Some Thoughts on The Ten Commandments

Christian nationalism is abhorrent in any form it takes. One recent form is Louisiana legislation that mandates posting the Ten Commandments on the walls of every classroom in the state. Setting aside the obvious constitutional issues – should Satanists post their commandments on every classroom wall as well? – this blending of church and state should be offensive to all Christians.

Before I go into the details of why this is offensive, I’m going to make a shocking theological claim: I don’t think the Ten Commandments apply to Christians.

I’m certainly in the minority opinion on that one, especially in my growing circle of Lutheran friends. I once told one of these friends my opinion on the Ten Commandments and in true Lutheran fashion he said nothing, but he shot me a look as if I had instead said, “I never wash my underwear.” Most Protestants will find themselves in a stream that goes all the way back to Luther or Calvin, thus you will find the Ten Commandments in your catechisms, Sunday schools and now in your Louisiana classrooms.

To say that I don’t think the Ten Commandments apply to Christians sounds like I’m advocating for murder, adultery and ass-coveting. I’m not. Those things are still covered in Jesus’ commands to love God and neighbor. I’m just trying to make the best sense I can of these words from Paul about the new covenant:

2 Corinthians 3:1-7

Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Surely, we do not need, as some do, letters of recommendation to you or from you, do we? You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by all, and you show that you are a letter of Christ, prepared by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets that are human hearts. Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are qualified of ourselves to claim anything as coming from us; our qualification is from God, who has made us qualified to be ministers of a new covenant, not of letter but of spirit, for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

Now if the ministry of death, chiseled in letters on stone tablets, came in glory so that the people of Israel could not gaze at Moses’s face because of the glory of his face, a glory now set aside, how much more will the ministry of the Spirit come in glory? 

I’m not a Pauline scholar, so bear with me as I’m sure there are much better explanations out there than I can provide. But here are my quick notes. There was an old covenant. That is represented here specifically by the Ten Commandments because there can be no other interpretation of, “tablets of stone,” or, “stone tablets.” Paul then calls the Ten Commandments, “the ministry of death.” Hardly a five-star review, although it is an awesome band name.

Please read all of 2 Corinthians 3 for yourself, first to make sure I’m being as honest as possible, but also because it ends with a wonderful promise of theosis where the Holy Spirit works to transform us into better images of God. The chapter is super short, you can read it in about 60 seconds and it will stick with you for a long time.

The first thing Moses does after receiving the Ten Commandments is, well, break the Ten Commandments. This is why we can’t have nice things.

Keeping the Sabbath

Almost all the Ten Commandments tie directly to love God and neighbor, save the one about keeping the Sabbath day. I was raised calling this the fourth commandment, and it’s the one most people ignore. Luther’s Large (and Small) Catechism calls it the third commandment because Luther was essentially Catholic. Please note, I’m not numbering the Ten Commandments in this article because no one can agree on a numbering system. Part of the problem of posting the Ten Commandments anywhere is deciding which version you are going to use. The differences are fairly minor, involving graven images and do you call it the Sabbath or the Lord’s Day. I’m unbothered by differences in numbering because they weren’t numbered in the Bible. It only matters if you start posting them somewhere and you will end up offending someone who prefers the other version.

As a former Seventh Day Adventist, Sabbath-keeping was an important commandment growing up. You see, SDAs believe that the Sabbath is Saturday and some even believe that worshiping on Sunday is the mark of the beast. There’s a lot to unpack there whether you were raised SDA. I won’t touch that for now because I’m unprepared to write a takedown on bizarre readings of Daniel and Revelation right now.

If you are an Ex-Adventist like me, you may also rollick in the joy of Colossians 2:16: “Therefore, do not let anyone condemn you in matters of food or drink or of observing festivals, new moons, or Sabbaths.” Paul goes out of his way to not only take down the Ten Commandments, but specifically weekly Sabbaths. The early Christians very quickly started worshipping on Sundays because Jesus rose on a Sunday. N.T. Wright argues that these changes in beliefs and practice lend support as evidence of a resurrection experience and I tend to agree.

I’m open to arguments from Christians that the Christian Sabbath is now Sunday, so this commandment applies to Sunday now. I would still argue that Paul calls the old covenant the ministry of death. Further, very few Christians I know “keep the sabbath,” the first century way, sundown to sundown with no work of any kind, Sunday or otherwise. For those who are Sabbath-curious, Walter Brueggemann wrote a predictably luminescent book, “Sabbath as Resistance: Saying No to the Culture of Now,” that decouples the Sabbath from simple law-keeping and makes it about living into our God-given images through rest and reflection.

The most interesting element to all of this is that Paul felt he could just overturn something so fundamental as the Ten Commandments and the Sabbath. It’s hard for us in our technologically overworked culture to understand how radical this would be to first century Jews. Just as Jesus updated scripture, Paul felt like he could as well. This is all because the resurrection turned everything upside down and Paul’s religion needed some updating to account for this new revelation. Ponder what this means for us in our approach to the Bible and our faith. Our faith tradition is founded on the principle that we get to update our beliefs as the world evolves around us and those updates are guided by the Holy Spirit. Welcome to a brave, always-new faith.

Don’t Take God’s Name in Vain

There isn’t much your typical American will take offense at in the Ten Commandments. Most of us are on board with those principles. Murder bad. Even most atheists I know are uncomfortable taking God’s name in vain, and here lies the biggest rub.

Taking God’s name in vain is not simply about shouting expletives when you hammer your thumb, or when the Nuggets lose. Taking God’s name in vain refers to, “carrying a name,” kind of like an inscribed name. It can also mean to speak that name maybe as an oath. The idea is that to speak the name is to petition on behalf of or to the power of God, and that kind of thing should never be done imposturously or with malignant intentions. Don’t act inappropriately or offensively and pretend it’s done in God’s name. As Christians, we shouldn’t act deceptively or unlovingly in Christ’s name. So no, you shouldn’t use the name of our Lord as an expletive. But more importantly, you shouldn’t use the name of our Lord as a bludgeon against anyone, like say, posting the Ten Commandments in classrooms.

At best, posting the Ten Commandments is empty virtue signaling. We all agree on the moral code represented in the commandments, so posting them is philosophically redundant and only done to seem extra-Christian-y. At worst, confusing Christian nationalism with Christianity is the ultimate way to violate the commandment to not take God’s name in vain.

Reinforcing Harmful Boundary Markers

A lot of vain name-taking has less to do with promoting Christ and everything to do with reinforcing harmful boundaries around who gets to be in the in-group and who is in the out-group. Those of us in the in-groups like to keep these boundaries up because they reinforce our own power.

Not all students participate in a Judeo-Christian faith that would revere the Ten Commandments. And even if they are Christians, maybe they’re like me and still don’t think the Ten Commandments are applicable anymore considering Christ’s new covenant. The boundary being promoted here is not Christianity, but a particular flavor of Christianity. Unfortunately, that flavor is often – not always, but often – accompanied by nationalism, racism, bigotry against LGBTQ+ sisters and brothers and greed. Posting the Ten Commandments isn’t meant to somehow bring non-Christians into the Kingdom; it’s meant to reinforce feelings of unwelcome and exclusion.

Setting aside New Orleans, every Marsalis, Dr. John, Professor Longhair and Harry Connick, Jr., Louisiana probably sucks. I say this as someone who hasn’t spent time there and is woefully uninformed. I’m just basing my verdict on their choice of governor. But if Louisiana sucks so hard that you need a reminder not to murder, not to commit adultery and not to steal posted in your classrooms, then you can represent these values in ways that are inclusive to all students. These are universal ethics; you don’t need to wrap them up in Christian nationalism. You can create all kinds of programs that promote kindness, fairness and compassion. How about starting with free school lunches?

Pray for our nation.


Because I write these posts quite a bit in advance, I often need to come back and add information or make edits as things develop. One such development was a lawsuit brought against the Louisiana law. The lawsuit makes many great points and of course, there is precedent set by the Supreme Court against posting the Ten Commandments. But I wanted to share these words from a Christian pastor who is a plaintiff in the case:

“This display sends a message to my children and other students that people of some religious dominations are superior to others,” said the Rev. Jeff Simms, a Presbyterian pastor who is a plaintiff in the suit and father of three children in Louisiana public schools. “This is religious favoritism.”


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1 comment

  1. Don’t tell me you’re into covenantal theology now…

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