The story of Jacob and Esau is a story of violence that begins before birth. It’s a story of trickery, of deceit. There’s even an element of parental strife, as father, Isaac, and mother, Rebekah, play favorites. On the surface, this isn’t the cheeriest of stories.
But then, I don’t believe we’re meant to read scripture on the surface. There’s something more here. This is a story about answered prayers—of direct and personal relationships with God. Isaac prays for a son; Rebekah prays for understanding. Both receive an answer. But there’s still more.
It’s a story of supplanting—Jacob is born holding his brother’s heel, and his name means “holder of the heel” or “sup- planter.” Of course, Jacob later takes a different name: Israel. Names are important in the Bible. Jacob has a destiny.
On the surface, it’s hard to sympathize with Jacob, the trick- ster who steals his brother’s inheritance and, later, the blessing. I imagine, though, that the Israelites held a different view. Israel, after all, was a tiny nation surrounded by empires—Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, and then the Persians, Greeks, and Romans.
An all but inevitable awareness of their situation must have made the Israelites appreciate stories about underdogs, about reversal of the so-called natural order between strong and weak. We see that reversal again and again in Genesis. Don’t we like to cheer for the underdogs too? For the weak who, with God’s help, somehow triumph? Especially when we’re the underdog?
In this story, God reminds us that we too can overcome the so-called natural order and triumph. We’re not predestined to suffer oppression or defeat. God roots for us; we are born for something greater—something of spirit, not just of the world.