The scariest story in the Bible (it’s not what you think)

The scariest story in the Bible (it’s not what you think)

The Bible is not a book to gloss over or minimize the harsh realities of life, either in this world or in the next. There are stories about war, descriptions of sacrifice and sexuality, and many other things that make our modern sensibilities cringe. Even more, there are things that might terrify us.

So what is the worst of these? What’s the most frightening one of all? Which one should you leave out of children’s Bibles until they’re old enough to understand? Which one should pastors exercise the most caution and use it as a grave warning if they ever come across it in their sermons?

Well, I’ll tell you which one I think is the most frightening, but it’s not one that’s left out of children’s Bibles or Sunday sermons. In fact, even a first-grader can understand it. It’s the story of Esau.

Esau was the first born of the patriarch Isaac’s twin sons. As the firstborn, he had the birthright to be the heir of Isaac and the patriarch of God’s people. Few higher honors could ever be bestowed on someone. But one day, when he was coming in from the fields after a long and unsuccessful hunt, he encountered his younger twin brother Jacob. Genesis — records the brief conversation they had. It’s only a few verses that are very easy to gloss over, but it’s actually one of the most shocking conversations in the Bible. Here’s how it goes, from Genesis 25:29-34:

Once when Jacob was cooking some stew, Esau came in from the open country, famished. He said to Jacob, “Quick, let me have some of that red stew! I’m famished!” (That is why he was also called Edom.)

Jacob replied, “First sell me your birthright.”

“Look, I am about to die,” Esau said. “What good is the birthright to me?”

But Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore an oath to him, selling his birthright to Jacob.

Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank, and then got up and left.

So Esau despised his birthright.

What looks like a brief exchange between these two brothers is in fact a monumental and appalling decision made by Esau. Given the choice between being the patriarch of God’s people and being able to eat a single meal at his convenience, Esau chose the meal. He cared so little about the magnificent honor of being the patriarch of God’s people that he was willing to give it up for a single meal.

Well, those who know the story know where it went from there. Isaac was apparently unaware of or refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of this particular exchange, so when he was old and blind, Jacob tricked him into blessing him with the birthright instead. When Esau realized what had happened, he tearfully pleaded with his father to bless him as well — at least give him something. But Isaac said he couldn’t — it was too late.

So why is this such a terrifying story? Things actually didn’t turn out too terrible for Esau himself — he became very wealthy, a nation descended from him (albeit one inferior to Israel), and he and Jacob reconciled 20 years later. That’s not the scary part. The scary part is the way the writer of Hebrews applies it to us in Hebrews 12:15-17:

Be careful that no one falls short of the grace of God, so that no root of bitterness will spring up to cause trouble and defile many. See to it that no one is sexually immoral, or is godless like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. For you know that afterward, when he wanted to inherit the blessing, he was rejected. He could find no ground for repentance, though he sought the blessing with tears.

The book of Hebrews, by an anonymous author, is full of warnings about not falling away from Christ. This is one of them. Here he points to Esau’s story, how he rejected God’s gift for a piece of temporary satisfaction. What he says in verse 17 is most interesting, though: that Esau “could find no ground for repentance, though he sought the blessing with tears.”

We might assume this simply means it was too late for Esau to regain the birthright, because he’d already given it away. But then, why would the writer compare this to our relationship with Christ? Christ always forgives us if we repent. It’s never too late, not until we die. Right?

I think there’s something deeper going on here. The text says that Esau was “godless,” and at no point is that implied to have changed when he realized he’d lost the birthright. Think of how long Esau must have spent ignoring and pushing God away for him to get to the point where he could just reject his birthright. Once Esau made the decision to give God’s gift away for a minute of satisfaction, he had no place left in him for a desire for God. When he tearfully tried to “repent,” his tears weren’t from sorrow for his rejection of God. They were from sorrow over the loss of all the stuff that came with God’s gift. He wanted the blessings and the inheritance and the prosperity and the renown. But he didn’t want a relationship with God. He didn’t seem to even understand what God had to do with any of this. So no matter how hard he tried to repent, he had hardened his heart so much that he could find no ground for sincere repentance. He could find no desire for a relationship with God.

I think the writer of Hebrews is warning us that if we allow our relationship with God to deteriorate to the point where we would thoughtlessly give it up or deny it for a moment of satisfaction or pleasure, then we might come to the same place as Esau. It is possible to be sorry for our sins and want eternal life, but not want a relationship with God. It’s possible to want forgiveness without actually feeling sorry for our sins — only sorry for their consequences. It’s possible to want God to give us eternal life without the willingness to surrender our lives now. Many do. And it’s possible to, like Esau, get to the point where no matter how much we want to repent, we cannot repent, because we cannot find it in our hearts to truly be sorry for our sins or want a relationship with God.

That’s the scary part: that we could harden our hearts so much that we come to the point where no matter how hard we try, we not only don’t desire God, but we can’t desire God — at least, not for who he really is. We can become so attached to sin that we might not be able to find it in our hearts to completely give it up for a relationship with God.

Now, if you’re worried that this is you, it almost certainly isn’t. If you have any desire for a relationship with God — if you have any desire to be changed by God — then you haven’t come to the same point as Esau. But we need to watch out, that we don’t allow any sin or worldly pleasure to capture us so that we love it more than we love God. If that’s the case, then we are in danger of falling to the same place as Esau.

It’s vitally important to resist temptation. Sin is enticing, and it’s addicting. A Christian who is mired in a habit of sin that he or she repeatedly chooses over a loving relationship with God (even for a minute) is in a dangerous place. When you sin, do you make excuses for it? If you feel sorry, what do you feel sorry for? The consequences of the sin, or the offense and damage it caused to your relationship with God? Is a relationship with God secondary in your mind to all the other benefits of heaven? Do you avoid sin out of a fear of hell, and not a fear of damaging your relationship with God? Do you love God’s gifts more than you love God? If so, you might be on the path to Esau’s mindset.

To avoid this, it’s vitally important to make sure we experience our relationship with God to the fullest. If we only go through our duties on Sunday morning and don’t dive deeply into spending time with God in the Bible and prayer, it’s little surprise that the things in this world will occupy our attention and affection more than God. The desire for God isn’t going to always come naturally to us. We need to cultivate it. We need to spend time with him and with his people, enjoying the benefits of our relationship with him — not just the gifts he gives us.