A marriage made in heaven
Commentary
Object:
In 1967, a psychologist named Kinch reported a rather bizarre experiment conducted by
university psychology graduate students. These males were part of what they considered
to be the "in" crowd on campus. They moved in the right circles, dressed the right way,
and went to the right places for nightlife parties.
But they all knew a particular young woman who wasn't in that circle. She was an "outsider," a "nobody," a person who didn't count, at least to them and their kind.
Knowing the effects of behavior modification, they planned together to see how she would change if they treated her, for a time, as if she were part of their "in" crowd. They made an agreement that whenever they saw her they would compliment her and show an interest in her. Furthermore, they would take turns asking her out on dates.
The experiment took a strange turn. Under other circumstances they did not like her. They would not have talked to her prior to this, but only about her, and in condescending and cynical ways. Yet, as the challenge progressed, each of the men gradually found the young woman more likable, less foreign, and less alien. The first fellow's date with her went okay, even though he had to keep telling himself she was more beautiful and better company than he truly felt.
By the time the third fellow asked her out, she had actually become part of their circle of friends. They thought it was kind of fun being with her. She wasn't so bad after all!
The fifth fellow never did get to date her, because the fourth fellow in line asked her to be his wife! What started as a rather cruel experiment ended up as an amazing testimony to the power of love.
Our romantic ideas of love nudge us into believing that there is a unique and wonderful "marriage made in heaven" for all who follow the divine signs and the heart's leading. While historical and sociological evidence doesn't seem to confirm our romantic prejudices, we are still children of faith who believe that God has a wonderful plan for our lives. This, ultimately, gives us confidence to seek a path into an unknown future. Abraham did it, expecting that his servant would find an appropriate wife for Isaac. Paul claimed that promise, believing that his fickle heart would eventually be tamed by Jesus. And our Lord himself declared the secret mystery of God's love that split the "Day of the Lord" in two, bringing hope and love to the distressed in our world. It is a good day, indeed, to believe in certain forms of marriage made in heaven.
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Biblical dating rituals are not quite as antiseptic as modern "Just Wait" campaigns would have us believe. For those wishing to follow biblical examples, men can marry clones (Genesis 2:21-22), sisters (Genesis 3:17), servants (Genesis 16:1-2), half-sisters in blended families (Genesis 20:12), or second cousins (Genesis 24:24), while women can hook up with angels (Genesis 6:2-4), their fathers (Genesis 19:33-38), their sisters' fiancés (Genesis 29:25-26), fathers-in-law (Genesis 38:13-19), or their bosses (Ruth 3). Spring break seems to provide a perfect setting for flaunting sex and stealing virgins, according to Judges 21, or just gathering all the women of the neighborhood to move in with one man, as Isaiah 4:1 suggests. Polygamy is a widespread biblical method of configuring domestic relationships, as is its somewhat less common twin polyandry. And when the deal is sealed between a man and a woman, either a ring in her nose (Genesis 24:47) or one in his ear (Exodus 21:2-6) will suffice.
So the story of finding a wife for Isaac in Genesis 24 is less strange in its context than it might first appear to us moderns. But if we search these verses for biblical wisdom concerning dating and marriage we miss the important message that stares us in the face. It is important to remember that while the tales of Genesis were likely passed along in oral tradition through the generations of Israelite development, they are gathered as scripture in a particular way: They form the lengthened historical prologue to the Sinai Covenant between Yahweh and the nation. In this setting they are shaped by way of a standardized formula to explain why this covenant is coming into being, and how it should be interpreted.
Genesis is structured literarily in four major sections. Chapters 1-11 identify the revealed cosmogony of creator and creation in distinction from the dominant myths of origins that set the tone of culture in the world that birthed the Hebrew nation. Chapters 12-25 focus on the life of Abram/Abraham as the point person through whom Yahweh reasserts the divine presence in a world that has forgotten its maker. Chapters 26-36 explore the wily and deceptive personality of Jacob who finally bequeaths his divinely appointed name "Israel" to the nation as a reminder of their often self-centered wrestlings with Yahweh. Chapters 37-50 help the newly released slave nation recall the manner in which they ended up in Egypt (dreaming their own dreams through the patriarch Joseph), and the way in which they emerged again (dreaming the dreams of Yahweh's great mission).
In this grand scheme, the person of Isaac is essentially lost. He is a footnote to the Abraham cycle of tales, and a foolish foil for his scheming wife, Rebecca, and their crafty son, Jacob, in the next story series. But through the marvelously detailed story of finding a wife, several key biblical themes are asserted. First, it is clear that Abraham considered himself an alien; a stranger and an exile in Canaan. When he commanded his servant to find a wife for his son from among those of his family who had started the quest with him, many years before, he was declaring his lack of affinity with those among whom he lived. This would help the Israelites, Abraham's descended family, many generations later, to understand that they also should not assimilate into Canaanite culture. They were a separate and distinct community, possessing a worldview that did not mesh with the surrounding societies.
Second, Yahweh, the God of covenant faithfulness, was in control of destinies. Those who relied on Yahweh for direction would find their pursuits blessed. Third, the journey into the unknown was scary, as Rebecca recognized, but one which could be pursued with confidence, given the confirming divine signs. So, too, with Israel, the new bride of Yahweh: While these days of flight from familiar Egypt on the way to a home of promise were fraught with fear, the divine initiatives that had marked their recent way were courage engendering.
Thus, the tale of the miraculous selection of a wife for Isaac is more than a simple call to seeking the will of God for dating and marriage. Instead, it is a scriptural testimony to the pilgrims of biblical faith that they are aliens, missionaries, and servants of God, who are given confidence that the journey they are taking does, in fact, lead them home.
Romans 7:15-25a
A husband and wife went to a marriage counselor because they were always tied up in arguments. The first session went badly because the two of them were constantly throwing accusations against one another, so the therapist said that at the beginning of their next appointment he would first see the wife for fifteen minutes, and then the husband, and then they would spend the rest of the time together reflecting on the dynamics of their relationship.
After the wife expressed her disappointment in her husband, she said to the counselor, "It's all his fault!" Moved by her passionate descriptions of their marriage, the therapist nodded in agreement. "You're probably right," he said.
Of course, the husband had a different version of life in their home. By the time his fifteen minutes ended he had reached fever pitch as well. "It's all her fault!" he cried. And again, the love doctor was swayed: "You're probably right."
Gathering both into his office for their final reflections, the counselor began by saying, "I've come to the conclusion that each of you is right about the other."
Startled and amazed, the husband sputtered back, "But that can't be! We can't both be right!"
To which the therapist thoughtfully nodded and said, "You know, you're right."
The indecision of that counselor reflects Paul's commentary on the human heart in today's epistle reading. We want one thing but do another, he says. We avoid certain behaviors like the plague, and yet look down to find our bodies ravaged by the very disease against which we thought we were inoculated.
This passage is found in the heart of Paul's second major thought in his letter to the Roman Christians. Written probably in the winter of 54 or 55 from the home of Gaius, Paul's great friend in Corinth, and hand delivered by a businesswoman named Phoebe who was a deacon in a suburban Corinthian congregation, the epistle to the Romans is Paul's most systematic summary of Christian theology. Major thought number 1 is found in 1:18--3:20. In this section, Paul poetically lamented our human plight: While we are not without our social graces, none of us retains the capacity to find our way to God, or connect with the deity in meaningful way. Therefore, according to major thought number 2 (3:21--8:39), God initiated a rescue mission that had its roots in Abraham and its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. While we are recipients of God's great grace, we continue to live in a compromised world where sin ravages our very hearts and minds. This is the cause of the dilemmas that Paul writes about in chapters 6 and 7. The former outlines the ways in which we can minimize the impact of God's grace in our lives by failing to appreciate divine love. Here the problems become psychological as we founder in our wavering will and enigmatic emotions.
These things make for great homiletic drama, and examples of wandering faith abound. But sermonic strategies for this passage must focus on the great point of it all. Paul is not reveling in human fickleness; he is instead appropriately obsessed with the strength of the divine initiative. We are saved and safe because God loves us without question or pause. This, of course, will be the theme of Paul's great testimony in Romans 8. But for now, the cinematic tension has been achieved.
In his book, Bringing Out the Best in People, Alan Loy McGinnis told about a business convention he attended one year as the featured motivational speaker. Part of the conference schedule involved awards for great efforts by company staff. One woman was brought to the podium to receive the "Employee of the Year" honors. Her story was truly touching, said McGinnis; through tears she noted her sad situation only a year before. Her marriage collapsed, her health was challenged, and financial concerns plagued her way. She felt she could not function as needed at her job, and made several overtures to her supervisor seeking termination. She even wrote several letters of resignation. But each time, Susan, her boss, delayed the process, telling her that she should just get through another day, that Susan wouldn't have hired her if she didn't have what it took, and that things would turn around soon. And, in fact, things had soon turned around, to the extent that now she was being recognized as the key employee of the entire organization.
Ignoring the other 3,000 people in the room and focusing her gaze solely on the woman to whom she owed her recovery and her place in the company, McGinnis said she spoke these words: "Susan, you believed in me even when I couldn't believe in myself!" That might well be the picture Paul is painting of us where, in the awards banquets of heaven, we owe our very existence to the one for whom the song "Jesus Loves Me" was written.
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
Matthew was a key pastor to the early Jewish Christian community. After Mark had written down the preaching of Peter about Jesus in the form we today know as the gospel that bears his name, Matthew adapted and expanded it for his increasingly marginalized community within the early church. While the community of Jesus' disciples had begun as a messianic sect among the descendents of Jacob, it was quickly outstripped in membership by the explosive Gentile mission that blazed through the Greco-Roman world. Some Jewish Christians were stalled in legalistic interpretations that prudishly denounced Gentile adaptations (see Galatians and Acts 15). Others were becoming disillusioned with Christianity, believing that Jesus offered little benefit over the old ways of Pharisaic piety (see Hebrews). In fact, one group of Jewish Christians would become known as the Ebionites, a rigid community of strict constructionist ritualists who would develop their own limited canon of scripture in an entirely opposite manner to that of Marcion.
While Matthew used about 90% of Mark's gospel materials in rewriting it as the document that would bear his name, it is clear that several guiding concerns are shaping his sermonic intents. First, he wants to make absolutely clear Jesus' direct link to the messianic prophecies of the Hebrew Bible. In fact, the first chapters of the gospel trace Jesus' early years as recapitulations of Israel's own history. Jesus copies Israel's miraculous existence and purpose (Matthew 1:18-25). He is saved from the murderous intents of a scheming king (ch. 2) who goes on to slaughter the innocents, just as Moses was delivered in Exodus 2 while many Israelite boys were slaughtered. Like the nation as a whole, Jesus is gathered out of Egypt (ch. 2). From his earliest days, he is dedicated to a divine mission (so the play on the words "Nazirite" and "Nazarene"). His ministry is set in motion by passing through waters (ch. 3), right at the same spot where Israel crossed the Jordan River in order to begin its witness to the nations from the promised land. Jesus also wanders the wilderness for "forty" days (ch. 4) before he can fully assume his adult responsibilities, mirroring Israel's traumatic years described in the book of Numbers.
Then, as Matthew brings these quick comparisons to a close, he relates that Jesus goes up on a mountain (Matthew 5:1), and from there restates and reinterprets the law or covenant mediated through Moses. What has come to be known as the "Sermon on the Mount" is deliberately cast by Matthew in a manner that identifies Jesus as the new Moses for a new age.
This becomes the theme for Matthew's gospel: Jesus is the messianic king who fulfills the intents and demands of the Mosaic covenant, and provides a way for people of all backgrounds (especially Jews) to enter into the emerging "kingdom of heaven." Matthew has a missionary heart that wants all groups and ethnicities to become Christian, but his passions are particularly stirred for those of his own race. So Matthew pays particular attention to those dimensions of Jesus' life and ministry that tie him to their religious heritage.
The major problem with such theology, however, was that Jesus seemed to be too nice. All of the prophets proclaimed that when the "Day of the Lord" would come, God's judgment on the nations would fall with swift vengeance. The coming of the Messiah was timed to intersect these events. When Messiah came, the earth would be purged of evil, a pious remnant would be spared, and the age of righteousness would be ushered in. This is the thought that undergirds the first section of today's gospel text. Jesus was misunderstood by his countrymen because he split the "Day of the Lord" in two. He initiated the kindness of the messianic kingdom in his first coming, but delayed the divine retribution on the nations until a second coming. That is why those in the Jewish community who looked for a vindictive and harsh Messiah were confused by the message of grace that Jesus portrayed.
This is also the background to the second section of the passage. The secret message of God, known only to the Son, is that God's gracious plan split the "Day of the Lord" in two, so that the kindness of God became the primary element seen by those who encountered Jesus. That was a great surprise to the Jews of Jesus' day who were looking for a fiery leader who would bring deliverance from the Romans. Jesus came as a pastor and a healer and a teacher, bringing comfort instead of condemnation, and encouragement rather than excommunication.
For religious insiders this was and remains a threat. It destroys the clear-cut divisions in society, aids and abets the criminal elements who are not immediately sentenced to hard time, and blurs the distinction between the righteous and the wicked. In other words, it does all those things that make the kingdom of heaven an act of God rather than a construct of humankind. It reeks of grace.
Of course, in the dark night of the soul which invades every person, this is the ultimate cry of the heart. That's why Jesus is still the Savior.
Application
The themes of dating and marriage might make a good platform on which to build today's message. Using the Genesis passage as an illustration of the drama of courtship, one can quickly build an analogy about the divine/human love relationship that is explored throughout scripture. Paul's words in Romans 7 can serve as a model of the waverings of our human hearts in the uncertainties of love and commitment, while Jesus' testimonies provide the encouragement we need to see the thing through, and know the great and final confidence on which Paul ends his wrestlings with doubt.
Alternative Application
Matthew 11:16-29, 25-30. Even though all of scripture is God's Word and profitable for preaching, there are some standout passages that beg to be treated with special reverence and significance. Such is Jesus' affirmation in Matthew 11:25-30. It takes little homiletic technique to lead the congregation into reflections on worry and weariness and woe that trouble all. Coupled with warm stories of hope and grace, and the winsome testimonies of the church recorded in its hymns and spiritual songs, Jesus' words are gospel writ large.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 45:10-17
Here is a woman who is given over to a new "Lord." The advice is clear, even curt. To paraphrase a favorite film of years gone by, it amounts to this. "Honey, you ain't in Kansas anymore!" The family and focus of old no longer applies in the courts of this new Lord. It's time to deal with the reality that is right in front of us. Certainly the psalm here could be read through twenty-first-century eyes, which take a dim view of women being portrayed as chattel. With that perspective, who could argue?
However, if one looks past the almost irresistible impulse to judge ancient text from contemporary context, there is a larger message to be heard. Could it be that each person, regardless of the path they take, comes to a point where it's important to acknowledge that things have changed? Whether it's the young virgin moving into the household of her new lord, or a Christian community moving into a new century, isn't it important to acknowledge that the landscape is different?
If the young woman who is now under the charge of a new lord continues to act as though her father and her family are her reality, it seems reasonable to assume that things may not go well for her. Similarly, a church community that has moved into a new cultural era needs to acknowledge that things have changed.
It's like the person who grew up in a rain forest. Living in an environment of constant moisture and dampness, it's natural to dress in a way that makes it more comfortable to live in that part of the world. But if one moves to the desert and continues to dress as though he was still in the rain forest, a few eyebrows might be raised in concern, or even mockery.
Yes, the call that emerges today is one for awareness. It's important for everyone to be aware of location, of context, and to not be lulled into thinking that where we used to be is where we are now. It's a word for us as individuals and certainly a word for us as Christian community.
But they all knew a particular young woman who wasn't in that circle. She was an "outsider," a "nobody," a person who didn't count, at least to them and their kind.
Knowing the effects of behavior modification, they planned together to see how she would change if they treated her, for a time, as if she were part of their "in" crowd. They made an agreement that whenever they saw her they would compliment her and show an interest in her. Furthermore, they would take turns asking her out on dates.
The experiment took a strange turn. Under other circumstances they did not like her. They would not have talked to her prior to this, but only about her, and in condescending and cynical ways. Yet, as the challenge progressed, each of the men gradually found the young woman more likable, less foreign, and less alien. The first fellow's date with her went okay, even though he had to keep telling himself she was more beautiful and better company than he truly felt.
By the time the third fellow asked her out, she had actually become part of their circle of friends. They thought it was kind of fun being with her. She wasn't so bad after all!
The fifth fellow never did get to date her, because the fourth fellow in line asked her to be his wife! What started as a rather cruel experiment ended up as an amazing testimony to the power of love.
Our romantic ideas of love nudge us into believing that there is a unique and wonderful "marriage made in heaven" for all who follow the divine signs and the heart's leading. While historical and sociological evidence doesn't seem to confirm our romantic prejudices, we are still children of faith who believe that God has a wonderful plan for our lives. This, ultimately, gives us confidence to seek a path into an unknown future. Abraham did it, expecting that his servant would find an appropriate wife for Isaac. Paul claimed that promise, believing that his fickle heart would eventually be tamed by Jesus. And our Lord himself declared the secret mystery of God's love that split the "Day of the Lord" in two, bringing hope and love to the distressed in our world. It is a good day, indeed, to believe in certain forms of marriage made in heaven.
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Biblical dating rituals are not quite as antiseptic as modern "Just Wait" campaigns would have us believe. For those wishing to follow biblical examples, men can marry clones (Genesis 2:21-22), sisters (Genesis 3:17), servants (Genesis 16:1-2), half-sisters in blended families (Genesis 20:12), or second cousins (Genesis 24:24), while women can hook up with angels (Genesis 6:2-4), their fathers (Genesis 19:33-38), their sisters' fiancés (Genesis 29:25-26), fathers-in-law (Genesis 38:13-19), or their bosses (Ruth 3). Spring break seems to provide a perfect setting for flaunting sex and stealing virgins, according to Judges 21, or just gathering all the women of the neighborhood to move in with one man, as Isaiah 4:1 suggests. Polygamy is a widespread biblical method of configuring domestic relationships, as is its somewhat less common twin polyandry. And when the deal is sealed between a man and a woman, either a ring in her nose (Genesis 24:47) or one in his ear (Exodus 21:2-6) will suffice.
So the story of finding a wife for Isaac in Genesis 24 is less strange in its context than it might first appear to us moderns. But if we search these verses for biblical wisdom concerning dating and marriage we miss the important message that stares us in the face. It is important to remember that while the tales of Genesis were likely passed along in oral tradition through the generations of Israelite development, they are gathered as scripture in a particular way: They form the lengthened historical prologue to the Sinai Covenant between Yahweh and the nation. In this setting they are shaped by way of a standardized formula to explain why this covenant is coming into being, and how it should be interpreted.
Genesis is structured literarily in four major sections. Chapters 1-11 identify the revealed cosmogony of creator and creation in distinction from the dominant myths of origins that set the tone of culture in the world that birthed the Hebrew nation. Chapters 12-25 focus on the life of Abram/Abraham as the point person through whom Yahweh reasserts the divine presence in a world that has forgotten its maker. Chapters 26-36 explore the wily and deceptive personality of Jacob who finally bequeaths his divinely appointed name "Israel" to the nation as a reminder of their often self-centered wrestlings with Yahweh. Chapters 37-50 help the newly released slave nation recall the manner in which they ended up in Egypt (dreaming their own dreams through the patriarch Joseph), and the way in which they emerged again (dreaming the dreams of Yahweh's great mission).
In this grand scheme, the person of Isaac is essentially lost. He is a footnote to the Abraham cycle of tales, and a foolish foil for his scheming wife, Rebecca, and their crafty son, Jacob, in the next story series. But through the marvelously detailed story of finding a wife, several key biblical themes are asserted. First, it is clear that Abraham considered himself an alien; a stranger and an exile in Canaan. When he commanded his servant to find a wife for his son from among those of his family who had started the quest with him, many years before, he was declaring his lack of affinity with those among whom he lived. This would help the Israelites, Abraham's descended family, many generations later, to understand that they also should not assimilate into Canaanite culture. They were a separate and distinct community, possessing a worldview that did not mesh with the surrounding societies.
Second, Yahweh, the God of covenant faithfulness, was in control of destinies. Those who relied on Yahweh for direction would find their pursuits blessed. Third, the journey into the unknown was scary, as Rebecca recognized, but one which could be pursued with confidence, given the confirming divine signs. So, too, with Israel, the new bride of Yahweh: While these days of flight from familiar Egypt on the way to a home of promise were fraught with fear, the divine initiatives that had marked their recent way were courage engendering.
Thus, the tale of the miraculous selection of a wife for Isaac is more than a simple call to seeking the will of God for dating and marriage. Instead, it is a scriptural testimony to the pilgrims of biblical faith that they are aliens, missionaries, and servants of God, who are given confidence that the journey they are taking does, in fact, lead them home.
Romans 7:15-25a
A husband and wife went to a marriage counselor because they were always tied up in arguments. The first session went badly because the two of them were constantly throwing accusations against one another, so the therapist said that at the beginning of their next appointment he would first see the wife for fifteen minutes, and then the husband, and then they would spend the rest of the time together reflecting on the dynamics of their relationship.
After the wife expressed her disappointment in her husband, she said to the counselor, "It's all his fault!" Moved by her passionate descriptions of their marriage, the therapist nodded in agreement. "You're probably right," he said.
Of course, the husband had a different version of life in their home. By the time his fifteen minutes ended he had reached fever pitch as well. "It's all her fault!" he cried. And again, the love doctor was swayed: "You're probably right."
Gathering both into his office for their final reflections, the counselor began by saying, "I've come to the conclusion that each of you is right about the other."
Startled and amazed, the husband sputtered back, "But that can't be! We can't both be right!"
To which the therapist thoughtfully nodded and said, "You know, you're right."
The indecision of that counselor reflects Paul's commentary on the human heart in today's epistle reading. We want one thing but do another, he says. We avoid certain behaviors like the plague, and yet look down to find our bodies ravaged by the very disease against which we thought we were inoculated.
This passage is found in the heart of Paul's second major thought in his letter to the Roman Christians. Written probably in the winter of 54 or 55 from the home of Gaius, Paul's great friend in Corinth, and hand delivered by a businesswoman named Phoebe who was a deacon in a suburban Corinthian congregation, the epistle to the Romans is Paul's most systematic summary of Christian theology. Major thought number 1 is found in 1:18--3:20. In this section, Paul poetically lamented our human plight: While we are not without our social graces, none of us retains the capacity to find our way to God, or connect with the deity in meaningful way. Therefore, according to major thought number 2 (3:21--8:39), God initiated a rescue mission that had its roots in Abraham and its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. While we are recipients of God's great grace, we continue to live in a compromised world where sin ravages our very hearts and minds. This is the cause of the dilemmas that Paul writes about in chapters 6 and 7. The former outlines the ways in which we can minimize the impact of God's grace in our lives by failing to appreciate divine love. Here the problems become psychological as we founder in our wavering will and enigmatic emotions.
These things make for great homiletic drama, and examples of wandering faith abound. But sermonic strategies for this passage must focus on the great point of it all. Paul is not reveling in human fickleness; he is instead appropriately obsessed with the strength of the divine initiative. We are saved and safe because God loves us without question or pause. This, of course, will be the theme of Paul's great testimony in Romans 8. But for now, the cinematic tension has been achieved.
In his book, Bringing Out the Best in People, Alan Loy McGinnis told about a business convention he attended one year as the featured motivational speaker. Part of the conference schedule involved awards for great efforts by company staff. One woman was brought to the podium to receive the "Employee of the Year" honors. Her story was truly touching, said McGinnis; through tears she noted her sad situation only a year before. Her marriage collapsed, her health was challenged, and financial concerns plagued her way. She felt she could not function as needed at her job, and made several overtures to her supervisor seeking termination. She even wrote several letters of resignation. But each time, Susan, her boss, delayed the process, telling her that she should just get through another day, that Susan wouldn't have hired her if she didn't have what it took, and that things would turn around soon. And, in fact, things had soon turned around, to the extent that now she was being recognized as the key employee of the entire organization.
Ignoring the other 3,000 people in the room and focusing her gaze solely on the woman to whom she owed her recovery and her place in the company, McGinnis said she spoke these words: "Susan, you believed in me even when I couldn't believe in myself!" That might well be the picture Paul is painting of us where, in the awards banquets of heaven, we owe our very existence to the one for whom the song "Jesus Loves Me" was written.
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
Matthew was a key pastor to the early Jewish Christian community. After Mark had written down the preaching of Peter about Jesus in the form we today know as the gospel that bears his name, Matthew adapted and expanded it for his increasingly marginalized community within the early church. While the community of Jesus' disciples had begun as a messianic sect among the descendents of Jacob, it was quickly outstripped in membership by the explosive Gentile mission that blazed through the Greco-Roman world. Some Jewish Christians were stalled in legalistic interpretations that prudishly denounced Gentile adaptations (see Galatians and Acts 15). Others were becoming disillusioned with Christianity, believing that Jesus offered little benefit over the old ways of Pharisaic piety (see Hebrews). In fact, one group of Jewish Christians would become known as the Ebionites, a rigid community of strict constructionist ritualists who would develop their own limited canon of scripture in an entirely opposite manner to that of Marcion.
While Matthew used about 90% of Mark's gospel materials in rewriting it as the document that would bear his name, it is clear that several guiding concerns are shaping his sermonic intents. First, he wants to make absolutely clear Jesus' direct link to the messianic prophecies of the Hebrew Bible. In fact, the first chapters of the gospel trace Jesus' early years as recapitulations of Israel's own history. Jesus copies Israel's miraculous existence and purpose (Matthew 1:18-25). He is saved from the murderous intents of a scheming king (ch. 2) who goes on to slaughter the innocents, just as Moses was delivered in Exodus 2 while many Israelite boys were slaughtered. Like the nation as a whole, Jesus is gathered out of Egypt (ch. 2). From his earliest days, he is dedicated to a divine mission (so the play on the words "Nazirite" and "Nazarene"). His ministry is set in motion by passing through waters (ch. 3), right at the same spot where Israel crossed the Jordan River in order to begin its witness to the nations from the promised land. Jesus also wanders the wilderness for "forty" days (ch. 4) before he can fully assume his adult responsibilities, mirroring Israel's traumatic years described in the book of Numbers.
Then, as Matthew brings these quick comparisons to a close, he relates that Jesus goes up on a mountain (Matthew 5:1), and from there restates and reinterprets the law or covenant mediated through Moses. What has come to be known as the "Sermon on the Mount" is deliberately cast by Matthew in a manner that identifies Jesus as the new Moses for a new age.
This becomes the theme for Matthew's gospel: Jesus is the messianic king who fulfills the intents and demands of the Mosaic covenant, and provides a way for people of all backgrounds (especially Jews) to enter into the emerging "kingdom of heaven." Matthew has a missionary heart that wants all groups and ethnicities to become Christian, but his passions are particularly stirred for those of his own race. So Matthew pays particular attention to those dimensions of Jesus' life and ministry that tie him to their religious heritage.
The major problem with such theology, however, was that Jesus seemed to be too nice. All of the prophets proclaimed that when the "Day of the Lord" would come, God's judgment on the nations would fall with swift vengeance. The coming of the Messiah was timed to intersect these events. When Messiah came, the earth would be purged of evil, a pious remnant would be spared, and the age of righteousness would be ushered in. This is the thought that undergirds the first section of today's gospel text. Jesus was misunderstood by his countrymen because he split the "Day of the Lord" in two. He initiated the kindness of the messianic kingdom in his first coming, but delayed the divine retribution on the nations until a second coming. That is why those in the Jewish community who looked for a vindictive and harsh Messiah were confused by the message of grace that Jesus portrayed.
This is also the background to the second section of the passage. The secret message of God, known only to the Son, is that God's gracious plan split the "Day of the Lord" in two, so that the kindness of God became the primary element seen by those who encountered Jesus. That was a great surprise to the Jews of Jesus' day who were looking for a fiery leader who would bring deliverance from the Romans. Jesus came as a pastor and a healer and a teacher, bringing comfort instead of condemnation, and encouragement rather than excommunication.
For religious insiders this was and remains a threat. It destroys the clear-cut divisions in society, aids and abets the criminal elements who are not immediately sentenced to hard time, and blurs the distinction between the righteous and the wicked. In other words, it does all those things that make the kingdom of heaven an act of God rather than a construct of humankind. It reeks of grace.
Of course, in the dark night of the soul which invades every person, this is the ultimate cry of the heart. That's why Jesus is still the Savior.
Application
The themes of dating and marriage might make a good platform on which to build today's message. Using the Genesis passage as an illustration of the drama of courtship, one can quickly build an analogy about the divine/human love relationship that is explored throughout scripture. Paul's words in Romans 7 can serve as a model of the waverings of our human hearts in the uncertainties of love and commitment, while Jesus' testimonies provide the encouragement we need to see the thing through, and know the great and final confidence on which Paul ends his wrestlings with doubt.
Alternative Application
Matthew 11:16-29, 25-30. Even though all of scripture is God's Word and profitable for preaching, there are some standout passages that beg to be treated with special reverence and significance. Such is Jesus' affirmation in Matthew 11:25-30. It takes little homiletic technique to lead the congregation into reflections on worry and weariness and woe that trouble all. Coupled with warm stories of hope and grace, and the winsome testimonies of the church recorded in its hymns and spiritual songs, Jesus' words are gospel writ large.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 45:10-17
Here is a woman who is given over to a new "Lord." The advice is clear, even curt. To paraphrase a favorite film of years gone by, it amounts to this. "Honey, you ain't in Kansas anymore!" The family and focus of old no longer applies in the courts of this new Lord. It's time to deal with the reality that is right in front of us. Certainly the psalm here could be read through twenty-first-century eyes, which take a dim view of women being portrayed as chattel. With that perspective, who could argue?
However, if one looks past the almost irresistible impulse to judge ancient text from contemporary context, there is a larger message to be heard. Could it be that each person, regardless of the path they take, comes to a point where it's important to acknowledge that things have changed? Whether it's the young virgin moving into the household of her new lord, or a Christian community moving into a new century, isn't it important to acknowledge that the landscape is different?
If the young woman who is now under the charge of a new lord continues to act as though her father and her family are her reality, it seems reasonable to assume that things may not go well for her. Similarly, a church community that has moved into a new cultural era needs to acknowledge that things have changed.
It's like the person who grew up in a rain forest. Living in an environment of constant moisture and dampness, it's natural to dress in a way that makes it more comfortable to live in that part of the world. But if one moves to the desert and continues to dress as though he was still in the rain forest, a few eyebrows might be raised in concern, or even mockery.
Yes, the call that emerges today is one for awareness. It's important for everyone to be aware of location, of context, and to not be lulled into thinking that where we used to be is where we are now. It's a word for us as individuals and certainly a word for us as Christian community.
