Identity Theft (1)

I am a stranger on the earth; do not hide Your commandments from me. Psalm 119:19 NASB

Stranger – The first thing to notice is the syntax.  גֵּ֣ר אָנֹכִ֣י בָאָ֑רֶץ  Literally: “stranger I am on earth.”  The personal identity word comes first, in the place of emphasis.  gēr ʾānōkî  “The root means to live among people who are not blood relatives; thus, rather than enjoying native civil rights, the gēr was dependent on the hospitality that played an important role in the ancient near east. When the people of Israel lived with their neighbors they were usually treated as protected citizens; foreigners in Israel were largely regarded as proselytes.”^[1]

A thousand years later, Peter said virtually the same thing: “To those who reside as strangers, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, who are chosen . . .” (1 Peter 1:1 NASB).  The Greek he used is parepídēmos, the equivalent of the Hebrew gēr.  Grundmann makes a comment with, I believe, an incorrect conclusion: “This rare term has the sense of ‘one who is (temporarily) a resident alien.’ It occurs in the NT in 1 Pet. 1:1; 2:11: Christians are only temporary residents on earth and must not let their lives be shaped by its interests.”^[2]  Remarks like this lead to the mistaken assumption that we are “just passing through,” as if our lives here are only a preamble to the real life in the next world.  The Christian Church might believe this, and perhaps the Hellenized rabbis of the first century and certain contemporary Jewish orthodox, but I doubt it was part of the psalmist’s concern.  When Rabbi Shraga Freedman writes, “for a Jewish person, Olam Hazeh is merely a transient stop on the way to his ultimate destination,”[3]he endorses the same “other-worldly” orientation, removing any real obligation to restoring the Kingdom here.  But life in the Tanach is life here, no matter how strange or difficult.

Despite the fact that both gēr and parepídēmos can mean “sojourner,” the psalmist is not looking for an escape route.  He’s identifying himself as a person disconnected.  He might experience the hospitality of the community but he knows that ultimately he’s a guest, not an owner, and alien, not a citizen.  We must keep this in mind: “Alien, sojourner, stranger, referring to someone who did not enjoy the rights usually possessed by the resident. The clearest sense of the noun gēr is seen when used of Israel in their sojourn in Egypt (Ex 23:9; Gen 15:13).”^[4]

The psalmist asks us to recognize two elements of this word.  The first is the obvious one.  Aliens are not entitled residents.  We reside is a world that isn’t really ours.  It belongs to the householder, God.  We may enjoy His hospitality here, but that means we need to honor His rules.  Violation of His hospitality has consequences.

The second element is less obvious but perhaps even more important.  It is the emotional disconnection we feel in a world that is at odds with its owner.  It’s the experience of the tragic disruption between God’s intention and Man’s rebellion. We all feel it.  Something about this place is just wrong.  We long for the earth to be a real home, a peaceful sanctuary under God’s command.  But it isn’t.  It’s a mess, and because it is a mess, we are all the more aware that we don’t fit in.  It’s not that we’re simply temporary occupants (sojourners).  It’s rather that there is a substantial, existential, perhaps ontological divide between what ought to be and what is—and we feel it right down to the bottom of our hearts.  We live in the swampland of the soul, even if we desperately try not to.

Part of the reason for this tragic uncomfortableness is the fact that God hides Himself, as we shall see.

Topical Index:  gēr ʾānōkî, sojourner, stranger, alien, Psalm 119:19

^[1] Stigers, H. G. (1999). 330 גּוּר. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 155). Moody Press.

^[2] Kittel, G., Friedrich, G., & Bromiley, G. W. (1985). In Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Abridged in One Volume (p. 149). W.B. Eerdmans.

[3] Rabbi Shraga Freedman, Living Kiddush Hashem, p. 76.

^[4] Stigers, op. cit.