I don’t know how many of you have ever been to the reading of a will, but I assume that, even if you haven’t, you have a vague idea of what happens at one. Typically, the family and relatives, as well as anybody else who expects to be involved in the distribution of the estate, gather together in a lawyer’s office and wait for their names to be called. It can be a very exciting time for some, and I’m guessing a very anxious time for others. After all, you don’t want to show up if your name is not going to be mentioned. It would be rather humiliating to find out at that point that you didn’t really belong there.

And yet, within the history of ancient Israel, there were some folks who didn’t need to be present when the will was read. They might as well have stayed at home, because their names would never be called. For starters, the widow didn’t need to be there. Strange as it may seem to us, the law dictated that she was not to inherit a thing. She was a woman, after all, and in those days, property was handed down strictly through men. It was always father-to-son, uncle-to-nephew, or brother-to-brother.

If you were a slave, you also didn’t need to bother showing up. Your name might have been called, but it was more in terms of who was going to inherit you, not what you were going to inherit. Slaves were part of the estate, never the benefactors thereof. Likewise, if you were a foreigner, you could safely skip the reading of the will. Your name wouldn’t be on the list. People who were not children of Israel were widely regarded as nobodies. They may have lived there, but in the eyes of the law, they didn’t belong there, and so they got nothing.

That’s just the way it was. Some folks were in; others were out. But then again, are things really that different today? The world is still largely made up of the haves and the have-nots. There are some who own vacation homes on three continents, and others who sleep each night on a park bench beneath a blanket of newsprint. There are some whose pantries and tables are laden with food, and others whose stomachs go empty. There are some who can’t figure out which party to attend this weekend, and others who will sit in their apartment all alone. That’s just the way it is.

But according to the Bible, that’s not the way it will always be. The future is not merely an endless extension of the status quo. God is the One who holds the future, and God’s future has a way of surprising and disrupting human expectations. In Isaiah 56, for example, there is a marvelous passage where the Lord says, “I do not want foreigners to say, ‘I do not have a place among the people of God.’ I do not want the eunuch to say, ‘I am just a dead tree.’ The day is coming,” says the Lord, “when the stranger, the alien, the foreigner, the transient will all have a place in my house. And those who find themselves without children will have better than sons and daughters, because I will put their name on a marker in my house and everybody will know them forever. That day is coming,” says Isaiah, “when God’s house shall be called a house of prayer for everybody” (Isaiah. 56:3-8).

In other words, in God’s future, there will no longer be the haves and the have-nots. There will no longer be those whose names are called, and those who wait in vain for someone to notice them. There will no longer be people who are left out or overlooked, for we will all be brought together in God’s house, and made to feel that we truly belong there.