Hey, That’s Mine!

A Sermon Preached by Tom Markey

John Knox Presbyterian Church – Indianapolis, Indiana

July 13, 2014

Genesis 25: 19-34

Let us pray, Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable unto you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

          There we were, myself, the lone brother and my two sisters, one older and one younger. A battle of epic proportions had begun. It was every sibling for themselves. What had begun as friendly play had quickly escalated into an intense, physical altercation. Such was often the case in our household, innocent wrestling morphing into violent warfare. Older sister would punch and/or kick too hard, brother would push with too much vigor, and little sister, well, she was the little sister so to two older siblings she was just annoying all the time. So there we were. Sibling against sibling. My older sister, who was a member of her middle school wrestling team, enjoyed putting me into various wrestling holds. Half nelson, full nelson, you name the maneuver and I had likely fallen victim to it. This time was no different. She had me latched into some sort of overwhelming death grip, one that I was certain I could not break. However, about that time in my life, late middle school/early high school, something amazing had begun happening. I would, quite shockingly to both me and my older sister, have moments of Herculean strength where I could actually break her holds and take her down. (I later recognized that this was simply called puberty and that for the first time in my life I was actually stronger than my older sister.) So, with that in mind, I made my move. Success! I had broken her Vulcan death grip and quickly took action. I grabbed her by her shoulders, squeezed tight, and began to push her back towards the kitchen cupboards. Full steam ahead my sister’s back slammed into the cupboard. The impact was quick and forceful and yes, you guessed it, the cupboard door met a rather unfortunate fate. The middle pane of the cupboard snapped right off of the outside frame of the door. The kitchen once filled with laughter, shrieks, and yelling went silent. My little sister’s smirk of delight turned into a face full of panic and dismay. Lucky for us, mom, the knower of all things good and bad that occurred in our house, was not home. Our dad was in the back room watching TV. We began to whisper silently. Surely, we thought, he had not heard us. We quickly sprang into action. With duck- tape in hand we “fixed” the door. Rather proud of our problem solving and our carpentry work, we headed off on our separate ways, the battle had commenced, a draw had been determined. We would meet again. Unfortunately, we celebrated too soon. In walked dad. He had heard. In fact, he had heard everything, including the cracking of the wood from the cupboard door. He investigated the crime scene. We watched and we waited. Nervously, we all began to prepare our excuses, readied our fingers to point the blame on one another, and allowed the crocodile tears to begin swelling in the hopes that me might take some pity on us. Though, much to our surprise (and relief) he handled it with incredible grace and compassion. Our act of demolition was met with a smile. We thought this was too good to be true, certainly when mom finds out we will surely be in trouble. Mom came home. Our hearts raced as we prepared for the worst, but yet again, our handy work was met with a smile.

         I like to think that the home of Isaac and Rebekah was similar, two boys, twins no less, constantly competing and dueling. Always attempting to outdo and outsmart one another. There is Esau, the rough, tough, and rugged brother. Then there is Jacob, the wily, crafty, and clever brother. It is a classic case of brains versus brawn and one that quite literally began before their birth, for as we heard in our reading today “the children struggled together” inside of Rebekah’s womb. So distraught by the struggle inside of her womb Rebekah even laments to God, “Why do I live?” God responds with a clear and concise answer, “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.” Point taken, this was clearly going to be a sibling rivalry that ran much deeper than an occasional scuffle in the kitchen. These were two brothers whose rivalry was sealed in divine blessing, two brothers who were set to be leaders of rivaling nations. It is a storyline Hollywood filmmakers dream of, two brothers, rivals before birth set to become leaders of dueling nations; it is a story people want to hear. In fact, it is so enticing that even their parents get in on the action, “Isaac loved Esau,” but “Rebekah loved Jacob.” So, the rivalry is set, the players are in position, and what happens? Esau is hungry, so hungry in fact that he is “about to die.” Jacob preys on Esau’s famished state, bartering a bowl of lentil stew for Esau’s birthright. The score here is undeniable, Brains – 1 Brawn – 0. Jacob has just taken hold of Esau’s much larger inheritance. This is a dramatic, yet fitting close to this blossoming sibling rivalry.

          Yet, as enticing of a plot as this may be, this story leaves us anything but satisfied. It moves quickly and ends abruptly. It is a story laced with undeniable and overwhelming rivalry, strife, conflict, and even deception. To be blunt, it is a story of raw and unadulterated family dysfunction. Amy Merrill Willis, Assistant Professor of Religious Studies at Lynchburg College, explains it well, “The biblical writers understood family to be the foundational unit of society and religious experience, and they understood this particular family (beginning with Abraham and Sarah) to be the foundation of ancient Israelite society and religion. As such, these stories explore not only the complications of domestic ties, they also explore the connection between family dynamics, social customs, and covenantal life.” Once again, not too reassuring. Are we to come to the conclusion that since the foundational family of ancient Israelite society was one marred with favoritism, competition, and deceit that we too should hold the same standards? Should we too aim for the largest inheritance? Are we destined to strive to be our parents’ “favorite” child?  Certainly, in today’s ultra competitive, me-first world, this narrative can be massaged into a dangerous message. Act on impulses and desires. Form allegiances and alliances. Create division and separation. Gain and maintain supremacy. In his essay on this story, Divine Redemption in Our Human Families: Lessons from Esau and Jacob, Dan Clendenin writes this, “None of the players in this story come off well. They give the lie to so-called Biblical "family values." None of them offered better mettle for the history of salvation. Far from it.” Furthermore, Russell Rathbun, minister of the House of Mercy in St. Paul, Minnesota, when reflecting on this story, asks this piercing question “How do we find anything like Good News in the way this not-completely-trustworthy-trickster-god treats this family?”

          So I ask you, where is the Good News? The Good News is in fact right in the thick of these difficult and trying familial relationships. The Good News is buried deep among the sibling opposition and the parental favoritism. The Good News is intravenously intertwined amid the dysfunction. We do not need to be perfect, our families do not need to perfect, and, in fact, perfection is at the very antithesis of God’s desire for our lives and for our families. This is the redemptive message of God’s grace: Grace abounds despite dysfunction. The authors of the text A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament explain it in this way, “Moreover, such conflicts seem to be a way in which the Deity is working out the divine purpose in this family. Among other things, this story attests to conflict as a regular element of human existence, particularly in the familial setting.”  God’s grace, and thus God’s divine blessing, dives right into the deep end of family dysfunction and swims among us. We are encouraged to be human, to make mistakes, and to live into the normalcy that is conflict and competition. Esther M. Menn, Professor of Old Testament at the Lutheran School of Theology, explains it well, “Conflict is often viewed as something to be avoided, ignored, or quickly resolved. The story of Esau and Jacob challenges us to acknowledge rivalry as a part of life. Even through our struggles, God is present and active extending blessings to all peoples.” Conflict and chaos among our families is unavoidable. God’s grace among the conflict and chaos in our families is undeniable. God embraces and celebrates the muck and mess that is family. Dan Clendenin writes it beautifully, “And therein we can take encouragement. These people and their families look, feel, sound and act suspiciously like our own. Yet God worked mightily through the statistical improbabilities and practical challenges of infertility, multiple births and deviant behavior. In [God’s] gracious hands the incidental, the accidental and the ordinary become the material of redemptive history, both in ancient Israel and in our own families today.”   

          Later on, we would ask my dad about that day. He recounted the hilarity of it. The loud, violent screams which sounded like modern warfare, the intense boom of the cupboard door breaking, and bone chilling silence that directly followed. Of course he had heard it all and of course he knew we had broken something. We were not nearly as sneaky as we thought we were. To this day our cupboard is still broken, still mended by layers of masking tape and duck tape. It is a constant reminder and lasting testament to the abounding grace God has for our lives. It may not always be pretty, it may require the aid of duck tape, and it certainly is not perfect, yet God’s grace finds it place comfortably at the table eating and drinking among the chaos and calamity.

          Thanks be to God for the overwhelming gift that is grace. For it is in this grace, in the most unexpected places, where we find ourselves, redeemed and sustained. Amen.