And they called Rebecca and said to her, Wilt thou go with this man? And she said, I will go.
Abraham's servant has finished his errand and refuses to stay another day. The family, who had pleaded for delay, put the matter to Rebekah herself. Her answer takes three words. Commentators read the scene as a picture of how anyone is won to a person they have never seen.
The "man" in the question is the servant, not the bridegroom. The pressure to delay comes first from relatives, then from our own hearts.
Rebekah's relatives pleaded for delay. The relatives of believers today so often do the same. And if we have no relatives to do this, our own foolish hearts will do it even more effectively. The servant, however, would allow no delay. So they put the question to Rebekah, for the final decision rested with her — "Will you go with this man?" Was she ready to entrust herself at once to the servant, who was acting on behalf of Isaac? Her answer was simple and decisive — "I will go."
Nothing in her answer came from sight. She had only a report about a man who was not there, and it set her present work against a far greater place.
Rebecca's affection for the absent bridegroom decided the matter. She took a decision of faith. If the report about Isaac, about her future and her high destiny was true, then nothing would keep her where she was. What was her former work of looking after Laban's sheep compared with the place of the wife of the son who was the heir of all things?
The servant refused to wait even a day. One writer asks whom he pictures, and why Rebekah answered so fast.
Let us remember that he is a picture of the Spirit of God. The Spirit acts with positive decision, and produces firm decision in the hearts of those whom He influences. We see this again in Rebekah's reply without hesitation when they ask her, "Will you go with this man?" She answers at once, "I will go" (v. 58). Such is the response that the grace of God brings forth from the hearts of those who are drawn to the blessed person of the Lord Jesus. Natural relationships fade into the background when Christ becomes the Object of the heart. He must have first place.
Her answer was not the escape of someone with nothing to lose.
Rebekah was not a penniless orphan. She had a father and mother, a home in Mesopotamia, and prospects of wealth and possessions in the land of her birth. To enjoy all these blessings she had no need to leave her native land and face a wilderness journey. Yet she leaves it all. She forgets her own people and her father's house, and she faces a wilderness journey to reach a person whom she has never seen. Such is the mighty attractive power of a person when faith and affection for that person have been awakened.
A half-hearted yes would have left her stranded between two homes.
Suppose Rebekah had hesitated and had kept thinking about the country she had left. She would have been unhappy. She would have had neither Isaac's house nor her father Bethuel's. If she had left all and yet had neither one home nor the other, her heart would have been alone in the wilderness, in an impossible position. But she has left all. As she talks with Eliezer, the servant, she fills her mind with what interests her heart. That lifts her heart above the things she has now left for ever. And she journeys in peace towards the home of her bridegroom.
One writer turns the question on the reader.
What was Rebekah's answer when her relations said to her, "Will you go with this man?" She said, "I will go." No one else can decide for you. You have a soul, its eternal welfare depends on your answer. You have a soul to be saved or lost. Oh, will you let anyone, anything, come in between the Lord and your soul? Decide, decide now.
- Asked — the family could arrange the match, but the servant would not move until Rebekah answered. The final decision was hers.
- Won — she had never seen Isaac. A report about him had already captured her heart, so her yes was a decision of faith, not of sight.
- Decided — the servant refused delay, and the same decisiveness appeared in her. When Christ becomes the heart's object, natural ties fall into second place.
- Left — she had a home, family and prospects worth keeping. She left them all for a wilderness journey toward a person she had not met.
- Whole-hearted — a half yes would have left her with neither her old home nor her new one. Because she left all, she travelled in peace toward her bridegroom.
And they sent away Rebecca their sister, and her nurse, and Abraham's servant, and his men.
Rebekah's family had asked her to stay a while longer. Instead they send her off with a stranger, and commentators read this short travel list as a picture of the whole Christian life: a heart won, a home left, and a guide for the road.
The servant refused every delay, and his errand explains why.
The servant says, "Send me away to my master." He had come to Mesopotamia to secure the bride, and having done that he would gladly be away. He had not come to stay there. His mind was not to secure the bride and settle her in the old home, but to secure the bride and lead her to a new home. And very blessedly he forms the same mind in Rebekah.
The family's feelings had to give way, and the choice fell to Rebekah.
Rebekah now becomes the main figure, along with the trusted servant of the father and the son. Here the servant puts aside the family's natural feelings. His one thought is to carry out his mission. They would have her stay a while. But the better his errand goes, the less delay he will allow. The bride has to decide the matter.
The verse names her nurse, and nothing else she owned. One writer draws out how little she carried and why she needed nothing more.
Rebekah takes her nurse with her, but they had little time to pack their suitcases. She would not need the possessions she owned in Haran, for Isaac would certainly supply her with all she needed and much more. The things we leave behind in coming to Christ are nothing compared to the riches of the spiritual blessings that He has laid up for us.
What made the leaving costly is that she had a real life to lose by it.
Rebekah was not a penniless orphan; she had a father and mother, a home in Mesopotamia with prospects of wealth and possessions in the land of her birth. To enjoy all these blessings she had no need to leave her native land and face a wilderness journey. Still, all is left. She forgets her own people and her father's house, and travels through the wilderness to reach a person she has never seen. Such is the mighty power of a person to draw, once faith and affection for that person are awake.
The nurse gets one line here, and one more much later.
Rebekah's nurse: she went with her mistress when she left Padan-aram and remained with her till her death; she was buried under the "oak of weeping." Gen. 24:59; Gen. 35:8.
She left with the same man who had told her about Isaac, and his care did not end at the door.
She goes out to meet the bridegroom. The faithful servant who had won her heart to Isaac continues his care, and guides her across the desert. They send her away with abundant blessings, though those blessings fall short of her real position. But the picture is unmistakable. It is the bride, delivered out of the present evil age according to the will of God our Father, to belong to Him who is in heaven, soon to join Him there.
The journey was long and empty, but the cost of it was not hers.
Full provision for the way is made, not at her cost, and she can forget what is behind because of the prospect ahead of her. Empty wastes lie between the place she has left and her future home. It is a long journey. But a power not her own carries her. And no doubt her guide lightens the road as she learns more and more about the one she is going to. How simple it all is! The Spirit of God leads the willing heart on to meet the Lord.
From the moment she rode out, she belonged to neither place. Her comfort was the company of Eliezer, Abraham's servant, on the road.
Suppose Rebekah had hesitated and thought about the country she had left. She would have been unhappy. She would have had neither Isaac's house nor her father Bethuel's. She would have left all and had neither one thing nor the other. Her heart, alone in the wilderness, would have found that position impossible. But she has left all. As she talks with Eliezer, she fills her mind with what interests her heart, and that lifts her above the things she has now left for ever.
The servant's "Hinder me not" is turned into a searching question — not whether the Spirit is able, but whether we are in His way.
How is it, then, that we are so little attached in affection to Christ, and so little detached from things here? Is it not that we hinder? So the servant's word, "Hinder me not," should have a powerful voice for us... We can cling to the world — its politics, its religion, its pleasures. We may even be so taken up with right things — country, family, and father's house — that we hinder the Holy Spirit.
- Decision — the family would have kept her a while longer; the servant would not wait, and the choice fell to the bride herself.
- Departure — the errand was never to leave her in the old home, but to lead her to a new one.
- Company — she took her nurse, no possessions, and the man who had told her about Isaac. The road was provided for, and not at her cost.
- Desert — from that hour she had neither her father's house nor her husband's. Talk of the one she was going to kept the road bearable.
- Delay — the servant would not be hindered, and neither should the Spirit be. Even right and good ties can get in His way.
And they blessed Rebecca, and said to her, Thou art our sister; mayest thou become thousands of tens of thousands; and may thy seed possess the gate of their enemies!
Rebekah's family sends her off with a blessing. Their words echo what God had already sworn to Abraham, and they say more than the speakers knew.
Older translations read "thousands of millions," which sounds like poetic exaggeration. One writer gives a more exact number, and links the blessing coming true to Rebekah's journey to Isaac.
"Thousands of millions" sounds somewhat exaggerated, but we understand that "ten thousand" would be a more exact translation than "million." With that correction we have to admit that their blessing has come to pass, but only as the fruit of her going out to Isaac under the leadership of the servant.
These were ordinary relatives saying goodbye, not prophets. Yet history has matched their words, and the second half still waits.
Rebekah leaves home with the blessings of her family, desiring that she might be the mother of thousands of millions (v. 60). No doubt God put this language into their mouths, for it has been truly prophetic, just as is the second expression, "may your offspring possess the gate of those who hate him." Israel has been hated by many nations, but will take over authority in the gates of their enemies, the very place of governmental judgment.
The phrase about the gate repeats God's oath to Abraham in Genesis 22:17. One writer ties that promise to the seed as countless as the sand, and to Israel's power on earth.
When God speaks of the seed as many as the sand or the stars, He gives them a Jewish character of blessing. "Your offspring (that is, the many descendants) shall possess the gate of his enemies." God promises the final power and glory of Israel in the earth, putting down their foes, and so forth.
Commentators differ on where the weight falls. Others read that oath as pointing past the nation to Christ Himself, the promised Seed:
It is in Christ that all the nations of the earth shall be blessed; it is Christ who shall possess the gate of His enemies (Gen. 22:17-18).
Their blessing was generous, but it fell short of where she was going. One writer sets the send-off beside the picture the whole chapter paints.
"And they sent away Rebekah their sister, and her nurse, and Abraham's servant and his men," with rich blessings, though those blessings fell short of her real position. But the picture is unmistakable. It is the bride, delivered out of this present evil age according to the will of God our Father, to belong to Him who is in heaven and soon to join Him there. The chosen young woman pictures her, setting out on her long journey to meet the one she is promised to.
The family that blesses her is the family that lets her go. Once Rebekah decided, the parting followed at once.
The immediate result of her decision was that "they sent away Rebekah their sister, and her nurse, and Abraham's servant and his men." If we make it clear that we are forgetting the things behind and are set on heavenly things, it will not simply be a question of our giving up the world. Instead, the world will give us up; we shall be "sent away."
- Decision first. Rebekah chose to go. Her family's blessing came true as the fruit of that going, not apart from it.
- Then the number. "Thousands of millions" is better read as thousands of ten thousands. It is a huge number, and history has proved it a real promise.
- Then the seed. The words about the gate repeat God's oath to Abraham. Commentators differ: some tie them to Israel's countless descendants, others to Christ, the promised Seed.
- Then the gate. The gate is the place of judgment, so holding it means ruling over former enemies — still ahead, not behind.
- Then the bride. Their generous words still fell short of her real position: a bride sent out of her old world to meet the one she is promised to.
And Rebecca arose, and her maids, and they rode upon the camels, and followed the man. And the servant took Rebecca, and went away.
The servant's task is done, and Rebekah's journey begins: she leaves everything she has known and rides out behind a guide, toward a husband she has never seen. Commentators see in this one verse a picture of where believers stand now: between a home left behind and a home not yet reached.
One writer reads this verse, and the words "followed the man," as a picture of the church today.
Verse 61 gives a beautiful picture of the present situation of the church. Rebekah got up and "followed the man." So the church is on a journey, in a desert where she will find nothing of interest to her. Guidance on this journey is given by the Spirit of God (not, of course, against or even without the written Word of God). Like Rebekah, the church has never seen the One she is travelling to meet, but she follows the Spirit by faith. As long as she is occupied with the Lord Jesus the journey will not be hard; otherwise it would be unbearable. Returning to Mesopotamia was not an option for Rebekah. Going back was giving up Isaac.
Nothing in the verse describes her feelings. One writer reads her act as evidence of what filled her heart.
What simple faith, and confidence in love, and hope abounding in her heart! There is no such combination of fitting affections in any bride you could name in the entire Old Testament. Dependence on her guide along the dreary way was what sustained her heart. She looked on to the one who was about to bring her into the enjoyment of the most tender of all relationships. What full and trustworthy reports the wise and faithful servant must have told her! They turned her mind away from looking back at her old home. They filled her with worthy expectation of such a father and such a son as awaited her!
The moment she rode away, she belonged to neither place. One writer sees believers in the same position, and points to what the servant, Eliezer, talked about along the road.
Now let us look at Rebekah's position; she had neither the house of Laban nor that of Isaac. It is the same with us. We have neither the earth we are on, nor the heaven we are going to. Rebekah had left everything, and said, "I will go." Eliezer, a picture of the Holy Spirit, talks to Rebekah during the journey about what is in the house of her bridegroom's father. This is precious conversation for the soul that needs the encouragement of seeing these things. It helps the soul endure the tiredness and difficulties of the journey, and not think about the house and the country it came out of! For Rebekah was going across the desert, just as we are. Eliezer, the faithful servant leading her, took care to comfort her. He spoke to her of the precious things in the father's house.
Rebekah did not walk the desert. She rode, and one writer draws meaning even from the animal that carried her.
The camel is not a clean animal. It chews the cud, but it does not divide the hoof. The servant is a picture of the work of the Holy Spirit, leading the church through the wilderness to meet the Lord. We are like the camels — we have bodies that connect us with the earth, but we have a power with us that leads us onward.
In the second half of the verse, the servant takes the lead.
"The servant took Rebekah and went his way." He took charge of her. We do not know how long the journey lasted. Most likely she did not know the route, nor how soon she would meet Isaac. But the bridegroom Isaac must have been always in her heart and before her eyes. And so it is with God's called-out ones, who make up the church. On the journey they are in the charge and keeping of the Holy Spirit. We do not know how long the journey to the meeting place may last.
That silence about the length of the trip is itself treated as instruction.
Nothing is said about the length of the journey or how many days it took: faith could bear this without complaint. So too, when our expectation of seeing our heavenly Bridegroom is fresh and real in our hearts, we shall not complain about our present circumstances.
- Arose. She left everything and said, "I will go." Going back would have meant giving up Isaac.
- Followed. She follows a guide she can see, toward a bridegroom she has never seen. That is the church's place today: following the Spirit by faith.
- Carried. Our bodies tie us to the earth, but a power travels with us and leads us onward.
- Sustained. The servant comforted her with the precious things in the father's house. Being occupied with the Lord Jesus keeps the journey from becoming unbearable.
- Taken. The servant took charge of her. She did not know the route or how long the road would be, yet Isaac stayed before her eyes.
And Isaac had just returned from Beer-lahai-roi; for he was dwelling in the south country.
Genesis 24:62 is a quiet hinge in a long chapter. Rebekah is still crossing the desert with Abraham's servant, and the story turns back to the bridegroom. It tells us where he has been and where he lives. Both details matter to commentators: the well he came from, and the southern country where he lived.
The name of the place Isaac came from tells its own story. It goes back to an earlier scene in this same family.
This means "well of the living and seeing one." A well situated between Kadesh and Bered, "in the way to Shur," so in the south. Here the angel of the LORD met Hagar when she fled from Sarai. Her cry on that occasion — "You are a God of seeing" — gave the well its name (Genesis 16:14). Isaac lived near this same well, Lahai-roi.
For Isaac this well was more than a landmark on the map.
Isaac's well, the place he loved most of all, was this Lahai-roi. The well told him, as it once told Hagar, of the gracious watching care of an ever-living, ever-present God. What a world this is, where sin has made Him a stranger, and where it has become necessary to seek God at all!
The name of the well also carries a promise for anyone still on the road.
He comes from the well Lahairoi — a word of deep meaning, for it means "the well of Him that lives and sees" (Genesis 16:14). As we travel on our way, how good to know that at the end of the journey we shall find One who has not forgotten His people. He sees and He lives — yes, the word is "He always lives" (Hebrews 7:25).
One writer takes the thought further. Hagar spoke of a God who saw her; the believer now sees too.
The older Authorised Version reads, "You, God, see me." That carries a most solemn truth. But surely it is a much greater thought for me to see God in Christ. It is not only that He sees me, but that I see Him revealed in perfect grace. "Isaac had just returned from Beer-lahai-roi" when he met Rebekah. This is the true and proper setting for the saint of God: standing in the full daylight of God revealed in Christ, and feeding where the new nature grows and becomes very fruitful.
The second half of the verse gives his address. That region has another name, and its borders matter.
The "south country" is the Negev. It was part of Canaan — the southern district that borders on the nearby wilderness. There he went out to meditate in the field at evening.
Isaac does nothing active in the whole chapter. That is not the same as not caring.
The servant's mission in Mesopotamia always looked ahead to the great day when he would guide the bride across the desert and present her to Isaac. In all these scenes Isaac had taken no active part, nor had he left the land of Canaan. All was left in the hands of the servant. Still, Isaac was far from indifferent to the servant's mission and the coming of the bride.
Many writers read Isaac's movement out from Lahai-roi as a foreshadowing.
From the well of Lahai-roi (the living and the seeing one) Isaac came. Isaac and Rebekah met. The servant presented her to Isaac and gave his report. As Isaac came out from Lahai-roi, so our Lord will come out from the place where He now is. He will come into the air to meet His own (1 Thessalonians 4:15-18). No doubt Isaac waited for Rebekah. As she expected to meet him, so we are to wait for God's Son from heaven. Before night came, Isaac took her into his tent, and then came the marriage (Revelation 19).
Isaac walking out to meet Rebekah also shows his own state of heart.
The picture presents Isaac as one who is waiting for, and wanting, his bride. Our desire for Christ may often be weak, but He always longs for the moment when His bride is presented to Him.
- Named — Beer-lahai-roi means "the well of Him that lives and sees." Hagar gave it that name when she met God there while running away.
- Lived at — Isaac did not just pass the well. He loved to be there, near a daily reminder of an ever-living, ever-present God.
- Located — The "south country" is the Negeb. It is still inside Canaan, on the edge of the wilderness. Isaac never left the land while the servant sought his bride.
- Watched — The name assures the traveller that the One waiting at journey's end has not forgotten His people. And more than being seen, the believer now sees God revealed in Christ.
- Coming — Isaac came out from that well to meet Rebekah. Commentators see in this a picture of Christ coming out to meet His own — a bridegroom who wants His bride more than she wants Him.
And Isaac had gone out to meditate in the fields toward the beginning of evening. And he lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold, camels were coming.
The servant's long journey ends here, and the story turns to the man waiting at home. Isaac meets his bride on a quiet evening walk — a scene that pictures both the shape of his life and Christ waiting for His own.
Isaac's story has little drama in it. Two things define him, and this evening walk is one of them.
The leading characteristics, then, are submission (Genesis 22) and meditation (Genesis 24:63) — a calm life given to quiet thought... the main course of his life is bound to be unheroic and unnoticed.
That obscurity is part of the lesson. The good things of his life came to him while he was alone with God.
He was meditating in the field when he got his Rebekah, and he had prayed for the mercy when God gave him Esau and Jacob... we see in him a man who fell short of being a witness for God in public, though he was kind and devout at home.
The word is plainer than it sounds. But where you do it decides whether it does you any good.
In the passages quoted, the word means "to talk to one's self" about whatever is filling the mind. As those passages show, this would be done, as in David's case, in the presence of the Lord... If meditation is to be of value and for blessing, we must do it in the presence of God.
Isaac went out to a field, alone. The place he chose matters as much as the habit itself.
A Christian, when he goes to meditate, must lock himself away from the world. The world spoils meditation... "Isaac went out to meditate in the field" (Genesis 24:63). He went off on his own so that he could take a walk with God in meditation. The world's music will either play us to sleep or distract us in our meditations.
The verse just before says where Isaac had come from. The name of that place carries weight.
He comes from the well Lahai-roi — a word of deep significance, for it means "the well of Him that lives and sees" (Genesis 16:14). As we travel on our way, how good to know that at journey's end we will find One who has not forgotten His people. He sees and He lives.
The trip across the desert took time, yet the chapter compresses it into morning and evening. When evening comes, Isaac is not indoors.
Verse 54 speaks of "the morning," when the journey started. Verse 63 mentions "the evening," when the journey finished and Isaac met his bride. Note that he did not receive her sitting in state in his father's tent. He had gone out to meet her.
Commentators see Christ in this scene. He waits through the present age while the Spirit draws His bride to Him.
The servant was sent to find a bride for Isaac, and we read that at eventide Isaac was meditating in the field. The blessed Lord is waiting; He is waiting patiently in the evening of this present age... The test for this woman is whether she is ready to follow the servant's leading. The test for us is whether we are ready for the Holy Spirit to take up our affections with Christ alone.
L. M. Grant is careful here. He will not say for certain what filled Isaac's mind, yet he still draws out the larger picture.
Perhaps thoughts of getting a wife were the main subject of his meditation. Even so, it is a faint picture of something greater: the Lord Jesus Himself will come to meet His bride, the church, as she nears the end of her journey on earth... We too will be glad to be veiled, as it were, when we meet our Lord. We will want Him to be the real Object of attraction.
- Morning. The chapter tells a long desert journey as one day. It starts in the morning (v. 54) and ends at evening (v. 63), when the bride arrives.
- Meditation. The word means talking a matter over with yourself, in God's presence. Isaac's field shows the cost: you shut the world out first.
- Character. Meditation and submission define Isaac: a quiet life, unnoticed in public, devout at home.
- Memory. He comes from Beer-lahai-roi, "the well of Him that lives and sees." The One waiting at journey's end has watched every step of it.
- Meeting. He does not wait indoors in state; he walks out. Commentators read that evening as this present age: Christ waits, and comes out to meet His own. Like Rebekah under her veil, we will want Him, not ourselves, to be the Object of attraction.
And Rebecca lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac, and she sprang off the camel.
A long journey ends in a single glance. Rebekah crossed the desert on a servant's word, and one sight of Isaac in a field brings her down off the camel.
Isaac lifted up his eyes in the verse before. Rebekah lifts up hers here. One writer reads that mutual look as the church's meeting with Christ, and what she sees repays the whole journey.
Not only did Isaac 'lift up his eyes' (v.63), but so did Rebecca (v.64). And when she did, 'she saw Isaac' — the one she had longed to meet, the one for whom she answered the call and made the journey. This is the hope of the church, to see the Lord Jesus face to face: 'For we shall see him as he is' (1 John 3:2)... Rebecca sees Isaac and knows that the journey is over. She gets down from the camel and covers herself with her veil, showing that she keeps her beauty for him alone.
The camel had carried her across the desert. She leaves it the moment she sees him. The reason is that the road has ended.
When at last Rebekah lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac, she got down from the camel, for the journey was over. And when at last we see Him face to face, our journey will be over. It will not be long. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. When the moment comes, our being taken up will not take long — only the twinkling of an eye, and we shall be there.
Rebekah did not arrive to find Isaac sitting in his father's tent. She saw him because he had walked out into the open country toward her. One writer follows the day from its start to that evening meeting.
Many have pointed out that the account tells the journey across the desert, however long it really took, as though it all happened within one day. Verse 54 speaks of "the morning," when the journey started. Verse 63 mentions "the evening," when the journey finished and Isaac met his bride. It is worth noting that he did not receive her while sitting in grand style in his father's tent. He received her as one who had gone out to meet her.
Her first sight of Isaac raises a question, and the servant who has guided her the whole way answers it. That answer is his last act before he hands everything over.
But the time is not long. Soon the bride sees a man walking in the fields, and her guide tells her that it is his master. Before he gave his account of everything, this faithful servant's last act was to say, "It is my master." What joy it will be to the Spirit of God — not only to have told us of Christ all our journey here, but before long to say to us, "This is He."
One writer turns her promptness into a question for the reader. Does anything in us answer to what she did?
Are we as simple in faith, as prompt and unlagging? Our journey is nearly over now, and the cry has already gone out, "Behold the Bridegroom!" — for those to whom the Interpreter-Spirit has spoken. Should there not be something in us that answers to this beautiful action of Rebekah's, when "she dismounted from the camel" and "took her veil and covered herself"? It is He whose glory Isaiah saw, and before whom the seraphim cover themselves. He calls us to a place near Him, and the intimacy is already ours, if we enjoy it. Both will show themselves only in deeper and more self-abasing reverence.
Another writer weighs working for Christ against waiting for Him.
Yes, the Bridegroom is coming! and the Spirit crying, Come out to meet Him. It is good to work for Him; it is far better to wait for Him... We need this hope in a world that lures on one side and destroys on the other, so that we purify ourselves as He is pure... Nothing can make up for this hope if it is lacking or even feeble.
- Eyes up. He watched for her; she looked for him. The hope held out to believers is the same: to see Him as He is.
- Feet down. She leaves the camel because there is nothing left to travel toward. The sight of him ends the road.
- He came out. Isaac did not receive his bride seated at home. He walked into the field to meet her.
- Ears open. The servant's last service is to name the man — a picture of the Spirit, who has spoken of Christ all the way and will soon say, "This is He."
- Head bowed. The nearer the bride comes, the lower she bows. Closeness to Christ produces reverence, not familiarity, and waiting for Him keeps the hope from growing feeble.
And she had said to the servant, Who is the man that is walking in the fields to meet us? And the servant said, That is my master! Then she took the veil, and covered herself.
Rebekah's long ride does not end at a house. It ends with a man walking toward her in a field at evening. The servant names him — "It is my master" — and her first move is to cover herself.
She does not put on the veil at random. The servant names the man first, and the veil makes her ready to be brought to him.
Notice how he received her. He was not seated in state in his father's tent; he had gone out to meet her. The servant recognised the lonely man in the field, deep in thought, as his master. He passed that knowledge on to the bride, and she then veiled herself, so that, hidden from other eyes, she might be presented to him.
The veil hides her from everyone else. One writer takes that as the pattern the church has failed to keep.
All the varied beauties that mark the saints of God are for the eye of Christ alone. The moment we do anything to attract the eye of man, the true character and beauty of the spiritual life are gone. When Rebekah saw Isaac she veiled herself — a very precious sign that she was to be for Isaac alone. The church ought always to have worn her veil. She should have kept herself for Christ alone, instead of displaying herself before the world that has refused and rejected her Lord.
She gets down from the camel before she covers herself. One writer asks whether the end of our own journey should draw the same response from us.
Our journey is nearly over, and the cry has already gone out, "Behold, the bridegroom!" For those to whom the Spirit, our Interpreter, has spoken, should there not be something in us that answers to this beautiful action of Rebekah's? She got down from the camel, took a veil and covered herself. It is He whose glory Isaiah saw, before whom the seraphim cover themselves. We are called to a place near Him, and the intimacy is already ours, if we enjoy it. Both will only show themselves in deeper and more self-abasing reverence.
The veil says something about who she now belongs to. One writer connects it with the covered head in the letter to the Corinthians.
Second, we see the man uncovered and the woman covered. This tells us of the difference between them, understood spiritually. As we read here, "For man was not made from woman, but woman from man." These two things are true not only of Adam and Eve, but of Christ and the church. So in the assembly the woman is to carry the sign of subjection, the covered head, and the man is to appear without it, picturing "Christ and the church."
One writer looks past Isaac to the day the church meets her Lord.
Isaac going out into the field, and the camels coming to him, is a faint picture of what will happen: the Lord Jesus Himself will come to meet His bride, the church, as she nears the end of her journey on earth. Of course the servant had to tell Rebekah who Isaac was, and then she covered herself with a veil (v. 65). She had no wish to display her beauty at that first moment. We too shall be glad to be, as it were, veiled when we meet our Lord, for we shall want Him to be the real Object of attraction.
The veil is not the end of the story. The marriage follows it.
After the meeting, Rebekah took a veil and covered herself. The bride made herself ready and the marriage followed, for "Isaac took Rebekah … and she became his wife, and he loved her." So too, our wilderness journey will end, and the great meeting will come. For the first time we shall see Him face to face, and He will receive us to Himself. Then we read, "the marriage of the Lamb has come, and His Bride has made herself ready."
- Told. She veils only after the servant names the man. Recognition comes first, response second.
- Hidden. The veil hides her from every other eye. Her beauty was for Isaac alone, not for the road.
- Lowered. She comes down from the camel and covers herself. Nearness to a glorious person shows itself in deeper reverence, not in easy familiarity.
- Marked. The covering marks a relationship and an order. Writers carry it over to the covered head, and to Christ and the church.
- Married. The veil comes right before the wedding. She makes herself ready, and he receives her and loves her — the pattern of the meeting still ahead.
And the servant told Isaac all things that he had done.
The long journey is over, and the servant now gives his master a full account of the errand. Commentators call this short verse the close of a mission begun in Abraham's house, and a picture of the Spirit bringing a bride to Christ.
Commentators call this servant Eliezer. They tie his report to his single mind:
Eliezer set all his thoughts on carrying out the divine errand, and he could not rest until he had told Isaac all the things that he had done.
Another writer sees a man with one work, and a wish for all Christians:
Next comes complete and exclusive devotion to the service he had to perform. He would not eat until he had told his errand, and then there was no hesitation: he has one work and nothing else. If only it were so with all who are Christ's!
The errand had one destination, and the servant gives his report there. One writer follows the journey through to what fills the bride's heart at the end:
In the scene before us Eliezer conducts Rebekah to her bridegroom. So also the Holy Spirit conducts us to the end and the goal. What Rebekah first sees is Isaac; and Isaac takes his bride into his mother's tent. Now that she has the bridegroom, she takes no thought for anything else. She thinks no longer of the possessions, but of the bridegroom Himself. The important business was to bring the bride to the bridegroom.
One writer looks at how Isaac and Rebekah meet, and at what the servant's report may picture:
We see the most reverent love in her beautiful behaviour. And in his love and kindness we see the promises and testimonies of Eliezer fulfilled... This may be like the Holy Spirit delivering up His sacred charge to the Son of the Father, though He will dwell in the church for ever.
That handover does not mean the Spirit's presence with His people ends.
One writer describes the full range of what the Spirit puts before the souls He forms:
This is just how the Holy Spirit is pleased to form our renewed souls. He forms them with the love of Christ, and with the grace of His life and His death. He forms them with the glory that was His from eternity as a divine Person, and with His present exaltation as the risen Man and Head to the church over all things. He forms them with His coming appearing in glory, when He will make good His title and put all things under Him, having abolished all rule and all authority and power. Yet He never changes in that purpose, or in the nearness of love He has for His bride.
Not every writer presses the comparison the same way. One marks a limit:
Our Bridegroom has no need, as Isaac had, to hear what the servant had to tell. Yet no one can doubt this: in the communion of the Holy Spirit He takes every interest in her whom He loved as His own for heaven.
One writer applies the end of this journey to the church's own journey:
At the end of the church's pilgrimage the heavenly Bridegroom will come out into the air to meet her. He will then bring her into His Father's house... At the end of the journey the Bridegroom will be everything, and the present mission of the Holy Spirit will reach its perfect end.
- Errand. The servant had one work and nothing else; he could not rest until he had told his master everything.
- Errand's aim. Every step served one end: bringing the bride to the bridegroom.
- Errand told. Commentators read the servant as a picture of the Holy Spirit. He delivers up His sacred charge to the Son, yet still dwells with the church.
- Errand's content. The report covered all he had done. In the same way, the Spirit forms our souls with the love of Christ, His glory and His coming.
- Errand finished. Commentators differ on how far the comparison runs. Christ needs no report, as Isaac did. Still, at the end of the journey the Bridegroom will be everything.
And Isaac led her into his mother Sarah's tent; and he took Rebecca, and she became his wife, and he loved her. And Isaac was comforted after [the death of] his mother.
This verse closes the longest chapter in Genesis. The servant's journey ends, the bride arrives, and Sarah's empty tent has someone in it again. Commentators read the scene on two levels. It is a real marriage in Isaac's life, and it is a picture of Christ and those He calls to Himself.
One writer traces the servant's whole role and finds in him a picture of the Holy Spirit, whose work ends by handing the bride over.
Eliezer is a well-known type of the Holy Spirit "sent from heaven" on this gracious mission. He knows the mind of the father. He is in constant communication with God. He moves without hurry, straight to the point, and with dignity. He calls, wins, and adorns the bride. He carries and guards her through the wilderness until she is safely home. Then he hands her to the bridegroom, who goes out to meet her.
Isaac does not build Rebekah a new home. He brings her into his mother's tent, and his mother has just died.
The last verse of our chapter tells us that in gaining his bride Isaac forgot the sorrow caused by his mother's death. Sarah here is a type of Israel, out of whom Christ came as to the flesh. Right now Israel stands disowned as a nation. But the Spirit has filled that gap, and more than filled it, by calling out the church.
Commentators differ on the tent itself. Another writer keeps it for Israel's future and gives the church a different home:
Sarah's tent is, in type, for the bride on earth — Israel regathered. The Father's house is for the bride in heaven — the church — and for the friends of the Bridegroom.
"He loved her" is not the Bible's first mention of love. The order of the two mentions matters.
In Genesis 22 you have the story of the Father's love to the Son. Note that this is the first time Scripture mentions love. The next time we find it, it is the love of the Bridegroom for the bride (chapter 24). He loves her, and she comforts him. That is just what you would expect in Scripture: first the love of the Father for the Son, then the love of the Bridegroom for the bride, who comforts him. Yes, love is always personal, and mutual.
One writer lists the outward parallels first, then names the moral point that matters more.
Rebekah pictures the church in two main outward ways. She came out from among the Gentiles to be Isaac's bride, after his resurrection in figure. She entered Sarah's tent after Sarah's death. But the main moral point is that she believed without seeing… The mark that sets the church apart is this: faith in a message from her absent suitor wins her to betrothal. And so she receives the highest blessing and the closest affection.
The chapter ends with Isaac comforted. One writer reads the scene forward, to a meeting still ahead.
After the meeting Rebekah took a veil and covered herself. The bride made herself ready and the marriage followed… So too, our wilderness journey will end. Then comes the great meeting, when for the first time we see Him face to face and He receives us to Himself. Then we read, "the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready." Christ will present the church to Himself all glorious, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing — "holy and without blemish." Then it will be clear that Christ has found an object suited to His love, and responsive to His love, and He will be satisfied.
- Sent. The servant calls the bride, wins her, adorns her, and guards her across the wilderness. His work ends only when he hands her to the bridegroom.
- Won. Rebekah believed without seeing. A message from a man she had never met carried her across the desert, and that faith draws the closest affection.
- Brought in. She takes the tent of Sarah, who has died. For one writer this pictures Israel set aside as a nation, with the gap more than filled by the calling out of the church. Others keep the tent for Israel regathered.
- Loved. This is the Bible's second mention of love. The first was the Father's love for the Son in chapter 22. Here love is personal and mutual: he loves her, she comforts him.
- Satisfied. Isaac is comforted after his mother's death. The same line runs on to the day the bride appears without blemish, and the One who loved her is satisfied.