Deuteronomy 30:9-14

Reading verses 9–14 by themselves makes for a confusing and incomplete logical progression, especially between vv9–10 and 11ff. In verse 11, Moses—who is speaking on behalf of God the Lord—says, “Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you” (NRSV). But what’s hard about the promises of prosperity we hear from God in vv9–10? It is incumbent on any preacher of this pericope to read the entirety of the chapter (and also at least the preceding chapter 29).

The Lord’s “commandment” is eclipsed in vv9–10 by the lavish anticipation of God’s delight in the faithful people. As the broader context makes clear, our set verses take place within God’s covenant renewal with Israel. The composition is likely a late expository and hortatory speech that motivates the listeners to live in accordance with the covenant. It consequently, is situated literarily as an exposition of the life that the covenant produces in God’s people. This helps us to see that the “commandment” mentioned in this week’s pericope is a gloss for all the contents of the Deuteronomic covenant law. Considering the expansiveness of the laws, it becomes a bit clearer why this might sound “too hard” (30:11).

But the weight of the Lord’s commandment lies in more than just the rigor of the law. It seems to me that it lies in the direct antecedent to 30:9–10, in 29:10–30:8, which surveys the effects of having heard God’s commandment. This larger passage foresees two responses to the covenant: obedience or arrogant self-reliance (29:19). The contrast, on the surface, seems far from exhaustive: is it really the case that we are either obedient or completely negligent of God’s commands? Don’t we recognize that we are much more ambiguous creatures, including within us competing desires and intentions, as Paul himself so famously narrates in Romans 7:14–23? Is there any hope that we can genuinely respond to God’s covenant with full obedience?

The question of the difficulty of God’s commandments turns on how we respond, having heard the covenant, its contents, and requirements. And this pushes us to think further about the “if … then” clauses in 30:1–4: if you call to mind God’s commands and return to the Lord, then God will restore your fortunes, etc. For, while it might seem that God’s covenantal grace is dependent on our actions—justification by works alone?—the if-clauses are themselves situated within the covenantal world generated by God. The conditional “if you do such-and-such” already assumes that the people only can do such-and-such because of the reordering of the world that God enacts through the gift of law and covenant.

The priority of divine agency makes sense of how Moses dissolves any dilemma for our human ability to obey. The conditions of the possibility of our obedience—God’s desires—are not “too far away. … not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?’” (30:11–12). On the contrary, Moses says, “the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart” (v14). In other words, the very gift of the law is what enables faithfulness. God does not have hidden desires, which—unbeknownst to us—will be the measure of our faithfulness. No, this would ensure our failure. Rather, God speaks to us—and this very speaking is what enables our response. God’s word—perhaps the Word?—opens up a new future for us, a future in which we now can live within God’s delight.

In this light, it seems to me—contrary to many commentators—that Paul is very close to Moses’ intentions when he quotes from Deut. 30:11–14 in Romans 10:6–10. Paul no doubt improvises on the verses, but in doing so, he heightens the dilemma of obedience and consequently refines our understanding of the priority of God’s grace. For Paul in Romans, the distinction is between “law” and “faith” (or “law” and “gospel”). By siding with “faith” against “law,” Paul certainly gives the appearance of opposing the flow of Moses’ thought as I’ve presented it so far. For, it seems that Moses suggests that the law is what enables faithfulness, but Paul apparently identifies the law with a lack of faith.

The contrast, though, is purely superficial. For, Paul in fact understands “law” as the attempt to manufacture God’s favor—i.e., to achieve for oneself the good future that God has promised by means of what is in one’s control (Rom. 10:3b). This is precisely what Moses condemns in Deut. 29:19. Paul recognizes that even God’s good gift, the law, can become a means of selfish self-promotion. But faithfulness to the Lord of the covenant is not something we manufacture on our own, as a “bridge” we construct to a distant heaven. “The word is very near; it is in your mouth” (Deut. 30:14)—that is, the Word who is Jesus Christ (Rom. 10:6–12).

With this improvisation, Paul clarifies the condition of the possibility of faithfulness—he clarifies how God’s covenant is fulfilled, both in the law for Jews and for Gentiles through excessive grace. It is not by brute act of the will—as if anyone can ascend by good deeds into heaven and attain divinity. The law and gospel both enable faithfulness because both are the form of God’s very presence to God’s people. Therefore, it is God’s very self that enables faithfulness, and so God’s very self is finally the form and the content of God’s promises—this, as Paul makes explicit, is the world-turning force of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus, the Word who is the presence of God in all other covenant-words, is in your mouths. Because in Jesus the Word dwells among us, the possibility of faithfulness is not set on an untraversable horizon but is spoken into our very being. And Jesus is the content of our doing and saying when we live into the world inaugurated by the Spirit.

The Spirit raised Jesus and so also brings God’s Word to life in us. As Paul had expressed earlier in Romans, “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Rom. 8:11), and, “When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God” (11:15–16). The proper response to law and to gospel (which are, after all, united in their true form in Christ) is an openness in our words and bodies to the divine exchange of the Word within God’s triune being. The Father speaks forth the Word into our humanity, and our manipulative desires try to work this Word into our own system of self-salvation—whether through the abuse of God’s law or through the destruction of Jesus’ body; but the Spirit lifts Jesus from the tomb and also raises the Word within our own bodies, so that our whole selves become transfigured words of God, glorified with Christ in the mutual love shared between these three (Romans 8:15–17, 35–39).

The words of Deuteronomy 30:9–14 are indeed difficult words—if we assume that they express some hidden, far-off divine agenda that we have to find our way to through our own efforts alone. But as Moses and Paul make clear, God’s words are not far-off, their “real” meaning and content is not kept secret and stored away in a distant land. Rather, God’s word is spoken into our own mouths, by God. No doubt this pertains to the verbal confession of Jesus Christ in Paul’s improvisation, when we literally form the word “Jesus” with our lips (Rom. 10:9–10). But we don’t merely produce God’s Word in our mouths—we first receive him through our mouths (1 Cor. 11:23–25).

So, how do we respond to God’s commands, to God’s good law, to the new world generated in Christ’s death and resurrection and the outpouring of the Spirit?

“The word is in your mouth”—take and eat.