There was once an old Arab who died and left 17 camels to his three sons. His will was very explicit about their inheritance. One-half of the camels were to be given to the eldest son, one-third to the middle son, and one-ninth to the youngest son. The sons were extremely perplexed, since seventeen cannot be divided by two, three, and nine. As they were pondering how, in Allah's name, they might divide up their inheritance without spilling either their own blood or that of the camels, a neighbor came to their aid. "I will lend you my camel," he said. With the neighbor's camel there were now eighteen camels. The oldest son took one-half or nine camels; the middle son took one-third or six camels; and the youngest son took one-ninth or two camels. Nine plus six plus two camels totaled 17, and the neighbor took back his 18th camel and all the sons were happy.

This story of the 18th camel is a story of unessential necessities. Sometimes that which may not seem to add anything to the sum total in reality adds a great deal. Believe it or not, the Bible is full of 18th camels. These people are unessential necessities. They are people who do not appear to add a whole lot, if anything, to the lives of others, but in reality are very necessary and needed. Remember Noah. The world didn't need another crazy man who thought he heard the voice of God and spent all his time building a boat under the heat of the sun. And yet ... he was an 18th camel. Or what about Sarah? What could she add to God's promise of descendants as numerous as the sands of the sea? She was as old as the sequoias and as barren as a tree in dead winter. And yet ... she was an 18th camel. Remember Jacob? Now here was a character of godly virtues. Thief. Trickster. Conniver. A real addition to God's hall of shame, I mean, fame. And yet ... an 18th camel.

How about Joseph? To his eleven brothers this starry-eyed dreamer was a corn on the family toe. He would never amount to anything to his family, let alone to the world. And yet... he was an 18th camel. And what of Rahab? A Canaanite. Considered a woman of the evening. She didn't have anything to contribute to God's promise of a land for the Hebrews. And yet ... she was an 18th camel. What of Gideon? From a poor family. The pipsqueak of the house. Leader of a whittled down army with trumpets, clay pots, and torches for weapons. Another 18th camel. Remember David? Another runt of the family with a slingshot hanging out of his back pocket. An adulterer and murderer. And yet ... an 18th camel.

Take Joseph. Supposed father of Jesus. What could he add to a virgin birth! What in the world could this poor fellow contribute to the holy family accept maybe a donkey to ride on? What about ... an 18th camel? Or the poor widow, whose tiny coin clinked in the temple coffers. She was a nobody with little to offer. And yet she was an 18th camel. Or what about the poor and sick and elderly that came to Jesus? Surely they had nothing to contribute to society. Except maybe, an 18th camel. And consider most of the women in the New Testament. What could women like Martha and Mary, the Syro-Phoenician woman, the Samaritan woman by the well, Mary of Bethany, the woman who anointed Jesus feet ... what could they add to Jesus' ministry? An 18th camel? Or what of the children who came to Jesus? They were negligible, nuisances, and appendages to adults. What could children contribute to the kingdom of God? Another 18th camel? The Bible is full of 18th camels.