In reading Genesis, we encounter many incredible passages. The recounting of the lives of the patriarchs and their families is often more intriguing than the stories created for modern soap operas or reality TV shows.  Reading of Isaac, his wives, and his sons we find ourselves drawn into a brother vs brother conflict as old as, well, as old as Genesis!

In years past, a beautiful young maiden was chosen to be Isaac’s bride, as an answer to the prayer of Abraham’s servant who had been sent to find a worthy woman.  Now, in a society valuing above all else a woman’s ability to bring forth sons, she faces despair as she is childless.  You can imagine how she felt, knowing from the time of her engagement that she was the Lord’s choice for her husband, yet she remains childless.

Rebekah’s husband Isaac prayed for his wife, relying on God to provide children for them, and in another answer to prayer, Rebekah becomes pregnant.  Isaac married Rebekah at 40 years of age, but waited for twenty years before Rebekah became pregnant.  During the pregnancy, unusual physical sensations led Rebekah to ask the Lord for understanding, and in His answer, the Lord revealed that two children were inside her womb.

In His answer, more information than the medical diagnosis also was revealed.  In a few sentences, Rebekah learns that she is carrying two boys, that the boys would be fathers of two separate peoples, and that the older would serve the younger.  Think of today, where families visit medical doctors and learn of many wonderful things about the baby inside…gender, size, due date, and health.  Even with sonograms, computers and medical tests today’s mothers don’t know the future as well as Rebekah did.

Two more different brothers could not be found.  Appearance, voice, size, skills, and occupations were completely opposite.  As we think about the story, we can visualize what life might have been like for Isaac.  One son, a fearsome hunter, capable with weapons, able to sustain himself in the harsh wilderness would likely be a source of pride.  The second son, preferring to stay in the camp with the women, might be introduced as if he were not even a relative, perhaps even with some embarrassment. For Rebekah, having one son remain in the camp, learning from her, and treasuring time together would have been incredibly rewarding.  Rarely seeing her older son, her heart would be saddened as he returned with the bounty of the field.  Years of this upbringing have created an uneasy family tension between parents, between father and sons, and between brothers.

In that difficult family dynamic, we can see an arrangement that probably kept the family together over the years.  The older brother prefers to work outside the camp, providing for the camp by hunting wild game, yet relying on the camp for a base of operations.  The younger brother stays in the safe area, learning and becoming proficient at the skills of women, benefiting everyone there.  But, he in turn enjoys the bounty brought in from the outside.  One might call this a “win-win” situation, and from the outside, it appears that all is well.

Anyone who has hunted wild game has often been unsuccessful, and at the end of the day, returned home completely whipped.  Even when game is harvested, the effort takes so much out of the hunter that he collapses at the door, just glad to have made it back. Modern hunters feel great empathy for the older brother, and also understand what it is like to have someone at home making a delicious meal as a welcome back gesture. Today driving our 1/2 ton pickup trucks through the suburbs after hours in the field, we can’t smell the welcome aromas of the camp kitchen, but the older brother might have sensed the satisfying smells of a wood fire and fragrant food for a half-mile or more.  Think of how he must have felt, trudging one foot in front of another, just trying to make it there, guided in part by the smoke and the smell.

In a moment of utter exhaustion, after much time in the field, the older son demands of the younger a portion of this hearty stew.  If we quickly read the story, without pause, it is possible to overlook details of the event that were obvious to those of the culture. Instead of willingly providing a brother in need with what is obviously necessary, the younger demands something in return. Instead of asking for something tangible, like the best portion of the next successful hunt, he asks for legal standing in the family order. Instead of trusting the brother’s response, he demands a contract, an obligation, a binding oral agreement.  Obviously this family is fractured, and is only remaining together out of necessity and tradition.  The “win-win” arrangement here shows a lack of love, a lack of trust, and the lack of brotherhood.

We read next “So Esau despised his birthright.”  The story ends with a sentence so short, we can take it to be both the climax of the tale, as well as the most valuable observation.  In the oral tradition of the time, those hearing this might have covered their mouth in shock, and began to whisper “can you believe this?”  Why does the story end so?

Most of those listening would not have a birthright, and would also have enjoyed having this valuable asset.  The value of the birthright at this time was two–as in two for one. When the father died, two of everything would be given to the older, with only one of those going to the younger.  Two goats for one.  Two sheep for one.  Two chickens for one.  The older would receive double the property of the younger.  Today, in our last wills and testaments, the language often reads that property is divided equally between children. Not so in this time and place.

And in this shocking moment, where something of great value was sold for the price of a McDonald’s value meal, we see the obvious practical advice.  Don’t allow yourself to get overtired.  Don’t push so hard that you run out of energy. Don’t work so hard that your judgment is impaired.  Don’t agree on something without taking time to think about it. Don’t sell your birthright! Ever!

To be sure, this practical advice has some benefit.  As we think about the outcome of the story, it is possible to see greater principles, as we consider different ways these brothers might have lived.  Rather than living apart, could they have lived in harmony? Instead of becoming proficient in different professions, could they have shared in each other’s tasks?  In place of time primarily spent with one parent, could they have sought to fellowship with both father and mother?

God has, in giving us a family, and siblings, a way to become as He desires us to be.  Let us remember that this journey of discovery of self can be ever more fulfilling when we put aside our selfish nature and share.  Share in life’s hardships.  Share in life’s leisure. Share life in love.

As many people read the account of the flood, found in Genesis chapters 6 through 9, they focus on the technical details of a huge boat and the nature of the deluge. They wonder how a boat of a given size could be built, by someone who never made one. They puzzle over the number of animals, the need for animal food, and of course, where the animal waste went. There are many seemingly logical questions.

As I reread the passage today, I realized that the message is not in the details of the event, but in the beginning and ending verses. God saw man, now evil in every way, and decided to end humanity in His justice.  After the flood, as Noah sacrificed to Him, God saw man look to Him in worship. Independent of man’s acts, He decided to maintain the earth in His mercy.

In the account, what is more important is that God is revealed to us! It is not the ark, not the animals, not the flood. God is holy and just, but most importantly, merciful. We see ourselves as by nature evil, sinners, and even though redeemed, likely to sin again.  God is shown to be eternal, powerful, inspiring, righteous, just, and forbearing.

As we read the flood account, let us focus on God and His nature, rather than on the story of the ark, its size, the animals, and the water. Let us rejoice that God has granted us a brief moment on earth to enjoy fellowship with each other and to worship Him.

In the interconnected world, the free exchange of ideas, images, icons, idioms, and even intrigue means we are all subjected to a never-ending stream of digital data.  The sharing of music and its power is made simpler by social media and streaming sites.  On social media, I am frequently encouraged to listen to an a capella singing group, and at this Christmas season, I enjoyed their rendition of a sacred song.

The comments on the song were predictable.  Many were mean, disparaging, and critical of the group for singing a sacred song when at least two of the members are practicing a lifestyle that many describe as sinful, based on an understanding of the Bible. Others came to the group’s defense, claiming that judgment is God’s alone.

The song itself proclaims the truth of Christ, in an imaginary dialog with Christ’s earthly mother Mary.  The song is without doubt one of the most beautiful and memorable melodies of this canon of work.  It was written many years ago by a distinguished artist, and has been covered a multitude of times. This version was truly delightful, and reminded me of my Lord in a moving way.

And, in so doing, it reminded me that we all fail.  We fail in ways that some consider small and inconsequential, and we fail in ways that would shame us even in this day and age.  No one is pure.  Today, I failed to be charitable and kind.  Tomorrow, I will fail again, in some other way.

I can’t answer the question “should a person in sin proclaim the Gospel of Christ?” without asking “who is without sin?”  I can, though, even without sinless purity, proclaim Christ as my risen Lord and Savior!  May He bring me closer to His intended creation of man in fellowship with God, as He covers my sin by His sacrifice.

I encourage us all to reflect on our relationship with God and family in this wonderful time of year.  May Christ come to you this season, and remain with you forever more.