ESAU SCARRED BY DECEPTION Part two

The years passed and Isaac began to lose his sight.
One day he called Esau.
“Son, I'm an old man now and expect to die any day. Go to the field with your bow and arrows and get me some venison. Make me a good stew just the way I like it, and bring it to me to eat. I want to give you the blessing that belongs to you as my eldest son”
Sadness clashed with the joyful anticipation of his long awaited blessing; sadness at the thought of the imminent death of his best friend, his faithful ally, his beloved father. Picking up his bow and arrows Esau made his way into the open countryside.
Someone moved in the shadows behind the tent, someone who had been listening to the conversation between Isaac and his favourite son. Rebekah quickly called her favourite son, Jacob, and told him what she had just heard. She then gave him instructions on how to steal Esau's blessing and how to trick his father.
Jacob had always obeyed his mother’s voice without question. Now the only thing that worried him was that his dad would discover the lies and curse him rather than bless him. His mother’s reply disarmed him. “My son, let the curse fall on me. Just do what I say.”
Jacob got the kids, and his mother quickly prepared the stew.
Then taking Esau’s best clothes she dressed her younger son. She solved the problem of his hairless arms and neck by covering them with the goat skins, and then as an accomplice in this terrible deception she handed him the stew and bread and sent him to his father.
The trick was a success and Jacob received the coveted blessing.
Just as Jacob left his father’s tent, Esau came from the field. The long awaited sacred moment was almost a reality. The hunter prepared his father’s favorite dish with high expectations, all the while imagining his reaction, his appreciation, his approval. As he put the finishing touches on the meal, he tried to guess what the blessing reserved for him as the eldest son would be. His heart raced as he entered his father’s tent, the cheerful tone of his voice reflecting his excitement. “Dad, sit up and eat from some of my game. Then you can give me your blessing.”
“Who are you?” his father interrupted.
“I’m Esau your firstborn son!”
Could it be that the old man was losing his memory as well as his sight? He was not prepared for what happened next. The old man began to tremble violently.
“Who was it then that hunted game and brought it to me?” Confused, he shook his head and continued,
“I ate it just before you came, and I blessed him!”
Esau covered his face with his hands. His heart pounded. Something like acid spilt over inside him, the acid of bitterness that burns everything it touches.
“Bless me – me too, my father,” he wailed.
His father’s reply pierced his wounded heart.
“Your brother came deceitfully and took your blessing!!”
“He’s rightly named Jacob!” The bitter words fell like red hot coals.
“Deceiver! He’s fooled me twice. First my birthright, now my blessing. Have you reserved a blessing for me?”
Isaac remembered the many times he had defended Esau from his brother. What had been so easy back then was now impossible.
His pathetic answer only emphasized the reality of the tragedy.
He spoke slowly, each word dripping with hopelessness.
“There’s nothing I can do son. I've already put your brother over you; all his relatives will serve him. I have sustained him with grain and wine. What can I do now for you, my son?”
Waves of anger passed over Esau. His face flushed and his breath came erratically. Clenching his hands he hunched his trembling body as a bull when faced with a red rag.
“Haven’t you one more blessing, my father? Bless me!” he roared.
Suddenly he broke down. Tears rolled down his cheeks, settling into his thick red beard, tears of anger, frustration and helplessness. But instead of relieving the heat inside his chest, the fire intensified and Esau felt the awful effect wrought by the acid of bitterness.
Amid his wailing, he heard his father pronounce a ' second class' blessing, or was it a curse?
“Your dwelling will be away from the earth’s richness, away from the dew of heaven above. You will live by the sword and you will serve your brother. But when you grow restless, you will throw his yoke from off your neck.”
Without even a glance at his father, Esau slunk out of the tent.
“After the mourning for my father’s death is over, I will kill Jacob,” he muttered.
Rebekah cunningly contrived a plan to protect Jacob. She convinced her husband that the reason was so he would not marry the neighboring women. So, with the blessing of his father, Jacob left home.
Apparently this solved the problem. Esau was no longer harassed by his brother’s presence but the bitterness kept eating away inside, influencing all his decisions. He decided to go to visit his uncle Ishmael.
*** *** ***
“Uncle! Uncle Ishmael! I’m your nephew Esau.”
He quickened his steps. Finally he would meet his father's brother, Ishmael, a stranger to the family. He’d heard so much about him and had always had the impression that he was a kindred spirit.
And so it was. Within a very short time the two men found a tie that united their souls. Esau was finally able to express his bitterness to someone who understood him perfectly. Not surprisingly he fell in love with his cousin Mahalath, Ishmael’s daughter, the magnet that drew them together, their bitter outlook on life.

*** *** ***

Years passed. The day came when Esau had the opportunity to reconcile with his brother Jacob, but sadly, hugs and kisses could never eradicate the lasting effect of the bitterness that already pervaded the spiritual DNA of their own children and the following generations.

*** *** ***

Many generations pass.
Obadiah rubs his eyes and wonders if he is dreaming. He shakes his head to convince himself that he is awake. Suddenly it dawns on him that he is witnessing a vision. The prophet of God stands to his feet and gives it all his attention. Adrenaline flows through his body and he begins to speak firmly:

This is what the Sovereign Lord says about Edom—
“See, I will make you small among the nations; you will be utterly despised. The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rocks and make your home on the heights, you who say to yourself, ‘Who can bring me down to the ground?’ Though you soar like the eagle and make your nest among the stars, from there I will bring you down,” declares the LORD. “If thieves came to you, robbers in the night— oh, what a disaster awaits you!—
would they not steal only as much as they wanted? If grape pickers came to you, would they not leave a few grapes? But how Esau will be ransacked, his hidden treasures pillaged! All your allies will force you to the border; your friends will deceive and overpower you; those who eat your bread will set a trap for you …”

As the prophet speaks, the details of the Edomites’ background become clear; we see beyond the visible, behind the appearances, intentions, and actions.
The endless chain manifests itself:
A small redheaded boy, protagonist in a rivalry between twin brothers.
A teenager, caught in the conflict of parents’ preferences.
A young hunter, victim of his brother’s deception.
A man caught in a trap set by his own mother.
A bitter man’s affinity for a bitter relative.
Esau, a link in the chain of bitterness, which perpetuates through his descendants.
The father of a nation with unbalanced reactions.
Progenitor of a highly aggressive nation.
A nation that ends up alone, deceived and . . . annihilated.
Obadiah sighs deeply as he reaches the end of his prophecy. His voice cannot hide his own pain when pronouncing the final words:
“There will be no survivors from Esau. The Lord has spoken.”