2020.07.26 | WHAT I DID FOR LOVE
“What I Did for Love”
Rev. Dr. Arlene K. Nehring
What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?
My oldest and dearest friends won’t even blink. They’ll tell you without hesitation that the craziest thing I ever did for love was to fall for someone who was about to leave for Indonesia for two years--and I told her that I’d wait for her.
So that the GenZs in the congregation can better appreciate how crazy this move was, I will explain that I made this decision before modern technology had come to rural East Java where Stephanie lived. That’s right: there were no phones, no TVs, no Internet, no Facebook, no Snapchat, and no Zoom. Imagine that!
Stephanie and I wrote letters to each other using real paper and ink pens, not texts or emails. I bought aerograms in packets of 30. Aerograms are pre-stamped, self-mailing letters made of light blue paper with dark blue and red trim.
I made sure that I always had enough in stock to write at least one letter every day. Nowadays, I can’t even think of when the last time was that I wrote a letter. (Neither can my mother.)
Twenty-eight years ago, by comparison, I wrote Stephanie as many as seven aerograms a day. She kept everyone of them, including the aerograms that she sent to me. I called them “love letters.” She calls them “field notes.” (She’s a cultural anthropologist.)
Stephanie and I have known each other for 32 years. This fall, we will celebrate 28 years of life together and the 12th anniversary of our “California wedding.” Though neither of us can imagine being married to anyone else, the fact that we have managed to share life and love together all these years wasn’t a given.
Shortly after we made our commitments to each other, Stephanie left for Indonesia on a Fulbright Scholarship to do research in a rice farming village in Eastern Java. For those who don’t know geography well, Java is pretty much the opposite side of the globe from New York, where we were living at the time. It’s easy to figure that out, because the time difference between the two locations is 12 hours. When it’s noon in New York City, it’s midnight in Jakarta. And vice versa.
Stephanie went to study the Indonesian civics curriculum in an effort to understand how such a diverse island nation could instill a sense of national identity in its citizens. When her parents and I put her on a plane at Dulles Airport, she told us that she’d be back in a year. As it turned out, she was gone for nearly two years.
I went to visit Stephanie about six months into her field work--only to find that she was planning to stay another year--which required putting off what would have been our “Massachusetts’ wedding.”
So this is why my oldest and dearest friends were just a little bit skeptical about Stephanie’s intentions.
Despite their doubts about Stephanie’s intentions and my judgment, Stephanie eventually returned to our village in Upstate New York, and a mere 14 years later, we were married here at Eden Church during what the LGBTQQIA communities sometimes refer to as “our summer of love.”
I don’t think I have to explain to anyone who knows Stephanie Spencer that she was worth the wait. But perhaps you understand and appreciate that this match made in heaven wasn’t inevitable. It required love, fidelity, and perseverance--just like every other covenant that is divinely inspired and blessed.
This is why Paul’s words in I Corinthians 13:7 have such staying power: “[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
And this is also why Marvin Hamlish’s music and Edward Kelban’s lyrics, in the song “What I Did for Love” from the musical A Chorus Line has had such staying power, both on and off Broadway. Ironically, their song was written for a dancer who faced a career-ending injury, and who sang about the love of performing. But subsequent musicians have heard it and reframed it as a love song.
II
True love is captivating and compelling.
We certainly see that in the case of Jacob (and maybe Rachel. Genesis is moot on whether the amorous feelings were mutual.)
Back in the days of the Patriarchs, the institution of marriage was quite different than how it is understood today, at least in the modern Western world. Back then, marriage was more of an economic institution than an amorous one, and poligymoy among the wealthier classes was the norm.
So the fact that the Patriarch Jacob is depicted as having two wives and two concubines is not remarkable from an historical or cultural perspective. What was remarkable about this story is that Jacob married one of his wives for love, and this decision cost him mightily in terms of a bride price.
The way that the narrator in Genesis tells the story, Jacob’s mother, Rebekah, went to his father, Isaac, and insisted that Isaac send Jacob to her brother Laban’s home in Harran. The purpose for the visit was presented as a search for his future wife, but Rebekah saw it as a way to keep peace in the family.
Isaac granted Rebekah’s wish, and Jacob was sent on his way. One night he had a dream in which he envisioned a ladder being lowered from the sky, and angels ascended and descended on it. In that dream, God spoke to him reiterating the promise to his grandfather, Abraham, that God would make his people a great nation, and that they would inhabit the land on which Jacob slept. (That’s the part of the story that we read and reflected on last week.)
When Jacob awoke from his dream, he was refreshed and ready to continue on his way to Harran. He was warmly welcomed by his Uncle Laban, and soon met and fell in love with Rachel, Laban’s youngest daughter. Jacob asked for the right to marry Rachel.
Laban agreed provided that Jacob serve as his shepherd for the next seven years. Jacob did as Laban required, but at the end of the seventh year, instead of presenting his youngest daughter for marriage, Laban presented his oldest daughter, Leah, and said that he could not allow his younger daughter to marry before the older one.
Jacob was unhappy with Laban’s decision, but he accepted it. He married Leah, and agreed to work another seven years to earn the right to marry Rachel. Finally, at the end of fourteenth year of service, Laban consented to the marriage of Jacob and Rachel.
Jacob and his two wives, Leah and Rachel, continued to live in Harran, and Jacob continued to serve as a shepherd for Laban, so that he could acquire a sheep and goat herd of his own. Eventually, when Jacob was satisfied with his earnings, he decided to take his wives and children and his herd and return to Cana, the land of his parents.
Jacob told Laban his plans and asked to be given what was owed to him. Once again, Laban cheated Jacob. The night before the herds were to be divided, and Jacob and his family were to leave, Laban sent his servants to cull Jacob’s livestock from the herd and hide them in a distant pasture. The next day, when Jacob went to claim what was his, the animals bearing his mark were gone.
Though Jacob had been cheated twice by his father-in-law, he labored on, and eventually received what was owed him. Then he and his family left for Cana.
III
So what do we make of this love story? Is it a story about love, a family feud, or divine judgment?
I venture that the answer is--all three.
The story about Jacob is certainly a story about his love for Rachel, and the ends to which he was compelled to go in order to become her husband. Seven years of service as a bride price was one thing, but fourteen was quite another. So clearly, there is some substantiation of the claim that Jacob truly loved Rachel.
The story is also about a family feud. In fact, it’s a classic--a biblical classic. I remember learning about Jacob and Esau and the rest of the clan, even before I was old enough to read.
The story was especially memorable to me as a twin, because my mother and grandmother frequently said that they prayed that my sister and I (and the rest of our family) would be able to get along with each other.
The fact that my sister and I are twins made the point all the more salient. And so, the story of Jacob and Essau’s dispute served as lifelong negative example for us of how not to relate with our twin. (Don’t fight with your twin--especially don’t fight over inheritance!)
So, this story is a love story--nestled into a larger story about a family feud. But that’s not all. It’s also a story about “payback,” and judgment, and eventually justice.
Biblical scholars are quick to point out that at the very least Jacob received his “just deserts” from Laban for tricking Esau out of his inheritance.
In addition, the thought occurs to me that this story is also about a mother’s love and a mother’s wisdom. Nothing troubles a mother more than her children not getting along. An outright feud would have been cause for lost sleep, and a declaration of intent to murder would have been untenable.
Any decent mother would rather part company with one or more of her children than see one of her own take the life of another. So, what does a mother do in times like this, but she sends them off to their aunts and uncles.
A further thought that has occurred to me is that Rebecah didn’t just pick any of her siblings to host Jacob. She may have intentionally chosen the one who was most like her son, Jacob. She may have picked the one who was known for trickery, so that her son Jacob might get “a little taste of his own medicine.”
In sum, I suggest that this story is multivalent. It not only teaches about some of our ancestors in the faith; it teaches us about how God related to our ancestors, and how God continues to relate to us in modern times.
It is a reminder that God loves us. No matter how much we fight with each other, no matter how much we hurt each other, no matter how frustrated God is with us as individuals or groups, God doesn’t throw in the towel.
God gives us what we need rather than what we deserve. God renders love and justice. And this is the crux of the entire Judeo Christian story. Amen.