Notes from a Sojourn
July 12, 2020
A Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
(Genesis 25:19-34; Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23)
Sibling rivalry is not a new phenomenon. The author of today's Genesis story appears to be entirely familiar with the nuances of the troubled existence of two siblings, each struggling in his own way, to come out on top.
It starts at the very beginning: Esau and Jacob are characterized at birth: Esau is red and hairy, Jacob is born grabbing Esau's heel. As they grow, they take to different lifestyles: Esau is a skilled hunter, Jacob spends his days close to home.
The contrast is not unlike Cain and Abel, two earlier brothers who could not seem to find a way to be different together. Like the story of Cain and Abel, Esau and Jacob's story eventually ends up with a show-down conflict.
Esau comes home hungry and Jacob has exactly what his brother needs. Though they were twins, Esau was born first, and was entitled to the traditional rights and privileges for a firstborn son. Perceiving opportunity in his brother's vulnerability, Jacob trades food for his brother's birthright. An unkind and selfish trade.
The story does not end with this trade; there will be much more drama between these brothers. But, this seems like as good a place as any to stop for today. Interestingly, the Bible does not pronounce any judgement on either Jacob or Esau for their behaviour. That judgement is pronounced by you and me, the audience.
The rivalry and conflict among the members of this biblical family are dramatic, scandalous, even shameful at times. But the story simply allows the characters and events to speak for themselves. There is no condemnation in the telling of the story, that occurs in the hearing of it.
Centuries later, Matthew offers us one of Jesus' parables: the parable of the sower. It is uncommon to have parables explained for us in the Bible, so it is worth noting that the seed is the word, and the various conditions of terrain on which the seed falls are the hearers of the word.
Some ground is fertile, some is not. Some ground is weedy, some provides access to birds. But the ground is not judged for being what it is. The seed I'd offered without discrimination.
Jacob, Esau, you, me... we are troubled and complicated. We struggle and fight. We act with both care and harm in our hearts. As ground for the germination and growth of seeds, we can be both fertile and barren. Our yield is, at times, productive and empty.
The sower doesn't seem to care though! What kind of sower scatters seed so haphazardly? What kind of religious genealogy features the holy forebears of the faith so irresponsibly?
Whether it is irresponsibility or abundance, I never quite know for sure. But the common actor in the stories of scripture is God. God does not begin with sin and offense. God does not shame the weak and conflicted. God casts love, following a very long arc. God's family includes people like Jacob, Esau, Rebecca, Isaac. God's people are trodden paths, rocky terrain, weedy ground, and good soil alike. God's family, god's harvest include such imperfect members as you and me.
As we hear the strange and troubling events of the stories of scripture, as we experience strange and troubling events in our world this week, it is my prayer that we will be assured of the presence of God's love within the stories of our times. May we know the abundance of God's love, who meets us where we are, and draws us into a new reality. Amen.
Patrick+
