began my sermon with a quote from Marshall Shelley:
“Even as a child, I loved to read, and I quickly learned that I would most likely be confused during the opening chapters of a novel. New characters were introduced. Disparate, seemingly random events took place. Subplots were complicated and didn’t seem to make any sense in relation to the main plot.”
But what you do not know and I will now tell you is that Shelley wrote these words as he reflected on the deaths of two of his children. He writes further:
“But I learned to keep reading. Why? Because you know that the author, if he or she is good, will weave them all together by the end of the book. Eventually, each element will be meaningful.
At times, such faith has to be a conscious choice.
Even when I can’t explain why a chromosomal abnormality develops in my son, which prevents him from living on earth more than two minutes….
Even when I can’t fathom why our daughter has to endure two years of severe and profound retardation and continual seizures….
I choose to trust that before the book closes, the Author will make things clear.”6
When the tests of life come our way, God does not desire that we be miserable. Indeed, God hurts when we hurt. But what God desires of us when life tests our faith is that when we are forced outside of our comfort zones, we will learn that we have to trust in God in all things and in all times and in all places.
God wants to be able to say to each and every one of us, “Now I know that you trust me.”
PRAYER: O God, help us to trust in you with all our hearts and not rely on our own understanding. Walk with us on this journey of life and may we place our faith in you in all the times of life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
3
Giving Birth to What Is Right
(GENESIS 25:19-34)
It was Abraham Lincoln who said, “Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”
The story of Jacob and Esau is a test of character for both men who have power in different ways—Jacob who has momentary power over Esau’s well-being with a pot of soup, and Esau who has fraternal power over Jacob in being the firstborn. The character of both men is tested, and both fail.
In order to understand our lesson from Genesis, it is important to note two things. First, Jacob and Esau were fraternal twins who were raised by their parents to be competitive. In most English translations of this passage we are told that Isaac loved Esau but Rebekah loved Jacob. The Hebrew word translated “love” is better interpreted as “favored.” Surely Isaac and Rebekah loved both of their children, but each parent did play favorites, and sought out any possible way for their preferred child to gain favor over the other son. Jacob and Esau were raised in a home where they were taught not to be trusting and true brothers, but cunning and conniving competitors.
Jacob and Esau could not have been more different. They did not look alike and they did not share the same interests. Jacob was a homebody; Esau was adventurous. Jacob helped out with the chores at home; Esau was out hunting game and providing food for the family. Jacob was more like his mother; Esau was more like his father. Isaac and Rebekah each had their favorite son and they did not attempt to hide their preferences.
Second, in the ancient Near Eastern world in which our story is based, the birthright was given to every firstborn son. According to custom, all male children inherited an equal portion of their father’s estate upon his death, except that the oldest son received a double-portion. So, after his earthly days, Isaac’s wealth and property would be divided into thirds with Esau receiving two-thirds to Jacob’s one-third. It must have angered Jacob, (who was encouraged to be so by his mother) that he would not inherit an equal portion of his father’s estate, even though he shared his mother’s womb with Esau, and simply had the misfortune of being born just seconds after his brother. This sets the context of our story.
Apparently Esau has been on an extended hunting trip without any luck. Jacob appears to be away from home as well, likely with one of his father’s shepherding camps where the livestock grazed in fields that were rather far away from home. This explains why Jacob is doing the cooking. With Isaac’s wealth of servants they would prepare the meals at home. So, when Esau says he is famished, he probably is. It may be that he has not had anything substantial to eat in several days, and the only food in the vicinity is what is available in the shepherding camp.
Jacob turns Esau’s hunger to his advantage. He will indeed feed his twin brother, but only in exchange for his birthright. Reasoning (without much thought) that his inheritance will do him no good if he is dead, Esau trades it in exchange for lentil soup, no doubt an unsatisfying meal to a “meat and potatoes” man like Esau. In his haste, Esau gives the double-portion of his inheritance to his younger brother who will now receive two thirds of Isaac’s wealth.
There is no doubt that both Jacob and Esau are deeply flawed characters; Jacob in utilizing his brother’s famished condition in order to receive something that was not rightfully his, and Esau in his inability to appreciate and therefore squander what he had received by grace—his birthright. And while we could devote much discussion to Jacob’s appalling behavior, we need to focus instead on Esau’s terrible decision to trade and therefore despise his birthright.
Two important things need to be said about a birthright. First, one received a birthright, not on merit, but on grace. It was by virtue of the birth order that Esau was to receive a double-portion and nothing else. At the end of the day Esau could not state that he deserved it, nor could he claim it as an accomplishment.
Second, Esau’s birthright was a reminder that he was not a lone individual whose destiny was to be determined only by him, but that he was born into something larger than himself—a family that contributed to his identity, that helped form his character, and that had expectations of him that he was obligated, by virtue of nothing other than his birth, to fulfill.
Esau had not taken sufficient stock of the fact that his status as first-born was to have been received as a very special gift, and that it was to be cherished in gratitude revealed in the way he lived, and in fulfilling the obligations that he had. In not doing so, he literally despised his birthright. His status as first-born meant nothing to him because he lacked a heart of thanksgiving.
In our culture we no longer give such official and special status to the first-born son, which is a good thing, but all of us have received a birthright in the form of blessings. We are privileged to have received the birthright of living in a free society and in one of the most prosperous countries in human history. We have received the birthright of family and friends, and we have received the all-important birthright of our faith and our community of faith. Have we received our birthright in gratitude? There is only one way to know. What are we doing with the blessings we have received? In graciously receiving the grace found in our blessings are we blessing others? Or have we despised our birthright with ingratitude and the selfish pursuit of the trivial.
One of the great and early Christian preachers and theologians, John Chrysostom, writes of what we can learn from Esau, “Let us learn the lesson never to neglect the gifts of God or forfeit important things for worthless trifles.”7 People who are grateful for the blessings they have received are people who understand what is important. I have come to believe that gratitude is the result of a centered and grounded life consisting of well-ordered priorities, and that ingratitude is the consequence of a wayward life that emphasizes the inconsequential.
