July 13, 2008

Scripture:         Genesis 25:19-34

Sermon:           “Hard Times and Bad Decisions”

            This morning we will hear the Word of the Lord from the book of Genesis.  And you may know that the title of this book means that it is the book of origins.  In it are stories of the origins of things that the ancient Israelites would tell to one another and to their children.  So, there are stories about the creation of the earth and all things living on it.  And there are stories about the origins of the Israelite people and all of the peoples living around them in that part of the world so long ago.

            But, it’s not all nice and neat.  The origins of things, it turns out, is just as complex as the way things have turned out in the life we experience in all times and places.  It’s as if the book is telling us all the time that God’s had quite a handful since forming us humans out of the dust and breathing life into our nostrils.  The stories of Genesis are so messy at times that not a few folks have looked at it as one grand tale of dysfunctional families.

            The first act of defiance to God happens, of course, within just a chapter of people being created.  And it doesn’t take long for brothers to betray one another and the first act of murder to occur.  People are lying.  People are killing.  People are going behind one another’s backs, scheming and deceiving.  I suppose that one message we get from all of this is that it’s always been this way.  You know that’s what the Apostle Paul interpreted from all of this hundreds of years later.  He said that sin came into the world through one man, Adam.  And death came as a result of all of that.  And we’ve inherited this sin and death through the very first human being. (Romans 5:12)

            Maybe that’s a scientific explanation to you.  Some people read it that way.  Scientific or not, Paul’s onto something.  If you’re human, you’re not God.  And if you’re human, you’re going to run afoul of what God would have you do from time to time.  Maybe you inherited that from Adam, as Paul suggests.  It’s a true assessment of our condition in any case.

            Turn with me to Genesis 25 where we’ll read the birth story of Jacob and Esau in verses 19 through 34.  That’s on page 27 of the Old Testament, or Hebrew Bible, in the bible provided for you in the pew racks.

            Now, this story likely is told in the way we have it in order to explain why there was so much conflict between the Israelites and a neighboring tribe of people called the Edomites.  Those conflicts would flare up from time to time.  People would ask, “why are we always getting into fights with those people down there south of the Dead Sea?”  And this story of origins says that it’s always been that way.  It goes back to when the two nations were born.  Jacob’s people became the Israelites.  And Esau’s people became the Edomites.  And Jacob and Esau were wrestling with each other even in the womb of their mother Rebekah.

            It’s also a story of a hasty and costly decision made in the midst of anxiety and difficult times.  And I think that it has something to say to us today.  So, listen for the Word of the Lord…

            These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son:  Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-arm, sister of Laban the Aramean.  Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife conceived.  The children struggled together within her; and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?”  So she went to inquire of the Lord.  And the Lord said to her, “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.”

            When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb.  The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle; so they named him Esau.  Afterward his brother came out, with his hand gripping Esau’s heel; so he was named Jacob.  Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them.

            When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents.  Isaac loved Esau, because he was fond of game; but Rebekah loved Jacob.

            Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished.  Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!”  (Therefore he was called Edom.)  Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.”  Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?”  Jacob said, “Swear to me first.”  So he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob.  Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank, and rose and went his way.  Thus Esau despised his birthright.

            Esau.  Seems a bit foolish, doesn’t it?  He’s the older son by a matter of minutes.  And just a few moments is all that mattered as far as the birthright was concerned.  Be it a few minutes or a few years that separated the two brothers, Esau was the rightful heir to the largest share of his father’s wealth.  That’s the way things worked.  And he sold it all away for a bowl of stew and a warm yeast roll.

            You remember that story that Jesus told?  We call it the story of the prodigal son.  The younger of two sons asked his father to go ahead and fork over his share of the inheritance.  And he went off and lived wildly until the money ran out.  You remember that story?  When that wayward son came groveling back to the house, the father strangely threw a “Welcome Home” party.  And the older son was incensed at the whole thing.

            There is something at work behind the story that Jesus told.  Oldest sons were entitled to two-thirds of the father’s estate.  And oldest sons became the leading figure in the family.  The ancient world just operated that way.  They didn’t have wills, you know.  In fact the oldest known law code in the world, established by a Babylonian king named Hammurabi, included this very way of dividing a man’s wealth among sons.  And that was some 1800 years before the life of Jesus.  Do you remember learning about Hammurabi’s Code back in your history classes?

            So, when Jesus told the story about the prodigal son, everybody knew why the oldest son was so upset.  The father began shelling out funds from the remaining share in order to honor that younger son who wasted all that he’d already received.  And that meant there would be less for the older son some day.

            Rewind a couple of thousand of years.  Esau’s the oldest son of Isaac, who has inherited everything from Abraham—and that’s nothing to sneeze at.  Seems a bit foolish to give all of that away to Jacob the younger son, doesn’t it?  “Man, I’m starving to death here.  What good is all of that to me now?  Give me some stew, brother.”  And so, we are told, Esau sold his birthright.

            I don’t know what it is to be truly hungry.  My guess is that most of us here don’t.  I’ve seen pictures of children in Africa with distended bellies.  They’re starving on their feet, little angels.  Mmm.  Here’s a sobering reality:  something like 30,000 children die every single day around the world because they don’t have enough to eat.  So, I don’t know what hunger is.

            We’re told twice in this story that Esau was famished after going out on the hunt.  Don’t know how long he was out there.  Seems that he wasn’t very successful.  He was famished.  I know what it’s like to have my tummy grumble.  I don’t know how famished feels.  But, that’s what drove Esau to do what he did.  Still, I have the impression that Esau wasn’t exactly starving.  Not like we know people are truly starving.  You know?

            Anxious.  Whatever Esau was feeling in his stomach, anxiety is what he was feeling in his head and in his heart.  I don’t know what true hunger feels like, but anxiety is a thing I know a thing or two about.

            There’s a church over the hills up there in Greenville that runs a food pantry.  I haven’t been there, but a woman here at Park was talking with a woman at that church.  I’ll tell you, I’ve had several conversations with y’all here lately about this kind of thing.  Anyhow, that food pantry has had about twice the number of people coming by lately looking for a way to get by.  And it isn’t just the regulars, you know.  It’s people who are breaking down in tears because they never thought it would be them.  That’s anxiety.

            Someone told me the other day about a time when she had about $28 dollars to her name and that was going to have to last almost two weeks until the next paycheck came in.  And there were children to feed, you know.  And that $28 made it on rice and beans.  I think that’s pretty remarkable.  Anxiety?  Yes.  But, that’s how you do it.

            When I was in college, my roommate was flat busted.  I won’t go into details about how he got there.  It’s a sordid tale, and one that I’m not completely innocent of myself.  But, this guy had one thing left.  His parents had given him one of those credit cards for a gas station.  Do you know what you can get to eat at a gas station?  He wore that thing out!  Chili dogs, two for 99 cents.  Boy, he lived on those things.

            At some future date, of course, the bill for that gas station came in the mail.  And my roommate managed to keep the minimum payment caught up.  Ever been there?  Meanwhile, those chili dogs and whatever kept adding up.  I’d estimate that by the time he finally paid that card off completely, some of those meals cost a whole lot more than 99 cents.  You do the math.  Is a chili dog really worth 10 or 15 dollars?

            Hard times can make for bad decisions.  Anxiety.  Fear.  Desperation.  Esau sold his birthright for a bowl of soup and a piece of bread.  It sounds like a rather large tale.  But, I’ve seen it.  Truth is, I’ve done it.

            I’ve been reading a book lately by a well-known youth pastor named Mark Yaconelli.  One of his central claims is that we have created a culture in which we no longer live from the center of our lives.  Instead, listen to this, we live largely out of responding to our anxieties.  Do you know what that’s all about?  The decisions that you make have less to do with fulfilling your God-given calling in life and more to do with avoiding pain and suffering.  And that’s about where we find Esau.  What’s your next meal worth to you?

            Anxiety.  Goodness, does that really control us?  I mean you’re going to pay about $4.25 for a gallon of gasoline this week.  Your bill at the grocery store is going to be more than it was before.  General Electric may close its factory doors.  Then again, they may not.  Ford is likely going to eliminate the night shift.  Yeah, there are some folks going to the local food pantries that have never in their lives asked for help.  Anxiety.

            There’s something just a bit too real about Esau.  Hard times make for some bad decisions.  Anxiety and fear take center stage in our minds and cause us to act out of desperation rather than hope or love.  Esau did it in one fell swoop.  You and I can do it one credit card transaction at a time.  We focus on the immediate relief of stress rather than the long term vision of God’s guidance in our lives.  That’s real.

            The other side of this story is that the younger brother, Jacob, is all too willing to take advantage of the situation.  He’s the patriarch whom God used to create the nation of Israel.  But, he’s no saint most of the time.  You read about him sometime here in Genesis.  The lies.  The trickery and deceit.  The wrestling with a God that he just doesn’t want to go along with.

            In the midst of hard times there’s always someone that will accept your desperation gladly with bad deals and underhanded tactics.  Not everybody is going to be looking out for your best interests.  And they will give you temporary relief from your anxiety.  But, it could cost you your future.

            I want to end with something that Jesus also said.  I know that it sounds like a platitude.  But, look around for a minute.  See the rising anxieties all around us.  And hear these words again.  Think about Esau and the mistake he made.  And hear these words of our Lord and Savior:  (Matthew 6:25-34)  “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink,^* or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ²⁷And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?^{* 28}And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, ²⁹yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. ³⁰But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? ³¹Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” ³²For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. ³³But strive first for the kingdom of God^* and his^* righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” 

Rev. David James Brown

Park Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)