A TALE OF TWO BROTHERS, ONE BIRTHRIGHT AND A BOWL OF STEW

The entire household of Abraham could not contain their joy when Rebekah’s pregnancy became public. God is indeed a good God who makes everything beautiful in its time. Prior to that moment, Isaac and Rebekah had waited for 20 years for the fruit of the womb. When Isaac could no longer bear to look at his wife’s hollow cheeks and despairing face, he made a desperate cry to God. He was confident in God’s ability to answer prayers because he had seen Him move in miraculous ways. As a child, he saw God provide a ram as his replacement on the altar of sacrifice. He also knew that his father Abraham was 100 years old when he (Isaac) was born. So, that night when he cried in agony to God about Rebekah’s childlessness, he knew God had heard him. And, indeed, God heard and answered his prayer as Rebekah immediately had a bun in the oven. However, from her first to her last trimester, Rebekah had troubles standing upright or sitting still because of the incessant pushes and kicks she felt in her belly. She was so afraid for her life, so afraid that she might die. She took the matter to the Lord in prayer. “Why is this happening to me, Lord”, she asked. There and then, the Lord revealed to her that she was having a set of twins and that the pushes and kicks in her stomach were a sign that the twins would constantly be at loggerheads. The Lord told her many things, but the one that baffled her the most was that the older of the twins would serve the younger.

The twins could not have staged a more dramatic arrival to the world. The first boy came out looking so red. He was so hairy that, at first, the midwife thought he was covered in a fur coat. Because of this excessive hairiness, they immediately named him Esau (although he would later be known as Edom, the Hebrew word for “red”). The joy and surprise of Esau’s arrival had not even percolated when the second boy came out grabbing Esau’s heel with his hands. Because of his massive supplanting tendencies, they named the second boy Jacob.  As the boys grew up, Isaac did not hide the fact that Esau was his favourite. The young boy (Esau) was very confident, outspoken and outdoorsy. His archery skills made him stand out; in fact, he turned out to be the best hunter in town. Isaac would sometimes go hunting with him and would marvel at the young boy’s game. Esau didn’t have to strive for Isaac’s attention, but Jacob had to. Hence, the twins grew up with an intense sibling rivalry. Unlike Esau, looks were not Jacob’s selling point. He detested the fact that his brother stole the show everywhere they went– not that he went out that much anyway. He was introverted; he was a beta male.  While his brother, Esau, would more likely be described as “comely”, Jacob was the kind of guy who would be described as ‘homely’. His only consolation was his mother’s love. He knew his mother loved him very dearly, more than she did Esau. Perhaps he grew on his mother because he was always at home with her whenever Isaac and Esau went to the field or because mothers, generally, tend to gravitate towards the quiet and sensitive child. Perhaps Jacob got his exceptional culinary skills from his mother. It was not surprising then that on the day when his destiny would change forever, he was in the kitchen cooking red lentil stew. On that same day, when Esau returned from the field following a hunting spree, the tantalizing aroma of Jacob’s stew ambushed his olfactory lobes. At first, he had thought he was only imagining the aroma because of his intense hunger and exhaustion. “No food can smell that good”, he told himself as he dropped his hunting equipment at the front door and entered the house, still under the spell of a smell. The smell became stronger and irresistible as he entered the house and, like a robot, allowed himself to be led into the kitchen where the smell emanated from.

“The chef, what are you cooking this time?”, he asked Jacob in that patronizing tone he’d always used to address him.

“I’m cooking stew, red lentil stew”, Jacob responded in his usual quiet and unassuming manner. He saw right through his brother. He read through his impulses and saw his salivation.  He knew he wanted the stew so badly. He was ready to take advantage of the situation, to pounce on Esau’s moment of laxity. All these years, he had been treated as a second-class citizen by their father simply because he had arrived on earth a minute later than Esau. In this moment, Jacob was willing to take matters into his own hands, ready to rewrite his own destiny. He was ready to take that one thing that made Esau special: his birthright. He took the lid off the cooking pot and allowed Esau to stare longingly at the glistening redness of the stew. Esau’s eyes lightened up at the sight of the stew, his mouth agape with ravenous craving. Jacob watched his brother’s flushed face with gusto. He felt incredibly empowered in Esau’s moment of weakness. As Jacob abruptly closed the boiling pot of stew, Esau regained his composure and said softly:

“You must let me have some of that red stew. I am famished”.

“Of course. Why not”, Jacob replied as he watched his brother motion toward the pot of stew.

“But you must first sell me your birthright”, he quickly added in a tone that hid his desperation.

A brief cloud of silence fell upon them. They both exchanged a brief glance before Esau burst out in laughter while Jacob maintained an inscrutable face. Esau did not think much of what his brother was asking for. He knew Jacob was an introspective type, but there was no way he could get the birthright as a second child. He, Esau, was by nature and by default the legitimate heir of the Abrahamic dynasty.

“I am about to die, so what good is a birthright to me?”, Esau said, tongue-in-cheek, as he moved closer to the bowl of stew.

“Swear to me first”, Jacob said, shocked by the urgency that accompanied those words that dropped from his mouth. This was the moment when Esau realized that his brother was dead serious. It now made sense to him why his brother had low-key resented him all these years. But there was no going back. His whole body called for the red stew, nothing could appease his raging appetite. In this fleeting moment, the only thing that occupied Esau’s mind was how Jacob’s red stew would land on his taste buds. The two brothers were both greedy. Jacob wanted Esau’s destiny. Esau wanted Jacob’s bowl of stew. Little did they know that that transaction would change the course of history forever. Esau swore to Jacob, he sold his birthright to him. In return, Jacob served Esau a bowl of red stew, watched him eat, drink and leave the scene.

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We know the rest of the story of Jacob and Esau. We know how they both staged one of the messiest family feud in history. We know how Jacob would later trick their senescent father into blessing him instead of Esau. We know how he (Jacob) fled to Haran when he heard that Esau was plotting to kill him in retaliation. For a long time, I thought Esau was the victim of circumstance. I thought Jacob was a cheat and a manipulator (which he actually was until he had an encounter with God). I felt Esau was a typical Aristotelian tragic hero. Wasn’t it prophesied, before his birth, that he would be supplanted by his brother? Wasn’t he a predestinated loser? Now, I have come to realize that while God allows events in our lives to accomplish his overall purposes, we are still responsible for our actions. Esau chose to sell his birthright. He did not value his inheritance, he let his bright glory slide away in a fleeting moment of gratification. The author of the book of Hebrews (12:14-16) referred to Esau as an “irreverent” and a “profane” person. Also, we get to see more of Esau’s disposition to life in Genesis 27 where, to his parents’ utter dismay and disappointment, he married heathen women. Did Esau live to regret his actions? Certainly. The author of Hebrews told us that he “sought carefully with tears” the inheritance he gave in exchange for a momentary pleasure. Even today, the descendants of Esau (Edom) are fighting to get back their heritage which now belongs to the children of Jacob (Israel). It is worthy of note that Esau started out as their father’s favorite, the same way many of us are so precious in the Father’s eyes. But because of impulsiveness, self-absorption, nonchalance and lack of insight, Esau ended up as the bad egg. As children of God, we have obtained a spiritual blessing and an eternal inheritance; we are joint heirs with Christ (Ephesians 3:6). Because we belong to Christ, we are Abraham’s descendants and heirs according to promise (Galatians 3:29). But it is quite unfortunate that many will lose this eternal inheritance because they will choose not to subdue earthly gratifications. Esau is not the only one who sold his birthright, many of us are doing the same today. We allow physical satisfaction and comfort to take precedence over spiritual priorities. God has an inheritance for you, He has deposited greatness inside of you. Do not think lightly of His promises and commands. If you trade your spiritual blessings by yielding to fleshly temptations, trust me, you will one day cry for it and, by then, it might be too late. Never sell your eternal inheritance and glorious destiny for a bowl of stew.