Isaac And Rebekah: A Marriage Made In Heaven
Sermon
FORMED BY A DREAM
First Lesson Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost
Early one morning several years ago, I was having coffee with a friend in her kitchen. Her youngest daughter came into the kitchen, dragging her favorite ragged blanket behind her. She looked at her mother with her big eyes and said, "Mommy, why did you marry daddy?" (I was surprised at such a serious question first thing in the morning!) My friend said, "Because I love him." The child's face broke into a smile, and she looked fondly at her blanket. "I love my blanket," she said. Her mother pulled her up into her lap, hugged her, and said, "I know you love your blanket. But your blanket can't love you back." She snuggled into her mother's lap, happy and content, and said, "But you can."
People marry for many reasons. The attraction of one person to another might be something as simple as the way he walks, the sound of his laughter, the way he holds himself. But we marry for much more than that. We want someone who can love us back.
Isaac needed someone to love him back. His mother Sarah had just died. Isaac wanted a wife. Abraham refused even to think about allowing Isaac to marry a Canaanite woman. It was essential that Isaac's wife be loyal to the living God. Abraham was afraid to send his son on the long journey back to Mesopotamia to find a wife. So he sends his loyal servant instead. Abraham assures the servant that an angel will guide him. Then they swear an oath and the servant leaves, consulting God all along the way. God is involved in the selection of Rebekah from the very beginning. If ever there was a marriage made in heaven, this is it! The servant finally arrives at his destination and meets Rebekah at a well. She is beautiful, but she is much, much more than beautiful. As the story unfolds, we discover that she is independent, trusting, generous, and courageous. When Abraham's servant asks her for a drink, she gladly gives it even though he is a foreigner. Then she offers to give water to his camels. She doesn't give them just a little. She sees to it that the animals are completely satisfied. There are ten camels and only one water jug, so it must have taken a while! The servant is thrilled. God has led him to a wife for his master's son. He bows his head and worships God. He speaks to Rebekah's family. The family deliberates, Rebekah gives her assent, and they are off. It's a little hard to believe. Rebekah just goes. She begins a long, dangerous journey with an unknown servant going to an unknown land and an unknown husband. Why did she do it? Obviously she had a sense of adventure. And maybe there was something in the servant's manner that made her trust him. In any case, Rebekah gathers up her things, calls her serving girls, they jump on the camels and go.
When they finally arrive at their destination Rebekah sees a man coming toward her. The servant tells her it is Isaac, her intended husband. So she throws the veil over her face and hops off the camel. Isaac takes her into the tent, and they are husband and wife. (It's a good thing this marriage was made in heaven, because it appears it was never made on earth.) I hope she fell in love with him too. I hope Rebekah looked at Isaac and saw something in him, something about the way he carried himself, something about his eyes and his voice. In any case, they met, they went into the tent, and that was that. In this way, God continued the covenant promise with the people through the marriage of Isaac and Rebekah. It sounds risky to me.
As a pastor, I have been present at a large number of weddings. I must confess that, for the most part, I don't like them much. I have several reasons. Weddings are wonderful celebrations, but they are often filled with stress and lists upon lists of things to do. One reason I don't like them is that I - as a pastor - often feel like I am just rented for the occasion like the pew candles or the tuxedos. Or maybe it's jealousy of a sort, because I think too much time and attention is spent on the party after and too little on the ceremony itself. I get grumpy when people want their favorite country and western love song in the wedding. I want them to choose the love songs we sing to God. And I wonder why it seems such a burden for some couples to spend a few hours counseling with a pastor, when they gladly spend several hours in front of a photographer. I suspect that we pastors can't avoid this dilemma over weddings. We live in a culture that is so in love with love. Just look at the magazines at the grocery store check--out next time you're there. I'll bet there are twice as many romance magazines and brides magazines as any other kind.
Don't misunderstand me. I am not a Scrooge about marriage. I am happy for everyone who has found someone to love. But I do know something about romances and covenants, and there is no doubt in my mind as to which will last longer. Romance is wonderful. I love meeting with engaged couples and watching them gaze lovingly at each other. But when I say that their marriage will be based on the promises they make rather than the feelings they have, their expressions turn to disbelief. When you're newly in love, the feelings are everything. But the truth is that anyone can fall in love. Anyone can have those feelings. Not just anyone can make the promises of marriage. A covenant, on the other hand, doesn't just happen like falling in love. A covenant is entered into deliberately. It has liberty and limits. It both binds and frees. Rarely do we know what we are getting into when we enter into marriage. But we find out. We say the words and learn their meanings as we go along. We promise a love that will last, not a love dependent on feelings. We promise partnership and trust and mutual service. That's often reflected in some of the sayings about marriage, like this one: "A happy marriage is a long conversation that always seems too short." Or this: "Success in marriage is more than finding the right person. It is being the right person." And another: "Marriages are made in heaven, but they are lived on earth." Entering into a covenant means making the promises now and then learning together to live them.
That is how it was for Rebekah and Isaac. I hope Rebekah had the feelings of romantic love. I hope she saw something about the way Isaac walked, the way he reached out his hand, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself. Whatever the case, I know they lived out the covenant. Isaac was the child of the promise and Rebekah became his partner in living the promise. She took an active part in God's plan. They did have a marriage made in heaven. Together they entered a journey of faith. It became a journey of trust, a trip without maps, not knowing where they were going but going anyway. That's what a covenant is. It is a journey in which one lives out the promise. It is moving forward in faith even when the desert rains come and the sand is washed away from under your feet. It is forging ahead when the desert winds of life rage and the power of their fury can knock you clean off your camel. Living the covenant means knowing in those terribly trying times that even the worst life brings cannot separate us from God's promise in the covenant.
It's not easy to live in the grip of a promise. We don't have the power to make it come true. It's all in the future ... the land, the descendants, the blessing to pass on. But what better way to live can there possibly be than living in the grip of a promise? Especially a promise like this! And when we do, we discover that the promise is not just future but now. The promise is here in part and still coming. And while we wait we live reverently, deliberately, in partnership and anticipation. The waiting itself is rich and full until the very end. For Rebekah it began with Isaac. I hope she fell in love with him and thought there was just something wonderful about the way he carried himself. But, for them, it wasn't just romance. They lived their covenant with God and with each other. We do too. We live our covenants with each other and with Jesus. We can't prove much about Jesus, but we have a story, a blessing, and a promise to live. That's more than enough. And there's something about Jesus, the way he carries his head, his body ... his cross. The way he carries us. I want to walk in his covenant forever. Don't you? Amen.
People marry for many reasons. The attraction of one person to another might be something as simple as the way he walks, the sound of his laughter, the way he holds himself. But we marry for much more than that. We want someone who can love us back.
Isaac needed someone to love him back. His mother Sarah had just died. Isaac wanted a wife. Abraham refused even to think about allowing Isaac to marry a Canaanite woman. It was essential that Isaac's wife be loyal to the living God. Abraham was afraid to send his son on the long journey back to Mesopotamia to find a wife. So he sends his loyal servant instead. Abraham assures the servant that an angel will guide him. Then they swear an oath and the servant leaves, consulting God all along the way. God is involved in the selection of Rebekah from the very beginning. If ever there was a marriage made in heaven, this is it! The servant finally arrives at his destination and meets Rebekah at a well. She is beautiful, but she is much, much more than beautiful. As the story unfolds, we discover that she is independent, trusting, generous, and courageous. When Abraham's servant asks her for a drink, she gladly gives it even though he is a foreigner. Then she offers to give water to his camels. She doesn't give them just a little. She sees to it that the animals are completely satisfied. There are ten camels and only one water jug, so it must have taken a while! The servant is thrilled. God has led him to a wife for his master's son. He bows his head and worships God. He speaks to Rebekah's family. The family deliberates, Rebekah gives her assent, and they are off. It's a little hard to believe. Rebekah just goes. She begins a long, dangerous journey with an unknown servant going to an unknown land and an unknown husband. Why did she do it? Obviously she had a sense of adventure. And maybe there was something in the servant's manner that made her trust him. In any case, Rebekah gathers up her things, calls her serving girls, they jump on the camels and go.
When they finally arrive at their destination Rebekah sees a man coming toward her. The servant tells her it is Isaac, her intended husband. So she throws the veil over her face and hops off the camel. Isaac takes her into the tent, and they are husband and wife. (It's a good thing this marriage was made in heaven, because it appears it was never made on earth.) I hope she fell in love with him too. I hope Rebekah looked at Isaac and saw something in him, something about the way he carried himself, something about his eyes and his voice. In any case, they met, they went into the tent, and that was that. In this way, God continued the covenant promise with the people through the marriage of Isaac and Rebekah. It sounds risky to me.
As a pastor, I have been present at a large number of weddings. I must confess that, for the most part, I don't like them much. I have several reasons. Weddings are wonderful celebrations, but they are often filled with stress and lists upon lists of things to do. One reason I don't like them is that I - as a pastor - often feel like I am just rented for the occasion like the pew candles or the tuxedos. Or maybe it's jealousy of a sort, because I think too much time and attention is spent on the party after and too little on the ceremony itself. I get grumpy when people want their favorite country and western love song in the wedding. I want them to choose the love songs we sing to God. And I wonder why it seems such a burden for some couples to spend a few hours counseling with a pastor, when they gladly spend several hours in front of a photographer. I suspect that we pastors can't avoid this dilemma over weddings. We live in a culture that is so in love with love. Just look at the magazines at the grocery store check--out next time you're there. I'll bet there are twice as many romance magazines and brides magazines as any other kind.
Don't misunderstand me. I am not a Scrooge about marriage. I am happy for everyone who has found someone to love. But I do know something about romances and covenants, and there is no doubt in my mind as to which will last longer. Romance is wonderful. I love meeting with engaged couples and watching them gaze lovingly at each other. But when I say that their marriage will be based on the promises they make rather than the feelings they have, their expressions turn to disbelief. When you're newly in love, the feelings are everything. But the truth is that anyone can fall in love. Anyone can have those feelings. Not just anyone can make the promises of marriage. A covenant, on the other hand, doesn't just happen like falling in love. A covenant is entered into deliberately. It has liberty and limits. It both binds and frees. Rarely do we know what we are getting into when we enter into marriage. But we find out. We say the words and learn their meanings as we go along. We promise a love that will last, not a love dependent on feelings. We promise partnership and trust and mutual service. That's often reflected in some of the sayings about marriage, like this one: "A happy marriage is a long conversation that always seems too short." Or this: "Success in marriage is more than finding the right person. It is being the right person." And another: "Marriages are made in heaven, but they are lived on earth." Entering into a covenant means making the promises now and then learning together to live them.
That is how it was for Rebekah and Isaac. I hope Rebekah had the feelings of romantic love. I hope she saw something about the way Isaac walked, the way he reached out his hand, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself. Whatever the case, I know they lived out the covenant. Isaac was the child of the promise and Rebekah became his partner in living the promise. She took an active part in God's plan. They did have a marriage made in heaven. Together they entered a journey of faith. It became a journey of trust, a trip without maps, not knowing where they were going but going anyway. That's what a covenant is. It is a journey in which one lives out the promise. It is moving forward in faith even when the desert rains come and the sand is washed away from under your feet. It is forging ahead when the desert winds of life rage and the power of their fury can knock you clean off your camel. Living the covenant means knowing in those terribly trying times that even the worst life brings cannot separate us from God's promise in the covenant.
It's not easy to live in the grip of a promise. We don't have the power to make it come true. It's all in the future ... the land, the descendants, the blessing to pass on. But what better way to live can there possibly be than living in the grip of a promise? Especially a promise like this! And when we do, we discover that the promise is not just future but now. The promise is here in part and still coming. And while we wait we live reverently, deliberately, in partnership and anticipation. The waiting itself is rich and full until the very end. For Rebekah it began with Isaac. I hope she fell in love with him and thought there was just something wonderful about the way he carried himself. But, for them, it wasn't just romance. They lived their covenant with God and with each other. We do too. We live our covenants with each other and with Jesus. We can't prove much about Jesus, but we have a story, a blessing, and a promise to live. That's more than enough. And there's something about Jesus, the way he carries his head, his body ... his cross. The way he carries us. I want to walk in his covenant forever. Don't you? Amen.
