Isaac, the son of Abraham, married Rebekah. They tried and tried to get her pregnant, but they kept failing. As fun as it may have been to try to muster up some life in her uteri, they eventually had to admit: Rebekah was barren.
So, as any good follower of God would do, Isaac prayed. He squeezed his eyes shut and said, “Dear God, can you please help me impregnate my wife? You see, her uter—i? Uteruses? Whatever. They’re expired. Please put some good babies in there. Preferably boys.”
God said, “Okay.”
Soon, Rebekah could feel the babies inside her. It felt like they were wrestling—or trying to dance disco, which was way worse. She groaned, “Why God? Why are these babies doing the shuffle inside of me?”
God said, “There are two people in there fighting a metaphorical war. So, yeah, that probably hurts, now that I think about it. Oops. Anyway, when they come out, one will be stronger. The older one will serve the younger.”
After months of grueling pain, Rebekah was finally in labor. She was screaming like a madwoman and Isaac stood by her side saying, “Honey? You want some ice chips? Oh wait, this is the Middle East, we don’t have ice.”
Finally, a baby popped out of her and she gasped at the sight. He was red and his whole body was like a fur coat. He looked like a mini bigfoot. Isaac took him in his arms and said, “He’s so cute! Like a stuffed animal. Let’s name him Esau. By the way, can we have stuffed goat for dinner tonight?” Esau means hairy in Hebrew, and thus we have the first Hairy in history, way before Harry Potter or Harry Styles.
Just after Esau was out, Rebekah saw the next baby’s hand grasping Esau’s heel. It must have been an odd sight to witness coming out of your nether regions. She took the younger baby in her arms and said, “He grasps the heel. Let’s just name him the Hebrew word for that: Jacob. We’re so creative… and kind of ominous because it also means ‘he deceives.’ Oh well, that probably won’t foreshadow anything.”
As the two boys grew up, they became even more different. Esau was your average nature guy. He was a bow and arrow enthusiast and was always wearing camo— in addition to his hair. He didn’t even need to wear clothes because he was so hairy, but he did it anyway. Sometimes. Isaac loved him— almost as much as he loved the lamb chops he brought home from a hunt.
Jacob was a homebody, who would spend most of his time observing others and learning. He rarely spoke, unless he had something of value to say. He knew he was smarter than Esau, but he could never say it or act like it because Esau was older by two seconds and had the birthright, as he always boasted. Jacob respected the birthright. Rebekah loved Jacob, maybe because he reminded her of herself.
One day, Jacob was stirring a boiling pot of stew. He threw in red spices and chopped vegetables, letting the scent of meat and lentils waft into his nose and out of the home. Like a bat signal, it beckoned Esau to come running through the doors, dropping all his hunting tools and throwing off his few clothes. “Gimme some stew! Fast, I’m starving!”
“Well, that was a dramatic entrance,” Jacob muttered. “Come on, Jacob, what are you waiting for? I want stew! I’ve been working all day.”
Jacob thought for a moment and said, “Alright, man. But only if you give me your birthright.”
“What? Dude, you’re crazy. Here I am, dying of hunger, and you’re trying to make a deal. Why do you even want my entire inheritance and status as the alpha? Actually, I can see why you would want that. But the stew looks so yummy.”
Jacob patiently nodded his head. “It is. So, sell your birthright to me. Right now.”
Esau chuckled and lifted his right hand. “I swear to you, my birthright is now yours. Okay, gimme some stew.” Jacob grinned and handed Esau a bowl of hot stew and some bread. Esau gobbled it all up and burped. After digesting the food and realizing what he had done for a few minutes, he said, “Oh crap, did I just sell you my birthright for some stew?”
“Yup,” Jacob said.
Later, Isaac and his family were pushed out of their homes by people who were jealous of their riches (probably the 99 percenters). They settled in Shiba, meaning seven (proof that you should bet seven when playing Roulette).
Isaac was old now and his eyes were not what they used to be, as he liked to complain about. Ben Franklin had not invented bifocals yet, so Isaac had to depend on his other senses, which weren’t so great either (although no one had the nerve to tell him that). He said to Esau, “Boy, I’m probably gonna die soon, just a heads up. So, I want you to go out to the forest, kill some animals, turn them into a delicious stew, and watch me eat it. Then, I will happily give you my blessing. You need it, especially since that darn brother of yours stole your birthright.”
“Yes, he did steal it from me! I totally didn’t give it away, nuh-uh, I’m much too smart for that to happen. Okay, I’m gonna go hunt now. Please don’t die yet.”
Little did they know, sneaky Rebekah was listening in on their conversation. She wanted her favorite son, Jacob the Mama’s boy, to get the blessing. She ran to him. “Hey, sweetheart. I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything but I overheard your dad tell Esau he would give him a blessing. Now, go to our flock and get the juiciest, yummiest looking goats you can find and I’ll chop them up and make them into a stew, then give it to Isaac.”
Jacob said, “But Mooom. Have you seen how hairy Esau is? And look how silky smooth my skin is! Dad will never be fooled. In fact, he would probably curse me for tricking him.”
Rebekah said, “Just do it! I’m your mother. I’ll take the curse if we fail.”
Jacob thought to himself, “Win-win for me. Woohoo!”
He followed Rebekah’s instructions until he had a nice, big, mouth-watering pot of goat stew in his arms. Stew was his weapon of choice. She dressed him in Esau’s clothes (the only benefit of always having to do the laundry was to be able to pull off a grand blessing heist like this). She took goatskin and covered Jacob with it.
Jacob brought the stew to Isaac, adjusting his skins. “Hi, dad!”
“Oh. Jacob, is that you?” Isaac said, hearing Jacob’s high pitched voice.
Jacob coughed and pounded his chest. He let out a deep throaty voice, “Hi, father. It’s me, Esau. You know, your first born. The hairy one. I did what you asked. Here is the stew.”
Isaac said, “Wait, what? I just asked you, like, five minutes ago. How did you get it already?”
It had really been a couple of hours, but rather than tell Isaac he was wrong, Jacob said, “Uh, God helped me.”
That sounded normal to Isaac, but he was still suspicious. “Okay. Get your butt over here so I can feel you.” Jacob stepped up to him and Isaac stroked his hand for a full minute. “Well, your voice sounds like Jacob attempting to do a really lame impression of Esau. But you are hairy. Very hairy. You’re totally Esau. Right?”
“Yeah, totally.” Jacob gave Isaac the stew. Isaac gulped wine and inhaled the stew until there was nothing left. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and burped, bearing a striking resemblance to Esau.
Isaac said, “Lay one on me, son.”
“Huh?”
“A kiss.”
“Oh.” Jacob puckered up and put a sloppy kiss on Isaac’s forehead. Isaac caught the scent of Esau from his clothes. He was sure this was his favorite son.
Isaac blessed him. “Oh, Esau, you smell like a field—”
“But Dad, we all smell like fields. We work in them for twelve hours a day.”
“Quiet, son, I’m trying to bless you. As I was saying: May God give you heaven and earth, grain and wine! May nations and people bow to you! May your brothers bow to you! People who curse you are cursed and people who bless you are blessed!”
“Wow, thanks da—” Jacob said in his normal voice. He lowered it. “Achem, wow thanks, dad. I’m gonna go, uh, comb my arm now.”
A few hours later, Esau showed up with a pot of stew. “Hey, dad! It’s me. I come bearing stew.”
Isaac narrowed his eyes. “Uh, who the heck are you?”
“You’re kidding, right dad? It’s me, your son. Your firstborn. Your favorite. ESAU!”
Isaac looked back and forth from where Esau was standing and where Jacob had left. His jaw dropped open. “But, but… If you’re Esau, then who was in here five minutes ago?”
Esau interrupted him. “Dad, it’s been two hours.”
“Don’t you correct my on-point sense of time! My brain is better than a Rolex—how dare you? Even if you were my favorite son, I wouldn’t give you a blessing now. And if you’re Esau, who just gave me the best stew I’ve ever had in my life, five stars? Who did I just give a super fancy blessing to? Jacob?”
Esau stomped his feet and made the best puppy dog eyes he could. He shrieked, “Give me a blessing too, daddy! I want my blessing! Gimme!”
“No. Your brother took it. I gave my blessing and now it is gone.”
“That’s not fair! Mom gave him the right name: deceit. His pants are so on fire. He took my birthright and my blessing. All with some stinkin’, but admittedly delicious stew. Don’t you have, I don’t know, an extra blessing?”
Isaac sighed deeply. “Son, I literally made Jacob your supreme lord and now you and the whole family are servants to him. I gave him a bunch of wine and grain. There isn’t really anything else I can give you.”
Esau stomped his feet again and pouted. A single tear dramatically rolled down his cheek, although nobody could see it through the hair. “I want a blessing! I want a blessing!”
Finally, Isaac said, “You will not have heaven and earth, nor grain and wine. You will bow to your brother. But you will grow to throw off Jacob’s yoke and be free.”
Esau rolled his eyes. “Dad, that blessing was so confusing and I’m pretty sure you just said I wasn’t going to get stuff. This really sucks. I wanted the goats and I wanted to be Jacob’s boss. I’m so mad at him… but I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault that he’s so clever and evil. That jerk gets even the best of us sometimes. And, dad?”
“Yes, my son?” Isaac readied himself for a sweet comment, like a little fathers day card, or something.
Esau’s face stiffened. “I’m gonna kill Jacob.”
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