Maybe we rush to exonerate Sarah and Abraham because we know that God blesses them, that they are role models of faith. But God doesn’t bless perfect people, because there are no perfect people. And sometimes what our biblical role models are modeling for us is what not to do, how not to be.
But it’s hard for us to hold seemingly contradictory truths in tension: That good people can do bad things, and bad people can do good things. That someone who knows oppression like Sarah can still abuse others. That the same person who is capable of beautiful kindness, like that which Abraham shows to the three strangers, is also capable of enabling horrible cruelty.
The phrase “there are no good cops” has been going around a lot these days, and I think people’s immediate rejection of this phrase stems from this same struggle to hold multiple things in tension. Many of us know a good person who is a police officer -- and therefore, we say, there are good cops! But what the phrase is actually saying is that even a good person -- someone who is kind and loving when off duty, who joined the police out of a desire to serve the community -- cannot be a good cop, because when they serve that role, serving unjust laws is part of their job description.
To be a police officer, they must uphold racist, ableist, sexist, queerphobic laws. They must be ready to show up to work and be told to put on riot gear, load up rubber bullets, and stand against peaceful protestors.
Likewise, Abraham and Sarah may well be good people -- that is to say, when at their best, they do good things. They are faithful; they are devoted to each other; they practice hospitality. But perhaps the phrase “no good cops” could be adapted to that ancient time, and we can say “There are no good patriarchs.” Abraham is a good man, but he is not good in his role as patriarch, as head of his household -- because to maintain that role, he must do unjust things. It’s in the job description. To be a patriarch, he must wield power over other human lives, must hold them as his property. He must have children, and that means raping an enslaved woman. He must maintain order, and that means casting Hagar and Ishmael away.
There are no good patriarchs.
- “No Good Patriarchs - Solidarity with Hagar,” a sermon on Genesis 21 by Avery Smith
[ID: a blue infographic reading “Using our unique identities to enrich our faith lives and communities” and offering info about this “courageous conversation with Grace” -- it’s on Zoom on Wednesday Dec 9, 6:30-8pm CST; “All are welcome -- no prior attendance or reading of the book required!” The book in question is Native by Kaitlin B. Curtice. / end ID]
Inviting all of you to attend a Zoom discussion i’m facilitating for my church tonight! The more folks come, the more there will be to discuss, since it’s about the unique things we each bring to the table. (Of course, you aren’t obligated to talk about yourself if you prefer not to -- you can just sit and listen if that’s more your style!)
Here’s the link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/83840083587
In Native, Kaitlin B. Curtice describes how she resists assimilation to bring her Potawatomi identity into her personal connection to God as well as into her church communities. In this Zoom discussion, we'll ponder how we all might do the same:
How do your unique identities, cultures, gifts, and other aspects of yourself enrich your connection to the Divine?
How might creating space for every person -- especially marginalized persons -- to bring their whole self into church challenge and transform our faith community?
Image description: two black squares with information about a Zoom discussion titled “The Facts about Fiction: Let’s talk about how novels, films, and other works of fiction — from Birth of a Nation and Gone with the Wind to Disney’s Pocahontas — help shape society’s perspective on race and other issues. Come as you are, no prior reading required.”
The event is on Thursday October 15 at 6:30pm Central Time, on Zoom (message me for the link or with any questions!). I’m facilitating discussion and it’s being held through my lgbt affirming church in Alabama.
All are absolutely welcome, but just some things to be aware of so you know whether you’ll feel comfortable at the event: Grace is a majority white church, so chances are nearly everyone attending will be white. There will be a clip shown from the horrifically antiblack 1915 movie Birth of a Nation, so be aware of that. Also I plan to talk about transphobia and homophobia as well as racism.
we are taught to interpret Esau’s trading of his birthright for a bowl of stew as impulsiveness, even (in Christian language) as a ‘weakness of the flesh.’ He chooses instant gratification over the farther off but far more valuable thing, and thus proves himself unworthy of his firstborn status and all it entails -- Abraham’s wealth and social power, but also Abraham’s relationship with God.
i don’t believe that.
Esau gave in to Jacob’s demand because he knew that Jacob would never have the means to compel Esau to make good on his word.
Jacob was physically weaker. Jacob was set to inherit the tiniest fragment of the wealth and resources that Esau would inherit. how on earth would Jacob ever wrest the birthright and the blessing he was owed from Esau?
Esau’s ‘crime’ here is less impulsiveness, and more a trust in the status quo. his world of patriarchy and primogeniture promised him his inheritance, whether he was a good man or bad, an honest man or a liar. he could tell his younger brother whatever Jacob wanted to hear, but down the road he could trust that their father would bestow the blessing on Esau anyway.
his reliance on the status quo is what allows Esau to hand over his birthright so easily -- because he knows that merely saying it’s Jacob’s now does not make it so.
Esau’s great failing is that he assumes that his culture’s will is God’s will.
the problem for Esau is that God does not play by human rules.
____________
in the Book of Genesis and throughout the rest of scripture, we see God working within the bounds of cultural assumptions and norms, rolling with the binary systems that human societies construct -- right up to the point where Xe doesn’t.
In The Soul of the Stranger: Reading God and Torah from a Transgender Perspective, Jewish scholar Joy Ladin focuses on the elements of gender inherent to the system of primogeniture that places the firstborn Esau over the secondborn Jacob in every way. To her, biblical maleness comes in different “flavors” -- the roles expected of a firstborn son are different from those assigned to non-firstborn sons. She says,
“Jacob and Esau are both male and are born almost simultaneously, but they are assigned at birth to very different gender roles. Because Esau emerges from the womb first, he is considered the firstborn, heir not only to Isaac’s worldly possessions but also to the relationship with God that Isaac inherited from his father, Abraham. Though Jacob is born holding onto his brother’s heel, he is considered the second-born, expected to accept the authority of his older brother, who, after their father’s death, will be the head of the family.
Like the gender binary, this law of inheritance, called ‘primogeniture,’ creates a lifelong, life-determining binary division between males who are and those who aren’t firstborn sons. And like the gender binary, primogeniture turns biology, in this case birth order, into destiny. The way male children are raised, the roles they are assigned, and the futures toward which they are steered are determined by whether they are or aren’t firstborn sons.” (p. 36)
Esau has grown up understanding that his inheritance is his destiny. It’s what he’s been born for, what he’s been raised for, what he is entitled to. Why would he believe that he would ever have to make good on his silly promise to Jacob to hand over that destiny? It’s set in stone, inviolable.
at least it is in the eyes of men. but not to God.
“If God were committed to the gender binary idea that people are unchangeably defined by the gender roles we are assigned at birth, then either Esau would have been destined to inherit Isaac’s relationship with God, or Jacob would have been born first. But as God reveals to Rebekah before the twins are born, God intends for the younger brother to usurp the elder, prenatally linking God’s blessing to trans experience. (Ladin, pp. 37-38)
in the ancient past and in the present day, countless roles get assigned to us as soon as -- or even before -- we exist the womb. biology is presumed destiny in so many ways: our gender, our race, the class and geopolitical location and family into which we are born, supposedly map out what our personalities will be, how our lives will go. and certainly these things do shape us, both by nature and nurture -- generational traumas come packed into our very cells, while our environment and how others treat us based on our assigned roles impact how we perceive ourselves and the world around us.
but even so, even so, biology is not destiny. especially not if God has any say in the matter.
for God is the great binary breaker, no respecter of persons or prejudices, unbeholden to the status quo. indeed, God almost seems to delight in upending our assumptions about who is blessed. secondborn sons and eunuchs, women and disabled persons, impoverished persons and disenfranchised peoples -- these are the ones whom God selects, again and again, to be recipients and agents of divine blessing. “blessed are the poor;” “the last shall be first.”
Esau assumes that biology, his status assigned based on birth order, is destiny. he does not fear his younger brother, who is rendered powerless by their culture to claim what he is promised in a moment of hunger. and probably this is safer for Jacob -- because when Esau does finally realize, too late, that Jacob is a real threat, Esau becomes murderously angry.
when Isaac is duped into giving Jacob his blessing after all, Jacob cannot stick around to claim the wealth and status that comes with it -- he must flee, or die under Esau’s hand.
i wonder if some of the violence we see in our time, and across every time and place, stems from the same kind of rage and fear that Esau experiences:
the rage of the ones who are raised to believe the world belongs to them, that they are entitled to certain blessings and privileges, only for the truth to pounce on them unexpectedly -- the shocking truth that biology is not destiny, that they are not inherently superior, that what they thought would be theirs without question might could be snatched from them after all.
the divine right to rule. manifest destiny. the ‘white man’s burden.’
white men who assume they are entitled to white women, so that the mere thought of a Black man winning a woman’s heart is enough to incite them to brutality.
white women who understand that the police are their personal body guards, to call down upon the bodies of Black adults and even Black children on a whim -- and are indignant in the rare circumstance that they are told otherwise.
men and white people who expect the best jobs and properties to go to them, so that anyone else advancing over them seems an appalling injustice.
cis women who perceive trans women as “invading their spaces;” cishet couples who think LGBTQ/queer couples ruin “the sanctity of marriage;” persons who are accustomed to being accommodated without even realizing it sneering at “safe spaces” and trigger warnings....
and on and on.
Esau had every reason to assume that his biology determined his destiny -- that he could make an impulsive promise, make a big mistake, and everything would still turn out in his favor. he was born into a world that told him so every day -- even that God sanctioned these human assumptions and systems. But God does not.
“God’s disruptions of gender in these stories make it clear that even the gender roles that matter most to human beings are not sacred to God. ...God in the Torah uses gender, but is not bound by it. On the one hand, God depends on gender to transmit the covenant across time and space, so that even after hundreds of generations, Jews will still see themselves as children of Abraham. On the other hand, God disrupts gender as a way of making God’s power and presence known. ...In these stories, faithfulness to gender has little to do with faithfulness to God. In fact, God counts on the fact that people are not bound by gender roles. The covenant with Abraham is founded on Abraham, Sarah, and Jacob’s embrace of trans experience: their willingness to live outside the gender roles they were born to and become the kinds of people they are not supposed to be.” (Ladin, pp. 57-58)
Faithfulness to human constructs has little to do with faithfulness to God. God blesses us when we can imagine beyond the narrative we are assigned -- as Jacob does in this story where he demands a birthright the world does not intend for him....and as Esau eventually does.
In Genesis 33, Esau catches up to Jacob after decades apart -- and Jacob expects violence. He sends gifts of livestock to Esau and conceals his most cherished family at the back of his huge household. But to his bewilderment, Esau is no longer murderously angry at having “lost” what he grew up assuming he was entitled to -- he rushes to his brother, throws his arms around Jacob’s neck, and weeps.
Esau was raised believing that he would own everything, and his brother nothing -- that Jacob would be one of many members of Esau’s household, subservient to him. But now, he does not even feel entitled to the livestock that Jacob offers him: “I already have plenty, my brother. Keep what’s yours.”
Jacob is relieved by this unexpected reconciliation, exclaiming to Esau that “Seeing your face is like seeing God’s face, since you’ve accepted me so warmly!” He never expected Esau to accept what Jacob has known all along -- that biology is not destiny; that neither of them are bound to human constructs like birthright; that they can live a different way than the way prescribed to them, one in which both of them thrive.
___________
now, this story is by no means perfect. Jacob was able to imagine bigger for himself, to escape the destiny assigned to him -- but he does not imagine big enough. he does not use his new station to liberate others.
he becomes a patriarch -- assimilates into patriarchy and the power to own other human beings, to rule over every member of his household, rather than challenging the whole system that once oppressed him. i am reminded of trans persons, persons of color, women, who once they manage to acquire power for themselves never use it to help their fellow marginalized persons up. they land positions of power and use that power to oppress others as they were once oppressed, rather than using it to try to forge a new, better system for all.
Jacob the second-born becomes Jacob the patriarch. his household will be fraught with all the woes that come with this system that stifles all within it. his wives will hate each other and battle each other for what little power they can grasp. his sons will do the same, subjecting the younger Joseph to violence when, like Jacob, this little sibling dares to dream of being something greater than what his society assigns him.
what if Jacob could have imagined bigger? what if he had used his one fragment of shining clarity about how patriarchy and primogeniture stifled his true self to empower others, not only himself?
what if we could imagine bigger? what new and beautiful world could we build?
Avery shares their poem about how tasks as mundane as preparing tea can become a prayer. They were inspired to write this poem by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg's discussion of how Jewish law fosters mindfulness and orients a person towards God.
Text of the poem:
preparing tea is its own kind of prayer –
one that heat and water pray for you.
the kettle’s keening. laughter bubbling up. the steady sigh of water
as it folds into the cup.
see the steam raise its arms to embrace
the sunlight peering in through kitchen window?
those swaying arms enact a psalm of praise
clear as voice or timbrel, or clapping trees of the field.
see how the water blushes, rich and brown,
as the sachet swirls within?
likewise are we saturated through
with Spirit when we open to Her dance.
each mundane task, each daily chore or act
overflows with blessing.
the whole world thrums with gratitude for God
Who permeates the stream, the steam, the sunbeam’s heat –
Who was with the leaves when they unfurled from the twig
to taste the pulse of the earth, its breath and light;
Who was with them when a hand reached up and plucked,
and Who is with them still, as they swirl within the cup.
Avery invites us to reimagine our conceptions of heaven from an unchanging expanse of cloud to a vibrant place full of diversity and growth. How do you imagine heaven? They share a poem they wrote called "Heaven is home to quick green things," text below:
i hope Your kin(g)dom’s halls are walled
with tree trunks
with canopies for roofs – in shades of green
never seen before by human eyes
and veritable riots of flowers, fruits,
everywhere i look! – and, when i need
a rest from color after vibrant color,
i hope the leafy canopy gives way
to black
so deep
i almost believe
Your whole infinity
could curl up in its blue-black folds, with room
to spare for all your nursing galaxies.
…
i’ve never understood
how they can read Your declaration “Good!
very Good!” – read how
You would not cease from making till You stood
amidst a million billion nebulae
that each great downdraft of Your mighty wings
sent aswirl with dust and heat that coalesced
into stars and planets, split again
into seas and lands, cells, plants, and only then
only then did You rest
as the milky way jingled on Your wrist –
they read of this
and then they paint Your heaven sterile white
as far as eye can see!
unbroken vault of
neutralizing light
devoid of all the variegating shades
and creatures that You made with Your own breath
and eons of delight.
…
i hope your kin(g)dom’s halls
are loud with birdsong
and prowling with cats, and rippling with fishes
i hope new life-forms bud a thousandfold
instead of shrinking down to human beings
and angels stock-still in one solemn mass;
for unity need not require extinction –
and You,
great bounty-bringer,
atom-splicer,
dance-delighter,
You
look lovelier when draped in gauzy rainbow,
a diadem of ivy laced with stars
and shadows silking over You like feathers –
and humankind alone, even backed by angels
cannot think of enough new ways to praise You…
so let the birds of the air, the slinking things,
the fish of the sea and seeds that split the dirt
join in on the praise of You that words don’t cover
and that rings clearer
through brown boughs than spotless white.
*wake up suddenly at 2am, churn out nearly an entire sermon by 4am, collapse back into bed and sleep till 10:30am, and then finish up & record me preaching the damn thing by 3pm while, yes, holding my hands Like That for the majority of the video oops
We believe in one Triune God, Creator of all things.
In that Beginning shared in Genesis,
She brooded over watery darkness, as in the womb,
and gave birth to Creation in all its remarkable diversity —
including the day and night, and the various shades of dawn and dusk between;
including the sea and land, and the shores at which they meet;
including the plants and all kinds of animals, and beyond them
— the mollusks and fungi, and unicellular life…
and, finally, including human beings
with our vast diversity of mind and body
all crafted in the divine image.
We believe in one Triune God, Redeemer of humanity,
who came to Abraham and Sarah, Hagar and Ishmael,
Jacob and Rachel and Joseph;
who came to Moses — a stranger in a strange land, unsure of where he belonged —
and liberated the Hebrew people from their bondage;
and who, in the Person of Jesus Christ,
entered Creation to liberate all peoples from all forms of bondage,
to redeem us even from sin, even from death itself.
We believe in one Triune God, Sustainer of all things,
in whom we live, and move, and have our being
whose Spirit breathes life back into parched lands and withered hearts,
and pulls open every door we would keep shut,
sweeps away every line we draw in the sand.
