Concerning Edom, the Lord of heavenly forces proclaims:
Is wisdom no longer in Teman?
    Has good sense vanished from the perceptive?
        Are they no longer wise?
Turn, flee, and run for cover,
    you inhabitants of Dedan.
I’m bringing disaster on Esau:
    its day of reckoning.
If workers would come to you to pick grapes,
    they would at least leave a few on the vine.
If thieves would come in the night,
    they would take only what they needed.
But me? I will strip Esau bare.
    I will expose his hiding places,
        and he will find no place to take cover.
His offspring, family, and acquaintances will perish,
    and there will be no one left to say,
“Leave me your orphans,
    and I’ll look after them;
        trust your widows into my care.” (Common English Bible)

You might be saying to yourself, “What in tarnation is this crazy fool doing, having a Bible lesson on this here piece of Scripture that means nothing to you nor me?” Oh, really? To which I say, “What darned fool never gets into the backwoods of the prophets?”

Esau was the twin brother of Jacob, a real mountain man sort of guy. Being outdoors and hunting game was his thing. His descendants were the Edomites. They inhabited the southwest portion of what is now the country of Jordan, and the southeastern portion of Israel and Palestine in the middle east. It’s a territory made up of a network of clefts and caves in the rocks.

Edom tended to think of themselves as being invulnerable, the man’s man. They always had the high ground and knew how to handle themselves in the wilderness. For anyone interested in taking the Edomites down, it would be very difficult to dislodge them from their rocky fortress home. Yet, there is no place that is not vulnerable to the eye and purpose of Yahweh.

Just as there was bad blood between Jacob and Esau, so also the Israelites and Edomites did not like each other throughout their history. Edom had no intention of helping their ancestral brother, and even participated with the Babylonians in the conquest of Jerusalem. What’s more, they rejoiced over the fall of the city – all of which raised the eyebrow of God.

Lord, remember what the Edomites did
        on Jerusalem’s dark day:
    “Rip it down, rip it down!
    All the way to its foundations!” they yelled. (Psalm 137:7, CEB)

Turns out that the Lord listened to the psalmist and remembered. The destruction of Edom came about because of two overlapping sins: the profound lack of hospitality; and the overt participation of doing harm. To refuse hospitality is to put someone or a group of people in harm’s way. It also betrays an attitude that works out in eventually becoming an agent of harm to those they could have helped.

In this vein, Edom is much more akin to Sodom and Gomorrah than to its brother Israel.

“Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49, NIV)

When the ancient Israelites, after having been delivered by God from Egyptian bondage, and traveling in the wilderness, came upon Edom, they made a request of their brother:

“Please let us cross through your land. We won’t pass through any field or vineyard, or drink water from any well. We will walk on the King’s Highway and not turn to the right or to the left until we have crossed your border.”

Edom said to him, “You won’t cross through, or I will come out against you with a sword.” (Numbers 20:17-18, CEB)

It does no one any good to refuse offering hospitality to others. Both the one in need, and the one being inhospitable, find themselves in dire straits. The reason the Lord cares so much about this is that God, at the core, is hospitable – loving the stranger and granting aid to the alien.

Jesus, upholding this long tradition of divine caring and prophetic utterance, had this to say to those who were indifferent:

“Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.”

They also will answer, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?”

He will reply, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”

Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life. (Matthew 25:41-46, NIV)

It is high time that we, as a contemporary people, take the Old Testament prophets seriously, and adopt the divine heart for the alien, the stranger, the fatherless, the widow, and all who find themselves unable to meet their own basic needs.

And when a refusal of hospitality happens on a national scale, the people of that nation will discover themselves a bygone country – much like Edom and the Edomites of old.

Whenever the national zeitgeist translates into draconian tactics for keeping “those other people” at a distance and say to them, “get out of our country,” without any hospitality, that nation has come under the eye of a holy God who has a zero tolerance policy toward base unkindness and purposeful callousness.

So, we ought to have the fear of God when we believe we have a moral right to exclude immigrants because they may potentially harm citizens by taking away jobs, reducing wages, and draining social services. This line of reasoning is not consistent with the way of Christ.

I, for one, believe we have failed to live up to the moral universalism we pretend lies at the heart of the United States’ theories and political philosophies; and we have not been willing to accept the radical changes needed to accommodate even a modest notion of hospitality for those who have been the targets for hate crimes based upon their race, ethnicity, ancestry, religion, and gender.

The age old sin of this world is that the wealthy and the privileged, although giving out of their largess, have no intention of sharing power and would never think of following the example of the poor widow who gave everything she had.

So, God said of the Edomites, “I will ‘Edom’ up!” And like the wild game their ancestor Esau killed and ate, they were gone. Turns out that hospitality is really a matter of life and death.

Lord Jesus, you welcomed all who came into your presence. May we reflect that same spirit through the value of hospitality. May your light shine in our hearts this day and dispel the darkness of hate and bigotry. Remove from us anything that stands in the way of radiating your presence. Amen.