"Bent Necks and a Better Brother"
#92-03Presented on The Lutheran Hour on September 15, 2024
By Rev. Dr. Michael Zeigler, Lutheran Hour Speaker
Copyright 2024 Lutheran Hour Ministries
No bonus material MP3
Text: Genesis 27:35-36
There's a small town in Bavaria, Germany, where the people were known as "bent necks." Their necks were bent because they spent so much time looking down to see which side you were on. The people in the town started taking sides shortly after World War II. They say the critical moment can be traced back to a night during the war in a bomb shelter. The shelter belonged to the Dassler family, an extended family consisting of mother and father Dassler, with their two grown sons, Rudolph and Adolf, who went by Rudi and Adi, along with their wives and children. When the air raids sirens sounded that night, Rudi and his family arrived first in the shelter. Now the story goes that soon after, Adi and his wife came into the shelter, and when he saw Rudi and his family there already, Adi made some derogatory comment, something like "Here are those dirty pigs again."
Now, it seemed obvious to everyone that Adi was directing his "dirty pigs" comment toward the bombers overhead. It seemed obvious to everyone except Rudi, his brother. Because Rudi was certain that Adi was speaking of him and his family, and he refused to see it any other way. From that night on, the lines were drawn. Up until then, Adi and Rudi had been business partners. They were shoemakers and somewhat famous. They had started the Dassler Brothers Sports Shoe Factory, and they had supplied track and field shoes for many of the German athletes in the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Adi even made shoes for the famous American athlete, Jesse Owens, who wore them during his gold medal performance. And so, their business had boomed.
But the brothers were different from each other. Adi was reserved and meticulous; Rudi was impulsive and boisterous. Adi was the craftsman who designed and made the shoes; Rudi was the front man who sold them. They could have been complementary partners, but neither could see things from the other's perspective. And they were both too shortsighted to see how their decisions would bend the necks of the people around them and the world around them. After the split, each brother formed his own rival shoe company, both based in the same small Bavarian town, but on opposite banks of the river. Now, Adi truly loved making shoes. But Rudi, I get the sense that his heart wasn't in it. He just started his business more out of spite for Adi.
Turns out, Adi named his shoe company with an abbreviated version of his name. Adi Dassler became Adi Das, Adidas®. And trying to copy his brother, Rudi called his company Ruda, and his buddies were like "Ruda? You can't be serious. How about Puma?" And so, he went with it. And so began the sneaker wars. Adidas versus Puma®, plus all the rest.
Barbara Smit, in her book, Sneaker Wars, explains how the brothers' rivalry exploded into a billion-dollar global enmity, with each brother and their rival companies backstabbing, double- crossing, outmaneuvering the other to court famous athletes like Pele and Joe Namath, Kareem and Muhammad Ali, with free shoes and envelopes thick with cash. Not only did these battling brothers co-create the cutthroat, absurdly overpaid world of sport we live in today, they deeply divided almost everyone around them.
When Adidas and Puma were most profitable, that Bavarian town that stood under their contentious shadow on opposite sides of the river had separate bakers, separate pubs, separate schools, depending on which company you supported. And that's how the town's residents became known as the bent necks. They were always looking down to see your shoes, to see which side you were on. And I wonder, how many of our conflicts in politics, business, church, are just old sibling rivalries writ large, Cain and Abel all over again? And maybe we stand under them with our necks bent, taking sides, failing to see things from our brother's or sister's perspective.
Like the story of the man standing on the river bank. A woman on the opposite side of the bank calls out to him: "How do I get to the other side of the river?" And he says, "You are on the other side of the river." Too often we do get stuck in our point of view, don't we? Maybe we are like those Bavarian folks with their sore necks. And maybe our shortsightedness stems from some ancient rift in the human family.
The Bible offers an account of this rift: Adam, Eve, Cain, and Abel. It's all there in the book of Genesis, an account of how our necks got bent, not just from looking down on our sisters and brothers, but from losing sight of God, our Creator, getting lost in the world, searching for some shelter. So, God starts over with Abraham. God tells Abraham, "Look up. Look to Me. I will be your shield, your shelter." And Abraham does, for a moment. He sees outside of himself with the eyes of faith, with trust in God's promise.
But life happened. Abraham's eyes fell down again, and sometimes all he could see was his own self-interest. But God stays with him. God stays true to his promise to be Abraham's shelter, to bless him, to be a shelter for everyone. The book of Genesis reveals a pattern and a plot. The pattern is this: we humans get in trouble whenever we take our eyes off God and when we look to our own concerns. Instead, we see rivals. People trying to use us, cheat us or trick us, or else people we can use or trick or cheat. And the plot turns on a blessing that will break this pattern, a blessing from God, which is also a mission from God, for God's people to be a blessing, to embody God's shelter, to heal the rift in the human family, to help us all unbend our necks and look up.
This blessing passes from Abraham to his son Isaac, and then to Jacob. Now, it seems that it should have gone to Esau, Jacob's twin brother, since Esau technically came out first. Although from the womb, Jacob had Esau by the heel, which is how he got his name. Jacob means "heel- grabber." Esau was first, but he sold his right as the firstborn to Jacob. And whether selling birthrights was something that people did, or Jacob just made it up on the spot, the fact that Esau did it shows how little he cared about their family's business of being a blessing—because Esau sold it for a bowl of soup, and he swore an oath to Jacob that he could have it. But when the day came, Isaac, their father, wanted to have it his way. Even though Esau's heart wasn't in it, Isaac tries to pass the blessing onto him, nonetheless.
And Isaac's motives don't come off looking so laudable. He seems to be motivated less by fairness or faith and more by food. Everything for Isaac seems to boil down to food, and you get the sense that he doesn't see at all what this blessing is about. And Rebecca, his wife, when she hears about this plan, she tries to rectify the situation, to secure the blessing for Jacob instead. She doesn't seem to understand the blessing any better than Isaac, because the blessing that God gives is a blessing to heal the family; and Rebecca's plan will tear her family apart, leaving Esau hell-bent on vengeance and Jacob sore with nightmares, 20 years later.
Listen to how it goes in these excerpts from Genesis 27:
Now, it happened when Isaac was an old man and his eyes were so dim, he was so shortsighted he could no longer see. He called Esau, his older son, and said to him, "My son!" And he answered, "Here I am." And Isaac said, "Look, I am an old man, and I do not know the day of my death. But now, take your weapons, your quiver, and your bow and go out to the open country and hunt some wild game for me, and make me some tasty food such as I love. And bring it and I will eat it so that I may give you my blessing before I die."
Now Rebecca, his wife, was listening. And she spoke to Jacob, her son, saying, "Look, I heard your father speak to your brother Esau saying, 'Bring me some game and make me some tasty food, and I will eat it and bless you in the presence of the Lord before I die.' Now, my son, you listen to me and I will tell you what to do. Go to the flock and fetch me two young goats, good ones, and I will make some tasty food for your father such as he loves, and you will bring it to your father so that he may eat it and bless you before he dies." But Jacob said to Rebecca, his mother, "Look, my brother Esau is a hairy man and I have smooth skin. Suppose my father touches me and I will appear to be mocking him, and I will bring down a curse on myself, not a blessing."
His mother said to him, "Let your curse fall on me, my son. You listen to my voice. Now go, fetch me those goats." So he went, and he took them and he brought them to his mother, and she made from them some tasty foods such as his father loves. And Rebecca took the best garments of Esau, her older son, which were with her in the house, and she put them on her younger son, Jacob. And the skins of the young goats, she put on his hands and on the smooth part of his neck. Then she put the tasty food and the bread, which she had prepared, into the hand of her son Jacob.
So, he went to his father and he said to him, "My father." And he answered, "Here I am. Who are you, my son?" Jacob said to his father, "I am Esau, you're firstborn. I've done what you've told me. Now sit up please and eat some of my wild game so that you may bless me." But Isaac said to his son, "How is it that you have found it so quickly, my son?" And he answered, "Because the Lord your God has brought it to me." And Isaac said to Jacob, "Please come near me so that I may feel you, my son, to know whether you really are my son Esau, or not." Jacob went to Isaac his father, who felt him and said, "The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau." And he didn't recognize him because his hands were hairy like Esau's. But he said, "Are you really my son, Esau?" "I am," he answered. Then Isaac said, "Bring it to me so that I may eat some of my son's game and bless you." So he brought it near to him and he ate, and he brought him wine and he drank. Then Isaac said, "Come near and kiss me, my son." So he came near and kissed him. And when Isaac caught the smell of his garments, he blessed him and said, "The smell of my son is like the smell of an open field. The Lord is blessed. May God give you the dew of heaven and the richness of the earth, an abundance of grain and wine. Let people serve you and nations bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers and let the sons of your mother bow down to you. Cursed be everyone who curses you and blessed be everyone who blesses you."
And it happened. As soon as Isaac had finished blessing Jacob, and scarcely had Jacob gone out of the presence of his father Isaac, Esau his brother came in from hunting. He also made some tasty food and brought it to his father and said, "Let my father arise and eat some of his son's game so that you may give me your blessing." And his father Isaac said to him, "Who are you?" He answered, "I'm your son, your firstborn, Esau." And Isaac trembled violently and said, "Who was it then that hunted, came, and brought it to me, and I ate all of it before you came and blessed him? And indeed, he will be blessed." As soon as Esau heard the words of his father, he burst out with a loud and bitter cry and said to his father, "Bless me too, my father! Bless me too!"
But he said, "Oh, your brother came deceitfully and has taken away your blessing." And Esau said, "Is he not rightly called Jacob...Heel Grabber? He has cheated me these two times! He took away my birthright, and now he has taken away my blessing!" And he said, "Haven't you reserved any blessing for me, my father?" And Isaac answered and said to Esau, "Behold, I have made him lord over you and have made always his relatives his servants, and I have sustained him with grain and wine. What then can I do for you, my son?" And Esau said to his father, "Do you have but one blessing, my father? Bless me, too."
And Esau lifted up his voice and wept. Now, Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him. And Esau said to himself, "The days of mourning my father's death are approaching, and I will kill my brother Jacob." Rebecca heard and she said to Jacob, "Look, your brother Esau is comforting himself with the thought of killing you. So now, my son, you listen to my voice. Arise and flee to Laban, my brother in Haran, and stay with him for some days until your brother's anger turns away from you, and he forgets what you did to him. And I'll send for you. I'll bring you back from there. Why should I lose both of you in one day?"
Then Rebecca said to Isaac, "I loathe my life because of these Hittite women. If Jacob marries one of these Hittite women like Esau did, how could I go on living?" So Isaac sent Jacob away to Rebecca's brother, for him to find a wife from his uncle's household.
The book of Genesis is no fairy tale. It depicts real people—people like us, with half-truths, crooked ways, and sore necks, but also the God who created us and bears with us because He loves us. Genesis sets the stage and the tone for everything to come in the rest of the Bible, how we came under this rift in the human family and what God promises to do about it. God promised a blessing to break the pattern, but no one in Genesis really gets it. Because this blessing isn't a way to get ahead or to get even. It's not just about having lots of food and wine and servants. It's not an idea or a theory or a philosophy. The blessing is a burden and a responsibility that none of them can carry. Only God can bear it.
So, God Himself came. God's Son was born among them, for them, for us. He took the Name Jesus to save us. That's what His Name means, you know. Not heel-grabber. Savior. Jesus' burden was to show us what our shortsighted rivalries will get us: division, despair, separation from God, hell. That's what Jesus suffered on the cross for us. Our curse fell on Him, and He carried the whole human family with Him through it, hidden in the shelter of His body. The Lord of all became the Servant of all. And He rose from the dead to be our Brother, a better Brother, one we can trust, who has the heart to lead us in this business, blessing the nations.
It's said that Rudi and Adi Dassler rarely, if ever, talked again after their rift. But there was a chaplain, a Christian pastor, who 30 years later labored to bring them together when he was ministering to Rudi at his bedside. Rudi was on his back, restless, sore, dying, and the chaplain, in addition to offering Rudi forgiveness (and) new life in Jesus, the chaplain called up Adi, Rudi's brother. Now, I'm told that it didn't lead to any tearful embrace. Even though they lived in the same town, Adi didn't even bother to cross the river to embrace his brother on his deathbed. But he did convey his forgiveness over the phone. And whether any of this was heartfelt and brought true healing, we won't know until the dead rise up on the Day of Judgment.
But what we do know now is what that chaplain knew, that servant of God who refused to fall in line and pick sides with all the other bent necks. Because he knew Jesus, our Brother. Jesus lifts up our eyes, my eyes, your eyes, to see the person in front of you and beside you. Is she different than you? Does he see things differently? Yeah. Is he sometimes your rival? Is she your opponent, your enemy? Maybe so. But look up higher and see the Brother who died for them and rose for them. Look again and see that under God, we're all on the same side. Just a world full of sinners with sore necks who need a shelter. Amen? In the Name of Jesus. Amen.
Reflections for September 15, 2024
Title: Bent Necks and a Better Brother
No QA segment this week
Music Selections for this program:
"A Mighty Fortress" arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.
"Praise the One Who Breaks the Darkness" arr. Barry L. Bobb. FromHymns for All Saints: Psalms, Hymns, Spiritual Songs (© 2011 Concordia Publishing House) Used by permission.
"Crucifer" by Sydney H. Nicholson, arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.
