This is the Place

Text: Genesis 28:10-22
Other texts: Psalm 139

Jacob was in trouble. He had not been a good brother to his twin brother Esau. Esau was out to get Jacob, and for good reason. Jacob had cheated Esau. Twice. First Jacob had cheated him of his birthright, the right as first born to inherit. Then Jacob cheated him of his father’s blessing. There was very little to like about Jacob and not much to like.

When we meet Jacob in the first reading today, he is on the run. Not a surprise, since Esau had promised himself that he would kill Jacob when the time was right. And as far as Esau was concerned, and as far as Jacob feared, the sooner the better.

Jacob is pretty sure how he stands with his brother at the moment. He is not so sure how he stands with God. Jacob is of the first family, so to speak. His father was Isaac and his grandfather was Abraham, the patriarchs. God was their God and they were his people, but Jacob wasn’t so sure he was in included in that deal, seeing as how he had been such a jerk to his family. Maybe he wondered whether he was on God’s side, and whether God was on his. Maybe he wondered whether God was his God, too, anymore.

So imagine his surprise when God comes to meet him and have a chat. Now, you might say, “God didn’t really come to meet him. That was just a dream.” But Jacob and everybody else up until recently would have known that a dream was a communication channel just as true as any. A dream was a way, among many other ways, for God to talk to Jacob.

God doesn’t wait for Jacob to introduce himself, or to apologize for his misdeeds, or in fact to open his mouth. God just flat out tells Jacob that the deal God made with Abraham and Isaac still stands. God is still going to make that little nomadic tribe a great people. They will still be God’s people, and they will be as many as the grains of dust on the earth, and they will spread to all lands. That was God’s promise and that still is God’s promise, God says. And furthermore—and this is the shocking part—it is all going to happen through Jacob. Old sleazy Jacob is going to be the man who will be the ancestor to all these people. Jacob was still God’s person.

God makes Jacob eight promises in this passage. Five of them are a reiteration of God original promise: “I will give you land and offspring.” And three of them have to do with God’s presence: “I will be with you.”

Wow! says Jacob. Awesome! This is the place.

Probably--I’m guessing here—-you didn’t cheat your brother out of his birthright or steal his blessing from your dad. But that doesn’t mean you have never regretted something you have done. Maybe even really regretted it. Maybe even have wondered whether you have done something cosmically bad. As, I think, Jacob wondered.

And still, God was with him. God was right there at his side. The promises God made to Jacob had nothing at all to do with Jacob saying he was sorry, or even being sorry. It had nothing to do with penance and confession and repentance. Jacob in this story did nothing. Just took a nap. God did all the work. Things that we mind a lot God doesn’t seem to care much about.

I will be with you, says God. I won’t leave you until I’ve done what I’ve promised, says God. Note that there is not much Jacob can do to affect God’s presence or not. God does not promise to hang around until Jacob has done such and such a thing. God is in for the long haul, it seems.

God hanging around with us can sometimes be a two-edged sword. There is a wonderful children’s book that some of you might know called “The Runaway Bunny” by Margaret Wise Brown.

In the story, a little bunny plans to run away from home. He tells his mother how he plans to escape. I will become a rock high on a mountain, he says. “If you become a rock on the mountain high above me,” said his mother, “I  will be a mountain climber, and I will climb to where you are.

“If you become a mountain climber,” said the little bunny, “ I will be a crocus in a hidden garden.” “If you become a crocus in a hidden garden,” said his mother, “I will be a gardener. And I will find you.”

“If you are a gardener and find me,” said the little bunny, “ I will be a bird and fly away from you.” “If you become a bird and fly away from me,” said his mother, “I will be a tree that you come home to.”

This sounds to me a lot like Psalm 139.

O LORD, you have searched me and known me. … Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in the underworld, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.

There is no place we can go in which God is not present. No place we can go in which God is unable to find us. No place we can go in which God will lose track of us. Lose interest in us. Nothing we can become that will convince God to give up the search.

When I hear this psalm, I am grateful for God’s presence among us. I’m grateful that God will be with me no matter what. But there is another way to look at this psalm. And in that way, God sticks to us whether we like it or not, whether or not we want God to. I find this psalm comforting. But a colleague of mine finds it oppressive.

I will never leave you alone, says God. Meaning in one way: God will never abandon us. Or meaning in the second way: God will never free us. In one way, we will never have to walk alone. In the other way, we will never be allowed to walk alone. To be parental: does God protect us or confine us? This is not a new question.

God with us. God’s presence is not something inert, like a mist or a spell that surrounds us. Not like a shield or an aura. God’s presence is something that demands our attention. It is an invitation. In the story of Jacob, God’s presence moved Jacob to awe and praise, and God’s promise moved Jacob to promise in return.

Sometimes like the bunny, and like Jacob, and like lots of other people in the Bible, we are of two minds about God. But the bunny, and Jacob, can only be of two minds because they know that they are not alone. In the bunny’s case, his mom is faithful. The bunny can flee because he knows that his mother will always and without fail come to find him. In Jacobs, and ours, God is faithful. No matter what Jacob, or we, do to flee God, God will always and without fail come to find us.

Wrestling with God has a long tradition, one that Jacob also is part of. The relationship between us and God does not always go smoothly, for one reason or another. Sometimes we resent God’s interference and bossiness. And sometimes we welcome God’s comfort and guidance. And sometimes we are shy with God, or embarrassed. And sometimes confident and easy going.

But fighting with God or embracing God are not opposites. The opposite of both fighting and embracing God is no God at all. An aloof or uninterested or departed God. What Jacob fears is that God is gone forever. That God is no longer his God. That he will never embrace nor wrestle with God.

But what he finds, what we find, what God promises Jacob and promise us, is that God is with us. God is our God. We are God’s people. God is around wherever we are. Everyplace is an awesome place.

It doesn’t matter whether you are in the desert or at home, with pillow of rock or of feathers, in anguish or in joy, in a snit or in gratitude, in confidence or in disarray, in faith or in doubt. God is here.