“I Did Not Know It”

When you drive along the freeway, you’ve perhaps noticed graffiti on overpasses and walls. And when you go hiking, you often come across little piles of stones that someone has carefully stacked. People seem to have a natural desire to leave their mark on a place, whether it’s initials carved into a tree or a selfie posted for everyone to see. Wherever we go, we want to leave some trace that says, “I was here.”

Today we meet Jacob once again. In Jacob’s world, a father’s blessing was far more than kind words or good wishes. Once spoken, it could not be taken back. It carried real authority. It shaped the future. Who would become the head of the family? Who would receive the double inheritance? Who would carry on God’s covenant promise? All of this rested on the words that came from a father’s mouth. So, the blessing naturally belonged to Esau, the firstborn son.

But Jacob could not wait his turn.  You may remember the story. First, Jacob used his cunning to take his brother’s birthright for a bowl of stew. But that wasn’t the end of it. Years later, when Isaac was old and nearly blind, Jacob dressed himself in his brother’s clothes and covered his arms with goatskins so that he would feel like Esau. He deceived his own father and stole the blessing as well.

When Esau found out what had happened, he was furious. He swore that he would kill his brother. Seeing the danger, Isaac called Jacob and sent him away to his uncle Laban’s house. Before Jacob left, Isaac blessed him with these words:“May God Almighty bless you and make you fruitful and numerous, that you may become a company of peoples.  May he give to you the blessing of Abraham…”. (Genesis 28:3-4)

A blessing gained by deceiving both his brother and his father. But Isaac’s words were far more than a farewell. They were the blessing of an old father, nearly blind, spoken with everything he had left. So Jacob set out on his journey alone with nothing. Behind him was an angry brother who wanted him dead. Ahead of him lay an unknown land. It must have been a frightening journey.

When I was in primary school, my younger sister and I once walked to my aunt’s house by ourselves. We didn’t really know the way. I still remember how frightened I felt. I think I was about Year Two. Looking back now, I don’t know why that journey seemed so long, but to a little child it felt like a very long road. Perhaps Jacob felt something like that. He kept walking. Step after step until night fell.

He took a stone for a pillow and lay down. Fear and exhaustion tangled together, and Jacob fell asleep. But that night, Jacob dreamed. A ladder stood on the earth, its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And there, at the top, stood the Lord. Then the Lord spoke: Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land, for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” Pause

Jacob woke up in wonder and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.” Jacob got up. He took the stone he had used as a pillow and set it up as a pillar. He poured oil over it and named the place. “Bethel.” The house of God. A name that would follow him for the rest of his life. The God of Abraham and Isaac had now become his God. In worship, Jacob responded to the God who had come looking for him.

God can meet us anywhere. The whole earth belongs to him. And yet, some places become particularly precious to us. Not because they are holier than any other place, but because they hold the stories of God’s encounters with us.

This church is one of those places. Generations have gathered here, and God has met us. This is a community of baptism. Here we have entrusted loved ones to God’s care. Here we have wept together, laughed together, gathered around the Lord’s table. Over the years, this place has carried those stories. That is why this is Bethel for us. Just as it was for Jacob.

Today’s Gospel also takes us to a particular place. This time, it is a field. Jesus tells a story about a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone slept, an enemy came and secretly sowed weeds among the wheat.

When the servants discovered them, they asked, “Do you want us to go and pull them up?” It isn’t a strange question. When we see something harmful, our instinct is to remove it as quickly as possible. But the master says, “No. Let them grow together.” Why? Because in pulling up the weeds, they might also uproot the wheat. pause

Look carefully. The master never gave the servants the authority to decide who was wheat and who was weeds. That responsibility remained with the master alone. And yet, how often do we reach for the very tool the master withheld? We want to walk the rows ourselves, deciding which stalks to keep and which to tear out. But that is not God’s way. God’s way is to let them grow together until the harvest.

Jesus then tells another story. A man is ploughing a field when he comes across a hidden treasure. He wasn’t looking for it. He just found it while working the field. So he sells everything he has and buys that field. Notice this. He sells everything with joy. It is not a loss. Because what he has found is worth far more than everything he owns.

This time, it is a merchant searching for fine pearls. For years he has been looking for one of great value. At last, he finds it. And just like the first man, he sells everything he has and buys it.

Now place these two parables side by side. One found the treasure unexpectedly. The other searched for years before he found the pearl. But both found it in an unexpected place. And both did exactly the same thing. They gave up everything. We are tempted to call that sacrifice. But Jesus never does. They lost nothing. Because what they found was greater than everything they gave away.

Both men saw what no one else could see. That is what changes in us too. The gospel does not simply repeat back what we already believe. It opens our eyes. It helps us see familiar things in a new way, notice what we have overlooked, and question what we have always taken for granted.

So, let me leave you with this. Dear sisters and brothers, don’t let today’s sermon disappear over a cup of coffee after the service. Carry these stories with you this week. Turn them over in your heart. Keep your ears and your heart open. Wherever you find yourself this week, listen for the God who comes looking for you. Amen.