Jacob I Loved, But Esau I Hated

"Was not Esau Jacob's brother?" the LORD says. "Yet I have loved Jacob, but Esau I have hated, and I have turned his mountains into a wasteland and left his inheritance to the desert jackals." (Malachi 1:2-3)

One of the most puzzling statements in the Bible is this one where God said that he loved Jacob, but hated his brother Esau. Would God really do such a thing—love one man and hate another? My attempts to understand this very disconcerting comment threw up answers to not one, but several questions I had often asked myself. As they pertain to issues that are vital to our understanding of God and other subjects like predestination, justice, mercy and fairness, I thought it a good idea to address some of them here, beginning with the question of why God chooses to bless some people while damning others, as he seemed to do with Jacob and Esau.

Jacob and Esau (as you undoubtedly know) were Isaac's sons, grandchildren of the great patriarch Abraham. Despite being twins, they were totally unlike each other, both in appearance and in temperament. Esau, the older of the two, loved the outdoors and became a skilled hunter, endearing himself to his father who liked the wild game the boy brought home to cook. Introverted Jacob preferred to stay indoors and help his mother Rebekah in the house, making himself beloved of her. If opposites attract, it didn't hold good in this instance as there was hardly any love lost between the twins. The enmity apparently began in the womb: Rebekah complained that they constantly kicked and fought inside her!

Esau cut a pretty sorry figure as a little story about him showed. He went out hunting on one occasion. He must have been gone for a few days and not had much luck in snaring anything, because when he returned he was empty handed and starving. As chance would have it, Jacob had just cooked a pot of stew. Eagerly Esau asked for a serving, but Jacob, a schemer if there ever was one, told him that he could have it only in exchange for his birthright. In a remarkable act of idiocy, Esau agreed to the trade, instantly damning himself in the eyes of God.

To understand why this act provoked God's intense displeasure, you have to understand how important the birthright was. The birthright—the inheritance of the firstborn—consisted of leadership in the family, a double portion of inheritance, and the title to the covenant blessing promised to Abraham. It was given by God himself. By "despising his birthright" as the Book of Genesis states he did, Esau effectively thumbed his nose at God. (Many Christians today are guilty of the same thing, selling their birthright thoughtlessly by trading eternal blessings for momentary pleasures.)

But if Esau was a miserable specimen of the human race, Jacob was not far better. If anything, all stories of him indicate he was a worse character than Esau. What sort of a person, after all, would make a trade of this sort with his own brother? His actions in later life were not very redeeming either. When his father was dying, he conspired with Rebekah to steal the blessings that were reserved for Esau. After he married Rachel, he engineered the payment of outstanding wages by her father Laban in an extraordinarily deceitful way. And then, coming across Esau when journeying back to his homeland and scared that his brother would kill him, he sent his wife ahead to negotiate a peace rather than go himself. Ever the wheeler-dealer, on one occasion he even negotiated with God!

Why then, would God love this man? The only answer is the correct one: God's sovereign grace. For reasons of His own, that had nothing to do with anything Jacob was or did or would do, God chose Jacob as an object of His love and simply showered him with an abundance of it. From the time he left his father's house, desperate to escape the wrath of an enraged brother cheated of an inheritance, up until the time he died, soon after conferring blessings upon Pharoah himself, God's mighty hand rested upon Jacob in love and protection.

Why didn't God favor Esau with his love too, then? Surely God could have overlooked Esau's little foolishness, like he seemed to overlook so many of Jacob's failings. Why, instead, did God hate him so? (In Semitic usage "hate" means to "love less" but regardless of whether you accept this translation, or take "hate" to mean what we usually take "hate" to mean, it is obvious God did not care much for Esau. He did permit Esau to become the father of Edom, but there is no trace of the house of Esau or of Esau himself in history.) God gave Moses the answer to that question a long time ago:

"I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion." (Exodus 33:19)

Many would say this smacks of injustice. If God was just, he would grant Esau the same clemency that he did Jacob, the same grace, the same love. Anything else would be unjust, surely. But would it? To answer this question we need to understand what justice is and what mercy is and I would like to take a brief diversion into my own life to illustrate both.

For twenty five years I wandered about in the atheistic wilderness, living a hedonistic, amoral existence [see The Return of the Prodigal]. In July 2002, God drew me to conversion, and I was saved. Did I deserve to be saved? No! I deserved to die, because sin is punishable by death! That I didn't was the mercy of God in action, exercised totally because he deigned to.

Let us go back again to July 2002, and consider briefly what might have happened if God had chosen not to draw me to conversion. I would have simply died out there in the desert, and spent the rest of eternity grinding and gnashing my teeth until they wore down to the roots. Could I have blamed God for this? Of course not, because this would have been justice! But God chose, instead, to have mercy on me. Is mercy justice? Not quite. But then it is not injustice either; it is simply nonjustice.

It is important that we understand this. It is also important that we understand that God's mercy is entirely at his own discretion. Most of us take it for granted, believing that His mercy is automatically forthcoming. When it isn't, we cry, "Foul!" We would do well to remember that God is never obligated to be merciful. It is the same with grace. God never owes grace. Both grace and mercy are gifts and we shouldn't expect either. The only thing we should expect is justice. For all of us who persist in sin, that translates as death.

Taming the Tongue: Slander

We all stumble in many ways. If anyone is never at fault in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to keep his whole body in check. When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. (James 3:2-6)

Ever seen a forest fire? Every year, right across the globe, fires rage across forests, burning everything for miles and miles as they last for days, sometimes weeks. By the time they are spent whole acres are land are nothing by cinders. In many instances, these huge fires are caused by a smouldering matchstick or a cigarette butt that's been carelessly tossed away.

The tongue is like that match stick or cigarette butt. Tossed carelessly, it causes havoc that is often as bad as what we see after a forest fire, leaving reputations, honor and, very often, lives in ruins. Unfortunately, many of us don't realize that even as it destroys others, loose talk endangers our very salvation, as Jesus Himself warns. One day, speaking to the Pharisees (whose hypocrisy constantly kept his blood on the boil), he rasped:

You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him. But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned." (Matthew 12:34-37)

The advice to them holds good to us: We will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word we have spoken. For by our words we will be aquitted, and by our words we will be condemned.

Think about the last conversation you had with someone. What did you say? Did you, either out of anger and malice, or for sheer entertainment, slander somebody? Did you, for a moment, think about the consequences your words might have on that person? Did you think about the consequences they might have on yourself? Chances are you didn't, otherwise you probably would have been very judicious about the things you said. And because you didn't think about any of this, it might be good to do so now and ponder about the ramifications of your words. They could be deadly. Does this sound a little over dramatic? Let me tell you a little story. It's a true story that took place recently.

Caroline D'Souza is a member of the HSI Community in Borivili. She went for a seminar by Catholic apologist Steve Ray when he was in Bombay last month. While there she met a young man who, in conversation, asked her if she belonged to any prayer group. She said that she didn't belong to any prayer group as such, but was part of Holy Spirit Interactive. "Aneel Aranha's ministry?" he asked. She nodded, pleased that he seemed to know me, but in a few moments her pleasure turned to shock as he told her that I was a rebel preacher who worked in total disobedience to the Church, and other assorted nonsense. Caroline is an intelligent girl but such is the power of slander, especially persuasive slander, that it can really rattle people.

Fortunately, she shared this with me, asking if there was any substance to these allegations. Bemused, I asked her where the HSI meetings were held. She said they were held in a Church. I asked her if she thought it was possible for me to have my meetings in a Church without the permission of a parish priest and she agreed that it wasn't. I then asked her if it was possible for the parish priest to invite me to start a full fledged community in his parish without the blessings of the Bishop and, again, she agreed that it wasn't. I didn't need to say anymore. As I said earlier, Caroline is an intelligent girl.

Frankly, I don't care what this bloke, who doesn't know me from Adam, says about me. I never cared what people said about me when I was a bad guy; I care even less now that I'm a good guy. But I shudder when I think of the damage these people—mostly Christians—are doing to the Church that we are trying to grow. I could get to Caroline and explain things to her, but what about the thousands of people I will never have a chance to meet and explain. They will simply believe the lies being fed to them and feed them to others in turn, not even attempting to find out if this is the truth! Think of the destruction caused by the slander!

There was once a man who hated a rival so much, he decided to destroy him, and slander was the easiest, most effective way. He accused his nemesis of loose sexual morals, and as the slanderer doesn't have to prove anything—the burden of proof falls on the accused—he succeeded in destroying the poor fellow's reputation, along with his marriage and much else, completely.

Some time later this man was overcome by remorse (I figure he must have really discovered Christ) and made his way to the confessional. There he poured out his sins, promising that he would never repeat his mistake. The priest listened to him patiently, absolved him, but then instead of giving him a few Our Father's or Hail Mary's to say as his penance, told the penitent to go to the market and get him a chicken. "On the way back, I want you to pluck the chicken," the priest told the man as he left the confessional.

Notwithstanding this rather strange penance, the man went to the market as instructed where be picked up the plumpest bird he could lay his hands on. As he returned to the church, he plucked the features off the bird and tossed them away one by one. By the time he got to the priest, the chicken was plucked clean. "Here's your chicken," he told the man of the cloth.

"I want you to go back to the market," the priest told him, "and stick the features back on the bird."

"But that is impossible," the man cried. "They would all be swept away by the wind!"

"Yes," the priest said. "Just like your words. Nothing you do will ever bring them back."

This is a story we would all do well not to forget, understanding that once we have spoken ill about somebody there is nothing we can do to get our words back. I'm not going to beat you on the head with more about this, though I would like to leave you with something that Paul warned the Corinthians about:

... nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. (1 Corinthians 6:10)

And as a final note, do read the previous post on the Triple Filter Test. It offers some invaluable advice on how to deal with slanderers—and how to make sure that we don't become slanderers ourselves.

The Triple Filter Test

In my talk on "Taming the Tongue" I narrated an anecdote about Socrates that you may find interesting—and useful, especially when it comes to dealing with gossipmongers.

Socrates, as you probably well know, was a Greek from yonks ago who was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"

"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."

"Triple filter?"

"That's right," Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"

"No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it and..."

"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"

"No, on the contrary..."

"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you're not certain it's true?"

The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.

Socrates continued. "You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really..."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"

The man was defeated and ashamed.