THE SIX FUNCTIONS OF GOD’S LAW
Understanding the Six Functions of God’s Law
by Traver Dougherty
Function 4: To Exalt Jesus as Firstfruit
The Torah doesn’t stop at establishing the Kingdom’s narrative; it establishes Jesus as the firstfruit of that narrative. There was a time in my life when I couldn’t have cared less about The Hague, the Mauritshuis, or Vermeer’s Girl. The same was true of the Torah. In both instances, I had a maturity and capacity problem. In short, I couldn’t see the relevance of either. In time, however, that changed. The Girl became relevant when I realized that art, when done well, imbues the human experience with depth and wonder. The Torah became relevant when I realized that the Law, when correctly understood and observed, not only infuses the human experience with the deepest of meaning, it defines and exalts Jesus. What’s more, it provides a roadmap for Christian living, one that allows God’s people to walk in the narrative of Jesus’s kingdom and proclaim its gospel.
Extending the Metaphor
For illustrative purposes, suppose I’ve come into some unexpected money and decide to vacation in The Hague for a solitary purpose — to study the Girl. Every day, I keep the same schedule. Wake up at six — at the coffeehouse by seven. As I walk into the coffeehouse, I first spot a table, then lay down copies of Arthur Wheelock’s Johannes Vermeer and Mariët Westermann’s A Worldly Art. On top of the books, I set my phone. Then, I get in line. Next, a nice lady takes my order. From there, the nice lady warms my breakfast wrap, pulls my espresso, then delivers the items to my table.
For the next hour, I read — about the exhibit, verisimilitude, Dutch ideologies, and Vermeer’s world. At nine, I pack up, drop off my books at the hotel, then head to the Mauritshuis. From ten to noon, I view only one painting—the Girl — studying every stroke, contemplating every why. I eat lunch, break for an hour, then return to the museum to peruse the collection — the Rembrandts, the Frans Hals, the Jan Steens. An hour before closing, I then sit with the Girl, once more, while journaling about the day’s experience.
For next several days, I repeat the process. Wake up. Order from the same nice lady at the coffee shop. Read. Museum. It’s fabulous — but not as fabulous as it could have been. If I had only known.
With each passing day, I make several unintended discoveries. I notice, for example, that Vermeer avoids hard lines, relying instead on shades and shadow. On another day, for an instant, I notice in the background what I think is indigo and weld. And then I think, You’ve stared too long — the mind’s playing tricks.
Nothing, however, could have prepared me for the discovery I’d make on the seventh day. For the past six days, I had kept a tight schedule. Up at six. Coffeehouse by seven. Set my books down. Then order — from the same nice lady. She warms my breakfast wrap, pulls my espresso, then arrives at my table. But this time, she comments on my books, “I see you’re reading Wheelock and Westermann. I love Vermeer’s work.” She then looks at me as if to say notice me. As she begins to walk away she tilts her head, just so, to the left. Beneath her left ear is a dazzling pearl. My Lord and my God, Your Subject is right in front of me! Six days. How did I not see!?
This is a metaphor. The intent is to convey a concept, not to suggest Yeshua is female. For me, the imagery is particularly meaningful; therefore, I’ve decided to leave the metaphor as-is.
For years, I patronized another museum of sorts — a seminary. Like clockwork, I set aside my morning hours to mine the Scriptures, usually at a local coffeehouse. I’d walk in, spot a table, then lay down my Bible and books. On top of the books, I’d set my phone. I’d then order, wait for my items, then Feng shui my books and coffee. For the next hour, I’d read — about theologies, philosophies, the Torah, and lots of Jesus. And here’s what I notice. While the Torah’s treatment of defiling skin diseases is intriguing, its import is somehow lost on me. When Jesus heals a man of leprosy, however, I’m awestruck.
Then one day, I see it — the pearl, but in a reverse sort of way. Jesus said to the Jewish sages, “For if you believed Moses, you would believe Me, for he wrote about Me” (Jn 5:46). The Jewish people, then and now, knew (and know) their way around the Mauritshuis. And of the Girl, they’re altogether familiar with the ochres, the lapis lazuli, the bone black, and the lead white. With the Barista, however, they are not. I, on the other hand, knew the Barista, but knew nothing of the painting that depicted her as subject. Knowing the Subject is incredible. Knowing the Subject amid a life immersed in the brushstrokes and hue choices of a Master Painter, even more so — for a life directed by YHWH’s Torah not only immerses people into the Kingdom’s narrative, it established Jesus as lead actor.