. . . or is that . . .
. . . “Taking Care of the Family Bidness”?
In some parts of the United States, particularly the Southwest, the word business is often pronounced “bidness”, as if it were spelled b-i-d-n-e-s-s. For example, you’ll hear the word “bidness” if you watch an old episode of Dallas. Ol’ J.R. Ewing, he was quite a bidness-man.
And, in a real sense, it’s not just a question of a regional pronunciation, but a difference of ethical attitudes. Business and bidness are two different things.
- Both business and bidness are about making a profit, of course.
- Business is also about producing a good product and providing ood jobs. People like Bill Gates, Warren Buffett, or Sir Richard Branson are involved in business.
- Bidness, on the other hand, is about wheeling and dealing and trying to pull off a fast one on the other person. Perhaps we can say that bidness is primarily about “The Art of the Deal”.
In the negotiations between Jacob and Laban, Laban was trying to do a bit of bidness with Jacob. And Jacob fell for it.
Now, it’s not as if Jacob was a total innocent himself when it came to bidness. This is the man who conned his hungry brother into trading his birthright for a bowl of soup. This is the man who conned his almost-blind father into giving him the blessing reserved for his brother. Jacob was not an innocent here. He knew how to wheel and deal. Jacob knew how to do bidness.
But this time, Laban did the wheeling and the dealing, and Jacob was on the receiving end of the bidness. Here’s how it happened.
Jacob was on the run. His brother Esau was angry once he realised the extent to which Jacob cheated him. He made his way to the home of his uncle Laban, his mother’s brother. Laban had two daughters, Rachel and Leah. The writer describes both daughters.
- Rachel, the younger daughter, was “graceful and beautiful”
- Her older sister Leah, we are told, had nice eyes. (Perhaps the writer was being diplomatic, and focusing on one notably good feature.)
Jacob, being a red-blooded young bloke, fell for Rachel. It doesn’t say anywhere what feeling either of the sisters had for Jacob. It didn’t seem to be the kind of question that the writer would have thought important. It was a culture which practiced arranged marriage - and polygamy. Such cultures rarely asked how a young girl felt about a prospective suitor.
Anyway, Jacob and Laban agreed that Jacob would work for Laban for seven years in exchange for Rachel’s hand in marriage. Seven years of work later, it was time for a wedding. It was only when the heavy - and opaque - veil was lifted from the bride’s face in the marital boudoir that Jacob realised, “This woman is Leah! Laban has done some bidness with me!”
A few angry words passed the next morning between son-in-law and father-in-law. And then it was time for bidness. The following deal was wheeled by Laban: A second wedding will happen in a week’s time. And this time the bride will be Rachel. In return, Laban will get seven more years of unpaid work from Jacob.
Again, there’s nothing about the opinions and feelings of either Rachel or Leah on these arrangements.
The story continued (with a good deal of bidness from all concerned).
- A rivalry developed between the sisters as to which one could provide Jacob with more sons.
- Jacob, through some creative management of Laban’s flock of sheep, found himself with a bigger (and healthier) flock than Laban.
- Jacob and his (by-now very large) family fled from Laban’s house with their possessions (along with some of Laban’s possessions).
- Laban caught up with Jacob at a place called Mizpah, where they finally parted company.
Now, I can remember when some church groups – particularly some women’s fellowship groups - traditionally ended their meetings by reciting together something they called “the Mizpah Benediction”. In the language of the old King James Version, it goes like this: “The Lord watch between me and thee while we are absent, one from the other.”
This was a statement made by Laban to Jacob in this passage, but it wasn’t a blessing in anyone’s imagination. In its context, what Laban said to Jacob at Mizpah was:
“I’ve conned you.
You’ve conned me.
Even if we don’t trust each other
any further than we can throw each other,
let’s call it a draw.
Let God be the witness that the bidness is over.”
(I find it more than vaguely amusing that the statement is often used as a benediction.)
“The Lord watch between me and thee while we are absent, one from the other.”
So, Laban did bidness with Jacob ... and Jacob did bidness with Laban. And, surprisingly enough, God is in the midst of it somewhere.
God has this commitment, you see, to humanity, warts and all:
- not just when we’re at our most presentable,
- not just when we’re at our most ethical,
- not just when we’re at our most religious,
- but all the time.
God is always in our midst. Jacob eventually found this out. (Even if it took a wrestling match with a mysterious stranger and a dislocated hip before the lesson sunk in. That’s in the lesson from Genesis next week.)
So we have a story about a wheeler-dealer, who was occasionally wheeled and dealed himself. The story is also about the living God who is always present in our midst, even when we assume - by our actions - by our bidness - that God is absent.
- God is in our midst, offering love, even when we’re not at our most loveable
- God is in our midst, even when we’re in the midst of bidness.
- God is in our midst, confronting us - and confronting all people - when our bidness leads to harm to others.
- God is in our midst, transforming us into people who are about the true business of life: doing justice, loving mercy, walking humbly with our God and our neighbour.