Reverend Jonathan Waits
Sermon: Playing Favorites (Genesis 27)
Date: September 8, 2024
Julie Andrews lent her voice to some of the most iconic movie songs ever. One that has always been among my favorites is “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music. In attempting to distract and reassure her nanny charges during a thunderstorm, she invites them to think about their favorite things. We all have favorite things. For instance, my favorite pie is pecan pie. (That’s not to be confused with pee-can pie or pee-cahn pie; those are different.) My favorite baseball team is the Kansas City Royals, who are in the midst of one of the most dramatic season turnarounds in baseball history. My favorite professional football team is the Kansas City Chiefs. I promise we will be magnanimous as we continue to outshine the Patriots’ dynasty in every way. College is all Kansas, of course. My favorite super spy is Ethan Hunt. My favorite drink is probably a cherry limeade from Sonic. My favorite book is probably still C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity, but his The Screwtape Letters would be a close second. Marvel is superior to D.C. Studios on the big screen in every way, and not even James Gunn will fix that. But in the animation department, D.C. owns everyone and it’s not close.
I could go on, but you get my point. I have my favorite things. So do you. Perhaps some of our things may line up, but I doubt we share too many of the same things. That’s because I’m me and you’re you. Yet what does it mean that these are our favorite things? It simply means that we are going to pick them over something else every single time we are given the chance. Now, for most things, having favorites really doesn’t matter very much. It’s inconsequential which thing you pick (unless you pick the wrong one, in which case you could wind up spending your life cheering for the wrong team or eating the wrong foods or listening to the wrong music). There are other places, though, where this whole exercise begins to matter a great deal more. One of these places is in our families. Playing favorites there matters a whole lot more, and not in a good way.
Today finds us in the third part of our teaching series, Stormy Waters. We all face conflict from time to time. This happens in all sorts of different situations in our lives, but some of the hardest and most painful conflict we face is in our families. Family conflict is hard. It’s anxiety-inducing. It can transform what should be a safe place into one fraught with danger. It can divide us from the people we should love the most in the whole world. Navigating these stormy waters without drowning along the way can be a real headache. Over the course of this six weeks, and with some wisdom from some of the families we meet in the collection of origin stories we find in the Scriptures called Genesis, we are talking about different kinds of conflict we face in our families and how to make it through them without losing our minds along the way.
So far along this journey we have talked about the conflict that can come from our being different from other members of our family, and the conflict that can happen when we feel like our rights have been denied. In both cases, turning toward God and away from our more natural inclinations is the way through the storm. From the story of Cain and Abel we were reminded that although differences can divide us, righteousness holds us together. Then, last week, from the story of Abraham and Lot’s conflict over land rights, we saw that when we can’t get what’s ours, we trust God to provide.
This morning, we are talking about another source of conflict in our families. This one springs from the fount of favoritism. If you are a parent, you’ve probably talked to your spouse about your kids. More specifically, you’ve talked to your spouse about your kids when you were irritated with them. In those moments, there’s a good chance you didn’t say the children, much less our children. You probably used the phrase your children. We do that kind of thing fairly lightly (or not so lightly, depending on the moment, but we mean it lightly even if the mood isn’t), but sometimes we can find ourselves falling into the mindset of thinking of one child as especially ours in a way that goes beyond a bit of situational silliness. Playing favorites in a family can be an entirely more serious affair, and the source of all kinds of conflict in our families. I’d like to spend a few minutes with you today talking about how we can navigate these stormy waters.
Like all of these different kinds of family conflict we are talking about in this series, showing favoritism in the context of a family is not a new thing. It is an old thing. A very old thing. We have stories of parents’ playing favorites in some of the earliest families we met in the Scriptures. Abraham did it with his children, causing all kinds of headaches. His grandson, Jacob, did it with his wives and his own children, resulting in no small amount of chaos. But lest you think the tendency toward favoritism in a family skipped a generation, let me assure you it did not. And the favoritism between those two bookends was a precursor to a conflict that unfolded over the span of centuries. This morning, I want to walk with you through some of the story of Abraham’s son, Isaac, his wife Rebekah, and the effects of their playing favorites in their family. If you have a copy of the Scriptures with you this morning, join me in Genesis 25, and we’ll see how all of this got started.
Now, Isaac was the son of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham had other children with other women as was unfortunately common in that culture, but Isaac was uniquely theirs. When Isaac grew up, in order to maintain the cohesion of their tribe, Abraham sent his most trusted servant to visit his brother, Nahor’s family in hopes of finding a wife for his son there among his cousins. Thankfully, that aspect of their culture was left in the past as well. As it turns out, the servant found Isaac’s wife in a woman named Rebekah. The two were married, but like his parents had, Isaac and Rebekah struggled to conceive. God finally granted them that blessing, and Rebekah found herself pregnant with twins.
Pick up in the story here with me in Genesis 25:19: “These are the family records of Isaac son of Abraham. Abraham fathered Isaac. Isaac was forty years old when he took as his wife Rebekah daughter of Bethuel the Aramean from Paddan-aram and sister of Laban the Aramean. Isaac prayed to the Lord on behalf of his wife because she was childless. The Lord was receptive to his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. But the children inside her struggled with each other, and she said, ‘Why is this happening to me?’ So she went to inquire of the Lord. And the Lord said to her: ‘Two nations are in your womb; two peoples will come from you and be separated. One people will be stronger than the other, and the older will serve the younger.’ When her time came to give birth, there were indeed twins in her womb. The first one came out red-looking, covered with hair like a fur coat, and they named him Esau. After this, his brother came out grasping Esau’s heel with his hand. So he was named Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when they were born.”
So, the two brothers were pretty radically different in just about every way from before they even left the starting gate. We could have examined this passage instead of the story of Cain and Abel back in our first week. But just because they were different, that by itself didn’t have to be a source of conflict. It often is, but in their case, another factor played into the potential problem. And this factor took what could have been mildly troublesome and turned it into a disaster.
We are introduced to this factor in the next story here in Genesis 25. The story is ultimately about Jacob—the child who came out grasping at his brother’s heel—successfully tricking his shortsighted brother into giving up his birthright as the oldest son. This didn’t really matter much right then, but given Isaac’s personal wealth, when it came time to sort out the inheritance for each boy, Jacob managed to literally double his inheritance at the expense of his brother’s. Before we get to that story, though, Moses gives us a general update on the two boys. Listen to this in v. 27: “When the boys grew up, Esau became an expert hunter, an outdoorsman, but Jacob was a quiet man who stayed at home. Isaac loved Esau because he had a taste for wild game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.”
So, what’s this? Well, because of the personality differences between the two boys and the way those differences resonated or didn’t with their parents, Isaac gravitated more in the direction of Esau, while his wife, Rebekah gravitated more in the direction of Jacob. The language Moses uses is that Isaac loved Esau, while Rebekah loved Jacob. This doesn’t mean that each parent didn’t love the other child. Neither is it talking specifically about an emotional connection with one kid or the other. The language of love in the Old Testament often has a great deal more to do with will than emotion. Each parent was drawn more to the one than the other. They chose the one rather than the other. To put that another way: They each had their favorite kid.
When this kind of thing happens in a family, it is rarely intentional. Maybe a particular parent and particular kid just have personalities that happen to resonate really well with each other. Meanwhile, the personalities of the parent and other kids just don’t jive. It takes both of them a lot more effort to be able to find points of relational connection, and while they both want to find those points, the natural hurdles involved in their being discovered keep them from being discovered very often. Over time, the bond between the resonant personalities grows stronger and stronger. The favoring parent here can eventually start to see the other kids through the lens of the difficulties they have in connecting relationally resulting in their being more likely to give them a harder time than is given to the favored child. Lots of folks today have blended families. This pattern is even easier to fall into in that situation. You are drawn more to your kid than theirs. That’s natural, but it is also devastating to the kids. And again, none of this happens on purpose or overnight. It is a process that can unfold over many years.
Well, as it turns out, the Genesis account of Isaac’s family gives us the chance to see how things are going on the other side of this process. It’s not a pretty picture. Jump forward with several years and several verses to the beginning of Genesis 27. Here we find Isaac nearing the end of his life and preparing to give his patriarchal blessing to his children, more specifically his oldest and favorite child, Esau. This blessing, kind of like the birthright Esau had already foolishly traded away, was considered a serious and even legally binding pronouncement that would have made him the official leader of the household when Isaac died.
Check out how this all unfolds with me. “When Isaac was old and his eyes were so weak that he could not see, he called his older son Esau and said to him, ‘My son,’ And he answered, ‘Here I am.’ He said, ‘Look, I am old and do not know the day of my death. So now take your hunting gear, your quiver and bow, and go out in the field to hunt some game for me. Then make me a delicious meal that I love and bring it to me to eat, so that I can bless you before I die.’”
This was all pretty standard affair for families back then. Now, Isaac was perhaps being a little dramatic as it would be several decades still before he died, but he didn’t know that at the time. He was simply doing what any father then would have done. He was glad to do it, too, because Esau was his favorite son. Esau was not, however, his mom’s favorite son. Remember: Rebekah loved Jacob. And over the years, while Isaac had favored Esau to the point that Jacob had almost no real relationship with his dad, Rebekah had doubled and tripled down on her love for her baby. She wanted him to have the best of everything so far as she could make that happen for him.
As a result, when Isaac called Esau and gave him his instructions, Rebekah was listening just outside the tent, and she had her own plans in mind. “Now Rebekah was listening to what Isaac said to his son Esau. So while Esau went to the field to hunt some game to bring in, Rebekah said to her son Jacob [notice the language that’s being used here—his son and her son], ‘Listen! I heard your father talking with your brother Esau. He said, “Bring me game and make a delicious meal for me to eat so that I can bless you in the Lord’s presence before I die.” Now, my son, listen to me and do what I tell you. Go to the flock and bring me two choice young goats, and I will make them into a delicious meal for your father—the kind he loves. Then take it to your father to eat so that he may bless you before he dies.’”
This is just deception, plain and simple. Rebekah was conspiring against her husband to take what he meant for his favorite son and make sure that it was given to her favorite son. Jacob expresses some doubts about the plan, namely that Esau is much hairier than he is, and smelled like the outdoors where he spent all his time. If Isaac catches on to their scheme, he might curse Jacob instead of blessing him. Verse 13 now: “His mother said to him, ‘Your curse be on me, my son. Just obey me and go get them for me.’”
This was a risky scheme, but Rebekah didn’t care. She wanted what she wanted for her son, and she wasn’t going to worry about what might happen if things didn’t go as planned. She would figure that out when the time came. And, wouldn’t you know it, the time eventually came. It didn’t come right away. At first, it looked like things were going to go off without a hitch. Her plan to deceive Isaac went off beautifully. He didn’t have a clue. Jacob lied through his teeth at least three different times and Isaac wasn’t the wiser. In the end, he got Esau’s blessing just like Rebekah planned.
But then Esau came home.
Verse 36 now: “So he said, ‘Isn’t he rightly named Jacob? For he has cheated me twice now. He took my birthright, and look, now he has taken my blessing.’ Then he asked [his dad], ‘Haven’t you saved a blessing for me?’” Cheated twice. Once because Jacob was a conman and a scoundrel; once because his own mother conspired against him. How would you feel? Look down to v. 41: “Esau held a grudge against Jacob because of the blessing his father had given him. And Esau determined in his heart: ‘The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob.’” And you thought your family had its drama.
So then, what do we see going on here? Well, at a glance, this is two brothers who are radically different from one another fighting with each other, and mostly it’s Jacob finding more and more creative ways to swindle his brother out of parts of the family inheritance that should have been his by right. In other words, this story could have sat in for either of the last two sermons. But when you take a closer look here, it’s really hard to escape the reality of the parental favoritism that played into their drama. The fact is that Isaac and Rebekah played favorites with their kids. Friends, that’s always a dangerous game. In truth, it’s a game that nobody wins. When we play favorites, nobody wins.
Esau’s totally understandable grudge was passed on to his children and their children and their children on down the line of history. Eventually, his family became the nation of Edom who were one of Israel’s most bitter rivals throughout their history. It wasn’t always a violent rivalry (although it certainly was on occasion), but the bitterness to it ran deep. They celebrated Israel’s getting defeated by other nations and actively gave help and encouragement to those nations in their conquests of Israel. And Israel returned the favor with equal vigor. It was a bad situation. It was a bad situation that could potentially have been avoided if two parents had just not shown such obvious and blatant favoritism to their kids. When we play favorites, nobody wins.
Okay, but what do we actually do with all of this? Well, for starters, just don’t play favorites. Maybe that seems a bit too on the nose as far as advice goes, but sometimes on the nose is just what we need. If you are playing favorites with your kids, stop it. And, be honest enough with yourself to acknowledge that you are if that’s honestly the case. If you’re not sure, ask your spouse for her thoughts or his thoughts. This is a bit riskier endeavor, but ask your kids too. Like we said a bit ago: It’s an easy pattern to fall into. We don’t mean to, but there we are all the same. If you’ve drifted onto this path, walk back off of it. Apologize to the child who has been the victim of not being the favorite. Apologize to the one who has been shown favoritism. Make a concrete plan for how you are going to avoid that path in the future. When we play favorites, nobody wins.
Let me offer a caution here, though. Not playing favorites isn’t the same thing as saying that all children must be treated identically. They are not the same, so you can’t treat them all the same. When they are different ages, it’s okay to have growth milestones that they don’t hit at the same time. Their personalities are different (we talked about that a couple of weeks ago). This means that what works for one kid, may not work for another. So, don’t do the same thing for both of them. Showing favoritism, however, is different. It involves holding them to genuinely different standards and giving greater deference or opportunities to one versus another. It involves investing more in a relationship with one than another. This is an easy pattern to fall into, especially when our personality resonates more with one child than another. It takes real effort to invest equally in your relationship with the child with whose personality you don’t resonate naturally. Do it anyway. When we play favorites, nobody wins.
There’s one other side of things here that we cannot ignore. If you are the object of favoritism—or the collateral of its being shown to someone else—you didn’t have anything to do with that. That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t have any control over it. You were the victim in that. Being a victim, though, can’t serve as a justification for any amount of unrighteousness in our lives. This is especially true if you were the one who wasn’t favored. What you need to do is to forgive your parents for their favoritism. This doesn’t mean it was okay that it happened. It doesn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. It doesn’t mean that you don’t still need to recover from the wound. It only means that you are stepping down from God’s throne of judgment over their lives and letting Him do the job that was always His to do in the first place. You are releasing them from the debt they owe you because of the offense they have dealt you. When we play favorites, nobody wins, and in this case, you lost. The only way to begin recovering from that loss is to forgive.
If you don’t, that bitterness you feel is not going to go away. Time won’t heal that wound. It will instead eat you up inside and make sustaining healthy family relationships harder for you. This goes with the family members who showed the favoritism. It goes with your own family too. Until you forgive so that healing can begin to happen, whenever that hurt gets triggered by something, you’ll respond with an avalanche of emotion that seems wildly out of proportion to the actual situation, and which will leave the family members around you utterly bewildered by the explosion. You’ll do wounds to them by it for which they’ll eventually have to forgive you. What’s more, if you don’t extend that forgiveness at least in your heart, you’ll be more likely to play favorites yourself. Hurt people often hurt people, and in the same kinds of ways they were hurt. When we play favorites, nobody wins.
There’s an old religious cliche that says the ground at the foot of the cross is level. God loves each of His children the same. That doesn’t mean our outcomes are all the same. That doesn’t mean the path He has for us through this life is all the same. We are all created uniquely, and God treats us accordingly. But His love for us is consistent. The opportunities for relationship He extends to us are uniform. We all have the same access to Him in Christ. The same Spirit dwells in each of His children. That’s the model for us to follow. If we take any other path, confusion and chaos will inevitably be the result. When we play favorites, nobody wins. So, let’s commit in our families to living toward each other with the impartial love of God that sees each member becoming more each day who God made them to be. When we play favorites, nobody wins. Let’s play a game where everybody wins.