Lawbreakers (Easter - Day 46)

(Based on Hebrews 7:1-17)

There is nothing that brings me closer to the realization that laws and moral codes cannot bring perfection than remembering what it is like to drink. It is morally/spiritually wrong for me because when I consume any amount of alcohol whatsoever, I crave more. I do and say things that are out of my control. In a way, I've let myself be taken over by a power that's trying to kill me and the people around me. It's legally wrong for me because I get behind the wheel of a car and drive a bomb on wheels, putting everything and everyone on the road at risk. Yet, when the powerful obsession comes one, there is no amount of thinking or moral rightness that will change my course of action. I know the law, but it is not enough. What the laws were created to do don't have the power to make me obey them or become a better person. My moral codes and the laws of the land - in the long run - are systems of reactive discipline. Created to be preventive measures for wrongdoing, they ended up being reactive forces of shame and punishment. 

In the Old Testament, the same was true. There were laws handed down to the Levitical line of priests to hand down to the citizens. They were created to enable people to love themselves, other people, and God. However, as people - all suffering from the same human condition - continuously broke these moral/legal statutes, the laws handed down became avenues of punishment rather than catalysts for growth and harmony. Following the law became more about trying not to mess up than trying to be better people. The laws lost their power to perfect, which was what they were created to do. 

The author of Hebrews tells us that somewhere in the past, there was a new kind of priest who arrived on the scene. His name was Melchezedek. Apparently, this man had no family ties, no birth nor death certificate, yet did the same things priests from the royal line did. He collected tithes and gave blessings. Even Abraham, the "father of the nations," gave Mel a tenth of his income and spoils from war. Evidently, there was this thought that maybe if they just find a king who has no ties to the current system of law, things will get better. The law will return to its original intentions. It will make people mature. It will make people better, and the law will be restored back to its original intent - perfection. 

However, this idea didn't work. The author parallels the narrative of this king with the narrative of Jesus. They both had family ties that were not in line with the royal priesthood. They both became high priests even though they didn't inherit their positions out of genealogical ties. They were "new blood" in a time of much needed change. But that's where it stops. With Melchezedek, even the progressive thinking in making him the king wasn't enough. The truth was, there was nothing that could restore the law to its original purpose because human beings were not perfect and never would be. 

So, Jesus comes along according to the author, and ushers in this new, completely radical shift in what the law is and what it's supposed to do. The author says this new system of law is so radical that it can't even be looked at through the lens of "the ten commandments and all of its counterparts." 

What the author is suggesting here is huge. He or she is saying that in order to view what Jesus came to do and what Jesus did, we have to suspend our realities of the ten commandments and all the other laws that came with it. We have to suspend all of our preconceived notions of what is right and wrong. We have to suspend all of the moral traditions that have been handed down to us through our genealogical ties. If we don't, we are mixing oil and water. We are trying to fit something that's so radical and so life changing into a system that doesn't work. 

For example, I am dating a girl who just recently got divorced. The story doesn't start there though. I started dating her over three years ago, while she was still married. Was it chaotic? Absolutely. Did I have the notion that it was against moral and spiritual law? Absolutely. Did I have to face the fact that what I was doing was completely against the tradition of my genealogy? Yes. Did I have all the verses from the Old Testament and the ten commandments floating around in my head all the time? Absolutely.

Here's what happened. Holding on to all my preconceived beliefs and notions about the old law, it was impossible to move forward and see the restoration that was happening right before my eyes. The truth was, her husband was suffering greatly from a traumatic brain injury. She was suffering from the loss of her husband. I was suffering from banging my head against the wall, wondering how in the world I got into the mess in the first place, cursing God for giving me desires that went "against his own laws." It took about a year to finally have a window of sunlight open in my soul, enough to create a pressure crack that would keep growing, and growing, and growing. 

What I began to see was reality. The more I left my preconceived notions of all the laws I was breaking out of my moral and religious beliefs, the more I woke up to the story of redemption and restoration that I was being invited into. And that, my friends, is waking up to the narrative of what Jesus came to do. 

When we suspend our hard-lined notions of what is right and wrong, and enter into stories that would normally be "off limits" or unorthodox, we find that redemption and restoration cannot be created by law and religious ritual. Although they were created for that exact purpose, we are human and not perfect. Perfect laws cannot create perfect human beings. So, the narrative has it that Jesus showed up to completely turn the law on its head. He came so that lawbreakers and moral unrighteous people could enter into the stories of redemption happening all around us. He came so that the unreligious and unspiritual could have the opportunity to live out their God-given drives to make the world a better place. He completely opened up the law to take on a new purpose. 

The authors of the gospels tell us that through his death and resurrection, Jesus did what the law could never do: made all of humanity, past, present, and future, perfect. I don't mean perfect in our way of looking at each other and ourselves, but perfect in the way the Divine looks at human beings and creation. Through the cross and resurrection, the Maker of the universe was able to say once more, "It is good," while the Christ said, "It is Finished." 

The intention of the law became something different. It was and is now a tool to be used in spiritual growth. It is not intended for perfection or judgment, but merely a tool to "get better." We shouldn't use it as a measure of perfection, because the law lost that power shortly after it was created. We should use it as a way to freely explore ways to improve our moral well-beings and the ways we treat ourselves and others. 

Today's Action: Try to go all day without judging others. We all have ideas and engrained concepts of what is right and wrong. We measure ourselves and others up to these conceptions. Today, may we let other people be, without the need to point out their flaws and measure them up against our own notions of morality and conduct. Thank God that He sees us as perfect along the way.