Obadiah: Are We Our Brother’s Keeper?

Part 5 of Short Books, Long Shadows
July 12, 2026
Glynwood Baptist Church, Prattville, AL
James Jackson, Pastor

Good morning! Please open your Bibles to Obadiah. Feel free to use the TOC. It’s the shortest book in the Old Testament. And its tucked right between Amos and Jonah.

Do you have a favorite Disney movie? Let me hear yours… For me, I think I’m always going to be a fan of The Lion King. The original. Not the weird, live action one. The original 1994 2D cartoon.

You’re familiar with the story. There’s Mufasa, the King. There’s Simba, Mufasa’s heir to rule Pride Rock. But there’s also the evil lion Scar— Mufasa’s brother, which makes him Simba’s uncle. Scar plots to eliminate both Mufasa and Simba. He lures Simba into a narrow canyon, then triggers a wildebeest stampede, knowing Mufasa will come to rescue his son.

And there’s this one shot… Scar sitting at the rim of the canyon, looking down impassively as his brother is fighting for his life. Mufasa claws his way up the side of the canyon, and pleads with Scar— “Brother— help me!” And Scar looks down and says, “Long live the king” and throws Mufasa back into the canyon.

And I remember the reaction back in 1994. It was like, “Oooooh— that’s dark for Disney!”

That’s dark, period. But its not something new that Disney cooked up. It goes back a lot further than that.

It’s… well, It’s a tale as old as time.

Sorry. Wrong movie.

Long before Disney imagined Pride Rock, the Bible told a story like that. Two brothers: Jacob and Esau. One the recipient of the father’s blessing, the other the jealous sbiling. Their rivalry didn’t end when they died. It became two nations. And when one brother fell, the other smiled.”

That’s the book of Obadiah. Through the prophet Obadiah, God rebukes the nation of Edom because they didn’t come to the aid of Jerusalem when Judah was attacked.

We know almost nothing about Obadiah himself. His name was common in the Old Testament, and the book never tells us which Obadiah this was. We also can’t be completely certain which invasion of Jerusalem he is describing. Many scholars think it was the Babylonian destruction in 586 BC, but the book itself never names Babylon.

And maybe the fact that we can’t definitively connect this prophecy to one specific event makes it easier to see a universal question:

To what extent are we responsible for helping others? Most of us are ready to help family members friends, or church members when they are in need. We are even willing to help strangers up to a point.

But what about enemies? What about rivals? Should we lend a helping hand when there is no benefit for ourselves in doing so?

Are we our brother’s keeper?

These are all questions this little book of Obadiah forces us to answer. Let’s dive into it.

[READ OBADIAH]

This is God’s Word. Let’s thank him for it. Pray with me…

1. Two Brothers (Obadiah 1-14)

Now, before we can understand Obadiah, we have to go all the way back to the book of Genesis. Because this whole thing didn’t start off with two nations called Israel and Edom.

It started with two brothers—Jacob and Esau, the twin sons of Isaac and Rebekah. In fact, they were fighting before they were even born. As Rebekah felt them struggling within her, God told her, “Two nations are in your womb” (Genesis 25:23). Their personal rivalry would one day become a national rivalry.

Sure enough, Esau was born first, but Jacob came out grabbing Esau’s heel. Esau was given the nickname Edom because of his red hair (Edom sounds like the Hebrew word for red), and the name Jacob means, “the one who grasps by the heel.”

Now, let’s be honest. Neither brother was a saint.

Esau was impulsive and short-sighted, selling his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of stew. Jacob was deceitful and opportunistic, tricking his blind father into blessing him instead of Esau. If you ever thought your family had drama,  this family was on another level. They put the fun in dysfunction.

Eventually, Jacob fled for his life. Years later, the brothers reconciled on the surface, but even then there was an undercurrent of distrust and suspicion. Eventually they came together to bury their father, but that was the last time the Bible records them seeing each other face to face.

Jacob’s name was changed to Israel, and he became a mighty nation.

Esau became the father of the Edomites, another powerful, rival nation.

The brothers died, but their descendants inherited the family feud. You see it throughout the Old Testament.

Israel asked permission to pass peacefully through Edom. Edom refused and met them with an army. David later conquered Edom. Edom eventually rebelled against Judah. Generation after generation, the bitterness continued.

And the prophet Amos, who preached just a few decades before Obadiah, pronounced judgment on Edom because, in his words,

“he pursued his brother with the sword and cast off all pity” (Amos 1:11).

Did you catch that? Amos doesn’t say Edom attacked Israel. He says he attacked his brother.

That’s exactly what Obadiah is saying.

Look at verse 10.

“Because of the violence done to your brother Jacob…”

The family relationship is the point.

Now notice something fascinating. The first accusation against Edom isn’t murder, or looting, or war crimes.

It’s indifference. Look at verse 11:

Obadiah 11 ESV

¹¹ On the day that you stood aloof, on the day that strangers carried off his wealth and foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for Jerusalem, you were like one of them.

“On the day… you stood aloof.“

Standing aloof. Watching. Doing nothing.

Remaining comfortably uninvolved.

We often think sin begins when we actively do something wrong.

Obadiah says it often begins when we refuse to do what’s right.

And then watch the progression. Obadiah 1:11-14

Obadiah 11–14 ESV

¹² But do not gloat over the day of your brother

in the day of his misfortune;

                         do not rejoice over the people of Judah

in the day of their ruin;

                         do not boast

in the day of distress.

                ¹³       Do not enter the gate of my people

in the day of their calamity;

                         do not gloat over his disaster

in the day of his calamity;

                         do not loot his wealth

in the day of his calamity.

                ¹⁴       Do not stand at the crossroads

to cut off his fugitives;

                         do not hand over his survivors

in the day of distress.

First they stood aloof.

•     Then they gloated.

•     Then they rejoiced.

•     Then they boasted.

•     Then they entered the city.

•     Then they looted.

•     Then they blocked the fugitives.

•     Then they handed survivors over to the enemy.

There’s two kinds of sin. There’s sins of commission, where you actively do the wrong thing. Then there’s sins of ommission, where you passively fail to do the right thing. James 4:17 says

James 4:17 ESV

¹⁷ So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.

Indifference. Telling ourselves, “It’s not my problem.” Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Do you remember the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10? Jesus told that story in response to a self-righteous lawyer asking him, “Who is my neighbor?” So Jesus tells the story:

A Jewish man is beaten up on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. A Jewish priest ignores him. A Jewish Levite comes along and does the same thing.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

A Samaritan stops to help him.

And Jesus flips the question from “Who is my neighbor?” to “who acted like a neighbor.”

Have you ever watched someone in your family spiral…and decided not to get involved?

Have you ever watched a marriage fall apart…and said, “That’s between them”?

Have you ever known someone in church who quietly drifted away…and assumed somebody else would call?

Have you ever seen someone getting torn apart online… and joined the pile-on instead of speaking up?

Have you ever heard about a celebrity scandal, or the death of a politician,  or the financial ruin of a businessman, and— secretly or not so secretly— rejoiced that they were finally getting what was coming to them?

That was the sin of Edom. They didn’t start by picking up a sword and fighting against their brother Judah.

They started by pretending Jacob wasn’t their brother to begin with.

And once they stopped seeing him as a brother, everything else became possible.

2. All Nations (Obadiah 1:15-16)

Everything changes in verse 15. Up until now, Obadiah has been talking about Edom.

But look how verse 15 begins:

“For the day of the LORD is near upon all the nations.”

Did you catch that? The spotlight suddenly gets much bigger.

This isn’t just about one nation that sinned against another nation. This isn’t just about an ancient family feud.

God takes the case of Edom and says, “Now let every nation pay attention.”

Edom isn’t the exception. Edom is the example.

Then comes the principle that governs God’s justice:

“As you have done, it shall be done to you; your deeds shall return on your own head.”

In other words, God’s judgment is perfectly just.

He doesn’t grade on a curve. He doesn’t play favorites. He doesn’t excuse sin because it was politically convenient, culturally acceptable, or personally profitable.

He judges with perfect righteousness.

That’s both comforting and terrifying.

It’s comforting when you’ve been wronged.

Every one of us has looked at the evil in this world and wondered,

“Will anyone ever answer for this?”

Obadiah says,

Yes.

No act of cruelty escapes God’s notice. No betrayal goes unseen. No injustice will ultimately go unanswered.

But it’s also terrifying.

Because the standard God used to judge Edom…

is the standard He uses for everyone.

The verse doesn’t say,

“The day of the LORD is near upon Edom.”

It says,

“The day of the LORD is near upon all the nations.”

That means God’s justice isn’t just for them back then.

It’s for us right now.

Now, most of us love justice, but only when its about someone else getting what they deserve.

We want justice when we’ve been cheated. When we’ve been lied to. When we’ve been betrayed.

But when we are the ones who have cheated, or lied, or betrayed, we don’t want justice anymore. We want mercy.

We all want a God that punishes sin…

Just not our sin.

But God is perfectly just. He doesn’t ignore sin.

He doesn’t wink at it. He doesn’t sweep it under the rug.

Look at the second half of verse 15:

English Standard Version Chapter 1

As you have done, it shall be done to you;
      your deeds shall return on your own head.

That’s how justice always works.

If you’ve wronged someone, justice says you should answer for it.

If you’ve betrayed your brother, justice says you should bear the consequences.

That’s true in every nation.

That’s true in every generation.

And if we’re honest…

that’s bad news for every one of us.

That ought to leave every one of us asking the same question: If that’s God’s standard… who could possibly stand? God would have a kingdom with no subjects. If Obadiah ended with verse 16, this would be one of the bleakest books in the Bible.

3. One Kingdom (Obadiah 17–21)

But thankfully, it doesn’t! Verse 17 begins with one of the greatest words in Scripture: “But.”

“But in Mount Zion there shall be those who escape… and it shall be holy, and the house of Jacob shall possess their own possessions.”

The scene changes. The focus shifts from judgment to restoration. God’s people return. Their inheritance is restored. Their enemies are defeated. And then Obadiah closes with one final declaration that towers over the entire book. Look at the final line.

“The kingdom shall be the LORD’s.”

That’s the destination of Obadiah. The book begins with two brothers fighting over blessings and birthrights. It ends with one King ruling over everything.

Think about it. Every kingdom in history has come and gone. Egypt. Assyria. Babylon. Persia. Greece. Rome. Edom. They all looked permanent. They all believed they would last forever. Today, they’re chapters in a history book. But the kingdom of God has never been threatened, never been overthrown, and never will be.

When Jesus came preaching, His favorite subject wasn’t heaven. It wasn’t even forgiveness. It was the Kingdom of God. His first public message was, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Then He gathered His disciples on a mountainside and described what life in that kingdom looks like.

The kingdoms of this world say, “Look out for yourself.” Jesus says, “Love your enemies.”

The world says, “Get even.” Jesus says, “Turn the other cheek.”

The world says, “Blessed are the powerful.” Jesus says, “Blessed are the merciful… blessed are the peacemakers.”

Again and again in Matthew 5, Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said… but I say to you.” He isn’t lowering God’s standard. He’s describing the values of a completely different kingdom.

But here’s the question. How can a perfectly just King welcome sinners like us into His kingdom? Obadiah has already told us, “As you have done, it shall be done to you.” If that’s true—and it is—then every one of us stands condemned. We’ve all acted more like Edom than we’d like to admit. We’ve stood aloof. We’ve failed to love our neighbor. We’ve rejoiced when someone else stumbled. We’ve treated people as obstacles instead of brothers.

The good news of the gospel is that Jesus did exactly what Edom refused to do. He didn’t stand aloof. He saw us in our distress and entered into it. He didn’t profit from our ruin; He took our ruin upon Himself. At the cross, the justice of Obadiah was not ignored. It was satisfied. “As you have done” did not simply disappear—it fell on Christ, who bore the judgment our sins deserved so that we could receive the mercy we never deserved.

So let me return to the question we began with. Are we our brother’s keeper? According to Obadiah, yes. According to Jesus, absolutely. In fact, that’s exactly what He became for us. He is the true and better Brother who did not abandon us when we were in trouble, but came to rescue us at the cost of His own life.

And one day, every rival kingdom will fall away. Every injustice will be answered. Every feud will finally end. And the closing words of Obadiah will become the anthem of all creation:

“The kingdom shall be the LORD’s.”

[Invitation]

As we close this morning, I want to ask you two questions.

First, have you entered the Kingdom?

Obadiah ends with one glorious declaration:

“The kingdom shall be the LORD’s.”

The question isn’t whether that kingdom will come. It will. The question is whether you belong to it.

The King has come. He lived the life we failed to live, died the death we deserved to die, and rose again so that rebels could become citizens. If you’ve never trusted Christ, today is the day to surrender to the true King.

But there’s a second question for those of us who already belong to Him.

Are you acting like a citizen of God’s kingdom?

Who have you stood aloof from? Who have you written off?

Whose pain have you watched from a safe distance?

Who have you secretly been glad to see fail?

Who needs a phone call?

Who needs forgiveness?

Who needs you to step toward them instead of away from them?

Kingdom people don’t stand aloof from people.

They move toward people.

Because that’s exactly what our King did for us.

In just a moment we’re going to sing. If you need Christ, come. If you need to pray, come. If you need to make peace with a brother or sister, don’t leave this room planning to do it someday. Let today be the day you take the first step.

One day every rival kingdom will disappear.

Every feud will end.

Every wrong will be made right.

And on that day,

“The kingdom shall be the LORD’s.

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