Genesis 25:19–34
These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah… Isaac prayed to the LORD for his wife, because she was barren; and the LORD granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. 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. 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.”
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.
When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. Isaac loved Esau, because he was fond of game; but Rebekah loved Jacob.
Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 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.
***
This week, I had something stolen that I thought belonged to me. In the celebration of Fourth of July, my favorite holiday, and my friend Liam’s birthday, we ended the evening, with my favorite thing in the entire world, ocean swimming, and paramountly, ocean swimming at night. Being the savvy traveler that I thought I was, I wrapped my phone and wallet in my swimsuit cover up, and placed them a short distance from a trashcan. In the night shadowed sand, I thought they were hidden from view, but also somewhere that I could find. That said, being the savvy traveler that I am, I have always known, that to swim off the beach anywhere in the world, requires either false trust or simply letting go, because you cannot bring with you into the water anything that is not of the moment. So I did just that, and left all but literally that which I was wearing on the sand. I swam without care and relished the black surf against the black sky and the perfect end to a perfect day, my favorite holiday. It was glorious, and still after all that would happen, it was worth the story for my favorite holiday.
After midnight we came in from the water and picking up my now crumpled cover up, I knew my wallet with my phone in it was gone. My license, my health insurance information, my emergency contacts, my most recent national park passport book stamps, my contacts, my maps, my calendar, my pictures, my texts, my e-mail, my credit and my debit card, my money, my, my, my, mine, were mine no longer. I’d never had this happen before, and I sighed a lot, but I knew, I would be fine. It wasn’t all I had, and like the saying, ‘there was more where that came from.’ I had a bank account, rather than the just cash in my wallet, I had passport in Baker and not just my driver’s license. I had my contacts, e-mails, and texts, all on my laptop and iPad, and I had a good friend with kindness and resources there with me. Liam walked me to the car as I used his phone and called my bank and cancel cards. Then, in the parking garage, we used his phone and I wrote directions to drive back to my friend, Lisa’s, place. I knew if I took a wrong turn I would be lost in L.A., but I had traveled enough that I knew I would be hyper vigilant and make home fine, and to tell the truth, I was kind of excited about the challenge of navigating in the old way with hand written directions, like my dad used to give me in high-school. I asked Liam for $5, for just in case, for gas, or to call, and I wrote down he and Lisa’s number, and drove home just fine.
A couple days later, after a web of calls to cancel and report things, I dressed nicely and drove down with my $5 to the downtown police station. I pulled into a public parking lot that asked for $7 dollars, and pleaded my case. The attendant pointed his finger away and told me where I would find another that only charged $5. Driving away, I was a little hurt by his insensitivity, even though he explained the gate would not open without the right amount of cash. I turned away, and felt turned away. I found the alternative parking, and I slipped Liam’s $5 into the payment slot, and as I did I let go of any money I had. I walked, and walked, and walked, to the police station a little lost, quite exhausted by then. Upon arrival, two police officers greeted me, and told me there was nothing they could do, but that I would have to go somewhere else to report it. At that point, utterly exhausted, I burst into tears, apologizing, and feeling silly, so the decided to write a police report for me, to appease me. Shortly after I composed myself, a middle aged homeless woman walked in. She had fallen asleep in the park, and literally had the shoes stolen off her feet, along with her ID and money. They told her she wasn’t allowed in without shoes, and then told her there was no bathroom she could use, and to use the public one in the park, even though she had no shoes, and they interrogated her about why she was sleeping in the park in the middle of the day anyway, and so on and so forth, and there I was in my nice dress, feeling the privilege of the color of my skin, the wealth of the iPhone and wallet I was reporting, and the class of my articulation skills from parents who were educators and lots of schooling. Standing there in that police station we were two women with the same problem, but we might have as well of been two nations divided in one womb, one stronger than the other, the elder serving the younger. Life is like that, God tells Rebekah, and as long as there is inheritance, all God’s people shall be divided.
Like Esau, she had come in from the field and was famished, and needed immediate assistance. I was Jacob, full from cooking stew and could easily walk away, and after my police report was written, I took my carbon copy, and walked away.
Later that week during our youth group mission trip we were given 4 dollars. Depending on the color of our hair, I did not get one because I was brown, luckily there were 4 blondes and they got one dollar. And the five of us, Lynn, Courtney, Cory, Sam and I were told to go out into the streets of LA and find our dinner, to simulate if but for a couple of hours the feeling of homelessness and hunger. Lynn & I watched the youth struggle as they went to ask if there was any left over produce from a grocery store manager. They responded kindly, but firmly said no. We talked about how hard asking was, because we have been taught to provide for ourselves and had always been provided for. We walked around to dumpsters and notice that they were even locked and guarded. We noticed that the signs that said no public restrooms next to the signs that said worker needed said they would not barter washing dishes for a meal. We noticed the hopelessness as it set in and we walked around empty blocks. And the privilege of desiring to go hungry rather than ask for a meal set in. We noticed ourselves get ornery and then even more hopeless. For a couple of hours we were famished and we had been asked to sell our birth rights, the birthright of privilege in order to attempt to eat. Inheritance began with the assumption that something belongs to us and that one person is greater than the other. This is what happens in this story, one is greater than the other, each shall give away their birth right and Jacob essentially wins. They switch places like we switched places but the story is still the same, nothing changes. There were 11 minutes left in our walk. The kids were walking ahead, heads down, arms crossed, and the adult leaders were told that no group had ever come back hungry. My competitive spirit thought we are not going to be that group. We had walked by three restaurants, little hole in the wall, family owned kinds of places. And I said to the youth, go into those three. If you come back with nothing you can go home. So they went in a little Thai Restaurant, while Lynn and I stood outside. We were told as adult leaders to let the kinds figure it out, which I was honestly thankful for not having to do it myself. They went in, Lynn and I stood outside, the door had a big sing outside, so we could not see in. And we soon realized we had been waiting for quiet some time. And we looked at each other and I said I think that this might be good. When we walked up to the door and leaned around the advertisement Cory gives us this huge thumbs up. Lynn and I walk in and the women says, there are two more of you? And the kids nod yes. And she tells all to sit down in her restaurant. The kids had given her their 4 dollars in exchange for three 8 dollar meals, for she had reached into her tip jar to make up the rest. We left with a plastic bag with three enormous boxes of food and cried because we had found grace that was not an inheritance of this world but grace that was inheritance of God. God doesn’t believe in human inheritance. This story may seem messing and confusing but if you look in all these Genesis stories, though historically the first born is suppose to receive an inheritance, in no one of the old testament stories does the first born receive the inheritance. It always switches. I think God is about the switch. God is about the women who reached into the tip jar. And so we left and we walked back to the church guilty, feeling like we had cheated this woman, feeling like we had something we did not deserve. And Courtney was very upset and rightfully so because I think pedagogically, it is not fair, it isn’t really a good assignment. But this is what I know. I know that she was changed, that I was changed, that Lynn was changed, that Sam was changed, that Cory was changed. That none of us will ever forget that moment, nor will we walk by a homeless person with the same assumptions. So I lost my phone, so my wallet is gone, these things I thought were mine. Maybe someone else needed it more. Maybe I got to swim and that was all I needed. Maybe that is the story of the inheritance of God. Amen.
