(Homily for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on July 30, 2017, Proper 12)
One of the Bible’s “Good Ol’ Boys”
Last week after the service, John playfully pleaded Jacob’s case: “Why the bad rap?” he asked. It’s a fair question. If you’ve been here the last couple
weeks, you’ve heard me refer to Jacob as a scoundrel. Why? By the
letter of the law, he hasn’t done anything wrong, has he? The two counts against him are
questionable. There’s no law
against taking advantage of your brother’s stupidity, is there? If he’s too foolish to protect his
birthright, that’s on him. And
then that whole business of masquerading as his older brother—putting his brother’s
clothes on, making himself hairier than usual, all to trick his father and win
his blessing—well, that was really orchestrated by Jacob’s mother,
Rebekah. Can a young man really be
held responsible, if his mother’s told him to do something?
Maybe I have been too harsh on
Jacob. Maybe the responsibility
for his actions really belongs to others: to his brother for being a fool, to
his mother for being a bad influence.
Maybe Jacob just happens to be an innocent beneficiary of others’
irresponsibility.
The problem is, as I make all
these excuses, I can’t help but feel that I’m coddling Jacob. Which is perhaps to be expected. He is a momma’s boy, after all. But he’s more than that. Jacob, I believe, is one of the Bible’s
“good ol’ boys”: you know, he’s a winsome guy from a good family. Yeah, he may have dabbled in some
dubious behavior, but cut the guy some slack, give him a break. Can’t you see? He’s destined for greatness.
If my cards aren’t completely on the table yet, let me put
them there. I don’t approve of
Jacob. He’s a hero in countless
children’s Bibles—but why? What has
he done to deserve our adulation?
If anything, Jacob shows us how not
to live. Jesus invites us to make
ourselves last. Jacob strives to
be first. Jesus teaches us to wash
each other’s feet. Jacob grabs
them by their heels. Jesus invites
us to serve others. So far,
everything that Jacob has done has been self-serving. He may clean by the letter of the law, but not at all by the
rule of love.
A Romantic Drama Up There with the Best of Them
Which is why a part of me
rejoices when I read today’s scripture.
Jacob, remember, has run away
from home. All his heel-grabbing
had finally caught up to him.
After he swindled his brother Esau of his birthright and then beat him to
their father’s blessing, Esau was furious. He was planning to be done with Jacob once and for all. So Jacob flees. His mother has suggested he visit the
home of her brother, Laban, who lives up north in Haran.
That’s where we find him
today. What happens next is a
romantic drama right up there with Romeo
and Juliet or Pride and Prejudice—full
of uncertainty and heartache, deception and surprise. Laban has two daughters, Leah and Rachel. Both have their features, but Jacob is
smitten with the grace and beauty of Rachel. So when Laban asks what it would take for Jacob to stick
around and do some work for him, Jacob makes a deal: “I will serve you seven
years for your younger daughter Rachel” (29:18).
Even I, who do not approve of
Jacob, cannot begrudge him this tender love story. For once, he is not struggling to get ahead. For once, he seems to have a
heart. The storyteller puts it
most poignantly: “Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but
a few days because of the love he had for her” (29:20).
As touching as Jacob’s love is,
it wouldn’t be much of a story without a twist.
At the end of seven years, Jacob
approaches Laban and reminds him of their deal. Laban acknowledges that it’s time, and so he arranges a
wedding feast. In the charged
darkness of the evening, Jacob is waiting in the tent to embrace his new
wife. She enters. They consummate the marriage. The original story in the Hebrew
captures the next moment wonderfully, with what I would consider both comedy
and horror: “Then, the next morning—look!
It’s Leah!” (29:23). Jacob
has been duped. He angrily
confronts his father-in-law Laban, who says, “Oh yeah. I forgot to tell
you. We have a custom of giving
away our firstborn daughters in marriage first. How about this?
You agree to serve me another seven years, and I’ll give you Rachel in
marriage now too” (cf. 29:26-27).
What Goes Around…
You know what they say about
karma? She’s—she’s a mean one.
Jacob duped his brother into
forfeiting his firstborn privilege.
Now he’s been duped himself into fulfilling Leah’s firstborn
privilege. Jacob pulled the wool
over his father’s eyes. Now his
father-in-law’s pulled the wool over his eyes. He had deceived his father into giving him his blessing, and
his father-in-law has deceived him into seven more years of labor.
One ancient rabbi with a
delightful imagination guesses at the conversation between Jacob and Leah that first morning after. “Deceiver,” he imagines
Jacob saying to Leah, “did I not call you Rachel last night, and you answered
me?” To which Leah slyly replies,
“Did your father not call you Esau and you answered him?”[1]
What goes around, comes around,
they say. And finally Jacob’s
deception has caught up with him.
It has come full circle.
Jesus once proclaimed that those who live by the sword, will die by the
sword (cf. Matt 26:52). We see the
truth of this in Jacob’s tale. He
who gets ahead by heel-grabbing, will fall by heel-grabbing.
Where Is God’s Blessing When Our Heels Have
Been Grabbed?
That is a rather retributive
logic—measure for measure, like for like, an eye for eye. It satisfies our human urge for
payback. But it falls short of
reality. Do only the heel-grabbers
get their heels grabbed? Sadly,
no. Bad things happen to good
people all the time. Jesus had his
own heels grabbed. The message of
today’s scripture is not that Jacob
got what was coming to him—although I would dare say he did. The message of today’s scripture, I
believe, is simpler than that.
It’s that our heels get grabbed all the time, whether we deserve it or
not. They get grabbed by enemies,
by greedy business, by cancer, by bad news, by laws out of our reach.
So what about God’s
blessing? Remember, Jacob has
already had a dream that has promised God’s presence and goodwill. Jacob has already been assured of God’s
blessing. So where is God’s
blessing now? Has it left Jacob? Is it missing? And where is God’s blessing in our
lives, when our own heels are grabbed through no fault of our own?
Today’s scripture doesn’t have an
answer. And neither do I.
Maybe God’s Blessing Looks Different
But I am beginning to have a
hunch as I read Jacob’s story.
Where is God’s blessing when it hurts? When things don’t go our way? Maybe it hasn’t gone anywhere. Maybe it simply doesn’t look like what we’re looking for:
success or happiness or personal advancement. Maybe God’s blessing is as intangible and immortal as a
dream, as invisible and eternal as love; maybe God’s blessing has less to do
with what we can get, and more to do with what we give.
Jacob gives fourteen years of his
life as a mark of his love for Rachel.
Maybe the blessing in Jacob’s life right now isn’t what he gets, but
rather his love and his dream and all that he is willing to give.
A friend recently shared with me
the story of a recently divorced single mother, who was facing the threat of
eviction and living off food stamps and the kindness of others. Her journey back to stability was slow
and difficult. But when she tells
the story of how she survived, she doesn’t talk about so much about her
struggles. She tells instead how
at her lowest ebb, she decided to throw a great dinner party for her friends
and neighbors. She went to the
dollar store, scrounged up whatever she could with what little she had, and
sure enough, she threw a feast.
That more than anything, she said, was what kept her going. She found blessing—just a little bit,
just enough to keep on—in giving rather than grasping, loving rather than
lashing out, dreaming rather than despairing.
The tale of Jacob tells us not only that karma can be mean,
but simply that life can be mean.
Our heels will get grabbed, whether we deserve it or not. Where is God’s blessing in this? Maybe it looks different than what
we’re looking for.
Prayer
God of deceivers,
God of the deceived—
You share your blessing
With us all,
But so often
We look for it
In the wrong places;
Grant us grace
To give up the struggle for what we can get
And to celebrate the gift,
Both given and received.
In the name of Jesus,
Who gave his life freely for all.
Amen.
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