Can you guess what one of the very last things is that Moses does before he dies? Here’s the setting: Forty years ago, the Israelites had been brought to the very brink of the Promised Land, but they got cold feet and refused to trust God and go in. They’re sent to wander in the wilderness for forty years, and the next generation is finally brought back to the same spot where their parents stood back then to give this another shot. 

Moses walks them through the covenant agreement that God had made with their parent’s generation (that’s Deuteronomy). His point is to make sure they understand that this covenant wasn’t just for their parents, it is also for them. Even though they weren’t there or were too young to remember what happened at Mount Sinai, they are bound to this agreement as well. Now, here they are, they’ve taken up the covenant, and it’s time to cross over into the Promised Land and claim it. 

But Moses won’t be going with them. Joshua has been appointed to make the transition into this new life. Moses has a few last things to wrap up before he climbs a mountain and dies. He does two things before dying, and I was surprised to see what they are. Can you guess? 

The very last thing he does is pronounce blessings over the people tribe by tribe. But the second to last thing he does really surprises me: He teaches the people a song. Imagine if you were about to die, and you’d gathered all your family around you. Then you say, “Ok, somebody get out a notepad and write down these lyrics. It’s critical that you memorize this song I just wrote for you.” 

Isn’t that interesting? As a songwriter myself, I perked up when I read that this is basically what Moses does. What’s this about?  

First of all, songs and stories have long been among the ways that cultures preserve a sort of social imaginal fabric. Songs, liturgies, festivals, traditions – these are things that humans from time immemorial have made as containers to hold their social self-understanding. When we forget who we are or what we’re about, we revisit the songs and stories of our people. Think of the book of Psalms, and the Bible, in general. It is a richly crafted record that preserves for us the truth about us, according to God, and in large part it is in poetry, lyric, and story form.  

So Moses is writing a song for this people to help them preserve an understanding of themselves. And it may be that this song will unfold its meaning more and more as the generations unfold. Songs often do that, because the best art always means more than the artist him or herself could possibly have consciously meant for it to mean. The truer the artwork, the more naturally and deeply prophetic it will tend to be, whether the artist knows it or not. Very occasionally, I’ve experienced myself that a song I wrote will confront me with meanings I had not intended or foreseen. 

That the one of the very last things a major shepherd of God’s people like Moses would do before he dies is write a song, is wonderful to me. However, the song itself is no pep-rally cheer. It’s actually quite sobering. It’s more of a warning song, really. There’s quite a lot in it about punishment of those who reject God, even when it’s his own people. On the other hand, by the end of the song, God is fighting on behalf of those who have sought his face, he’s redeeming, and atoning the land and his people. He even calls for the nations (those who are not his people) to rejoice with his people. 

As a side note: Paul quotes this last song of Moses several times in the last part of his book to the Romans, as he is talking about salvation being offered to the whole world and not just the Jews.  

What struck me this morning as I was reading the song itself, is something that is very hard to talk about. This is a song to help this people understand themselves as God’s people, and it’s also a song of warning to those among them who don’t take that call seriously. I’m not going to lie, this is one of those places folks might point to and say, “See, the God of the Old Testament is so mean. How can you possibly reconcile that with the loving Jesus in the New Testament?”  

What is going on here? Is there a problem? How can we better understand the position God is in as he works to save the world from the onslaught of death? Because those are the stakes, and the stakes are high beyond our ability to imagine. That may be part of why God’s sternness feels a little over the top – because we’re like a kid stooping to pick up a penny on the asphalt and we don’t see the speeding bus heading our way. Meanwhile, our feelings are hurt by the red-faced guy on the corner screaming at us. Why’s he yelling at us? It’s just a penny. What’s the big deal? 

There’s a certain hilarious meme with pictures of screaming toddlers with text describing the things about which they are throwing a fit. In every one of the photos, the parent has prevented them from either doing something impossible like holding the moon, or something dangerous like playing with the kitchen knife. It’s funny because we can relate, and it’s relatable because it’s true. We still find ourselves surprised to be hurt by something we thought we wanted so badly. I hope I’m not the only one who experiences that almost daily. 

Something is going on in this world that is so incredibly important to our well-being that it’s worth God getting really mad about. Because, as Henry Cloud and modern psychology, in general have pointed out: if you want to know what really matters to someone, pay attention to what makes them angry. If they blow their top because you spilled mustard on their shirt, they may love their appearance more than they love you. If they’re ready to punch somebody because they insulted you, maybe they love you more than they love their own bodily comfort or safety. That leads us to follow the line through anger to suffering, then. If someone is willing to disregard their own safety and comfort for your benefit, righteous anger and willingness to suffer may be related, they may be on a continuum.  

If that’s the case, then the God whose wrath flares up when his people shirk their responsibility as collaborators in the redemption of the world in the Old Testament, is the same God who completely disregards his own comfort and safety when it comes to the fulfillment of that same work of redemption in the New Testament. 

In other words, anger over a threat against a loved one and an almost crazy willingness to suffer for a loved one, are two sides of the same coin. Our God loves us enough to get angry in our defense, and he loves us enough to face our enemies and lay down his life for us. And so, in the tradition of Moses, Rich Mullins can sing (without a hint of sarcasm) of the “reckless, raging fury that they call the love of God.”