Genesis 24-50

I’m pleased to report that I’m still having a blast with the reading. The stories are perhaps more entertaining to me now than ever, and I keep uncovering new details in the text that make me think.

Right off the bat in chapter 24 comes the story of how Isaac married Rebekah, and boy, I got a little angry both at the treatment of women and at myself for not noticing how Abraham’s people were hardly more than bride snatchers. See, Abraham tells his chief servant to get Isaac a wife from his old stomping grounds, so when the servant (whose name we never know because even though he’s the main character in the story he’s still just a servant) finds Rebekah and determines she’s the girl his master wants, he slaps bracelets on her arms and puts a ring in her nose without so much as asking her if she wants to come along. Of course, the servant takes the time to ask the girl’s parents if Isaac can have her as a wife, but the only decision Rebekah makes for herself is whether to stick around at home for ten days or leave the next morning for her new life.

I never thought of myself as much of a feminist, but the whole chapter I’m thinking, “Man, this whole situation sucks for Rebekah.” She’s out there, minding her own business when she shows kindness to a stranger and his camels, and just like that she’s out the door for wifehood. Sure, that sort of thing went on all the time – heck, it still goes on in a lot of places – but I value my self-determination so much that when I hear of some unfortunate soul forced into a life not of their choosing, my blood begins to boil. I suppose it’s not as if the servant grabbed her by the hair and carried her off, yet there’s no point where Rebekah explicitly says she’s a fan of the idea.

My reaction to this chapter shows just how much I’ve changed. It’s almost as if there’s a direct relationship between my familiarity with the text and my willingness to accept it. When I last studied Genesis, I read it as the literal and inerrant word of God; now I have to keep my criticism from boiling over into outright disdain.

There are several other small points to make – Isaac’s blessing works more like magic than prayer in chapter 27, Jacob deals with everyone deceitfully, the story of Rachel and Leah (chapter 29) sounds a good deal like a Jack tale (http://www.ibiblio.org/bawdy/folklore/tales.html) – but there’s one point I’d like to dwell on the most: I identify more with Joseph’s brothers than with Joseph.

Quick synopsis: Joseph is the second youngest of Jacob’s 12 sons, but he’s the oldest of Jacob’s favorite wife.  Jacob openly treats child #11 as the favorite son, which naturally irritates all the older sons. Throw in some bragging and a special coat, and you’ve got one pretty testy sibling rivalry that results in the gang of ten selling their brother to slave traders and telling dad little Joey is dead.

Once upon a time, I felt like a lot like Joseph: Praised, favored, and ready to take on the world. I had adults telling me I ought to be a lawyer, a preacher or even president. No matter what I chose to do with my life, God would do great things through me. I hope I wasn’t as big a brat as Joseph, who lorded it over his brothers…

Fast-forward to the present day: I’ve been floundering for the past several years, trying to forge a path to secure employment and financial independence. Multiple attempts at college have ended in disappointment. I look around and see friends making lives for themselves with homes and families, and I feel my heart clench with the same jealousy that must have seized those ten brothers. Thankfully, I’m still pretty good at managing my emotions, so I doubt I’ll be throwing anyone into a pit. Instead, I have to find a way to keep plugging along, mourn the past and prepare for the future.

Well, that’s enough of a pity party for now. One last thought: In chapter 41, God warns Pharaoh that seven years of plenty will precede seven years of famine, so Joseph suggests that Egypt save up during the time of prosperity. I’ve often thought of the lesson during the US budget wars – if only we’d saved up during the time of plenty!

It’s a shame I can’t go into as much detail as I’d like; otherwise I’d have monumental posts, and I’d rather not overwhelm you with analysis of minutiae – but if you’d like to hear more, say the word and I can lay down some serious script.

Take care, and sooner or later I'll get on track with posts on Fridays...