Jacob is the younger brother. Younger brothers did not get the inheritance; older brothers did. Therefore, they were the poorer, more dependent family members -- to say nothing of the daughters! Societal norms gave all privileges to the first-born son and thus it was easily assumed that this was the God-ordained order of things. It's like thinking that if heterosexual white men have all the money, power and influence in the world, there must be a divine reason for it. That's how the older brothers were thought of.

Jacob is favored by his mother, while Esau was favored by his father. Again, the patriarchal nature of society would give the father authority over the mother. It was the father's blessing and inheritance handed down to the first-born son. The mother had little, if any, say in the matter. Patriarchal values predominated and women had to find underhanded or backhanded ways of gaining any control.

Now, in this story both of the parents are presented as flawed people, as are both of the sons. If God was going to find a leader, the only choices God had were inevitably faulty. So if God is going to choose one faulty person over another faulty person, God opts for the one with less power.

This is what liberation theologians have called God's "preferential option for the poor." The point is that God is not neutral. God is not equally tolerant of all flaws. God cheers for the underdog. While there may be grace for all people and hope for all people, it doesn't come about without some serious disturbance to the status quo. Grace often involves loss of privilege for those who have it. Repentance may mean turning norms upside down and letting go of enormous advantages.

The song which Mary sang before Jesus was born is the great example of this: the hungry will be filled, the full will be emptied, the lowly will be raised, the powerful will be brought down. The Exodus from slavery is another grand example of God's decision for the oppressed, as are the crucifixion and resurrection. The powerful appear to have all the influence, but ultimately, God uses whatever means are at hand to bring about the good.

Suddenly, this interesting story of one dysfunctional family takes on monumental meaning. Not all greed is equal, it seems. The greed of the welfare family making money under the table may not be the same as the executives of WorldCom scheming for millions of excess dollars. The corporate culture of greed about which we've heard so much demonstrates powerfully how the privilege of power can collapse when gratification comes before relationship, which was really the problem that Esau had. He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it and family be damned! He didn't recognize the weight of his position of privilege and therefore put immediate desires ahead of gifts.

How else might this story have turned out? Did Jacob have to behave so nastily for God's purpose to be achieved? Or could Esau, as the privileged older brother, have found a way to fairly share his wealth and power -- a way that would enable each of the brothers to bring their unique gifts and personalities to the table and to the faith community which God was building?

In the end, this text is not a morality play. It is not possible to read clear answers of black and white, good and bad behavior based on these two brothers. It is, however, a story that reminds us that God is not bound by social convention, nor does God rely on accident of birth to define privilege. That, in fact, God often reverses expectations and redefines power.

For many of us here, this is not necessarily good news. Well, I mean ultimately it is, but in the short run it probably doesn't feel that way. When we come here praying for peace for the world, food for the hungry, help for the downtrodden, we should probably beware. We may be praying for our own loss of power, privilege, influence, and inheritance. Even as I sneer at the corporate executives falling like flies I am painfully aware of the decreasing value of my retirement plan. That is only the tip of the iceberg, to say the least!

I think Annie Dillard summed up our position beautifully in her book, Teaching a Stone to Talk. She wrote:

On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews!

We often read our Bible longing for a little something sweet to suck on and instead we get these terribly ambiguous stories, full of rich nuance and incredible outcomes. God uses these ordinary, broken people, so much like ourselves, and turns the world on its head. Are we ready for this?

So I hand you this little stick of Biblical dynamite this morning with a warning. Beware: God at work, community of faith under construction: do not enter the premises without a hardhat!