A few weeks ago, I wrote a Children’s Worship Hour lesson for today’s text from Genesis. I typically look at the passage that will be preached on a given Sunday, find a good version of the story in one of the Children’s bibles from the collection I’ve curated across the years, and then work from that story to put together a teaching moment, a game and a craft for our 3-5 year olds. The supplies for these lessons are put together in buckets for our Firecracker and Sparkler classes by Jan Wilson, whose 20th anniversary at Northminster we are celebrating this week, and those who volunteer, or are sometimes voluntold, with our children lead them in the lesson while we are in Big Church. Our hope is that by teaching the same text to our youngest children that is preached with the grownups, we are creating space for continued conversations about the text when we leave worship each week.
It is sometimes challenging to find a way into these stories for our 3-5 year olds. If you’ve been in church for any length of time, you’ve probably heard this story told as a love story. Isaac meets Rebekah, they marry and everyone lives happily ever after. But there is quite a bit more here.
Isaac barely speaks. The longest speech belongs to Abraham’s servant, who recounts his journey in painstaking detail. The story lingers over prayers, hospitality, conversations and signs of God’s faithfulness. It is a story about discernment and about wondering where God is leading and trying to respond faithfully.
After all the speeches have been made, after the servant makes his case and the family weighs the evidence, the entire story comes to a halt.
Someone asks one final question:
Will you go with this man?
To me, that is the heart of the story. In the ancient world, marriages were typically arranged by families. Women often had very little say in the matter. And yet, Rebekah is asked what she thinks.
The servant has spoken, her brother has spoken, her mother has spoken and now our text awaits one more voice.
Will you go?
And Rebekah responds I will.
Those two words, a single decision, set the course of Israel’s story.
This weekend our country has celebrated 250 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Across the country there have been fireworks and cookouts, parades and 5Ks, swimming parties and family gatherings. We give thanks for the freedoms we enjoy and for those who have sacrificed to preserve them. We also tell the truth that the promises of liberty have not always been extended equally. Our nation’s story is marked by both remarkable courage and painful failures. Gratitude and honesty belong together.
AND we must consider that freedom is more than independence. Instead of “What are we free from?” we must ask “What are we free for?” Perhaps one of the greatest gifts God gives us is not simply freedom from oppression or freedom from fear but the freedom to answer.
Throughout Scripture, God is constantly inviting rather than coercing. Noah is invited to build. Abraham is invited to leave. Moses is invited to return to Egypt. Isaiah hears, “Whom shall I send?” Mary, the mother of Jesus is invited to bear Christ into the world. The disciples are invited to follow. Mary Magdalene is invited to announce the resurrection. And here, Rebekah is invited to go.
It would have been far more efficient for God to simply arrange everything without her. But that isn’t how love works. Love requires freedom. Covenant requires response. God’s kingdom has never been built through force. It has always been built through invitation.
God could have accomplished God’s purposes in countless ways. But from the beginning, God has chosen to accomplish them through people willing to participate. God doesn’t need us but God wants a relationship with us.
Rebekah has no idea what hangs on her answer. She does not know she will become one of the matriarchs of Israel. She does not know that generations later people will still tell her story. She does not know about Jacob or Joseph or Moses or David. She certainly does not know that the promises God made to Abraham will continue through the family she is about to help create. She simply knows that she has been asked a question.
Will you go? I will.
I suspect that’s true of most of us. Very few of us know, in the moment, the significance of the choices we make. We think we’re making an ordinary decision.
Rosa Parks had no idea that when she refused to give up her seat on a city bus, her quiet act of courage would help change the course of the Civil Rights Movement.
Jimmy Carter had no idea that saying yes to teaching a Sunday School class in Plains, Georgia, would become one of the most enduring parts of his witness, shaping countless lives long after he left public office.
Harriet Tubman had no idea that when she decided to return to help one more person escape slavery, she was beginning a lifetime of courageous journeys that would lead hundreds to freedom.
Fred Rogers had no idea that choosing to use the new medium of television to care for children would make him a trusted companion to generations of families.
I certainly had no idea twenty-six years ago what would happen when I chose to go to a weekend Acteens event, but that one decision has shaped every part of my life and ministry.
We rarely recognize the holy moments while we’re living them. We think we’re making an ordinary decision but God is weaving another thread into a much larger story.
Will you go?
Will you forgive?
Will you welcome a stranger?
Will you teach?
Will you visit?
Will you tell the truth?
Will you speak up?
Will you stay?
Will you go?
We don’t always know what hangs on our answer. Perhaps that’s why I appreciate Paul’s honesty in today’s lesson from Romans.
I do not do the good I want.
If Rebekah makes saying yes look easy, Paul reminds us that living out that yes is often much harder. We know the people we want to become. We know the life we want to live. And yet we lose our patience. We cling to resentment. We choose fear instead of trust. Paul reminds us that freedom is not simply the ability to choose. It is the lifelong work of becoming the people God is calling us to be.
And that is why Jesus’ words in today’s lesson from Matthew matter so much.
Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest.
Jesus knows that following is not always easy. And that disciples get tired. And that saying yes once is not the end of the journey but the beginning of it.
So let’s return to the question that has been echoing through this story from the very beginning:
Will you go?
The story does not end with a wedding. It ends with a promise continued. It ends with Isaac finding comfort after the death of his mother. In other words, God isn’t just preserving a covenant. God is bringing new life into a grieving family. Rebekah says “I will” and God’s story moves forward because someone was willing to participate in what God was already doing.
This week, our children and youth have been at Passport camp. They’ve worshiped, studied Scripture, served together, laughed together, and listened for god’s voice. We don’t know which conversation, which worship service, which quiet prayer, or which ordinary moment may become a holy turning point in someone’s life. Chances are, they don’t know yet either. That’s the way God so often works.
One generation hands the story to the next.
This weekend, as our nation has marked 250 years, we’ve spent time remembering those who came before us. We remember their courage, their sacrifice, their achievements and their failures. Every generation inherits a story and every generation decides what to do with that inheritance.
The same is true of our faith story. None of us began on our own. Someone taught us to pray and someone welcomed us into church. Someone told us the stories of Scripture and someone sang the hymns. Someone quietly served in the nursery, and someone kept showing up. Someone answered God’s invitation.
Will you go?
And now it is our turn. The question comes to us, not exactly as it came to Rebekah, but as it has come to our generation. Will you help carry the story forward? Will you trust God with a future you cannot yet see? Will you offer your own faithful yes?
Because the freedom God gives us is the freedom to participate in God’s unfolding story.
Like Rebekah, we may never know where our yes will lead. We simply trust that the God who was faithful to Abraham, faithful to Rebekah, faithful to every generation before us will remain faithful to every generation after us.
And when God places before us the next faithful step, may we have the courage to answer as Rebekah did:
I will.