How easy it is to forget, to lay aside, to leave undone that which we need to do. How easy it is to forget the gift giver after we have received and settled in the gift. The book of Deuteronomy continually reminds Israel that the covenant Lord is the gracious gift giver. It is He who has given the cattle, the sheep, the rain and the harvest, and “great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant—and when you eat and are full” (Deut. 6:10-11).

These last ten days, since my total knee replacement, I have been given the time to reflect and marvel at the gifts in my life. The gift of a new knee. The gift of family and friends. And most importantly of all, the gift of new life and relationship with Messiah Yeshua/Jesus. These days have been a time to remember, and not forget all the gracious gifts of the Lord. How, then, do we actively remember His grace in our busy lives? We give.

In this week’s Torah portion called כִּי־תָבוֹא/Ki Tavo, “When you come in…” the Lord reminds us to remember Him in the midst of our blessedness. The reasons for this are many, and the end results of forgetting the Lord are obvious. When we remember, and not forget, the gifts are more meaningful, and the impact on the lives of others, much more profound. We read:

“When you have finished paying all the tithe of your produce in the third year, which is the year of tithing, giving it to the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow, so that they may eat within your towns and be filled, then you shall say before the Lord your God, ‘I have removed the sacred portion out of my house, and moreover, I have given it to the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow, according to all your commandment that you have commanded me. I have not transgressed any of your commandments, nor have I forgotten them” (Deut. 26:12-13).

I have not forgotten. I have not forgotten to “blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven; you shall not forget” (Deut. 25:19). In my time of fruitfulness, I will not forget to blot out the memory of the wicked Amalek who attacked the weak and vulnerable. I will not allow my blessing to produce blinders. I will remember and not forget (Deut. 26:13).

It is an unusual pronouncement in Deuteronomy 26:13-15. Standing with a basket of first-fruits, as evidence of the bountiful blessing, to proclaim that you have acted kindly in blessing and not poorly. You have alleviated the pain of the weak, and not contributed to it by negligent affluence. The message is clear. The message is simple. The gift of blessing can become a snare when not handled faithfully. When we forget the gracious Benefactor, the thankful heart of the beneficiary can be hardened to His grace, ultimately leading us astray, and leaving open a door for Amalek.  

Why is this important? Sharing the blessing from the covenant Lord, even when statutory, reminds us of our own need. It reminds us of our own fragility. It turns our attention to legacy. The legacy we are joined to, as well as the legacy we join in. We join in His legacy when we give beyond ourselves. When we can say: וְלֹא שָׁכָחְתִּי, “nor have I forgotten.” What are we saying? I have not “lost, left, laid aside or left undone Your instruction to reach out my hand, as You have reached out Yours,” as you say O Lord, “And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house, you, and the Levite, and the sojourner who is among you” (Deut. 26:11).

The apostle Peter exhorts us, “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Pet. 2:11). We are but strangers and sojourners upon this earth, and the blessings of the Lord, glorious as they are, are temporary. What is eternal is what is given unto Him, especially when deposited into the life of the weak.

Paul reminds the disciple of Messiah, “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor. 9:7). Paul speaks of a willingness or eagerness to give and to be part of the Kingdom of God, echoing “And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you…”

The Lord is making a radical point that we all continue to learn. Vertical gratitude unto the Lord always leads to horizontal sharing of life and blessing with others. Why? We first recognize from whom the good flows. As the apostle James writes, “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (Jas. 1:17), inspiring the doxology: “Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.”

When we assume our blessing is self-derived, single-handedly earned, we will forget both the Lord and the community. When I consider my recovery from surgery, the success is not from my strength, but joined with the hands of the medical team and my recovery team: my mother, aunt, and wife. I did not knit this body together; it was knit in my mother’s womb by the Lord and nurtured by the precious souls who have invested their blessing into my life. This should not produce arrogance, but a humble appearance before the Father in heaven, bearing a single basket of fruit, and a heart that says, “I have not forgotten.”

Paul memorialized the words of Yeshua that were not recorded in the Gospels, as he said, “In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive’” (Acts 20:35).

Maranatha. Shalom. 

So much of the Torah portion called כִּי־תֵצֵא/Ki Tetze, “when you go out,” offers instruction to combat cruelty to both humans and animals. Most of these commands are a radical departure from the accepted practices of the surrounding people groups. From returning lost sheep, to protecting the bird’s nest, to not muzzling an ox treading out grain, the Lord causes us to consider carefully the least so that we do not disregard the human other.

Yet, the most radical command in this week’s portion, perhaps in the entire Torah itself, could be easily overlooked. In Deuteronomy 23:15-16 Moses writes, “You shall not give up to his master a slavewho has escaped from his master to you. He shall dwell with you, in your midst, in the place that he shall choose within one of your towns, wherever it suits him. You shall not wrong him.”

There is a phrase included in these verses that should be familiar: “in the place that he shall choose.” This phrase appears some eighteen times in the Torah, seventeen of these instances refer to the place where the Lord would choose to make His name dwell (Deut. 12:11 as an example), the other references the runaway slave. Furthermore, Moses says that the runaway slave shall “dwell with you, in your midst,” just as the Lord says He will dwell in the midst of His people.

There are many instances in the Torah when the Lord desires to draw a parallel between two seemingly dissimilar subjects to emphasize a greater ethical and theological point. The Lord, the King of His people, will choose where He will dwell. The sovereign Lord then gives the runaway slave the same right, a right the native born were not given. The Lord will dwell in the midst of His people. The runaway will not be in a type of exile in Israel, he will be part of the community. The similarity is impossible to miss, adding to the theological significance and power of this command.

It was the practice among civilizations in the ancient near east to return runaway slaves. Israel was the exception. Why? Israel was a nation of freed slaves. The Promised Land would be a sanctuary land, just as the City of Refuge would provide sanctuary for those suspected of manslaughter in the land. What this illustrates profoundly is the change of status of the one seeking refuge. The runaway slave may indeed be a fugitive from their owner, but in Israel they received a new status: free man. This freed status was secured and protected by the Lord.  

Yet, the Lord knows the hearts of men. Not only shall you “not give up to his master a slavewho has escaped from his master to you,” but you shall “not wrong him,” meaning to oppress him by enslaving him yourself. He is now your neighbor, even if he is a stranger, and you shall love him as yourself because you were strangers in Egypt (Lev. 19:18, 34). Israel was not to be a society where the strong exploited the weak. The runaway slave was made in the image and likeness of the Living God; therefore he would be shown the same dignity, respect and love as the native born.

How great is the immeasurable grace of the Lord?

In Psalm 91:4 we read, “He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.” Those who seek refuge in the Lord, even the runaway, find covering and protection. Is this deserved? No, it is the grace of God working in our lives. Regardless of our situation in life, when we seek Him we will find home.

Messiah Yeshua/Jesus invites us: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).

Paul, speaking to the liberated in Christ wrote: “Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord.And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit” (Eph. 2:19-22).

In Messiah we become the place where He makes His name dwell (Rev. 22:4). We are provided a place prepared for us in His Kingdom by the risen Lord Himself (Jn. 14:1-4). Whatever our status or condition in life was, when we flee to Messiah, our status changes, or condition changes, and the old master, that serpent of old, has no right of ownership. The slave master called sin caused us to stray, but in Christ, Peter assures us: “For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls” (1 Pet. 2:25).

Maranatha. Shalom.