We like to think of people in simple terms: villains and heroes. Good guys and bad guys. But people rarely make it that easy to categorize them. First impressions will guide you, but once you get to know people, contradictions arise. One of my favorite villains is a character in THE MAN IN THE HIGH CASTLE. Initially, he is an evil Nazi leader, wielding a tremendous amount of power. He tortures and kills without regret. But then his son develops a disease that makes him, in the eyes of the Nazi regime, a defective, a “useless eater.” Suddenly this powerful Nazi officer has to confront the horrors of the Socialist party he serves—and viewers discover that this evil man loves his son, loves his family, and carries secret regrets and questions. Almost immediately, the evil Nazi officer becomes a sympathetic character, and his story becomes more interesting. Why is it interesting? Because of growth. The characters—even ostensibly purely evil characters—have to grow. The book-turned-TV-series is like that: several of the most evil characters eventually become if not entirely sympathetic, at least much more human. They GROW. It is fascinating.
The Bible often shows both sides of the people within its pages. Why? Because these people GROW. King David is the greatest king Israel would ever know, a genius on the battlefield, and a worshipper who wrote half the lyrics in the book of Psalms—and it is hard to imagine a person in the Bible who failed worse than he did. But after his colossal failure, David grows.
And consider Esau, the brother of Jacob. We often dismiss Esau. The author of Hebrews condemns him, warning us not to be “unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal” Hebrews 12:16. But there is more to the story. Esau certainly acted rashly on the day he sold his birthright to his always-scheming brother. But it was Jacob who later dressed as Esau and deceived their father Isaac so that Jacob could add Esau’s blessing to the stolen birthright. (Maybe it’s the older brother in me, but I think Jacob’s was the greater sin.) This time Esau recognized the gravity of what was taken from him and quietly vowed to kill Jacob, a promise which sent the heel-grabber running for his life. (Significantly, there is no record Esau ever acted on his threat.)
Years later, God told Jacob it was time to go home. He set out with his huge family and thousands of animals, and almost immediately was told that Esau was coming to meet him with 400 men. Four hundred men? That’s a battalion! Esau was ready for war. Jacob set aside hundreds of sheep, goats, and camels, and put them in the front of the caravan as a gift to his estranged twin brother. Then he spread out his belongings and his wives and children, hoping Esau might have a change of heart and not kill everyone.
“Now Jacob lifted his eyes and looked, and there Esau was coming, and with him were four hundred men. So he divided the children among Leah, Rachel, and the two maidservants. And he put the maidservants and their children in front, Leah and her children behind, and Rachel and Joseph last. [Benjamin was not yet born.] Then he crossed over before them and bowed himself to the ground seven times, until he came near to his brother. But Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept” Genesis 33:1-4.
Then after Esau met Jacob’s wives and children, he asked about the caravan of herds.
“‘What do you mean by all this company which I met?’
And he said, ‘These are to find favor in the sight of my lord.’
But Esau said, ‘I have enough, my brother. Keep what you have for yourself’” Genesis 33:8-9.
Is this the same man who swore to kill Jacob as soon as their father Isaac was dead, see Genesis 27:41? Is this the same unholy man who “despised his birthright”?
I think not. Esau has changed. If he were after revenge, he clearly has the manpower to take it with his 400-man army. If he were after the riches of his lost inheritance, he would not have turned down Jacob’s gift of herds and herds of animals. But all of that is gone. Gone is the selfishness, the bitterness, the vow for revenge. Gone is the lazy desire for easy money, the lack of perspective that would value a bowl of soup as much as an inheritance. Esau has grown up and acquired wisdom.
Look again at the way he greets Jacob:
“But Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept” Genesis 33:4.
That reminds me of another Bible passage:
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him” Luke 15:20.
Jesus, the Master Teacher and storyteller, created the parable of the Prodigal Son. And, like any great writer, He wove familiar elements into the new tale, some of them seemingly taken from the story of Jacob and Esau: two rich brothers fight over an inheritance, both display childishness and selfishness, but the story is resolved with forgiveness, reconciliation, and love. Jesus’s audience would have known the story of Jacob and Esau so well, that I believe they would have recognized the tune as Jesus wove familiar notes into a new song.
Many find it easy to dismiss Esau for his one act of supreme short-sightedness. But he deserves another chance. This is a man who forgave a tremendous violation, who embraced the brother he once planned to murder. Esau embraced him and the two men wept. That makes Esau a hero in my book. Not a simple man. Not a perfect man. But a man who overcame some youthful failures to become a better person. Esau grew. Esau learned how to forgive. Because he did so, his life not only reminds us of the father in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, but also of our Father in Heaven whom the prodigal’s father symbolizes.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the Sons of God” Matthew 5:9.
AΩ.

