A journey of a thousand miles
Commentary
Object:
There are many books describing amazing journeys, but one of the most fascinating for me was Endurance, the story of Ernest Shackleton's experience in Antarctica in 1915. Shackleton's plan was to cross Antarctica on foot, but just a day's sail short of the disembarking point Shackleton's ship, the Endurance, became ice-bound. After ten months of drifting with his ship and crew in the icepack, the Endurance gave way to the pressures of the ice and was crushed. It was then that the adventure really began. Endurance was not just the name of a ship, but a description of how these sailors hung together in their 850-mile march to safety.
The idea of journeying will guide us through this week's lessons, though hopefully endurance will not be one of the requisite attributes.
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Even though the lectionary suggests a reading that provides a synopsis of chapter 24, the interpreter would be well served to take the entire chapter into account when preparing for proclamation. The fuller reading of the chapter presents subtleties of insight that are lost when relying solely upon the synopsis.
Sarah had just died. In Abraham's advanced age, and perhaps in a mood of depression following Sarah's death, he seems concerned that his own death is imminent. That concern appears to be behind his instructions to his trusted servant to swear a solemn oath not to let Isaac marry among the Canaanites nor to allow Isaac to leave the land of promise in search of a wife (24:1-9). In the event of the former, the promise would be compromised by the influence of polytheism; in the event of the latter, the promise would be undermined should Isaac decide not to return.
Upon arrival in Nahor, Abraham's servant requested of God a sign as an indication and verification of God's will. It is interesting to note that even after Rebekah responded exactly according to what the servant had requested, the servant nevertheless engaged in a moment of discernment to satisfy himself that this woman was indeed the appropriate choice (v. 21). At the very minimum, this action by the servant should remind us that "signs" alone are insufficient grounds for determining God's will and purpose -- discernment and evaluation are essential in determining the validity of "signs."
Notice, also, that the text gives the reader a preview into the character of Laban, Rebekah's brother, who will play a pivotal role later in the patriarchal narratives. When jewel-bedecked Rebekah went home to report what had happened, it was Laban who ran out to make sure that Abraham's servant did not get away (vv. 29-33). One can speculate (perhaps is even invited to speculate) that the primary reason for Laban's hospitality was the dollar signs in his eyes. Laban's enthusiasm can also be seen in his assuming the unusual role of almost speaking for his father in the marriage arrangement process (v. 50). Finally, notice that the servant presented dowry gifts to Rebekah, her mother, and Laban (v. 53). One can almost see Laban in a secret conversation with the servant offering to grease the wheels of permission in exchange for a little "expression of appreciation."
The request for a ten-day delay in Rebekah's departure is a bit curious. Were Laban and his mother hoping that the longer the servant stayed around, the more in dowry they might be able to extract from him? What is remarkable is that Rebekah was given a voice in the decision concerning her departure! In this patriarchal society in which marriages were arranged between the respective male participants with scant input by the woman concerned that Rebekah should be given a voice is not something to be overlooked. I am not sure what one should make of this, but it does seem to be something of a protest against the conventional status of women in a male-dominated social structure.
Perhaps Rebekah's speaking is a foreshadowing of her character, just as Laban's money-grubbing was of his character. Is it reading too much into the text to see in this an indication of Rebekah's independent spirit -- a spirit that reveals itself more fully in her favoritism for Jacob? One is tempted to see an independence of spirit in Rebekah's traveling without her veil only to put it on at the last minute so as to make a good first impression.
Finally, perhaps we have a clue to the difficulties that will arise later between Isaac and Rebekah when Rebekah is presented as a mother-replacement in Isaac's grief over the death of Sarah (v. 67). The text does not deny that Isaac loved Rebekah, but neither does it hide the fact that Isaac's affection for his mother figured not insignificantly into the marriage relationship. In the final analysis, it is up to the interpreter how much weight is to be assigned to this maternal reference, but it should at least serve as a caution against over-sentimentalizing the Isaac-Rebekah relationship.
Romans 7:15-25a
As the interpreter moves into this theological jungle created by Paul, a couple of questions need to be resolved. First, is Paul's primary audience Jews, Jewish Christians, or Gentile Christians? How one answers this makes a profound difference in interpretation. Secondly, what is Paul's primary intention in writing this letter? For instance, is it merely an introduction of himself to the Roman Christians or is there something of a personal apologetic at work? Finally, more of a caution light than a question is Paul's adoption of a Greek rhetorical style that sets up fictive conversation partners against whom he can present his own ideas. The challenge is trying to figure out when Paul is speaking of himself and when he is using the conversation partner to present a point of view counter to his own.
The approach I will follow is that Paul is writing to a Gentile audience. He is writing to defend his reputation against charges that he considers the Law and Judaism as invalid expressions of faith. And he is writing to put into proper perspective the intersection between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus and the intersection between the Law and Christ.
With that in mind, let's see if we can make sense of chapter 7. Paul begins the chapter by trying to correct the misimpression that he equates law and sin (v. 7). He answers this charge by means of an analogy from the law concerning marriage. Just as a wife is bound to her husband for his lifetime, but is free from the marital obligation upon his death, even so the follower of Christ, though previously bound to the law of sin, is now freed from that relationship through the believer's participation in the death of Christ.
Enter the fictive conversation partner who asks what others have said about Paul's teaching, "Then you are saying that the law is sin?" This gives Paul a chance to explain his position more carefully. The law is not sin, but knowledge of the law (read, what God expects) awakens within one that sin-desire to do just the opposite of what the law requires. It is not the law that is bad; rather it is the attitude and actions awakened by knowledge of the law that is bad.
The fictive conversation partner raises another question in verse 13, to which Paul provides further clarification. Then we come to today's text. This passage has presented a dilemma to interpreters because they assume that Paul is talking about himself. This has led some to suggest that for consistency's sake, Paul must be referring to his life prior to conversion, since he states in verse 25 that in Christ God has delivered him from this captivity to sin. The problem seems to resolve itself if we begin with a different assumption, namely that it is not Paul talking in verses 15-24, but his fictive conversation partner.
Paul's alter ego accepts what Paul has said to this point, but then brings in an existential concern. "Paul," he might say, "all of that is good in theory, but what about real life? Let me tell you how things tend to work in my life. Where is deliverance in this bondage to sin for me?" Paul's answer -- God's grace at work through Jesus Christ.
It seems to be Paul's contention that this war within the soul is a pre-conversion phenomenon -- a problem for the fictive conversation partner, but not for Paul. If this is so, then the interpretation that this war within is an ongoing experience for all believers runs counter to what Paul is trying to say. For Paul, the battle is over. The believer has the indwelling presence of Christ that is able to overcome the struggles toward sinfulness. We may find this view of Paul's a bit disconcerting, we may even chose to disagree with him, but if this interpretation of Paul is correct, then it certainly does challenge the believer to quit using the war-within argument as an excuse not to be more obedient to the indwelling Christ.
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
How does one make decisions in the face of conflicting opinions and pressures? And why is it that not only can one not please all of the people all of the time, but one is also hard-pressed to please most of the people any of the time? Those in parish leadership certainly know how difficult it is to balance the competing agendas of parishioners in a way that makes progress possible. The question most folk want an answer to is: "How do you know it will work?"
Why is it that folks have this need to know the end at the beginning? Why do we insist on the promise of success before ever embarking on an adventure? Why is it that people get more joy out of nitpicking the faith journey of others than they do out of taking the journey for themselves?
Perhaps these questions are unanswerable, but this passage (vv. 16-19) makes a couple of things fairly clear. The first is that the journey of faith, no matter who makes it nor how it is made, is not without its critics. There will always be those whose mission in life is to rain on another's parade. The potential consequence of such negativity is to create a climate of paralysis in which only a very few ever make the effort to journey into the Land of Unknowing where the only compass is one's faith. Instead, we contentedly build our houses and villages and churches just at the border of the Land of Unknowing, satisfied that such proximity is all we need to experience faith.
The second insight of this text is that even those who do venture by faith into the Land of Unknowing will never really know how well the journey is going until after the journey is completed. That is what I think Matthew means by wisdom being vindicated by her deeds. As followers of Christ, we are to live and act in ways that we, in conversation with the church community, deem faithful and appropriate. In the final analysis, however, the quality of our faithfulness will be validated not by the opinions of others, but by the consequences of our actions.
Next, Matthew addresses the counterintuitive nature of faith -- in two ways. First, the receptive of heart have it over the astute of mind when it comes to matters of faith in or knowledge of God (vv. 25-27). Note that the distinction is not between the intelligent and the ill-informed, as though ignorance is prized over learning. Ill-informed folk with unreceptive hearts can be just as foolish as well-informed folk with unreceptive hearts. Rather the contrast is 1) between those who are teachable and those who think that they know it all, and 2) between the self-acquisition of knowledge and the gift (grace)-acquisition of revelation. In societies in which knowledge is equated with power, this divine approach seems indeed counterintuitive.
The second counterintuitive movement in this text is the description of Jesus' yoke being easy and his burden light (vv. 28-30). I don't know about you, but for me trying to follow the way of Jesus is no easy matter. For sure, I would trade my self-imposed burdens for the burdens of faith any day of the week, but to say that faith's burdens are easy is a bit of an understatement. Notice that Jesus does not indicate that those who come to him will be without a yoke, merely that the new yoke will be easy. One may wonder how this easy and light arrangement is possible until one considers that probably what Jesus is talking about is exchanging our single yoke for a double yoke -- a yoke he shares with us through a union of purpose and direction. It is no less a journey of faith than is described in verses 15-19, or any less counterintuitive than Jesus' thanksgiving in verses 25-27. Taken together, this passage invites us to leave the safe places of faith and to journey with Christ into the Land of Unknowing.
Application
What do the movies like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, The NeverEnding Story, and the Indiana Jones flicks have in common? They are all movies about a journey, the purpose of which is to acquire a special object that holds magic powers of rescue and salvation. This genre of movie provides the viewer with a sense of danger-filled adventure along with an evocative excursion into the imagination. Today's texts are also like that. They are about journeys -- some physical, some spiritual. The journeys are fraught with danger, but that which is sought holds the potential to transform life and hopes and dreams.
In Genesis we have the story of a physical journey taken by the servant of Abraham. In a sense it is the reverse of Abraham's own journey from Haran. Although the servant is journeying to a place that he knows, the outcome of the journey remains in doubt until that which is sought (Rebekah) is actually returned to Isaac's dwelling. We sense the servant's concern and apprehension. Will he find a wife for his master's son? Will she be the right one? What if, after finding the right girl, the parents refuse to allow her to leave? And at the end of the day what if Abraham or Isaac are not pleased with his selection? With all of these doubts and potential obstacles, one would not blame the servant for begging off the trip and staying home.
Journeys are like that. At times the "what ifs" outnumber the reasons why a journey should be made in the first place. The potential for failure can leave us well nigh paralyzed. Especially this is true when the journey is one of faith. God calls to you, his trusted servant, and bids you go on a mission for God to accomplish a task he entrusts to no one else. That mission or ministry may involve travel; it may involve leaving the familiar; it may involve going with no assurances of success. But going is what is required and you are the one God wishes to send. What is one to do?
In Romans we see a spiritual journey into a deeper communion with God. The dangers here are not physical but are no less intimidating. On this journey into a more profound spirituality, the demons are within. They come in the form of doubts, of self-abnegation, of magnified failures and diminished successes, of half-hearted efforts and easy excuses. This journey toward deeper communion leaves us shaking in our boots and defeated before we start. But in our heart of hearts we know that all of this can be overcome through an awareness of the presence of God. Yet we don't trust that presence and our sighs too deep for words remain only that -- sighs. How is one to begin?
In Matthew the journey is into faithful trusting. There's a saying that goes "better the devil that you know than the devil that you don't know." In Matthew's context it would be "better the security of an uncommitted faith than the uncertainty of a commitment of faith." The burdens we bear are overwhelmingly debilitating and unsatisfying. We know that at any time we can exchange those burdens for a shared experience with Christ. But the yoke we bear has become conformed to our shoulders and to give it up means taking responsibility for our life and faith. And by some reason-defying logic we convince ourselves that the journey toward a shared life with Christ is not worth exchanging the life-draining yoke we carry for the life-giving yoke of God. What is one to say?
Journeys are indeed serious business, but the rewards are nothing short of transformative.
Alternative Applications
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67. Throughout the biblical text we read of examples of persons "testing the waters" to determine the will and direction of God. The most famous example of this is Gideon's fleece test. Some folks today live "by the fleece," in that they are constantly looking for signs to direct them to God's purpose. How reliable is this approach? At what point does it become a lack of faith and become some sort of augury? The servant's request for a sign could provide an opportunity to explore with a congregation the relative merits of such an approach to faithful living.
Romans 7:15-25a. Someone once said that when persons become Christian then they can do whatever they want to do. This is possible not because they have become immune to sin, but because once they become a follower of Christ their "want-to's" change. The preacher could explore with the congregation whether Paul would agree or disagree with such an idea. To what extent do our desires change upon embracing the Christian faith? What help does Paul provide in dealing with this question?
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30. Jesus used the analogy of a children's game to describe the attitude and actions of some of his critics. A fun and interesting approach to this text might be to compare the way folks come at the Christian faith today with current games on the market. This could be done positively or negatively. In other words, "The Christian life is not like X," or "Have you noticed how much the Christian life is like X?"
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 45:10-17
Leaving it all behind
For the contemporary ear, these verses can be disturbing. They portray an image of a woman who must leave her father's house and submit to the man she is going to marry. The woman is even urged to bow to her new lord. As the words roll off the tongue, one can hear the hiss of recent generations of feminist scholarship crying foul. And, to the extent that such imagery has conspired to repress women, they should cry. We all should cry wherever scripture is misused to repress or intimidate.
There is, however, a metaphorical concern here that should not be missed. If we choose to follow God, what must we do? In the psalm, it is the bride leaving the father's home and familiar surroundings as she prepares for a new husband. She must leave everything and submit to her new lord. If we embrace the metaphor and live into it, the question comes to us as we consider following God. What must we leave behind as we give ourselves to this new "Lord"?
The answer for us, as it is for this bride, is "everything."
If we choose to follow God, then our old values, our former ways of seeing the world, our habits and habitats must all change. This is significant for many reasons. However, the most important thing that emerges from this consideration is the hard truth that most people do not really follow God. For many, the notion of following God is quaint. It is given intellectual assent on some level, but the truth is that most follow the desires of their own hearts.
To truly follow God, we must first make that choice. What it would mean to actually choose to follow God rather than career, rather than desire, rather than felt needs and immediate wants? If we really choose God it means that all that "stuff" gets left behind. Like the bride heading to a new husband's home, we too must leave home and settle in God's abode. Like the bride who bows to a new lord, we too must humble ourselves before this new Master, this God.
So, modern and post-modern sentiments notwithstanding, this psalm has a lot to offer. It calls us beyond our politically correct musings. It pulls us out of the tyranny of what we want, and confronts us with what it would really mean to actually follow God.
The idea of journeying will guide us through this week's lessons, though hopefully endurance will not be one of the requisite attributes.
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Even though the lectionary suggests a reading that provides a synopsis of chapter 24, the interpreter would be well served to take the entire chapter into account when preparing for proclamation. The fuller reading of the chapter presents subtleties of insight that are lost when relying solely upon the synopsis.
Sarah had just died. In Abraham's advanced age, and perhaps in a mood of depression following Sarah's death, he seems concerned that his own death is imminent. That concern appears to be behind his instructions to his trusted servant to swear a solemn oath not to let Isaac marry among the Canaanites nor to allow Isaac to leave the land of promise in search of a wife (24:1-9). In the event of the former, the promise would be compromised by the influence of polytheism; in the event of the latter, the promise would be undermined should Isaac decide not to return.
Upon arrival in Nahor, Abraham's servant requested of God a sign as an indication and verification of God's will. It is interesting to note that even after Rebekah responded exactly according to what the servant had requested, the servant nevertheless engaged in a moment of discernment to satisfy himself that this woman was indeed the appropriate choice (v. 21). At the very minimum, this action by the servant should remind us that "signs" alone are insufficient grounds for determining God's will and purpose -- discernment and evaluation are essential in determining the validity of "signs."
Notice, also, that the text gives the reader a preview into the character of Laban, Rebekah's brother, who will play a pivotal role later in the patriarchal narratives. When jewel-bedecked Rebekah went home to report what had happened, it was Laban who ran out to make sure that Abraham's servant did not get away (vv. 29-33). One can speculate (perhaps is even invited to speculate) that the primary reason for Laban's hospitality was the dollar signs in his eyes. Laban's enthusiasm can also be seen in his assuming the unusual role of almost speaking for his father in the marriage arrangement process (v. 50). Finally, notice that the servant presented dowry gifts to Rebekah, her mother, and Laban (v. 53). One can almost see Laban in a secret conversation with the servant offering to grease the wheels of permission in exchange for a little "expression of appreciation."
The request for a ten-day delay in Rebekah's departure is a bit curious. Were Laban and his mother hoping that the longer the servant stayed around, the more in dowry they might be able to extract from him? What is remarkable is that Rebekah was given a voice in the decision concerning her departure! In this patriarchal society in which marriages were arranged between the respective male participants with scant input by the woman concerned that Rebekah should be given a voice is not something to be overlooked. I am not sure what one should make of this, but it does seem to be something of a protest against the conventional status of women in a male-dominated social structure.
Perhaps Rebekah's speaking is a foreshadowing of her character, just as Laban's money-grubbing was of his character. Is it reading too much into the text to see in this an indication of Rebekah's independent spirit -- a spirit that reveals itself more fully in her favoritism for Jacob? One is tempted to see an independence of spirit in Rebekah's traveling without her veil only to put it on at the last minute so as to make a good first impression.
Finally, perhaps we have a clue to the difficulties that will arise later between Isaac and Rebekah when Rebekah is presented as a mother-replacement in Isaac's grief over the death of Sarah (v. 67). The text does not deny that Isaac loved Rebekah, but neither does it hide the fact that Isaac's affection for his mother figured not insignificantly into the marriage relationship. In the final analysis, it is up to the interpreter how much weight is to be assigned to this maternal reference, but it should at least serve as a caution against over-sentimentalizing the Isaac-Rebekah relationship.
Romans 7:15-25a
As the interpreter moves into this theological jungle created by Paul, a couple of questions need to be resolved. First, is Paul's primary audience Jews, Jewish Christians, or Gentile Christians? How one answers this makes a profound difference in interpretation. Secondly, what is Paul's primary intention in writing this letter? For instance, is it merely an introduction of himself to the Roman Christians or is there something of a personal apologetic at work? Finally, more of a caution light than a question is Paul's adoption of a Greek rhetorical style that sets up fictive conversation partners against whom he can present his own ideas. The challenge is trying to figure out when Paul is speaking of himself and when he is using the conversation partner to present a point of view counter to his own.
The approach I will follow is that Paul is writing to a Gentile audience. He is writing to defend his reputation against charges that he considers the Law and Judaism as invalid expressions of faith. And he is writing to put into proper perspective the intersection between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus and the intersection between the Law and Christ.
With that in mind, let's see if we can make sense of chapter 7. Paul begins the chapter by trying to correct the misimpression that he equates law and sin (v. 7). He answers this charge by means of an analogy from the law concerning marriage. Just as a wife is bound to her husband for his lifetime, but is free from the marital obligation upon his death, even so the follower of Christ, though previously bound to the law of sin, is now freed from that relationship through the believer's participation in the death of Christ.
Enter the fictive conversation partner who asks what others have said about Paul's teaching, "Then you are saying that the law is sin?" This gives Paul a chance to explain his position more carefully. The law is not sin, but knowledge of the law (read, what God expects) awakens within one that sin-desire to do just the opposite of what the law requires. It is not the law that is bad; rather it is the attitude and actions awakened by knowledge of the law that is bad.
The fictive conversation partner raises another question in verse 13, to which Paul provides further clarification. Then we come to today's text. This passage has presented a dilemma to interpreters because they assume that Paul is talking about himself. This has led some to suggest that for consistency's sake, Paul must be referring to his life prior to conversion, since he states in verse 25 that in Christ God has delivered him from this captivity to sin. The problem seems to resolve itself if we begin with a different assumption, namely that it is not Paul talking in verses 15-24, but his fictive conversation partner.
Paul's alter ego accepts what Paul has said to this point, but then brings in an existential concern. "Paul," he might say, "all of that is good in theory, but what about real life? Let me tell you how things tend to work in my life. Where is deliverance in this bondage to sin for me?" Paul's answer -- God's grace at work through Jesus Christ.
It seems to be Paul's contention that this war within the soul is a pre-conversion phenomenon -- a problem for the fictive conversation partner, but not for Paul. If this is so, then the interpretation that this war within is an ongoing experience for all believers runs counter to what Paul is trying to say. For Paul, the battle is over. The believer has the indwelling presence of Christ that is able to overcome the struggles toward sinfulness. We may find this view of Paul's a bit disconcerting, we may even chose to disagree with him, but if this interpretation of Paul is correct, then it certainly does challenge the believer to quit using the war-within argument as an excuse not to be more obedient to the indwelling Christ.
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
How does one make decisions in the face of conflicting opinions and pressures? And why is it that not only can one not please all of the people all of the time, but one is also hard-pressed to please most of the people any of the time? Those in parish leadership certainly know how difficult it is to balance the competing agendas of parishioners in a way that makes progress possible. The question most folk want an answer to is: "How do you know it will work?"
Why is it that folks have this need to know the end at the beginning? Why do we insist on the promise of success before ever embarking on an adventure? Why is it that people get more joy out of nitpicking the faith journey of others than they do out of taking the journey for themselves?
Perhaps these questions are unanswerable, but this passage (vv. 16-19) makes a couple of things fairly clear. The first is that the journey of faith, no matter who makes it nor how it is made, is not without its critics. There will always be those whose mission in life is to rain on another's parade. The potential consequence of such negativity is to create a climate of paralysis in which only a very few ever make the effort to journey into the Land of Unknowing where the only compass is one's faith. Instead, we contentedly build our houses and villages and churches just at the border of the Land of Unknowing, satisfied that such proximity is all we need to experience faith.
The second insight of this text is that even those who do venture by faith into the Land of Unknowing will never really know how well the journey is going until after the journey is completed. That is what I think Matthew means by wisdom being vindicated by her deeds. As followers of Christ, we are to live and act in ways that we, in conversation with the church community, deem faithful and appropriate. In the final analysis, however, the quality of our faithfulness will be validated not by the opinions of others, but by the consequences of our actions.
Next, Matthew addresses the counterintuitive nature of faith -- in two ways. First, the receptive of heart have it over the astute of mind when it comes to matters of faith in or knowledge of God (vv. 25-27). Note that the distinction is not between the intelligent and the ill-informed, as though ignorance is prized over learning. Ill-informed folk with unreceptive hearts can be just as foolish as well-informed folk with unreceptive hearts. Rather the contrast is 1) between those who are teachable and those who think that they know it all, and 2) between the self-acquisition of knowledge and the gift (grace)-acquisition of revelation. In societies in which knowledge is equated with power, this divine approach seems indeed counterintuitive.
The second counterintuitive movement in this text is the description of Jesus' yoke being easy and his burden light (vv. 28-30). I don't know about you, but for me trying to follow the way of Jesus is no easy matter. For sure, I would trade my self-imposed burdens for the burdens of faith any day of the week, but to say that faith's burdens are easy is a bit of an understatement. Notice that Jesus does not indicate that those who come to him will be without a yoke, merely that the new yoke will be easy. One may wonder how this easy and light arrangement is possible until one considers that probably what Jesus is talking about is exchanging our single yoke for a double yoke -- a yoke he shares with us through a union of purpose and direction. It is no less a journey of faith than is described in verses 15-19, or any less counterintuitive than Jesus' thanksgiving in verses 25-27. Taken together, this passage invites us to leave the safe places of faith and to journey with Christ into the Land of Unknowing.
Application
What do the movies like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, The NeverEnding Story, and the Indiana Jones flicks have in common? They are all movies about a journey, the purpose of which is to acquire a special object that holds magic powers of rescue and salvation. This genre of movie provides the viewer with a sense of danger-filled adventure along with an evocative excursion into the imagination. Today's texts are also like that. They are about journeys -- some physical, some spiritual. The journeys are fraught with danger, but that which is sought holds the potential to transform life and hopes and dreams.
In Genesis we have the story of a physical journey taken by the servant of Abraham. In a sense it is the reverse of Abraham's own journey from Haran. Although the servant is journeying to a place that he knows, the outcome of the journey remains in doubt until that which is sought (Rebekah) is actually returned to Isaac's dwelling. We sense the servant's concern and apprehension. Will he find a wife for his master's son? Will she be the right one? What if, after finding the right girl, the parents refuse to allow her to leave? And at the end of the day what if Abraham or Isaac are not pleased with his selection? With all of these doubts and potential obstacles, one would not blame the servant for begging off the trip and staying home.
Journeys are like that. At times the "what ifs" outnumber the reasons why a journey should be made in the first place. The potential for failure can leave us well nigh paralyzed. Especially this is true when the journey is one of faith. God calls to you, his trusted servant, and bids you go on a mission for God to accomplish a task he entrusts to no one else. That mission or ministry may involve travel; it may involve leaving the familiar; it may involve going with no assurances of success. But going is what is required and you are the one God wishes to send. What is one to do?
In Romans we see a spiritual journey into a deeper communion with God. The dangers here are not physical but are no less intimidating. On this journey into a more profound spirituality, the demons are within. They come in the form of doubts, of self-abnegation, of magnified failures and diminished successes, of half-hearted efforts and easy excuses. This journey toward deeper communion leaves us shaking in our boots and defeated before we start. But in our heart of hearts we know that all of this can be overcome through an awareness of the presence of God. Yet we don't trust that presence and our sighs too deep for words remain only that -- sighs. How is one to begin?
In Matthew the journey is into faithful trusting. There's a saying that goes "better the devil that you know than the devil that you don't know." In Matthew's context it would be "better the security of an uncommitted faith than the uncertainty of a commitment of faith." The burdens we bear are overwhelmingly debilitating and unsatisfying. We know that at any time we can exchange those burdens for a shared experience with Christ. But the yoke we bear has become conformed to our shoulders and to give it up means taking responsibility for our life and faith. And by some reason-defying logic we convince ourselves that the journey toward a shared life with Christ is not worth exchanging the life-draining yoke we carry for the life-giving yoke of God. What is one to say?
Journeys are indeed serious business, but the rewards are nothing short of transformative.
Alternative Applications
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67. Throughout the biblical text we read of examples of persons "testing the waters" to determine the will and direction of God. The most famous example of this is Gideon's fleece test. Some folks today live "by the fleece," in that they are constantly looking for signs to direct them to God's purpose. How reliable is this approach? At what point does it become a lack of faith and become some sort of augury? The servant's request for a sign could provide an opportunity to explore with a congregation the relative merits of such an approach to faithful living.
Romans 7:15-25a. Someone once said that when persons become Christian then they can do whatever they want to do. This is possible not because they have become immune to sin, but because once they become a follower of Christ their "want-to's" change. The preacher could explore with the congregation whether Paul would agree or disagree with such an idea. To what extent do our desires change upon embracing the Christian faith? What help does Paul provide in dealing with this question?
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30. Jesus used the analogy of a children's game to describe the attitude and actions of some of his critics. A fun and interesting approach to this text might be to compare the way folks come at the Christian faith today with current games on the market. This could be done positively or negatively. In other words, "The Christian life is not like X," or "Have you noticed how much the Christian life is like X?"
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 45:10-17
Leaving it all behind
For the contemporary ear, these verses can be disturbing. They portray an image of a woman who must leave her father's house and submit to the man she is going to marry. The woman is even urged to bow to her new lord. As the words roll off the tongue, one can hear the hiss of recent generations of feminist scholarship crying foul. And, to the extent that such imagery has conspired to repress women, they should cry. We all should cry wherever scripture is misused to repress or intimidate.
There is, however, a metaphorical concern here that should not be missed. If we choose to follow God, what must we do? In the psalm, it is the bride leaving the father's home and familiar surroundings as she prepares for a new husband. She must leave everything and submit to her new lord. If we embrace the metaphor and live into it, the question comes to us as we consider following God. What must we leave behind as we give ourselves to this new "Lord"?
The answer for us, as it is for this bride, is "everything."
If we choose to follow God, then our old values, our former ways of seeing the world, our habits and habitats must all change. This is significant for many reasons. However, the most important thing that emerges from this consideration is the hard truth that most people do not really follow God. For many, the notion of following God is quaint. It is given intellectual assent on some level, but the truth is that most follow the desires of their own hearts.
To truly follow God, we must first make that choice. What it would mean to actually choose to follow God rather than career, rather than desire, rather than felt needs and immediate wants? If we really choose God it means that all that "stuff" gets left behind. Like the bride heading to a new husband's home, we too must leave home and settle in God's abode. Like the bride who bows to a new lord, we too must humble ourselves before this new Master, this God.
So, modern and post-modern sentiments notwithstanding, this psalm has a lot to offer. It calls us beyond our politically correct musings. It pulls us out of the tyranny of what we want, and confronts us with what it would really mean to actually follow God.
