Genesis 25:19-34 (NRSV)
19 These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, 20 and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-aram, sister of Laban the Aramean. 21 Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. 22 The children struggled together within her; and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her,
“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.”
24 When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb. 25 The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle; so they named him Esau. 26 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.
27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. 28 Isaac loved Esau, because he was fond of game; but Rebekah loved Jacob.
29 Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 30 Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!” (Therefore he was called Edom.) 31 Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank, and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.
Genesis 25:19-34 combines a simple accounting of the genealogy of Isaac, the story of the birth of Jacob and Esau and the story of Esau selling his birthright to Jacob. Some character traits of the two brothers, eponymous ancestors of rival nations (v. 23), have undoubtedly been emphasized to the point of exaggeration by the narrator. Therefore, it would be unwise to press the narrative hard for historical, psychological or cultural details about either individuals or nations.[1] Yet, the story raises some interesting questions I want to pursue.
Genesis 25:19-20, 26b is a simple accounting of the genealogy of Isaac. Most scholars think the source is P. 19 These are the descendants of, the toledot formula being an ordering device that both advances the large epic of Genesis while also bringing some coherence to the collection of pre-canonical tales, lists and poems that were shaped into the biblical book. It occurs 10 times in Genesis (2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10, 27; 25:12; here; 36:1; 37:2). It introduces a person (or metaphorically, in 2:4, the elements of creation) of sufficient importance to warrant a briefer or longer narrative pause or digression en route to the real point of the world's early history, which is the emergence and history of the chosen people, whose story makes up most of the OT as we have it. These are the generations of Isaac, Abraham’s son, only one of his sons, of course. Abraham had several sons by at least several different women (note the plural "concubines" in 25:6). However, the narrator of Israel's early history focuses on the son whose descendants will include Jacob/Israel. Abraham was the father of Isaac, 20 and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-aram, sister of Laban the Aramean. The Arameans (from the general geographical area of modern Syria) were regarded as one of Israel's ancestors, as the apologia in Deuteronomy 26:5 makes clear: "A wandering Aramean was my ancestor. ..." Rebekah's father, Bethuel, is identified as an Aramean, making Isaac and Rebekah's marriage appropriately within a social or cultural group and in accord with certain customs or laws…. 26bIsaac was sixty years old when she bore them. By ancient standards (according to the archaeological, as opposed to the written, record), the 40-year-old Isaac was not only old to be marrying, but he was old, period. His advanced age at marriage here, however, is in the context of the exaggerated ages of the ancestors in general; Isaac himself will live to be 180 years old (according to Genesis 37:28). Similarly, an unusually long stretch of time - 20 years (v. 26) - intervened between Isaac's marriage to Rebekah and the birth of their first children, a period of childlessness ascribed to Rebekah's barrenness (v. 21). The barrenness of the matriarchs (Sarah, Rebekah and Rachel) is a leitmotif running through the ancestral narratives as one of several obstacles in the way toward the establishment of the chosen people in the Promised Land.
Genesis 25:21-26a, 27-28, 29-34 is the story of Esau and Jacob. The source is the J document.
Genesis 25:21-26a, 27-28, 29-34 is the story of Esau and Jacob. We will again see that the arena of divine activity is that of family conflict and reconciliation. The text undoubtedly emphasizes some character traits of the two brothers, eponymous ancestors of rival nations (v. 23) to the point of exaggeration by the narrator. Therefore, it would be unwise to press the narrative hard for historical, psychological, or cultural details about either individuals or nations.[1] Yet, the story raises some interesting questions I want to pursue. One is the problem that answered prayer can present. We need to be careful of that for which we pray! The answer may not be peace and harmony. The story pointedly raises the question of our birthright. Many people have a wonderful family heritage. Sadly, they squander it. One could also suggest that Americans have received a heritage of liberty and are in danger of squandering it. The theme of the childless wife is prominent in the stories of the Patriarchs. Only here does the husband pray for the wife to have a child. In other cases, the wife prays. In this case, the point of the story is the close kinship that Israel and Edom share. Their shared history is one of struggle over proper borders and who is supreme. The Lord answered the prayer of Isaac, but the answer involved conflict between him and his wife; the answer will involve tension between the twins. The difficulty of the birth prophesied the difficult relationship these two nations would have. Rebekah inquired of the Lord at a local shrine and received her answer. Again, the answer to her prayer is that conflict will be the theme of the relationship between the twins she carried in her womb. The blessing of children and answered prayer will become a burden in life. The younger, Jacob, would be supreme over Esau, the elder. God subverts long-held cultural traditions and laws establishing the priority of the eldest. The tension between the settled farmer, which would be the destiny of Israel, and the semi-nomadic hunter, was typical of the stories of the ancient world. A family conflict between Jacob and Rebekah will center on their evaluation of Jacob and Esau. We then read a story of the example that illustrates the difference between the twins. Jacob valued his family connections, his birthright, while Esau did not. True, Jacob was a trickster. Yet, the story raises the question of what is of value to us. Most of us own something that we would find difficult to sell. Yet, hopefully, some things are beyond sale, like our integrity. The pressures and stresses of the moment can catch us off guard. We may act hastily and rashly, as Esau did. We may say or do things in such moments that we will regret later. There are many examples of how this story repeats throughout history and in our own communities. I think of the respected leader who sells away his or her career and family for the momentary pleasure of an illicit affair. I think of the businessperson who compromises his or her integrity by pocketing huge profits at the expense of fair wages and treatment of the company's employees. I think of the teenager who wrecks his or her future by dabbling in drugs just because "everyone else is doing it." I think of the driver who takes the wheel after an evening of drinking and takes a life in a crash. I think of people born into a nation with a Declaration of Independence who squander their freedom on trifles.
25:21 Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren, for 20 years. This motif is prominent throughout the narratives concerning the patriarchs; and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. Mary Calloway, in her study of the Midrashic use of the barren matriarchs motif from Genesis, notes the differences between the depiction of childlessness in the Genesis accounts and the records of childless persons in the literature of Israel's immediate ancient Near Eastern neighbors. In every case in Genesis except this one, the childless woman takes action to obtain sons, while in Ugaritic and Akkadian literature, the childless man does so. As she puts it, "The biblical stories focus on barren women rather than on childless men" (16).[2] 22 The children struggled together within her, indicating the difficulty of this pregnancy, and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord, through an oracle at a temple or local shrine. 23 And the Lord said to her, “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.” This prophecy found fulfillment in the dominance of Edom by Israel at the height of the political power under the reigns of David and Solomon. It also shows that Israel during the monarchy recognized its kinship with several of its neighbors. Here, we see kinship with Edom, while other stories will show kinship with Moab and Ishmaelites. 24 When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb. 25 The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle; so they named him Esau. Both Edom and red are derived from a Semitic root meaning "red," and the Hebrew word for hair (se'ar) is related to Seir, a region intricately linked to Edom in the Hebrew Bible (see Genesis 36:8-9, Judges 5:4). Edom received its name because of the red sandstone that characterizes the area. The text presents the name Esau as the obvious proper name for a child of such ruddy and hirsute condition at birth. Although not entirely certain, the name Esau appears to be derived from an uncommon Hebrew root '-s-h, which means "to press, squeeze."[3] 26a Afterward his brother came out, with his hand gripping Esau’s heel; so he was named Jacob. Thus, a similar etymology accompanies the birth of the latter son, Jacob ("heel grabber" or "supplanter"). 27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, suggesting uncouth and dangerous, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. Ordinarily “quiet” means "perfect, complete, whole" in the sense of one possessing moral integrity, as in Job 1:3; 2:3. The contrast is between the aggressive hunter and the more settled pastoralist semi-nomad. Jacob is moving in the direction of the settled agricultural life of the promised goal of settlement in Israel. Jacob is moving in the right direction, culturally speaking, whereas Esau remains something of a primitive. Historically, the wild hunter and civilized farmer shepherd were often in conflict. 28 Isaac loved Esau, because he was fond of game; but Rebekah loved Jacob. Conflict is apparent within this family, as Jacob is something of a mama’s boy. Once again, the mother is attuned to the purpose of God while the husband is oblivious to it. The younger Cain had the approval of God as overgainst his older brother Abel. This will be a major theme in the story of Joseph. 29 Once, here is one incident between Jacob and Esau, as the text spends no time on the childhood of the two sons, as is customary in biblical narrative, when Jacob was cooking a stew, a task not ordinarily done by men in this patriarchal culture, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 30 Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!” (Therefore he was called Edom.) This story is the origin of the nation that would come from him, that is, Edom. The first recorded use of the name "Edom" comes from an Egyptian text of the 13th century B.C. 31 Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank, and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright. The moral of this story is that it illustrates how Esau despised his birthright. Esau comes across as an uncouth glutton, showing lack of manners and judgment. Jacob comes across as an opportunist, taking advantage of his brother. The biblical perspective on Edom is bitter, reflecting the unremitting border conflict between Judah and Edom extending across centuries. The folktale preserves a popular explanation for Israel's period of political dominance over Edom, a period extending from the time of David's subjugation of the region in the 11th century B.C. (II Samuel 8:13-14) until Edom's successful revolt against the Judahite king Jehoram (who reigned from 849-842 B.C.; see II Kings 8:20-22).
The theme of the childless wife is prominent in the stories of the Patriarchs. Only here does the husband pray for the wife to have a child. In other cases, the wife prays. In this case, the point of the story is the close kinship that Israel and Edom share. Their shared history is one of struggle over proper borders and who is supreme. The Lord answered the prayer of Isaac, but the answer will bring conflict between him and his wife; the answer will involve tension between the twins. The difficulty of the birth prophesied the difficult relationship these two nations would have. Rebekah inquired of the Lord at a local shrine and received her answer. Again, the answer to her prayer is that conflict will be the theme of the relationship between the twins she carried in her womb. The younger, Jacob, would be supreme over Esau, the elder. The tension between the settled farmer, which would be the destiny of Israel, and the semi-nomadic hunter, was typical of the stories of the ancient world. A family conflict between Jacob and Rebekah will center on their evaluation of Jacob and Esau.
We then read a story of the example that illustrates the difference between the twins. Jacob valued his family connections, his birthright, while Esau did not. True, Jacob was a trickster. Yet, the story raises the question of what is of value to us. Most of us own something that we would find difficult to sell. Yet, one can hope that some things are beyond sale, like our integrity. The pressures and stresses of the moment can catch us off guard. We may act hastily and rashly, as did Esau. We may say or do things in such moments that we will regret later.
I was in a mode of getting rid of some items from my Seminary years, and one item I still had was a popcorn popper. Are there some things you would never sell or get rid of under any circumstances? If your situation became so dire that you were between rock bottom and a very hard decision, what would you absolutely hold on to, regardless of the cost?
Of course, I am not just talking about things that have value only to you or your family, things that stimulate good memories. In a fallen world, where sin dehumanizes people into commodities, a lot more than a memento may be at stake. In some places in the world, adults sell their children and adults sell their bodies in the form of prostitution. Among the saddest things of which I have read is the sex trade, in which people sell others, especially children they have stolen from others, for sex. When human life is judged only by its dollar value, then virtually nothing is off the table.
There are many examples of how this story repeats throughout history and in our own communities. I think of the respected leader who sells away his or her career and family for the momentary pleasure of an illicit affair. I think of the businessperson who compromises his or her integrity by pocketing huge profits at the expense of fair wages and treatment of the company's employees. I think of the teenager who wrecks his or her future by dabbling in drugs just because "everyone else is doing it." I think of the driver who takes the wheel after an evening of drinking and takes a life in a crash. I think of people born into a nation with a Declaration of Independence who squander their freedom on trifles.
Some things should just never be for sale. Integrity, for example, or freedom or love should never have a price tag, and neither should one's body. One might add justice. One might add the gospel. You can probably think of quite a few additional things that should never be on the market. In the ancient world, one item incorporated not only material things but also a person's identity and a whole lot more - the birthright. Sell that, and you would have sold out completely.
nice take on things not for sale. Lot's of room to enlarge on that. What happens when what should not be for sale is sold.
ReplyDeleteMaybe we become something different from the type of person God intended?
Deletefor sure and that can be expanded to include societies.
Delete