Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Costly Reconciliation"

Text: Genesis 32:22-31

This morning’s Old Testament reading

has given us another "favorite Jacob story,"

but again, without much context.

We began three weeks ago,

looking at Jacob and Esau as young men,

and the dysfunctional family that Isaac and Rebekah

created for them to grow up in …

and we saw Jacob’s stealing of Esau’s blessing and birthright

in that context.

The following week,

you looked at Jacob’s well-known dream,

of angels ascending and descending,

and saw how Jacob began to understand himself

in relationship with God,

not just out to get what he could get for himself.

Then last week,

you heard once again the story of Jacob’s marriage

to both Leah and Rachel,

and how his uncle Laban tricked him,

in much the same way he had tricked his own father,

and heard more about what happened

as all those relationships played themselves out.

But now,

Jacob is ready to return home.

To the home he left, all those years ago,

fleeing from a brother who wanted to kill him.

We don’t have time to tell the whole story

of how he finally got away from Laban,

who continued his practice of making promises

and then trying to sneak his way out of them.

Suffice it to say that

Jacob did some very creative breeding practices with Laban’s flocks,

managed to keep the best for himself,

and then fled, at last,

when Laban’s own sons figured out what he was up to.
After one final confrontation,

which takes place after Laban catches up with Jacob and his entourage,

the two men make a covenant between themselves,

and set up a pillar,

partly as a reminder of their agreement,

and partly as a dividing line between "yours" and "mine"!

Then, we learn that

"early in the morning Laban rose up,

and kissed his grandchildren and his daughters and blessed them;

then he departed and returned home."

Okay, so far, so good.

But as Jacob once again turns toward home,

he sends messengers to his estranged brother Esau,

with the word that he is returning with much livestock and slaves,

and he hopes that he will find favor in Esau’s sight.

The intent of the message seems to be,

"I’m not coming to ask anything of you; I can provide for myself;

I just want to come home, and I hope you won’t mind."

But the messengers return, instead,

with the word that Esau is coming to meet Jacob,

"and four hundred men are with him."

Oops.

That doesn’t sound too good.

Sounds like Esau’s long memory

is having thoughts of vengeance.

So Jacob, ever resourceful and clever,

first divides everything up into two groups,

thinking that, well, if Esau comes and slaughters one group,

then at least there will be one group or survivors.

Then he prays.

What a concept!

If you’ll remember from Van’s comments the past couple of weeks,

God – or perhaps I should say, any mention of God –

has been strangely absent in most of Jacob’s considerations

during his sojourn in the land of Laban.

So it’s hard to know for certain whether Jacob is sincere here,

or whether he’s merely hedging his bets.

He certainly sounds like he means it, though:

"I am not worthy … of the steadfast love and faithfulness you have shown …"

"Deliver me, please, from the hand of my brother …"

but also a not-so-subtle reminder:

"Yet you have said, ‘I will surely do you good …’"

And it’s after this, when Jacob is alone,

after having sent everyone else on across the stream ahead of him,

that he has his famous wrestling match.

Many of us who learned this story as children

heard it called "Jacob wrestling with the angel,"

or something to that effect.

But it’s clear from the text

that who Jacob is wrestling with, is none other than God.

Not surprisingly, God prevails,

although it’s very nearly a draw until close to the end.

And of course, Jacob doesn’t realize at first who it is.

In a way, it’s almost like this wrestling match is a weird answer

to Jacob’s prayer.

A test, perhaps, of whether he meant it or not.

God has taken Jacob seriously,

whether Jacob meant for God to, or not!

And so the real question in this wrestling match is,

who is going to prevail?

Is Jacob going to continue to be the successful trickster he has always been,

or, from now on, is he going to do things God’s way?

Not surprising that it’s a close match!

How hard it is for any of us to give up what has always worked,

even if we are pretty sure it isn’t God’s will.

And when God wins,

Jacob is left limping.

Literally, in the story,

but probably also figuratively as well.

For one thing, as we have said before,

anyone who takes God seriously

is going to appear to be out of step with the world.

But even more so, in Jacob’s case.

It’s as if, in order to be reconciled with God

and – he hopes – his brother Esau,

Jacob has to give up something that has always worked for him before.

No longer does he get to depend on his own smarts,

his cleverness, his deviousness.

He’s going to have to depend on God.

And that is the equivalent of throwing away a crutch …

giving up something that has supported you well.

It’s not surprising that he limps.

But as he limps toward Esau, in the morning,

still fearful, but going ahead of his wives and children

not hiding behind them …

as he limps toward his brother,

Joseph is humble.

The story tells us that he bowed himself to the ground before Esau,

not once, but seven times.

And that Esau ran to meet him …

with a sword in his hand? No.

"Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him,

and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept."

Wow.

Esau was coming to meet Jacob with, apparently,

an army of four hundred men …

but instead, he embraces his brother and they weep together.

So think, also, about what Esau had to give up

in order to reconcile with his brother, and with God.

Give up a grudge he had been nursing for at least fifteen years …

give up his righteous anger …

after all, he was cheated; no one denies that.

In a warped sort of way,

it can feel awfully good to be the innocent party

who was wronged by someone else.

You may have been cheated,

but by gum, you’re virtuous and pitiful,

and no one can take that away from you!

Esau gives it up, and gladly, or so it seems,

for the chance at being reconciled with his twin.

True forgiveness and reconciliation

always cost us something, don’t they?

I don’t mean the small things, like,

I forgive you for forgetting our lunch date because you were busy.

I mean the major stuff:

I forgive you for stealing our father’s blessing from me.

I forgive you, my sister or brother,

for absenting yourself and leaving me alone

to care for our elderly parents.

I forgive you, my father or mother,

for the things you should have done differently.

I forgive you, my child,

for all the times you have hurt me, or caused me to worry.

And, of course, the flip side,

Please forgive me, my spouse or partner or friend,

for all the big and little ways that I am unfaithful

to our relationship and its importance in my life.

Please forgive me, my brother or sister,

for all the ways that I have competed with you

instead of cooperating with you.

Please forgive me, my family,

for acting like my work is more important than you are.

Please forgive me, Esau,

for taking what was yours

and especially for thinking I was so clever about it

and that you somehow deserved what I had done.

Whether we are the one asking forgiveness, like Jacob,

or the one doing the forgiving, like Esau,

we are being asked to give something up.

I’ve tried, but I can’t say it any better than Frederick Buechner,

so let’s listen to part of his definition of "Forgiveness":

"To forgive somebody is to say one way or another,

‘You have done something unspeakable,

and by all rights I should call it quits between us.

Both my pride and my principles demand no less.

However, although I make no guarantee

that I will be able to forget what you’ve done

and though we may both carry the scars for life,

I refuse to let it stand between us.

I still want you for my friend.’

To accept forgiveness means to admit that

you’ve done something unspeakable that needs to be forgiven,

and thus both parties must swallow the same thing: their pride.

This seems to be what Jesus means when he says to God,

‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive

those who trespass against us.’

Jesus is not saying that God’s forgiveness

is conditional upon our forgiving others …

What Jesus apparently is saying

is that the pride that keeps us from forgiving

is the same pride which keeps us from accepting forgiveness,

and will God please help us do something about it."

(Wishful Thinking, pp. 28-29)

And that doesn’t even begin to touch on those times

when you are ready to forgive,

but the other cannot accept your forgiveness

because they cannot accept that they did anything wrong …

or, when you have asked for forgiveness,

but the other is still too hurt, or angry, or both

to offer it to you.

Those are entirely different sermons, for different days!

Because even when both sides want to be reconciled,

it is still costly, and difficult,

and involves loss.

Those people who can glibly say things like,

"Oh, you just have to forgive and forget,

and get on with your life,"

don’t get it.

Reconciliation is hard.

But it’s also wonderful.

It is like having the 16-ton-weight lifted from you.

It is a new beginning.

Maybe not with the slate wiped clean …

God seems able to forget our sins,

but humans can’t do that.

Buechner is right; we do carry scars

from the times we have been hurt and have caused hurt.

But, it also seems that moments of reconciliation

also strengthen our relationships with one another.

When we make that God-inspired decision

to stick it out with one another in spite of hurt,

to work it out instead of walking away:

we strengthen our bond; we strengthen our commitment;

in a certain sense, we strengthen ourselves as well.

In verse 10 of chapter 33, Jacob says to Esau,

"truly to see your face is like seeing the face of God" …

and he should know,

since he spent the whole previous night wrestling with God!

To look on the face of one who forgives

is like looking on the face of God, who forgives us.

To be reconciled with each other

is to be reconciled with God.

And it will cost us something …

but it will reward us beyond what we can even imagine.

May we see God’s face in one another …

and be at peace.

Amen.