SERMON FOR JULY 11, 1999
Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
HEBREW TESTAMENT: “Twin Trouble” ~ Genesis 25: 19-34
I don’t really care to talk very much. I’d much rather be outside. I’d much rather be hunting, cooking on a campfire, watching the stars at night. If you wanted talking you should have invited my brother Jacob. Now Jacob, he’s a talker. Jacob could sweet talk the jacket off a honey bee. But me, I’ve always been the quiet one. We’re twins you know, but no one would ever guess it. I was the first one out, but not by much, and we’ve always looked different. I have been big, red haired, hairy. That’s where my name comes from, Esau, it’s word play, ‘the hairy one’. And Jacob, he got his name because he was holding on to my heel when he came out. But I was the first one. Dad always seemed to favor me. Maybe it was because I was more like him. He used to wonder around in the wilderness. Spend time by himself. Or maybe it’s because when he saw me he saw his half brother Ishmael. Maybe when he saw me he somehow felt better about having taken the blessing that belonged to Ishmael. You know it’s funny. He always felt bad that Ishmael was the oldest one, but he got the blessing. If he’d known that that was going to happen all over again.
Jacob was mom’s favorite. From the very day he was born she loved Jacob. There wasn’t anything, there wasn’t anything that I could do, there was nothing I could do to get her to love me the way that she loved Jake. I’d go out hunting and I would bring back game for dad to eat. And he loved to eat it. But Jacob stayed back tending the flocks, singing songs, learning how to fix things and always it was talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Maybe that was the only time that he really got along with dad because dad would talk about all of the ancestors, and I grew tired and wanted to be outside again. But Jacob, he’d listen to the stories. He’d listen and he’d remember.
Well there was one time, there was one story I remember about Jacob. I’d been hunting for a long time and I hadn’t had good luck. When I got back to our tent I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. Jacob was there mixing this specialty of his. This sort of red porridge and he was stirring it and adding a little bit of this and a little bit of that. It smelled so good. I said, “Jake! Give me a little bit of that!” He looked up with a sly grin on his face. He said, “What’s the matter? Not much luck?” I said, “Don’t play with me! Give me something to eat!” He said to me, “Well now, you’re the first born, you get dad’s special blessing. What if you were to die of this hunger that you have? What good would your blessing do you? If I share some of my porridge with you, you will live. Now what’s better, to die of starvation and never gain your birthright? Or to live, but give up this little blessing?” As I said, he was a sweet talker. I was so hungry that I didn’t care about some blessing down the road. I said, “Yes, yes, yes, take it!” He said, “Swear it for me Esau.” I said, “I swear!” I grabbed the pot and I ate until I was full. I didn’t think anything of it. A few words here and a little bit of food there. What difference could it make? But then when my father grew very old and he could hardly talk, or see, or hear he called me to his tent. He said, “Esau, go out, and kill me some food. Cook it for me in your own way and bring it back to me that I may speak to you. I knew something was happening. I listened to his words and I left immediately. I came back quickly. I shot a buck. I cooked the food and took it to him. I said, “Father, I am here.” He appeared confused. He said, “Who are you my son?” I said, “Dad! I am Esau. I am your first born. I have come with the food you asked for.” He said, “Esau was just here.” I said, “No Father, I have been gone.” He said, “But I have given the blessing.” Then it came to me. It came to me because as I was leaving, I saw my brother speaking with our mother in whispers. I saw them watch me as I departed. I realized that somehow I had been cheated again. A great sorrow came upon me. I dropped down to my knees and said, “But father! Isn’t there a blessing, some blessing left for me?” With sadness in his voice he said, “You will not have the blessings of the field, or the riches of our family, but the day will come when things will be settled with your brother, and you will no longer be under his domination.” It was not much of a blessing. I ran from his tent and screamed out for my brother so that I might take his neck in my hands and end his life right there. But mother was always thinking ahead. She sent Jake away and told him not to return until she had calmed me down.
The blessing of God. It is a strange thing that this God of my father, who gives these blessings, must be so conniving in the way He accomplishes things. If this God is so great, then why wasn’t Jacob born first so that the blessing might be his. Why did it have to be taken in this way? The day will come when I will see Jacob, dear sweet Jacob again, and then I will take care of things.