INTRODUCTION: Not to be Bargained With
One of the volumes of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia is the creation story of the world of Narnia, where animals talk; a land ruled by the Christ-like Lion Aslan. In this book, called The Magician’s Nephew, a little boy named Digory, whose mother is dying, finds himself in a newly-created Narnia, brought into existence by the voice of Aslan. But Digory has also brought evil into this pristine world, and so he must now face Aslan:
“Son of Adam,” said Aslan. “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth?” “Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory. “You see, the Queen ran away and—”
“I asked, are you ready,” said the Lion.
“Yes,” said Digory. He’d had for a second some wild idea of saying “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help about my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with. But when he had said “Yes,” he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:
“But please, please—won’t you—can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at [his] face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.
“My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.”
There are two very profound thoughts here. The first is that Aslan is not one to be bargained with. He cannot be manipulated. He cannot be controlled. He is not a tame Lion. But secondly, when Digory looks up into the Lion’s face, he finds not wrath, but sadness and compassion, love and mercy. Now, in the story of the golden bull, the story of Israel’s greatest sin, we see the face of God’s wrath, but we end with the face of the LORD’s mercy. The people of God were playing with fire, and they were very close to getting burned. But because of Moses, who pleads for them, who defends a people who are indefensible, we see the face of God’s compassion, his devotion to those who, for all the world, seem like a hopeless case.
I. THOSE OF THE STIFF NECKS
This is the story—not just of something that happened thousands of years ago. It is a story that reveals who God’s people are, not just something they did once. It is the story of those of the stiff-necks. It is a story about all of us.
First, a little Bible history review: The Hebrew people were slaves in Egypt, toiling away to build Pharaoh’s pyramids. But they were the LORD’s people, not the property of the Egyptian king; so the LORD warned Pharaoh, afflicting his nation with ten nasty plagues until Pharaoh relented. But then Pharaoh changed his mind and sent his army after Moses. The LORD opened up the sea for his children to pass through, and then destroyed the army of Pharaoh with a flood when he let the walls of water come crashing down.
But the children of Israel turned out to be grumblers. They grumbled against the LORD, and they grumbled against their leader: God’s spokesman, Moses. For them, it was “out of sight, out of mind.” Whenever there was not a visible, tangible sign of God’s presence, they assumed he had left them on their own. “Where’s that Moses fellow?” they start to grumble. “Well, if he’s not here to boss us around, then we’ll do things our own way, and take matters into our own hands.” And that is the beginning of every sin; it’s the first step away from God, and into disaster.
The people want Aaron to make this golden bull because they want a visible sign of God’s presence with them. The ironic thing is—Moses is up on the mountain getting instructions to build the Tabernacle—the tent-temple that will be a concrete, visible sign of the LORD’s presence and protection. But these people have no patience for that. They want something now.
These are people suffering from the “stiff-neck syndrome.” The symptoms of this disease are, first of all, impatience with God and his servants. “This Moses fellow is taking too long. Maybe some wild animal ate him.” The people have a desperate need for instant gratification.
The second symptom of a stiff neck is forgetfulness. Notice that the children of Israel forgot who it was who really led them out of Egypt and delivered them from their slavery. They say, in verse 1, that it was “that fellow Moses” who did it. Wrong! It was the LORD…but again, out of sight, out of mind. They’ve also forgotten how bad it was in Egypt, and they complain because the trip to the Promised Land isn’t all that pleasant. It’s hot. It’s dry. There’s no air conditioning. The food’s not that great. The same thing, every day: this manna stuff. And it only comes in one flavor.
II. MAKING LIGHT OF WORSHIP
The big mistake of these stiff-necked people is that they make light of worship; they don’t take the LORD God very seriously. The ancient people of that region believed that there were local gods for every tribe who, if you treated them well, would bless your crops and livestock. The Israelites approach the LORD as if he were one of these little local gods. They’re not worshipping some other god, like Baal; they’re trying to worship God in the same way that the pagans worship their little local deities. Thus the golden bull.
They had heard Moses reading the book of the covenant, God’s law; but they are casual with the commandments—here, with the second commandment. The sophisticated among them explain: “Those ‘commandments’ are really just suggestions. And they’re really just the opinions of that fellow Moses, his personal theory of worship. And it’s rather stuffy. Don’t do this, don’t do that. It’s kind of legalistic, don’t you think? We need some diversity in our worship. We need to adapt our worship of God to where people are today—you know, relate it to the land, to raising crops and flocks and herds. So, Aaron, let’s cast for the LORD a really excellent image of strength and fertility. Something more contemporary, that meets us where we are. A golden bull—now that would be perfect. We’ll make it out of all that gold that we got from the Egyptians.”
I don’t know why, or how, Aaron could go along with this. Maybe it was the pressure of the crowd. Maybe he was taken in by these arguments. But are we any wiser than Aaron? We don’t cast golden idols, but we, too, can be casual with God’s commandment about images. We often create God in our own image. We try to tame him. Or we make him out to be fierce toward our enemies. Or we fashion him into a blessing-dispensing machine: Insert a couple of prayers and out come the blessings.
After they had made their golden bull, and after Aaron declared that this idol was the LORD, their God who had brought them out of Egypt, the people celebrated with a feast, with offerings, and then, in the old translation, “they rose up to play.” Some think this “play,” this revelry, involved promiscuous behavior and immorality. But even if it didn’t, there was nothing to celebrate. They were playing games with God, being careless in their worship.
Again, I have to emphasize that the children of Israel were not worshipping Baal or some other god; thus they call their revelry “a festival to the LORD.” They intended to worship the LORD, but they did it in a completely unacceptable way. They took the liberty of worshipping him in a way that felt familiar, comfortable, one that didn’t challenge them too much. It was truly seeker-friendly worship for people who were used to the spirituality of fertility, the religion of crops and livestock. When they came to worship him, they put on their shorts and Hawaiian shirts and their casual sandals, because they were coming to spend time with their old pal the LORD. There’s nothing special about coming into his presence, so just come as you are. If your worship is casual, dress for the occasion. If your worship is careless and carefree, don’t worry about making any preparations, just go with the flow.
III. KINDLING THE FLAME OF DIVINE WRATH
Meanwhile, back on the mountaintop, the flame of divine wrath is being kindled. Here the face of God is one of consuming fire, a face that incinerates everything that is not pure and holy. And it is this fiery face of God that seems to be about to disown his own. Listen to what the LORD says to Moses: “Go down, because your people, whom you brought up out Egypt, have become corrupt…” It’s like he’s saying to Moses: Do you see what your people are doing down there? Like when Dad says to Mom, “Do you know what your kid did today?” But if the children of Israel will disown him, then the LORD has every right to disown them. God’s people, forgetful and ungrateful, have rejected the LORD’s leadership, broken his covenant, and ruined their relationship with God.
That’s what sin is, and that’s what sin does. It doesn’t just break rules; it ruins relationship. Neal Plantinga writes:
“Sin is a religious concept, not just a moral one. Sin is lawlessness, culpable folly, moral wandering, faithlessness, and much more. But, we call these moral misadventures sin because they offend and betray God. Sin is not only the breaking of law, but also the breaking of covenant with one’s savior. Sin smears a relationship; sin grieves one’s divine parent and benefactor; sin betrays the partner to whom one is joined by a holy bond.”
The Lord pronounces a verdict on his people—one that continues to echo from that mountain thousands of years ago, and reverberates still here today: They are stiff-necked people. Like an ox who stiffens its neck and will not take the yoke of obedience, the yoke of discipleship, they will always be resisting me. They will be forever doubting my word, and turning to the more immediate security of worldly forms of spirituality and worship, which they think will work better or faster or easier. They will always be looking for spiritual fads to replace real discipline, entertainment to replace authentic worship. They are a people who constantly wrestle with me. So, Moses, get out of the way while I incinerate them. Then I will make you into a great nation.
IV. THE INTERCESSION OF THAT FELLOW MOSES
Now, we don’t know if Moses was tempted—even for just a moment—into becoming a second Abraham, and rebuilding the nation of Israel from scratch. At his age the idea of changing diapers would probably not be all that appealing. He knows the LORD is not dependent on anyone to accomplish his purpose—he can raise up children and leaders from the rocks. But Moses throws his lot in with the stiff-necked sinners in the valley below. Here begins the intercession of “that fellow Moses,” pleading the case of those who have no case, defending the indefensible.
Moses makes no excuses for the people. “Yes, they are a stiff-necked people. But they are your stiff-necked people.” And Moses appeals to the face of God—not the face of burning anger, but the face of love and compassion. Literally: “Moses sought the face of the LORD his God.” And before the merciful face of God, he offers two arguments.
First he appeals to the LORD’s honor, his integrity, and his reputation in the world. Moses says: You have every right to obliterate these people…but how will it look? What will the nations say? What will the Egyptians say? Look, the LORD brought the people out of Egypt so he could have the pleasure of destroying them himself! It will look like the LORD was defeated by his own people—it will look like their stubbornness was too much for their God, too much for him to handle, too much for him to overcome. It will look as if the stubbornness of God’s people is stronger than your tenacious love, your relentless pursuit of their salvation.
Secondly, Moses appeals to the Lord’s covenant faithfulness, his ancient promises to the mothers and fathers of Israel. Moses says, “Remember your servants: Abraham, Isaac, and…Israel.” Israel. Not: “Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” which is the normal formula for speaking of the patriarchs, the fathers of the Hebrew people—but Israel, the name that means: “He who wrestles with God.” Moses reminds the LORD of all of his rocky relationships with the people he loves. And he dares to challenge the LORD: “Sovereign LORD, be the God and Savior of these most challenging, incorrigible, hopeless people. Prove to the nations that they are not too much for you. Remember your promises to our fathers—your promises to us. We are a people who are destined to wrestle with you forever. Please wrestle us into obedience, and into holiness, and into salvation. We are a stiff-necked people; but we are your stiff-necked people. Love us, though we be unlovable, and redeem us, even though we are beyond redemption.”
And the LORD relented. The intercession of that fellow Moses was pretty powerful. He won his case, even while admitting his client’s guilt. It’s like the LORD says, “Well, if you put it that way, Moses, then I will be the God and Savior of this people—even if it kills me.”
And he did, and he does, and it did. That is, he continued to be the God of Israel, and he continues to be the God of his stiff-necked church, and it did kill him—to send his Son to the cross for a bunch of stiff-necked idolaters who never learn.
We have no Moses, but we have an even better counsel for our defense, an even greater Intercessor, our Lord Jesus Christ. One who always appeals to the face of his Father’s mercy, and turns away the face of his wrath…by reminding him of the cross.
We are a stiff-necked people, approaching the Lord casually and carelessly, seeking to control and manipulate him, treating him as if he were as tame as a housecat. We’re still playing with fire. We should not presume that in doing so, we won’t get burned. As the Bible says in the book of Hebrews: Our God is a consuming fire, so let us worship him acceptably, with reverence and awe. We cannot forget the face of his holiness—the face that makes us tremble.
But his is also the face of mercy, of compassion, of a love shaped by his sharing of our grief and sadness. When we look into his shining face of love, we see the tears that he has shed for us, and over us. And we hear him speak his word of grace, through Jesus Christ: “Let us be good to one another.”
