Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS
Ordinary Time - July16, 2017
Genesis 23: 1-2, 24
Of all of the great pleasures of life, there are few sweeter than losing yourself in a good story. The power of narrative to engulf our senses, raise imperative questions, solidify and nurture our values and worldview...stories matter in profound ways.
For the next few weeks, we’re going to be immersing ourselves in the continued saga of those who have long been called “The Patriarchs” in the Book of Genesis. Pastor Sue started us on this journey a few weeks ago as she modeled what it looks like to try and make sense of some of these more difficult texts - like Abraham almost-sacrifice of his son, Isaac. There are so many characters in these chapters of Genesis, that I had to sit down and make myself a little family tree earlier this week. And once I made it, I figured I’d share it with you, too, so you can try and follow along as we wander through these tales together.
Now, before we dive in, a word of caution. Something I learned long ago as a little girl reading and hearing these stories for the first time: The Bible can be a dangerous place to go exploring - especially if you happen to be a woman or girl.
I was reminded of this a couple of weeks ago when I had the honor of hearing best-selling author and UCCer, Glennon Doyle (who you might previously have known as Glennon Doyle Melton, but she has recently remarried and changed her name). Ms. Doyle is many things, including an amazing practical and self-taught theologian. My favorite kind.
As she spoke to us about what it’s like to be a woman in today’s world, Ms. Doyle talked about the ways in which the Bible can be a scary and dangerous place for girls to go wandering alone. Because the messages we receive there - as is so many other places in our culture - are steeped in patriarchal culture. And if we don’t have guides, if we don’t have other people whispering to us about how it’s okay to question what we read there or lift out subversive details for us, the Bible can be a manual for the continued oppression of women and girls. And that is profoundly NOT OKAY.
So Ms. Doyle told us about what it was like for her, as a young girl, becoming acquainted with the Bible. The first story she saw in the Bible that clued her in to what it means to be a female human was this: Once upon a time, God created a man. And the man was lonely, so God created a woman to keep him company. And for a little while, everything was very, very good. But then something terrible happened. The woman wanted a piece of fruit. She was hungry and she wanted something so she took it. And thusly DESTROYED THE WHOLE WORLD AND ALL FUTURE GENERATIONS. THE END.
Glennon joked, “All she wanted was an apple. Can you imagine what might have happened if she wanted a piece of pizza?”
One of the messages children might take away from this particular story, depending on how it’s told, is that women should want less. Our desires are dangerous. What a terrible thing to teach children of all genders.
Ms. Doyle went on to say that she travels the world and talks to lots and lots of women about what they want. And what they want, she says, is GOOD. Most women, she says, want clear air and water for all. They want to make sure the planet is still here generations from now. They want to take care of children - everyone’s children, not just their own. They want more love, more peace, more justice, more control over their own bodies. Hungry bellies filled, the captives set free, healing for bodies and spirits, equal access to education.
Glennon says that The Patriarchy is smart. Because if women were to realize their deepest desires, empires would have to be torn down and the world would be rebuilt from scratch. So those in power maintain power by teaching generation after generation of children that women and girls are not to be trusted. That we don’t really know what we want. And that whatever we say we want is bad. It’s a lot easier to maintain the status quo if girls are taught to keep quiet and make themselves smaller and smaller until they almost disappear completely.
Jesus rejects this understanding of women and girls. Completely.
Time after time he showed us that he came to live with those on the margins. He told new stories - or told old stories in fresh ways - that lifted up those who had been silenced. He continually upended expectations and sought freedom from oppression for marginalized and oppressed people - including women and girls.
So when I hear people talk about “The Patriarchs” in Genesis, I get a little twitchy.
Because to label these faith ancestors “patriarchs” is to miss at least half of the story. These stories in Genesis have always fascinated me because the women are front and center, larger than life. They play critical roles that cannot be underestimated. In fact, these stories don’t exist without Sarah and Hagar, Rebekah and her mother, Leah and Rachel, Bilhah and Zilpah, Dinah, and all the others who are unnamed.
And so, as imperfect as these stories may be - created in a patriarchal world and passed down through generations of problematic culture - I’m not willing to throw them out. I keep coming back to these Ancestor-Mothers of mine and turning over their stories again and again, sitting at their feet and wondering what they have to offer us today.
You know, one way to read this story of Rebekah and Isaac’s marriage is pretty conventional. Abraham wants to buy a wife for his son. So he sends his servant window shopping. Servant makes a deal with God and Rebekah appears. She’s in very good shape...beautiful. The servant talks to her brother and father to work out the details and the property - Rebekah - is transferred. She rides off into the sunset to fulfill her female duty of creating future generations. The end.
But to tell the story that way is to miss so many rich details which call The Patriarchy of their time and ours to task.
For example, the story begins like this, “Sarah lived 127 years...and died.” It is a matriarch whose death sets this new story into action. How do I know that’s the beginning of the story? Because it bookends with the very end, where Rebekah settles into her new home with Isaac and we are told that she comforts him as he grieves his mother.
Yes, you could say women in this story exist to serve men. But you can also see quite clearly that the men would be in a whole whole lotta trouble without the women.
Have you ever noticed that many interesting stories about men and women interacting in the Bible happen at the local well? Moses and Jacob both meet their wives at a well. And remember Jesus’s encounter with the Samaritan woman? Also at a well.
We are introduced to Rebekah at a well. She is there alone - an independent woman out on her own, away from the watchful eyes of family. And she is unafraid to approach strangers. She warmly greets this strange man and offers them hospitality. Not just hospitality, but life itself. Because when you live in a desert, nothing is more precious than water. And women who were the ones who gathered water. In this way, they wielded incredible power. I wonder if this is why so many interesting scenes take place at wells - they are a place where unrelated women and men have to mingle and the women have the upper hand. They control access to the most precious element in a hot and dry land: water.
And Rebekah is a water-gatherer extraordinaire. Her offer of drawing water for these ten camels is practically hyperbolic. Each camel would have drunk 20-30 gallons of water at a time. So when Rebekah, with her one small jar, offers to draw water for the camels and then DOES SO we’re talking about 200-300 GALLONS of water. Please note that she is not in this for the money. Abraham’s servant does not begin bestowing gifts on her until after she has completed this superhuman task.
After receiving the gifts, Rebekah runs back to her mother’s house. That tiny phrase “her mother’s house” reminds us that in this world, women and men were often separated. They had complementary, but separate roles. Rebekah likely doesn’t quite know what’s going on with this stranger, but perhaps she senses that something big is about to happen. She returns to HER community, the other women in her family, to begin sorting through her experience.
I think it’s worth noting that when Abraham’s servant tells his story to Rebekah’s family, he says, “Sarah, my master’s wife, bore a son….” A short and sweet reminder that this story simply does not exist without Sarah, the Matriarch. Another detail that I think is pretty important: there is no dowry exchanged in this story. Yes, the servant brings gifts, but they are freely given, not contractual. In fact, I wonder if this is part of the reason Rebekah’s brother and mother start to second-guess their hasty decision to send Rebekah away with this stranger.
Hearing his story, Rebekah’s father and brother are spell-bound and when he finishes, they immediately agree that this is a “God thing” and Rebekah is most certainly the one who should go and marry Isaac. I guess the finer details of contract negotiation slip their mind.
By the time the morning comes, it is too late to re-negotiate the deal. Abraham’s servant is ready to depart and is a bit impatient. And here is something absolutely astounding: when there is a conflict over when she should depart, Rebekah’s family calls her in and lets HER make the call. “Will you go with this man?” they ask. She utters two short, incredibly-brave, life-altering words, “I will.”
And it is done.
Following in the footsteps of her aunt and uncle, whom she has never met, Rebekah rides off into the sunset on a new adventure. Like Sarah before her, she is unafraid to go where God calls. She leaves behind everything she knows - family, friends, home. And unlike Sarah, she doesn’t even have the comfort of traveling with her husband - instead, she leaves with a stranger trusting her new husband will be okay because God says so.
As they approach Isaac and the two prepare to meet for the first time, Rebekah chooses to cover herself with a veil. It’s not that she doesn’t have other women-folk who could attend to this piece of proprietary for her. She has brought her nurse and female servants with her. I see this act of self-covering as a bold statement of self-agency. “I give myself to you,” she says in veiling her own self. “I make this choice.”
She’s a strong woman - no doubt. Strong enough to water 10 camels by herself. Brave enough to set off with a stranger because she believes God has ordained it. Independent enough to be asked for her opinion and have it actually matter. All in all, she’s a pretty good hero, don’t you think?
After Isaac and Rebekah meet, something unusual happens. We are told that Isaac loves Rebekah. This is the first time in 24 chapters of the Bible where we are told that a husband loves his wife. Love is not a prerequisite for marriage in this culture. Nevertheless, Isaac loves Rebekah and we are told that she comforts him as he grieves his mother.
And so Rebekah is fully installed in her new tent - Sarah’s tent. The matriarch who died at the beginning of our story makes way for a new generation.
Don’t ever let anyone tell you this is a story about The Patriarchs. For to say that is to do violence against the women who are knitted into every turn and twist. Without the women, this story does not exist. Without our matriarchs, we are truly nothing.
God, who brought the world into being, who created and creates still, is still speaking in these ancient stories. And she still has a lot to say.
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