5 July A. D. 2026

Proper 9 Year A
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67; Psalm 45: 11-18; Romans 7:15-25a
+ Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

Collect
O God, you have taught us to keep all your commandments by loving you and our neighbor: Grant us the grace of your Holy Spirit, that we may be devoted to you with our whole heart, and united to one another with pure affection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Homily
My father, David, has described to me moments in his life when he felt lost and uncertain of how to make sense of things, or how make ends meet. When I asked him about how he and our mother got through the time when my brother and I were little, he says, “We prayed a lot.” And it turns out that when things felt really bleak, my father had a special prayer: “Lord, give me a sign, and give me the eyes to see the sign.” I asked him once, “Did it ever work dad?” In reply, he told me a story about a time when he and my mother were both in graduate school with us two little boys at home, and he didn’t know where the money was going to come from for groceries. At the time, he had a part-time job as organist at Highland Baptist Church, and dad says that after church one Sunday evening, one of the older gentlemen in the congregation—a good friend—walked up to him and handed him an envelope, saying with a kind embrace, “Don’t open it ‘til you get home.” When he opened it later, there was a hundred dollars in it. My father’s eyes get red and misty when he tells that story: it’s an enduring testament in his life the Lord’s providential love.

As I re-read the story of Abraham’s servant finding Rebekah at the well, I couldn’t help thinking that, in so many words, Abraham’s servant said, “Lord give me a sign, and give me the eyes to see the sign.” There are two nuances in this story that I find so wonderful, and the first is that the miracle occurs in the midst of ordinary things. The servant had to water his camels and his people. He himself was thirsty, in fact. So, he asks the Lord to use something they already had to do to show the way forward. I think we expect miracles to be breath-taking in their splendor, but this miracle happens in the midst of an absolutely common place encounter. I think sometimes we miss the revelation of God’s presence because we don’t expect to find anything miraculous in our seemingly ordinary lives. Abraham’s servant, like my father David, keep doing the next right thing in the midst of uncertainty and fear.

The second nuance in our passage from Genesis is Rebekah’s immediate response of hospitality, and her immediate decision to leave her family and circumstances behind. In her act of kindness toward the servant of Abraham, one gets the sense that in Rebekah we find a person of genuine character, lacking in either pretense or pride. The scripture also implies in her immediate acceptance of a way out of her current life, that being a person of genuine character had not always proved easy. If we make Rebekah, rather than the servant or his master, the center of the story, what we find is another person who perhaps was saying, “Lord, give me a sign, and give me the eyes to see the sign.” What if we imagine the moment when the servant puts the ring in her nose and the bracelets on her arms as an electrifying moment of answered prayer for Rebekah? Maybe Rebekah has been praying that she might find a way out of her life, a way into a new community where her genuine love and goodwill would be returned. It’s a strange detail, is it not, that at the end of the story, the editors of the book of Genesis tell us that not only did Isaac take Rebekah as his wife, but that he loved her and cherished her as a blessing in a time of deep grief. Rebekah found the love she hoped for; Isaac found new purpose in the midst of sorrow; Abraham was able to rest in peace.

You see, everyone in this story looks for some sign of hope that will continue to make striving to be faithful feel meaningful. And we all need some sign of providential love that will give us strength and help us to carry on through lives too often marked by uncertainty, fear, struggle, and grief. As the Apostle Paul points out, we’re so confused most of the time that we can’t make head nor tails of our own choices! St. Paul also points out what the sign is for all of humankind: the Lord Jesus. In the midst of the uncertainty, fear, and sorrow of the world, the Creator says, “Here’s my son. I’m in it with you. Nothing you experience is unknown to me. Nothing you feel is unfelt by me.” Through Jesus, let us hear the voice of the Father saying to anyone who will listen:

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

How can Jesus say, “my yoke is easy” and “my burden is light”? Didn’t he bear the greatest burden of all? Don’t we learn from Isaiah’s prophecy that upon him were laid the sins of all, and that by his stripes, we are healed?

We know from the Gospels that Jesus struggled with uncertainty, doubt, and sorrow. We also know from the Gospels that Jesus prayed a lot. Several times we find Jesus leaving the crowds and his friends in order to be alone with God. I think Jesus entered into daily communion with the Father through the bond of the Spirit. And in that communion, Jesus could see beyond this world, and the certainty of what he saw—a life where all tears and uncertainty and sorrow are washed away. In that way of knowing that needs no words, Jesus perceived that all empires will pass away, but the kingdom of heaven is and was and is to come. Therein lies our hope.

So no matter what uncertainties we may face in our lives, let us learn from Jesus that nothing can prevent the coming of God’s reign of justice and love. Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.