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About Craig McMahon

Angler on many levels.

Exodus 1:8-2:10: Subversive Compassion

This passage ends with a beginning: “She named him Moses because, she said, “I drew him out of the water. She is a princess, Pharaoh’s own daughter, violating his genocidal decree that every male child be thrown into the Nile. Pharaoh’s purpose is to keep girls for sexual exploitation and domestic slavery, but he is thwarted by women who subvert, and undermine him at every turn, exposing his absurd belief in power that seeks to counter God’s creative power, which like water flows through the compassion of women: unstoppable.

Pharaoh’s plan begins with the hands of taskmasters, who oppress the Hebrews with forced labor to build his city, storehouses for his wealth and places to worship his gods.  But the more the Hebrews are oppressed, the more they thrive. They grow and multiply, a teaming and unstoppable force, so that the taskmasters dread them, and redouble their ruthlessness, making the lives of the people bitter in every way possible. 

When oppression fails, he then turns to cruelty, commanding Hebrew midwives to kill the male infants they deliver.  The two midwives who receive his command represent many, for two midwives would surely be unable to deliver all the babies born to thousands of Hebrew slaves.  

Their names speak the truth of God’s power invested in them. The name Shiphrah translates as “beauty.”  The name Puh’ah means “gurgle,” as the mothering sound made to sooth a child.  For Pharaoh to command Hebrew midwives whose lives are devoted to the beautiful, soothing work of bringing Hebrew children into the world is failed and absurd from the start. 

The power of God is manifest in the midwives use of Pharaoh’s own blindness against him to subvert his will, which is no match for God’s intent to liberate the Hebrews:

But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live.  So, the king of Egypt summoned the midwives  and said to them, “Why have you done this, and allowed the boys to live?  The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women, for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them. Ex. 1:17-18

The word translated to vigorous derives from the Hebrew hayot, which in its verb form means “to live,” but in its noun form means “animal.” Thus the midwives are saying the Hebrew woman are not human like Egyptian women, but are like animals when they give birth, using Pharaoh’s own racist views to undermine him.

Pharaoh then assigns his genocidal plans to the whole Egyptian people in his effort to be rid of the Hebrews:

Then Pharaoh commanded all his people, ‘Every boy that is born to the Hebrews you shall throw into the Nile, but you shall let every girl live.’ Ex 1:22

We have no records of whether the Egyptians followed this command. It hardly seems possible, given the failure of the task masters, the subversiveness of the midwives, and the turn soon to come in the story—Pharaoh’s own daughter defying his command and obeying compassion.

Pharaoh’s demise comes by way of a Hebrew marriage, resulting first in the birth of a daughter, and then in the birth of a male child, hidden until he can no longer be kept quiet. His mother fashions a basket, a tevah, the same word used for Noah’s ark, sets him afloat, with his sister, Miriam, to tend him.

The part the Egyptian princess plays is sketchily told, as is the distress of the mother in this momentous risk she undertakes. But if a mother’s care for a child is a universal constant, then we might well imagine that she knew the the place and time the princess bathed, and floated the ark in a carefully timed moment, into the reeds, across which the Hebrews will later escape.

What develops in this moment is God’s power again manifest through human compassion, as with Shiphrah and Pu’ah, subverting the force of death represented by Pharaoh.

Upon discovering the child, the Princess knowingly says, “This must be one of the Hebrew children” (Ex 2:6c). Then, with courage seldom spoke of or preached on, Miriam speaks:

Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you? Ex 2:7

When the Princess says, “yes,” Miriam fetches her mother. This, too, is a rare moment of deep compassion and courage that is seldom spoke of or preached on.

Could it be possible for the Princess not to have seen that the woman who Miriam brought to her was the child’s mother, her breasts full of milk and her countenance, surely, telling her love for the child?

This moment of compassion is the power of God and of life undermining the power of death. Pharaoh’s fate is sealed because the power of death is no match for the power of compassionate love.

It is good to note another part of this story and of God’s power that is too often overlooked. The story of Exodus, beginning with the courageous compassion of these women, is a story of redemption, not for the expiation of sin, but for a people by no fault of their own.

God’s redemption is multifaceted.

There are qualities of the narrative that strongly suggests a multidimensional character of God’s compassion.  The mercy of God is not simply reactive, returning love for love.  It is proactive—securing human need even more profoundly than they who endure that need, and benevolently intruding into their lives unbidden. TIP 454 (italics mine)

It is for us as modern Christians to ask how God is benevolently intruding with redemptive, compassionate power in the world today on behalf of those, like the Hebrews, who are seen as of no-count, as threat to order and decency, and who depend on people of faith and courage to show compassion on them, though it means defying and subverting the powers of death who absurdly believe they can defy the power of God.

Resources
Alter, Robert. The Five Books of Moses. New York: Norton & Company. 2004.
Brueggemann, Walter. New International Bible. Vol. I. Nashville: Abingdon. 1994.
Charles B. Cousar, et al. Texts for Preaching. Louisville: Westminster John Knox P. 1995.

Exodus: An Introduction

Exodus begins with the fulfillment of the creative work of God declared Genesis: 

…The Israelites were fruitful and prolific; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them. Gen. 1:7 

As Genesis ends, God has provided for the Israelites through Joseph, the last of the patriarchs. With his death begins a new chapter in the story of God’s covenant: the liberation of the Hebrews from the power of death embodied by an evil King:

Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.  He said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we.  Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, or they will increase and, in the event of war, join with our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land.” Gen. 1:8-10. 

While the story of the Patriarchs of Genesis—Abraham, Isaac, Jacob—is a “sharply etched story of individuals” (Alter 299), Exodus tells the story of a people. The God of Genesis who engages with humans, is easily mistaken for a human until he reveals his identity, in Exodus becomes unseeable, speaks without becoming visible, and is represented by fire. While Abraham sees God and talks face-to-face, Moses cannot look at God, lest he die (Alter 301).

The change in the ways God is revealed in Exodus has to do with the fulfillment of the covenant with Abraham, the movement of the story of God relating to individuals to the God of a people. In this sense, God’s power is revealed in history on a grand scale:

God in Exodus has become more of an ungraspable mystery than he seems in Genesis, as he moves from the sphere of the clan that is the context of the Patriarchal tales to the arena of history.  His sheer power as a supreme deity as implacability against those who would threaten his purpose emerge as the most salient aspects of the divine character.  Alter 302

Brueggemann says the core theme of Exodus is covenantal liberation:

What happens in [Exodus] thus serves to make abused, oppressed persons subjects of their own history, able and authorized to take responsibility for their own future. 683

This central theme is written in socio-economic, and political terms.

The teaming masses Pharaoh fears migrated to Egypt during the famine to be fed on the grain of Joseph’s storehouses. In exchange for food, these migrants were put to work making bricks, building Egyptian buildings. They are not the literal descendants of Jacob / Israel; they are called Israelites because they are the offspring of Joseph’s provisioning. These people are diverse among themselves, migrating from the lands around Egypt, but they look the same to the people who enslave them:

They are named “Hebrews,” referring to a category of people who “have no social-standing, no land, and who endlessly disrupt ordered society.  They are low-class folks who are feared, excluded, and despised.” Brueggemann 695 

The term “Hebrew” is rendered from the original apiru, a term denoting not a religion or a religious community, but no-count people who have nothing and are socio-economic burden and threat to the established order.

The story of Exodus is of God’s mighty power to create a nation by librating these people from the power of death, giving them a law to live by, establishing a covenant with them, and being present with them on their journey through the wilderness to the promised land.

Exodus is a story of creation—creation through liberation, law, covenant, presence—organized around the theme of water. Egypt, on the Nile, is associated with water, and water will figure in Pharaoh’s demise. When the Hebrews are delivered, they set out into the Sinai wilderness, a land of parched dryness.

The story begins with the King of Egypt’s genocidal plans eventuating with Moses afloat on an ark into the reeds, drawn up out of the water at the behest of Pharaoh’s own daughter, who later takes him (adopts him) as her own, and raises Moses as a prince in Pharaoh’s own house.

Resources
Alter, Robert. The Five Books of Moses. New York: Norton & Company. 2004.
Brueggemann, Walter. New International Bible. Vol. I. Nashville: Abingdon. 1994.
Charles B. Cousar, et al. Texts for Preaching. Louisville: Westminster John Knox P. 1995.

God is Here?! With Me?!

Gen..: Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you
Ps.: even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.
Matt: Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.

God is Here?! With Me?!

Our study of Genesis brings us to another beginning story, Jacob on the mountain, discovering, much to his surprise, that God is there with him. 

He is fleeing his brother’s sworn oath to kill him. 

His mother and father send him away for his sake and theirs–his father will soon die: Jacob will not be there to bury him.

He will never see his beloved mother again.  

He is there on the mountain because he is a cheat and a scoundrel, as a consequence of his misdeeds…

Because of what my own momma was talking about when she said to me, “be sure your sins will find you out.”

Not sure why she said that to ME all the time….

This is not a planned journey. He has no provisions, no companions.

Sunset falls.

He looks for high ground intending at sunrise to see whether he is being followed.

But in the night, he sees a stairway connecting heaven and earth, with heavenly beings ascending and descending. God speaks to him, assuring him that the promises made to his ancestors belong to him as well, that in time he will return home.

It is a moment, a story, illustrating the parable Jesus tells of weeds growing in the wheat, a parable told to help us see that judgment belongs to God, not to us

We are not to go out weeding in the name of God. Jacob is a weed, after all, a scoundrel and a rascal.

Esau wants to pull him up by the roots, and with good reason.

This is the story that puts him on the mountain:

His father Isaac is old and dying, too blind to distinguish one son from the other. He calls for Esau, sends him out to hunt game, cook it, and bring it to him. Isaac’s dying wish is to eat one last meal with Esau to give him his final blessing.  

But Rebekah overhears this conversation, calls Jacob, and sends him out to get choice kids from the flock. She prepares Isaac’s favorite meal, dresses Jacob in Esau’s clothes and puts the skins of the kids on his arms,  so he feels as hairy as Esau to her blind and failing husband.. 

When Jacob goes into Isaac, Isaac smells him, feels his clothes, he believes Jacob is Esau, and so gives Esau’s blessing to Jacob.

This is why he sleeps on a stone pillow on a mountaintop. He has burned all of his bridges and cannot go back and undo what he has done,  No one trusts him, they all know he is a cheater; there is nothing he can say or do to undo or fix the trouble he has made…

If I were Jacob on the mountain, I would be doubting myself, feeling deep regret, second-guessing my decisions, blaming my mother for continually pushing me to stick up for myself, pushing me forward, pulling strings….talking about some old prophecy, using that get me into all sorts of trouble…into THIS trouble….

I would be thinking about how this family pattern was in play from day one, all the mess and conflict between my mother and father–there from the start and all that needed to happen was for my father, saint Isaac, to treat me and Esau the same and give up all this nonsense about the eldest son. 

And then there was Esau, wooden-headed brute, he could have spoken up for me, shown a bit of concern for me, told my mom to lay off and my dad to see us as twins and equals, but noooo.
Not Esau….

Looking back would be sickening enough; and looking forward?

What will Jacob’s reputation be when he gets to where he is going, to his mother’s family who have no doubt heard about him, a younger son who tricks his blind, dying father, tricks gentle old ISAAC, the promised son of Abraham, for God’s sake! 

Gosh, if I were Jacob on the mountain? I would be imagining how people would look at me, what they were saying about me, whether I could ever live this down….

And go to them looking for a wife, expect them to trust me with a sister or daughter?

If it were me?  I would be crying out to God, asking for forgiveness, praying for a miracle. 

Protect me from Esau, please God! Bless my dear father and mother. Make a way for me when the sun rises…If you get me out of this God I will never cheat again!!

Wouldn’t you be praying your heart out? Making promises and looking for divine deal?  

No, none of that. Jacob has no thought of God, offers no prayers at all, makes no sacrifices….

He just….goes……to …..sleep.  

Odd, no?

Okay, a brief aside for modern people:  

Our modern understanding of dreaming does not fit this story. Jacob’s dream is not the result of a psychological state as we understand it today, of working out stress and anxiety or of subconscious fears. No, dreaming in scripture is a form of divine communication. God revealed Godself to Jacob. Jacob is not tortured in his sleep, the ladder is not a way his subconscious deals with all the trouble he has caused.

No, none of that. Jacob’s ladder is not a resolution of psychic trauma but God speaking to him.  

So then, back to the question, why does he make no prayers, no sacrifices, why is he not thinking of God at all as we know we would all do if we found ourselves in the same position, why in fact does wake up surprised to find God was there…

Jacob knows nothing of God, nothing himself of God. He knows of the God of his father Isaac, and of Abraham,  that God made promises to them and took care of them in a way that does not fit his experience, not at all. 

He is not like Abraham desperate for a child, for a future…Not like Isaac, the blessed “only” son, loved by both his mother and father, who follows in his father’s footsteps without question and with little difficulty.  

No, the God of Abraham and Isaac belongs to home, to the past, to others, not here, not to him, not to this moment, not to the future…

He does not pray to God, makes no sacrifices, because he does not yet know God is with him too, is for him too.

We might well think of this in modern terms.

The quaint God of the last generation, you know, when everyone got along pretty well and things worked out and life wasn’t so busy…..a time now passed when there weren’t all these conflicts and divisions…something of an antique God, you know, of another era, not relevant to this moment.

If we could go back to that God, to that time……

Jacob has no thought of God because he does not yet know, nor does he expect, the God of his ancestors is also his God, speaks to him like he spoke to his forefathers….

He does not pray because the quaint God of his fathers seems irrelevant to the predicament he finds himself in, 

But the dream on the mountain changes all of this. 

Jacob reaches that place familiar to many of us: he knows he can’t go back and fix things, that he can only go forward when the sun rises, unsure of what lies ahead.  

I was looking over my notes from three years ago, from the last time we read the story of Jacob’s ladder together….Well, this is the first time we read it together; three years ago, I read it to an iPad, with the sanctuary as empty as a mountain top.  

What God says to Jacob was a comfort to us then, as I hope it will be today.

God says:

“Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.

And after Jacob gets over his surprise, he names the place Beth El–House of God, and says he has discovered a gate to heaven.  

This is the house of God, the gate to heaven….

And then Jacob piles up some stones to mark that place, and puts oil on it to signify its sacredness, its healing power, and because he believes he will come back that way again.

He then walks into the sunrise and into an  unknown future with confidence that God walks with him.

And so may we also walk my friends, and so may we walk.

Jacob’s Ladder, Genesis 28:10-19a

The Story Develops; Conflict Abounds 
The lectionary jumps over two chapters, from Jacob tricking Esau out of his birthright to Jacob cheating Esau out of his father’s death-bed blessing.  

Chapter 26 tells the story of Isaac establishing a place for his family as an alien in a land so hostile, he is afraid to claim Rebekah as his wife. Because of her beauty and his lack of power, he is afraid he will be murdered so she can be taken as the wife of another. He negotiates with the Philistine King, Abimelech. He establishes a place for his family, digging wells and prospering.

Chapter 26 ends foreshadowing what is to come:

When Esau was forty years old, he married Judith daughter of Beeri the Hittite, and Basemath daughter of Elon the Hittite; and they made life bitter for Isaac and Rebekah.  26:34-35

Old and dying, too blind to distinguish one son from the other, Isaac calls for Esau. He sends him out to hunt game, cook it, and bring it to him. His intention is to eat one last meal with Esau to give him his final blessing.

Rebekah overhears this conversation, and prepares to trick Isaac into blessing Jacob rather than Esau.

She sends Jacob out to get choice kids from the flock, and prepares Isaac’s favorite meal. She dresses Jacob in Esau’s clothes and puts the skins of the kids on his arms, so he feels as hairy as Esau.

When Jacob goes into Isaac, Isaac smells him, feels his clothes, he believes Jacob is Esau, and so gives Esau’s blessing to Jacob.  

When Esau discovers he has been cheated out of his father’s blessings, he swears vengeance:

Now Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him, and Esau said to himself, ‘The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob.’ 27:41

Word of Esau’s plan to kill Jacob reaches Rebekah, and she again intervenes:

…so she sent and called her younger son Jacob and said to him, ‘Your brother Esau is consoling himself by planning to kill you. Now therefore, my son, obey my voice; flee at once to my brother Laban in Haran …27:42b-44a.

Rebekah then goes to Isaac and tells him that they have already suffered enough because of the Hittite wives Esau has married. The bitter experience they have shared at the hands of these wives Isaac to send Jacob away, back to Rebekah’s home to find a wife there among their people (thus, Laban reenters the story with surprising results ahead).

To end the chapter, out of spite and revenge, rejecting his own family, Esau goes Ishmael, and takes a third wife:

Esau went to Ishmael and took Mahalath daughter of Abraham’s son Ishmael, and sister of Nebaioth, to be his wife in addition to the wives he had. 28:9

Thus the stage is set for the story of Jacob fleeing home and finding himself as isolated as any human can be. He is exiled from his family by his own doing.  Will not be home to bury his father, and will never again see his beloved mother.  His brother Esau, a fearsome and powerful character,  has sworn to kill him.  We might well imagine he wishes he could go back an undo what he has done; he has no idea what lies ahead of him, what his reputation will mean when he arrives in Rebekah’s home.

Jacob’s Ladder
Two points of clarification for modern readers.

First, our English transition of ladder is unfortunate, as we imagine it to be a vertical up and down fit for one direction at a time.  The Hebrew more accurately tells of a stairway or ramp, with heavenly beings ascending and descending simultaneously.  Jacob dreams of a connection between the sacred and heavenly with the ordinary and earthly, a passageway, a gateway.  

Second, our modern understanding of the function of dreaming does not fit this story.  Jacob’s dream is not the result of a psychological state as we understand it today, of working out stress and anxiety or of subconscious fears.  Dreams in scripture are an external forms of divine communication.  “They are one means by which God’s own self is revealed.  …When Jacob awakens, he does not speak of God’s presence in his dream; he speaks of God’s presence in this place” (NIB 542).  

Jacob makes this discovery while he is in flight. He flees from home lest his brother kill him. When sunset falls, he looks for a safe place to sleep until he can continue to flee at sunrise. His stone pillow speaks to the ordinary place he finds himself, to his lack of preparation, to his vulnerability. He is not looking for God, not expecting rescue, not praying, not sacrificing. He himself does nothing to invite God to that place and with good reason: he finds himself there because of his misdeeds.

It makes sense for Jacob to expect judgement from God because of his deception and trickery.  But what he experiences instead is God’s unconditional faithfulness to him, and this is a surprising discovery to him:

Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!’ 28:16

His surprise is two-fold.

First, the place is ordinary, not extraordinary, not a known holy place, not a place he or anyone would expect to experience God.  

Second, until this dream, all Jacob knows of God has been the God of his father, Isaac, in the circle of his father’s home.  At this moment, he discovers God is not limited to the home place he had known, nor available only to his father, but God is with him even in this place, even with him.  

As part of this experience, we see Jacob on a journey, from the past, to the present, to future. Again as with all stories of beginnings: to begin is a transition, a time of discovery and transformation. Jacob’s understanding of himself and of God is new, a beginning. Jacob discovers he is part of a larger story which brings him to this place of transition. The beginning of the story of God and Jacob is indeed a new beginning for Jacob, a chapter in the ongoing story of God’s faithfulness to Abraham.

In this sense, this is a story of Jacob’s ladder is a story of call, of vocation. Jacob hears God say that the promises of given to his ancestors are given also to him. He then wakes in the morning to continue his journey with a sense of purpose, believing the promises given to him.

As with all beginnings, Jacob’s belief in this promise will be sorely tested, but on the mountain he discovers God’s promises are unconditional, given even to scoundrels such as him. 

Thanks be to God for that!

Resources
Genesis 12-36.  A Continental Commentary.  Claus Westerman.  Fortress Press Ed.: Minneapolis.  1995. 
The New Interpreter’s Bible. Vol. I.  Abingdon P.: 1994. 

Genesis 25:19-34 That Red Stuff

This brief text contains two stories.  First Rebekah suffering pregnancy with twins, foretelling coming struggles between them.  Second, conflict between the brothers, foretelling the birth of the nation of Israel.  

At the outset, we would do well to recognize main character in these stories, Jacob, is later given the name Israel, his offspring are thus the Israelites.  The telling of the story is at the same time a telling of the character of a nation of people chosen by God.  Christians often forget that Jacob is Israel, and Israel is a person. The story, then, of Jacob becoming Israel, is a story of transition  of a culture from one state to another.

The foretelling of the coming struggle is the oracle of prophesy given to Rebekah suffering a  difficult pregnancy.  

And the LORD said to her, "Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.” 25:23

This prophesy is a kind of riddle which  seems to predict the subjection of the older and greater people to the younger and smaller people.  There is a common theme introduced here that repeats often in scripture, the unlikeliest chosen over the likeliest, as is the case with the next ancestor story of Joseph, and famously by the choosing of runty David over his burley elder brothers.  This same theme enters the New Testament with Jesus choosing rough-hewn fisherman and ministering to the last and the least.

But the prophesy remains a riddle, when the sons are born with Jacob gripping Esau’s heel. Who is born first?  The question is no small matter, given the law of primogeniture in the ancient world, the eldest son by law inheriting the family fortune, or at least (according to Babylonian Law) a double-share of the fortune.  Doesn’t Jacob have an equal claim? Is Esau entitled to primogeniture because he was born seconds before Jacob, though the entered the world as a one?

This conflict beginning introduces a story of further conflict, cultural, symbolic, and spiritual.

Esau is a hunter of animals, living outdoors, pursing game—a hunter gatherer.

Jacob lives a more pastoral life, indoors.  While he cannot be called an agrarian, he represents a more civilized lifestyle.  Esau, on the other hand, follows in the footsteps of Isaac and Abraham, representing an older lifestyle that was giving way to new forms of civilization.   

There is opposition and conflict as new forms of civilization arise (Jacob) and old forms disappear (Esau).  

The cultural and symbolic conflict between Esau and Jacob becomes a spiritual conflict between God and Jacob-Isreal as his story develops. This struggle begins with the bowl of lentil stew Jacob prepares for his famished brother (Does Jacob know from past hunts that Esau would storm in demanding to be fed?  Is this why he has food prepared with a proposition at the ready?)

Esau comes in hungry from a hunt, talking like a brutish sort, with crude vocabulary and thought only for the moment:

Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!” 25:30b

“That red stuff”?  

When Jacob sets the price as Esau’s birthright, Esau responds:  

"I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me? 25:32b

Then, we see the strength, power, and shortcoming of Esau with five verbs in rapid succession: 

“He ate and drank, and rose and went his way.” 25:35b

The story concludes:

Thus Esau despised his birthright. 25:34e

The movement of the story shows Esau satisfying his hunger and thinking nothing at all about selling his birthright. Focus only present hunger, he squanders his future inheritance. 

Given the representative role this beginning story plays on the unfolding story of Jacob struggle in becoming Isreal, we might see in Jacob’s gripping his brother’s heel spiritual longing to be seen and recognized as equal and worthy of his father’s blessings.  By not passively accepting the lesser role assigned him, he represents both the transition from a dying cultural past to a new form of civilization, but also the spiritual struggle of coming to grips with who he is with God. This struggle is told and retold in scripture, with Jacob-Isreal showing us what it means to value our birthright in God.  

Resources
Genesis 12-36.  A Continental Commentary.  Claus Westerman.  Fortress Press Ed.: Minneapolis.  1995. 
The New Interpreter’s Bible. Vol. I.  Abingdon P.: 1994. 

Gen. 24: Wooing Rebekah

Chapter 24 is the longest, sustained ancestor story in scripture.  The sole conflict is whether the servant will be successful with his commission.  It is important to note that the outcome is unsure, even to Abraham who sees the getting of a wife from his ancestral home to represent his covenant God. There is a clear sense that how humans will behave is unknown and unpredictable, even to God.

At this point in Abraham’s long life, he us unable to act himself, but is forced to trust his servant to secure a wife, and thus also to continue the covenant with God.  As an old man, his future is not in his own hands, but relies on the trustworthiness of his representative (servant).

Part of this story is its genealogy certifying the family of Abraham.  Abraham insists that the servant find a wife not in Canaan, but by going to the ancestral homeland, Haran. Rebekah is the granddaughter of Nahor, Abraham’s brother. Her father, Bethuel, and Isaac are cousins.  Laban, who negotiates with the Abraham’s servant, is Rebekah’s brother. (Laban will reappear later when Isaac’s son, Jacob, comes looking for a bride.) 

The story of the wooing of Rebekah continues God’s covenant with Abraham and certifies it with ancestral genealogy—God working through human relationship over time.  The other part of the story is how Abraham is forced to depend on the faithfulness of his servant. He cannot do the work himself.  

Resources
Genesis 12-36.  A Continental Commentary.  Claus Westerman.  Fortress Press Ed.: Minneapolis.  1995. 
The New Interpreter’s Bible. Vol. I.  Abingdon P.: 1994. 

Between the Texts: Gen 23-24

In Chapter 23, Sarah dies, and Abraham negotiates with the Hittites place to bury her, a reminder that Abraham is an alien in a foreign land.  As seems to be the case in all of Abraham’s negotiations, he appears to be wealthy and is treated deferentially.  

He buys a cave and plot of land that faces Mamre (Hebron).  Keen readers will recall that Abram and Sarai are visited by God there, at the Oaks of Mamre.

In Chapter 24, Abraham resolves to find a wife for Isaac, but he is too old for this task, so gives it to a trusted servant, with instructions to go back to his homeland to find a wife. In extracting an oath from his servant, Abraham remembers God’s covenant with him.  His purpose in sending the servant away to find a wife is in honor of the covenant. 

There is concern—this part of the story is cut out of the appointed reading—that the woman found and her family will required Isaac to come to them to get her, or to live there with them. Abraham rejects this concern, saying that under no circumstances will Isaac leave his home to get a wife.  

Blinding Love

Rev. Craig Jan-McMahon
Windsor UCC
A Pentecost +5; 7/2/2023
Genesis 22:1-14 and Psalm 13 • Jeremiah 28:5-9 • Romans 6:12-23 • Matthew 10:40-42

Gen..: 	for now I know that you fear God
Ps.:	        I will sing to the LORD, because he has dealt bountifully with me
Rom: 	For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Matt:	and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.

The more I study Genesis, the more questions I have.

This I think is how scripture is supposed to work, not to present us with easy answers, moral bromides, but to open us to questions to match the depth and complexity and of what it means to be human, what is it like for us as we seek to live faithfully with the conflicting demands we all face.

These Genesis stories offer a kind of uncomfortable comfort..help us to see, again and again, that God chooses people who are not perfect, far from it…they keep turning to God, and God is committed to them, walks with them.  

It is a truism, I suppose, to say that to love is to open ourselves to be hurt, let down, frustrated, times of feeling alone….We define ourselves in our relationships and with God by how we respond when we are required to give all we have to give, and then a bit more, for to love over time means giving all we have to give, and giving it gladly.

When we look back over time, we can see that the future is something we have discovered together….have created together…not by careful planning or rational decision-making…but by holding hands and walking into the unknown…

Faith is like this…a risk…a promise not secured but a seed planted and tended and watered…by forgiveness…by reconciliation…through healing…and…..God help us….by learning to listen not just to words said but to so much more than words can say.

We find much and all and still more than this in the story of God and Abraham and Isaac…Abraham responding again and again, Here I am..believing…as he says again and again, that God will provide….

And yet he binds Isaac…is forcibly stopped from sacrificing his own on an altar of his own fashioning.  

It is tempting to see this story as all there is, the words on the page as complete… to take from it some abstract moral about willingness to sacrifice, to trust that God will provide…God teaching Abraham some sort of needed lesson at Isaac’s expense…

We might free ourselves to see something more if we accept Abraham is no more perfect than we are, see that like us he is making it up as he goes, his repeated declaration that God will provide a prayer, a hope, an expression of his own vulnerability to love, his blinding love….

When God stops Abraham then he sees the ram in the thicket, cannot see it until God shows it to him….

Why can’t he see it?  

Does it appear out of thin air, magically, or was it there all the time?

Why, as we remember from the story of Hagar and Ishmael dying of thirst in the desert, does Hagar not see the water they need until God reveals it to her?

Both of parents, in their desperate love for their children, both whose future depends on an only child, come to the very end of their own ability to provide for them, both are blinded by their love for them, both see their children suffering and in their desperation take matters into their own hands.

Love make us vulnerable, like Hagar, like Abraham.

Our very human response to vulnerability is to fix and solve and rescue, and when we can’t fix and solve and rescue, desperation leads us strike out blindly for something, anything, to protect those we love from the deep truth of our mutual vulnerability, 

What is it that we can’t see because of love, like Hagar and Abraham, how are we blind to how God is waiting to provide for us and those we love if our own eyes are opened?

If you imagine I have an answer to this question, you are mistaken, for I am blind too.

If I had the power to provide for those I love, though it mean binding them up and taking away their freedom to protect them I would do it.

I hate and am shamefully embarrassed by my impotence to secure the future and despise my own human vulnerability.

There is nothing I would not do, no sacrifices I would not make, for the sake of my own beloved Isaacs and Ishamaels. 

I am guilty of pretending I have answers and solutions and a clear plan to protect all of them, all of you, from hurt and from pain.

But I know better, we all know better, no matter how vociferously we pretend otherwise.  

What we know true of human love is true also of divine love…Like us God is vulnerable.

God has given us freedom to choose.  God has made Godshelf vulnerable to us.

We are invited to listen, to say Here I am, to trust God will provide for us even when we are blind to the variety of rams in thickets and pools of water in desert times,

What Abrahamic sacrifices are required of us?

I don’t know, nor can I say.

What I see, though, not told in the story…is not the binding of Isaac, is not Abrahams desperate failure, but the unbinding of Isaac, the rapturous joy of the knife used not to kill but to cut the ropes and set Isaac free, that moment when vulnerability is transformed into beauty, into worship, that sacred, holy moment when suffering and desperation are transformed in ways we cannot see in advance, but discover through faith

Isaac and Abraham sacrifice together to celebrate God’s good provision, which was there all the time, is always there, is here with us now, and we pray that God will help us to see it….  

With all that we have been through together, these past three years, in our homes and schools, in our national politics, in our congregation..with cataclysmic changes thrust upon all of us, and with all the sacrifices we have all been called to make…we can be forgiven for a sense of desperation, of falling prey to the idea that it is our job to fix and solve and rescue, to answer every question, but we are walking together with God who will provide for us and transform honest vulnerability into beauty, live and love that opens to us when we open our souls to see what is here already, provided for us though we struggle with our own blindnesses, for God knows, we all struggle with blindness…

No, it is not told in the story, we can’t see it unless we look for it, but Isaac, the one on whom the future depends, walks with Abraham, hears his father say God will provide, and when God provides and rescues Isaac, Abraham’s trust in God becomes Isaac’s trust in God, and thus the future is secured, and thus God provides. 

Genesis 22:1-14 Of God, Abraham, and Isaac

This story is one of the most beautiful and complex stories in scripture.  

Jewish and Christian Traditions
Jewish scholars call this story “The Binding of Isaac.”  Christian scholars call it “The Testing of Abraham.” These different traditions help us to see another vital difference of interpretation.  Jewish readers see a concrete story of the relationship between God, Abraham, and Isaac. Christian readers see a spiritual story about the relationship between God and humanity.   

The Chrsitian tradition seems to sacrifice the heart of the story for a broader theological principle. We might well learn from Jewish tradition and think about our own concrete, physical, real relationships with young people in our care, whom we see as our future, and what it is like for us to trust God will provide for them when find ourselves in Abraham’s position, feeling like we risk sacrificing them on altars of our own fashioning.  

In this way of reading the story, we might see scripture offering a model of Abraham’s experience as a father, times from his own life when his son has been in mortal danger but saved or rescued or provided for at the last possible moment.  This way of reading the story is helpful for its understanding of the working of scripture, not to convey an historical event as we understand historical events with our post-enlightenment way of understanding, but instead to see a very human story told and retold in a way that speaks deep truths our human journey, our experience of faith, and what it means for us to trust God when trust in God is all we have.  

Testing, Not Testing
The theme of God testing Abraham is distinct to this story.  In all other cases, when God is the subject, the object is Israel.  This theme is especially notable in the testing of Israel as they wander in the desert. 

God tests Abraham, and each time he is called, Abraham responds, “Here I am.”  Isaac carries the wood; Abraham the fire and the knife.  Angel stops Abraham, and a ram is found in a thicket.  

In keeping with understanding the neatness of this story, how it serves as a model, we might see Abaraham not as passing a test but as an anguished father who is in severe trial throughout. He does not pass a test but his child is saved, thanks be to God!

Violence, Morality, Voice
God and Abraham come off poorly in this story, so poorly that artists and philosophers have tended to focus on its violence, representing Abraham as a crazed lunatic forceable stopped by an angel.  In Fear and Trembling, Danish Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard says that Abraham is certainly not hearing the voice of God, because God would not tell him–or us–to violate moral law by killing his own son. 

While Kierkegaard’s reading makes sense philosophically, it misses the deeper truths of the story in the tender and familiar back and forth conversations between God and Abraham and Isaac.  

The repetition and rhythm, Abraham responding “Here I am,” conveys Abraham’s openness and responsiveness and a sense that he is making it up as he goes along, an experience we all understand.  

Mirror: Hagar and Ishmael
The similarities between the Hagar and Ishmael story (Gen. 16:13, 21:19) are striking. Abraham finds himself in much the same place as Hagar: as Hagar’s eyes are opened to see water for her son, Abraham’s eyes are open to see a ram caught in a thicket.  For both parents, God provides a way in the darkest moment.  

God Learns and Other Challenging, Important Themes
Renown Old Testament scholar, Walter Bruegemann, offers a deeply challenging reading.  

He said, ‘Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.’ Gen. 22:12: 

Bruegemann says “God genuinely does not know..the flow of the narrative accomplishes something in the awareness of God.  He did not know. Now he knows.”

While other scholars do not go so far as Brueggemann, his reading of the text seems to underlie the outcome they see of this story. God takes a risk on Abraham, not knowing how he would respond. If God tests within relationship to determine his loyalty, then God cannot disdain such an expression of loyalty.  

At one point as they journey up the mountain, when Abraham and Isaac leave their companions to travel along together, Abraham expects God will provide, that he and Isaac will return together:

Then Abraham said to his young men, ‘Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.’ Gen 22:5

This theme is again repeated through Isaac’s questioning of his father as they walk up the mountain, Isaac with the wood Abraham put on his back, and with Abraham himself carrying the fire and the knife: 

Isaac said to his father Abraham, ‘Father!’ And he said, ‘Here I am, my son.’ He said, ‘The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt-offering?’ Abraham said, ‘God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt-offering, my son.’ So the two of them walked on together. Gen. 22:7-8

The question that arises, as we learn from Jewish scholars, is why, believing God will provide, Abraham nonetheless binds Isaac and puts him on the altar of wood, and then raises up the knife.  If Abraham indeed believes God will provide, then why does he not see the ram in the thicket before he binds Isaac?

Alas, this is a question scholars have debated and for which there is no good answer. The binding of Isaac may be a moment of weakness for Abraham, perhaps symbolic and representative, of what I can’t say.  

There is another moment, though, that is deeply meaningful, to be sure, though this part of the story is left unspoken

Upon seeing the ram in the thicket, Abraham unbinds Isaac, and sets him free.  This unsaid, deeply suggestive part of the story resonates with parents whose children have escaped mortal perils, from chemotherapy to car accidents to addictions to all those decisive times for which we pray for deliverance, for God to provide.  

And yet another unsaid part of this story is its effect on Isaac. 

It seems safe to say, as Isaac’s story continues on from this moment, that Abraham’s trust in God becomes Isaac’s trust in God. 

Resources: 
Genesis 12-36.  A Continental Commentary.  Claus Westerman.  Fortress Press Ed.: Minneapolis.  1995. 

The New Interpreter’s Bible. Vol. I.  Abingdon P.: 1994. 

When Family Fails

Rev. Craig Jan-McMahon: Windsor UCC
A Pentecost +4; Sunday after Father’s Day; 6/25/2023
Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39

Gen..: for the son of this slave woman shall not inherit along with my son Isaac.n.
Ps.:	  be gracious to me, O Lord, for to you do I cry all day long.
Rom:  Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?
Matt:  Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.

When Family Fails

On the Sunday after Father’s Day, with public School and Sunday school on recess, with many of our families away on vacation…

We read the story of Abraham casting Hagar and his son Ishmael, into the desert with a bit of water and a crust of bread…

Family.

The families of our first ancestors, those whom God chooses, with whom God makes covenants feature murder, as with Cane and Able, betrayal as with Isaac and Esau, treachery as with Joseph and the brothers who sell him into slavery.

And then of course there is king David, whose adultery with Bathsheba leads him to murder her husband, and then whose son Absalom rebels against him and dies when his lovely hair gets caught in a tree as he is fleeing on mule.

What is that you say, “but that is the Old Testament? 

Hah..as if..

Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. 

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

This he says to the same disciples he has called away from their families.

Follow me and I will make you fishers of men, and the they follow him, abandoning wives and children, shirking obligations to take care of aging parents. 

Not returning home to bury their dead loved ones… walking away from family businesses and their responsibility to provide for their own families….  

Jesus himself is no family man but seems rather to uphold something like an alternative family with Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

Later, the Apostle Paul comes on the scene with no family connections whatsoever, and proceeds to declare social structures, gender roles, family hierarchies to be antithetical to grace.  

Given the fraught family relationships in our scriptures, what Jesus says about families it is a wonder that we Christians have so identified ourselves with family, focus on the family, with so-called traditional family values.  

But then, in quiet moments,  when we talk privately with people we trust about our families, the stories we tell of our family struggles are biblical in their complexities…

Yes, surely and truly, we have much to celebrate and honor in our families, but there is a lot of heartache too, and betrayals, and anger and grudges…. 

The struggle to love and support one another in our families is at the very core of faith, to fully engage in that struggle and work out the details of forgiveness and healing, of truth-telling and patience is what we all pray for, we all aim for, long for

To raise up a family in faith means aiming for the ideal of family we pray for and accepting the reality of family we live with, =living in the gap between our prayerful longings and the real living of our lives is the very essence of faithful living…

On earth as it is in heaven…this is our prayer…

If we were to be honest, and if we were to trust enough to tell our own stories…..

Some of us know what it is like to be Ishmael, to be seen as a threat and and a danger thus cast out for no reason at all save for the fear and narrow vision of people we want to love us, who should love us, who should see us as a gift and a joy rather than a threat…

Some of us know what it like to be Hagar, with no power and with no say, our well-being dependent on the whim of others, our suffering easily dismissed with fine sentiments–God will take care of you.

And then, too, some of us know what it is like to be Sarah, to see trouble coming long before anyone else does and raising the alarm, demanding action, seeking to limit damage we see coming, to secure the future of the family no matter the cost to others.  

Those who have been hurt or injured, like Ishmael and Hagar, surely understand what Jesus says about family, because there are times in family life when family fails us, fails  to take care of us, to love and accept us; there are times when it necessary to tell the truth and call family members to account, and these are those times Jesus speaks of… times when division is faithful,  as Jesus says, times when peace is not about pretending everything’s okay or about keeping quiet.

We all have capacity to grow and change and adjust, to share our stories with honesty and humility…

To be willing to lose life in order to gain life…

To distrust and question our Sarah-like fear and certainty of the future as if we can see as God sees…

To ask for forgiveness and to give it, and harder still, to accept forgiveness ourselves…

To foster family relationships that extend beyond those we have known or imagined to be.  

It happens all the time, and these are stories we need to tell, love we have experienced, love we see growing all around us….

Ask a grandparent about loving an adopted grandchild, some neighbor child whose grandparents live across the country or who are no longer living, about birthday cards sent and cookies baked and watching them grow with delight and wonder.

Or look at the many children who have been so well loved by two families when their one family suffers divorce, about the ways they work together apart for the good of their new families, about how the work out ways to honor their vows in ways that transcend what can be imagined, save by faith.

Talk to a someone who has lost a spouse and found love again, a miracle, a life lost, a life gained; see families thriving after they have helped one of their family members recover from addictions.

Listen to the stories of reconciliation, late in life, between family members who have lived their lives angry at one another, about time and time and time lost, but the joy of life gained…

Look at the strength and power of families to extend belonging and dignity to those whose own families failed them, who have taken them in and made them part of their own families, their own lives.  

Talk to those who live alone but have families of friends to celebrate their lives with, the pride and joy the find together, a family of friendship, of shared companionship.

The challenging and difficult stories we find in our scriptures are a gift to us, because they allow us to see our own humanness in them and again to find God’s faithfulness to us even when our own families fail us, even and especially when we fail them.

God is big enough to rescue Hagar and Ishmael and to bless Abraham, Isaac and Sarah, too.  

The brothers Jacob and Esau reconcile, and so we learn about forgiveness.

Joseph rises to power and repays his brothers’ treachery with kindness, and so we learn about generosity.  

King David’s sense of guilt and depth of grief inspires him to write psalms, and so we learn how to pray. 

The Apostles Paul expands the boundaries of family and tribe that divide us one from another and thus we are called to expand our notion of what family means in the light of God’s love. 

And Jesus teaches us to pray, Our Father, for we are brothers and sisters in Christ, the family of God, which nothing can divide, we are bound together by faith, in peace, in the name Christ, and God will never fail us.  

Jesus sees our struggles and heartaches and love and understand the our deep, primal, human need of family to accept us and nurture us and care for us, to see the best in us even when we don’t meet their expectations of us, even when we don’t measure up to their hopes for us, and especially when they reject us and abandon us.

Jesus speaks for us, for the truth of who we are just as we are. 

He wants us to see and to believe what is true and what we see when God rescues Hagar and Ishmael in the desert,

While our family may at times fail us, God never will. Amen.

Matthew 10:24-39
[Jesus said] ‘A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. 

If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!

‘So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. 

What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops. Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

‘Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

‘Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.
For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. 

Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.