Compromise, Melodrama, and the Importance of Meal Prep

I have a confession to make: I am the last person on the internet you want to talk to you about meal prep.

When people talk about “meal prep”, that could be a reference to the general process of planning and preparing meals for a day or week or whatever. Meal prep can also refer more specifically to preparing healthy meals ahead of time, so that you don’t spend all day every day cutting vegetables and planning the next meal.

If you have any healthy friends, any friends on any sort of diet, you’ve probably heard them talk about their meal prep. Maybe they make their lunches and dinners the night before so they can live their hectic lives without stopping for an hour to cook a healthy meal. Maybe they cut all their produce immediately after getting home from the grocery store, so they have healthy snacks on hand.

As of right now, I do none of these things.

I’ve been meaning to eat healthier, but I’ve also been meaning to stop procrastinating. I am planning to make a start on some of these changes this week (so, if you come across this blog post later than Monday, September 16th, 2019, feel free to ask me about how that’s going). Though I might not go full into straight-up meal prep, I’ve come to understand that nutrition is something I need to be intentional about, it’s not going to happen on accident, and it’s going to take consistent proactivity.

But I digress. This post isn’t actually about nutrition. Nutrition got my mind started in thinking about the subject as I’ve already been thinking about my own bad nutritional habits. The topic also came up at church yesterday while my dad (the Pastor) spoke about fasting. He briefly mentioned the story of Jacob and Esau, and over the last twenty-four hours or so, I’ve been thinking more about that biblical account.

Though you can apply it to nutritional habits, the story is deeper than physical health. It reveals two deeper spiritual issues—the malady of melodrama and the carcinogen of compromise.

The Story

Let break it down for you.

Jacob and Esau appear in the book of Genesis, the first book in both the Christian bible and the jewish bible. It’s the first book of the Torah, which are the five books of Moses. Genesis tells the story of how God created the world, how man sinned in the Garden of Eden, and how humans survived the aftermath of that fall for over a dozen generations.

Some time after the Garden of Eden incident and after the awkward Noah-and-the-flood situation, a few generations later we get Abraham. God made a covenant with Abraham, promising to multiply his descendants and use his seed to bless the nations. As an old man, Abraham had two sons, one named Ishmael, and one named Isaac. There’s a lot more to the story than that, but it’s not really relevant to this post, so I’ll let you check out the book of Genesis on your own time.

Now Isaac, son of Abraham, had two sons: Jacob and Esau. Eventually, Jacob would have twelve sons and his name would be changed to Israel, and his sons became the Twelve Tribes of Israel and just before Exodus, they end up in Egypt. But before we had the Israelites, the people of Israel, we had the person of Jacob.

Twins

Jacob and Esau were twins. Esau was born first, and he was red and hairy—likely the manliest baby in history. While Esau was exiting his mother’s body, little baby Jacob was holding Esau’s heel, which had a cultural significance and symbolism that led to Jacob being named Jacob, which meant “heel-grabber” or deceiver.

In this ancient culture, baby names were given prophetic significance, so from birth Jacob was declared to be a deceiver and Esau was declared to be a ginger (okay, not really a ginger—I’m pretty sure Esau has a soul—but the Bible says he was red and hairy, so we can’t be sure if he actually had red hair). Esau was his father’s favorite (and the firstborn who would get the firstborn’s inheritance) and Jacob was his mother’s favorite, and as a twin myself I can only imagine how awkward that family dynamic might’ve been.

Now, later into their story, we see Jacob living up to his name, and at the urging of his mother, he tricks his father into giving him the firstborn’s blessing. Esau is devastated, and like true angry sibling, he threatens to kill Jacob and they don’t make amends for several years later.

But everything I just told you is background information.

The part of the story I want to bring into focus today is a seemingly small, eight-verse vignette, after they grew up but before their father was about to die and give his blessing.

Genesis 25:27-34 (HCSB):

When the boys grew up, Esau became an expert hunter, an outdoorsman, but Jacob was a quiet man who stayed at home. Isaac loved Esau because he had a taste for wild game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.

Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field exhausted. He said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, because I’m exhausted.” That is why he was also named Edom.

Jacob replied, “First sell me your birthright.”

“Look,” said Esau, “I’m about to die, so what good is a birthright to me?”

Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to Jacob and sold his birthright to him. Then Jacob gave bread and lentil stew to Esau; he ate, drank, got up, and went away. So Esau despised his birthright.

Esau, the hunter, the hairy, manly man, was tricked by his annoying twin brother who knew how to cook. But it wasn’t really a trick, was it? Jacob was very honest about his intentions.

“First, sell me your birthright.”

Though you can blame Jacob for how he tricks Isaac a couple chapters later, in this instance with the birthright we can only blame Esau.

Esau was the firstborn! The birthright was his. Yes, there was a prophetic word before he was born that “the older would serve the younger”, but Isaac, the father, the man with the inheritance to give away, ignored that prophetic word. Isaac, a normal father within this ancient middle-eastern cultural framework, was prepared to do things according to tradition. Esau was Isaac’s favorite. There’s no reason Jacob should’ve been able to get Esau’s birthright, but Esau, a strong hunter with a moment of weakness, traded his birthright for a bowl of stew.

This all could’ve been avoided if Esau had been a meal-prepper.

Esau’s Problems

Esau had two problems that led to his obviously stupid choice to sell his birthright.

One, he was melodramatic, and allowed his intense feelings to drive his decisions.

Two, he was willing to compromise for instant gratification.

That compromise destroyed his legacy and jeopardized his social status. That single moment changed his life, all because his hunger burned more strongly than his common-sense reasoning faculties.

Esau wasn’t actually starving. He just had a long day at work, and decided fast food was more convenient than cooking something himself. Esau was weak, and Jacob capitalized on that weakness.

The Application

Because he’s one of the Patriarchs and becomes Israel, the Israel that Israel is named after, I think it’s pretty common for Christians, myself included, to think about the story from Jacob’s perspective. Because we know what he becomes, he’s kind of the hero in our mind, even when he does something shady. (We do this with characters all the time. It’s easy to idealize Samson when he did literally nothing right, except for in the last five minutes of his life.)

But today, let’s think from Esau’s perspective. Let’s let Esau be our cautionary tale.

Have you found yourself in a moment of compromise?

If I’m honest with myself, I’ve compromised and done things that make me pause and ask, “Why am I so stupid?”

Of course, it doesn’t feel stupid at the time. Compromise is a sneaky monster, a snake that strikes your psyche when you’re mentally weakest. Or maybe the option’s always there, but it doesn’t tempt us strongly until we’re weak.

Compromise lies, saying, “Hey, I’m the only way out. You might as well go my way. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck where you’re at forever.”

I’m keeping this intentionally vague because such compromise can be almost anything. It can be standards in romantic relationships, it can be eating 3,000 calories at 1:00AM because all the healthy restaurants are closed, it can be breaking a promise because you know keeping your word would cause hours of inconvenience.

Unless you’re a terrible person, nobody sets out to compromise. I don’t know about you, but I always see myself as saying, “Ha! I’d never do that! That’s stupid.” I think all of us at one point or another have said those very words only to find yourself in the middle of a stupid thing you told yourself you were too smart to fall for.

But why would we make that stupid decision of compromise? We fall for the melodrama.

We feel like we’re trapped. We feel like we’re powerless. We feel like we’re starving and will die if we don’t eat something now.

Our feelings can often lead us into impulsive decisions, which turn into compulsions that cement into habits.

Most people who eat unhealthy foods would never commit suicide. Yet they know the problems that come with nutritional problems. They’re not happy with their choices and are frustrated with the disconnect, but they compromise.

I’ve been there. I don’t want to meal prep.

Meal prep for this conversation is more than just preparing nutritious meals. “Meal prep” represents a proactive lifestyle. How do you combat compromise? Manage your feelings and compulsions. But how? Meal prep. Exercise. Portion control. Reinforce good habits, wean yourself off of bad habits.

Though I hate to admit it, most compromise is a symptom of a lack of discipline. If I want to avoid compromise, I have to discipline my body, mind, and spirit to focus on God, His goodness, and everything good in life. Also, we should just practice being responsible, even when we don’t want to be.

In other words, if I want to keep my birthright, the God-given dignity and legacy I was born with…

I have to meal prep.