This Sunday, we get a love story, of sorts. It's more complicated than that, as love often is. But in the end we are told that Isaac loved Rebecca and there is no reason I can think of to doubt that. It's a transitional story as well; Sarah has died and it's time for Isaac to marry. We know him - a little bit anyway. Today we meet his spouse, Rebecca.
We have been taught to speak of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But in my preparations for this post, I came across a piece by Rabbi Jane Litman entitled The Light in Sarah's Tent...and Mine. I commend it to you. Rabbi Litman is reflecting on her daughter's upcoming bat mitzvah. She shares these words from her thirteen year-old daughter, Sophie, writing for her drash (speech) on this text.
Rebecca is a young woman of generosity, compassion, energy, and courage. When Abraham's servant is tired and thirsty, she takes the time to bring water to both him and his camels. She looks after the welfare of a stranger and mere animals. She has a sense of adventure and is willing to journey across a continent to find her destiny.I also commend this piece from My Jewish Learning on Rebecca as well. One of the things we learn when we study Holy Scripture with others is that it matters where you stand. This sometimes makes people nervous; they want Scripture to speak objective truths, not subjective ones. But regardless of how "high" our view of Scripture is, we still have to stand someplace. We hear the texts from a slant. All of us.
I read, mark, learn and inwardly digest as a middle-aged white male mainline ordained progressive Episcopal Christian. I live, and read, from that place of privilege. A lot of the commentators I normally read also look like me. I'm trying to be intentional about changing that. With Old Testament texts, one place to begin is by reading Jewish commentaries that aren't interested in "leaping" to Jesus.
So what happens when I listen to the voice of a thirteen-year old Jewish female feminist? Well, that's easy. I hear and see things I would otherwise miss. This is a gift and this is also what makes God's Word come alive. It's not scary; it is encouraging. Even all my training can keep me from seeing certain things. This is why we need to read Scripture in community.That is why listening is an exegetical skill; so too, being curious about what you might not see from where you stand.
Left to my own devices (and many of the commentators I have come to trust) this post might have focused on Isaac. Yet one doesn't need to be a feminist to realize that Rebecca is the much more interesting character here. She is where the energy of the text is. What happens when we pay attention to her and notice (even in her patriarchal context and ours) how she navigates her way in life? Turning our full attention on Rebecca, we do indeed notice that Sarah has died in the previous chapter, and that Isaac and Rebecca will be the second-generation patriarchs. They are not Abraham and Sarah. They are not Jacob and Leah and Rachel and Zilpah and Bilhah.
They are Isaac and Rebecca. And there is no doubt that Isaac is a bit of an odd duck and kind of quiet in the text. Born late in his parents' lives, bound on Mt. Moriah (who recovers from that?) he is soon to be outwitted by Rebecca and Jacob (and again as on Moriah, on his back, now as an old man.)
Rebecca, on the other hand, is a strong and dynamic woman. So both pieces I commend to you are written by Jewish women. I do hope you have already clicked on those hyperlinks or will. But the phrase I came away with in particular is about how we might really more honestly speak of the God of Abraham, Rebecca, and Jacob.
There is a line in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer (written before the Episcopal Church was thinking much about inclusive language) that uses the phrase (in Eucharistic Prayer C) about this God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Many who preside at the Eucharist (including me) have tried to rectify this omission by adding the women's names. Which can be clunky when you get to Jacob - who not only had many children but many mothers of those children. Most often I divide them up at least, and say: the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; the God of Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. But that omits the other mothers of the other children of Jacob. Why? Because they were servants? Omitting them because of social class is problematic. Another way at this is to come up with three other women's name who are strong in their own right rather than the wives of the patriarchs: so it becomes something like, "the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; Miriam, Esther, and Mary..."
But here is my big takeaway from today: I found myself wondering what it might be like (and to see how a congregation might react) to pray to the God of Abraham, Rebekah, and Jacob. I don't know if I'll do that or not, but I like the simplicity of it and I may just try to sneak it in next time I am using Eucharistic Prayer C.
And they called Rebecca, and said to her, “Will you go with this man?” She said, “I will.” So they sent away their sister Rebecca and her nurse along with Abraham’s servant and his men. And they blessed Rebecca and said to her, “May you, our sister, become thousands of myriads; may your offspring gain possession of the gates of their foes.” Then Rebecca and her maids rose up, mounted the camels, and followed the man...One more thing. As mentioned above (because I did not want to bury the lead) - we are told that Isaac loved her. I find myself wondering if she might have been the first person who ever really, truly, loved him.
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