Of Morsels and Birthrights

Lest there be any fornicator, or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright.  For ye know how that afterward, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was rejected: for he found no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.
– Hebrews 12: 16-17

Sounds to me like Esau got a raw deal.

He was a young man of the earth, skilled in hunting and physical prowess, while his younger brother Jacob (hugely favored by his mother) was less physical; more cunning. Isaac favored his more athletic son which, like Mom’s bias towards Jacob, had to have been damaging to all involved.

You know how it played out. Esau came in one day famished from hunting; Jacob had prepared an aromatic stew. Esau asked for some and Jacob seized the opportunity by setting the terms – A morsel for your birthright – and, to his everlasting regret, Esau sold out.

The Profanity of the Sellout

Centuries later, God inspired the author of Hebrews to refer to Esau as profane. (Hebrews 12:15) That’s a pretty strong word for a hungry young man who was manipulated while in a weakened state and, like I said, it looks like raw deal. Seems to me that any level of family affection would have moved Jacob to offer his brother sustenance, no strings attached. So while Esau’s sellout was a short-sided failure, Jacob’s exploitation really stinks in my book.

But who knows what else was going on in that family? The elder, rugged Esau may have spent years bullying the less physical Jacob, holding Dad’s favoritism over his head and abusing his position in the home. Maybe Rebekah’s favoritism was a compensation for Isaac preferring one son over the other.

We don’t know; we don’t need to, since God’s purposes through Jacob/Israel were established long before this episode. What we do know, and what resonates over the years, is the fact that divine birthrights can be sold for temporal, even understandable urges. And the seller who barters birthright for morsel always, always loses.

We normally think of profane as being something openly sacrilegious, or obscene, like “profane language.” But in the strictest sense, Hebrews is telling us that any elevation of natural urge over moral truth makes one profane, no matter how great the urge nor how hard the truth.

Today, I can fully appreciate both the justice in God requiring this of us, and the struggles we experience when striving to meet that requirement. Because what I really am and what I really crave can be, and often are, huge contradictions, calling me to deny gratification of the one in the interest of preserving the other.

Now for most of us, the requirement to delay gratification isn’t so excruciating. As the author of Hebrews said, “You have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin.” (Hebrews 12:4) And he’s right isn’t he? Good grief, I have to wonder what members of the early church, who lived under threat of death and suffered untold persecutions for the faith, would think of modern Christians who feel like modern martyrs just because they have to give up childish acts
of lust!

The Holiness of “No”

Yet the fact remains that saying “no” to deeply felt desire can, and often does, feel like a form of death. We work hard in the field, a la Esau, ending the day weary and starving for some comfort, distraction, pleasure. We smell the stew, and make a choice to either deny our true selves for a morsel, or deny our urges for
a birthright.

In those moments, I don’t feel the choice is between heaven and hell, as I surely don’t believe the Christian who makes the wrong choice falls immediately from grace. He does, though, deny his birthright as a More Than Conqueror, Seated in the Heavenlies, New Creature Son of God, thereby denying himself power and peace that would, if only he chose them, immeasurably outweigh the quick fix he’ll get from the morsel.

We’re faced with a similar choice today, and when that happens, I think we’ll find it helpful to give serious thought in our birthright, our eternal inheritance, and our true nature.

Were you a Downton Abbey fan?  If so, maybe you’ll remember an early episode when Lady Cora’s maid cooked up a dastardly act of revenge against her, only to change her mind later by saying to herself aloud, “This isn’t who you really are.”

This isn’t who you really are. Great point. We could all do worse than to remind ourselves of that when the smell of a morsel draws us to put our birthright on hold.