“The Stories We Tell”

July 12, 2020: May God’s words be spoken, may God’s words be heard.  Amen.

I have never been pregnant myself – it would be nearly impossible now, unless a star is rising in the East somewhere – but I suspect that many women who have been can relate to something we heard in the Genesis story this morning.  Rebekah, who is the wife of Isaac, is pregnant.  Isaac, as you might recall from a few weeks ago, was nearly the sacrificial lamb of his crazy dad Abraham.  Anyway, like father like son, his wife is barren.  But unlike his dad, rather than taking the whole child thing into his own hands by sleeping with the slave of his wife, Isaac turns it over to God through prayer.  That sure saved a lot of unneeded heartache for everyone.   

Still, not all was well, as Rebekah was having a rough time, because she was bearing twins – and these two kids were making it absolutely impossible to think about what color to make the tent nursery.  As we heard in the text, “the children struggled together within her; and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” I suspect Isaac isn’t the first, or the last, spouse to hear something like that in the latter stages of pregnancy for their wives. 

So, Rebekah does what anyone would do, right?  She “went to inquire of the Lord,” you know, like “WTF God – seriously?” And you know what God said, right?  We heard it today.  Essentially – “Look, Rebekah, you think you are having two kids, but really there’s a fight of two nations going on inside that womb of yours – and they ain’t gonna be making peace any time soon.  The older one will serve the younger.  Now, how about some pickles and ice cream – I hear that’s a great combo!”

Thankfully for poor Rebekah, the birth finally came. As we heard, “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.”

Now hold on right there – who cares how old Isaac is – he isn’t doin’ the heavy lifting here.  Anyway, you know how they say “gee, kids really seem to grow up fast, don’t they?” Yup – as in the very next paragraph – they are now young men. And here is where we find out what was going on in that womb.

Esau is a hunter and comes in from being in the fields all day – hungry as all get out to find that his younger brother Jacob had been cooking up a sweet smelling stew.  Here is what we are told about this pivotal moment in their lives:

“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.”

Neat story, right?  But what does it have to do with us?  I mean, isn’t this a family matter?  And so what if Jacob was a weasel, he is one of our biblical patriarchs, so the good guy right?  After all, Esau was the stupid one.  He was the one who despised his birthright (otherwise known as giving it up for nothing).

Alright – hold my beer. 

First, just so we are all clear, a birthright was given to the eldest son, and meant that Esau would get 2/3 of his father’s estate, and Jacob would get 1/3.  So, now, Esau will get nothing, and Jacob everything.  Now, did you notice that whole bit about Esau’s appearance and demeanor?  Red, hairy, brutish, and in the story too stupid to realize he was being made the fool?  Remember too that thing God said about there being two nations fighting in Rebekah’s womb? Hold those things in your head for a bit, and then let’s remember what we are hearing is one of the stories told over meals and by fires for generations upon generations. These scriptures were passed on orally through many a century before ever finding their way to words on papyrus.  They are the collective set of stories of one group of people – the Israelites.  When Jacob had that wresting match with God, you know what his name became as the sun rose that fateful morning?  God said he would be forevermore known as Israel. 

Esau, on the other hand, would become the patriarch of Edom, which means red, and the Edomites.  Now, wanna guess as to whether or not these two nations – Israel and Edom – got along?  If you think they weren’t best buds – you won the Jeopardy category of Ancient Near Eastern Kingdoms.  There are historical and biblical references to this conflict, that I won’t get into here, because it really doesn’t matter.  What is important for us it to note the way Esau was depicted in derisive ways – a red, hairy, brute, too stupid to keep his birthright – to justify Jacob’s deception – to justify Israel’s right to land.  Yup – it’s all about national boundaries and land claims.

Now, I have no doubt that the Edomites had their own oral traditions that told a very different version of events, but suffice it to say, it is to our own peril if we don’t question what we are told when it comes to groups of people, or nations, as we hear in the text, because we may just end up believing them.

And here’s the thing – we do have done it too.

We have passed down from generation to generation our own stereotypes or historical fantasies to justify our actions or inactions, our prejudices or fears, our greed or hate – that we may feel justified in depriving another of their birthright – the one given to all by God – life, liberty, love, and grace.

Think about it.  We watch movies and TV shows that support the myth that “we” tamed the Wild West.  They were red, savage, brutes who deserved their fate – sound familiar? This is a lie, and we are still lying. The West wasn’t tamed – it was stolen through the demonization of whole groups of peoples.  The taming we claim was in the form of forced marches, stolen land, and a systemic pattern of genocide.  And our children play cowboys and Indians, while we root for teams called Redskins, generation after generation, as we continue to steal their land for our oil, call them lazy drunkards, lump them all into one group rather than seeing the diversity of individual nations, and ignore their cries for help as the Navajo nation suffers under the highest per capita rate of COVID-19 infections.

This is the story we tell.

People cling to the flag of a rebellion against our government, a remnant of the Antebellum South – where the sin of slavery was undergirded by the fiction we chose to tell – they had a dark skin color, were stupid, brutish, uncivilized – sound familiar?   They weren’t human – and their enslavement a gift of civilization to them.  Why we even said they were happy about it – look, they are dancing and singing.  It was all a lie, and we are still lying.  We depict people of color differently in the news, we jail them at higher rates, we call 911 if they dare to come near, we murder them while they cry “I can’t breathe,” and we tell them they are selfish for claiming their lives matter.

This is the story we tell.

And then there are those Mexicans – they are brown, stupid, and lazy – sound familiar?  They cheat our immigration system, steal our jobs, and don’t even pay taxes while they try to snag benefits.  This is a lie, and we are still lying.  So, we kidnap their kids, put them in cages, strip them of all dignity – their fault.  Meanwhile we enjoy the fruits of their labor – the labor we are unwilling to do.  We enjoy the benefits from the taxes they have paid, while denying them the same.

This is the story we tell.

Oh and women?  They are weaker, incapable, too emotional, not as smart as men, so it’s their fault if they get harassed, abused or raped – sound familiar?  This is a lie, and we lying.  Meanwhile we make excuses for men who rape and abuse women, while we assault their victims with accusations and innuendo.  We force our sisters to slam up against glass ceilings, while imposing double standards in all walks of life.  We continue to use all male imagery for God, even while knowing they too were created in God’s image, because we just can’t bear to let go of the idea that God can only be Father.

This is the story we tell.

And there are more, so many more: Jews are rich, Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs are terrorists, LGBTQ people are perverts, the addicted should just stop it, the depressed should just get over it, the poor are lazy, the homeless are bums, the incarcerated are scum.

These are the stories we tell.  They are lies and we must stop telling them.

To do that, we need to understand why we tell them in the first place – and it is the same reason for all of the stories we pass down – be it the Edomites, Indigenous tribal people of this country, African Americans, Mexicans and other brown people, women, LGBTQ people, and all the rest.  It isn’t about them, but about us – the story tellers.  We are Jacob.  And to be truthful – some of us are both Jacob & Esau – but it is the Jacob within us that we must face if we are ever to stop telling these stories to ourselves and to our children, perpetuating the fiction and the resulting divisions between the children of God on this earth.

And the thing is, we need only to remember the parable of the sower we heard in the gospel today to change ourselves and thereby the world. See, the reason we tell these stories, and perpetuate the resulting oppression, whether we realize it or not, is because we think, like Jacob, we aren’t going to get our fair share.  So we create in our minds the idea that somehow we are better and more deserving than “those other people,” making it all the easier then to steal their birthright – the right of all children of God to be free and live without fear.

Yet Jesus reminds us in the parable of the sower, that our God and our Creator, throws the seeds of grace so extravagantly everywhere.  You know, I imagine God almost dancing about – tossing seed with abandon from a never emptying pouch – all over the fields of the world – all over creation – and smiling and singing – maybe even doing a cartwheel once in awhile… letting the wind – the Holy Spirit – take the grace where it is needed… good rich soil, and rocks, and weedy places… everywhere…and on everyone.

The radical message of Jesus is that God’s grace has no boundaries – it is for poor and rich, women and men, gay and straight, all races, all cultures, all countries, and…all faiths – Muslims, Jews, Christians, Buddhists, Hindus. That is a powerful message – a radical message – a message we certainly need to hear today.  Because the only story we ever need to tell…is our own.  Everyone has a story – and all people’s stories are important – but we don’t get to write the story for others. This isn’t a competition folks, there is enough grace to go around, you need not try to steal it by cheating another group of people out of their birthright – to live freely and without persecution.

But what about those rocks, or the hardened paths, and the thorny places, you may be wondering.  If God’s grace is for all, how come the seed landed there?  What about those people?  Let’s take another approach to this parable, because the truth is – all of God’s creation begins as fertile soil, but we – in our fear of not having enough, we become like rocks keeping the fullness of grace from entering into our hearts.  As we tell our stories, we also become like the birds, stealing what is not ours to take, the birthright of our sisters and brothers.  And in the sorrow borne out of our abuse, we are the thorns that choke the hope of others to where they can no longer see God’s abundant grace at work in their lives.

We are Jacob, and our deceptions have been great.  Yet like him, we can change.  After climbing a ladder, more deceptions, and wrestling with God by the Jabbock, Jacob started to change. But it was in the act of asking forgiveness of Esau, and making offerings of repentance, albeit out of cowardice, that the blessing of God, which was always available to him, began to take root in his heart.  After Esau welcomed him with open arms, forgiving his brother, Jacob said to Esau “to see your face is like seeing the face of God—since you have received me with such favor.”

Perhaps then there is hope for us too – well, of course there is, for we are children of God – and hope is always there for us. 

We may be Jacob, but never forget that in our sacred texts God chooses some of the most dysfunctional, crazy, and downright weird folks through which to work toward Her dream for all of creation.  God chooses ordinary, faulty people – people just like Jacob, well really – all the patriarchs. 

People just like us. 

Folks, here’s the thing, we need only open our hearts to the  good news that God’s grace, the birthright of all people, isn’t like pie – you don’t have to take more than you need – we may just be willing to let go of the fear that makes us act with greed, hate, and malice towards our sisters and brothers. 

And if we do that, our hearts will cease being rocks, and become fertile ground once again for the seeds of grace God is throwing about everywhere, and we will never be the same. For it will take root in our very souls, and we will desire nothing more than to seek forgiveness and offer up our repentance in word and deed.

And the stories we tell from then on will be only of seeing the face of God in the Esau before us..

Amen.

For the audio from the 10:30am service, click below, or subscribe to our iTunes Sermon Podcast by clicking here:

Sermon Podcast

The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
July 12, 2020
Sixth Sunday After Pentecost – In A Time Of Separation
1st Reading – Genesis 25:19-34
Psalm 119:105-112
2nd Reading – Romans 8:1-11
Gospel – Matthew 13:1-9,18-23