Four Brothers and God’s Grace

Preached at Tigard Friends Church 1/27/2019

I want us to look at two stories from the Bible that use the relationships between older and younger brothers to explore what God wants from each of us, and how each of us has our own unique relationship with God. Ultimately, both stories give brilliant pictures of God’s grace to each of the brothers and also to each of us.

The first story is of the first brothers, Cain and Abel. They each specialize in a different branch of agriculture. Cain raises grain, and Abel raises sheep. When it comes time to thank God for the harvest, each offers something of what they have raised.

God graciously accepts Abel’s offering and rejects Cain’s. We do not really know why and must infer it from what happens next, namely that Cain carries the seeds of murder in his heart.

If we identify with Abel, we are working hard and giving part of what we produce to God. We are glad to see that God graciously accepts our offerings. We are also innocently oblivious to the inner dynamics in other people and trust that they mean us well. Abels are often surprised by the envy and hatred of others.

When Cain sees that God has rejected his offering and favored his younger brother, he becomes afraid that God has rejected him and as a result he is jealous and angry. God speaks to him directly and says, “Why are you angry? If you behave well, you will be accepted. If you behave badly, sin is at your door and wants to eat you up.” Cain says, essentially, “Whatever.” We see here the commitment of God to our free will, in that God could easily have prevented Cain from killing Abel and did not. It is always surprising how and when God intervenes in human affairs.

What in us might identify with Cain? Perhaps it is actual rivalry we have with our siblings. Perhaps our parents favored one child above the rest.  The first child has to watch parents get more lenient with second and third children. Perhaps now that we have grown up, we can see that our sibling has more trappings of success; we can see that though we work as hard or harder, everything goes our brother’s way. Even in religion, our sibling has a sunnier relationship with God and doesn’t seem to be afraid that God will reject her offering. Our sibling’s serene confidence is all by itself annoying.  Perhaps someone tries to reassure us that God will accept our offerings if we do the right thing, which we interpret as meaning we need work harder to earn God’s favor. Now we’re angry because we already tried that and failed.

So then Cain invites Abel out into the fields and kills him. This murder derives directly from the deadly sins that Cain has embraced in his heart. First, envy, then anger, then hatred. But just recall that they all are rooted in Cain’s fear that God does not love him as much as God loves Abel.

God again speaks to Cain directly and says, “Where is your brother?” Cain replies, “How would I know? Am I my brother’s keeper?” God says, “The earth itself cries out for justice for your brother’s blood. Therefore, you will be cursed by the land, which will not bear fruit for you. You will wander homeless.”

Cain says, “My sin is too bad for your grace. You have cast me out and you will hide your face from me, and I am a homeless wanderer. Anyone who finds me will kill me.” God replies, “No, in fact, whoever kills Cain will be punished even more severely.” And God places a mark on Cain so that no one will kill him.

So Cain departs from the face of God, a fugitive on the earth. But he finds a wife, they had a son named Enoch, and Cain builds a city and names it after his son.

Now why was Cain’s offering unacceptable? God’s rejection of the offering was not a rejection of Cain, which we can see in that God shows up to talk with Cain again, but it brings Cain’s inner life into the open. Cain is prone to comparing himself to others, which has its roots in fear of being unacceptable or inadequate, and which becomes envy when he sees God accepting Abel’s offering. This envy evolves into wishing Abel ill and progresses to actively eliminating the competition for God’s favor. Perhaps Cain sees God’s favor as a limited resource, so if Abel gets some, there is less for Cain.

I have found that this story stirs up in me a desire to do whatever it takes to be acceptable to God, so I can be as good as Abel, the one God likes best. It makes me want to be and do good so that God will be gracious to me. This impulse derives from the part where God says to Cain, “If you behave well, will you not be accepted?” When I respond this way, with increased good intentions, I miss the point, and the good I do is marred by its origin in comparison. St. Paul tells us to rejoice when others rejoice and to weep when they weep. This is impossible to do when I am comparing myself to others and becoming envious as Cain does.

I also have shared in Cain’s sense of being cast away by God. But note: Cain is the one who says that God is banishing him from God’s presence, and this internal state is what he carries with him. However, we know that we cannot elude God’s presence, though it is not always comfortable to have God so close. As the Psalmist David says, “Where can I go to get away from you? If I ascend into the heavens, there you are. If I make my bed in the grave or descend to hell, there you are.” And as Job the theologian says, “Could you not look away from me for one moment so I can swallow my spit?” So the distance between Cain and God exists only within Cain.

I also have shared Cain’s idea of justice. A murderer is beyond grace, deserves to be rejected and cast out of decent society. A murderer deserves to have the life taken away that he or she took away from someone else. This is justice, and Cain expects it. It makes sense, like adding 2 plus 2 and getting 4, or more appropriately subtracting 1 from 2 and then from 1, ending up in nothing and no one left.

It is interesting to note that the physical earth cries out about Abel’s blood. The need for justice runs through the universe and executing justice is God’s problem. We humans tend toward revenge rather than justice, and when God limits our revenge to eye for eye, we think that’s God’s idea of justice. But the prophet Micah says to us that we ourselves are to do justice and to love mercy; loving mercy mitigates against eye for eye justice. Instead, we judge God’s justice and mercy by our own, which hardly does justice to God..

What we learn about Grace

First, God’s grace shows in God’s willingness to have unique personal relationships with humans. God speaks directly to Cain, confronting him with the truth about what is inside him and then later with what he has done. God is gracious enough to confront us, to remind us of our ability to choose good, and often to give us time to grow into better people. There is no question that Cain chooses to behave badly, so it is easy to ignore the fact that when God confronts his attitude, this is grace to him, reminding him that he has a choice, and that God exhibits grace to him even when he has chosen very badly.

Second, God describes to him how the physical universe cries out because of Abel’s blood, and that there are life consequences for Cain, the farmer. The exercise of our free will has consequences, sometimes ones we see close up, sometimes ones experienced by subsequent generations or peoples far away. God’s grace doesn’t often (or perhaps ever) remove the physical and temporal consequences of human choices.

Third, God does not, in fact, shed Cain’s blood in payment for Abel. This calls into question our idea that the later Mosaic law that says, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life expresses God’s ideal. God’s grace uses a different kind of math to achieve justice. Furthermore, God’s grace makes us question our own simple understanding of justice. Indeed, God protects Cain from others who might kill him as a murderer.

Fifth, Cain does in fact wander, but eventually he has a family and builds a home and a city. So, in a moment when God could be exactly just and take from Cain the same life Cain took from Abel, God instead shows Cain mercy, gives him protection, and allows him to live a full life.

I won’t speak for everyone here, but I do think it’s common to be envious when we see God taking care of other people, particularly other people we see as second to us, either by birth order (as for Cain), by morality, by nationality, by some other measure. The psalms are full of questions to God: Why do the others prosper? Why are you so unhelpful to me?. “Why do the wicked prosper?” we complain with the prophet Jeremiah. We often have a desire to see God’s justice distributed on the bad guys and to have God’s mercy and grace distributed to us.

Our response to seeing God’s favor showered on other people reveals to us the state of our own souls. St. Paul says, “Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.” But if I’m obsessed with fairness, I may well rejoice in others’ misfortunes and weep only over my own. Turns out, God doesn’t like that. God will confront me directly and warn me about my envy and fear of unacceptability.

The second pair of brothers is the famous unnamed pair in the story we call the Prodigal Son. Jesus tells this story in the context of stories about God caring for the lost. Two brothers and a father, and the younger asks for his inheritance and goes off to waste it in wild living. The older stays home and works like a slave for their father while keeping an eye on his future inheritance.

The younger is working as a swineherd when he comes to his senses. He realizes that the pigs are getting more to eat than he is and that his father’s slaves live in more comfort than he does. He decides to go home and plans a repentance where he offers to work for his father as a slave. 

And when he nears home, the father, who has been watching for him since he left, runs to meet him. The father orders up for the prodigal son the best clothing, the finest jewelry, and the fattest calf for a (prodigal) feast. “My son who was dead is now alive!” he says.

When we identify with the younger son, we can celebrate whole-heartedly the gracious welcome of the father. We see how God is always waiting to welcome the wanderer back with open arms and heart. We are relieved to note that there is a welcome for bad brothers, the Cains of the world, and this encourages us to leave our unsatisfying self-made lives and run to God. I’ve found this so hopeful when I’ve clearly made a mess of things and found that God’s love is nonetheless constant.

But when we identify with the older brother who has worked all his life to please his father, we can learn some additional things about God’s grace. First, it is possible to live a life surrounded and infused by God’s presence and grace and never notice. It is possible to believe that we are earning God’s favor by our diligence and devotion. And when we do not recognize that we owe everything to God’s grace, it is maddening to see God ladle it out over a person who has forsaken God and goodness. It scandalizes our sense of fair play, of justice even, especially when there is no acknowledgement of our own moral excellence, when the only notice we get is to be invited to welcome the wastrel back.  We didn’t even get to throw ourselves a birthday party! I myself have said to God, “I know you’re gonna let that so and so into heaven and I’m not happy about it.”

The father’s response to his sulky son (who may be thinking about inviting his brother into the field to kill him…) is to confront his inaccurate view of their relationship head on. First, he calls him, “My son,” affirming their intimate relationship. Second, he reminds him, “Everything I have is yours.” The father remains committed to the son’s best interests, despite the son’s self-absorption. Third, he says, and I imagine gently, “But isn’t it appropriate to celebrate when our son and brother comes back from the dead?” He invites the son to rejoice with those who rejoice, to join the party.

So what do we learn from looking at these sets of brothers side by side?

1.     We humans have a tendency to compare ourselves to others.

2.     This tendency is often destructive of inner peace and relationships with those others. It leads to envy and other deadly sins.

3.     We humans tend to want God to be just to other people and gracious to ourselves.

4.     However, God’s grace surrounds and infuses our human lives, whether we recognize it or not. God’s grace reminds us to go home to God, protects us when we are wandering, offers hope for something better.

5.     We cannot and do not earn grace. Grace means favor we have not (and cannot) earn.

6.     Our response to seeing God’s grace in action for ourselves and for others needs to be gratitude (which includes the word grace). God’s grace is gratis—or free—and this is true for us and for those we have written off as prodigal, wicked, naïve, or prissy.

7.     We can tell we have the right attitude about God’s grace when we can rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.

One of the dominant metaphors for God’s kingdom is a feast, a party. Let’s be grateful for how God’s grace surrounds us and how God is gracious to others as well, and we can be the life of the party in the kingdom of God.

Peace and Justice/Just Us

Preached at Reedwood Friends, Jan. 6, 2013

Genesis 3, 4, 27, 32, 33

When Ken invited me to preach during Peace Month, he laid before me all the options—World Peace, the end of racism or sexism or prejudice of any kind,  or reconciliation between persons.  I actually believe all peace begins in the individual heart, that a heart at peace cannot hate or disparage or belittle or slander or badmouth another person, group of people, or nation.  So I chose the topic I think is most important, and also the one I am always working on.

As a child, like many or most children, I felt unjustly treated, shamed, bullied, and lied to.  As a result, I conceived a huge passion for justice.  My favorite Bible story was the sudden justice delivered to Ananias and Sapphira when they lied to the Holy Spirit and Peter and dropped dead.  But as I grew up and recognized some of my own unjust, shaming, bullying, and deceptive actions, I became more of a fan of mercy.  As GKChesterton wrote, “For children are innocent and love justice; while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy” (On Household Gods and Goblins, 1922).

As the wise writer Jeremiah wrote, “The human heart—i.e. “the seat of internal processes, including both feeling and thinking, as well as dreading, ruminating, aspiring, and so forth” (Dr. Joel Hoffman, “Five Bible Images You Probably Misunderstand,” Huffpo)—what we might more accurately call the self—is is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked” (Jeremiah 17:9).  Or as Bob Dylan wrote, “Heart of mine, so malicious and so full of guile, Give you an inch and you’ll take a mile.” Or as Jesus pointed out, “Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies; these are the things which defile us, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile us” (Matthew 15:19-20).

There are two responses that will make the rest of this sermon hypothetical rather than useful.  One is resisting this point.  My self isn’t desperately wicked, my self isn’t malicious and full of guile, my self is not the seat of all those awful sins. I have some good qualities! But this is a serious problem in the way of a peaceful heart. If we have never noticed that a large part of our internal processes are self-justifying, we will not ever ask ourselves why we need to justify ourselves, and we will not ever see that we might at some time have done something despicable and harmful to another person. St. Paul writes to Timothy about those who speak lies in hypocrisy, having their consciences seared with a hot iron (2 Tim 1:3).  We can for a long time avoid an accurate self-understanding that includes our potential for evil.

Another unhelpful response is yes, I am a terrible person and there is no hope for me.  St. Paul writes to Titus about those whose conscience is defiled, which means it is unhelpful in sorting things out, and that lovable apostle St. John writes, “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”  Sometimes our consciences are poorly trained and either let us off the hook too often or keep us on the hook too often.  Neither is helpful.  We need to submit our consciences to the guidance of Jesus, who promises to lead us into all truth, and who can retrain our consciences.

So the first step to a peaceful heart is an accurate self-understanding, which includes submitting our consciences to examination by Jesus and living into the repentance and discipline Jesus prescribes.  Let me encourage you to let down your guard and invite Jesus to examine your selves, your consciences, your hearts.  Then please be obedient to what he prescribes for you to do.

A second step toward peace is laying down our swords.  A vivid bad example of a heart not at peace is provided by the interpersonal conflict between Cain and Abel.  Here is the whole story from Genesis 4: Now Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a tiller of the ground.  Cain brought to the Lord an offering of the fruit of the ground, and bel for his part brought of the firstlings of his flock, their fat portions.  And the Lord had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard.  So Cain was very angry, and his countenance fell.  The Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your countenance fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it.”

Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let us go out to the field.” And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel, and killed him.  Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” And the Lord said, “What have you done? Listen; your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground! And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand.  When you till the ground, it will no longer yield to you its strength; you will be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.”

Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is greater than I can bear! Today you have driven me away from the soil, and I shall be hidden from your face; I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, and anyone who meets me may kill me.” Then the Lord said to him, “Not so! Whoever kills Cain will suffer a sevenfold vengeance.” And the Lord put a mark on Cain so that no one who came upon him would kill him. Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord, and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden.

This conflict seems to have existed without Abel knowing about it.  Both brothers offered the fruits of their work to God, and God accepted only Abel’s. God tells Cain, “If you do well, will you not be accepted?” And, as the saying goes, the proof was in the pudding.  The reason why God accepted only Abel’s offering is made clear when Cain throws a fit.  Instead of looking inside himself to see what might have made his offering unacceptable, Cain solves the problem more primitively and eliminates the competition.

A question for us to consider is this:  Is there someone in my life who stands between me and my goals or hopes? Does the person who stands between me and what I want actually represent something inside me? A fear, a shame, an unwillingness to risk?

I recently had to confess to a close friend that I had blamed him for years for an action he took that I believed stood between me and my goals.  I had to admit that what really got in my way was my own ambivalence and fear.  It was much easier to blame someone else.

As a woman in a patriarchal culture, I have wanted to blame men in general and specific men in particular for the fact I have not achieved my dreams.  I was brought up short in this pattern by a young woman who said, “My real barriers are inside me.” 

Another step toward peace is laying down our shields. Another vivid bad example of hearts not at peace comes from Genesis 3.  Just after Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, God comes to visit them as usual.  They are hiding in the trees and have become afraid because they are naked, as Adam says.  When God asks Adam, “Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat,” Adam answers: “The woman whom you gave me to be with me, she gave me fruit from the tree, and I ate.”  Adam manages in this statement to admit what he did but blame both Eve and God for his disobedience.  When God asks Eve, “What is this that you have done?”, she replies, “The serpent tricked me, and I ate.” She also admits what she did, but she passes the blame on to the serpent.  The serpent is speechless. 

More questions: Is there someone in my life I blame for the fact I have made mistakes or strayed from the right path? Does the blame I place on another person allow me to avoid confronting my own contribution to the conflict? Does blaming someone else help me to avoid shame?

It is possible to work for years to come to terms with admitting what I contributed to an estrangement—what I did wrong, in other words.  I can pray for justice, work to forgive, apologize for what I can see I did wrong, and still feel that the other person blames me for everything, and this is not fair or just. I have to admit that I am still more interested in being heard than in listening, that I want to explain why it isn’t my fault, or at least isn’t all my fault, and I want the other person to admit his or her errors of judgment and behavior also.  Can I move into actual reconciliation?  Not with my shields up.

I knew a married couple who fought bitterly over their understanding of the grace of God. The first accused the second of believing she was saved by good works and the second accused the first of believing that once he was saved, he could behave any old way.  Underneath this theological argument were two people disappointed in each other and disappointed in their marriage who were fighting each other to avoid admitting any disappointment with themselves. Failing to be a good spouse was too shameful to be looked at squarely. After years, their hearts softened and with the help of a counselor, they could lay down their swords and shields, accept grace from God and each other, and extend grace to each other.  Their essential characters are not changed, but their demeanor toward each other is so vastly different it is like a miracle. 

More questions: Is there someone in my life who has failed to measure up to what he or she should be or believe or do? Is it possible that my disappointment with this person masks some sort of disappointment with myself?

And now, a good example of brothers laying down their swords and shields that starts off, of course, bad.

Genesis 27, 32 and 33 tell the story of twin brothers, Esau and Jacob.  They were nothing alike, and seemed to be struggling for top dog status even in the womb.  Esau is famous for trading his rights as first born to Jacob for a bowl of soup, and Jacob is famous for cheating Esau out of his blessing as first born by deceiving their blind father Isaac.  Add into all this the fact that the dad favored Esau and the mom favored Jacob. And that Esau was a man’s man while Jacob could hardly grow a beard. Trouble everywhere. 

Esau’s original response to Jacob was this, “Soon my father will die and then I will kill my brother Jacob.” Esau felt like Cain, that if he could simply remove the competition, he would regain all he had lost of God’s blessing and his first-born rights.  He blamed Jacob for all he had lost, even though to an outside observer, he seemed pretty careless with his birthright and maybe should have partly blamed himself. 

Their mother heard of Esau’s threat, called Jacob in and warned him.  “Your brother Esau is consoling himself by planning to kill you.  Flee to your uncle’s and stay awhile until your brother’s fury lessens, until his anger turns away and he forgets what you have done to him.”  So Jacob took off.   Jacob’s essential trickster character remained constant through his time with his uncle, and he became rich at his uncle’s expense.  God told him to go home, and he and his wives and children and servants and animals took all his property and started for home. 

As he neared home, he began sending messengers to Esau, announcing his arrival and reporting back to him how Esau took the news.  They told him, “Esau is coming to meet you with four hundred men.”  Jacob was scared. It sounded to him like a fighting force.  He split up his wealth so that at worst he would lose only half.  He sent presents ahead to Esau of herd after herd of livestock with space in between.  He prayed for God to protect him from his brother, and in that prayer he said to God, “I am not worthy of the least of all the steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant.”  This prayer reveals that at long last, Jacob is telling the truth about himself to God, a truth that he may have been avoiding his whole life by clawing his way to wealth and position through hard dealing and deceitfulness.

That night, Jacob wrestled bodily with God.  Symbolically, this is the same wrestling match that he had been engaged in his whole life.  When the Spirit he was wrestling puts his hip out of joint, laming him for life, this was the same limp he had been covering for his whole life.  God blessed him with a change in name, symbolizing a new view of himself, a change from “Cheater” or “Supplanter” to “One who strives with God” –a change from “low-life” to “full human being.”

In the morning, Jacob saw Esau approaching.  He knew he had done Esau wrong, and he approached him as a supplicant, bowing seven times.  And here is the surprise.  Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept.   

Who knows what process Esau went through to move from wanting to kill Jacob to welcoming him home like the father welcomes home the prodigal son in the parable told by Jesus.  It is clear that Esau no longer feels himself held down by Jacob’s tricksy manipulations.  The yoke of anger and hatred has been broken off his neck.  He is forgiving, even to the point of allowing Jacob to try to make things right by giving him gifts.  As my daughter Liz pointed out to me, Esau is the first example of an outright forgiveness in the Bible.

More questions:  Is there someone in my life who makes me feel inferior?  Is my conflict with that person standing in for admitting my own sense of worthlessness, my shame at somehow not measuring up? If I just admit the truth about myself to God, what does God say to me?

Here are the signs that my heart is not at peace:  I am competing for attention, blaming others, judging and criticizing others, and cheating to get ahead. 

To have a heart at peace means that I no longer am acting in my own defense. I have wrestled with God, admitted to God my worst stuff, accepted that God values our relationship because God values me, not my innocence, not my perfection, not my achievements, not my rightness, not my religious devotion.  God values you and me, knowing full well how easily we make mistakes, how easily we slip into self-justifying and blaming others, how easily we try to cover up for ourselves.  God values us and loves it when we get honest and open and accept God’s love without trying to earn it.  God loves us because God is love.  And there is enough love for all.

Pray for justice when you are in conflict with another person.  If you pray for justice, God will be help you be just, which involves seeing both the other and yourself more clearly.  And then lean into the help Jesus gives to repent and forgive.