name.” “In vain” is technically a more correct 1:1 translation, but it’s not how we speak anymore and “wrongful use” is more what the commandment is getting at anyway. This commandment tends to be interpreted as policing swearing. But let me be clear: I don’t care if you swear. Maybe be mindful about it. But I don’t think God cares so much about swearing at a football game that He wrote it in stone between “don’t make idols” and “keep the sabbath”. So what is it really getting at? Using God’s name in vain profanes His character, turning the covenant relationship into an empty formality. The Hebrew word figuratively means “as an idol” - that is, don’t use the name of the Lord as if it doesn’t matter. Don’t use it for your own purposes. If you claim to be a follower of Christ while cutting food and medical benefits, are you following Christ or is the cross you wear a prop - an idol?

“Honor your father and your mother” is another one that gives folks pause. It’s the one I probably get the most follow-up questions about. The question is usually essentially: does God really want me to honor my abusive parent? My absent parent? The Hebrew word rendered “honor”, “ka-vahd”, is complicated. It does indeed mean “honor” in the way you probably are thinking of the word honor. But “ka-vahd” really means to be heavy, either for good or bad. So it could mean burdensome - like “carry the burden that is your parents”. Or, the verb envisions a “weight” that can be splendid. “Ka-vahd” ranges from literal heaviness to ideas of respect, importance, honor, glory, and, when twisted, obstinate hardness. It is used 115 times in the Hebrew Bible where it colors narratives, law, poetry, and prophecy with both blessing and warning. To see the word as a “weight” invites us to give proper weight to our relationships with our parents to form a holy and healthy family and community. The same word is used to describe the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah, Pharoah’s heart in the Exodus story is hardened by the same verb, and it is used to describe the literal weight of Absalom’s hair in Second Samuel. So no, God is not saying you must honor your abusive parent in the way in which they have probably demanded honor. That kind of honor, human honor, is derivative of God’s glory, which is the essence of God. The way in which we “ka-vahd” our parents makes room for relationships which aren’t as they should be or as we would wish them to be.

And finally, what is it to covet? Does it mean I can’t be jealous? Kind of. But it’s not quite that simple. Remember these are organizing principles. So if the definition seems trite, it might indicate the limited way we’ve been taught, or the limitations of translation. The English word covet means to strongly desire or long for something, especially something belonging to another person. Which is much closer to being right than the common interpretation of taking the Lord’s name in vain. But it’s not quite all the way there. The Hebrew “chamad” means “to delight in”, “to desire”, or “to take pleasure in”. It doesn’t contain the negative implications that “covet” contains. Chamad can be used on a spectrum that ranges from wholesome delight to illicit craving. Scripture uses it for what is “pleasant” to behold like the trees in the Garden of Eden, for treasures rightly valued like the decrees of the Lord in Psalm 109. As it is used here, it's a coveting that violates God’s law by wishing for something that belongs to another. Context alone distinguishes noble appreciation from sinful grasping. It is fitting that this is the final commandment because of how it differs from the nine before it. Unlike previous commands that regulate external actions, this statute exposes the heart.

As nice as lists are, the limitation is that they can’t be exhaustive. We are called to keep the simple from becoming simplistic; to keep rule-following from becoming legalistic. Early Christianity elevated the Ten Commandments, arguing that these were the only laws that were valid and relevant. In response, Jewish tradition downgraded their special status, asserting all the laws of the Torah are equally holy.

Any time I write a sermon heavy on word study, I step back and ask myself: is this a sermon or is it a Bible Study? And if it’s a Bible Study I start over because those are two different things. Here, I think it’s important for us to keep in our hearts, not just our minds, how differently these verses appear when seen in Hebrew. That they are not weapons to be displayed, not only in front of religious buildings and civic buildings, but guideposts, ensuring that we return back to the schema: to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind and to love your neighbor as yourself. Amen.