God Provides Blessings: When the Story Goes Awry

Over these past few weeks, we’ve begun to hear the story. The story of how our relationship--how all of humanity’s relationship with the living God is a story of blessing upon blessing. We first heard of the blessings of creation and how we are called to create, and to build up and to contribute to our world. Last week, we heard the hard story of Abraham, called by God to sacrifice his own son. Who trusted that God would see God’s promise of land and nation through to fulfillment. And who, in the end, saw that God blessed Abraham with a different sacrifice. Not only for him, but for us, too.  

So, what happens when the story goes awry? How does all of this work when the blessing is stolen? When God gives God’s blessing to someone we perceive as completely unworthy. Or undeserving?

Our story today begins in Genesis, chapter 27.

When Isaac was old and his eyes were so weak that he could no longer see, he called for Esau his older son and said to him, “My son.”

“Here I am,” he answered.

Isaac said, “I am now an old man and don’t know the day of my death. Now then, get your equipment—your quiver and bow—and go out to the open country to hunt some wild game for me. Prepare me the kind of tasty food I like and bring it to me to eat, so that I may give you my blessing before I die.”

As our story opens today, Isaac is now an old man. He and Rebekah, his wife, have been extraordinarily blessed by God with large herds, a number of servants, and much wealth. They are the parents of twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Esau, the oldest, will be entitled to both the birthright and the blessing under their cultural norms. This means that Esau can expect to be quite wealthy upon the death of Isaac--that he can expect to receive two thirds of all of his father’s estate.

But, birthright doesn’t only come with wealth. It also comes with power. Esau will be the leader of his family. His brother, Jacob, and all of Jacob’s family will be expected to respect and honor his wishes, as the oldest son and family patriarch.

Then, there is the blessing. This is more personal for Esau. It is the blessing given by God, first to Abraham, Esau’s grandfather. Then to his father Isaac. The blessing--the promise--that God would make a great nation out of Abraham and his descendants and that God would bless them to be a blessing to others.

With both the family birthright and the promised blessing of God, there is a great future ahead for Esau.

And, then, it all falls apart. We continue in chapter 27.

Then Rebekah took the best clothes of Esau her older son, which she had in the house, and put them on her younger son Jacob. She also covered his hands and the smooth part of his neck with the goatskins. Then she handed to her son Jacob the tasty food and the bread she had made.

He went to his father and said, “My father.”

“Yes, my son,” he answered. “Who is it?”

Jacob said to his father, “I am Esau your firstborn. I have done as you told me. Please sit up and eat some of my game, so that you may give me your blessing.”

Isaac asked his son, “How did you find it so quickly, my son?”

“The Lord your God gave me success,” he replied.

Then Isaac said to Jacob, “Come near so I can touch you, my son, to know whether you really are my son Esau or not.”

Jacob went close to his father Isaac, who touched him and said, “The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” He did not recognize him, for his hands were hairy like those of his brother Esau; so he proceeded to bless him.

It all begins with family dysfunction. We get a premonition of this dysfunction at the very beginning of their story, when Esau and Jacob are still in Rebekah’s womb. She experiences a difficult pregnancy. So she turns to God who tells her that the two sons she is carrying will become two nations. That the younger of the two will be the strongest and that the older will be his servant.

Then, in earlier chapters, we also read about how different Esau and Jacob were--physically and temperamentally. Esau was ruddy and handsome, an outdoorsman, a “man’s man.” He was Isaac’s favorite.

Then there’s Jacob. More delicate. With a preference to remain indoors, especially in the kitchen. Perhaps, a  “mama’s boy.” Yet, smarter than Esau, a schemer. And that Jacob was Rebekah’s favorite.

Why does family dysfunction happen? We can already begin to see problems in this family, in the way the sons are treated, in the favoritism shown. But, what if we look at the issue of power in this family? And consider who has the power and how power imbalance in relationships and in families and in communities can often result in back door maneuvers and behind the scenes scheming to get one’s way, especially, when one has no power.

Why does Rebekah scheme and go behind Isaac’s back? In an earlier chapter, she has been told directly by God that Jacob is the one to receive the birthright. This is out of order for this patrilineal and patriarchal world. Perhaps, if Rebekah had experienced the same status as Isaac - perhaps she might have gone to him directly and told him the truth - that Jacob was the one to receive the birthright and the blessing. And not Esau.

But this was not her reality. She would not be heard or taken seriously enough to make Isaac change his mind. And so, her only option was to scheme.

It’s the same issue with Jacob. He knows that he will be at the end of the inheritance chain. That his oldest brother will receive everything and that his future will be in the hands of this brother, who is so unlike him. He, too, lacks power in this family. He, too, schemes and goes along with Rebekah’s plan. 

How often do we see this in our own families? In our communities? In our world? Where those without power feel they have no recourse but to sneak around or to scheme to get what they want which is simply a balance of power. I’ve seen this in my own family and have mentioned before the impact of an imbalance of power between my older brother and sister and the lifelong effects it had on my sister. 

Or consider this week’s news story about the Haitian immigrants at the border, trying to find a way across when the laws say they can’t. And being stopped at the border by our government in a way that brings to mind other images from our history, other times when people simply wanted to be free and equal. But the laws kept them from it. 

Rebekah and Jacob are successful in their subterfuge. With Isaac’s failing eyesight and the deception of his wife and son, we read in our text that Isaac mistakenly gives the blessing to Jacob. A blessing that can’t be taken back. A blessing that should have gone to Esau. Who, when he hears of this, is outraged and plots to kill Jacob. His brother. Who is now on the run.

Our story concludes in chapter 28.

Jacob left Beersheba and set out for Harran. When he reached a certain place, he stopped for the night because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones there, he put it under his head and lay down to sleep. He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. There above it stood the Lord, and he said: “I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”

When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.” He was afraid and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven.”

Jacob finds himself on the run, alone, in the wilderness. Our story says he came to “a certain place.” The original Hebrew reads that Jacob came to “the place.” There’s a definite article here. To the place. The setting of last week’s story, where the near sacrifice of Isaac happened. Also the place where Solomon would eventually build the temple - the highest place in what will become Jerusalem. 

Jacob does not know this. All he knows is that he’s tired. Tired of running. Tired of being alone without family or friends. In a desolate place. By himself. With a stone for a pillow.

He dreams a wild dream. A vision of a stairway that stretches from earth to heaven. These stairways in ancient times were considered the thin places between heaven and earth. Close to the dwelling places of the gods. Traversed by priests who would go back and forth to provide communication from the gods to the people. 

But here, at the top of the stairway, God stands and speaks directly to Jacob. Words of promise. The same promise spoken to Abraham, Jacob’s grandfather: of land and people and blessing. But, perhaps, more importantly, is God’s promise of presence. That, even in the midst of the challenges of Jacob’s life, God will be present with him. 

That’s our promise, too. Whether we are the ones with power or without it, God promises to be present for us. To be with us. At work. Reconciling us with each other and with all creation through Jesus, the incarnate One sent into the midst of our sin and dysfunction. To bind us together with earth and heaven. To make us one.

Like Jacob, we say, “How awesome is this place!” And add, “How awesome is this God!” Amen. 

Preached September 26, 2021, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, and Third Lutheran, Louisville.
Pentecost 18

Readings: Genesis 27:1-4, 15-23; 28:10-17; John 1:50-51

Finding God in Hard Places

When Isaac was old and his eyes were dim so that he could not see, he called his elder son Esau and said to him, “My son”; and he answered, “Here I am.” He said, “See, I am old; I do not know the day of my death. Now then, take your weapons, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field, and hunt game for me. Then prepare for me savory food, such as I like, and bring it to me to eat, so that I may bless you before I die.”

Then Rebekah took the best garments of her elder son Esau, which were with her in the house, and put them on her younger son Jacob; and she put the skins of the kids on his hands and on the smooth part of his neck. Then she handed the savory food, and the bread that she had prepared, to her son Jacob.

So he went in to his father, and said, “My father”; and he said, “Here I am; who are you, my son?” Jacob said to his father, “I am Esau your firstborn. I have done as you told me; now sit up and eat of my game, so that you may bless me.” But Isaac said to his son, “How is it that you have found it so quickly, my son?” He answered, “Because the Lord your God granted me success.” Then Isaac said to Jacob, “Come near, that I may feel you, my son, to know whether you are really my son Esau or not.” So Jacob went up to his father Isaac, who felt him and said, “The voice is Jacob’s voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” He did not recognize him, because his hands were hairy like his brother Esau’s hands; so he blessed him.

Now Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him, and Esau said to himself, “The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob.” But the words of her elder son Esau were told to Rebekah; so she sent and called her younger son Jacob and said to him, “Your brother Esau is consoling himself by planning to kill you. Now therefore, my son, obey my voice; flee at once to my brother Laban in Haran, and stay with him a while, until your brother’s fury turns away— until your brother’s anger against you turns away, and he forgets what you have done to him; then I will send, and bring you back from there. Why should I lose both of you in one day?”

Jacob left Beer-sheba and went toward Haran. He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And the Lord stood beside him and said, “I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring; and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south; and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!” And he was afraid, and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”  Gen. 27:1-4, 15-23, 41-45; 28:10-17 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God--Creator, Redeemer, and Renewer. Amen.

Over these past few weeks, we’ve begun to hear the story. The story of how our relationship--how all of humanity’s relationship with the living God is a story of blessing upon blessing. We first read about the blessings of creation and our special responsibility to care for it. We then saw how God blessed Abraham through a difficult time--saw the obedience of Abraham who was willing to sacrifice his own son, who trusted that God was big enough to see God’s promise through to fulfillment and how, in the end, God did not ask Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.  How just, at the right time, God provided the sacrifice.

So, what happens when story goes awry? How does all of this work when the blessing is stolen? When God gives God’s blessing to someone we perceive as completely unworthy and undeserving?

As our story opens today, Isaac is now an old man. He and Rebekah, his wife, have been extraordinarily blessed by God with large herds, a number of servants, and much wealth. They are the parents of twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Esau, the oldest, will be entitled to both the birthright and the blessing under their cultural norms. This means that Esau can expect to be quite wealthy upon the death of Isaac--that he can expect to receive two thirds of all of his father’s estate.

But, the birthright doesn’t only come with wealth. It also comes with power. Esau will be the leader of his family. His brother, Jacob, and all of Jacob’s family will be expected to respect and honor his wishes, as the oldest son and family patriarch.

Then, there is the blessing. This is more personal for Esau. It is the blessing given by God, first to Abraham, Esau’s grandfather. Then to his father Isaac. The blessing--the promise--that God would make a great nation out of Abraham and his descendants and that God would bless them to be a blessing to others.

With both the family birthright and the promised blessing of God, there is a great future ahead for Esau.

And, then, it all falls apart.

It begins with family dysfunction. We get a premonition of this dysfunction at the very beginning of their story, when Esau and Jacob are still in Rebekah’s womb. She experiences a difficult pregnancy. So she turns to God who tells her that the two sons she is carrying will become two nations. That the younger of the two will be the strongest and that the older will be his servant.

Then, in earlier chapters, we also read about how different Esau and Jacob were--physically and temperamentally. Esau was ruddy and handsome, an outdoorsman, a “man’s man.” And that he was Isaac’s favorite.

Then there’s Jacob. He was more delicate. He preferred to stay indoors, particularly in the kitchen. A “mama’s boy.” Yet, smarter than Esau, a schemer. And that Jacob was Rebekah’s favorite.

This family dysfunction plays out one day in the kitchen, where Jacob has just finished cooking a full pot of lentil stew. Esau enters, famished after a full day of hunting. Tricked by Jacob, Esau gives up his birthright--the two thirds of his father’s wealth--in exchange for a bowl of lentil soup.

We see this same dysfunction in today’s lesson. This time, both Jacob and Rebekah are engaged in trickery. In scheming to deprive Esau, who has already lost his birthright. To deprive Esau out of the blessing, too. That more personal promise he is to inherit from Isaac--that promise from God for his future and for his family’s future. 

Rebekah and Jacob are successful in their subterfuge. With Isaac’s failing eyesight and the deception of his wife and son, we read in our text that Isaac mistakenly gives the blessing to Jacob. That, in a similar twist and in exchange for a bowl of savory food, of delicacies, of “rich food,” Isaac gives the blessing to Jacob. A blessing of wealth and power and, eventually, the ancestral blessing of God’s promise. A blessing that can’t be taken back.

Esau is outraged. He is beside himself with anger and frustration. “Bless me, me, too, Father!” he cries out bitterly to Isaac. “Haven’t you reserved a blessing for me?” He says, in tears, to his father. And, then, Esau plots to kill Jacob. To wait until their father has died and the days of mourning have passed. And, then, to kill Jacob. His brother.

Rebekah gets wind of Esau’s plan. She convinces Jacob to leave. To run away. To escape the wrath of his brother. To flee to the home of his uncle, Laban--Rebekah’s brother. Back to the ancestral land of Abraham, Jacob’s grandfather. 

Family dysfunction. Playing favorites. The ongoing patterns of deception that continue on and on. The evasion. The covering up. The running away. These all become patterns of life. And Jacob, in particular, is complicit for much of what has happened. For much of the family dysfunction.

Yet, Jacob doesn’t live happily ever after, as tricksters rarely do. In the story, Jacob finds himself on the run, alone, in the wilderness. Somewhere between the home he has left behind and that of his uncle. 

Our story says he came to “a certain place.” The original Hebrew reads that Jacob came to “the place.” There’s a definite article here. To the place.  As though the reader will know exactly where this is. Early Jewish writings tell us that this is Moriah. This place--Mount Moriah--has special significance. It’s where the near sacrifice of Isaac happened. It’s also the place where Solomon would eventually build the temple. The temple on the highest place in Jerusalem.

Jacob does not know this. All he knows is that he is tired. He is tired of running and he is all alone. Without family or friends. In a desolate place. All by himself.  With a stone for a pillow. 

And, then, the dream begins. It is a wild dream. A wild vision of a stairway stretching from earth to heaven, with angels--messengers of God--moving first up the stairway and then back down. Over and over. Up and down. From earth to heaven and back down again.

Early Jewish writings compare this stairway to those attached to temple towers in the ancient Near East. These stairways were considered microcosms of the world--that the top of the tower represented heaven, the dwelling place of the gods. And that priests would traverse the stairway between heaven and earth and provide communication from the gods to the people. These writings challenge this notion. They argue that this dream is evidence that God speaks God’s own words--words of promise. And that, in this dream, God is personally present with Jacob.

Whatever its interpretation, Jacob wakes up. He realizes that this place is the place--a holy place. A place of God. He takes the stone he has been using for a pillow, anoints it with oil and sets it upright to mark this place. Then, Jacob names this place Beth-el, meaning “house of God.” It is here, in this place of wilderness, in the midst of life and of suffering, in this hard place, that God has been present for Jacob.  Eventually Israel would build walls around this place and invite people to it as a place of sanctuary, as a holy place. That they will mistakenly believe that it is only in this place where God is to be found.

We often make that same mistake. Believing that God is only to be found here, inside these walls. What this story teaches us that, in fact, God is found out there. In the wilderness, in the midst of life and of suffering, in the hard places. In the messiness of our lives. It is in the hidden and most obscure, in the darkest places of our lives and of our world that God is most present. At work. Reconciling.

Because that, ultimately, is how the story of Jacob and Esau will end. With reconciliation. Jacob comes back. Just like we come back. To God, who has always been present with us and who refuses to let our dysfunctional pasts determine our futures. Where those patterns are altered through God’s grace. 

Ultimately, it is Jesus, who becomes the embodiment of this presence of God in the midst of human sin and dysfunction.  It is Jesus who is like the stairway in Jacob’s dream. Jesus, who binds together earth and heaven. Jesus, through whom we find God in the midst of the hard places. We find God just like Jacob did. Present, even when we don’t realize it. 

This is the story of Jacob. It is our story. Mostly, though, it is the story of God. How, despite the obstacles we throw in the way, despite the tragedy or our sinfulness, despite the wilderness of our lives and our world, God sees a much bigger picture than we can. God sees where the blessings lie hidden. And God uncovers them to God’s glory.  And brings us back. Home. To the house of God.

With Jacob, we, too, can proclaim, “How awesome is this place!” And, mostly, “how awesome is our God!” Amen.