Deuteronomy 7:6–12

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

We hear from the book of Deuteronomy, chapter 7, the verses 6–12.

6 For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession.
7 The Lord did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples.
8 But it was because the Lord loved you and kept the oath he swore to your ancestors that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt.
9 Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments.
10 But those who hate him he will repay to their face by destruction; he will not be slow to repay to their face those who hate him.
11 Therefore, take care to follow the commands, decrees and laws I give you today.
12 If you pay attention to these laws and are careful to follow them, then the Lord your God will keep his covenant of love with you, as he swore to your ancestors.

Let us pray

The story of God with his people is, at its core, a love story. A story not of power or performance, not of greatness or numbers, but of grace and faithfulness, of covenant and calling.

Our reading from Deuteronomy 7:6–12 brings us into Moses’ final speech to Israel, just before they enter the Promised Land. It’s a moment of reflection. He reminds them—and us—who they are, why they are chosen, and how they are to live.

“For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession.”

And then comes the striking clarification:

“The Lord did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous... for you were the fewest... but because the Lord loved you and kept the oath he swore to your ancestors.”

God’s election of Israel is not about advantage or merit. It is about love.

And here we are reminded of Erich Fried’s German poem.  I translate into English:

“It is nonsense, says reason.
It is what it is, says love.
It is misfortune, says calculation.
It is nothing but pain, says fear.
It is hopeless, says insight.
It is what it is, says love.”

It is what it is, says love.”  God falls in love with a small, insignificant people. A people on the margins. A people with no power. Why? Because love doesn’t need a reason. It is what it is.

That’s not always flattering for Israel—or for us. We might prefer to be loved becausewe are good, successful, faithful. But God’s love is not a reward. It’s a gift.

And He seals this love with a covenant, a vow.   God chooses His people, binds Himself to them, and promises to be faithful. Later in this chapter we read: “He will love you and bless you.” It sounds almost like a wedding blessing. God takes Israel as His beloved partner. He commits Himself—knowing full well that this will be a difficult relationship.

History shows us how complicated this covenant love becomes. God’s people often turn away, forget, rebel. And God—like a wounded lover—is sometimes angry, jealous, heartbroken.

God’s love has a cost.

Deuteronomy speaks of judgment too: God repays “those who hate him to their face.” The language is harsh. It reflects the legal world of ancient covenants—filled with threats to ensure loyalty. “Take this seriously!” is the message.

And yet, God’s covenant is always rooted in mercy:

“He is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him.”

This is the God of steadfast love. A God who remains committed. Who disciplines, yes, but never gives up. A God whose “no” is still part of His “yes.” Even judgment, in the biblical tradition, aims toward reconciliation and restoration.

We all see the visions of violence, hatred and death in Israel, Gaza and Palestine these days.  It would not be right to hold this sermon today, without addressing certain aspects of this, amongst other things the concept of being chosen.

Because this idea of being chosen is so central, so powerful, and so beautiful, it has also been deeply misunderstood—in the past and in the present.

God’s election was never intended as a badge of superiority. It is a call to service, humility, and witness. But so often, chosenness has been twisted into a theological justification for power, exclusion, or even violence.

We see this distortion tragically play out in the conflict between Israel and Palestine today, especially in Gaza. Some political actors, including religious fundamentalists, invoke the Bible and the concept of being “God’s chosen” to justify land claims, settlement expansion, and military force—often at great human cost.

But biblical chosenness was never a divine land deed. It was a responsibility to care, to practice justice, to be a light to the nations. The prophets continually warned Israel when it used its special status for self-interest rather than service.

God’s covenant is not a license for domination. It is a calling to compassion.

We must clear: to stand with Israel, in the biblical sense, means to stand with its prophetic vocation—to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8). And to stand with the Palestinian people is to stand for their dignity, rights, and hope for a peaceful life. Every life, Israeli or Palestinian, is precious in the sight of God.

In times of war and destruction, when bombs fall and children die, when hatred is preached and fear hardens hearts, we are called to remember the greater vision of Scripture: that all peoples are made in God's image. That through Abraham, “all families of the earth shall be blessed.”

Chosenness, rightly understood, is not a wall of separation, but a window of hope. And when that window becomes a mirror reflecting only our own interests, we lose sight of the One who called us.

What about us as Christians as the chosen people of God?

As Christians, we don’t replace Israel as God’s chosen people. The Bible is very clear on that. We are grafted into the story. Through Christ, we are drawn into the covenant of love.

At Jesus’ baptism, the voice from heaven declares:

“You are my beloved Son.”

And in our own baptism, we too are addressed as beloved children of God.

The New Testament picks up the language from Deuteronomy and applies it to the church:

“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation...” (1 Peter 2:9)

We don’t deserve it. But God has chosen us—not for privilege, but for purpose.

Martin Luther emphasized this when he wrote:

“Whoever crawls out of the waters of baptism can boast that they are already consecrated priest, bishop, and pope.”( 1520 treatise "To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation" (An den christlichen Adel deutscher Nation).

That’s not about titles. It’s about calling. We are all called to be intercessors—to pray and work for this world. To live out God’s love. To proclaim His light.

So what do we take from this passage today?

• You are chosen through Christ. Not because of merit, but because of love.
• You are loved. With a covenant love that endures.
• You are called. To live in faithful response—to be a blessing in this world.
• And you are responsible. Not to misuse chosenness, but to embody it with humility and justice.

May we be people who remember:

“It is what it is,” says Love.

And may we reflect that love—in prayer, in witness, in action—for the sake of all God’s children.

Amen.

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.