putting money where our mouth is
without using the mouth of an animal
“You shall not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.”
What in the world does that mean? It sounds like a pretty obscure prohibition.
The quote is from the book of Deuteronomy 25:4. It was a common practice in the ancient Middle East to fix such a constraint on an ox or other animal used for this type of labor. The animal might stop to eat some of the grain if hungry. The farmer would want to save the grain and/or keep the animal working. There are places where this practice persists.
The law of Moses was intended to prevent such cruel and petty behavior.
Aside from the concern for the animal’s welfare, is there a more fundamental principle at work here? Shouldn’t the ox receive the fruit of its labor? “Oxen of the world, unite! You have nothing to lose but your muzzles!” (Oops, wrong manifesto.)
Having dipped our toe into the water of animal rights, how does this apply to us humans?
The apostle Paul shares some thoughts. In 1 Corinthians 9:7–11 he says, “Who at any time pays the expenses for doing military service? Who plants a vineyard and does not eat any of its fruit? Or who tends a flock and does not get any of its milk? Do I say this on human authority? Does not the law also say the same?” He makes his appeal, transcending our mortal convictions.
He continues with the aforementioned instruction, “For it is written in the law of Moses, ‘You shall not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.’ Is it for oxen that God is concerned? Or does he not speak entirely for our sake? It was indeed written for our sake, for whoever plows should plow in hope and whoever threshes should thresh in hope of a share in the crop.”
I’m not sure the instruction was “entirely” for our benefit. Still, the point is made that all should profit from one’s own work. Paul then narrows the focus to him and his colleagues. He asks the church in Corinth, “If we have sown spiritual things among you, is it too much if we harvest material things?”
I will narrow it down even more to ministers installed in the Presbyterian Church. Among the questions directed to the congregation at such a service are “Do we promise to pay him/her fairly, and provide for his/her welfare as he/she works among us; to stand by him/her in trouble, and share his/her joy?” Pay fairly; provide for welfare; stand by in trouble; share joy.
Maybe Paul’s quote of Moses regarding those oxen should be tossed in! (Note: I am aware of ministers who rip off their congregations. I would suggest they are a tiny minority.)
Going from narrowing to broadening, those laboring oxen being rid of their muzzles speak to society at large.
And it speaks to me. I love including images with whatever I write. If I’m doing an internet search and come upon one that is just right — but come upon the © copyright — I will move on. However, sometimes I ask permission and promise to give proper credit and provide a link to the source. I might receive a yes; other times I’m asked to pay a usage fee. I don’t begrudge those instances. Artists, like anyone else, should be paid for their work.
If the oxen were being denied the fruit of their labor, at the same time they were being treated in a heartless fashion.
That aspect of oppression, even torture, infects our economy in a multitude of ways. How often do we ask ourselves how China is able to flood our nation, as well as the rest of the world, with dirt-cheap goods? How is it able to crank out mega-volumes of product? One explanation is the ruthless work environment found throughout the country. That keeps labor costs low and profit margins high.
Of course, China isn’t the only culprit. Our country isn’t exactly immune from such immoral practices.
What happens when we unmuzzle those oxen? We give each their fair share. To put it simply, we aren’t jerks. We treat all in a holy fashion. We incorporate the nature of Sabbath rest into our lives — and it applies both to us and to the animals (Exodus 20:8).
We behave as we truly are, created in the image of a loving, creative God.
