April 23, 2006 Sermon

Deal, Or No Deal?
Genesis 25:19-34

Anybody who thinks the people in the Bible are a bunch of goody-two-shoes has not read the Bible carefully enough.

Judas’ betrayal of Jesus would make a great episode of Law and Order. It has conspiracy, bribery, murder and suicide. The religious authorities are in it up to their prayer shawls. Some dark, brooding actor, somebody like Ralph Fiennes, fresh from his portrayal of the Evil Lord Voldemort in the latest Harry Potter movie, could play Judas.

David and Bathsheeba make Desperate Housewives look like Leave It to Beaver. David, God’s chosen king, sees a woman bathing and lusts after her. Though he already has a few wives he plots to get her. David orders her husband into the fiercest battle in the current war. The man gets killed. David sleeps with his wife.

We just read about Esau and Jacob. For the longest time I saw this story from Jacob’s point of view. From there it looks like a lot of fun. You’re just minding your own business, cooking supper. Your dumb brother comes in from the wilderness, starving. He begs you to feed him. You make him promise to give you his share of the inheritance before you give him a bowl. What a cool trick! It sounds like an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. Two brothers have a long history of fighting over stupid, meaningless things. No doubt their mom or their wives will resolve the whole situation before the final commercial.

But try looking at it from Esau’s point of view. You were born first, giving you a double share of the inheritance. Yet even in your mother’s womb your grasping little brother had you by the heel. From the start he has tried to steal what belongs to you. You like to roam and hunt; he likes to stay home and watch the flocks. Though your father loves you, your mother makes no secret of her preference for him.

You have gone out wandering. You have found no game. You are starving. You stumble home, close to death. Your wimpy little brother stands there, calmly cooking a meal. Too weak just to take it from him, you demand that he feed you. But no! Of course he will not do the easy, right thing. He makes you promise to give him your share of the inheritance. You try a non-committal, non-binding answer: “Look, I’m dying here. What good is the inheritance to me right now?” But your stupid little brother is too smart to fall for that. “Promise first!” he demands.

You are so hungry you promise.

Sometimes we let our hunger lead us into selling off precious things. Do not sell out on your faith. It is worth more even than Esau’s double share of the inheritance.

Isaac was Abraham’s son, his beloved son of old age. Though God had promised a son to Abraham and Sarah, they grew old before the promise came true. Now Isaac and his wife Rebekah have the same problem. Isaac prays for a son. God, still keeping the promise to Abraham that his descendents will fill the Promised Land, grants the prayer. Rebekah conceives. But the twins in her womb tussle—apparently more than the average pair of babies. Rebekah prays for understanding. (Or perhaps she prays to get them to settle down, the text does not specify.) God tells Rebekah, “Two nations are in your womb…and the older will serve the younger.”

Consider this message. Any mother would immediately understand that her children would become rivals. They will become so divided their descendents will come to be seen as two nations. And the younger will rule the elder, a reversal of the norm, a contradiction of the usual pattern in a Hebrew family. Rebekah takes sides. She prefers Jacob, the younger twin. Father Isaac prefers Esau. A family of four has six two-person relationships. Not one of the six pairs in this family of four has a healthy, loving relationship. This is no situation comedy; it belongs, rather, to the realm of tragedy.

Esau shows us how easily we can let our hunger lead us around by the nose. He shows us how lightly we can sell off even our most precious possessions when starving. Do not sell out on your faith.

We must learn how to tell when our hunger is leading us away from God. We must learn how to tell the difference between the healthy hunger that feeds us, and destructive hunger. Starting a couple of years ago I developed the hunger for a building addition to our church. When the addition did not happen quickly the elders and I had to question whether it was God’s will that we build. Some elders (and members) believe not. Others believe it is time. I believe so. I have prayed about it. I have asked God, “Does my desire to build come from an unhealthy desire to prove myself? Do I want an addition so I can feel good about my leadership of this congregation?”

While it is certainly possible that my motives are not pure, I believe that we do need to build. I believe that God calls us to do this. We are working on making it happen. We will host a community dinner on May 13 to raise more funds for it. I do not hear God calling me to back down on this issue. I could explain why I believe this but it is more important to focus in this sermon on the hunger thing. I have had to learn whether my hunger for a building addition is constructive (as it were), or destructive. I have tried to learn this through prayer and conversation with many elders and members whose opinions I value.

The Bible gives us a name for this hunger that can lead us away from God: pride. Do I want a bigger building from pride? I pray and believe I do not. Yet it is always possible. All human beings struggle with pride. Pride is a sin. It makes all the lists of sins in the New Testament. What is pride but hunger for respect? We long to have the respect of others, to look good in their eyes. We want to be proud.

But pride can pull brothers apart. Pride can destroy marriages. Pride can poison churches. And pride can erase faith in God. Pride played a role in the disintegration of Esau and Jacob’s relationship. Pride, or hunger for respect, also pulled each of them away from God. Pride can cause us to sell out on our relationship with God, too.

The Apostle Paul called our faith a double inheritance. I do not know whether he referred specifically to Esau’s double inheritance, but the reference fits. Our faith in God is the most precious gift we can receive. Like an inheritance, we have done nothing to earn faith in Jesus Christ. It just comes to us. But we can let our hunger, our pride, take it away again.

Genesis 33 tells us that later in life Esau and Jacob overcame their pride and restored their relationship. Though each had real grievances against the other, each forgave and forgot. Do you have somebody you need to forgive? Does your pride, your hunger for respect, keep you from restoring that relationship?

This congregation has an ambitious vision. We believe God has created this church to grow: to grow followers of Jesus and to grow this congregation. But in order for us to live and serve God together, our pride must not tear us apart. Nor may our pride tear us away from God. Let your faith in Jesus Christ grow stronger by letting your pride grow weaker. Pray for a clear understanding of your heart. Ask God to show you where your hungers are destroying your faith and your connections to your fellow believers. Then ask God to give you the strength to be weak. Let your pride end. Let your walk with God continue.