RELIGIONS are among the longest-lasting of all human phenomena. They can withstand exile, war, technology, and time: but only if they are able to rethink, repackage, renew their essence. All these readings contain such a rethink. It is clearest in the psalm, when what began as a celebration of the sun becomes a revelation: the light of the sun stands for the wisdom of Torah, the Law. The great Baptist preacher Spurgeon (who believed that David was the psalm’s author) spoke beautifully of that message. “The psalmist devoted himself to the study of God’s two great books — nature and Scripture.”

The delivery of the Ten Commandments (or Decalogue) also marks a shift. Between exile and homecoming, God tells Moses that the people need to be prepared, indeed consecrated, for what is about to be given to them. We might not think that a list of “dos” and “don’ts” is much of a gift. But the wonder of it is in the simple clarity. There may have been 613 commandments in total, but here is their distillation for God’s people; when we seek guidance on how to live in accordance with God’s will, such rules are wonderfully welcome.

There is another version of the Decalogue in Deuteronomy 5, and comparison of the two versions shows that (despite variants) the content of the message is remarkably stable: this is how one generation should entrust faith to the next. Some of the commandments may be flexible, according to context. “Do not make graven images” might ban artistic representation, or it might be a warning not to confuse images with reality. Others cannot be. There is nothing ambiguous about Exodus 20.12-17, unless one takes refuge in that last resort of essay-writers, “it depends what you mean by adultery [etc].” Only one of the ten has no “not” in it — to honour one’s father and mother — and it is also the only one of the ten to carry with it a blessing, “that your days may be long”.

One purpose of the Decalogue is to make the people righteous. But it is also there, Paul explains, so that they have no excuse when they do transgress. His indictment in Romans 2.17-24, directed at Jews, can nowadays apply equally well to Christians: who among us can honestly claim that they didn’t know that they should love their neighbour as themselves, when failing in that duty?

In 1 Corinthians, Paul doesn’t equate wisdom with Torah, but he does see an affinity between those two patterns for human behaviour. The danger for Christians is not just that they will fall into judgementalism by reformulating the old Law in Christian terms (based perhaps on behavioural codes in the letters to Timothy and Titus). It is that they will claim to be righteous merely because they have acknowledged Christ and the Cross. This is the mind-set of the Pharisees whom John the Baptist criticised (Matthew 3.9), or the people Jesus debated with. “If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing what Abraham did” (John 8.39).

It is shameful how often Christians condemn a form of Jewish legalism which actual Jewish people would see as a gross parody of their faith. Christians may boast of having the life-giving spirit, not the freedom-killing letter, of God’s Law — following Christ, directed by nothing but personal conscience. Although Paul seems to go along with race-based generalisations about Jews and Greeks, he then surprises us with a rethink of his own: racial background is now irrelevant. All that matters is following Christ crucified.

The last of these gear changes comes in the Gospel. It contains puzzles for those who like geography and history: it is disputed whether Jesus went to Jerusalem once (the Synoptics) or repeatedly (John); at the beginning of his ministry (John) or at the end (the Synoptics). We can ask whether he cleansed the Temple once, or twice. His actions in the Temple seem fine on the page, but a little meditation reveals how uncomfortable they are: violent, dismissive, condemning a whole class of people (who put bread on the table when the money-changers went home that night?).

What they embody is a prophetic sign-action, Old Testament-style. Its message is so vital that even good manners give way before it. Whatever else it may be, our relationship with God is not a financial transaction.