Proper 9A +Coming Home + 7.9.23
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Saints, Oxnard
(Genesis 24:34–38,
42–49, 58–67; Ps. 45:11–18; Romans 7:15–25ª; Matthew 11:16–19, 25–30)
Sometimes leaving home means coming home to a new version of
yourself. Love is often a finding and a losing at once. An arrival and a
leaving, all at once.
This week I read the quote by Henri Nouwen: “There are many
other voices, voices that are loud, full of promises and very seductive. They
deny loudly that love is a totally free gift. I leave home every time I lose
faith in the voice that calls me the Beloved and follow the voices that offer a
great variety of ways to win the love I so much desire.”[1]
There is so much truth here. The place where we are most at home is resting in
God’s abiding love for us. Everywhere else we are in a state of exile.
And yet, today we read in the passage from Genesis 24 a story
of leaving home, at least for Rebekah. As is echoed in the Psalm, which says
“Hear, O daughter; consider and listen closely; *
forget your people and your father's house.” Rebekah is summoned away from her
family home and called to be a bride for Isaac. One of the same line of people
as Abraham. She leaves home, but finds love. And in finding love, she finds
home with Isaac.
This is an interesting passage because it is excerpted so
much you don’t really get the whole story from the excerpts. Abraham is old and
worried about whether his line will continue. He pledges his servant with
seeking a wife for Isaac. Why doesn’t Isaac go? I am not sure; I suspect it is
something to do with being busy taking care of their now extensive properties
and animals. Or maybe this was the way of things- a sort of arranged marriage
via a wise matchmaker. Either way, the servant goes off and decides who to pick
in a very precise manner. The one who will draw water will be the one.
This moment in the story reminds me of a lovely moment in the
service that Abundant Table’s Farm Church did for a while, and perhaps still
does. They have a “water of life” moment, when a bowl or jug of water is passed
and people bless themselves with it. It is a very simple and profound moment
when water is honored as that which sustains life.
In the same way, water in the desert literally made the
difference between life and death. While the servant may seem to be picking an
arbitrary way to determine the future spouse of his employer’s son, he is
actually being very practical. Who will come to me and provide me with what I
need? And who will do the same for my animals? This is the person who is worthy
not only to provide and receive love to and from my master’s son but also who
will be able to help care compassionately for their home and animals.
A friend pointed out to me that we should be careful not to
place Rebekah in too submissive of a light here, not to read this totally from
a patriarchal lens. She is not powerless. She serves, yes, but from a place of
helping lead in her own household. She also knows who she is- she is rooted in
her heritage and proclaims it proudly. When the servant asks to bring her home
to the household sooner than her family suggests, she is the one who decides to
do so. And as she prepares to go, bedecked in jewelry and ready to go in
procession, note the hymn that is sung to her by Rebekah’s sister and her
nurse:
“May you, our sister, become
thousands of myriads;
may your offspring gain possession
of the gates of their foes.”
This song is fierce. It is not meek and unassuming. They sing of a woman who
will leave a goodly heritage and who will be triumphant, at least via her
children! This is the origin story of a powerful matriarch.
But this is also a love story. At the end of this section, we hear: “Then
Isaac brought [Rebekah] into his mother Sarah's tent. He took Rebekah, and she
became his wife; and he loved her. So Isaac was comforted after his mother's
death.”
And that is true, isn’t it? That love is a comfort to us. It can be one of the
most challenging aspects of our lives, but it is also that gentle yoke which
Jesus describes. It is the closest thing on earth to the love of God, whether
it is felt with a spouse, a friend or a family member. The closest thing to the
perfect bliss we will eventually experience when we are face to face with God.
But love grows in the margins. This text might make you believe that Isaac and
Rebekah simply loved each other at first sight. And perhaps they did. But I
suspect that love grew. Every time she tended to an animal or to a loved one.
Every time he made sure she had enough to eat or was comfortable. That love grew.
And so we must persevere. Remembering that, in the margins of
our lives, love is growing, too. Love that will finally come ablaze in our
hearts when we are face to face with our Creator and our God.
Amen.
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