Thousands of years ago, Moses, nemesis of Egypt’s Pharaoh, liberator of the Israelites and long-suffering tour guide, asked his followers (on God’s behalf) to obey 10 basic rules of conduct. These rules were pretty straightforward: Worship God, don’t murder anyone, don’t steal other people’s stuff and leave your neighbor’s ox alone.
Because the Israelites, being human (not to mention tired, thirsty and hungry), weren’t the most cooperative bunch, God gave a little Broadway-style demonstration to his Chosen People to show just how serious he was about his new rule book. According to the Book of Exodus, God accompanied the presentation of his Ten Commandments with thunder and lightning, a trumpet blast and smoke coming out of nearby Mount Sinai. If this wasn’t enough, God added that “I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God, inflicting punishment for their father’s wickedness on the children of those who hate me, down to the third and fourth generation.”
Yikes. You’d think with all that the Israelites would have gotten their collective act together. Of course, as most people know, they did not, giving Moses perpetual heartburn as he traversed the desert lamenting that he could not get his people to do what they were supposed to do.
In retrospect, maybe Moses should have just sweetened the pot a little. At least, that seems to be the theory behind the Nashville-based Ten Commandments Project, founded by retired Donelson florist George Kelley and his wife Marion. The Project’s stated goal is for “10 million children in 10 years to memorize the Ten Commandments,” on the theory that the more kids who know the Ten Commandments, the better off they (and society at large) will be. As Kelley says in a mini-sermon during a telephone interview, “They will be the next presidents of the United States. They will be the next heads of businesses like Enron. What if the people who sunk Enron had remembered God’s law [not to steal]? Things might have been very different!”
Since George Kelley doesn’t have access to thunder, lightning or even a trumpet, he has opted for a more prosaic approach to getting American children to do what the Israelites never would: Give them money, and they will be righteous. Every child who memorizes the Ten Commandments (an affidavit signed by the child’s religious leader must be submitted as proof) gets a check for $10. The concept gained national media notice in December of last year, and affidavits began to arrive by the bushel to the Kelleys’ home.
It was more than they could handle. They received 7,500 requests over four-and-a-half years through a word-of-mouth ministry. Then, after the Associated Press picked up the story, the Kelleys were overwhelmed with 10,000 requests in a three-month period. That’s $100,000, for those of you scoring at home, and there just weren’t that many 10 spots in the Project’s coffers.
So, declaring that “we are victims of success,” the Project was put “on hold” two weeks ago, with exceptions made for children of servicemen and women. It sounds a little like the old “declare-victory-and-go-home” maneuver—we didn’t reach our goal, but we made progress, so let’s call it a day.
But the Kelleys swear they haven’t given up, especially after spending over $100,000 of their own savings on the Project. George Kelley points to the 10 Nashville businessmen who sit on the board of directors. People can also donate a buck or two on the Project’s official Web site: www.tencommandmentsproject.org. As for the Kelleys themselves, they have declared themselves tapped out. “My wife and I have prayed, and we don’t believe we should give over $200,000 of our retirement savings,” George Kelley writes on his Web site.
That’s probably wise. A hundred grand is a lot of money to put into an endeavor, which, for all its good intentions, probably won’t make much difference in the scheme of things. The Ten Commandments Project is to the advancement of a just and well-ordered society what Martha Burk is to the advancement of women’s issues: lots of symbolism; virtually no substance.
And the substance that the Project does promote seems somewhat questionable. For example, this comes from its Web site: “The radical Arabs and the radical Moslems (sic) are targeting our young children. On the battlefield they are killing our young soldiers. We are in a spiritual battle for the minds of our American children. We must win the minds of our children at an early age. We teach our children love. Their children throw rocks of hate.”
Nevertheless, the Kelleys do deserve much credit for keeping the First Amendment out of the equation and sparing us from the kind of costly and long-shot lawsuits over posting God’s rules in public places that have dogged cities and counties across the state. The Ten Commandments Project, though on life support it may be, is a purely private enterprise. This is a fact the Kelleys proudly boast in a letter to President and Mrs. Bush, asking (somewhat incongruously) for support of the cause. But the likelihood of this happening is slim. As George Kelley himself points out, “They’re kind of busy right now.”
Even if a miracle happens and the Bushes do get involved, the overall question remains: What’s the point? Jesus (possibly anticipating the human race’s eventual loss of any attention span whatsoever) thought so much of the Ten Commandments that he condensed them to two (love God and your neighbor), and most of us aren’t much good at following those. As Moses himself might tell us, the acts of displaying the Ten Commandments and committing them to memory really don’t mean a hill of beans. After all, if the wrath of God wasn’t enough to get people in line, what’s $10 going to do?
