“Shema
Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad.”
This begins the Shema,
“Hear, O Israel, the Lord
our God, the Lord is one.”
This is central to Jewish prayer in the Old Testament.
When God gave Moses the Torah, the first five books of the Old
Testament, the Shema became its central focus found in Deuteronomy
6:4-9. As Israel
recites the Shema they agree with the basic tenets of the faith.
Concentrating on its meaning they accept his sovereign rule and
the need for an undivided love of God. They commit to study the
Scriptures and to teach them to their children.
They agree to engage others in the discussion of the Scriptures
at every possible opportunity while placing memorials to stimulate these
habits. The Shema is recited by
the congregation of Israel during every worship gathering.
It is recited twice a day, in the morning and at bed-time.
It’s rolled up and slipped into a mezuzah, fastened to the door
of one’s house, where it is kissed upon entering.
Life revolves around these
thoughts. And when Jesus was
asked what the greatest commandment was, he recited from the Shema.
Does this have meaning for us?
In a consumer culture whose shelves are packed with a surplus of
gods, gods who compete and maneuver for the best angle of exploitation,
it’s striking to have One who will bring wholeness and life.
To have a national habit of discarding old idols on the heap of
past passion, only to rub one’s chin musing on the choice of another,
creates a chaos of overwhelming decisions.
Yet, we are confronted by the simplicity that he is the One, One
who brings peace and a simple life, One who brings change in the
unchangeable, One who brings freedom and a place to rest.
There’s no need to bustle about
in search of security, image, pleasure or purpose.
He is.
And though we see enormous
diversity, variety and ability in him, he is One.
In this beauty we find a humble submission to his sovereignty.
Our re-union with him is based on a complete deference to his
credibility and agenda. When
he speaks, we listen and act.
When he instructs we practice.
When he’s silent, we go back to review and practice what he’s
already taught. He isn’t
bothered at all by our questions, but raises an eyebrow when he’s
questioned. He challenges us
by burning off our non-sense helping us understand what we say we
believe. He confronts our
dishonesty and stands against our lame excuses.
He’s King but also mentor.
He’s approachable, yet the flippant will not find him. He’s
gentle but will not patronize. He’s
our Father not our peer, respect is accordingly due.
Our love for him is all-consuming, something anyone can recognize
in their heart. There’s no
place for half-heartedness, no sporadic mood or pigeon-holing that
moment early each day for him like a talisman.
Our days are bathed in him as we live, work and breathe.
And though we focus on tasks he’s not far away from any thought.
When we cry, he comforts.
When we laugh, he smiles.
When we’re rude, he disciplines.
We’re surprised by him, taught by him and stand in awe of him.
And when he heals our pain changing us within, we see a miracle.
As he intervenes in our need, we weep in appreciation.
Eventually we love nothing but him and learn to love all things
through him.
Because of this we commit to the study of the Scriptures,
mentored by his Spirit.
Nothing is so zesty and profound.
His teaching goes far beyond the academic, into the marrow of our
soul. He’s there ready with
new information, showing new applications and possible experiments.
He sets up scenarios and we practice with him right alongside us.
We soak in the understanding of his will.
The illustrations of those who have gone before us and his life
as he came to live among us, furnishes form for our lives.
Memorization, inductive & deductive chewing on his word
continually feeds us. And
when we’re baffled we know that in this hide & seek process we will find
him hiding in the most unlikely places.
From this interaction we share what we know of him with those we
love, those who came from our own souls.
We become a parent, like him.
We teach them about him in every situation, exposing them to the
delights of his life within us.
We let them learn how to interact with him, run to him with their
needs and be carried away with him in joy. We cry together learning from
him, sharing the same hereditary struggles that our children face.
If we have a problem, our children will probably have the same
one. If we have joy we will
no doubt find it wedged somewhere in our children as well.
If we appreciate him, they can too.
To impress them takes time, time to teach them how to process,
discuss and arrive at clarity with him.
How can that be done if we’re scattered to the ends of the
earth during the Lion’s share of the day?
As we interact with him a pattern of passion develops, a rhythm
of relationship, a tempo of training, not only in our family but in the
community we love, igniting a fire among friends.
Those who enjoy him relish the opportunity to contribute to it.
Those who don’t know him are drawn vaguely to the warmth.
As the flame grows we instinctually shrink-back expecting to be
scorched by this fellowship of fire where he is in the white-hot center.
Yet, we find that we can dwell within this blaze unharmed,
unbound and undaunted.
Hear, O Israel, what more would we want?
What more could we need? Who
else but the One who is king, the
One whose love consumes us, the One who changes us that we might be
kindred to him, the One who enables us to teach our children and be a
catalyst to our friends & community, the One who is so diverse.
Hear, O Israel, The Lord our God, the Lord is one.