THE HEART OF LOVE SERMON Christ Church St Laurence, 9 July, 2017, Fifth Sunday After Pentecost TEXTS: Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67; Psalm 45:10-17; Romans 7:14-25; Matthew 11: 15-19, 25-30 ________________________________________________________________ Last Sunday Genesis gave us a dark tale about Abraham offering his son Isaac in sacrifice toYahweh. It was not, as it might have seemed, a divine incitement to violence but a grim tale from an ancient alien culture when human sacrifice was practised and deemed a worthy way to propitiate an all-powerful and probably angry god.1 Today we have another tale from that same culture but a light tale of love and romance. Full of whimsy and humour. A girl-meets-boy tale with all the anticipation, excitement and fluttering eyelashes any romantic could want. But, just as the story of Abraham’s willingness to kill his son had deeper and more subtle meanings, so today’s story is about more than fast-beating hearts and flashing eyes behind diaphanous veils. Some context. Abraham is old. Sarah has died. The Lord had blessed Abraham in all things, we’re told, but one thing remained: to find a wife for Isaac, and, in accord with God’s direction and promise of land, progeny and blessings, that wife must not be of Canaan, but from Haran back in the land of Abraham’s family.2 And so his servant3 set out with a grand cavalcade of ten camels heavy laden with choice gifts4 and in search of the choice bride. Enter Rebekah. A Rebekah accorded notable dignity and respect in this story, her opinion sought, her choices free — very unusual for the times and culture.5 This isn’t the scheming Rebekah of the future when she would urge her duplicitous son Jacob to dupe his dying father Isaac and set Jacob and his twin Esau against each other. This is the innocent young girl, as yet untouched by scheming family politics. She’s beautiful, kind and generous. Charm, friendliness, a happy heart; these are Rebekah’s gifts. She’s also strong and hard-working, it would seem. It’d take a lot of time,
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Or to schmooze for favours, especially victory in war
Genesis 24: 1-4 Unnamed in the text, he might be the Eliezer of Damascus mentioned in Genesis 15:2. 4 Genesis 24:10 5 Interpreter’s Bilbe, Vol 1, p.659 3
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strength and persistence to draw water from a well for ten camels, let alone one thirsty man. A camel, apparently, can drink nearly 230 litres of water at a time and that’s a lot when you only have one ordinary domestic jug to work with. But she bubbles with life and curiosity. There’s no hesitation in leaving her family to go to marry an unknown man, leaving with only her family’s blessing — and a clutch of new jewels. This story reflects legal marriage transactions of the time but, once Rebekah reaches Canaan, the narrator gives us a charming vignette of two people falling in love. Rebekah saw Isaac and, says Jewish rabbinic midrash, that he “was beautiful and of fine appearance … and in looks like an angel of the Lord.”6 “Whoa! Who’s that man?”, she burst out.7 Then, this particular midrash continues, “she bent over and fell off the camel”.8 By contrast, most modern translations of this verse are terribly boring. They have Rebekah decorously getting down, dismounting or slipping off. Only the Darby has her “springing off” and the King James has her “lighting off”. At least those two approach the eagerness of “falling off”. When Isaac sees Rebekah his enthusiasm matches hers. No hesitation here either. Custom is respected. The marriage effected. Isaac takes Rebekah into his mother’s tent, a sign that Rebekah would now be matriarch and, with Isaac, the means whereby God’s promises would be fulfilled. Arranged it may have been but, we’re told, Isaac loved Rebekah.9 Apparently, their love was genuine and the marriage happy. So far, so very secular. But — back to where we began — this is more than an engaging love story. Where is God in this pretty tale? God was an active agent in the near-sacrifice of Isaac and Isaac was spared. He was the child of the promise; he had to survive.10 But in the Rebekah/Isaac story divine action is missing. Or, at best, only implied. Blessings and good fortune are attributed to God but that gracious divine being is not pulling any strings. God is no puppet master in this story but seems to hover around its edges casting a benign parental eye over things and not directing the 6
Rebekah: Midrash and Aggadah by Tamar Kadari. Internet ref: jaw.org Genesis 24:65 8 Gen. Rabbah 60:15. Rebekah: Midrash and Aggadah by Tamar Kadari. Internet ref: jaw.org 9 Genesis 24:67 10 His survival was not necessarily because God condemned sacrifice as unethical. ’Polytheism and Human Sacrifice in Early Israelite Religion’ by Valerie Tarico, The Blog,11/10/2010, at huffingtonpost.com. Interview with Thom Stark [& John J. Collins?]. Book referred to is The Human Faces of God: What Scripture reveals When God GetsIt Wrong (and Why Inerrancy Tries to Hide It), Wipe & Stock, 2011. Note Ch. 5 Human Sacrifice in Ancient Israel. 7
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players. They’re the active ones making decisions and choices and pushing the story to its happy ending. Which brings us to contemplate those deeper more subtle meanings. [In one of her recent Reith Lectures, historical novelist Hilary Mantel says, “We carry the genes and the culture of our ancestors, and what we think about them shapes what we think of ourselves, and how we make sense of our time and place”.11 How does the Rebekah/Isaac love story meet us in our time?] The first thing to note is that God’s “divine hovering” in their story demonstrates care for people in the very ordinary things of their lives: birth, love, marriage, children, death, future. Pivotal human concerns, of deep concern to God. The second thing is that the very implication of God’s activity and assurance of presence and blessing erases the idea of a puppetmaster god who calls the shots. Instead, this God is guide and strength and support. This God is reassurance as well as source of blessing. This is a personal god committed to God’s creation and involved with it. And a god accessible, we are taught, — through prayer. Note the servant prayed. He did his master Abraham’s bidding but he prayed about it. Spontaneously, earnestly and simply. ‘O Lord, God of my master Abraham, please grant me success … and show steadfast love to my master Abraham.12 He asked for a sign that his choice of wife for Isaac would be the right one. And then there’s Isaac. [He] went out in the evening to walk in the field, our reading said.13 The scholars aren’t sure what the verb in that phrase means but, of the twenty-two biblical translations I was able to compare, two say “walk”, one says “relax”, one says “pray”, and the other eighteen opt for meditate. [One rabbinic commentary even has Isaac wrapped in zizit or ritual prayer fringes. Regardless of that decorative detail,] it is probably reasonable to say Isaac was walking in the cool of the evening breeze lost in thought, meditating on the possible outcome of the servant’s mission to find him a wife. Praying. Isaac would have been well aware of God’s promise of land, progeny and blessing. The old man would have spoken of it often enough and of Isaac’s role in bringing it to fruition. A heavy responsibility. Could he play his part in this promised future? Would he fail Abraham, and his God? This, of course, is pure speculation but it is not speculation that we should take from this ancient love story that idea of a concerned God. Emmanuel, God-with-us. A reassuring God who promises the possibility of hope-filled futures. The story speaks 11
Hilary Mantel ‘The Day is for the Living’, 2017 Reith Lecture 1 Genesis 24:12 13 Genesis 24:63 12
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to us of both divine agency and human agency. God acts but we must act for ourselves — supported by faith in God’s promise. Prayer isn’t easy. And we don’t always get answers we expect or want. Centuries after Isaac’s meditative walk Jesus would walk in the wilderness after his baptism, meditating on his possible future. And it became a future bringing brutal death. He would pray again at the Mount of Olives in Gethsemane about facing that future. “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.”14 You and I are unlikely to face that kind of brutal future. Just plenty of challenges, difficult decisions, unavoidable heartache. The same sort of dilemmas Paul agonised about. That oh so familiar passage we heard this morning always conjures up for me a picture of Paul pacing up and down, perhaps like Isaac in the cool of the evening breeze, meditating on his dilemmas, shaking his head perplexedly and ticking off the points on his fingers: I don’t understand … I don’t do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. … For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do and so on.15 A brilliant man but not always the clearest speaker. Jesus never said facing the future, or solving problems, or praying, would be easy but he did make a simple suggestion: Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.16 May I humbly suggest that’s good advice? And a good way of keeping in touch with God’s promises. It’s about trust really. That’s what Abraham, his servant, Rebekah and Isaac had. Trust in God’s promises. The promises at the heart of love. The grace of God be with you … ©The Rev’d Elaine Farmer, 9 July 2017, Fifth Sunday After Pentecost
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Mark 14:32-36. Also Luke 22:39-44 Matthew 26:36-39 Romans 7:14-20 selectively 16 Matthew 11:28-30 15
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