1 Thessalonians 2:1-16

Worship Guide

WATCH ►

Printed Sermon

We are in day 13 of Shelter-in-Place. Again, measures that seemed extreme two weeks ago are now normal as much of the world is locked down. These are difficult days. You cannot visit loved ones in hospitals, nursing homes or retirement communities. Grandparents can’t see their grandkids. Many of you are fearful and anxious. You feel out of control. Buying toilet paper is one way of feeling in control, but now you can’t find any. Uncertainty further intensifies the fear and anxiety. This is all understandable. These are very human responses to our current situation. Where do you turn in your anxiety and fear? Children turn to their Comforter-in-Chief, to mom or dad. They get up into their lap for tender, loving care, for soothing, reassuring words: “It’s going to be alright.”

We have recently updated the signage on our church campus. I love the graphic that Mickey Cook designed for the cry room, or Baby Zone as it’s now called. The image of a mother cradling a baby in her arms conveys safety and security, nurture and care.

Children turn to their parents for loving and soothing care. But where can adults turn in their fear and anxiety? I recognize that some of you have troubled relationships with your parents, that they were and are not safe people for you. Sadly many people also view God this way: he is not a safe place. Instead of a lap into which you can climb you see a frowning face and a big stick. He’s the last place to go for comfort. But I always heard my mother begin her prayers, “Our loving heavenly Father.” Hearing this so many times shaped me. So I do indeed think of God as my loving heavenly Father, into whose lap I can climb. He’s a God I can trust with myself and my future. So I can say,

The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want;

He makes me down to lie

In pastures green; He leadeth me

The quiet waters by.

Yea, though I walk in death’s dark vale,

Yet will I fear no ill;

For Thou art with me, and Thy rod

And staff me comfort still. (Ps 23:1–2, 4, Scottish Psalter)

But for some these are hollow words: you don’t trust God.

Trust. An infant cradled in her mother’s arms is a beautiful picture of trust. But trust is a difficult word at such a time as this. Whom can we trust? Which leaders are trustworthy? Who will tell us the truth? Which media is giving us the real news, not fake news? Which web sites can be trusted?

Karl Barth, the famous pastor and theologian, advised ministers to preach with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other. We recently gave up taking the newspaper, so now it’s a news app in the other hand. Preachers seek to bridge the gap between the Scriptures and today. I felt this particularly strongly this week as I wrote the teaser for the e-bulletin on Wednesday. I had 1 Thessalonians open in front of me as I wrote, but it could have been the current news. Most of the terms I used in the blurb come straight from today’s Bible text but they ring just as true today as 2000 years ago.

I learnt two new terms this week: mental hygiene and sleep hygiene. We are learning to practice physical hygiene: by washing our hands for twenty seconds and doing so many times throughout the day. We are trying to not touch our face—this is hard! In the same way we need to practice mental hygiene. There are things we can do to prevent or counteract the fear, anxiety and stress that we feel. Exercise is good: we are still allowed out for that. Eat well. Sleep well by practicing sleep hygiene, limiting device use before we go to bed. And control our consumption of media, much of which makes us more anxious and stressed. There are many voices out there clamoring for our attention. Not all of these voices are benign. Some of the media does aim for the public good. But other media is driven by celebrities, sensationalism, shock-value and ultimately by profit. Which voices can we trust amid the clamor?

1 Thessalonians 1:1-10

Worship Guide

WATCH ►

Printed Sermon

“The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft agley.” So wrote Scotland’s national poet Robert Burns. Translated from Scots into English, “The best-laid plans of mice and men Go oft awry.” Many of you may be familiar with these words. John Steinbeck used them for the title of his novel, Of Mice and Men, in which the best-laid plans of George and Lennie go awry. Burns wrote this line in his beloved poem To a Mouse. Not just any mouse; he wrote this to a very particular mouse, a “Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie.” To understand what happened to the best-laid plans of this mouse you’ll need to read the whole poem. Then this particular line will make a lot more sense.

Our best-laid plans have been turned upside down by a tiny virus. Events have moved at a dizzying pace: now that we are confined to home, the cancelation of the King City and Liberia trips last week seems rather mild! We are adjusting to this new normal and finding silver linings: the Chinese can hear the birds in Wuhan, the Italians are singing from their balconies, the Spanish in unison are applauding their medical workers every evening. And we are finding that we can continue in community thanks to the technology that some of you develop—thank you!

But, brothers and sisters, when we were orphaned by being separated from you for a short time (in person, not in thought), out of our intense longing we made every effort to see you. (1 Thess 2:17 NIV)

I cannot see you, but you can see me. I thank those who have made every effort to make this possible, to allow us to continue to gather on Sunday mornings, now virtually.

This sentiment of intense longing is made by Paul, Silas and Timothy in the first of their two letters to the church of the Thessalonians. Today we begin a new series in these two letters. Compared to Paul’s other letters they receive relatively little attention, except for a few verses about the rapture and the man of lawlessness which generate much speculation. We will discover that there is so much more in these two gems.

Of the 27 books in the New Testament, 21 are letters or epistles. Actually, the Book of Revelation is also a letter, so make that 22. Most are written to specific churches, some to specific individuals. They are written into specific situations. But we live in a very different time, place and situation. To understand why Robert Burns wrote a poem on a particular day to a particular mouse we need to know the circumstances of his encounter with that mouse. In the same way, we need to understand the circumstances into which Paul wrote his letters: particular letters written at particular times to particular churches or leaders dealing with particular matters. So why did Paul write his first letter to the Thessalonians? The background is given in Acts 16–17, which Brian preached through a couple of years ago.

The apostle Paul knew what it was to have plans overturned. On his second missionary journey, with Silas and Timothy, he had wanted to enter new territory to preach the gospel to those who had not heard. But they were “kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia” (Acts 16:6). They turned north, and “tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to” (16:7). They turned west again, and came to Troas on the northwest coast of what is today Turkey. Here Paul had a vision of a man begging him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us” (16:9). Paul saw a new plan in this Macedonian call: “we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them” (16:10). They sailed over to Macedonia, where they went first to Philippi.

Here Paul and Silas were dragged into the marketplace and brought before the magistrates under the charge of promoting an illegal religion: they “are throwing our city into an uproar by advocating customs unlawful for us Ro

Psalm 23

Worship Guide

WATCH ►

Printed Sermon

God is our refuge and strength,

  a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,

  though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

  though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

(Ps 46:1–3 ESV)

When life spirals out of control, our most common response is fear. Even for those of us who are followers of Jesus, it is easy to lose focus and be overcome with anxiety, even despair. But the psalmist boldly proclaims that even when it seems as if the created order is coming unglued, God is exceedingly near and accessible as our refuge and strength. As we are in a serious pandemic that has spread to more than 115 nations and radically altered the way we live, the pastoral staff felt that we should expound text that would ground us in our faith and deliver us from fear. So today I have chosen Psalm 23, David’s song of trust in the Lord’s comprehensive care for us as our Shepherd. Derek Kidner writes, “Death and strength underlie the simplicity of this psalm. Its peace is not escape; its contentment is not complacency: there is a readiness to face deep darkness and imminent attack, and the climax reveals a love, which homes towards no material goal but to the Lord Himself.”1

Psalm 23 ESV

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.   

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

    He leads me beside still waters.    

He restores my soul.

    He leads me in paths of righteousness  

      for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

    I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

    your rod and your staff,

      they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me        

    in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

    my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD

    forever.

I. A Shepherd who Provides (Ps 23:1–4)

Psalm 23 depicts a typical day in the life of a shepherd with his sheep and, by extension, the journey of our lives under the care of our Lord Jesus Christ. As the day progresses the geography moves from “outside” to “inside” and God’s care becomes more direct, personal and intimate. As Bruce Waltke explains,

The psalm consists of three vignettes (vv. 1-4, 5, 6). The first two are extended metaphors, envisioning I AM’s relationship with the individual believer. As in a drama, when the curtain lifts the stage is set for pastoral scenes and the LORD appears as a shepherd. After the curtain is dropped at the end of verse 4, it is lifted again in verse 5; this time and the LORD appears as host preparing a banqueting table. Once again the curtain drops and opens in verse 6; this time, as reality replaces imagination, the psalmist is seen returning to the LORD’s eternal house.2

The psalm opens with a bold confession, “The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want,” which establishes three essentials that form the bedrock of our faith. First, our relationship with God is supremely intimate—he is “my shepherd.” As Kidner notes, “Shepherd is the most comprehensive and intimate metaphor yet encountered in the Psalms, preferring usually the more distant ‘king’ or ‘deliverer’, or the impersonal ‘rock’, ‘shield’; whereas the shepherd lives with his flock.”3 David, a shepherd in his youth, would know this better than anyone. I suspect this metaphor was particularly close to his heart, recalling his own care for his sheep and fighting off the wolves that threatened them, then imagining how his Father in heaven was even more present, faithful and protective of him.

Second, we live in absolute dependence upon God’s goodness and kindness to care for us. Without a s

Genesis 29:31 – 30:24

Worship Guide

Printed Sermon

Last week we examined Jacob’s dealings with Laban to secure Rachel as his wife. The result was not one but two wives, and not seven but fourteen years of service. Today the subject is the birth of children. The promise of children was a significant piece of God’s covenant to Abraham, especially with the barrenness of Sarah and Rebekah. Through years of anticipation God was faithful to both. Now we wonder how God will continue fulfilling his promise into the third generation. What follows is a very surprising birth narrative of Jacob’s twelve children, and in it we discover how two wounded women learn to connect with God.

These two sisters give voice to the question, Can children make you feel “good enough”? The word “enough” has become a religion in our society. In his book Seculosity, David Zahl writes,

Listen carefully and you’ll hear the word enough everywhere, especially when it comes to anxiety, loneliness, exhaustion, and division that plague our moment to such tragic proportions. You’ll hear about people scrambling to be successful enough, happy enough, thin enough, wealthy enough, influential enough, desired enough, charitable enough, woke enough, good enough.1

In the competition of being “good enough” in this marriage, we find that Rachel starts with a commanding lead, for she was loved by Jacob, while Leah was not. Bruce Waltke observes, “Her husband’s emotional rejection also entails her inferior social position within the household.”2 In Leah’s mind, not until she gives birth to four sons for Jacob, does she think she can compete with her beautiful sister. When we explore the theme of children in the context of the New Covenant, we discover the antidote.

Literary Outline 3

Text & Topic

The Initiators of the plot

A Rachel barren: Leah unloved

Yahweh saw

 B Leah conceives: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah

 

  C Rachel confronts Jacob: “Give” me or I die!

Rachel saw

    D Rachel /Bilhah as a wife: Dan & Naphtali

Leah saw

    D’ Leah/Zilpah as a wife: Gad & Asher

 

  C’ Leah confronts Rachel: Rachel “gives up”

 

 B’ Leah conceives: Issachar, Zebulun 

God heard

A’ Rachel fertile, conceives: Joseph 

God remembered

 

I. The Lord Enables Leah Alone (Gen 29:31–35)

When the Lord saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb, but Rachel was barren. And Leah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Reuben, for she said, “Because the Lord has looked upon my affliction; for now my husband will love me.” (Gen 29:31–32 ESV)

In the last scene Jacob and Laban were the prime movers of all the action and bridal negotiations. Laban’s daughters, Leah and Rachel, had no voice, and were bargaining chips for their greedy, manipulative father. In this scene however, God initiates the plot (“Now the Lord saw…”) and gives Rachel and Leah a voice, while Jacob responds to the female initiative, and Laban leaves stage. This is God’s grace to women in a extremely male dominated world.

When a grievous injustice occurs, God often consoles the most wounded party first (cf. Hagar in Gen 21:17). So when God saw that Leah was “hated,” he consoles her by opening her womb and giving her a son. Leah recognizes the gift, but her chosen name betrays a dual purpose. The name Reuben (r’uben) literally means, “See a son!” But it fits well as a shortened version giving glory to the Lord who “has seen” (ra’ah) “my affliction” (b‘onyî). So, in one sense the emotionally neglected Leah sees the boy as the gift of God, but in the speaking the name she secretly hopes to get what she really wants, her husband’s love (“perhaps now my husband will love me” [ye’habanî]). So the gift of a son becomes Leah’s means to attain a love that was painfully lacking. God in his grace visits Leah with yet another gift.

She conceived again and bore a son, and said, “Because the Lord has heard that I am hated, he has given me this son also.” And she called his name Si

Genesis 29:15-30

Worship Guide

Printed Sermon

Sermon Slides

One of our most delightful and important tasks we undertake as pastors is to prepare couples for the life-long journey of marriage. We take marriage seriously at PBCC and view the preparation process as much more important than the actual wedding ceremony. When I first meet with a couple I tell them that it is my hope that by the end of the process they will have acquired a Biblical framework for negotiating their way through the open sea of marriage. I feel that my task is not merely to teach about marriage idealistically from the formative teachings from the Garden of Eden (that place where are our dreams and longings originate), but also to shape the couple realistically. In the movie Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, a wise Greek father gives advice to his daughter who has just fallen in love with an Italian soldier:

When you fall in love it is a temporary madness;

it erupts like an earthquake, then it subsides;

and when it subsides, your have to work out whether

your roots have become so entwined

it is inconceivable that you should ever part.

Love is what is left over,

when being in love has burned away.

Anyone who is married knows it doesn’t take long to wake up from the dream-like world of the honeymoon and discover you married a sinner. Like you, this person has bad breath when they wake up in the morning, they can be moody, non-communicative, bossy, rude, and very defensive about even the smallest idiosyncrasies of their behavior. It also doesn’t take long to discover that your spouse, like you, came into this marriage with dysfunctional baggage from their family of origin, baggage that they appear blind to, but is so obvious to you.

The revelation of these changes can be so dramatic that some may even question the sanctity of the marriage when the person they are now legally married to seems so different than they imagined. This is the critical juncture in marriage when couples must cultivate true covenantal love as opposed to the “easy affection” that drove their courtship. But sadly, when a spouse doesn’t meet expectations, disappointment and resentment can take root and yield a harvest of bitterness that severs hearts and turns love cold, creating the temptation to break the covenant. This predicament isn’t unique to marriage. Anyone can feel trapped by a previous commitment that loses its shine. So the question I want to examine is, “Can we be truly blessed by God if we are seemingly trapped in an unhappy situation, whether it’s a marriage or another commitment?”

No one woke up to the fact that he had in fact married the wrong girl as quickly as Jacob. Can you imagine the initial shock to wake up after your wedding night only to find the bride’s sister in your bed? This betrayal will alter the course of his life forever. Our story has five movements, with Jacob’s marriage to Leah taking center stage.

A Negotiation of betrothal price for Rachel     29:15–19

  B Courtship and service for Rachel     29:20

    X Marriage to Leah!     29:21–24

A’ Re-negotiation of betrothal price for Rachel   29:25–27

  B’ Marriage and additional service for Rachel   29:28–30

I. Betrothal Negotiations for Rachel (29:15–19)

Then Laban said to Jacob, “Because you are my kinsman, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what shall your wages be?” (Gen 29:15 esv)

As we saw last week, Laban presents himself as a generous man who is eager to reward his nephew. He invites the energetic Jacob to name his wages, but notice only after his nephew has labored for nothing for the entire month. In contrast to his grandfather Abraham, who found his true “wages” as the gift of God (Gen 15:1), Jacob will painfully find his “wages” as hard won through sweat and deception. “Wages” will define every aspect of his life (marriage, children, and dowry) during his twenty-year stay in Haran (29:15; 30:18, 28, 32, 33; 31:

Genesis 29:1-20

Sermon Questions

Genesis 29:1-20

Worship Guide

Printed Message

Sermon Slides

Before we continue in our studies in the life of Jacob, I want to emphasize the importance of what we are doing. In his book God of All Comfort, A Trinitarian Response to the Horrors of This World, Scott Harrower explains how his heart sank when he “noticed that the USA Today’s lead article was ‘Your Definitive Guide to 2017: A Year of Hope and Horror.’” Three years later, the horrors rage on—senseless armed conflicts, millions of displaced refugees, deadly disease, poverty, domestic violence, sexual abuse, mass shootings, human tafficking, natural disasters, wildfires, oppressive government—so that Your Definitive Guide for 2020 might read: “A Year of Horror with no Hope.” Harrower writes,

Horrors never go away; they are always with us—destroying life and maiming human beings…Horrors raise theological, existential, and pastoral questions. How is God involved in a world pockmarked by horrors. Is it possible to live meaningfully in such a random and death–directed world? Is there any hope for recovery from horrors and the traumas they generate in us?”1

The Bible, unlike any other religious book, doesn’t balk at portraying the darkest depravity of the human heart, but then it reveals how the Creator God is at work redeeming life amid the darkness. So it is with the Jacob story, it gives hope to those who have grown up in dysfunctional homes or been victims of violence or sexual abuse. Harrower explains that, “In order to recover from trauma, persons need to establish a sense of safety, lament their trauma in the context of a coherent story, and reconnect with their community.”2 In my opinion, this is what church ought to be, and it’s what I’ve found to be the most rewarding aspect of ministry.

But our story today strikes a happier note—it’s about Jacob’s search for a bride and the signifcant role courtship will play in Jacob’s life. Sadly, the art of courtship has all but faded from Western culture, and we are much poorer forit. But I hope this morning to give a vision of what courtship entails, not just as a prelude to marriage but as an integral part of our spiritual development.

Robert Alter refers to this story as a “type-scene,”3 signifying a fixed sequence of motifs that are repeated in the Bible. Betrothal type-scenes have several reoccurring motifs. A man is sent on a journey to a foreign land in search of a bride. Arriving there, he finds a young maiden by a well (a symbol of fertility). Following a brief conversation, and the drawing of water, the girl runs home to announce the news to her father. The scene ends with a betrothal agreement and feast. The story strikes a resonant chord in every man who wants to be a “prince charming,” and every woman who longs to be a beauty worth pursuing. Deeper still, it speaks to the fathomless longing of our hearts to be sought by God. The fact that this type-scenes repeats seven times in the Bible heightens its significance.4

Our text has four scenes. First, Jacob meets the shepherds of Haran; second, he meets Rachel; third, he meets his uncle Laban; and fourth, he negotiates with Laban to marry Rachel..

I. Jacob Meets the Shepherds in Haran (Gen 29:1–8)

A. Jacob’s arrival at the well (vv. 1–3)

1 Then Jacob went on his journey and came to the land of the people of the east. 2 As he looked, he saw a well in the field, and behold, three flocks of sheep lying beside it, for out of that well the flocks were watered. The stone on the well’s mouth was large, 3 and when all the flocks were gathered there, the shepherds would roll the stone from the mouth of the well and water the sheep, and put the stone back in its place over the mouth of the well. (Gen 29:1–3 esv)

Buoyed by his heavenly encounter with God and angels at Bethel, Jacob treks northeast to Haran with a renewed sense of purpose. The Hebrew text reads literally, “Jacob lifted his feet.” This is the only time this e

Genesis 28:10-22

Worship Guide

Printed Sermon

Sermon Slides

How would you describe the relational dynamics in your home growing up? When we examine the home of Isaac, it is hard to imagine a more dysfunctional family. Last week we saw how Isaac, in direct disobedience to God’s oracle, was determined to bless the wrong son, Esau; and then how Rebekah used Jacob to deceive his “blind” father into giving the blessing to the right son. It was an Academy Award performance—Jacob received best actor for his role as Esau. Isaac got best supporting actor, playing himself. But Rebekah stole the show winning three Oscars: The first for Costume and Makeup, the second for Set Design, and the third for Best Director.

That tension-filled drama pales in comparison to what comes next. After Isaac gives the blessing to Jacob, Esau returns from his successful hunt and prepares the game into the savory dish his father loves. Then the bomb drops. Learning his father has given the blessing to Jacob, Esau loses it. He screams and vents all his anger on the one he now hates. This hatred transforms him into a murderer, as he vows to kill Jacob after his father dies. Once more, Rebekah hears all the family secrets and leaps into action, using all her organizational skills to prevent a war. At his father’s command, Jacob heads to his mother’s home in Haran to seek a wife. But underlying his quest is the fear of being killed by a brother who hates him. The emotional damage in Jacob’s wake is so great, I doubt he thought he could ever ever go back as he enters an exile of his own making. It is a parent’s worst nightmare. Being banished is a horrific thought, which Shakespeare describes as worse than death.

Ha, banishment! Be merciful, say “death;”

  For exile hath more terror in his look,

much more than death. Do not say “banishment”…

There is no world without Verona walls,

  But purgatory, torture, hell itself.

Hence banished is banish’d from the world,

  And world’s exile is death.

   (Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III)1

But the Bible gives a different view, suggesting that for God’s people, exile can be the critical starting point of an authentic journey with God. In Jacob’s story this will become the place where God no longer directs the affairs of men from behind the scenes, but takes center stage. This commences a journey that will last twenty years. It is at the most critical junctures in this journey, at the initial stage of his flight and return home, that heaven breaks into his life. These two encounters will transform Jacob and his entire world.

Jacob’s Journey

A Jacob flees Esau

  B Angels of God meet Jacob at Bethel

    X Jacob in exile in Paddan Aram

  B' Angels of God meet Jacob at Mahanaim

A' Jacob reconciles with Esau

Jacob’s holy encounter becomes a paradigm for what God would later do with the nation Israel in the Exodus, and a thousand years later when she lay in lonely exile awaiting her Messiah (Isa 43:1-7). Thus it models for us how God in his grace breaks into the lives of his children who are “on the run.”

Our text has two movements, each with three parallel scenes. In the first Jacob is asleep and God descends. In the second Jacob is awake, and God receives his worship.

I. Jacob Sleeps, God descends (Gen 28:10–15)

A. On the run: Jacob arrives at a “no-place” (v.10–11)

10 Jacob left Beersheba and went toward Haran. 11 And he came to a certain place and stayed there that night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place to sleep. (Gen 28:10–11 esv)

The key word in our text is “place” (used 6 times). Jacob fled home and “came” to a “certain place.” The verb “came” (paga‘) is better translated “to meet, encounter, or reach.” When used geographically it usually pertains to a border crossing. But most often it describes life-changing encounters with people or angels

Genesis 27:1-29

Worship Guide

Printed Sermon

Sermon Slides

Today we return to the Jacob story where the drama centers around the word “blessing,” found seven times in our text. What does it mean to be “blessed”? The first thing God did after creating human life was to bless them:

And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” (Gen 1:28 esv)

To be blessed by God implies being infused with life that is abundant (“be fruitful and multiply and fill”) and victorious, overcoming resistance and evil (“subdue and have dominion”). As one scholar writes,

God’s blessing is his formative, empowering word (often, with overtones of appointing destiny). It is not an empty pronouncement or simply an expression of wish or goodwill, nor is it a bare command…Rather, the blessing of God has content; it actualizes and enables.1

God wants human beings to flourish, “like a tree planted by streams of water, that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaves do not wither, and all that it produces will flourish.” Despite man’s persistent rebellion in the opening chapters of Genesis, God set in motion his redemptive plan to bless the world through Abraham and his seed.

“I will make you into a great nation,

  and I will bless you;

I will make your name great,

  and you will be a blessing.

I will bless those who bless you,

  and whoever curses you I will curse;

and all peoples on earth

  will be blessed through you. ” (Gen 12:1–3 niv)

What does it mean to be fully human? It is to be infused with life that serves and blesses others. Today we reach that sacred moment when Abraham’s chosen son Isaac will pass down the coveted blessing to the next generation. But what ought to be a holy celebration and witness of God’s goodness and grace, is hijacked by self-interest, deceit and manipulation. Everyone looks to the father to act as head of the home, but his passivity has made him a laughingstock. Far from being the spiritual leader, he uses this holy occasion to feed his own appetites. If he succeeds, he will place the family history at risk. At this feast there is no prayer, family unity or peace. Everyone arrives with a personal agenda and will stop at nothing to get what they want. All expressions of love are self-serving. Conversation is laced with deception, flattery, and blasphemy. Competition has created such a chasm that one half of the family can’t even speak to the other.

Many of us have had similar painful family dynamics. Celebratory gatherings can open up old wounds, reestablish pecking orders, and reawaken our deepest, unfulfilled longings for expressions of love. Even the best homes can contain controlling forces that run as deep as the family history. When the festivities end, we wonder if we will ever shake our childhood identities and be liberated from the competition for that ever-elusive family “blessing.” The surprise of our text is that these dynamics occur within Israel’s chosen family. Just one generation after Abraham, the chosen family’s spiritual life has almost completely deteriorated. Our text addresses the question: How will God intervene to further his kingdom when the chosen family has all but denied his presence?

I. Pre-game Preparations: Isaac and Esau (27:1–4)

1 When Isaac was old and his eyes were dim so that he could not see, he called Esau his older son and said to him, “My son”; and he answered, “Here I am.” 2 He said, “Behold, I am old; I do not know the day of my death. 3 Now then, take your weapons, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field and hunt game for me, 4 and prepare for me delicious food, such as I love, and bring it to me so that I may eat, that my soul may bless you before I die.” (Gen 27:1–4 esv)

Here you might ask, how can Esau expect t

Genesis 25:19-34

Use this guide to help craft your pilgrimage for the next generation. Crafting our Pilgrimage for the Next Generation

Sermon Questions