Jacob’s Dream
Ary de Vois, 1660 - 1680
Sunday, July 19, 2026
Jacob’s Dream at Bethel
Sunday 19 July 2026
Jacob's ladder
Thursday, July 16, 2026
in a certain place
What is sacred ground? What makes a place holy? How will we know it? Jacob didn’t know it, not until he had a dream. And in the dream he had a promise. Then he woke up, I did not know this was holy ground, and then he made a monument to his discovery, or rather, to its holiness.
We can imagine him running in from stage left, looking about distractedly, and then, finally, sleep overcoming him, laying down his head upon a stone. A stone that in the morning was transformed into a monument. This certain place, as the story calls it, that Jacob did not recognize, in the night set itself apart.
Angels, messengers of God, communicated between heaven and earth, and then the LORD was right beside him.
The promise he heard, the promise made to him, was the promise that Abraham, his father, and Isaac had received before him. It has been remade. It is new, in his hands, and old again.
Jacob has received the promise - from God. Not only the blessing stolen from his father. Now he has been chosen, like it or not, and he goes on from this place a man newly charged with a mission. He must carry forward, what he has received alone, into a new beginning, a new life.
He came into this place alone, and here he heard God. He was able to hear him, now. He is no longer son or brother, he is not yet husband or father. He is just Jacob, alone, before God.
And it is in this place, this in between place, on his journey from one place to another, one state to another, from son and brother to husband and father, that he is alone enough to listen.
When are we listening? When are we in a holy place? When are we on sacred ground?
There are plenty of times I know to touch stone, to call back a memory of a special place or person, and those times and places I cherish. I hope to experience them again soon. But the holy place is different: it is where we experience something of the sacred mystery that is God.
This is not necessarily a big deal, with trumpets, or a certificate. It may be in an otherwise insignificant place, or a place we did not know. Jacob said, “I did not know this was holy ground.” But now he does. Something changed. In him. In what he experienced. In what was there all along.
It may have been there all along, for you or me. But we did not know it. And that’s okay.
The spirit comes to us. We seek holiness. We do. We seek to do God’s will. Or an experience. Or just to be better today so we can be better tomorrow, than we were yesterday.
Where will we find sacred ground? Or is that the right question? When will it find us?
And where will we go from there?
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following Your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that, if I do this, You will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone. Amen.
– Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude, page 79. (https://sacredpoetryworkshop.com/a-prayer-of-unknowing-by-thomas-merton/)
Tuesday, July 7, 2026
Brawling Brothers
Centuries after the time of Abraham and Sarah, and even centuries after the time of Moses and Miriam, Hannah went to the Lord to pray. She was barren, unlike her rival wife Peninnah, and wanted a child. She prayed silently, moving her lips, and the priest Eli, at first confronting her for this strange behavior, heard her plea and assured her of God’s mercy. Indeed, in due course, a child was on its way.
She, following a vow she had made, presented her child to Eli to be raised as his helper – and as it turned out, his successor.
Here is part of what she prayed as she rejoiced in her expectancy:
And Hannah prayed, and said, My heart rejoiceth in the Lord, mine horn is exalted in the Lord: my mouth is enlarged over mine enemies; because I rejoice in thy salvation.
There is none holy as the Lord: for there is none beside thee: neither is there any rock like our God.
Talk no more so exceeding proudly; let not arrogancy come out of your mouth: for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed.
The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich: he bringeth low, and lifteth up.
He will keep the feet of his saints, and the wicked shall be silent in darkness; for by strength shall no man prevail.
1 Samuel 2:1-3, 7, 9 (King James Version)
Sound familiar? In her praise and exultation, Hannah hearkened back to the joy of childless women made fertile in the past: from Sarah and Rebekah to Rachel, and echoes on through time, from Miriam to Hannah, to Elizabeth, cousin of the Virgin Mary. (And the song Mary sang after visiting Elizabeth.)
And the prayer of Hannah echoed the song of Miriam, sister of Moses, at the Red Sea:
Then the prophet Miriam, Aaron’s sister, took a tambourine in her hand, and all the women went out after her with tambourines and with dancing. And Miriam sang to them: “Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.”
Exodus 15:20-21
All these women, from Sarah to Elizabeth, form a sisterhood that is powerful. God over and over again overturns human expectation. The younger is preferred to the older; and the weak to the strong. It is all in fulfillment not of human purpose but that of God.
So you see there is more to the story of Isaac and Rebekah than just a sandwich generation, between their parents and their sons. Isaac had prayed, Rebekah had inquired of the Lord, and God answered them.
Because of them, of their pursuance of God’s fruitfulness, the promise and the covenant continued. God would make of their descendants a mighty nation, a nation of priests to serve their God, and all nations would be blessed in them. Them too.
And then there are their sons. Their vexatious children, contending from inside the womb and on into adulthood. Our Scripture portion for this morning only goes so far, in what it gives of their story. Later, spoiler alert! Esau in his anger vowing to kill his brother, is overheard by their mother, and Rebekah persuades Isaac to go away for a while. He goes east of Canaan, east of Edom, and back to ancestral Harran.
God has a purpose in this exile – as in so many other occasions. When he brings back Jacob with his newly acquired household, it is to meet Esau in reconciliation. The brothers embrace when they meet.
That is long after the story of ‘that red stuff’ and the birthright scorn.
Today we see the consequences emerging of his impulsive, brash, brusque, rude as rude can be, disregard of his heritage - and duty.
Esau will not be the one to bear the promise and the mission. It was Abraham and not Lot, Isaac and not Ishmael, so it will be Jacob and not Esau, that God chooses - not of their virtue but of his will.
What will happen when these boys grow up? Will the two nations continue to strive, one east, one west, of the Jordan River? And what in our own day will come of contending nations, and brash brothers?
Will we do better than these, God’s chosen ones, who in their folly, jealousy, pride and humanness, end up furthering his mysterious purpose?
The triumph of Rebekah was a strange joy, unearthly in its origin, and whether or not she saw the fulfillment of her own hopes is an open question. We see, from this distance, hope in the story, but wonder:
Do the people in the midst of the story have hope in the promise, or are they despairing in the desert? Only faith can make the difference.
And the providence of God – sometimes shown by human hand. In our own day, there are people wandering in the desert, or across seas, seeking a future with hope, in a land that God may show them.
*****
But wait, there’s more: after today’s reading, there is a whole chapter, a big chapter. It is between this week’s scripture portion, and next week’s. Chapter 27 of Genesis relates the astonishing story of how Esau, who had already bargained away his birthright for “some of that red stuff” loses the blessing of his father as well.
And when Isaac was old, and his eyes were dim (so that he could not see) he called Esau his eldest son, and said unto him, My son. And he answered him, I am here. Then he said, Behold, I am now old, and know not the day of my death. Wherefore now, I pray thee take thine instruments, thy quiver and thy bow, and get thee to the field, that thou mayest take me some venison. Then make me savory meat, such as I love, and bring it me that I may eat, and that my soul may bless thee, before I die.
Genesis 27:1-4 (Geneva Bible, 1599)
At this Esau finally wakes up enough to realize there is a problem and becomes very angry, but Rebecca has a solution for that too. She sends her favored son off to the land of his ancestors to find a wife.
As she explains to her husband, she’s tired of these Hittite women (Esau married two) and wants her son to marry from among his own kin from back home.
While she had been found for Isaac by Abraham’s servant, her son will discover for himself his bride.
It is on the outward journey that Jacob stops and dreams the dream of the ladder that we will hear about next Sunday.
Eventually, after long years of labor in the service of his bride's brother, he will return, unsure how he will be received by his own brother. He will encounter him by a brook on his way home.
Sundays and Seasons [https://members.sundaysandseasons.com/Home/DayResources] offers some resources on the readings of the day, including this comment on Genesis 25:19-34
The lectionary now cites four episodes in the story of Jacob-Israel. Again, the Lord intervened in nature so that the barren Rebekah conceived and bore Isaac twin sons. Although Esau was first born, the younger son Jacob inherited God’s blessing, and thus once again the cultural expectation of primogeniture was thwarted with the Lord’s blessing. This legend was important for the eighth-century Israelites, whose very survival was threatened by enemy conquest. Christians have enjoyed the details of these folk tales and have seen in them illustrations that God’s promises are kept.
And on the Response (Psalm 119:105-112):
As if we are Rebekah, struggling through childbirth; as if we are Esau, close to starvation; as if we are Jacob, leaping over the law: we sing Psalm 119:105-112. We are severely afflicted, but God gives us life. We join with Jacob to follow the law of the Lord.
Kathryn Z. Johnston. In the Lectionary: July 12, Ordinary15a. (Genesis 25:19-34). The Christian Century. July 2026. 25.
Sunday, July 5, 2026
The Marriage of Isaac and Rebekah
https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/en/collection/object/Isaac-and-Rebecca-Known-as-The-Jewish-Bride--019c1265e6dbf108d4587ab2b7c02c66
Sunday 5 July 2026
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| Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67 Psalm 45: 11-18 or Song of Solomon 2:8-13 Romans 7:15-25a Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 |
