Repentance and righteousness in all of Scripture

By Dr. Jeff Mirus ( bio - articles - email ) | Dec 12, 2023

As originally written, the books which make up the Bible were not divided into chapters or numbered verses. Though various types of thematic division were introduced at a very early period, the now-standard practice of dividing the books into chapters did not arise until the thirteenth century, with the numbering of verses becoming widespread in the sixteenth. Today, following the most common systems, the Biblical books are typically divided into approximately 1,200 chapters, depending (I suppose) on which books are regarded as canonical.

These divisions are, of course, a great help when it comes to referencing Biblical texts. They are also helpful in the effort (and it is always something of an effort) to divide the text into coherent bite-sized sections which often contain what we might call entire episodes, so that we have reasonable starting and stopping points. This also assists us in using the text for daily spiritual reading. Thus, to read or reread the Bible over the course of a year requires a commitment to cover roughly three chapters a day—assuming one does not simply skip over things like the genealogies; the censuses of the tribes in ancient Israel; the finer points of the law; the enumeration of those who were ready for battle; the lists of those who performed various kinds of service; the specification of liturgical details; and the construction methods, architectural features and treasures of the Temple.

Some of the ups and downs of the kings in Israel and Judah (as recounted in the books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles), though of far greater human interest, can become dreary as well. Reading about the difference between those who were faithful to the Lord and those who pursued the false gods and immoral practices of the surrounding nations can quickly become either exasperating or discouraging. Despite some fascinating regal stories, this can be a bit too much like modern history—or even too much like our own lives in our own families—for any lasting comfort. And of course the penultimate result of all these ups and downs was exile.

Still, the ultimate result of everything recounted in the Old Testament was the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, so it pays to make the reading of the Old Testament part of our plan of prayer and meditation, even if we choose to skim over this chapter or that on any given day. One year I tried reading some of the Old Testament along with some of the New Testament each evening. Reading three to four chapters of the OT to every one of the NT enables one to finish both at about the same time. Unfortunately, however convenient numerically, this is an essentially haphazard approach, in which OT and NT texts seldom align in a particularly enlightening manner.

Regardless of methodological drawbacks, I’ve found that after we have been reading Scripture regularly for a time, we will in any case start making more and more of the connections that the Holy Spirit, in His infinite goodness, prompts us to see. As we continue to read and meditate, new things will jump out at us with a power that makes us wonder why we never noticed them before. Christ’s presence in Scripture not only enriches our souls; it sharpens our minds, making us more sensitive to God’s presence and God’s will.

Question: Has God always observed the difference between spirit and letter?

One thing that can trouble Christians about the Old Testament is the number of times people get severely punished for transgressing what we would consider merely ritual laws. A classic case of this arises in chapter 6 of the second book of Samuel. In Samuel’s time, the Ark of the Covenant had fallen into the hands of the Philistines for seven months, a capture which proved so terrifying and damaging to them that they felt they had no choice but to return it, which they did by rather unceremoniously dumping it at the house of a Jew named Abinadab.

Moreover, the Ark was so feared even by the Jews that it was left in the care of Abinadab and his sons for twenty more years, throughout the reign of Saul and into the reign of David. But David became convinced that the time was at last ripe to move the Ark of the Covenant from its temporary location to Jerusalem. Two sons of Abinadab, Uzzah and Ahio, had charge of driving a new cart which carried the Ark. This fateful journey is recounted in 2 Samuel 6:

And David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the Lord, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals. And when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah put out his hand to the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah, and God struck him down there because of his error, and he died there beside the ark of God. [2 Sam 6:5-7]

David was both angry and afraid because of this turn of events, and so he left the Ark in a nearby house for three more months before he finally brought it into the tent designated for it in Jerusalem (this was before the Temple was built by David’s son and successor, Solomon). But what is almost unbearably noticeable here is that God took Uzzah’s life because of his “error” in attempting to stabilize something so holy that he had no right to touch it.

In all such passages, of course, we must learn to discern the spirit that is signified by the letter of the text. We ought to understand that Uzzah’s action was motivated by a sort of proprietary attitude toward the Ark, which had resided with his family for a generation, and/or by an erroneous sense that the Ark could not take care of itself—that is, that the Ark would be protected first and foremost by God Himself. This, after all, was the very lesson that led the Philistines to abandon the Ark to the care of Uzzah’s father. Nonetheless, in this account, I can feel my own hand burning, and wonder at the judgment I have thus far escaped for what even Scripture refers to as an “error” rather than a “sin”. And truly, even perhaps with Jesus Christ Himself at our side, we ought to be well aware of at least our potential peril in the Presence of God.

Answer: Yes, God distinguishes the letter from the spirit throughout all of history.

There is much in the Old Testament texts to enkindle a highly meticulous fear of God, but its point is to be the beginning of Wisdom. In the Pentateuch and the prophetic books we find that terrible punishments can be meted out to those who display, whether willfully or inadvertently, a lack of reverence for the Lord. Of course, this is not a matter of strict differentiation between the Old and the New Covenants. In both we see precious examples of God’s mercy, testimonies to His wisdom, and trust in His protection and love—perhaps most especially in that marvelous Old Testament collection, the Psalms. Indeed, while all the books of the Old Testament are instructive, it is primarily from the Psalms that we learn how to pray and so develop our own relationship with the Lord.

Yet despite prophetic accounts of trust and forgiveness and liberation—and despite even the ease with which we can explain the human stupidity of such things as Jephthah’s sacrifice of his daughter to God because of a vow he made when going to battle against the Ammonites (cf. Judges 11-12)—we do retain the impression at times that the Old Testament is an unremitting testimony to judgment and condemnation and that we must look exclusively to the New Testament for forgiveness and mercy. Bearing all this in mind, it is particularly helpful to come across unexpected Old Testament texts which remind us that God the Father has exemplified from all eternity the manner in which His Christ would draw those lines.

One such discovery occurred for me about a week ago when rereading the second book of Chronicles. During the period of the divided kingdom between Israel and Judah, there is a long progression of Jewish kings in both places who hold God in contempt while encouraging the worship of false gods, including even human sacrifices in the “high places”. (Indeed, perhaps no book in Scripture is so calculated to remind us of our own socio-political-religious predicament today, in which many Catholics, perhaps most obviously politicians, displace God with idols.)

But it is in the account of the reign of Hezekiah, one of the spiritually great and faithful kings of Judah, that we find the most telling proof that God has always known the difference between the letter of the law and the disposition of the heart. For Hezekiah did his utmost to revive in the priests, Levites and all the people a proper spiritual worship of God. As a mark of this renewal, he encouraged all of Judah to come to celebrate the Passover in Jerusalem for the first time in a great many years. Thus did many stream into the holy city with a genuine spiritual hope in their hearts. Once they began, in fact, they found such joy that they even decided to continue the holy celebration not just for seven days but for fourteen.

And this was all done despite an obvious ritual obstacle:

[T]here were many in the assembly who had not sanctified themselves…. For a multitude of the people, many of them from Ephraim, Manasseh, Issachar, and Zebulun, had not cleansed themselves, yet they ate the Passover otherwise than as prescribed. For Hezekiah had prayed for them, saying, “The good LORD pardon every one who sets his heart to seek God, the LORD the God of his fathers, even though not according to the sanctuary’s rules of cleanness.” And the LORD heard Hezekiah, and healed the people…. So there was great joy in Jerusalem, for since the time of Solomon the son of David king of Israel there had been nothing like this in Jerusalem. Then the priests and the Levites arose and blessed the people, and their voice was heard, and their prayer came to his holy habitation in heaven. [2 Chr 30:18-27]

We must always recall these two warnings of Our Lord and Savior to the Pharisees: “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mt 9:13). “And if you had known what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the guiltless” (Mt 12:7-8). This is Jesus Christ quoting the Old Testament `prophet Hosea, who lived eight hundred years earlier: “For I desire mercy and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings” (Hos 6:6).

The spirit and the letter? Every Biblical book takes account of this difference in some way. It is one of the most important messages in both Testaments. The letter is designed to give us a thousand trigger points for repentance, until we learn at last that repentance must always precede righteousness. For only the first is truly our own. The second belongs to God.

Jeffrey Mirus holds a Ph.D. in intellectual history from Princeton University. A co-founder of Christendom College, he also pioneered Catholic Internet services. He is the founder of Trinity Communications and CatholicCulture.org. See full bio.

Sound Off! CatholicCulture.org supporters weigh in.

All comments are moderated. To lighten our editing burden, only current donors are allowed to Sound Off. If you are a current donor, log in to see the comment form; otherwise please support our work, and Sound Off!

  • Posted by: Jeff Mirus - Dec. 14, 2023 5:41 PM ET USA

    johnk64: Yes, this is puzzling, though I think we can understand it in the senses I mentioned. If it weren't for the sacred author terming this an "error", I suppose we would be free to think that God took Uzzah immediately to heaven as a reward for his solicitude. But, more reasonably, we may recall that only Levites were allowed to touch and care for the Ark of the Covenant, and we should assume that Levites in fact loaded it on the cart, just as they were the ones who carried it whenever Israel was on the march through the wilderness to the Promised Land. All the Jews at that time would (or should) have known that Uzzah's humanly instinctive reaction was a significant violation of the sacredness of the Ark. Remember, most Jews were afraid—and rightly so—to go near it. The very thought that the Ark needed human protection was a kind of blasphemy, given the history of the Exodus.

  • Posted by: johnk64 - Dec. 14, 2023 12:04 AM ET USA

    The death of Uzzah has always bothered me also. I don't really understand it. After all, didn't he have to touch the ark to get it onto the cart in the first place? And in our understanding of the requirements for mortal sin, deliberate consent is required, but Uzzah's action sounds like a spur of the moment reaction. I just don't understand it.