A few millenia ago, Social Services was called in to mediate a domestic incident, but it didn’t work out. Here’s how it went down:
Jacob, the brainy one, lived by his wits and cerebral efforts. He was a mama’s boy. Esau, the visceral one, lived by his strength and prowess. Daddy was so proud of him. When the younger Jacob obtained, by deceit, Father Isaac’s blessing–a heritage customarily given to the older son, discord ripped the family apart.
These are the words that Isaac had spoken over Jacob, believing that he addressed his older son Esau:
“Now may God give you of the dew of heaven,
and the fatness of the earth,
and an abundance of new wine;
May peoples serve you,
and nations bow down to you.
Cursed be those who curse you,
and blessed be those who bless you.”
When Esau discovered his brother’s trickery, he got mad. He beseeched his father to undo the blessing that had been inappropriately bestowed, but Isaac would not, and believed he could not.
Don’t ask me why. It was apparently some archaic principle relating to the power of patriarchal pronouncements. After this incident, as if things were not bad enough on the home front already, Isaac turned to Esau and said:
“Behold, away from the fertility of the earth shall be your dwelling,
and away from the dew of heaven from above.
By your sword you shall live,
and your brother you shall serve;
But it shall come about when you become restless–that you will break his yoke from your neck.”
I don’t know how or why. But such is the history of the world, and I suppose, why George wrote while my guitar gently weeps.
Read ’em and weep. You too, Rachel, even as you weep for the children.