Jubilee: We Need A Year of Release
Photo by Jackson Simmer on Unsplash
It is my experience that with every crisis, care rises. Certainly this is a moment where instead of asking why jubilee or “A Year of Release” is necessary, we need to ask… why not now?
Deuteronomy 15:1-7, 11
Every seventh year you shall grant a remission of debts. And this is the manner of the remission: every creditor shall remit the claim that is held against a neighbor, not exacting it of a neighbor who is a member of the community, because the Lord’s remission has been proclaimed. Of a foreigner you may exact it, but you must remit your claim on whatever any member of your community owes you. There will, however, be no one in need among you, because the Lord is sure to bless you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a possession to occupy, if only you will obey the Lord your God by diligently observing this entire commandment that I command you today. When the Lord your God has blessed you, as he promised you, you will lend to many nations, but you will not borrow; you will rule over many nations, but they will not rule over you. If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor… Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, “Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.
The text found in Deuteronomy 15 pertains to laws detailing the so-called “Year of Release” or “Year of Jubilee”. These scriptures, juxtaposed with our current context of cascading crises, shifting of funding away from social services, pandemic, and ongoing economic uncertainty due to unemployment and the stock market, provide the reader with an important reminder. This reminder clearly shows both God’s concern for the poor and for the recreation of economic systems to level the field.
In this way, God points to both identity and practice. Deuteronomy 15: 1-11 is best understood as a reminder of Israel’s history, of their essential identity as former slaves rescued by the hand of God, while also calling to mind their covenant(s) with God and the promise to be about the work of releasing others from debt. This practice created a way of being with and for one another which did not include debt as a function of either the community or larger economy. Such an interpretive lens gives me hope! In particular, it fosters philanthropic imagination for contemporary readers reflecting on consumer debt and predatory economic practices.
Deuteronomy consists of messages communicated to the people of God by Moses and the law. Recent theories hold that Moses authored large portions of this book while other chapters were the result of oral narrative captured and finalized around the time of the Babylonian Exile. This inclusion of collectively held stories points to a formative narrative shared orally prior to it becoming written scripture.
The book itself records the last weeks of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness. Its name, Deuteronomy, essentially states only part of the intent of the book. Greek translators in 17:18 translated “a copy of this law” by “this second law-giving book” or Dueteromium. However, the full intent, as demonstrated by the first eleven chapters in addition to the Deuteronomic code (found in chapters 12-26) is the establishing of covenant between Israel and Yahweh both through a series of communications from Moses and the prescribed law. The fullness of the desired intent provides a more expansive understanding of the text beyond a list of rules for living in community, but rather for being in covenantal relationship with God.
When reading Deuteronomy 15:1-11, one might rightly ask the question “to whom was this commandment directed and for what purpose?” How one answers these questions dramatically shapes the interpretation of the passage. Brueggemann notes the focus of interest is on the needy, found in verses 4, 7, 8, and 11. In the context of Deuteronomy, it’s important to note that the concept of forgiveness was primarily an economic matter, principally about release from debts, before it became part of a Christocentric theology.
This commandment is part of the establishing of a new people, with a new identity apart from the economy of Pharaoh and the collective identity of a people enslaved. The creation of a new identity required defining cultural practices. Yet, if they were to be a just people, economic matters must yield to social reality. Thus, when asking who this passage was for and for what purpose, social reality is that if the needy are kept in debt, they cannot be viable neighbors within an equitable system.
How the community would define itself, both in narrative and in practice, is reflected in this passage. The core law is a simple, defining recognition that debt would not have an ultimate role to play in the economy or in creating community practices. More so, in Deuteronomy, this practice of release shows that the collective people of Israel had regular controls in the management of debt so that it would not come to define their community. It places the needy at the center of the identity without centralizing debt as part of the economy.
The year of release, while being the year in which all creditors released what had been lent to neighbors, indentured servants were set free, and the system sought to ensure the poor were cared for, was also a regular reminder of collective identity. The practices were part of the provision that God promises, however there is also the reminder of who they once had been; “You shall remember you were once a slave in the land of Egypt and the Lord, your God, redeemed you, therefore I command you today.” (15:15) This year of release is both the marking of the provision of the past and present, but a reminder to future generations of God’s redeeming work.
Every seven years, Israel was to be reminded that they had been once enslaved, but were now a new, emancipated people. If this context held the concept of forgiveness not as a theological frame, but an economic one, the Year of Release also then served as a powerful reminder of the community’s interdependence for the work of forgiveness. Within the commandment of Deuteronomy 15, there was no way to be right with God, if a neighbor was oppressed. There’s no way fulfillment of what God requires if debts existed in society. If the resetting of economic systems were to be just, it required a practice which could not be leveraged by the wealthy. Instead, with the provision of release, debtors are reminded not to be “hard hearted or tight-fisted.” This language reflects the same language used to describe Pharaoh's heart when considering the Israelites’ freedom. This use of an allusion serves not only as a reminder of identity, but as a call to action. It required those holding debt to see their own emancipation in the practice of releasing others.
The struggle between rich and poor has formed the basis of revolutions throughout history. The last 5000 years have shown a remarkable cycle of popular insurrections rising by those seeking release of debt with ritual destruction of the debt records: tablets, papyri, ledgers, all revolutionary movements had a common goal: cancel debts, burn the records, and redistribute the land. In this narrative of emancipation, readers can find a ready modern application. In current culture we live with narratives, individually and communally, that bear the weight of student debt, predatory lending, and generational poverty. We see lives monetized by their productivity and worth determined by so-called self-sufficiency.
In the wake of crisis after crisis from the last few years, many are calling for faith communities to be places of philanthropic imagination that, as a product of that imagination, foster a reordering of systems of injustice. Over the past years, we have seen notable stories of debt cancellation that live into the alternative economy set in Deuteronomy. Stories like in St. Bede’s Episcopal Church in New Mexico who in 2021, by setting aside 10% of its operating budget in 2020, was able to pay off medical debt for all of New Mexico as well as a few counties in Arizona, a total of $1.4 million in debt.
The Church living into its call to economic justice can lead the way both by diminishing its own economic power to pay off debts and finance reform, but also to advocate for an end to predatory practices. Historically, the Church in the United States has received the largest percentage of charitable dollars among nonprofits. Decentering its own institutional survival as priority, the Church can provide prophetic witness in this moment to use its own resources both to level the field and advocate for economic reform.
Deuteronomy 15: 1-11, which outlines the so-called “Year of Release” reminded the Israelites, in the last weeks of wandering in the desert of their history of emancipation while also calling to mind their covenant(s) with God.
By establishing a new identity and new relationship, a new community would be formed that did not place debt as a function of the economy. Instead, it demonstrated the interconnectedness of the work of forgiveness as a community practice.
As we reflect on matters of money and all the current narratives, the “Year of Release” provides an alternative model of being with and for one another that catalyzes philanthropic imagination.
