Life doesn't always hand us what we want when we want it. In those times there's the temptation to shortcut, or to do the unethical, or to run from the problem. It's then that we need to keep our eyes on our goals and keep plugging along, honestly and diligently.
A farmer's crops failed one year because of the drought. The previous year there had been too much rain, and it had flooded everything. The year before that he'd suffered due to an influx of imports. Discouraged, the farmer went fishing far off the beaten path along a wilderness stream. He caught a few trout, then lay on the bank to enjoy the sandwiches he had brought for lunch. A beaver appeared, dragging a branch. It chose a spot where the stream split off into a little rivulet, then placed the branch where the water rippled over rocks like a washboard. The fisherman could see the beaver was seeking to dam that smaller stream to form a quieter pond.
The beaver disappeared, returning with another branch which it put next to the first. A while later, another. But while the beaver was gone, the three branches washed away, carried off downstream by the current. "Bad place to build, Mr. Beaver," the farmer said. But the beaver returned and put a new branch in the spot, then a second, a third, a fourth. The fisherman was nervous for the beaver, knowing it could wash out any time.
A brown bear appeared, swatting trout near the fledgling dam. One fish eluded it, and when the bear clumsily swung its paw again, there went the four branches of the dam floating downstream. The farmer shook his head. "Fate is against you, Mr. Beaver," he said. The bear left. The beaver reappeared, placed a fresh branch where the first and subsequent ones had been. More branches followed. The farmer couldn't believe the beaver refused to give up, so he waded into the stream and dislodged the branches, which floated downstream. He returned to the bank. The beaver showed up, dragged a new branch into place, then another and another until finally the dam was secure and could withstand the water pressure. The moving stream became a quiet pool of backwaters. The farmer took his fishing rod and went home to decide if he would farm again.
Sometimes it feels as if things are going against us. The forces of nature. An accident. Illness or injury. Or other people participate in our undoing -- sometimes without even knowing it, but at other times with malicious intent. Many forces work to set us back or keep us from our goals. It can be depressing and discouraging, and at times it can make us feel like giving up. Or we may be tempted to employ deceit or shortcuts. It's at those times we must keep our sights on the goal, acting honestly and diligently, no matter what others are doing around us.
Today's scripture passage reflects conditions as they were 3,000 years ago. Let's flatly note that attitudes and treatment of women were very different than today. That said, let's not get hung up on those issues here. Instead let's look at what the scripture writers are lifting up to us as the key story thread here: Jacob's winning of his true love despite the many adversities placed in his path.
Jacob is advised by his father to seek out great-uncle Laban in a nearby land, which he does. So Jacob becomes a foreigner in Uncle Laban's country. As a foreigner, he hasn't got the rights a citizen might have had. He knows little of the rules, regulations, social customs and mores. No sooner does he arrive than he glimpses his distant cousin Rachel who has probably not yet reached puberty. It's love at first sight. Keep in mind that we know something of Jacob's background and his behavior patterns. In one incident he managed to get his very hungry, slower-witted, elder brother Esau to hand over his rights as firstborn son in exchange for a bowl of soup (Genesis 25:29-34). In another incident Jacob slips into his nearly-blind old father's tent and pretends to be Esau, in the process tricking their father into conferring the patriarch's blessing on him (Jacob) instead of on Esau (Genesis 27:18-27). So the Jacob we see in his growing-up years is deceptive, shrewd, a master of manipulation. Now, however, he is a stranger in a foreign land.
Uncle Laban has another daughter besides Rachel. Rachel is actually the younger of the two; Leah is the elder. They are close in age and look very much alike except that the elder Leah has very different eyes, perhaps a paler color or something else unique that is more obvious in daylight. But Jacob loves the younger Rachel. He asks Uncle Laban if he can have her hand when she achieves marriageable age. Uncle Laban says okay, but what is to be the dowry? (Jacob, you see, is broke. He hasn't had time to build up his own herd of sheep or goats yet, so he hasn't anything to offer.) Jacob, absolutely smitten with Rachel, says, "How about if I work tending your flocks for seven years, Uncle Laban?" Even by the standards of that day, Jacob's offer went far beyond generous. He might have gotten Laban to accept four or five years of service. But Jacob, being a newcomer to the country, is probably ignorant of what an adequate dowry might be (and he's madly in love), so he rushes in with an offer of seven years of service. Uncle Laban quickly says okay.
A couple of roadblocks so far. First, Jacob is a foreigner and lacks the rights of a citizen. Tied to that is his lack of knowledge of customs, which would have helped him negotiate the dowry more fairly. (He's like a gullible tourist at an Acapulco open-air marketplace. He doesn't know everything is negotiable and dickering is expected.) The big block, though, is that he's now got to work and wait seven years for Rachel.
Finally, the time arrives for nuptials week. Uncle Laban brings his daughter to Jacob's tent for the night. Now remember, the two sisters Leah and Rachel look very much alike except for their eyes. No doubt the daughter whom Uncle Laban has brought to Jacob's tent has her veil on. It is dark outside and dark in the tent. Jacob has probably tipped a few bottles of wine at the evening's nuptial festivities. To that we add the intrigue factor -- Uncle Laban's deception!
Morning arrives, Jacob awakens, and whom does he find lying beside him? Leah, the elder sister! Seven years of honest work when he might have contracted for less, and still Jacob doesn't get his true love Rachel. Confronted with his deceit, Laban offers a lame excuse. "Around this neck of the woods," he says, "we don't allow the younger sister to be married off before the elder sister." Laban is trying to snare Jacob in a you-didn't-know-the-custom trap. But the question remains about Laban's integrity: Why didn't he spell that out before, seven years earlier?
Uncle Laban has deceived his nephew, and it must be tempting for Jacob to consider deceiving Uncle Laban in return, paying back evil with evil (something Jesus would admonish us centuries later not to do). At the very least, Jacob must be considering eloping, asking Rachel to flee the country with him. But he does neither. Despite his personal history of deceit and manipulation, Jacob stays the true course. He says, "Uncle Laban, how can I gain your legitimate permission to wed your daughter Rachel?" He'll do it the right way even though he's been wronged.
Laban tells him he can have Rachel in marriage within a week -- if he'll agree to stay around after the wedding and do another seven years as herd foreman! Another seven years. It seems pretty unfair -- he's already done the agreed-upon seven years -- but at least Jacob can marry his beloved Rachel with her father's blessing. Jacob agrees to the terms. (Eventually, with the help of surrogate mothers, he fathers eleven children, one of whom is Joseph, the lad to whom he will give the famed coat of many colors.)
For all his manipulation and deceit earlier in life, Jacob has kept his eyes on the prize, his true love Rachel. He has done it with diligence and honesty even when everything seemed to be working against him. He faced the fact that life doesn't always give you what you want when you want it. Jacob was like that beaver. He kept at it, branch by branch by branch.
In Burlington, Vermont, there's an organization called Vermont Cares, a non-profit volunteer network created to help people with HIV/AIDS and their families and friends to get the physical, financial and emotional support they need. But there have been difficulties since its beginnings -- funding difficulties, prejudice, hatemongers and fearmongers stirring up the community against it, acts of vandalism. What appeared at first to be its death knell came in the spring of 1994 when an arsonist torched the building which housed the organization. The fire destroyed the building and practically everything in it, including the contents of the Vermont Cares offices: files, records, mailing lists of clients, contributors, volunteers, mementoes, pictures and histories which recorded the struggles of victims and their loved ones. It felt as if the dam had let go. But what wasn't washed away was the spirit, the tenacity, the integrity, the vision of the goal.
A 23-year-old volunteer named Wendy believed in the mission of Vermont Cares. She had been working as a restaurant hostess since finishing college, and only six months earlier had helped organize a free holiday dinner for the city's hungry and lonely at Thanksgiving. To feed those 400 people Wendy had had to learn to solicit donations, develop a plan of action, and recruit, train and coordinate 75 volunteers. Her idea for raising Vermont Cares from the ashes was to put on an auction outside City Hall. So she applied her newly-developed planning and promotion skills to the task of soliciting donations and recruiting volunteers from around the city. Plenty of roadblocks appeared: reluctance of some merchants to donate, bureaucratic snags with the required permits, telephone volunteers not showing up at the appointed times. But this young woman kept her eyes on the goal and moved ahead a branch at a time, building, building, building.
The day of the auction arrived and the auctioneer didn't show. Half the tents didn't arrive, and rain clouds threatened on the horizon. The sound system developed problems. But bidders showed up and huddled under what tents were available. Wendy's boyfriend Damon, a part-time disk jockey for weddings and parties, filled in as auctioneer. The hope was to raise $1,000. When the day's receipts were in, Vermont Cares had $4,000 to rise from the ashes.
We, too, are called to be like that young woman Wendy -- honest, hardworking, diligent -- as individuals and as congregations. This is real life, and we can count on trials and tribulations. There are bound to be setbacks, roadblocks, natural disasters, even personal betrayals that threaten to thwart our progress toward our goal. As with the beaver building the dam, the force of the water itself will at times wash away our work; the bear will smash it to smithereens; the mischievous fisherman will dismantle it.
But like the beaver building the dam, like Jacob pursuing Rachel, like Vermont Cares serving AIDS victims and their loved ones, we too, with God's help, will achieve our goals. We must remain faithful, keep our eyes on the prize, and be honest and diligent. May God add a blessing to our work.