Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Sibling Rivalry … And More"

Text: Genesis 25:19-34

the story Pat read us is only the beginning of

the story of those two brothers, Jacob and Esau.

And it only gets worse as time goes on.

The part that most of us probably remember best

is the bit where poor old Isaac is dying,

and Jacob and his mother Rebekah

trick him into believing that Jacob is really Esau,

so Isaac gives the blessing to Jacob,

when it rightly belonged to the first-born.

Tradition has sort of understood

old, blind, dying Isaac as the victim;

and Rebekah as the schemer

who talks Jacob into the deception.

But others see Esau as the real victim,

robbed of his birthright and blessing,

and Jacob as the conniver and greedy one …

which he certainly looks like in this morning’s story.

Yet, when we dig into the story a little more,

we find that none of the four is blameless.

None of them can legitimately claim innocence.

Granted, Jacob is a little too clever for his own good,

and he shouldn’t play such tricks on Esau.

But Esau is such a brains-in-his-stomach kind of guy

that he’s willing to give up his heritage

for a big bowl of lentil stew.

Can’t you just imagine what the sniping between those two brothers

must have sounded like when they were children:

"Bookworm nerd!

Mama’s boy always in the kitchen!"

"Single-digit IQ

murderer of small defenseless animals!"

And yes, Rebekah is a sneak,

and she obviously favors her younger son.

But Isaac has also shown favoritism

to Esau, the older son.

And not just the kind of things

that tradition entitled Esau to

because he was the oldest …

No, it tells us that "Isaac loved Esau because he ate of his game."

Isaac loves Esau because he feeds him.

So I guess Esau came by his gluttony naturally!

Today, we would call this foursome

a "dysfunctional family system."

Not severely dysfunctional,

because they were able to keep on keeping on …

But there was definitely plenty of blame to go around

for all the things that happened.

If anything, I suspect that the character we side with

tends to tell us more about ourselves

than it does about the biblical story!

Those of us who take the part of Isaac and Esau

will be those who have played by the rules,

done what was expected of us,

and expect that we will be rewarded in return.

Those who take the side of Rebekah and Jacob

will be those who believe the rules aren’t always fair,

and that we have to be responsible for our own future,

not have it handed to us.

In many ways,

it’s a lot like the parable of the prodigal son.

An older brother who sees the world one way,

and a younger one who sees it quite differently.

One obeys the traditional rules;

the other breaks those rules,

and both experience forgiveness.

The prodigal son story doesn’t tell us

whether the two brothers were ever reconciled.

The Jacob and Esau story does …

and they were …

though it was many years later

after each had wives and children,

and had become prosperous …

and only as they were in process of

marching to war against one another!

You might say,

they just barely lived happily ever after.

But I’m getting ahead of this morning’s story.

These early episodes with Jacob and Esau,

with Isaac and Rebekah,

let us know that in this family

there are no true heroes or villains.

That might seem sad to some of us –

we like to have heroes we can admire,

and try to pattern our own lives after.

And life is so much easier if things are

just black and white, with no shades of gray.

Where this is the hero:

he always does the right thing,

and for the right reasons.

He’s never tempted to misuse his power,

and he never has an ulterior motive.

But here is the villain. (Hiss! Boo!)

He never does anything nice.

He doesn’t love anybody.

His motives are as impure as his actions.

He’s only out to get what he can get for himself.

How much simpler the world would be

if there only existed these two,

obviously differentiated,

categories of people.

But it isn’t that simple, is it?

Each of us has a hero within,

and is able to act heroic.

And each of us has a villain within,

and is quite capable of villainous behavior.

And, each of us has a victim within,

and is sometimes harmed by forces we can’t control.

We are "all of the above,"

like Isaac and his family.

And I personally am glad

that the people in the Bible stories

aren’t perfect paragons of virtue.

Because if God can use people like Jacob and Esau,

then God can use us, too.

If God’s plans can be accomplished through

folks like Rebekah and Isaac …

then we too can do the work of the Lord,

even if we get it wrong every now and then.

I’m not always sure whether God’s work gets done

because of us, or in spite of us …

but whichever it us,

we are a part of the divine plan.

And as I say,

I find that very comforting.

Because even though it doesn’t

release me from the responsibility of

improving myself and/or asking God to do it …

it reminds me that God loves me,

and wants me, just as I am.

On the other hand,

knowing that God can and will use us

even with our imperfections,

can also be discomforting.

Because it means that we don’t have any excuses.

It’s just so tempting, when God calls, to say:

"Wow, God, that’s a really great plan,

but I’m not the right person to do it.

You need someone heroic, like Moses."

Moses?

The one who killed a man,

and then ran away in fear?

The one who made all kinds of excuses for himself

when God called to him out of the burning bush

and signed him up for Egypt duty?

The one who threw a hissy fit

and broke the first set of stone tablets of the 10 Commandments,

so that he had to go back up the mountain

and get them again?

Moses, a hero? Not particularly.

Just a very normal guy

empowered to do heroic things.

There’s another excuse that’s very popular today.

It sounds something like this:

"God, I’d like to help out,

but I’m really too small and vulnerable.

I’m a victim … of poverty, of racism, of ageism,

of sexism, of child abuse, of injustice, of circumstances …

You need someone healthy,

not pathetic little me."

But everyone in today’s story is a victim

in one way or another.

Rebekah, victim in a culture where women had no voice.

Jacob, victim of a tradition and laws

which gave the eldest son everything and the others, nothing …

even the age difference was only five minutes,

and the youngest was ever so much smarter.

Esau was the victim of his brother’s cleverness

and his own hunger.

Isaac, the bedridden, dying victim

of Rebekah’s and Jacob’s scheme.

To say nothing of what it must do to your psyche,

even as an old man,

to know that your father once almost sacrificed you!

Yet at some time or another,

each of these was an instrument of God’s will,

and a key player in the divine plan.

God can use even broken vessels

to carry the message of life.

Even rival siblings.

Even parents who play favorites with their children.

Even sons who deceive their fathers.

God doesn’t need people who are perfect,

just people who are willing.

God doesn’t need heroes,

just ordinary people who are occasionally

willing to act heroically.

If Rebekah could do it,

as limited as she was by her culture’s view of women,

then surely I can do it.

If Jacob and Esau could do it,

we can all do it.

No more excuses.

God’s world needs us.

Let us go …

all of us sneaks, victims, heroes, gluttons,

tricksters, villains, all of the above.

God is waiting.

Amen.