"Have I got a deal for you!" the shady diamond merchant says. "Look at these beautiful stones. Every one is worth a fortune, and I'm taking a loss by selling them to you at this price." The diamond buyer greedily agrees to the price, which is well below market value, hands over the money, and takes delivery of the diamonds. To his shock, he discovers that the diamonds in the bag are industrial grade, rather than gem quality, and are practically worthless. The buyer has fallen victim to a con game known as the "bait and switch." In this con, the seller shows the mark some valuable merchandise (the bait) but delivers something considerably less valuable (the switch). Jacob, a known con artist himself, may have been the first person on record to fall for the bait and switch con, at the hands of his cousin Laban. Jacob wanted to marry Rachel, but Laban tricked him into marrying Leah as well. Laban's motives are fairly straightforward. By transferring both daughters into Jacob's household, he was freed from having to care for them himself and could thus realize a larger profit in his undertakings. Also, by independently recasting Jacob's contract, Laban was able to wring another seven years of labor our of Jacob. Jacob was no stranger to the profit motive, having hoodwinked his brother Esau out of both his birthright and his father's blessing. In addition to being a somewhat humorous account of a trickster getting tricked, this story offers several lessons for people today. First, it always pays to read the fine print. Jacob should have familiarized himself with local marriage customs (unless Laban was making up the custom, which was entirely possible). Second, be careful about doing business with relatives. Just as Jacob had conned Isaac and Esau, so now Laban conned Jacob, proving that blood may be thicker than water, but business is business. Third, and most importantly, God can turn an apparently bad situation into something good. Jacob had no interest in marrying Leah, but God gave him more children through Leah than through Rachel, including the progenitors of the Jews (Judah) and the Levites (Levi).
A few years ago I read Dee Brown's Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, a history of the American West told from an Indian perspective. I'll never read another book on American history or watch another cowboy movie in the same way again. The book taught me that we have to read history from the perspective of the losers as well as the winners. It also reminded me that victory in battle does not equate with moral rectitude. The psalmist rejoices in the great things that God has done for Israel: protection of the ancestors from famine, deliverance from Egyptian slavery, and abundant blessings. Central to the national epic of Israel is the conquest of the land of Canaan and the displacement (at best) of the previous inhabitants. "To you I will give the land of Canaan as your portion for an inheritance," the psalmist reports God as saying. How are modern Christians to deal with such a statement? One might argue that the Canaanites were morally bankrupt and deserved to be overrun by "God's chosen people," but can we really justify genocide on that basis? It is likely that gradual integration and amalgamation is, overall, a more accurate historical model than sudden, almost total conquest, but that's how the story is presented in the book of Joshua. Actually, the gradual integration model is preferable from a modern ethical standpoint, because one can then argue that the adoption of Yahweh as the national god was the result of moral influence rather than armed force. One can hardly argue, though, that the displacement of Native Americans was a gradual integration, however, at least on the large scale, so I'm back to my moral dilemma. How do I address the point of view that says that God has taken land from one group of people and given it to another, more deserving group? I have no trouble accepting that the comfortable, free life that I now lead is the result of God's blessings, but I know that many people suffered great wrongs on this land before I was born. The way that I currently resolve this moral conundrum is to accept that the good things I have and the liberty I enjoy are indeed the gift of God. I don't accept, however, the notion that God has ever directed one group of people to take land from people who are already there, whether in the past or in the present. On the other hand, I have no problem with people emigrating to their own "promised lands," whether they be in Israel, the U.S., Australia, or anywhere else, because I don't think that any land belongs exclusively and in perpetuity to any single nation, ethnic group, or religion. There are of course many other, complicated ethical problems involved in this question, such as the issues of reparations, the right of return, and possibility of reversing recent forced evictions from territory. For now, I will just summarize by saying that people of faith need to seek a divine inheritance that is spiritual, intellectual, or practical in nature--religious liberty, freedom of speech, democracy--and does not involve real estate.
I was talking last week to a church member about a certain seminary whose leaders are taking it in a strongly Calvinist direction. This discussion reminded of talks between one of my seminary roommates, a staunch Calvinist, and myself, a non-Calvinist. Knowing that the sovereignty of God was a bedrock principle of Calvinist forms of Christianity, I used to tell him that the reason I wasn't a Calvinist was that Calvinists didn't take seriously enough the doctrine of God's sovereignty, because their definitions of sovereignty didn't allow enough room for human free will to operate. My comments were somewhat facetious and designed to rile up my roommate (successfully, I might add), but my idea of God's sovereignty today still incorporates the idea of a large measure of human free will. Can human free will coexist in a universe in which God is sovereign? Today's reading from Romans is one of the classic texts on predestination, another pillar of Calvinism. "For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son. . . . And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified." That people are predestined to follow God is not problematic to me. The problem I have is with the opposite contention, that some people are predestined not to follow God and, by implication, to be shut out of God's grace. That, to me, seems contrary to the nature of a God who loved the world enough to send God's Son. Are those who are born Jewish or Muslim or Hindu or animist therefore effectively shut out of God's grace, since few will ever convert to Christianity? I don't think so! God is at work in many ways in the world, and God's grace is available to everyone. Is God sovereign? Yes. Are our lives predestined? Yes, if by that we mean that God knows all and has a plan for each of us, but no, if we mean that we are operating under the confines of a kind of Greek fate, from which there is no escape. Both the Bible and human experience show us that humans have a large measure of free will, and our notion of God's sovereignty must be big enough to include the real world of human freedom.
Terrorists struck again in London this week, fortunately with many fewer casualties than their assault two weeks ago. Many of the terrorists would like to create an empire in which Islam was the official religion and Sharia was the law of the land. The medieval crusaders fought under the banner of the cross and hoped to establish the kingdom of God in the Middle East. These visions of the kingdom of God contrast sharply with picture that Jesus gives his followers in today's reading from Matthew. Jesus paints a picture of the kingdom that does not seek conquest, involves no violence, and in fact draws little attention to itself. The metaphors Jesus gives for the kingdom--a mustard seed, yeast, hidden treasure, a pearl, a net--are all inconspicuous, but they have great intrinsic value. A mustard seed grow into a bush that offers roosts for many birds. Yeast spreads throughout the loaf and causes it to rise. A hidden treasure and a valuable pearl offer wealth to the one who finds them. A net gathers many different types of fish together for use by fishermen. The kingdom of heaven today is not advanced by blowing up buses or dropping bombs on villages. It will not arrive with troops of an invading army or even with the advent of democracy or free trade. The kingdom of heaven is present wherever God's people are at work doing God's will. When someone offers food to a hungry child, God's kingdom spreads. When a group of people stands up for the rights of the homeless, God's kingdom grows. When people sacrifice their own privileges for the sake of those with greater need, the kingdom of God takes another step forward. The kingdom of God is all around us, and within us. It is not a piece of land or a building or a specific group of people. The kingdom of God is God's effective reign in the lives of people everywhere, for the benefit of others as well as ourselves.