And Esau was forty years old, when he took as wives Judith the daughter of Beeri the Hittite, and Basmath the daughter of Elon the Hittite.
Genesis 26 ends with a jolt. God has just renewed His promise to Isaac. Then Isaac's older son marries two Hittite women. The verse raises a question the rest of Genesis answers: how much do a man's closest ties reveal about his heart?
His age matters, and so does his taking both wives at once. One writer ties the marriage back to the day Esau traded his birthright for a bowl of stew.
First, as a preface to the setting aside of Esau, we are told of his marriage, at forty years old, at once to two Canaanite wives. This is the natural sequel of a profanity which could value his birthright at a bowl of stew. These "forty years" are a significant hint to us of completed probation. In his two wives, married at once, he refuses at once the example and counsel of his father, and by his union with Canaanite women disregards the divine sentence, and shows unmistakably the innermost recesses of the heart.
The same writer adds: "It is a sign of the times that people think so little about the character of a man's associations. In truth, nothing gives us our character so much. Esau's Canaanite wives set him aside for good from the blessing which the next chapter shows becoming Jacob's."
Isaac's own wife came from Abraham's family, not from Canaan. Esau reversed that, and in doing so he crossed more than family custom.
Esau established the most intimate connection, that of marriage, with two Hittite women. He thus brushed aside the thought of taking a wife from their own kindred, and linked himself with the people of the land whose sin was rising until their judgment fell some three to four hundred years later. Previously he had despised the birthright, now he despised a restriction that had divine sanction. The call of God was nothing to him. It was a grief of mind to his parents and a challenging of the purpose of God.
One writer weighs both the word used for his parents' grief and Esau's second choice of wife.
When Esau was 40 years of age (that is, the age of normal discretion) he took as wife (a deliberate selection) Judith… They were a grief of mind (margin: "bitterness or sorrow") to his parents… In his second selection Esau came near to the right line, but stopped short of the mind of God for the descendants of Abraham, the friend of God. How often intimate ties are formed by Christians with those who are outwardly connected with Christian profession, but who prove to be no different from the world.
Isaac felt the wrong, yet it did not change how he treated Esau.
Esau not only had disposed of his birthright, but he had socially disqualified himself from being heir by marrying a Canaanite. This being known to Isaac is, as we read, a "grief of mind" to him. Yet even this did not displace Esau from that place in his father's affections which he had held for so many years.
Another writer asks how it came to this, and compares Isaac with his own father.
But he is seriously careless in this matter, compared with his father… He does not watch over his children's ways, to head off trouble, as Abraham had done. Esau his son marries a daughter of the Hittites. Isaac and Rebekah are grieved at this, it is true; for they had righteous souls which knew how to be "vexed" with this; but then, it was their carelessness which had brought this trouble upon them.
One writer applies Esau's marriages to the choices believers make today.
Isaac had received a wife from the family of Abraham, for God's promise was connected with that line, the line of faith. Esau took two wives, both from the Hittites, the children of Heth, which means "fear", a picture of people who live in fear of death rather than by faith… But mixed marriages have been a source of great trouble throughout history. Esau's marriages therefore were a grief of mind to his parents. May every believer pay closest attention to the serious warning of 2 Corinthians 6:14 to 18, which begins, "Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers."
- Choice — At forty, an age of full discretion, Esau chose two Canaanite wives at once. It was deliberate, not a slip.
- Contempt — He had already despised his birthright. Now he despised a restriction that carried divine sanction. The call of God meant nothing to him.
- Character — Nothing gives a man his character like the company he chooses. His wives exposed the innermost recesses of his heart.
- Consequence — The marriages brought bitterness to Isaac and Rebekah. They also set Esau aside from the blessing that passed to Jacob.
- Caution — The warning still stands. Do not be unequally yoked. And beware of choices that come near the right line but stop short of the mind of God.
And they were a grief of mind to Isaac and to Rebecca.
Genesis 26 ends in peace: wells dug, and a treaty sworn at Beersheba. Then comes the sour note — Isaac's elder son marries two Hittite women, and older translations say they were "a grief of mind" to his parents.
The pain lands on the parents, but one writer looks past them. Esau had already sold his birthright. This marriage showed the same contempt, now in his closest tie.
Verses 34 and 35 reveal a bitter sorrow in sad contrast. Despising his birthright was not enough for him. This unholy man took two daughters of Heth as wives when he was fully grown, and both his parents grieved. Was this a man to receive or value the blessing of Jehovah? It was He who was dishonoured most by such a marriage, to say nothing of the family.
Esau was forty, and he married two women at the same time. One writer reads that choice as a window into the man.
These "forty years" are a significant hint to us of completed probation. By marrying two wives at once, he refuses both the example and the advice of his father. By joining himself to Canaanite women, he disregards God's sentence. The choice shows plainly what lies deepest in his heart. It is a sign of the times that so little is thought of the character of man's associations. In truth, nothing gives us our character so much. To say of Enoch, or of Noah, that "he walked with God" describes the man fully in the fewest words. Can choosing to keep company with His enemies fit any real desire for such a walk? Esau's Canaanite wives set him aside at last from the blessing, and the next chapter shows that blessing going to Jacob.
Isaac had avoided this exact mistake. Abraham arranged his son's marriage with care, and Isaac waited for it. Esau broke with the way his family had lived.
Abraham sends a trusted servant far away to get a wife "in the Lord" for his son. Eliezer goes on that errand with a ready mind. Isaac waits in patience for the outcome. He seeks no alliance with the people nearer at hand. Though sad and lonely, he keeps himself for the wife the Lord has appointed. He might have got a daughter of Canaan; but he endured.
Isaac and Rebekah are the ones who suffer here. One writer traces part of that sorrow back to what Isaac had failed to do.
Isaac in his turn and generation becomes the head of the family. But compared with his father he is badly careless here, as the close of chapter 26 shows us. He does not watch over his children's ways to head off trouble, as Abraham had done. Esau his son marries a daughter of the Hittites. Isaac and Rebekah grieve over it, it is true. They had righteous souls that knew how to be "vexed" by such a thing. But their own carelessness had brought that grief on them.
The grief did not fade. A chapter later Rebekah speaks to Isaac about these same women.
She tells Isaac she is tired of living because of the daughters of Heth, two of whom Esau had married. They evidently continued to be "a grief of mind" to her. How many Christian mothers since then have had deep sorrow over their children being married to unbelievers!
The Hittites were the children of Heth. One writer finds the lesson in the name itself.
Esau took two wives, both from the Hittites, the children of Heth, which means "fear," typical of those who live in fear of death rather than by faith. Compare Hebrews 2:15, which speaks of those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. How dishonoring to God it is to mix His promise with the fear of death! But mixed marriages have been a source of great trouble throughout history. Every believer should give closest attention to the serious warning of 2 Corinthians 6:14-18. It begins, "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers."
- Contempt — Esau despised his birthright first, then married two Hittite women. One attitude showed itself twice.
- Character — nothing gives us our character like the company we choose. Esau's two wives showed what lay deepest in his heart.
- Cost — the pain landed on Isaac and Rebekah, and a chapter later Rebekah is still weary of life because of it.
- Carelessness — Abraham watched over his son's marriage. Isaac did not watch over Esau's, and one writer traces part of the grief back to that.
- Caution — the scene ends in a plain warning — do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers.
And it came to pass when Isaac had become old, and his eyes were dim so that he could not see, that he called Esau his elder son, and said to him, My son! And he said to him, Here am I.
Genesis 27 opens with an old man who cannot see. Isaac calls for Esau, though God had already said the older son would serve the younger. The verse reads like a simple note about age. Commentators treat it as the doorway into a chapter where a whole family works against God's stated will.
The physical detail carries a spiritual one. One writer ties Isaac's blindness directly to what he had let rule him:
Despite Esau's wrong marriages, and despite God's word that Isaac's older son would serve the younger (Gen. 25:23), Isaac was ready to give his chief blessing to Esau. Verse 1 tells us that his eyes were dim. No doubt his spiritual eyes were dim also. The reason is clear: he allowed his natural appetite to take priority over the revealed will of God.
Isaac is near the end of his life, and his mind is on food. The older wording "savoury meat" appears as "delicious food" in the ESV:
Here we find the aged Isaac standing, as it were, at the very door of eternity. Earth and nature are fast fading from his view. Yet he is taken up with "savoury meat," and about to act in direct opposition to God's counsel by blessing the elder instead of the younger. This was nature, and nature with its "eyes dim." If Esau had sold his birthright for a bowl of stew, Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a plate of venison. How very humiliating!
God had already announced who would carry the blessing. Isaac was not the only one in that house who ignored it:
Here was ample room for the discernment and intelligence of faith. But it is the complete absence of both these qualities that marked Isaac at the beginning. The eye of faith was as blind as the eye of nature. Whatever Isaac's blindness on the one hand, or Jacob's deceit on the other, God's will is done. But this in no way lessened their responsibility and sin. Indeed the whole family were joined in sin at that moment, though on opposite sides — Isaac with Esau, and Rebekah with Jacob. … Esau, already called a godless man for selling his birthright, backs his blind father and agrees with him to frustrate, if possible, the counsel of God. No doubt Esau knew that God had said, "the older shall serve the younger," and he hoped to regain the blessing.
Rebekah overheard this call to Esau. Her answer to her husband's plan was craft, not prayer:
For the time being Isaac's heart was blinder than his eyes. His foolish favouritism led him to thwart the declared mind of God. Rebekah overheard this and tried to counter it with a woman's craft and quick invention. Had she looked to God instead of her weak husband and her favourite son, how different everything would have been! … But she did not ask Jehovah now, as she once had. She gave in to a low deceit. It was as sinful before God as it was dishonouring to her husband and to herself.
The meal Isaac craved became the tool of his correction:
But God will subdue nature, unjudged nature, and in Isaac too! And not only this. God's ways are perfect and complete. He will use that very indulgence as the direct instrument to discipline him — the same indulgence that had twisted Isaac's mind and judgement. God allows him to be deceived. The "savoury meat" turned his mind away from sound judgement, and the same "savoury meat" now forces him, without knowing it, to act according to the will of God. He carries out the will of God almost against his own will, with no real communion with Him — the sad result of nature left unjudged.
Scripture does not soften the picture:
God has completely washed away the blots, the failures and the errors of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob… But their history remains on the page of inspiration. It displays God's grace and warns God's people in all ages. It also shows us that God has not been dealing with perfect men and women, but with people "of like passions as we are." He has walked with and borne with the same failures, the same weaknesses, the same errors that we mourn over every day.
- Appetite first. Isaac let his taste for Esau's game outrank God's spoken word. That choice shapes the whole chapter.
- Then dimness. The failing eyes of verse 1 picture a deeper loss: the eye of faith had gone as blind as the eye of nature.
- Then scheming. Rebekah once asked God directly. Now she meets her husband's plan with deceit — the whole household split, and every side of it wrong.
- Then discipline. God used the very dish Isaac craved as the tool to humble him; the indulgence became the correction.
- Yet the purpose stood. Human blindness and cunning changed nothing about God's will. The record of the failure remains to display His grace and to warn us.
And he said, Behold now, I am become old; I know not the day of my death.
Isaac is old, his sight has failed, and he believes death is near. So he moves to settle the family blessing. The strange thing is where he aims it: at Esau, the son who had sold his birthright and whom God had already passed over.
Isaac speaks as a man with little time left. One writer measures the gap between what he expected and what happened:
He went blind many years earlier and expected to die soon (27:2). In fact he did not die until he had lived 180 years.
Another gives the exact number of years, and says what they held:
Isaac lives after this event 43 years longer, but with this he passes from the page of history. Of his death and burial by Esau and Jacob we hear later. Patient endurance and suffering marked his life. His faith consisted in quietness and waiting.
Isaac's eyesight had failed. One writer sees a deeper failure behind it:
Verse 1 tells us that his eyes were dim. No doubt his spiritual eyes were dim also. Clearly this was because he allowed his natural appetite to come before the revealed will of God.
Isaac speaks of dying and in the same breath orders a meal. One writer sets that contrast beside Esau's own bargain:
Here we find the aged Isaac standing, as it were, at the very door of eternity. The earth and nature were fast fading from his view. Yet he was taken up with tasty food, and about to act in direct opposition to God's counsel by blessing the elder instead of the younger. Truly this was nature — nature with its "eyes dim." Esau had sold his birthright for a bowl of stew; Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a plate of venison. How very humbling!
The blessing was a priestly act, and the last one of Isaac's life. Notice what he called for to prepare himself:
He was about to do the last religious act of a patriarchal priest. Yet he calls for his meal as if for wine and strong drink — the food of mere animal life — to lift him up and equip him for the service!
Isaac's affection for Esau survived everything that should have ended it.
Esau had not only disposed of his birthright; by marrying a Canaanite woman he had also lost his social right to be heir. Isaac knew this, and it was a grief of mind to him. Yet even this did not remove Esau from the place in his father's affection that he had held for so many years… To the last, Isaac clings to the son he loved. In the strength of his natural affection he overlooked every divine hint and every act of Esau's that should have moved him to a different course. Here he comes before us in a truly humbling light, as the believer always does when uncontrolled nature rules the day.
Isaac is deceived, and God's will is done anyway. One writer shows how God dealt with him through the very thing he had indulged:
But God will subdue nature, unjudged nature, and in Isaac too! And not only this — so perfect and complete are God's ways! He will use that very indulgence as the direct instrument to discipline him. It was the indulgence that had twisted Isaac's mind and judgment. He is allowed to be deceived. The tasty meal turned his mind away from sound judgment; and the same tasty meal forces him, without knowing it, to act according to the will of God.
Scripture's own verdict on this scene is surprising:
The crisis of his ways came when his foot had nearly slipped in the matter of his two sons (Gen. 27). Grace overruled here; and he was saved, yet only as through fire. How striking that such a scene should be singled out to his praise in Hebrews 11:20! "By faith Isaac invoked future blessings on Jacob and Esau." Isaac lived many years after this. Scripture records only his death and burial.
- Wrong day. Isaac said he did not know the day of his death, and acted as if it were near. He lived another forty-three years, reaching 180.
- Dim sight. His weak eyes matched weak judgment. The cause was an appetite he put before God's revealed will.
- Wrong aim. At the door of eternity a meal filled his mind. He was ready to hand the blessing to the son who had already sold his birthright.
- Wrong love. Isaac overlooked every warning about Esau. This is what unjudged nature does in a believer.
- Right outcome. God used the very indulgence that had blinded Isaac to correct him. His purpose stood, and Hebrews 11:20 remembers the scene as an act of faith.
And now, I pray thee, take thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and go out to the field and hunt me venison,
Isaac is old, and his eyes have failed. He sends his elder son out to hunt game and cook his favourite meal before he gives the family blessing — and commentators trace his failure to that meal.
Isaac names a hunter's kit. A quiver is "the receptacle for arrows" (Morrish Bible Dictionary). But why did Isaac want the hunt at all? He had reasons to hold back:
Esau had not only disposed of his birthright, he had also socially disqualified himself from heirship by marrying a Canaanite. Isaac knew this, and it was, as we read, a "grief of mind" to him. Yet even this did not remove Esau from the place he had held in his father's affections for so many years… So, right to the end, Isaac clings to the son he loved. His natural affection was so strong that he overlooked every divine hint, and every act of Esau's that should have moved him to a different course. Here he comes before us in a truly humbling light, as a believer always does when nature runs unchecked.
Both parents had a favourite, and each choice had a reason.
Sadly, it was not something new that Isaac loved Esau. He loved him not simply as his son, because of his natural boldness, but because venison suited his taste. Rebekah, meanwhile, loved Jacob. His character had the same traits of the flesh as hers — Syrian craft and selfishness. But neither of them was lukewarm about the divine promise.
Willis weighs the words Isaac added — "such as I love":
Isaac was a very wealthy man. He had never "endured hardness" as his father had done. He was what we call a "soft" man. He had slipped into the habit of luxury and self-indulgence. "Savoury meat, such as I love" are words completely unworthy of a saint of God. Like Noah, his son's fall was largely due to his own self-indulgence.
Verse 1 tells us Isaac's sight had failed. Commentators link that to a deeper blindness:
Despite Esau's wrong marriages, and despite God's word that Isaac's older son would serve the younger (Gen. 25:23), Isaac was ready to give his chief blessing to Esau. We are told in verse 1 that his eyes were dim. No doubt his spiritual eyes were dim too, because he let his natural appetite take precedence over the revealed will of God.
Mackintosh sets father and son side by side:
Here we find the aged patriarch Isaac standing, as it were, at the very door of eternity. The earth and nature are fast fading from his view. Yet he is taken up with "savoury meat," and about to act in direct opposition to the divine counsel by blessing the elder instead of the younger… If Esau had sold his birthright for a bowl of stew, Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a dish of venison. How very humbling!
Bellett weighs what Isaac was about to do — and what he called for first:
He was about to perform the last religious act of a patriarchal priest. And he calls for wine and strong drink — the food of mere nature — to stir him up and fill him for the service of the temple! Terrible abomination!… We may all be aware how much of nature stains our holy things. We can mistake the excitement of the flesh for the easy, strong current of the Spirit. We may notice this in times of fellowship. But that should be our sorrow. We confess it as evil and weakness, and we watch against it.
The story does not end with Isaac's failure. The very appetite that misled him becomes the tool that corrects him:
But God will subdue nature, unjudged nature, and in Isaac too! And more than that. God's ways are so perfect and complete that He will use the very indulgence that had twisted Isaac's mind and judgement as the direct tool to discipline him. God lets him be deceived. The "savoury meat" turned his mind from sound judgement; and the same "savoury meat" makes him act, without knowing it, according to the will of God.
Kelly turns to how God dealt with the whole family:
Let us delight in the wisdom of His ways. He overruled a partiality of the flesh that would have made His Word void, and He secured His purpose, however faulty the people were who remembered it. They turned to unworthy tricks to correct the wrong and secure His promise. So each of them came under His righteous chastening for their crooked scheming. God loves dearly, but He rebukes and chastises.
- Taste. Isaac loved Esau because venison suited his taste — a preference built on appetite, not on God's word.
- Blindness. The taste dimmed the inner eye: dim sight in verse 1 matched dim judgement about God's revealed will.
- Misuse. Isaac carried that appetite into a sacred act, calling for the food of mere nature to fuel the last service of a patriarchal priest.
- Discipline. God used the same savoury meat to deceive and humble Isaac. He did God's will almost against himself.
- Faithfulness. Both the favouritism and the scheming came under chastening, yet the promise stood. God rebukes those He loves, and His Word holds.
and prepare me a savoury dish such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat, in order that my soul may bless thee before I die.
Isaac is old and blind. He is about to do the most solemn act of his life — passing on the blessing. Yet the scene opens with him asking for a favourite dish. And the son he means to bless is the one God had already set aside.
(Where the writers quote "savoury meat," the ESV reads "delicious food.")
The words "such as I love" show what was driving Isaac. One writer sets the two brothers' bargains side by side.
Here we find the aged Isaac standing, as it were, at the very door of eternity. The earth and nature were fast fading from his view. Yet he was taken up with "savoury meat," and about to act in direct opposition to God's counsel by blessing the elder instead of the younger. Truly this was nature, and nature with its "eyes dim." If Esau had sold his birthright for a bowl of stew, Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a plate of venison. How very humiliating!
The chapter opens by telling us Isaac could not see. One writer reads that detail as a sign of something deeper.
In spite of Esau's wrong marriages, and in spite of God's word that Isaac's older son would serve the younger (Gen. 25:23), Isaac was ready to give his chief blessing to Esau. Verse 1 tells us his eyes were dim. No doubt his spiritual eyes were dim also. This was clearly because he let his natural appetite take priority over the revealed will of God (Gen. 25:28). But to bless Esau, he first wanted him to take his bow and quiver of arrows, hunt deer, and bring him cooked venison — "such as I love," he adds (v. 4).
Blessing his sons was Isaac's last act as priest of the family. That is what makes the menu so jarring.
He was about to do the last religious act of a father who served as priest for his family. And he calls for wine and strong drink — the food of mere nature — to stir him up and fill him for the service of the temple! … We may all be conscious how much of nature stains our holy things. We may see how much of the excitement of the flesh we may mistake for the easy, strong current of the Spirit. We may know this in the places of communion, but it is to be our sorrow; we confess it as evil and weakness, and we watch against it. But think of preparing for it. To mix the wine and the strong drink with such care, and to take a hearty drink in this deliberate way — surely this is a shameful thing.
Later in the chapter a thin disguise fools Isaac. One writer blames this not on his eyes but on his broken communion with God. The same writer reads "that my soul may bless you" as simply handing over the blessing.
How did Isaac fall for such a clumsy trick? He knew the voice. Were the neck and wrists covered with goatskin a surer test than the voice? No man of the world with common sense would have fallen for it. How did it happen? He was not in communion with God, and the crudest tricks can fool a believer who is out of communion. His thoughts were fleshly; his soul loved venison, and the savoury meat blinded his mind. "Bring me savoury meat, that my soul may bless you" — give you the blessing — "before I die."
The dish Isaac asked for becomes the very thing God uses to correct him.
But God will subdue nature, unjudged nature, and in Isaac too! And not only this — so perfect and complete are God's ways! That very indulgence had twisted Isaac's mind and judgment. Now God will use it as the direct instrument to discipline him. God lets him be deceived. The "savoury meat" turned his mind away from sound judgment. And by the "savoury meat" he is made, without knowing it, to act according to the will of God.
Isaac says "before I die." He was not near the end at all, and the New Testament's verdict on this scene is a surprise.
Here is the crisis of his ways, when his foot had nearly slipped in the matter of his two sons (Gen. 27). Grace overruled here; and he was saved, yet so as through fire. How striking that such a scene should be singled out to his praise in Hebrews 11:20! "By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau even concerning things to come." Isaac lived many years after this; but Scripture records only his death and burial.
- Appetite. "Such as I love" exposes the motive: Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a plate of venison.
- Blindness. His dim eyes matched a dim judgment. Appetite mattered more to him than God's word that the elder would serve the younger.
- Deception. The crudest trick can fool a believer who is out of communion. The savoury meat blinded Isaac's mind before the goatskin ever touched his hands.
- Discipline. God used the very indulgence that twisted Isaac's judgment as the tool to correct him. Isaac carried out God's will without knowing it.
- Blessing. Grace overruled Isaac's failure, and Hebrews 11:20 singles out this very scene as his praise.
And Rebecca heard when Isaac spoke to Esau his son. And Esau went to the field to hunt venison, to bring it.
Isaac is old and blind. He calls Esau in to arrange a blessing that God had already promised to the younger son. One small detail changes everything: Rebekah is listening. What she overhears starts a scheme that follows Jacob for the rest of his life.
Isaac's blindness is stated plainly in the chapter, but commentators see a deeper failure behind the plan he was making. He was about to hand the chief blessing to the son God had already passed over.
Despite Esau's wrong marriages, and despite God's word that Isaac's older son would serve the younger (Gen. 25:23), Isaac was ready to give his chief blessing to Esau. Verse 1 tells us that his eyes were dim, and no doubt his spiritual eyes were dim also. This was evidently because he let his natural appetite come before the revealed will of God (Gen. 25:28).
Isaac had every reason to know better. Esau had already shown what he thought of his place in the family.
Then again, did not Esau, when he was old enough to know better, sell his birthright for one meal? And was this profane act not made worse by his indifference? The chosen family were bound to stay separate before Jehovah, among the doomed races who held the land. His Hittite wives were a bitterness of spirit to both parents: how sad that the father should now treat it so lightly!
What she overheard alarmed her, and the alarm was not unreasonable. The problem was what she did with it.
But, if we look ahead, Isaac's words filled Rebekah with alarm. She no longer asked Jehovah, as she had in days when her faith was more alive. She listened instead to plan her own wretched deceit, and so defeat the wrong her husband had in mind.
Another road was open to her: a straight appeal to her husband.
Had she looked to God instead of to her feeble husband and her favourite son, how different everything would have been! Even Abraham listened to Sarah's voice when he was deeply moved about Ishmael. How much more should Rebekah have counted on an appeal to Isaac's conscience! God's own word, given before the twins were born, stood behind her: "the older shall serve the younger."
The whole scheme rests on an assumption — that unless somebody acted, God's word would fail.
Jacob's history brings out two great points. On one side is God's purpose of grace. On the other is nature plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would have brought about for certain, without any plot or scheme at all... God did not need the help of such things as Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the older shall serve the younger." This was enough — enough for faith, but not enough for nature.
What would faith have done instead?
If they had acted in faith and depended on God, they might have seen a miraculous answer to the problem. Then they would have had reason for the deepest thanksgiving, instead of troubled consciences.
The years after the blessing show what the scheme cost Jacob.
Anyone who looks at Jacob's life after he obtained his father's blessing by stealth will see that he enjoyed very little worldly happiness. His brother planned to murder him, so he had to flee from his father's house. His uncle Laban deceived him, as he had deceived his father, and treated him harshly... Next he had to grieve over the treachery and cruelty of Simeon and Levi towards the Shechemites. Then he lost his beloved wife. Then his own sons deceived him, and he had to mourn Joseph's supposed early death.
Scripture records the failure of every person in the room, and it does so on purpose.
The Scriptures do not spare us the needed lesson of what man is, even elect man. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit. Many believers are slow to admit that flesh is no better in them than in the patriarchal family... But what a God we have to do with! His purpose of grace is unmoved — otherwise it could never stand. His righteousness never changes, and it chastened every one of them for good even now, yet with pain because of their sins, so that they might not be condemned with the world.
- Dim sight. Isaac's failing eyes matched a failing grip on God's word. Appetite, not the promise, was steering the blessing.
- Overheard. Rebekah had reason to be alarmed; her answer to it had none. She listened to plan, when she could have prayed or appealed to her husband.
- Unneeded help. God had already said the older would serve the younger. Faith would have waited; nature schemed for what the promise guaranteed anyway.
- Same result, worse road. Jacob got the blessing either way. The scheme added only a troubled conscience where thanksgiving could have been.
- Reaped for years. Flight, Laban's deceit, family treachery and grief followed. Yet God's purpose stood unmoved, and He chastened each of them for good.
And Rebecca spoke to Jacob her son, saying, Behold, I heard thy father speak to Esau thy brother, saying,
Isaac has just told Esau to hunt game, so that he can eat and then bless him. Rebekah overheard it. What she does next raises a hard question: when someone is about to act against God's word, may you step in and fix it yourself?
The blessing Isaac planned to give was already promised to Jacob. Before the twins' birth, God had said the older would serve the younger. Isaac was setting that aside out of favouritism for Esau. One commentator weighs the husband's blindness and the wife's answer to it:
For the time, Isaac was blind in the eyes of his heart — worse than in his physical sight. His foolish favouritism went so far as to thwart the declared mind of God. And this Rebekah overheard and sought to counteract with a woman's craft and quick ability to find a way. Had she looked to God instead of her feeble husband and her fond son, how different everything would have been!
Years earlier, troubled about the twins, Rebekah had gone and asked the Lord. This time she did not.
We may assume that Rebekah acted on impulse. She was working against her husband's forgetfulness of the Lord's word, and against Esau's profane and evil character. Who can suppose that she "went to enquire of Jehovah," as she did when the signs troubled her before the twins were born? … But even if her judgment was right, how sad that she spoiled it! She spoiled it by the means she used. She spoiled it also by drawing her beloved child, the object of divine promise, into conduct so unworthy of faith!
An honest word to her husband was the road she did not take:
She of all people best knew Isaac's piety. And she surely remembered, more vividly than anyone, God's own sentence that the older should serve the younger. So her failure was the more serious. She would not be open with her husband in Jehovah's name — and He would have blessed everyone around, instead of having to chastise.
Rebekah read God's purpose right. Her method was the failure.
Rebekah was just as determined that Jacob should have the blessing. But her way of getting it was not of faith. Faith would have quietly trusted God. The One who had promised was faithful, and able to do it. Yet she favoured Jacob out of mere nature, just as Isaac favoured Esau.
Another writer sets faith and nature side by side:
God did not need help from things like Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the elder shall serve the younger." That was enough — enough for faith. It was not enough for nature. Nature must always take its own way, and knows nothing of waiting on God.
In this verse Rebekah brings the plan to Jacob. What she taught him outlasted that day:
Rebekah knew what God's purpose was. But she was anxious for her favourite son to have the blessing, so she took up a planned course of deceit to trick her blind husband. She instigated the deceit and Jacob practised it with success. Later events in Jacob's life show him to be a master of clever and even underhand schemes. It is a sobering thought that his earliest recorded lesson in it came from his mother.
The scheme worked. Both mother and son then lived with what it cost:
She was the prime mover in taking a wrong way to gain a right end. So she had most to feel the chastening of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after what is recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and his mother never saw her beloved child again. He too suffered for sorrowful years under the crafty cheating schemes of his mother's brother, his own father-in-law.
- Overheard. Rebekah heard Isaac about to give Jacob's promised blessing to Esau. She was right that something was wrong.
- Unasked. She had once asked the Lord about these very sons. This time she schemed instead of praying, and never appealed to Isaac's conscience with God's word.
- Unneeded. God had already said the older would serve the younger. That promise would stand, so her scheming added nothing.
- Passed on. Her scheme gave Jacob his first lesson in deceit, and he became a master of it.
- Repaid. The one who moved first felt the chastening most. Rebekah never saw her son again, and he spent years under her brother's cheating.
Bring me venison, and prepare me a savoury dish, that I may eat, and bless thee before Jehovah, before my death.
Rebekah has just overheard Isaac promise the family blessing to Esau, over a meal, before he dies. That blessing was a solemn act before God — and it was about to fall on the wrong son.
The blessing Isaac planned was not a fond farewell speech. A father then spoke over his children in two offices at once.
Blessing the children was an act done in the combined virtues of a prophet and a priest, and, as we see, the fathers of the families held both in their own persons. They received the mind of God, and then spoke it out as "oracles of God." And, being set apart as priestly representatives of God to their children, they pronounced His blessing, God's blessing, on them.
Rebekah's report puts God's own name in Isaac's mouth. "The LORD" here stands for the name Jehovah. One writer asks whether Isaac really said it, or whether Moses just wrote a later name into an old story.
Granted that Moses uses the name Jehovah throughout the book of Genesis, are we to suppose that he put it into the mouth of Abram in Genesis 14:22, or his servant in 24:12, or Isaac in 27:7, or Jacob in 28:16? Above all, did Moses put it into the mouth of God Himself? Genesis 15:7. That is enough to correct the claim.
God had already said the older would serve the younger, and Esau had already traded his birthright away. Isaac's plan ignores both.
Here we find aged Isaac standing at the very door of eternity. The earth and nature are fast fading from his view. Yet he is taken up with "tasty food," and is about to act in direct opposition to God's counsel by blessing the elder instead of the younger. This was nature, and nature with its "eyes dim." Esau had sold his birthright for a bowl of stew; now Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a dish of game. How very humiliating!
She was right about the danger. Everything she did next was wrong.
For the time, Isaac was blind in the eyes of his heart, worse than in his physical sight. His foolish favouritism would thwart the declared mind of God. Rebekah overheard this and set out to block it with a woman's craft and quick invention. Had she looked to God instead of her feeble husband and the son she doted on, how different everything would have been! ... But this time she did not ask the LORD, as she had done before. She gave way to a low deceit. It was as sinful before God as it was dishonouring to her husband and to herself, and she took no thought of how it would corrupt the very heir of the promise.
The whole plan rests on one assumption: that unless somebody acts, God's word will fail.
God did not need help from things like Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the older shall serve the younger." That was enough. It was enough for faith, but not enough for nature. Nature must always take its own way, and knows nothing of what it is to wait on God.
The blessing did go to Jacob. The wrong road still had to be paid for.
Isaac had no curse to call down on Rebekah. But she was the prime mover in the wrong way to gain a right end, so she had most to feel the discipline of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after what is recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and his mother never saw her beloved child again. He too had years of sorrow, suffering under the cunning cheating schemes of his mother's brother, his own father-in-law. No human being shall or can boast. The only boast left is in the LORD. He never fails. When everyone else failed, as here, He alone carried out His purpose in mercy and wisdom.
- Word. God had already spoken: the older would serve the younger. Everything in this chapter is a reaction to a word that was never in danger.
- Appetite. Isaac's mind was on a good meal. He was about to trade the blessing away for a dish of game.
- Overheard. Rebekah heard right and judged right. Her failure was where she took it: to her own scheming, not to God.
- Help. God needed no help. Their cunning did not move His purpose one inch. It only brought sin and dishonour on the people who used it.
- Harvest. A right end reached by a wrong road still costs. Rebekah never saw Jacob again, and Jacob was later cheated by his own father-in-law — yet God's purpose stood.
And now, my son, hearken to my voice in that which I command thee.
Rebekah has overheard Isaac's plan to bless Esau. Her answer is a set of instructions for Jacob, and a command to follow her voice — which raises the question the whole story turns on: whose word do you trust when God has already promised the blessing?
God told Rebekah before the twins were born that the older would serve the younger. Now, facing Isaac's plan, she did not go back to Him. One writer notes the change:
We may assume that Rebekah acted on impulse in getting round her husband's forgetfulness of the Lord's word, and Esau's profane and evil character. Who can suppose that she "went to inquire of the LORD," as she did when troubled by appearances before the twins were born? The sly Syrian character of her family asserted itself, in the assurance that Isaac was altogether in the wrong. But if she was right in her judgment, how sad to spoil it! She spoiled it by her own way of carrying it out, and by drawing her beloved child, the child of God's promise, into conduct so unworthy of faith.
Rebekah wanted what God wanted. The goal was right; the way she took was not:
But God's purpose must stand, and He will do all His pleasure. Faith knows this; and, knowing it, can wait for God's time. Nature never can do this, but must set about gaining its own ends by its own inventions... God did not need the aid of such things as Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the older shall serve the younger." This was enough — enough for faith, but not enough for nature.
Jacob walked away with the blessing, so it looks as if the trick worked. One writer sees it the other way round:
Jacob's deceit is not what gets him the blessing. It gets him nothing but twenty years of toil and sorrow, banishment from his father's house, and life under the will of others. The blessing could not be Esau's. Were Isaac or Esau greater than God, that they could change His purpose? Or did He need Jacob's feeble hand to hold up His throne? Sadly, he is neither the first nor the last to act as if it were so. And this is what restlessness and impatience mean. Either there is some desire of the heart we must have whether He wills it or not, or there is some doubt whether God is truly God. It is rank unbelief or rank self-will, and these are close companions.
Rebekah gave the order. Does that take the blame off Jacob?
One writer defends Jacob in this whole matter, saying that Jacob was responsible to obey his mother, so no blame could attach to him! But Jacob was a grown man, not a little child. In fact, even a little child is wrong to tell a lie, whether his mother tells him to or not.
Jacob did hesitate. But his worry was the outcome, not the sin:
Even Jacob felt and voiced his misgivings. He feared that his mother's deceit, which he was about to carry out, would bring a curse from his father instead of a blessing. But Rebekah's will was set too firmly on her plan, and she showed real skill in guarding her son from the danger he expected. In neither of them do we find conscience at work.
Rebekah told Jacob to let any curse fall on her instead:
Isaac certainly had no curse to call down on Rebekah. But as she was the prime mover in the wrong way to gain a right end, she had most to feel the chastening of God's unfailing moral government. For soon after the events recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east; and the mother never saw her beloved child again. He too had to smart through sorrowful years under the crafty cheating schemes of his mother's brother, his own father-in-law. No one will boast; no one can... He never fails; and when everyone else failed, as here, He alone carries out His purpose in mercy and wisdom.
The promise survived. It arrived weighed down:
"The older shall serve the younger" was God's word in Jacob's favour, before the children were born. But Jacob did not wait in the patience of faith until the Lord made His promise good in His own time and way. So the promise gets loaded with reservations, difficulties and burdens. It will certainly be made good in the end; but because of this way of Jacob's, his unbelief and scheming, the older will give the younger much trouble.
- Promise. God had already settled it: the older would serve the younger. Rebekah schemed for what He had guaranteed.
- Impulse. She had once asked the Lord. This time she acted on her own judgment — right about Isaac's error, wrong about the cure.
- Excuse. A mother's instruction does not make a lie lawful; Jacob was a grown man, and his hesitation shows he knew it.
- Emptiness. The deceit won nothing the promise had not already won. It cost Jacob twenty years of exile and hard work.
- Government. The promise stood, but came loaded with burdens. Rebekah never saw her son again. God kept His word and still chastened the shortcut.
Go, I pray thee, to the flock, and fetch me thence two good kids of the goats. And I will make of them a savoury dish for thy father, such as he loves.
Isaac has asked Esau to hunt him a meal of wild game, after which he will bless him. Rebekah overhears, and sends Jacob to the flock instead — which raises the question of the whole chapter: what happens when someone who knows God's promise tries to secure it herself?
Why goats, when Isaac had asked for wild game?
Rebekah had Jacob kill two young goats. Their meat would be young and tender (v. 9), and she could prepare it so well that Isaac never suspected it was not venison. So much for our preconceived ideas of what we like the best!
The same animal had a place in Israel's worship:
A kid of the goats is constantly mentioned for the sin offering. Numbers 7:16-87, and so on. As food, the kid counts as a delicacy. Rebekah used kids to prepare the tasty dish that passed for venison, and with it Jacob deceived his father. Genesis 27:9.
Rebekah was not wrong about the outcome. God had said the older would serve the younger, and Isaac was working against that word. Her fault lay somewhere else.
Isaac knew the Word of God, "the older shall serve the younger," yet he wanted to bless Esau. This was failure on his side. Yet he blessed Jacob by faith (Hebrews 11:20). Rebekah wants to fall in line with what God had declared, but she uses sinful means. She tries to help God fulfil His Word by her own schemes. Jacob obeys his mother and makes use of the deception. Esau deceives too, for he claimed a blessing to which he had no right before God and man. This chapter shows the flesh and its sinful ways in full. Still, God carried out His will.
She had another way open to her.
When Rebekah overheard these instructions, she saw an emergency coming. The Lord had told her that Jacob would have the chief place. But instead of going to Him in prayer, she took the only way she saw to change things. Her plan did work the way she wanted, and no doubt God was over this. But we still cannot defend her cunning scheme to deceive her husband. God could have worked the matter out another way, without drawing Rebekah and Jacob into deception. If they had acted in faith and depended on God, they might have seen a miraculous answer to the problem. Then they would have had reason for the deepest thanksgiving, instead of troubled consciences.
She could also have spoken to Isaac himself:
She of all people knew best how devoted to God Isaac was. She surely remembered God's own decree, that the older should serve the younger. That made it a graver failure in her not to be open with her husband in Jehovah's name. He would have blessed them all, instead of having to discipline them.
The command in this verse is given to a son who later became famous for exactly this kind of manoeuvring.
Rebekah, on the other hand, knew what God's purpose was, but in her anxiety for the blessing of her favourite she resorted to a calculated course of deceit in order to trick her blind husband. She instigated the deceit and Jacob practised it with success. Later episodes in Jacob's life reveal him to us as a man who was a master of artful and even underhand designs. It is a solemn thought that he got the earliest recorded lesson in this kind of thing from his mother.
The goats gave more than a meal. Their skins had a use too — and years later the same trick found Jacob again.
Jacob deceives his father with the skins of goats, and in the years to come his own sons will deceive him with the blood of a goat. The sovereign grace by which we are blessed does not alter that memorable law: "Whatever one sows, that will he also reap" (Galatians 6:7).
Rebekah paid too, and she paid for the rest of her life:
As she was the prime mover in the wrong way to gain a right end, so she had most to feel the discipline of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after the events recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east. His mother never saw her beloved child again.
- Promise. Rebekah had God's word that the older would serve the younger. She was not chasing something God had refused her.
- Panic. She heard the threat, and instead of praying or speaking openly to Isaac, she reached for the flock and a recipe.
- Plot. Two young goats served twice over: the meat passed for game, and the skins helped fool a blind father.
- Price. Jacob deceived his father, and his own sons later deceived him with a goat. Rebekah never saw him again.
- Purpose. The flesh fills this chapter, and God still carried out His will — through discipline, not because the scheming helped.
And thou shalt bring [it] to thy father, that he may eat, in order that he may bless thee before his death.
Rebekah's plan ends here. Jacob is to carry the dish in, let his blind father eat, and walk out with the blessing meant for his brother. The plan worked. But the verse leaves a question hanging: if God had already promised the blessing, why grab it by a trick?
Rebekah was right about who should be blessed. God had said the older would serve the younger, and Isaac was moving against it. Her fault was the method, and what it cost the son she loved.
We may assume that Rebekah acted on impulse. She was working around her husband's forgetfulness of the Lord's word, and around Esau's profane and evil character. Who can suppose that she "went to inquire of the LORD," as she did when she was troubled before the twins were born? Her family's crafty Syrian streak showed itself: she was sure Isaac was completely in the wrong. But even if her judgment was right, how sad to spoil it! She spoiled it by the means she used, and even more by drawing her beloved child, the child of God's promise, into conduct so unworthy of faith!
One course was open to her that cost nothing, and she never took it.
When Rebekah overheard these instructions, she saw an emergency coming. The Lord had told her that Jacob would have the chief place. But instead of going to Him in prayer, she took the only way she could see to change things. Her plan did work out as she wanted, and no doubt God was over this. Still, we cannot defend her cunning scheme to deceive her husband... If they had acted in faith and leaned on God, they might have seen a miraculous answer to the problem. Then they would have had reason for deepest thanksgiving, instead of troubled consciences.
The scheme was not only wrong. It was also unnecessary.
God did not need help from Rebekah's cunning or Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "The older shall serve the younger." That was enough — enough for faith, but not enough for nature. Nature must always take its own way, and knows nothing of waiting on God.
His mother's coaching does not excuse Jacob. He wanted the blessing and believed in it, and that made his sin worse, not lighter.
Jacob behaved badly under his mother's crooked advice, doing evil so that good might come. Yet he truly valued what the Almighty had done and promised in words that could not lie. That made the sin all the greater. Son and mother alike distrusted Him, and they did so while Isaac was making his unworthy attempt to indulge his favourite against the Lord's purpose.
Rebekah did not foresee that this dish would be the last meal she ever cooked for her son.
Rebekah was the prime mover in taking a wrong way to gain a right end, so she had most to feel the chastening of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after the events recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and his mother never saw her beloved child again. Jacob too had to suffer through sorrowful years under the crafty cheating schemes of his mother's brother, who was his own father-in-law.
No one in the household escaped the fallout of that afternoon.
As a result of all this corruption and deceit, Isaac has to send Jacob away from home... Esau becomes a sorrow to his parents. And Jacob, for twenty years, becomes a wanderer in a strange land, shut out from his father's home and from the Land of Promise.
The chapter is ugly, and Scripture does not soften it.
Genesis 27 shows us a deeply humbling picture of sensuality, deceit, and cunning... Yet how true and faithful is the Holy Spirit! He must tell the whole story. He cannot give us half a picture. If He gives us a history of man, He must describe man as he is, and not as he is not.
Jacob still ended up with the blessing. The reason lies outside anything he or his mother did.
It is by grace Jacob comes in, because he had no title... Jacob did value the promise, though the means by which he got it were evil.
- Promise — God's word had already pledged the blessing. The meal and the lie added nothing to it.
- Panic — Rebekah heard a threat and acted. She never tried prayer, the one way that could not fail.
- Pressure — she deceived her husband, and she drew her son into the deceit with her. She taught him to reach for God's gift by man's trick.
- Price — she won the blessing for Jacob and lost Jacob. Her own brother later cheated the cheat, and the home broke up for twenty years.
- Purpose — Scripture records the sin instead of hiding it, and God's choice still stood. Jacob held the blessing by grace, never by title.
And Jacob said to Rebecca his mother, Behold, Esau my brother is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man.
Rebekah has just laid out her plan, and Jacob answers with the one difficulty he can see: his skin. His answer raises the questions this chapter turns on. What was he afraid of? Why did a family that knew God's promise reach for a disguise? What did it cost them?
Jacob does not argue with his mother about right and wrong. He raises a practical problem: his smooth skin will give him away. The danger he names is a curse on himself, and one writer notes that his fear went no further:
Even Jacob felt and voiced his doubts. He was afraid that the deceit of his mother, which he was about to carry out, would bring a curse from his father instead of a blessing. But Rebekah was too set on her scheme. She showed real skill in guarding her son from the danger he expected. In neither of them do we find conscience at work, still less any reckoning on God's gracious power...
God had already said the older would serve the younger. Jacob's problem was not that he doubted the promise, but that he would not wait for it.
But God's purpose must stand, and He will do all His pleasure. Faith knows this, and in the power of that knowledge can wait for God's time. Nature never can do this, but must set about gaining its own ends by its own inventions. Jacob's history brings out two great points. On one side is God's purpose of grace. On the other is nature plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose was certain to bring about without any plot or scheme at all... God did not need the help of Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose.
Rebekah brushed his hesitation aside. So what could she have done instead? One writer answers, and names what the family lost:
When Rebekah overheard these instructions, she saw an emergency coming. But she did not go in prayer to the Lord, who had told her that Jacob would have the chief place. Instead she took the only way she saw to change things... God could have worked the matter out another way, without drawing both Rebekah and Jacob into deception. If they had acted in faith and depended on God, they might have seen a miraculous answer to the problem. They would then have had reason for the deepest thanksgiving, instead of troubled consciences.
The disguise is ugly. But notice what Jacob wanted so badly that he would risk a curse for it.
Jacob showed that he was not profane like Esau. He made much of the divine promise and blessing; but, not resting on God for its fulfilment, he used merely human means to deceive Isaac.
Jacob was never cursed by his father. But the scheme still came back on the family, and on Rebekah first, who had offered to take any curse herself.
Isaac had no curse to call down on Rebekah. But she was the prime mover in gaining a right end by a wrong way, so she had most to feel the chastening of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after this event Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and the mother never saw her beloved child again. Jacob too suffered for years under the cunning cheating schemes of his mother's brother, who was also his father-in-law.
The disguise fooled Isaac. It decided nothing:
Is God going to be thwarted? Is He going to be hindered in His purposes? Never! Isaac himself gives the fullest blessing to Jacob. He did not realise it at the time, but he spoke with the full sense of authority — and all the while he thought it was Esau... It is a striking illustration of the power of divine purpose. Here is a man who, against his own intention, gives the blessing exactly where God would have it! I do not go into Jacob's scheming, or Rebekah's. He paid dearly for it all. God had no need of his deception.
- Promise. God had already settled it: the older would serve the younger. The only open question was how people would get there.
- Impatience. Faith waits for God's time. Nature cannot wait, so it plots to get what the promise would have given anyway.
- Disguise. Jacob's one objection is that his skin will betray him — not that the plan is wrong. He fears the curse of being caught, not the sin.
- Cost. The scheme worked, and it still cost them. Rebekah never saw her son again. His father-in-law cheated Jacob for years.
- Purpose. Isaac blessed the right son while meaning to bless the other. God needed no help. Prayer would have brought thanksgiving instead of a troubled conscience.
My father perhaps will feel me, and I shall be in his sight as one who mocks [him], and I shall bring a curse on me, and not a blessing.
Rebekah has just told Jacob how to disguise himself and take his brother's blessing. His one objection is practical: his skin is smooth, his father may feel it, and the trick may fail.
Jacob does push back against Rebekah. But notice what he never says: that the plan is wrong, or that God forbids it. One writer names what is missing from the protest:
Jacob feebly opposes his mother's urging, but not in the name of God or of truth. He dreads getting a curse instead of a blessing — "seeming a deceiver," rather than being one. He makes the whole question one of what works, not of what is right, and so has no power at all; or rather, he has already fallen.
It is easy to mistake nervousness for a working conscience. Jacob's fear was real, yet it did not turn him back. Neither he nor his mother counted on God to act for them:
Even Jacob felt his qualms and spoke them out. He feared that his mother's deceit, which he was about to carry out, would draw down a curse from his father instead of a blessing. But Rebekah's will was too committed to her scheme; and she showed no little skill in protecting her son from the danger he foresaw. In neither of them do we find conscience at work, still less any reckoning on God's gracious power to bring to nothing Isaac's merely natural plan to hand on the right to the Lord's blessing — the blessing Jacob truly valued, and Esau valued less than a single meal.
The whole scheme was unnecessary. God had already promised the blessing to Jacob. He was scheming to get what was already his.
How little Jacob knew, at the start of his history, of this blessed mind! How little he was prepared to wait for God's time and God's way! He much preferred Jacob's time and Jacob's way. He thought it far better to reach the blessing and the inheritance by all kinds of cunning and deception than by simply depending on God and submitting to Him. It was God whose electing grace had promised it, and whose almighty power and wisdom would surely bring all of it about for him.
Jacob's desire was not the problem; his method was. Another writer admires the one and not the other:
I do not admire the way Jacob got the birthright; still, he prized what Esau despised. God meant him to have it; but Jacob schemed and bargained for it in an unworthy and unbrotherly way... God had already purposed that the blessing should be his; but Jacob was not content to wait on God for it.
Rebekah answers his fear by offering to take the curse herself. One writer weighs that pressure against a higher claim:
For conscience speaks to one's own soul, and it always points to God. His relationship to us is the closest and carries the most authority. A man must not contradict it or push it aside, even for the mother who bore him. Here Rebekah, a godly woman, was so eager for this cunning plan that she showed her own self-will. She boldly offered to take Jacob's curse on herself instead of a blessing, if his father should discover the fraud (vv. 12, 13). But her persistence overruled, or at least silenced, his fears.
Jacob never received the curse he feared from his father. Something else came instead:
He certainly got the blessing his father gave. As Hebrews 11:20 shows, there was an element of faith in it, and it was according to the purpose of God. Yet he did not get divine blessing by scheming of this shabby kind. What he got was an unpleasant chain of consequences that tangled him in lifelong difficulties. He came definitely under the discipline of God.
Rebekah offered to carry the curse, and in her own way she did. Jacob soon left for the east, and she never saw her favourite son again. He then spent years under the cheating schemes of her brother, his own father-in-law (William Kelly).
- Promise — God had already settled that the blessing was Jacob's. Nothing Jacob did that day added to it.
- Impatience — he chose "Jacob's time and Jacob's way" over God's. Every scheme like this starts there.
- Expediency — his objection weighs the odds of being caught, not the wrong of the act. He fears seeming a deceiver more than being one.
- Pressure — Rebekah offers to bear the curse, and Jacob's last qualm dies. No human voice, not even a parent's, outranks God's claim on the conscience.
- Discipline — the blessing came, and so did lifelong difficulties. God keeps His promise and still corrects the way we grab at it.
And his mother said to him, On me [be] thy curse, my son! Only hearken to my voice, and go, fetch [them].
Jacob has just objected that the trick could be found out, bringing him a curse instead of a blessing. His mother answers by taking that curse on herself and repeating her order. Two hard questions follow. Can a parent's command make a son's lie safe? Can human scheming help God's promise along?
Rebekah already had God's word that Jacob would have the chief place. The trouble starts with what she did when a crisis came.
When Rebekah overheard these instructions, she saw an emergency coming. The Lord had told her that Jacob would have the chief place. Yet instead of going to Him in prayer, she took the only way she saw to change things. Her plan did work out the way she wanted, and no doubt God was over this. Still, we cannot defend her cunning scheme to deceive her husband. God could have worked things out another way, without drawing Rebekah and Jacob into deception.
Her answer rests on her authority as a mother, plus a promise to carry the fallout. Does that make the lie hers instead of his?
Jacob was hesitant about the whole scheme. Rebekah urged him to obey her, and said she would bear the results if the plan went wrong. One writer defends Jacob in this whole matter. He says Jacob had a duty to obey his mother, so no blame could attach to him! But Jacob was a grown man, not a little child. In fact, even a little child is wrong to tell a lie, whether his mother tells him to or not.
Rebekah is not an unbeliever here. She wants the right thing and reaches for it the wrong way.
There is a strange mixture of faith and unbelief in Rebekah and Jacob. Both had faith enough to value the blessing, but not enough to trust God for it. So they seek to secure it by deceit. So Jacob lives up to his name, "supplanter." He reaps a bitter harvest from all his sowing. He is himself deceived in much the same way, and over a favourite son, just as he had deceived his father Isaac.
Rebekah offers to absorb whatever goes wrong. No curse from Isaac ever reached her — but the cost still landed on her, in a form she never imagined.
"Let your curse be on me, my son; only obey my voice," said Rebekah. Isaac had no curse to call down on Rebekah. But she led the way in using a wrong method to reach a right end, so she had the most to feel of the discipline of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after the events recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and his mother never saw her beloved child again. Jacob suffered too. For sorrowful years his mother's brother, who was also his father-in-law, cheated him with crafty schemes.
The blessing did land on Jacob. But what he gained by fraud came with a long bill attached.
Genesis 27 records the cunning way Jacob, urged on by his mother, deceived his blind father and took Esau's place in the blessing. He lied both in word and in action... As for Jacob, he did get the family blessing handed down from father to son. As Hebrews 11:20 shows, that blessing had an element of faith in it, and it matched the purpose of God. Yet scheming of this shabby kind did not win him God's blessing. What it won him was an unpleasant chain of consequences that tangled him in lifelong difficulties. He came under God's discipline.
So what made the blessing his?
Jacob got the blessing by deceiving his blind father, but he could not have secured it had it not been the will of God that it should be his. Had he known God better he would have left it all in His hands, and he would have saved himself many a sorrow of heart.
- Promise. God had already told Rebekah that Jacob would have the chief place. Her scheme added nothing to that.
- Panic. Rebekah heard of a threat and moved straight to a plan instead of prayer. God could have worked it out another way.
- Pressure. "Only obey my voice" is a mother's authority used to silence a son's conscience — and a lie stays a lie whoever orders it.
- Price. She offered to carry the curse. What she carried instead was a son sent away and never seen again — while her brother cheated Jacob for years.
- Purpose. The blessing was God's to give, not Jacob's to steal. Knowing God better would have spared Jacob many a sorrow of heart.
And he went, and fetched and brought [them] to his mother. And his mother prepared a savoury dish such as his father loved.
Everyone in Genesis 27 wants something, and here Jacob joins the plan: he fetches the young goats, and his mother turns them into the meal his father loves. Why would a family that already held God's promise try to force the outcome by hand?
Jacob had objected a few verses earlier. But his worry was getting caught, not the wrong of lying:
Jacob feebly opposes his mother's urging, but not in the name of God or of truth. He dreads getting a curse instead of a blessing — seeming a deceiver, rather than being one. He makes the whole question one of expediency, not of righteousness, so he has no power at all, or rather has already fallen. His mother boldly takes the responsibility, and he has nothing more to say against it.
Some say Jacob was only doing his duty as a son. One commentator has a short answer:
One writer defends Jacob in this whole matter. He says Jacob was responsible to obey his mother, so no blame could attach to him! But Jacob was a grown man, not a little child. In fact, even a little child is wrong to tell a lie, whether his mother tells him to or not.
God had spoken about the two sons before they were born. Nothing in the kitchen that day added to it:
God did not need help like Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the elder shall serve the younger." That was enough for faith. It was not enough for nature, which must always take its own ways, and knows nothing of what it is to wait on God.
Years before the twins were born, Rebekah had gone to ask the Lord about them. This time she went to the flock instead:
We may assume that Rebekah acted on impulse. She was working around her husband's forgetfulness of the Lord's word, and around Esau's profane and evil character. Who can suppose that she "went to enquire of Jehovah," as she did when what she saw troubled her, before the twins were born? … But if she was right in her judgment, how sad to spoil it! She spoiled it by her own way of carrying it out, and by drawing her beloved child, the object of divine promise, into conduct so unworthy of faith.
The cooking was only the first of several tricks aimed at Isaac's senses:
Rebekah's clever cookery presented the flesh of the kids as though it were venison, and so deceived his taste. She produced Esau's garments and put them on Jacob, and that deceived his sense of smell. She covered Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the slain kids, and that deceived his sense of touch just as well. One sense remained, hearing, and Isaac recognised the voice as Jacob's. It was a case of three senses against one.
Another writer asks how such a clumsy trick could fool a good man. His answer looks at Isaac's own heart:
He was not in communion with God, and a saint who is not in communion is liable to be deceived by the crudest means. His thoughts were on the flesh. His soul loved venison, and the tasty dish blinded his mind.
The goats Jacob fetched here come back into his story many years later:
Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the kids of the goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with "a kid of the goats." There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes.
Rebekah planned it, and she paid the heaviest price:
She was the prime mover in a wrong way to gain a right end, so she felt most of the chastening of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after the events recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east. The mother never saw her beloved child again.
- Voice — Jacob went because he listened to his mother, not God. A parent's command does not excuse a grown man's lie.
- Motive — his one protest weighed the risk, not the wrong. He asked what would work, not what was right, so he had no strength to refuse.
- Means — God's word about the younger son was already enough for faith. The cooking, the clothes and the skins added nothing to His purpose.
- Blindness — a love of good food blinded Isaac's mind. A believer out of touch with God can be fooled by the crudest means.
- Harvest — years later Jacob's own sons deceived him with a goat, and Rebekah, who planned this, never saw her son again.
And Rebecca took the clothes of her elder son Esau, the costly ones which were with her in the house, and put them on Jacob her younger son;
Here Rebekah's plan reaches its point of no return. She takes Esau's clothes from her own house and dresses Jacob in them. God had already told her that Jacob would have the chief place. So why did she think she had to win it by disguise?
These are not everyday work clothes. One writer notes where fine clothing shows up next in this family, and what it is used for.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father, Isaac, by wearing Esau's garment. Esau's garment is called his best clothing, and since he was the elder it may have been much like Joseph's "coat of many colours." By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father; by fine clothing his sons deceived him. The measure he gave out came back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
Rebekah wanted the right outcome. Her failure was in the route she chose to it.
When Rebekah overheard these instructions, she saw an emergency coming. The Lord had already told her that Jacob would have the chief place. Yet instead of going to Him in prayer, she took the only way she saw to change things. Her plan did work the way she wanted, and no doubt God was over this. Even so, we cannot defend her cunning scheme to deceive her husband. God could have worked the matter out another way, without drawing Rebekah and Jacob into deception.
Mother and son both prized what was at stake.
There is a strange mixture of faith and unbelief in Rebekah and Jacob. Both had faith enough to value the blessing, but not enough to trust God for it. So they seek to secure it by deceit. In this way Jacob lives up to his name, "supplanter."
Some argue that Jacob only obeyed his mother, so no blame falls on him.
One writer defends Jacob in all this, saying that he had to obey his mother, so no blame could fall on him! But Jacob was a grown man, not a little child. In fact, even a little child is wrong to tell a lie, whether his mother tells him to or not. Rebekah gave Jacob Esau's clothes to wear, and goat skins for his hands and the smooth part of his neck. Jacob went ahead with the deception.
The costume worked. Success and God's approval are not the same thing.
The sovereign grace of the Lord will not set aside the faithful government of the Lord. Jacob's circumstances do not change. He still has to go his lonely way as a wanderer. He still has to spend long years of hard labour and bondage in a stranger's house, all because of his sin against his father and brother. He has to reap what he has sown. Jacob deceives his father with the skins of goats, and in the years to come his own sons will deceive him with the blood of a goat.
Rebekah, who took the clothes and put them on him, paid a price of her own.
Isaac had no curse to call down on Rebekah. But she was the one who set this in motion, a wrong way to gain a right end. So she had most to feel the chastening of God's unfailing moral government. Soon after the events recorded here, Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and his mother never saw her beloved child again.
The whole plan was unnecessary.
Is God going to be thwarted? Is He going to be hindered in His purposes? Never! Isaac himself gives the fullest blessing to Jacob. He does not realise it at the time, and he thinks he is blessing Esau, yet he speaks with full authority… I will not go into the scheming of Jacob and Rebekah. He paid a heavy price for it all. God had no need of his deception. He will carry out His purposes despite nature on the one hand or the other.
The disguise won him nothing that God had not already willed to give.
Jacob got the blessing by deceiving his blind father. But he could never have got it unless God willed it to be his. If he had known God better, he would have left it all in His hands, and would have saved himself much sorrow of heart.
- Promise — God had told Rebekah that Jacob would have the chief place. The blessing was his before he put on a single borrowed robe.
- Panic — Rebekah saw an emergency coming and reached for a scheme instead of prayer.
- Costume — Esau's best clothes and goat skins fooled a blind father. They changed nothing about God's promise.
- Cost — Jacob reaped what he sowed, deceived later by his own sons with a goat; Rebekah never saw him again.
- Conclusion — God's purpose stood anyway. The scheming gained nothing and cost years of sorrow.
and she put the skins of the kids of the goats on his hands, and on the smooth of his neck;
Here a plan turns into a disguise. Rebekah ties goat skins onto Jacob's hands and neck, so that blind Isaac will feel Esau when he reaches for his older son. If God had already said the older would serve the younger, why did the promise need a costume?
Isaac could not see, so Rebekah worked on every sense he had left. The skins covered the one sense that could still betray Jacob — his father's touch.
People have five senses, as we all know. Poor Isaac had lost one of them. His sight was gone, so he had only the other four left, and this striking story shows that all four came into play. Rebekah's clever cooking served the meat of the young goats as though it were wild game, and deceived his taste. She brought out Esau's clothes and put them on Jacob, and so deceived his sense of smell. Covering Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed goats deceived his sense of touch just as well. One sense was left, hearing, and Isaac recognized the voice as Jacob's. It was three senses against one: three said the son he could not see was Esau, and only one said it was Jacob. Isaac accepted the verdict of the majority and blessed the son he could not see.
The goat skins were unnecessary. God had already told Rebekah the outcome, and the scheming added nothing to it.
God's purpose must stand, and He will do all His pleasure. Faith knows this, and in the power of that knowledge it can wait for God's time. Nature can never do this. It must set about gaining its own ends by its own inventions. These are the two great points brought out in Jacob's history. On the one hand there is God's purpose of grace. On the other there is nature, plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would certainly have brought about without any plot or scheme at all... God did not need Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the older shall serve the younger." That was enough — enough for faith, but not enough for nature, which must always take its own ways, and knows nothing of waiting on God.
Rebekah got the result she wanted. It cost her a clear conscience.
When Rebekah overheard these instructions, she saw an emergency coming. Instead of going in prayer to the Lord, who had told her that Jacob would have the chief place, she took the only way she saw to change things. Her plan worked the way she wanted, and no doubt God was over this, but we still cannot defend her cunning scheme to deceive her husband. God could have worked it out another way, without drawing both Rebekah and Jacob into deception. If they had acted in faith and depended on God, they might have seen a miraculous answer, and had reason for deepest thanksgiving, instead of troubled consciences.
Some have read the skins as an early image of being clothed in the merit of another. Writers differ here, and one pushes back firmly on that reading:
It is notorious that the commentators are here remarkably silent; or, if they speak, they bring in Jehovah Elohim clothing Adam and Eve with the coats of skins He made for them (Genesis 3:21). Some of them add Jacob personating Esau by the kid-skins Rebekah's craft put upon his hands and neck to deceive his dim-sighted father (Genesis 27). Such applications cannot stand.
The skin of a young goat wins Jacob the blessing. The story of that goat is not finished.
These sons practiced a heartless piece of deceit on their father, which plunged the old man into the deepest sorrow, and then the hypocrites gathered round to comfort him. No one can excuse the wickedness of his sons, yet we cannot help seeing in this scene that Jacob is only reaping what he had already sown. Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats," and now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with a goat. There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes.
Nobody in this story comes out clean. Scripture records it that way on purpose.
The Scriptures do not spare us the needed lesson of what man is, even God's chosen man. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit... Every one of them showed at this point the bad moral state of his own heart. Self-indulgence in his appetite so overcame the usually blameless Isaac that he lost sight of the Lord's will and choice of Jacob. Rebekah, however right about the end in view, had no scruples about the means. Jacob did feel conscience and fear about the deceit he was to practice on his blind father, yet he dreaded a curse instead of the blessing he valued. But what a God we have to do with! He is unmoved in His purpose of grace, and unchanging in His righteousness, which chastened every one of them for good even then, though with pain because of their sins.
- Sown. The goat skins disguised Jacob from his father's touch. Three of Isaac's four remaining senses said "Esau," so he blessed the son he could not see.
- Sown in unbelief. God had already said the older would serve the younger. Nature schemed anyway for what His purpose would have given with no scheme at all.
- Sown instead of prayed. Rebekah's plan worked. Prayer could have brought a miracle and thanksgiving instead of two troubled consciences.
- Reaped. Thirty years later Jacob's own sons deceived him with a goat. The reaping may be slow, but it comes.
- Outlasted. Everyone in the story failed. God stayed unmoved in His purpose of grace, and His righteousness chastened each of them for good.
and she gave the savoury dishes and the bread that she had prepared into the hand of her son Jacob.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he came to his father, and said, My father! And he said, Here am I who art thou, my son?
Isaac is old and nearly blind, and the son who steps into his tent is not the son he asked for. His two words — "My father" — open a scene of deceit, and Isaac's reply raises the question of the chapter: does a blessing gained by a lie still count?
Isaac has to ask who is standing there because he can no longer see. One writer walks through the four senses Isaac still had, and what each one told him.
We all know that people have five senses. Poor Isaac was missing one of them. His sight was gone, so he was left with the other four, and this striking story shows that all four came into play. Rebekah's clever cooking made the meat of the young goats taste like venison, so it fooled his taste. Putting Esau's clothes on Jacob fooled his sense of smell. Covering Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed goats fooled his sense of touch. One sense remained, that of hearing, and Isaac recognised the voice as Jacob's. Three senses said the son he could not see was Esau, and only one said it was Jacob. Isaac accepted the verdict of the majority and blessed the son he could not see.
The trap worked because Isaac had set his heart on the wrong son, against what God had already said.
Both showed favouritism, as verse 28 of the previous chapter said, and their own preferences ruled them. Because Isaac had lost his sight, he expected death many years before it came. He was eager to give the blessing to Esau, even though God had made known before the twins were born that Esau was to serve Jacob. So Isaac was trying to defeat the purpose of God, and the chapter reveals how his effort failed.
Another writer finds a worse blindness in Isaac than the loss of his eyes.
For the time, Isaac was blinded in the eyes of his heart even worse than in his physical sight. It showed in his foolish favouritism, which tried to block what God had plainly declared.
Jacob answers his father's question with a flat lie. What he says next shows where a lie leads.
Jacob showed himself an expert, as if born to it. "I am Esau your firstborn," he replied to his hesitating father; "I have done as you told me." Bold lies were not enough for him. He went on to hypocritical lying, for no sin grows smaller or better the more it is used. He meets his father's surprise at how quickly the food came with his daring answer, "The LORD your God brought it to me."
Rebekah and Jacob were not indifferent to God's promise. That is what makes their conduct so strange.
There is a strange mixing of faith and unbelief in Rebekah and Jacob. Both had faith enough to value the blessing, but not enough to trust God for it. So they try to secure it by deceit. In this way Jacob lives up to his name, "supplanter." He reaps a bitter harvest from his sowing. He is deceived himself in much the same way, and over a favourite son, just as he had deceived his father Isaac.
Jacob left the tent with what he wanted. He did not leave behind the cost of how he got it.
He did get the patriarchal blessing. As Hebrews 11:20 shows, it had an element of faith in it, and it was according to the purpose of God. Yet he did not get divine blessing by scheming of this shameful kind. What he got was an unpleasant chain of consequences that tangled him in lifelong trouble. He came under the discipline of God.
Every person in this chapter fails — father, mother and son alike. The story does not end with them.
The Scriptures do not spare us the needed lesson of what man is, even chosen man. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit... But what a God we have to deal with! His purpose of grace is unmoved — otherwise it could never stand. His righteousness never changes, and it chastened every one of them for their good even now, though with pain because of their sins, so that they might not be condemned with the world.
- Blindness — Isaac had to ask who was there. The disguise fooled his taste, smell and touch. Only his hearing told the truth, and he ignored it.
- Partiality — Isaac wanted to bless Esau, against what God had already said. The deceit fell on a father who was already off course.
- Deceit — Jacob's first lie forced a second, and the second dragged God's name into the fraud.
- Discipline — Jacob got the blessing, but not by his scheming. What he sowed came back on him, and he too was deceived in later life.
- Grace — Every person here failed, and God's purpose still held. He chastened them for their good instead of casting them off.
And Jacob said to his father, I am Esau, thy firstborn. I have done according as thou didst say to me. Arise, I pray thee, sit and eat of my venison, in order that thy soul may bless me.
God had promised before the twins were born that the older would serve the younger. In this verse Jacob tries to take that promise by his own hand: he stands before his blind father in his brother's clothes and tells a flat lie.
The deception did not stop with the false name. When Isaac wondered how the food had come so fast, Jacob brought God's name into the fraud.
Jacob proved himself an expert, as though born to it. "I am Esau your firstborn," he answered his hesitating father. "I have done as you told me." Bold lies were not enough for him. He went on to hypocritical lying, for no sin grows smaller or better with use. He met his father's surprise at how quickly the food arrived with the daring reply, "Because the LORD your God granted me success." His voice raised a difficulty even for dull Isaac. But he felt the goat skins laid so cleverly over his neck and hands. He also smelled Esau's best clothes, especially after the tasty food and wine. That removed any further question from the aged father.
God had already promised the blessing. What Jacob and his mother added was not help but hurry.
But God's purpose must stand, and He will do all His pleasure. Faith knows this, and in the power of that knowledge can wait for God's time. Nature never can. It must gain its own ends by its own inventions. Jacob's history brings out two great points. On one side is God's purpose of grace. On the other is nature plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would have brought about for certain, without any plot or scheme at all. God did not need help from Rebekah's cunning or Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the older shall serve the younger." That was enough — enough for faith, but not enough for nature.
Jacob is not blamed for wanting the blessing. Esau treated it as worthless; Jacob prized it.
Then we get Jacob. He is a poor sample in any case, but he values the promise, though it is for the earth. Esau does not, and forfeits his birthright. Jacob comes in by grace, because he had no title. Esau had title, but in the election of grace the older was to serve the younger. In fact it comes about through Esau's contempt for holy things, while Jacob does value the promise, though the means by which he got it were evil.
The chapter exposes the whole family, and that is deliberate.
Scripture does not spare us the needed lesson of what man is, even elect man. It is painful reading, and meant to be. But it is full of profit. Many believers are slow to admit that the flesh is no better in them than in this family. Each of them showed the bad moral state they were in. Rebekah was right about the end in view, but she had no scruples at all about the means. Jacob had some conscience and fear about deceiving his blind father and pretending to be Esau. He dreaded a curse instead of the blessing he valued. But what a God we have to do with! His purpose of grace is unmoved. His righteousness is unchanging, and it chastened every one of them for good even then.
Isaac was not the last father in this family to be fooled by a garment.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father Isaac by wearing Esau's garment. Esau's garment is called one of his "best garments." Since he was the elder, it may have been very similar to Joseph's "robe of many colors." By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father. By fine clothing his sons deceived him. As he measured out, so it was measured back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
Jacob lied for what God had already promised him. This verse is a mirror for anyone tempted to run ahead of God.
Here Jacob tells a direct lie for his own advantage. It is another despicable form of this many-headed sin. Note too that Jacob was a child of God. The result was that he suffered the consequences of his sin for the next thirty years of his life. He gained nothing by it, for God would have given him everything in due time. Have any of my readers fallen victim to this sin? If so, I am sure they have suffered since. There can be no real restoration until that lie is confessed, not only to God but to man.
- Promised. God had said the older would serve the younger. The blessing Jacob grabbed was already his by grace, not by title.
- Impatient. Faith waits for God's time. Nature schemes for what God had already promised to give.
- Escalating. One false name led straight to a second lie that used God's name — sin never grows smaller with use.
- Governed. Jacob gained nothing by deceit. He lost thirty years to it, and his own sons later fooled him with clothing.
- Unshaken. God's purpose of grace stood through it all. His righteousness chastened every person in the story for their good.
And Isaac said to his son, How is it that thou hast found [it] so quickly, my son? And he said, Because Jehovah thy God put [it] in my way.
Isaac is suspicious. The game has come back far too quickly. Jacob's answer does more than keep the lie going. It brings God's name in to end the questions. And he says "your God," not "my God."
Jacob's first words to his father were an outright false claim to be Esau. The next answer went further, and one writer traces the slide:
He was not content with bold lies; he went on to hypocritical lying. No sin grows smaller or better with use. He meets his father's surprise at how quickly the food came with his daring answer: "The LORD your God granted me success."
The purpose of naming God here was practical: it was meant to settle the old man's doubts.
He brought the meat to his father and told him that he was Esau. Isaac wondered that Esau had found game so quickly. But Jacob hypocritically brought God's name into his deception, to make Isaac more comfortable (v. 20).
Jacob says "your God," not "my God." One writer sees here a man who knows the Name without knowing the One who bears it.
This seems to have been Jacob's first personal dealing with the Lord, though he had spoken to his father Isaac, saying, "the LORD your God" (Gen. 27:20). Like many a young man, he knew the Name of the Lord. He had heard it from his parents, and he had used it himself. But he had no personal acquaintance with the Lord yet.
Jacob wanted the blessing. What he lacked was the patience to let God give it:
How little Jacob knew, at the start of his history, of this blessed mind! How little ready he was to wait for God's time and God's way! He much preferred Jacob's time and Jacob's way. He thought it much better to reach the blessing and the inheritance by all sorts of cunning and deception than by simple dependence on God and subjection to Him. Yet this was the God whose electing grace had promised, and whose almighty power and wisdom would certainly do everything for him.
Jacob's name, "supplanter," means one who pushes another aside to take his place.
There is a strange mixture of faith and unbelief in Rebekah and Jacob. Both had faith enough to value the blessing, but not enough to trust God for it. So they seek to secure it by deceit. So Jacob lives up to his name, "supplanter." He reaps a bitter harvest from all his sowing. He himself is later deceived in much the same way, and over a favourite son, just as he had deceived his father Isaac.
One writer turns the story on the reader, and names the way back:
Note too: Jacob was a child of God. The result was that for the next thirty years he suffered from the consequences of his sin. He also gained nothing by it, for God would have given him everything in due time. Have any of my readers fallen into this sin? In a hurry to get rich, or to improve their position, or in some way to run ahead of God, have they ever told a lie from selfish motives? If so, I am sure they have suffered since. And there can be no real restoration until that lie is confessed, not only to God, but to man. Too often, sadly, one lie leads to another, as in Jacob's case.
Every person in the room is exposed — Isaac's appetite, Rebekah's scheming, Jacob's tongue — and yet the promise still stands.
But what a God we have to deal with! He is unmoved in His purpose of grace — otherwise it could never stand. He is unchanging in His righteousness. That righteousness chastened every one of them for good even now, though with pain because of their sins.
- Valued — Jacob really wanted the blessing. He had faith enough to prize it, but not enough to trust God for it.
- Shortcut — He would not wait for God's time and God's way. He preferred his own way to plain dependence on the God who had already promised.
- Cover — Jacob used God's name to quiet Isaac's suspicion. One lie grew into a hypocritical one, because no sin gets smaller with use.
- Secondhand — He says "the LORD your God," not "my God." He knows the Name from his parents. He has not yet met the Lord for himself.
- Cost, then grace — Later he is deceived just as he deceived, and he gains nothing that God would not have given him in time. Yet God's purpose of grace stands unmoved, and chastens him for good.
And Isaac said to Jacob, Come near, I pray thee, that I may feel thee, my son, whether thou be really my son Esau or not.
Isaac is blind, and a son he cannot see has just claimed to be Esau. So he reaches for the next best test — touch — and that one move decides which son gets the family blessing.
Isaac's blindness left four senses to judge for him, and here he calls up one of them. One commentator traces how the plot fooled each in turn:
We all know that people have five senses. Poor Isaac had lost one of them. With his sight gone, he was left with the other four, and this striking story shows that all four were put to work. Rebekah's clever cooking served up the meat of the young goats as if it were wild game, and so fooled his taste. She brought out Esau's clothes and put them on Jacob, and that fooled his sense of smell. Her plan of covering Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed goats fooled his sense of touch just as well. One sense was left, hearing, and Isaac recognised the voice as Jacob's. It was three senses against one. Three senses said the son he could not see was Esau, and only one said it was Jacob. Isaac accepted the majority verdict and blessed the son he could not see.
The disguise was crude, and the voice should have stopped him. One writer asks how Isaac missed it, points past his eyesight to his heart, and names the only power that could have saved him:
How did such a clumsy trick fool Isaac? He knew the voice. Were the neck and wrists, covered with the skin of a young goat, a surer test than the voice? This trick would never have fooled a sensible man of the world. How did it happen? He was not in communion with God, and the crudest of tricks can fool a believer who is out of communion. His thoughts ran after what pleased his body. His soul loved wild game, and the tasty meal blinded his mind… What blocked his faith was the lowest of bodily appetites — a liking for tasty food. Yet the lowliest enemy, like the greatest, can be beaten only by the same power, and that power is always faith in God.
The one sense that told Isaac the truth was his ear. One writer reads it as a picture with a wide reach:
Yet the majority verdict was wrong, and only the evidence of his ear was right. In this we see a picture of a very important principle: God-given faith comes by hearing. Faith is not sight, as we know. But many people seem to think faith comes by feeling. You find this not only among those who want assurance of salvation, but also among those who are saved. They would rather go by feelings or other natural senses than by simple faith in the word of God. We live in an age in which God speaks to us, not through sight or feeling, but through the hearing of faith. We can safely trust His voice, even if all our natural senses say otherwise.
Another writer turns the same scene into a simple test of where certainty comes from:
If I am in a dark cellar, I must feel my way. But if I have a light to go by, I do not have to trust my feelings. God's word is the lamp that gives us light and makes us sure. I dare not trust my feelings. Isaac trusted his feelings and was fooled… He made a disastrous mistake. He went by feelings instead of by the voice. Only the voice of God can give us certainty. And the Scriptures are the voice of God.
Isaac's request forced Jacob to keep up the act, and the deceit did not stop there. Note who taught him:
Rebekah, on the other hand, knew what God's purpose was, but in her anxiety for the blessing of her favourite she resorted to a calculated course of deceit in order to trick her blind husband. She instigated the deceit and Jacob practised it with success. Later episodes in Jacob's life reveal him to us as a man who was a master of artful and even underhand designs. It is a solemn thought that he got the earliest recorded lesson in this kind of thing from his mother.
This chapter spares nobody in the family, and yet God comes out of it unchanged:
Isaac, who was usually blameless, let his appetite get the better of him. He lost sight of how godless his elder son was, and of Jehovah's will and choice of Jacob. Rebekah was right about the goal, but she had no conscience at all about the means. Jacob did have some conscience and fear about the deceit he was about to work on his blind father… But what a God we have to deal with! He is unmoved in His purpose of grace… It may not be that He brings good out of evil, as people say. Rather, it is His own good, given to do us good, rising above every fault and dishonour.
- Blind. Isaac had lost his sight, so touch, taste and smell became his judges. Rebekah had rigged all three.
- Outvoted. Three senses said "Esau," one said "Jacob." Isaac followed the majority and got it wrong.
- Deafened. He heard the right voice and ignored it. One writer traces that dullness to a heart set on his favourite meal instead of on God.
- Lamp. A man in a dark cellar must feel his way; a man with a lamp need not. God's word is that lamp, and faith comes by hearing it.
- Unmoved. The chapter lays bare Isaac's appetite, Rebekah's scheming and Jacob's lying. Yet God's purpose of grace rises above every fault.
And Jacob drew near to Isaac his father; and he felt him, and said, The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau.
Isaac is blind. He calls his son close and tests him by touch. The test contradicts itself: his ear says one son, his hands say another. Which witness he trusts, and why, is one of Scripture's sharpest lessons on how we come to certainty.
Isaac could not see, so four senses were all he had left. Rebekah's plan aimed at each one, and only one of them told him the truth.
Rebekah's clever cooking served up the meat of young goats as if it were venison, so his taste was deceived. Putting Esau's clothes on Jacob deceived his sense of smell. Her plan of covering Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed goats fooled his sense of touch just as well. One sense remained, that of hearing, and Isaac recognized the voice as that of Jacob. It was a case of three senses against one... Isaac accepted the verdict of the majority and blessed the son he could not see.
The minority report was the right one. The same writer draws a principle out of that reversal.
Yet the majority verdict was wrong, and only the testimony of his ear was right. We see in this an allegory, illustrating a very important principle, namely that God-given faith comes by hearing. Faith is not sight, as we know... We are living in a time when God is addressing Himself, not to sight or feeling, but to the hearing of faith. We may safely trust His voice, even if all our natural senses contradict.
So how does certainty come? One writer sets feeling and God's word side by side.
If I am in a dark cellar, I must feel my way... But if I have a light to go by I do not have to trust to feelings. God's word is the lamp that gives us light and makes us certain. I dare not trust my feelings. Isaac trusted his feelings and was deceived... He made a disastrous mistake. He went by feelings, instead of being guided by the voice. The voice of God alone can give us certainty. And the Scriptures are the voice of God.
The trick was crude. Goat skin on a wrist is not a convincing disguise, and Isaac knew the voice. Something had already gone wrong before the deception ever began.
Isaac was deceived in a way in which no man of the world, with common sense, would have been. How did it happen? He was not in communion with God, and a believer out of communion can be deceived by the crudest means. His thoughts followed the flesh; his soul loved venison, and the tasty meat blinded his mind.
The chapter refuses to give us a hero. Start with Jacob himself.
Not content with bold lies, he went on to hypocritical lying; for no sin grows smaller or better the more it is used.
The same writer widens the charge to everyone in the story. Yet he does not read this as a story about God's plan being hijacked.
At this point every one of them showed how bad his moral state was. Isaac, usually blameless, let his appetite get the better of him. He lost sight of two things: how little his elder son cared for holy things, and Jehovah's will and choice of Jacob. Rebekah may have been right about the goal, but she had no scruples at all about the means... But what a God we have to deal with, unmoved in His purpose of grace!
The story does not end with the deception. Finding out what he had done changed Isaac.
Then he realised what he had done — his attempt to set aside God's order and choice. He trembled greatly. Then faith awoke, and the scales fell from his eyes. God's will, that the younger should rule over the elder, came back to his memory. In spite of his earthly preferences he said, "Yes, and he shall be blessed." He sees how God kept him from giving the promise to the wrong man... This was his one great victory of faith.
One writer turns the mismatched voice and hands into a picture of the believer who means one thing and does another.
In this matter the believer is often as puzzled about himself as blind Isaac was. Isaac felt the hairy hands of Esau but heard the voice of Jacob... The believer does not have to stay in the dark about why, when his voice says, "I go, sir," his feet stay where they are or go the other way.
- Voice. Only the ear told Isaac the truth. Hearing is the sense God addresses, and we can trust His voice even when every other sense says no.
- Hands. Taste, smell and touch all voted for Esau — and all three were wrong. Feelings outvoted the word and lost.
- Cause. A crude trick fooled Isaac because he was out of communion with God, and his appetite had already clouded his judgement.
- Spread. The failure was not his alone. Rebekah schemed, Jacob lied and then lied worse, since no sin improves with use.
- Outcome. Isaac's faith woke and he confirmed the blessing. Every person failed, and God's purpose of grace stood unmoved.
And he did not discern him, because his hands were hairy, as his brother Esau's hands; and he blessed him.
Isaac is blind, and the goatskins on Jacob's hands convince him he is touching Esau. The wrong son gets the blessing — so how did a clumsy trick fool a man of God, and why did God let it stand?
Isaac had lost his sight. One writer counts what his other four senses told him.
Of the five senses we all have, one was missing in poor Isaac. His sight was gone, so he was left with the other four. This striking story shows that all four were used. Rebekah's clever cooking presented the flesh of the young goats as though it were venison, and it deceived his taste. She put Esau's clothes on Jacob, which deceived his sense of smell. Her plan of covering Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed goats deceived his sense of touch just as well. One sense remained, that of hearing, and Isaac recognised the voice as Jacob's. It was a case of three senses against one. Isaac accepted the verdict of the majority and blessed the son he could not see.
The same writer draws the lesson from the one sense that was right.
Yet the majority verdict was wrong, and only the testimony of his ear was right. This story pictures a very important principle: God-given faith comes by hearing. Faith is not sight, as we know. But many seem to think it comes by feeling. That is true of people wanting assurance of salvation, and of those already saved. Such people would rather be guided by their feelings or other natural senses than by simple faith in the word of God. We live in a time when God addresses Himself, not to sight or feeling, but to the hearing of faith. We may safely trust His voice, even if all our natural senses contradict it.
The disguise was crude. One writer traces Isaac's failure to the state of his soul, then follows him to the moment he realised what he had done.
How did Isaac come to be deceived by such a clumsy trick? He knew the voice. Were the neck and wrists, covered with the skin of a young goat, a surer test than the voice? Isaac was deceived in a way that no man of the world with common sense would have been. How did it happen? He was not in communion with God, and a saint who is not in communion is liable to be deceived by the grossest means. His thoughts were fleshly; his soul loved venison, and the savoury meat blinded his mind... When he became aware of what he had done, he trembled greatly. Then faith woke up, and the scales fell from his eyes. God's will, that the younger should rule over the elder, came back to his memory, and he said that Jacob would have the blessing. He condemns his own part in it, and takes God's side.
God had already settled which son would serve the other. Rebekah and Jacob schemed anyway.
Two great points come out in Jacob's history. One is God's purpose of grace. The other is nature plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would certainly have brought about anyway, without any plot or scheme at all... God did not need the help of Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's blatant deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the elder shall serve the younger." That was enough for faith. It was not enough for nature, which must always take its own way, and knows nothing of waiting on God.
The chapter is a record of failure. One writer points to God's own verdict on it:
Genesis 27 tells the story of Isaac blessing his sons. It is a sad chapter in which every member of the family breaks down, and we can find little evidence of any faith in it. There Isaac looks like a man ruled by his appetites, acting according to nature. Yet God, who sees behind all outward failure, lets us know it was by faith that Isaac blessed his sons concerning things to come.
Jacob got the blessing. He also got, measure for measure, the treatment he had given his father.
No doubt he often had to suffer from Laban's deceit. But was there not a reminder here of the deceit he had practised himself? He is deceived about his wife, deceived about his wages, deceived about everything. Yet how had he dealt with his father, not to speak of his brother? Deceit must meet with deceit under the repaying hand of God.
- Purpose. God had already said the elder would serve the younger. The blessing was never in danger; only the way of getting it was wrong.
- Shortcut. Nature schemed to grab what God would have given anyway. The cunning added nothing but sin.
- Blindness. A believer out of communion with God falls for the clumsiest trick. Appetite had dimmed Isaac's mind long before the goatskins touched his hands.
- Voice. Three senses said Esau, one said Jacob, and the one was right — God speaks to the hearing of faith, not to feeling.
- Harvest. Jacob deceived his father, then Laban deceived him about wife, wages and everything else. God still made him the heir He had promised.
And he said, Art thou really my son Esau? And he said, It is I.
Isaac has felt the goat skins. He has heard a voice that does not match the hands. Now he asks one last time. Jacob's answer is a lie.
Isaac's senses disagreed with each other. His question shows he was still uneasy.
Isaac was not too sure that it was Esau speaking to him, and as Jacob expected, he wanted to feel him to be certain. It is a lesson for us that we cannot always depend on our sight or on our feelings either. But Isaac allowed his feelings to persuade him, though his hearing told him it was Jacob's voice. Still, he pressed further in asking if Jacob was really his very son Esau, and Jacob flatly lied to him, saying, "I am."
The claim to be Esau was not one slip that got out of hand. Jacob went on adding to it.
Jacob showed himself an expert as if born to it. "I am Esau your firstborn," he replied to his hesitating father; "I have done as you told me." Not content with bold falsehoods, he went on to hypocritical lying. No sin grows smaller or better through use.
The saddest part is that the lie was not needed. God had already promised the blessing.
Jacob's history brings out two great points. On one side stands God's purpose of grace. On the other stands nature, plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would certainly have brought about anyway, without any plot or scheme at all... God did not need help from things like Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose. He had said, "the older shall serve the younger." That was enough for faith. It was not enough for nature. Nature must always take its own way, and knows nothing of waiting on God.
The blessing still held. But God did not simply ignore the lie.
Neither Esau's "running" nor Isaac's "willing" could set aside God's purpose. As the apostle says in Romans 9:16, "So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy." Without His mercy not one could inherit the blessing. But that does not stop His moral government in the meantime. It passes over no fault in His children, because He hates their wrongs and loves them. If they were not truly His sons, He would leave their sins to meet their just doom at the last day.
That government caught up with Jacob in kind. Years later he was the old man being deceived.
While no one can excuse the wickedness of his sons, we cannot help seeing in this scene that Jacob is only reaping what he had already sown. Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with "a young goat." There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes.
The story reaches past Jacob. It warns anyone tempted to hurry God along by bending the truth.
Note too that Jacob was a child of God. As a result, he suffered for the next thirty years from the consequences of his sin. He gained nothing by it, for God would have given him everything in due time... Have any of my readers fallen into this sin? Making haste to be rich, or to improve their position, or in some way running ahead of God, have they ever, from selfish motives, told a lie? If so, I am sure they have suffered since; and there can be no real restoration until that lie is confessed not only to God but to man.
Scripture could have left this scene out. Keeping it tells us something about God.
The blots, the failures and the errors of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob have been perfectly washed away... but their history remains on the page of inspiration, to display God's grace and to warn God's people in every age. And further, that we may clearly see that the blessed God has not been dealing with perfect men and women, but with people who have "a nature like ours."
- Unbelief sows. Jacob lied to grab what God had already promised. Nature schemed for what grace would have given anyway.
- Sin grows. One lie led to a worse one. No sin gets smaller through use.
- Purpose stands. Isaac's preference and Esau's effort could not overturn God's choice. Mercy decided it, not human will or exertion.
- Government reaps. The purpose held, but God overlooked no fault. Goat skins deceived Isaac; thirty years later a young goat deceived Jacob.
- Grace remains. The failure stays on record. It shows God dealing with people like us, and warns us never to lie for our own advantage.
And he said, Bring [it] near to me, that I may eat of my son's venison, in order that my soul may bless thee. And he brought [it] near to him, and he ate; and he brought him wine, and he drank.
Blind Isaac eats and drinks from the hand of a son he cannot see. That meal opens the door to a blessing meant for the other brother, and it sets three things against each other: a father's appetite, a son's lie, and a purpose of God.
The wording ties the blessing to the same part of Isaac that wanted the meal. Writers note that Scripture regularly attaches appetite and taste to the soul rather than to the spirit.
Scripture never makes the spirit responsible for animal desires such as eating and drinking. Yet it says the soul loves eating and drinking, or hates certain foods. See for example Genesis 27:25; Numbers 21:5; Deuteronomy 12:20, 14:26; Job 33:20; Proverbs 13:25, and many other places.
Isaac's call for food was no small detail. God had already said which son would have the blessing, and Isaac's appetite pushed that word aside.
The Scriptures do not spare us the lesson we need about what man is, even man whom God has chosen. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit. Many believers are slow to admit that the flesh in them is no better than the flesh in this family. Each of them showed here how bad his moral state was. Isaac, who was usually blameless, gave in to his appetite so far that he lost sight of two things: how godless his older son was, and how Jehovah had willed and chosen Jacob.
Isaac was about to do something priestly — to speak the blessing over his son. One writer is struck by how he got ready for it: with food and wine.
We may all be aware how much of our nature stains our holy things, and how much of the mere excitement of the flesh can be mistaken for the easy, strong current of the Spirit. We may notice it even in the place of communion with God. This should be our sorrow and our humbling. We are to confess it as evil, or at least as weakness, and to guard against it. But to get ready for it by mixing the wine and strong drink with care, and taking a deep drink — that goes further still in defilement.
Jacob did not stop at one falsehood. Asked how the game came so fast, he answered by dragging God's name into the fraud.
Not content with audacious falsehoods, he went on to hypocritical lying; for no sin grows less or better in the use. His father wondered how the food came so quickly, and Jacob answered with daring: "Jehovah your God brought it to me." His voice did raise a doubt even in the dull Isaac. But the touch of the goat skins that covered his neck and hands so cleverly, and the smell of Esau's best clothes, above all after tasty food and wine, took away any further question from the old man.
Isaac's blindness left him four senses to judge by, and the meal fooled his taste.
One sense remained, that of hearing, and Isaac recognized the voice as that of Jacob. It was a case of three senses against one. Three senses declared that the son he could not see was Esau, and only one declared that it was Jacob. Isaac accepted the verdict of the majority and blessed the son he could not see.
The same writer draws a practical lesson from which sense was right.
We are living in an epoch in which God is addressing Himself, not to sight or feeling, but to the hearing of faith. We may safely trust His voice, even if all our natural senses contradict.
Isaac ate, Isaac blessed, and God's declared choice stood — not because of the trick, but despite it. Later, when the fraud came to light, Isaac bowed.
When he saw that God had overruled, he did not turn on his wife and his younger son. He bowed and judged himself, and he trembled with a very great trembling. In faith he sealed the words his lips had spoken without knowing, yet under God: "Yes, and he shall be blessed." He felt that, whoever else was to blame, the error was his own. God was only making sure now of what He had said before the sons were born.
God's purpose held, but nobody in the room escaped the cost.
Isaac is set aside, Rebekah never sees Jacob again, and the schemer who had pushed his brother out of place now finds himself in hard work, wrongs and hardships. He is pushed out and deceived himself again and again, and for twenty long years he is a stranger, far from his father's house.
- Appetite — The blessing came from Isaac's soul, the seat of taste and desire. A craving for a favourite dish opened the door.
- Deception — Jacob's first lie bred a worse one. No sin gets smaller the more it is used.
- Senses — Taste, smell and touch all agreed, and all were wrong. Only Isaac's ear told the truth. God still speaks to the hearing of faith, not to sight or feeling.
- Government — Everyone paid. Isaac lost his place, Rebekah lost her son, and Jacob lost his home for twenty years and was cheated in turn.
- Purpose — God chose Jacob before the twins were born, and that choice still stood. Isaac's trembling "Yes, and he shall be blessed" is a man's will breaking and faith agreeing with God.
And his father Isaac said to him, Come near, now, and kiss me, my son.
Isaac is blind and near the end of his life. He calls his son close for a kiss before handing on the family blessing. But the son beside him is Jacob, dressed in his brother's clothes. How was a man of God fooled? And how did God's purpose still stand?
Blind Isaac had to judge his son by his other senses. One writer counts them off.
We all know that people have five senses. Poor Isaac had lost one of them. His sight was gone, so he was left with the other four. This striking story shows that all four were used. Rebekah's clever cooking served the meat of young goats as though it were venison, so his taste was deceived. She brought out Esau's garments and put them on Jacob, and that deceived his sense of smell. She covered Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed young goats, and that deceived his sense of touch just as well. One sense remained, that of hearing, and Isaac recognised the voice as that of Jacob. It was a case of three senses against one.
Isaac trusted the majority. The same writer draws the lesson from that:
Yet the majority verdict was wrong, and only the testimony of his ear was right. This illustrates a very important principle: God-given faith comes by hearing. Faith is not sight, as we know. But many think it comes by feeling. That includes people who want assurance of salvation, and also people who are already saved. Such people would rather follow feelings or other natural senses than simple faith in the word of God... We may safely trust His voice, even if all our natural senses contradict.
Isaac asked questions before he asked for a kiss. Jacob had an answer for each one.
Not content with bold falsehoods, he went on to hypocritical lying; for no sin grows less or better by use. He meets his father's surprise at how quickly the food came with his daring answer, "The LORD your God granted me success." His voice raised a difficulty even for dull Isaac. But the goat skins so cleverly covered his neck and hands that they felt right. Esau's best clothes smelled right too, especially after tasty food and wine. So the aged father asked no more questions.
The failure is not Jacob's alone.
The Scriptures do not spare us the needed lesson of what man is, even God's chosen man. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit. Many believers are slow to admit that the flesh is no better in them than in this family. Every one of them showed at this point how bad his moral state was. Isaac was usually blameless, but self-indulgence in his appetite so overcame him that he lost sight of the older son's contempt for holy things, and of the LORD's will and His choice of Jacob. Rebekah was right about the end in view, but completely unscrupulous about the means. Jacob was not without conscience and fear about the deceit he was to practise on his blind father... He dreaded a curse instead of the blessing he valued. But what a God we have to do with — unmoved in His purpose of grace!
The clothes Jacob wore for this kiss came back to haunt him.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father Isaac by wearing Esau's garment. Scripture calls Esau's garment his best, and as he was the elder it may have been something very like Joseph's robe of many colours. By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father. By fine clothing his sons deceived him. As he measured out, so it was measured back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
The blessing Jacob came for follows straight after the kiss.
Fully deceived, Isaac blessed him. Verses 28 and 29 give the terms of it, and we notice that it was all concerned with earthly things. He was to have plenty to eat and drink. His brothers and other nations were to serve him, and they would themselves be cursed or blessed by their attitude to him. There was no word about God being his shield and reward, as we find with Abraham. Still, such as it was, it indicated the blessing on earth that was to be his. His descendants have forfeited it, as we know, but God will make it all good to them in the coming thousand-year reign.
Isaac came close to wrecking everything here. Yet that is not how this scene is remembered.
Notice the crisis in his ways when his foot had nearly slipped in the matter of his two sons (Genesis 27). Grace overruled here; and he was saved, yet only as through fire. How striking it is that such a scene should be singled out to his credit in Hebrews 11:20! "By faith Isaac invoked future blessings on Jacob and Esau."
- Appetite blinds. Isaac's love of tasty food made him lose sight of God's choice of Jacob.
- Senses mislead. Taste, smell and touch all voted for Esau. Only his ear was right: faith comes by hearing, not by feeling.
- Lies escalate. No sin grows smaller with use. Jacob's cover story grew until he used the LORD's name to back it.
- Government repays. Jacob took a blessing in another man's clothes. His own sons later deceived him with clothing too. God measures back with precision.
- Grace overrules. Everyone in the tent failed, yet God's purpose of grace stood. Hebrews still calls this scene Isaac's act of faith.
And he came near, and kissed him. And he smelt the smell of his clothes, and blessed him, and said, See, the smell of my son is as the smell of a field which Jehovah hath blessed.
Isaac is blind and believes he is dying. He pulls close the son he cannot see, smells the borrowed clothes, and blesses him. Two questions follow. How was a father of faith fooled so easily? And how could words spoken under a lie still be prophecy?
Isaac tested the son in front of him. Every test but one failed him.
Of our five senses, poor Isaac was missing one. His sight was gone, so he had to rely on the other four, and this striking story shows that all four were used. Rebekah's clever cooking served up the flesh of young goats as though it were venison, so his taste was deceived. She brought out Esau's garments and put them on Jacob, and that deceived his sense of smell. She covered Jacob's hands and neck with the hairy skin of the killed goats, and that deceived his sense of touch just as well. One sense remained, hearing, and Isaac recognised the voice as Jacob's. It was three senses against one. Isaac accepted the verdict of the majority and blessed the son he could not see.
The scent that convinced Isaac came from clothes that were not Jacob's. Years later the same trick was played on Jacob himself.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father, Isaac, by wearing Esau's garment. Esau's garment was one of his "best garments." Since he was the elder, it may have been something very like Joseph's "robe of many colours." By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father; by fine clothing his sons deceived him. What he gave out came back to him in the same measure. God's government of His people works with great precision.
The scene is written to be uncomfortable. Every person in it is in the wrong, and the purpose of God holds anyway.
The Scriptures do not spare us the needed lesson of what man is, even chosen man. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit. Many believers are slow to admit that the flesh is no better in them than in this family. Isaac was usually blameless. But self-indulgence in his appetite so overcame him that he lost sight of the elder son's godlessness, and of the LORD's will and choice of Jacob. Rebekah was right about the end in view, but she had no scruples about the means. Jacob was not without conscience and fear about the deceit he was to practise on his blind father, and about pretending to be Esau by lying. He dreaded a curse instead of the blessing he valued. But what a God we have to deal with! He is unmoved in His purpose of grace — otherwise it could never stand. He is unchanging in His righteousness too. It disciplined every one of them for their good, and it was painful, because of their sins.
These words were not a fond old man's wish for his boy.
A priest blessed by reason of his office, and there was nothing prophetic or oracular in his words. With the patriarchal blessing it was clearly different. There was a prophecy or an oracle in Isaac's words on Esau and Jacob here in Genesis 27. The same was true later, in Jacob's words on his children in Genesis 49, and in his words on Joseph's children in Genesis 48. It was true earlier too, in Noah's words in Genesis 9 on Shem, Ham and Japheth.
Read on its own, the chapter looks like appetite and trickery. Scripture elsewhere calls it faith.
Isaac is next set before us as an example of one who walked in the light of the future, for we read that "By faith Isaac invoked future blessings on Jacob and Esau." The story of the blessing of his sons is given in Genesis 27, and as we read that sad chapter in which every member of the family breaks down, we can find little evidence of any faith. There Isaac appears ruled by his appetites, seeking to act according to nature. Here, God, who sees behind all outward failure, lets us know that it was by faith that Isaac blessed his sons concerning things to come.
Isaac's picture of a blessed field points forward to a coming day for the earth.
He will come down on the earth once judgment is over, like gentle showers on thirsty ground, and so the righteous will flourish in His days. In that day there will indeed be "the smell of a field that the LORD has blessed." The blessing Isaac gave to the son who supplanted his brother, the son who became Israel, will find a glorious fulfilment.
- Failure. Taste, touch and smell lied to Isaac. Only his hearing told the truth, and he followed the three that lied.
- Fault. Isaac's appetite, Rebekah's scheming and Jacob's lies leave no one in the family blameless — the chapter shows what people really are.
- Faithfulness. God's purpose of grace stands unmoved through the whole mess, because otherwise it could never stand at all.
- Fairness. Fine clothes deceived Isaac; years later fine clothes deceived Jacob — God measures back with precision.
- Fulfilment. The blessing was prophecy, and God calls it faith; its "field that the LORD has blessed" still waits for a coming day.
And God give thee of the dew of heaven, And of the fatness of the earth, And plenty of corn and new wine.
Isaac is old and blind, and the son kneeling in front of him is not the son he means to bless. Yet the words he speaks — dew, fatness, grain and wine — land exactly where God meant them to. So whose blessing is this really?
Isaac does not say "I give." He asks God to give. The outcome never rested on the old man's preference.
Is God going to be thwarted? Is He going to be hindered in His purposes? Never! Isaac himself did not realise it at the time, yet he spoke with full authority. He gave the fullest blessing to Jacob, though he thought he was blessing Esau. That was faith. Not faith in his own purpose, for God ruled that. His faith was in giving the blessing, and in seeing, once he had done it, that it stood as the act of God, and that he could not reverse it.
"The dew of heaven" is not decoration. The image runs right through the Bible.
Dew was the familiar sign of God's favour. It was largely what made the land fertile, and without it the land would have been dry and barren. Isaac, in pronouncing the blessing on Jacob, uses this figure (Gen. 27:28). Moses repeats it in his closing blessing on the tribes (Deut. 33:28). Elijah shows God's judgment on the land by declaring that dew should not fall (1 Kings 17:1)... And Hosea describes the restoration of the nation, when God will bless them again. He pictures Him saying, "I will be as the dew to Israel."
Jacob and Esau are both promised dew and fatness, but not in the same order. Jacob hears of heaven first. One writer traces the reversal in Esau's line.
Poor Esau was promised these blessings in reverse order. Earthly things would come first for him. Look at his descendants and relatives today. Where are all the oil wells being fought over today? Esau's descendants have had the blessing of the fatness of the earth, but their lot has been miserable, with all their wars and fighting. The dew of heaven has also fallen on them, but they have hardly noticed.
Compare this blessing with what God promised Abraham, and something is missing.
Verses 28 and 29 give the terms of the blessing, and we notice that it was all concerned with earthly things. He was to have plenty to eat and drink, and be served by his brothers and other nations... There was no word about God being his shield and reward, as we find with Abraham. Still, such as it was, it indicated the blessing on earth that was to be his. His descendants have forfeited it, as we know, but it will all be made good to them in the coming millennial day.
One writer sees the three gifts as pictures of what God gives the believer, and of what a parent may ask for a child.
His blessing first voices the desire that God would give his son of the dew of heaven. This is typical of the living refreshment of the Spirit of God. Added to this is an abundance of grain and wine. The grain speaks of the Lord Jesus as the food of the believer... The new wine pictures the joy of a new life in Christ based on the value of the shedding of His blood. Every Christian father or mother may well desire such blessing for all of their children.
Rebekah and Jacob cared about God's blessing. But they reached for it by deceit, and the result was shame.
The sin of Isaac threw everything into confusion, and gross evil followed on the part of Rebekah and Jacob. The situation was so tangled that Esau, ungodly as he was, seemed more an object of pity at this sad and shameful moment than anyone else involved. Meanwhile those who really cared for the Lord's will and blessing brought dishonour on His name by the deceitful means they used to gain it. What sorrows and shame people make for themselves when they forget that God cannot fail to carry out His own purpose! In their haste for a good end, they do not hesitate to use wicked means.
- Source — the verse asks God to give. The blessing is His act, not Isaac's. It stood even though Isaac thought he was blessing Esau.
- Sign — dew is the token of God's favour. Without it the land is barren. God withholds it in judgment and promises it again in restoration.
- Order — Jacob hears of heaven first, then earth. Esau's order runs the other way, and his line has had the fat of the earth without noticing the dew.
- Scope — food, drink and rule over nations. The blessing is earthly all through. Jacob's descendants forfeited it, but God will yet make it good to them.
- Shortcut — Rebekah and Jacob used deceit to seize the blessing. They made sorrow and shame for themselves. God's purpose never needed their lie.
Let peoples serve thee, And races bow down to thee. Be lord over thy brethren, And let thy mother's sons bow down to thee. Cursed be they that curse thee, And blessed be they that bless thee.
Isaac could not see which son knelt before him. Yet his words handed Jacob rule over peoples, nations, and his own brothers. Two questions follow. Can a blessing gained by lies still stand? And what did Isaac promise here?
Isaac blessed in covenant, but the goods he handed over were earthly. One writer notes the two names of God in the blessing, and how it narrows from nations in general to Isaac's own family:
And the blessing was given, both from Jehovah in covenant, and from God in sovereignty. Yet its terms mainly consisted of earthly plenty from the favour of the heavens. They also covered the subjection of peoples and races of mankind in general, and of his brothers and his mother's sons in particular. It closes with a double sentence of larger and deeper meaning: "Cursed be everyone who curses you, and blessed be everyone who blesses you."
What the blessing leaves out matters as much as what it names:
Verses 28 and 29 give the terms of it, and we notice that it was all concerned with earthly things. He was to have plenty to eat and drink. His brothers and other nations would serve him, and their attitude to him would bring them a curse or a blessing. There was no word about God being his shield and reward, as we find with Abraham... His descendants have forfeited it, as we know, but it will all be made good to them in the coming millennial day.
Isaac meant every word of this for Esau. That it landed on Jacob instead is the point of the whole scene:
Is God going to be thwarted? Is He going to be hindered in His purposes? Never! Without knowing it at the time, but with the full sense of authority, Isaac gives the fullest blessing to Jacob. He was under the impression that it was Esau. That was faith. Not faith in his own purpose, for God ruled that, but faith in giving the blessing. Once he had done it, he realized it would stand as the act of God, and he could not reverse it. It is a striking illustration of the power of divine purpose.
When Isaac learned what had happened, he did not take the blessing back:
His eye is opened. He discovers what he had been doing, and how Jacob had got the blessing he had prepared for Esau. He now sees plainly that he had been resisting God and could not prevail, and his soul seems to awaken as from sleep... The flesh he had been feeding could not support him in such a moment, and he does not look for it. It has been exposed to him. In the light and energy of the better life he acts by faith. Speaking now of Jacob, and no longer of Esau, he says, "I have blessed him, yes, and he shall be blessed."
"Let peoples serve you" has never yet been true of Jacob's descendants. Commentators read it as a prophecy still waiting, with a double reference — to the nation and to the One born from it:
Jacob was to be the father of the nation of Israel, and other nations would eventually bow to them. Above all, Christ would be born of the line of Jacob, and the force of the prophecy is mainly that all must bow to Christ... The ultimate fulfilment of this prophecy has never taken place yet. It will not come until Israel is recovered from her present unbelief and bows to the Lord Jesus, the true Messiah of Israel.
The last line repeats words God spoke to Abraham. Balaam takes it up, and its settling day is a scene of judgment:
Balaam therefore ends his parable with the words of God to Abraham. "Blessed are those who bless you, and cursed are those who curse you." Matthew 25 shows how this is fulfilled. There the Son of Man sits on the throne of His glory. He separates the nations one from another by how they treated one of the least of His brothers, the children of Israel... How fully are the interests of His people bound up with Himself!
The way Jacob got the blessing came back on him:
No doubt he often had to suffer from Laban's deceit; but was there not a memorial here of the deceit in which he had acted himself? He is deceived about his wife, deceived about his wages, deceived about everything; but how had he dealt with his father, not to speak of his brother? Deceit must meet with deceit under the hands of God, who repays.
- Decree. God's purpose ruled the scene. Isaac's intention for Esau could not overturn it.
- Deceit. Jacob took by fraud what God's purpose would have given him, and Laban later paid him back in kind.
- Dominion. The blessing is earthly: food, drink, and peoples in subjection. There is no word of God as shield and reward.
- Direction. Nations bowing points past Jacob to Christ, born of his line, before whom all must bow.
- Day. The full sweep of it waits for Israel's recovery, when the Son of Man settles the blessing and the curse from His throne.
And it came to pass when Isaac had ended blessing Jacob, and when Jacob was only just gone out from Isaac his father, that Esau his brother came from his hunting.
Jacob walked out of his father's tent with the blessing in hand. Seconds later Esau walked in with his dish of game. Everything turns on that gap of seconds. What did it mean for the two brothers on either side of the door?
One writer traces the timing from Esau's side — why he hurried, and what he had already given up.
Jacob got what he wanted and left his father just in time, before Esau came back with his cooked venison. Esau had been quick to find a deer and prepare it for Isaac, no doubt because he was eager for the blessing. Since he had sold his birthright to Jacob, he had no right to the blessing, but he did not tell his father this. He saw a chance to take the firstborn's blessing, and he meant to take it before his brother found out!
The near miss can look like luck. One writer says God's purpose settled the matter long before either brother ran for it, and the scheming added nothing.
God's purpose must stand, and He will do all His pleasure. Faith knows this; and, in the power of that knowledge, can wait for God's time. This nature never can do, but must set about gaining its own ends, by its own inventions. Jacob's history brings out two great points. On one side stands God's purpose of grace. On the other stands nature, plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose was bound to bring about anyway, without any plot or scheme at all.
Another writer names what God could have done instead, if anyone had been willing to wait.
God could have brought the blessing in His own way. He could even have made Isaac cross his hands, as He later did with Jacob. Instead Jacob followed his mother's lead and his own way, and did not wait for God. But the blessing was prophetic, and no one could take it back. Isaac was guilty, and Jacob more so. God overruled it all, to answer faith and to discipline evil in the believer.
Isaac shakes when he learns what has happened. One writer reads that trembling as the moment Isaac stopped fighting God.
Isaac had tried to please the son who fed his appetite, forgetting what Jehovah had already said about Jacob. But God blocked him, and Isaac bowed. That was the turning point of grace in his soul, and we rejoice at it. God's overruling broke in on him. He did not turn on his wife and younger son. He bowed in self-judgment and trembled with a very great trembling. In faith he sealed what his lips had said without knowing it, but under God: "yes, and he shall be blessed." He felt that, however others were to blame, the error was his own. God was only securing now what He had said before the sons were born. The Spirit says the same in Hebrews 11. Isaac blessed by faith, against his own leanings and not with them — and the names there run Jacob first, then Esau.
One writer sums up Esau's whole story in three steps.
As for Esau, he at once recognized that here was the sequel to the reckless way in which he had sold his birthright. In regard to him we might sum up the whole sad story as: — the birthright: the barter: the bitter cry. The birthright was gone, and the bitter cry remained.
Another writer turns Esau's cry into a warning for readers today.
When Esau knew what Jacob had done, he cried aloud. But it was too late! He had not valued his birthright, and had lost his blessing. All who despise the gift of eternal life that God gives are sure to lose their blessing. Many people outside the door of grace will be crying when it will be too late.
Jacob won the blessing, but at a price. One writer counts the cost and shares out the blame.
The sin of Isaac threw everything into confusion. Gross evil followed from Rebekah and Jacob. The tangle was so great that Esau, godless as he was, seemed at this sad and shameful moment to deserve more pity than anyone else involved. Meanwhile those who did care for Jehovah's will and blessing brought dishonour on His name by the deceitful means they used to get it. What sorrows and shame people make for themselves when they forget that God cannot fail to carry out His own purpose! In their hurry for a good end, they do not hesitate to use wicked means.
- Purpose — God settled the outcome before the brothers were born. He was only securing what He had already said.
- Plot — Jacob schemed for what that purpose would have given him anyway, with no plot at all.
- Margin — Jacob got out just in time, but the shortcut cost him: confusion at home, and dishonour on God's name.
- Seal — Isaac's great trembling was his turning point. He stopped resisting God and sealed the blessing in faith.
- Cry — Esau's story runs birthright, barter, bitter cry. It warns anyone who treats God's gift as worth trading.
And he also had prepared savoury dishes, and he brought [them] in to his father, and said to his father, Let my father arise and eat of his son's venison, in order that thy soul may bless me.
Esau comes back from the hunt with his father's meal, but Isaac has already blessed Jacob. Two questions follow: why did Esau want what he had already sold, and how did God's purpose hold in a room full of scheming, appetite and deceit?
Esau had moved fast. He wanted the blessing. He also said nothing about the one fact that would have ended his claim.
Jacob finished just in time to leave his father before Esau came back with his venison. Esau had been quick in finding a deer and preparing it for Isaac. No doubt he was anxious to receive the blessing. But he had sold his birthright to Jacob, so he was not entitled to the blessing — and he did not tell his father this. He saw a chance to get the blessing of the firstborn, and to get it before his brother knew!
Esau asks for the blessing, though he had already sold the birthright that went with it. Writers see the same habit in people today.
But Esau wanted the blessing though he had despised the birthright... This is a common problem among people. They have no interest in what God gives in a spiritual way — and the birthright stands for this. Yet they push hard when it comes to their own prosperity and blessings. It is really a matter of wanting all the blessings God may give while ignoring the Giver Himself. So people may receive much blessing from God. Yet they calmly refuse to receive the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, as Saviour and Lord.
The meal Esau brings is the same food that had shaped Isaac's judgement — older translations call it "savoury meat." One writer compares Isaac with Esau.
Here is Isaac, an old man standing at the very door of eternity. Earth and nature are fast fading from his view. Yet he is taken up with "savoury meat," and is about to act in direct opposition to God's counsel by blessing the elder son instead of the younger. This was nature, and nature with its "eyes dim." Esau had sold his birthright for a bowl of stew; now Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a dish of venison. How very humiliating!
God turned Isaac's weakness into the tool that corrected him.
God allows him to be deceived. The "savoury meat" turned his mind away from sound judgement. The same "savoury meat" then makes him act according to the will of God, without his knowing it. Jacob blessed his sons with clear understanding, in full agreement with the mind of God. Isaac does it as one failing, humbled, deceived — carrying out the will of God almost despite himself.
Isaac's reaction is not anger but self-judgement.
But we rejoice at the turning point of grace in Isaac's soul. He had tried to please the son who catered to his appetite, forgetting the will of Jehovah already declared about Jacob. God stopped him, and Isaac bowed. When God's overruling broke in on him, he did not turn on his wife and younger son. He bowed in self-judgement and trembled greatly. In faith he sealed what his lips had said without knowing it, yet under God: "he shall be blessed." He felt that, however others were to blame, the error was his own.
Jacob's trick was inexcusable, but it was not what settled the outcome.
In this way God had overruled Jacob's inexcusable deceit so that the blessing should be given to the younger son, as God had decreed.
Esau's plea ends in a loud cry. One writer turns it into a warning.
When Esau knew what Jacob had done, he cried aloud. But it was too late! He had not valued his birthright, and had lost his blessing. All who despise the gift of eternal life which God gives will certainly lose their blessing... Isaac gave Esau another blessing, but Esau still lost the blessing of Abraham. He lost everything Jacob valued, and he never again had a chance to get it.
One writer names what Esau was really after.
Not that he sought repentance: he sought the blessing, but without repentance. He ought to have repented for despising his birthright, but he found no place to repent.
- Sold — Esau asks for a blessing tied to a birthright he had already sold. He says nothing to his father about it.
- Late — speed in the field could not buy back what contempt had thrown away. He arrives after Isaac has spoken.
- Appetite — the food Isaac loved had dimmed his judgement. God used that same appetite to correct him.
- Overruled — deceit on one side and weakness on the other could not turn aside what God had decreed.
- Tears — Esau wanted the blessing, not a changed heart. The warning is clear: do not prize God's gifts while ignoring the Giver.
And Isaac his father said to him, Who art thou? And he said, I am thy son, thy firstborn, Esau.
Isaac is dying, and Jacob has already come in his brother's place and taken the blessing. Now Esau stands at the bedside and answers his father's question with the very title he had sold.
One writer stresses that Esau had every advantage and no excuse.
But Esau was all the more guilty. He was born of the heir of promise, in answer to prayer and in line with prophecy. Being born first gave him whatever advantage it could over Jacob. Was he not brought up just as much as Jacob, within the familiar sound of God's word and ways, as far as we know? But he was tested in a way that should have been easy for a hunter. He had resources at hand which had never failed, and which it would be monstrous to think could fail him in urgent need. Yet he deliberately sold his own birthright "for a single meal" (Heb. 12:16), and so earned from the Holy Spirit the terrible stigma of a "profane person."
Esau came back expecting the blessing to be waiting for him.
But he found that it was he who was too late. Isaac was shocked when Esau told him who he was (vv. 32-33). At first he asks who had already come, but of course he knew the answer. He tells Esau he has blessed the first one who came, and adds firmly that "he shall be blessed." In this way God had overruled Jacob's inexcusable deceit, so that the blessing went to the younger son, as God had decreed.
Isaac had his own wish for this moment. One writer says that even a man God has set apart still acts from his own heart.
Though a set-apart and filled vessel, he would have served the wish of his own fond heart in the use of the treasure he carried; but God took him out of his own hand, and used him as the oracle of His settled, sovereign purpose... We know that "that which is born of the flesh is flesh." As an old writer says, "The water that is foul in the well will not be clean in the bucket."
Rebekah schemed and Jacob lied. One writer points out that none of it was needed.
But God's purpose must stand, and He will do all His pleasure. Faith knows this, and in the power of that knowledge can wait for God's time. Nature never can do this, but must set about gaining its own ends by its own inventions. These are the two great points brought out in Jacob's history. On one side stands God's purpose of grace. On the other stands nature, plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would have brought about without fail, with no plot or scheme at all... God did not need the help of Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit to carry out His purpose.
Esau did want the blessing back. One writer asks what he was after, and sets him beside the prophet Balaam.
How a single act may reveal a man's character, as with Esau here. For a bit of food he sold his birthright, and the act marked him as a profane person, one who habitually left God out of his thoughts. Yet he could desire the blessing, and sought it earnestly after he had lost it — just as Balaam could want to die the death of the righteous while he had no thought of living their life. So he found no place for repentance, because it had to do only with the lost blessing, and involved no judgment of his ways before God. He valued the gain of godliness without the godliness.
One writer applies Esau's closed door to anyone who drifts away from Christ.
I do not care what you take up in His place; if you slip away from Christ you may be tomorrow in the position of the rejected Esau. He is a picture of those who will one day cry to be let in. Their tears will be as useless as Esau's beside the bed of his dying father. He came too late. So when once God has risen up and shut the door they will find no place of repentance.
- Sold. Esau claims the title "firstborn." He had already sold that birthright for a single meal, and the act marked him as profane.
- Late. Esau comes with the food and the claim too late. Isaac had already blessed his brother, and says of him, "he shall be blessed."
- Overruled. Isaac meant the blessing for Esau. God took him out of his own hand, and made him speak His settled purpose instead.
- Unnecessary. God's purpose would have stood without Rebekah's cunning or Jacob's lies. Faith waits for God's time. Nature schemes for what it would have received anyway.
- Warning. Esau wanted the blessing back, not repentance. Tears over a lost gift are not a change of heart, and the door does not stay open forever.
Then Isaac trembled with exceeding great trembling, and said, Who was he, then, that hunted venison and brought [it] to me? And I have eaten of all before thou camest, and have blessed him; also blessed he shall be.
Esau comes back with his father's meal, but the blessing is already gone. Isaac had meant it for him all along. What made the old man shake so hard? And why did he seal the blessing on the son who had tricked him instead of taking it back?
Isaac was not just shocked at being fooled. One writer names what he thinks lay behind the trembling.
I have no doubt that the thought of God's coming in to thwart his flesh had much to do with Isaac's trembling.
Another writer follows what happened inside Isaac at that moment.
His eye is opened. He discovers what he had been doing, and how Jacob had got the blessing he had prepared for Esau. It confronts him to his face: he had been resisting God, and could not win. His soul seems to wake as from sleep. The moral sense of the place he was filling startles him. He trembles inside. The flesh he had been feeding could not support him at such a moment.
Isaac's blindness was more than physical. One writer asks how so weak a trick worked, and answers from the state of Isaac's soul.
How did such a clumsy trick deceive Isaac? He knew the voice. Were the neck and wrists, covered with the skin of a young goat, a surer test than the voice? The trick fooled Isaac as it would never have fooled a man of the world with common sense. How did that happen? He was not in communion with God, and the crudest means can deceive a believer who is out of communion. His thoughts were fleshly; his soul loved venison, and the tasty food blinded his mind.
God did not leave Isaac's appetite alone. One writer traces what God did with it.
But God will subdue nature, unjudged nature, in Isaac too. And more than this — so perfect and complete are God's ways! That very indulgence had twisted Isaac's mind and judgement. God will use it as the direct instrument to discipline him. God allows him to be deceived. The tasty food turned his mind away from sound judgement, and the same tasty food forces him, without knowing it, to act according to the will of God.
Isaac's response is the surprise of the chapter. He confirms the blessing he has already given. One writer marks this as the turning point.
But we rejoice at the turning point of grace in Isaac's soul. He bowed to God's overturning of his effort to please the son who had catered to his appetite. He had forgotten the already declared will of the Lord about Jacob. When God's overruling broke in on him, he did not attack his wife and younger son. He bowed in self-judgment and trembled with a very great trembling. In faith he sealed what his lips had said without knowing, yet under God: "Yes, and he shall be blessed." He felt that, however others were to blame, the error was his own. God was only securing now what He had said before the sons were born. Faith now worked, no longer hindered by the flesh which had lately darkened his eyes. And so says the Spirit in Hebrews 11. It was not in line with his natural leanings, but against them.
Why should a blessing won by lying stand? Writers do not excuse Jacob.
Jacob deserved to lose the blessing. By his mean, lying conduct he forfeited the place given by promise. Where would he have been, and the nation named after him, if grace had not covered his sin at the very start?
Isaac's words also settle Esau's case. One writer weighs the loud, bitter cry that follows.
Esau sold his birthright for a bowl of stew. He despised it. Present ease and relief were everything to him at that moment... Though he longed for his father's blessing, seeking it with tears, he could never regain what he had lost. He had forfeited it, and Isaac acknowledged that when he said of Jacob, "Yes, and he shall be blessed." ... But there was no word of confession of what he had done. He showed no penitent spirit.
- Appetite blinds. Isaac's love of a favourite meal, not old age, left him open to a trick a stranger would have spotted. The crudest means can fool a believer who is out of fellowship with God.
- God thwarts. Isaac shook when he saw that he had been resisting God's declared will — and had lost.
- Discipline fits. The same indulgence that misled him became the instrument God used to correct him and to carry out His purpose despite him.
- Faith seals. Isaac blamed no one else. He judged himself and confirmed the blessing — the act Hebrews 11 records as his faith.
- Tears are not repentance. Esau's bitter cry begged for the lost blessing. It confessed nothing about the birthright he had despised.
When Esau heard the words of his father, he cried with a great and exceeding bitter cry, and said to his father, Bless me -- me also, my father!
Isaac has already blessed Jacob. Esau arrives too late, and his father cannot take the words back. His cry is loud and bitter — yet what he wants back is the very thing he had earlier thrown away.
Everything here turns on timing. Esau is not refused a hearing. He arrives after he has already lost what he wanted.
When Esau knew what Jacob had done, he cried aloud. But it was too late! He had not valued his birthright, and had lost his blessing. All who despise the gift of eternal life which God gives will certainly lose their blessing. Though Isaac gave Esau another blessing, he still lost the blessing of Abraham, and he never had another chance to get it.
Writers are careful about what Esau's tears were seeking. He wept over the loss, not over what caused it.
We are told that "he found no place for repentance, though he sought it with tears." He was not seeking repentance. He sought the blessing, but without repentance. He ought to have repented for despising his birthright, but he found no place to repent.
Notice what is missing from his words. He asks for the blessing, but he names no fault of his own.
Esau's desire for a blessing comes out in his great and bitter cry: "Bless me, even me also, O my father!" But there was no word of confession about what he had done. He showed no repentant spirit. He found no place for repentance. He could not undo what he had done.
One writer explains the word "profane." It describes a settled attitude, not a single outburst — and a common one.
So we learn what a profane person is: someone who would like to hold both worlds. He wants to enjoy the present without giving up his claim to the future. This is not at all a rare case. It describes the person who is nothing more than a worldly believer in name. His conscience has never felt divine truth at work, and his heart has never felt the influence of divine grace.
Esau's plea is aimed at his father's feelings. But the reason the words stand is not stubbornness.
There came a time when Esau wanted a change of mind from his father. He wanted to change Isaac's mind, but he found no place for it, though he sought it with tears. He said, "Bless me, even me also, O my father!" But he could not change his father's mind, because his father had spoken the mind of God in the matter.
Commentators differ here. Some take the repentance Esau failed to find as his own change of heart. Others take it as the change of mind he could not get from Isaac.
There was still a blessing left for Esau. One writer shows how well it matched the man who received it.
Still there was a blessing for Esau, and one far more suited to his nature than the one reserved for Jacob. What did Esau care for the promises or the covenant? What relish had he for Messiah's kingdom? The fatness of the earth was more to his taste, and the dew of heaven from above. Heaven itself was only a sentiment he gladly left for others to enjoy.
It is easy to read this chapter as villain and victim. One writer spreads the blame far wider — and puts the pity in a surprising place.
Isaac's sin threw everything into confusion, and serious evil followed on the part of Rebekah and Jacob. The tangle was so great that Esau, ungodly as he was, seemed at this sad and shameful moment more an object of pity than anyone else involved. Meanwhile those who really cared for the Lord's will and blessing brought dishonour on His name by the deceitful means they used to gain it.
One writer turns the scene on the reader. Esau stands for people who will also come too late.
How does Esau stand before you? He is a picture of the generation who will one day say, "Lord, Lord, open to us." But their tears will be as useless as Esau's beside the bed of his dying father. He came too late.
- Despised first. Esau lost the blessing long before this verse, at the moment he traded away what he did not value.
- Cried second. The great and bitter cry is real grief, but grief over consequences is not the same as sorrow over sin.
- Tears, not turning. He asked for the blessing and never asked to repent — no confession appears anywhere in his words.
- The word stood. Isaac could not reverse himself, because what he had spoken was the mind of God.
- Too late is real. Esau beside his father's bed pictures those who will one day cry "Lord, Lord, open to us." The time to value the gift is now.
And he said, Thy brother came with subtilty, and has taken away thy blessing.
Isaac names what has just happened in his tent. The younger son came in disguise, and the blessing is gone. Two questions follow. How could a blessing won by lying still stand? And what did the lie cost the man who told it?
One writer traces the plan back past Jacob to his mother, and marks it off from his earlier bargain over the birthright:
Rebekah knew what God's purpose was. But she was anxious for her favourite to have the blessing, so she took up a calculated course of deceit to trick her blind husband. She set the deceit going and Jacob carried it out successfully. Later episodes in Jacob's life show him to us as a man who was a master of clever and even underhand schemes. It is a solemn thought that he got the earliest recorded lesson in this kind of thing from his mother. His bargaining with Esau over the stew and the birthright was sharp practice, but it had no element of deceit in it.
Isaac speaks here as the wronged man, but the record is honest about him too:
The Scriptures do not spare us the lesson we need about what man is, even chosen man. It is painful reading, and meant to be, but full of profit; for many believers are slow to admit that the flesh is no better in them than in this family. Every one of them showed at this point the bad moral state each was in. Isaac was usually blameless. Here he was so overcome by self-indulgence in his appetite that he lost sight of two things: how little the elder son cared for holy things, and Jehovah's will and choice of Jacob. Rebekah was right about the end in view, but she had no scruples at all about the means. Jacob was not without conscience and fear about the deceit he was to practise on his blind father, and about his lying impersonation of Esau. He dreaded a curse instead of the blessing he valued.
Isaac does not try to take his words back. One writer sets Jacob's guilt beside God's unchanging purpose:
Jacob's history now begins. Heir of the promises, and valuing them, he uses means to get them — means that are evil and low in character. God answers his faith, and chastens his evil and unbelief. God could have brought the blessing about in His own way. He could have made Isaac cross his hands, as He later did with Jacob. But Jacob, led by his mother, followed his own way and did not wait for God. But the blessing was prophetic, and not to be recalled. The ways of God and His purpose were not to be changed. Isaac was guilty, and Jacob more so: it was all overruled to answer faith and to chasten evil in the believer.
Esau lost the blessing here, but one writer points back to a choice Esau had already made, and to how Hebrews reads his tears:
Esau deeply felt the pain of losing the blessing of the firstborn, and cried with a great and bitter cry, begging his father to bless him too. Hebrews 12:16-17 refers to this occasion. It speaks of Esau as an unholy man who sold his birthright for one meal. Then, when he expected the blessing, he was rejected. We are told that "he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears." He was not looking for repentance. He wanted the blessing, but without repentance. He should have repented for despising his birthright, but he found no place to repent.
Jacob kept the blessing. Years later his own sons played the same trick on him:
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father, Isaac, by wearing Esau's garment. Esau's garment is called "best clothes," and as he was the elder it may have been something very like Joseph's coat of many colours. By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father; by fine clothing his sons deceived him. He got back the measure he gave. God's government of His people works with great precision.
One writer puts God's grace next to His dealing with faults in His own people:
Grace alone secures salvation for sinful man, yet only for those who believe. But God has always carried on, as He still does, a righteous government, dealing with every fault among His own... What sorrows and shame people make for themselves! They forget that God cannot fail to carry out His own purpose. In their hurry for a good end, they do not hesitate to use wicked means.
- Deceit — Isaac names it exactly. The plan was Rebekah's, the lie was Jacob's, and it went past his earlier bargain over the birthright.
- Purpose — the blessing stood because it was prophecy, and no one could take it back. God's word, not Jacob's cleverness, held it in place.
- Grace — the sin in that tent did not change God's purpose; He overruled it all to answer faith and to chasten evil in His own.
- Government — the same God who gave the blessing measured the deceit back: his own sons deceived him with fine clothing, just as he had deceived his father.
- Warning — a right end never excuses wrong means. Those who will not wait for God make sorrow and shame for themselves.
And he said, Is it not therefore he was named Jacob, for he has supplanted me now twice? He took away my birthright, and behold, now he has taken away my blessing. And he said, Hast thou not reserved a blessing for me?
Esau comes back from the hunt and finds the blessing already given to his brother. His reply turns on the meaning of Jacob's name, and it raises two questions: was the charge fair, and what had Esau already thrown away?
Esau is not inventing an insult. He is reading back the name given at birth, when the younger twin came out gripping his brother's heel. The ESV's "cheated" is "supplanted" in older translations — he took his brother's place.
The second son, Jacob, followed closely, his hand holding the heel of Esau. This is recorded to show what would be true of Jacob in his life. His name means "he will take by the heel." Esau referred to this later, when Jacob had deceived his father by taking Esau's place. His hand grasped for the blessing meant for Esau. This tells us what Jacob was in the flesh. But God later changed his name to Israel, "a prince with God." God's purposes would stand, and He did a work in Jacob's soul that made a glorious change in the man.
The name fits, but it is only half the man. Jacob wanted God's blessing. His fault was the way he went after it.
Here he fully lives up to the name that Esau angrily throws at him. Jacob values the blessing of God, but he seeks it in cunning and worldly ways, completely opposed to faith.
Esau counts two losses as if both were thefts. But he sold one of them himself.
Esau reminds his father that Jacob's name means supplanter, and that he has been true to his name in taking away both Esau's birthright and his blessing. Did Esau forget that he had willingly sold his birthright to Jacob? Since he had, Jacob had a right to the blessing too. But Esau wanted the blessing, though he had despised the birthright. He begs his father to tell him if he has kept at least some blessing for him. This is a common problem among people. They have no interest in what God gives in a spiritual way, and the birthright stands for this. Yet they are most insistent when it comes to their material prosperity and blessings.
Esau's grief was real and loud. But the New Testament points to what was missing in it.
Esau felt deeply the pain of losing the blessing of the firstborn. He cried out with a great and bitter cry, begging his father to bless him too. Hebrews 12:16-17 refers to this moment. It calls Esau a profane person who sold his birthright for one meal, and who was then rejected when he expected the blessing. We are told that "he found no place for repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears." He was not seeking repentance. He sought the blessing, but without repentance.
The word "profane" here does not mean bad language. It describes what a man wants.
So we learn what a profane person is. He is someone who would like to hold both worlds. He would like to enjoy the present without giving up his claim to the future. This is by no means an uncommon case.
Every person here comes off badly. Yet something changes in Isaac when God crosses his plan.
We are angry at the underhand course of Jacob and Rebekah. We feel for the old man of faith, mistaken and deceived. We pity the bitter disappointment of Esau, worthless as he was and ungodly as he had already proved. But we rejoice at the turning point of grace in Isaac's soul. He bowed when God blocked his effort to please the son who had fed his appetite… He felt that, however others were to blame, the error was his own. God was simply securing now what He had said before the sons were born.
Jacob keeps the blessing. He does not escape the consequences of how he got it.
First, for his comfort, he will learn that all his failures will not alter God's purpose to bless him in sovereign grace. Second, for his correction, he will learn something more. God's sovereign grace will not hold back God's chastening hand when he fails… He has to reap what he has sown. Jacob deceives his father with the skins of goats. In the years to come his own sons will deceive him with the blood of a goat.
- Name. Jacob means "he will take by the heel." Esau's taunt is accurate. God renames him Israel only after working on his soul.
- Sale. Esau sold the birthright himself. He despised the spiritual gift and fought hard for the material one.
- Tears. He wept for the blessing, not for his sin — the mark of the profane person who wants to keep both worlds.
- Purpose. The whole family fails. Yet Isaac bows to God, and God secures what He had said before the twins were born.
- Harvest. Grace kept Jacob's blessing, but God's chastening hand still fell. He deceived with goatskins; his sons later deceived him with goat's blood.
And Isaac answered and said to Esau, Behold, I have made him lord over thee, and all his brethren have I given to him for servants, and with corn and new wine have I supplied him -- and what can I do now for thee, my son?
Isaac has already given the family blessing to Jacob, and now Esau stands before him asking for one too. Isaac's answer raises the hard question of this chapter. How can a blessing given by mistake, and gained by fraud, still stand?
Jacob has just tricked him, yet Isaac's words carry no hesitation. He talks like a man who owns what he is giving away.
Nature showed extreme weakness at the opening of Genesis 27. Even so, it is very interesting to see how Isaac maintains by faith the dignity God had given him. He blesses as a man who knows God has given him power to bless! He says, "I have blessed him; yes, and he shall be blessed… and with grain and wine I have sustained him." He speaks as one who, by faith, had all the treasures of earth at his disposal. There is no false humility, no taking low ground because nature has shown itself. It is the proper work of faith to rise above all our own failure and its consequences, into the place where God's grace has set us.
Isaac cannot undo what he said, and he does not try. What looks like a father trapped by his own mistake is really God's purpose holding firm.
Can anyone thwart God? Can anyone hinder His purposes? Never! Isaac did not know what he was doing at the time. Yet with the full sense of authority he gives the fullest blessing to Jacob, though he thought it was Esau. That was faith. Not faith in his own intention, for God ruled that. It was faith in giving the blessing, and in seeing afterwards that it would stand as the act of God, and that he could not reverse it.
The shock of verse 33 changed him. Instead of blaming his wife and younger son, he took the blame himself and sealed what he had said.
We rejoice at the turning point of grace in Isaac's soul. He had tried to please the son who had satisfied his appetite, forgetting the will of Jehovah already declared about Jacob. God overturned that, and Isaac bowed to it. When God's overruling broke in on him, he did not attack his wife and younger son. He bowed in self-judgment and trembled greatly. In faith he sealed what his lips had said without knowing it, but under God: "he shall be blessed." He felt that, however others were to blame, the error was his own. God was only securing now what He had said before the sons were born.
The deception itself was crude. The explanation is not clever trickery but a heart drifting from God.
How did Isaac fall for such a clumsy trick? He knew the voice. Were the neck and wrists, covered with the skin of a young goat, a surer test than the voice? Isaac fell for a trick that no man of the world with common sense would have fallen for. How did it happen? He was not in communion with God, and the crudest means can fool a believer who is out of communion. His thoughts were on the pleasures of the body; his soul loved venison, and the tasty food blinded his mind.
Isaac has nothing left to give. Esau's plea exposes a common instinct.
Esau had willingly sold his birthright to Jacob. Since that was so, Jacob was entitled to the blessing too. But Esau wanted the blessing, though he had despised the birthright. He begs his father to say whether he had not at least kept back some blessing for him (v.36). This is a common affliction among human beings. They have no interest in what God gives in a spiritual way, and that is what the birthright stands for. But the moment it becomes a matter of their own prosperity and blessing, they press hard. It is wanting every blessing God may give while ignoring the Giver Himself.
The promise stood. The method cost the schemer dearly.
The Lord had promised him the blessing with no conditions: "The older shall serve the younger." But he could not wait in the patience of faith. He could not leave it to the Lord to make His own promise good in His own time and way. So the promise becomes loaded with reservations, difficulties and burdens. The Lord will surely make it good… But now Jacob's own unbelief and scheming have a price: the older will give the younger some trouble. The younger chose to handle the promise with his own craft and skill. So he will reach it only after delay, sorrow and shame.
- Appetite blinds. Isaac loved a favourite meal and had drifted from God. So a crude disguise fooled a man who still knew the voice.
- Faith recovers. Trembling, he judged himself instead of others. Then he confirmed the blessing he never meant to give.
- The word stands. Isaac knew the blessing was now God's act, and that he could not reverse it.
- Birthright first. Esau despised the spiritual place first, then begged for the benefits. He wanted God's gifts and ignored the Giver.
- Scheming costs. Jacob received what God promised. His own craft made him reach it through delay, sorrow and shame.
And Esau said to his father, Hast thou then but one blessing, my father? bless me -- me also, my father! And Esau lifted up his voice and wept.
Isaac has already spoken the blessing over Jacob. Esau now asks whether his father has anything left for him, and then breaks down in tears. It is one of Scripture's sharpest pictures of grief that comes too late.
Esau's grief was real. But notice what he asks for: the thing he threw away, not a new heart.
Esau felt the pain of losing the blessing of the firstborn. He cried with a great and bitter cry, begging his father to bless him too… We are told that "he found no place for repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears." Not that he sought repentance: he sought the blessing, but without repentance. He ought to have repented for despising his birthright, but he found no place to repent.
One writer repeats an older comment on those tears.
It is a good comment that Augustine makes on Esau's tears (Hebrews 12): "He wept that he lost the blessing, not that he sold it."
Scripture's word for Esau is "profane," and one writer draws its definition straight out of this moment.
The apostle calls Esau "a profane person, who for one morsel of food sold his birthright." So we learn what a profane person is — one who would like to hold both worlds; one who would like to enjoy the present without forfeiting his title to the future.
A man named Balaam wanted the same thing, and the comparison shows why Esau's longing could never be met.
Yet he could desire the blessing, and sought it earnestly after he had lost it. Balaam was the same: he could desire to die the death of the righteous, while he had no thought of living their life. So Esau found no place for repentance. His seeking had only to do with the lost blessing. It involved no judgment of his ways before God. He valued the gain of godliness without the godliness. God's nature would have had to change to give him the one thing he wanted.
Esau's question assumes his father has another blessing in hand. But Isaac had spoken the mind of God.
There came a time when Esau wanted repentance on his father's part. He wanted to change Isaac's mind, but he found no place for it, though he sought it carefully with tears. He said, "Bless me, even me also, O my father." But he could not change his father's mind. His father had expressed the mind of God in the matter.
The outcome never rested on what father or sons preferred.
Esau would have been glad to get or regain the blessing. But God had given it elsewhere, and Esau had forfeited it himself. It was all arranged beforehand. Neither Isaac's favouritism nor Jacob's deceit could turn the blessing aside.
Commentators differ over whose repentance was out of reach. Some hold that it was Isaac's mind Esau could not move.
Though he sought carefully with tears to change his father's mind, he found no place for a change of mind in Isaac… We know that, despite his urgent pleading, Isaac could not change his mind. He could not take back the blessing he had given to Jacob, which God approved of.
Others read it of Esau himself, and point to what is missing from the whole scene.
What Esau sought so hard to get with tears was the blessing he wanted. To say he sought repentance with tears makes no good sense… But it was not a change of his father's mind that he could not find. It was a change of his own. There was no real looking to God about his sins.
One writer turns the story on the reader.
Do not forget this — in a certain sense every sinner has a birthright. You have been born into a world to which the Saviour has come, and that Saviour came to save sinners. Suppose you do not receive that Saviour. Suppose you hold on in the ways of the world, deluded by Satan, caring only for the things of this life. Then you simply follow the footsteps of Esau. You despise your birthright for a bowl of soup — for the things that serve the body and give you comfort while you pass through this world, which you will soon have to leave.
- The sale — Esau traded his birthright for one meal. That single act exposed a man who wanted this world and the next at once.
- The cry — Here he asks for the blessing back, not for a new heart; his tears mourn what he lost, not what he did.
- The refusal — Isaac has no second blessing to give. The words he had spoken were God's mind, not just a father's preference.
- The debate — Was the repentance Esau could not find his father's change of mind, or his own? Commentators differ. Either way, he never really looked to God about his sins.
- The warning — Anyone who wants the gain of godliness without the godliness is walking Esau's road. Crying over the loss is not turning back.
And Isaac his father answered and said to him, Behold, thy dwelling shall be of the fatness of the earth, And of the dew of heaven from above;
Esau comes in with his own dish and his own hopes, only to find that the blessing he wanted has already gone to his brother. What Isaac says next is still called a blessing, yet it names only earth and sky — the portion, commentators say, of a man who let go of the promise.
A note on wording. The older translations these writers used say Esau's home would be of the fatness of the earth and of the dew of heaven. The ESV says away from both. The comments below follow the older reading.
Esau's tears did move his father to speak. But what came out was a different kind of gift — and, one writer says, a prophecy.
Esau was now a pitiful sight. He wept. His tears could not undo the past or recover the birthright, but they did draw out a blessing from Isaac, though not the blessing. And in saying what he did in verses 39 and 40, he doubtless spoke as a prophet.
Esau's blessing was generous. What it lacked was not size but kind.
Jacob is now openly his heir, and Isaac confirms the choice God had made. But God is full of pity as well as holy. He would not go back on His own election. Yet He strengthens Isaac to pronounce a second blessing on Esau. By faith Isaac blessed him too, concerning things to come. A rich and ample promise was the portion of the firstborn. But it was a material blessing only.
The same two gifts appear in both blessings, but not in the same order. For Esau the earth comes first.
Poor Esau was promised these blessings in reverse order. Earthly things would be first for him. Look at his descendants and relatives today. The fatness of the earth has generally been their lot. Where are all the oil wells being fought over today? Esau's descendants have been blessed with the fatness of the earth. But their life has been miserable, full of wars and fighting. The dew of heaven has also fallen on them, but they have hardly noticed.
Esau was not cheated. He got the kind of thing he had always wanted.
Still there was a blessing for Esau, and one far better suited to his nature than the one reserved for Jacob. What did Esau care for the promises or the covenant? What taste had he for Messiah's kingdom? What reverence or readiness to submit to Messiah Himself? The fatness of the earth was more to his taste, and the dew of heaven from above. Heaven itself was only a sentiment that he gladly left for others to enjoy. He was, he flattered himself, a practical man; and the present world was to him a scene of enjoyable pleasures.
Isaac's words reached past Esau to a whole nation. One writer finds Edom's later character in them.
The outstanding trait of Edom was envious dislike of the people of God... There can be no question that the character of Edom matches what the Lord lets us know through Isaac. It would be hard to imagine a prediction of this kind where every word was more truly verified in the whole history of man than in the life and changes of Edom and Israel.
The blessing came true in Esau's line, and it came true early.
The chapter shows us that Esau was prospered in earthly things, so that his father's blessing was fulfilled to him (27:39-40). He occupied his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied, and they became chiefs and notorious. They became not only "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always come ahead of the children of God.
It can seem strange that Isaac blessed Esau at all. One writer sees in it how God deals with those who refused His terms. He then points to a very different yoke.
I do not doubt that it represents God allowing the blessings of this world to come to those who refused blessing in God's way. Esau had to live by his sword. It was all his own energy... This is totally different from a Christian; his blessing lies in taking Christ's yoke. Esau's blessing would have lain in being subject to Jacob, the heir of promise.
- Cause. Esau's tears could not undo what he had already let go; they drew out a blessing, but not the blessing.
- Gift. What he received was rich and ample — and material only, with no promise or covenant in it.
- Order. Isaac promised dew and fatness to both sons. Esau got them in reverse order, and earthly things have stayed first with his line.
- Fit. Esau got what suited him. He had no taste for Messiah's kingdom, and gladly left heaven to others.
- Result. The words came true. Edom had chiefs and kings before Israel had any. The world can outrun God's people in present greatness — but the real blessing lay in the yoke Esau would not take.
And by thy sword shalt thou live; And thou shalt serve thy brother; And it shall come to pass when thou rovest about, That thou shalt break his yoke from off thy neck.
Isaac has already given the covenant blessing to Jacob. What is left for Esau is half gift and half sentence: the sword, service under his brother, and a day when the yoke comes off.
The portion Isaac names is no mere leftover. It fits what Esau wanted. Older translations read the last clause as "when you shall have the dominion"; the picture is of Esau shaking loose.
There was still a blessing for Esau, and one that suited his nature far better than the one kept for Jacob. What did Esau care for the promises or the covenant? What taste did he have for Messiah's kingdom? The richness of the earth suited him better, and the dew of heaven above. Heaven itself was only a nice idea, and he was happy to leave it to others... And what a fine thing to live by the sword when men stood against him! It was true that the word said he, Esau, would serve his brother. That was an unwelcome sentence, one that still had to prove true, and he would do all he could to stop it. Meanwhile the same sentence said that one day he would get loose, roam free, and break the yoke off his neck. Well, this would be a joy indeed: let his brother have the rest.
Isaac had meant the covenant blessing for Esau all along. These words come from a man who has just discovered that God overruled him.
When it broke on him that God had overruled him, he did not turn on his wife and his younger son. He bowed in self-judgment and trembled violently. In faith he sealed what his lips had said without knowing it, yet under God: "Yes, and he shall be blessed." He felt that, whoever else was to blame, the error was his own. God was only securing now what He had said before the sons were born.
Both halves of the verse came true, and in that order.
All this comes true. David, who came from Jacob, puts troops in Edom, and the Edomites become his servants and bring gifts. Jehoram, who also came from Jacob, later loses the Edomites as servants who paid him tribute. They revolt, and remain in revolt to this day. 2 Sam. 8:14; 2 Chr. 21:8.
Every word held. One writer also sets a limit on what "by your sword" predicts.
In all of human history it would be hard to find a prediction of this kind more exactly fulfilled. Every word came true in the life and changes of Edom and of Israel. Yet nothing in it hints at Edom's spite and vengeful hate. Living by the sword does not have to mean hatred. Ambitious drive often leads to a career of conquest where no particular hatred is at work.
God had already said the elder would serve the younger. One writer weighs what Jacob's impatience cost.
Had Jacob waited patiently, no conditions would have burdened the promise. (Chap. 27:40.)
Another writer counts the cost in centuries of delay.
But ever since the days of Jehoram — son of Jehoshaphat, of the house of David, of the line of Jacob — Esau, or Edom, has been in revolt. So the promise is delayed, complicated and burdened in ways God's grace and the gift by grace never designed. Jacob would never have gone through any of this, had his faith been simpler.
The picture reaches past Edom. One writer takes Esau as a figure of the flesh, the nature in us that will not live before God.
Esau is a picture of the flesh, which will not live before God. It must be brought into subjection... But Isaac tells Esau he will live by his sword. The flesh is always at war, just as the troubled sea cannot rest. The flesh thinks it must fight for its rights. Esau would serve his brother, yet he would break Jacob's yoke off his neck. Though he stayed in subjection, nothing could tame his rebellious character, just as the flesh keeps breaking out in rebellion.
The broken yoke is not the end of the story. Two later prophets take the promise up again.
But still, "the elder shall serve the younger." That promise is yes and amen. Amos bears witness to it when he says that Israel will possess Edom. (Chap. 9) And Obadiah is another witness to the same thing. He tells us that in due time saviours will come to Zion and judge the mount of Esau.
- Blessing — Esau gets a real gift, but one shaped to his own taste: the earth's richness, the sword, the present world.
- Faith — Isaac speaks the blessing against his own wishes, bowing to a word God gave before the twins were born.
- Fulfilment — Service under David, revolt under Jehoram: Edom's history proved every clause true.
- Burden — Jacob's impatience did not cancel the promise. It left it delayed and complicated in ways grace never designed.
- Yoke — The flesh stays subject but untamed, and keeps breaking loose. Still the older word stands: saviours will come to Zion.
And Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him. And Esau said in his heart, The days of mourning for my father are at hand, and I will slay my brother Jacob.
Esau wept in front of his father. Alone, his grief hardens into a plan of murder, timed for the day his father dies.
Esau's grief did not last. What replaced it shows what his sorrow had been about all along.
So Esau soon turned from wailing and tears to murderous hatred. He did not value Jehovah. He valued the blessing. He had already shown how little the birthright meant to him when he sold it for one meal of food. He was a profane person. This was no real excuse for the wrong Rebekah and Jacob had done, but it made Isaac's sin worse. From then on, hatred of his brother filled Esau's heart — hatred that would go as far as taking his life. He had received the promise of everything he cared about, except that his brother would rule over him. His pride could not stomach that. So he plots by himself to kill his brother once his aged father is gone, or at least once the days of mourning are over. Truly Esau went in the way of Cain.
Kelly calls him profane. Another writer explains what that word means:
So we learn what a profane person is. He is someone who would like to hold both worlds. He would like to enjoy the present without giving up his claim on the future.
The killing never happened, yet the verse records it as a settled intention. One writer links Esau's anger to what the Lord said about murder.
In Genesis 27:41, in the case of Esau, we find another instance of how anger is akin to murder, as the Lord pointed out in Matthew 5:21,22. When anger is sinful it is always the result of some previous sin. When it is righteous, it is the result of a righteous and holy feeling... In Cain's case the cause was ENVY, in Esau's, JEALOUSY.
Yet the plan did not stay hidden:
Scripture only says that Esau said this in his heart. But he must have told someone else what he planned. His mother heard about it, and she warned Jacob.
Esau's scheme assumed two things: that his father would soon die, and that a death could cancel what God had said. Both assumptions failed.
But the feud between the two brothers remains to this day. It is one of the greatest forces stirring up conflict in the earth. The beginning of it and the root of it come before us in verse 41. But again we see that in all his thoughts Esau did not have God before him. If he had, he would never have imagined he could defeat God's purpose by killing his brother.
Esau's threat drives Jacob out of his home. But Jacob is not innocent here. His flight is the fruit of his own scheming.
Jacob now begins to taste, in some measure, the bitter fruit of how he treated Esau. At the same time we see God rising above all the weakness and folly of His servant... God will carry out His own purpose, no matter by what means. But if His child takes himself out of God's hands, with an unrepentant spirit and an unbelieving heart, he must expect much sorrow and painful discipline. So it was with Jacob. He might not have had to flee to Haran if he had allowed God to act for him.
Esau fixed his revenge to a date on the calendar. He was not the one holding the calendar.
But He whose eye is over all hearts kept aged Isaac alive for a long time to come. The days of mourning did not arrive before Esau met Jacob with four hundred men, to Jacob's great distress. But God turned the heart that meant to kill him, so that he received the trembling man with kisses and tears. So truly does God arrange matters, whatever those may propose who do not know Him.
- Wanted the blessing — Esau's rage was about the blessing, not about the God who gives it. He had already sold his birthright for one meal.
- Wanted both worlds — that is what "profane" means here. Esau wanted to enjoy the present without giving up his claim on the future.
- Murder in the heart — anger of this kind is murder in seed, and the jealousy behind it puts Esau in the way of Cain.
- Cost to both brothers — Jacob flees, and tastes the bitter fruit of his own scheming. The feud that began here still stirs up conflict in the earth.
- Overruled by God — the day Esau chose never came as he planned. God kept Isaac alive, and turned the murderous heart into one that met Jacob with kisses and tears.
And the words of Esau her elder son were told to Rebecca. And she sent and called Jacob her younger son, and said to him, Behold, thy brother Esau, as touching thee, comforts himself that he will kill thee.
Esau's vow to kill his brother did not stay secret. The words reached Rebekah, and she moved at once to get Jacob out of the country — the first fruit of the scheme she had built.
Esau said this in his heart, yet Rebekah heard of it. One commentator draws the conclusion.
This occasion awakened such hatred in Esau toward Jacob that he planned to kill him after their father's death (v. 41). Scripture only says that Esau said this in his heart. But he must also have told someone else of his intention, because his mother heard about it and warned Jacob (v. 42).
Rebekah describes a man who comforts himself with the thought of murder. Moments before, Esau was weeping. One writer shows what that grief became, and what Esau valued.
So Esau soon turned from wailing and tears to murderous hatred. It was not Jehovah that he valued, but the blessing; just as he had already proved how little he thought of the birthright when he sold it for one meal. He was a profane person. This was no real excuse for the wrongdoing of Rebekah and Jacob; but it made Isaac's sin worse. From now on hatred of his brother filled Esau's heart, even to the point of taking his life. He had received the promise of everything he cared about, except the supremacy of his brother. His pride could not stomach that. Truly Esau went in the way of Cain.
The quarrel did not end with these two men. Another writer traces it forward and names the blind spot in Esau's plan.
But the feud between the two brothers remains to this day, and is one of the greatest forces stirring up discord in the earth. The beginning of it and the root of it come before us in verse 41. But again we see that in all his thoughts Esau did not have God before him. Otherwise he would not have imagined he could defeat God's purpose by killing his brother.
Rebekah is the one who must send Jacob away. The one who arranged the trick is the first to pay for it.
Rebekah was the one to send her beloved child away, whatever it cost her. It was fitting that she should be the means of exile for the very son she had so guiltily instructed. It was fitting too that she should never again see in this life the one she knew was the object of God's favour and the true heir to the promises. God is, and must be, and ought to be Sovereign; but God is just, and cannot let cunning pass unpunished, while He can have no terms with profanity and ungodliness. So she herself has to do the greatest violence to her own feelings as well as Jacob's, and urges him to flee to Haran to stay with her brother Laban.
Rebekah knew Jacob was the true heir to the promises. She used dishonest means to secure that, and one writer counts what it cost each person.
The holiness of the Lord burns up every bit of this. Nothing comes of this cunning and this fleshliness. The holiness of the Lord lays it all in ashes. Isaac loses his Esau. Rebekah never sees Jacob again, for her promised few days were an exile of twenty years. And the calculating man who took his brother's place finds himself surrounded by hardships, cut off from his father's house for that long and dreary season. Nothing comes of any of it, whether we look at the scheming of one party or the favouritism of the other. All is disappointment, and rebuked by the holiness of the Lord.
Esau timed his murder for the days of mourning after Isaac's death. That day came much later than he thought, and the meeting went nothing like he planned.
But He whose eye is over every heart kept aged Isaac alive for a long time yet. The days of mourning did not arrive before Esau met Jacob with four hundred men, to Jacob's great distress. But God turned the heart that meant to kill him, so that he received the trembling man with kisses and tears. That is how truly God disposes, whatever men may propose who do not know Him. Stop regarding man in whose nostrils is breath, for of what account is he?
- Scheme. Rebekah wanted the right thing for her son and used deceit to get it. The holiness of God laid the whole plan in ashes.
- Threat. Esau's hatred was over the blessing, not over God — he prized the gift and despised the Giver, as he had already shown with the birthright.
- Flight. The mother who taught her son to deceive had to push him out of the house. Her sin cost her first and cost her most.
- Loss. "A few days" turned into twenty years of exile, and Rebekah never saw her son again.
- Purpose. Esau thought a knife could cancel God's word. Instead God kept Isaac alive, softened Esau's heart, and carried His own purpose through.
And now, my son, hearken to my voice, and arise, flee to Laban my brother, to Haran;
Rebekah's plan has worked: the blessing is on Jacob, and now Esau is planning murder. Her answer is one urgent word: run. That flight will cost her and Jacob far more than she expects.
Esau's rage is what forces the advice. One writer looks at what Esau valued, and finds the same man who once traded his birthright for a meal:
So Esau quickly turned from wailing and tears to murderous hatred. It was not Jehovah that he valued, but the blessing; just as he had already proved how little he thought of the birthright when he sold it for one meal. He was a godless man. This was no real excuse for the wrongdoing of Rebekah and Jacob; but it made Isaac's sin worse. From then on hatred of his brother, even to the point of taking his life, filled Esau's heart.
Rebekah expects a short absence. The same writer weighs her words against what actually followed, and notices that her own reunion plan never happened:
She herself has to do the greatest violence to her own feelings as well as Jacob's, and urges him to flee to Haran, to stay with her brother Laban. "Some days" did she say? Ah, poor Rebekah — for many a long year to be cheated by Laban, just as you and Jacob cheated Isaac! No, it will never be yours, whatever comes of Esau's fury and anger, to send and fetch your Jacob back from there.
Another writer puts a number on the gap between her expectation and the outcome:
So Rebekah advised Jacob to leave and take a long journey back to Haran, where he could count on the hospitality of her brother Laban. She tells him he should stay there "a few days" until Esau's anger has cooled. But the few days turned out to be over twenty years, probably because Jacob was not anxious to see Esau in all that time. But the government of God did not allow Jacob to see his mother again on earth.
Rebekah must send Jacob away herself. One writer ties her loss to her leading part in the plan:
She was the prime mover in using a wrong way to reach a right end. So she had most to feel God's chastening, under His unfailing moral government. Soon after this event Jacob left for the land of the sons of the east, and his mother never saw her beloved child again. He too, through years of sorrow, had to suffer under the crafty cheating schemes of his mother's brother, his own father-in-law. No human being shall or can boast.
Another writer counts up who paid for the plan, and hears her stated reason as both real and convenient:
Everybody suffered: Esau and Isaac, and in the end both Jacob and Rebekah. The parting lasted for many years, not the "few days" she expected. Jacob went out to be deceived by others, and Rebekah stayed behind with the unwelcome company of the Hittite women. She dwelt on her weariness as a reason and an excuse for sending Jacob off to her brother. But the discord between them was no doubt very real, and she had to face it without her favourite son.
Jacob has two lessons to learn on this road:
There are two things Jacob has to learn on this memorable occasion. First, for his comfort, he will learn that all his failures will not alter God's purpose to bless him in sovereign grace. Second, for his correction, he will learn that God's sovereign grace will not hold back God's chastening hand because of his failures... He still has to go his lonely way as a wanderer. He must spend long years of toil and bondage in a stranger's house, because of his sin against his father and brother.
Jacob obeys his mother's voice rather than resting in the God who blessed him:
He who has now got the blessing is still totally unable to trust God for its fulfilment. Rebekah's voice is heard again, urging him to flee from his brother's anger... It is now that, alone, a wanderer and a fugitive, he arrives at Bethel, and here for the first time God appears to him.
Esau was waiting for his father's death before he struck. God's timing overruled his:
But He whose eye is over all hearts kept aged Isaac alive for a long time to come. The days of mourning did not arrive before Esau met Jacob with four hundred men, to Jacob's great distress. But God turned the heart that meant to kill him, so that he received the trembling man with kisses and tears. So truly does God dispose, whatever those may propose who do not know Him.
- Cause. Rebekah and Jacob used a wrong way to reach a right end, and the flight to Haran is the first bill coming due.
- Cost. A stay of a few days stretched past twenty years. The mother who schemed hardest to keep her son lost him, and never saw him again.
- Correction. The exile is discipline, not accident: Laban cheats the man who cheated his own father.
- Consolation. Failure does not cancel God's purpose to bless — but grace does not cancel His chastening either; both run side by side.
- Conclusion. The lonely road ends at Bethel, where God appears to the fugitive for the first time. The brother who wanted him dead meets him with tears instead of a sword.
and abide with him some days, until thy brother's fury turn away --
Esau means to kill Jacob, so Rebekah tells her son to run to her brother Laban and wait there until his brother's anger cools. She plans a short absence and then a message calling him home, but her few days stretched into more than twenty years.
Older translations put the ESV's "a while" as "a few days." One commentator measures that estimate against the outcome:
She tells him to stay there "a few days" until Esau's anger has cooled. But the few days turned out to be over 20 years. Jacob was probably not eager to see Esau in all that time. But the government of God did not allow Jacob to see his mother again on earth (see Genesis 35:27), though he did see his father. She said she would send for him at the appropriate time and have Jacob brought home again. So she lost Jacob's presence as completely as if death had taken him, which is what she feared.
She had pushed Jacob into deceiving his father. Now she must push him out of the house:
Rebekah was the one to send her beloved child away, whatever it cost her. It was fitting that she should be the one to send into exile the son she had instructed to deceive. It was fitting that she should never again see in this life the son she knew was the object of God's favour and the true heir to the promises... "Some days" did she say? Ah, poor Rebekah — many a long year of Laban's cheating lies ahead, as you and Jacob cheated Isaac! No, it will never be yours, whatever comes of Esau's fury and anger, to send and fetch your Jacob from there. It is striking that Scripture never records her death. Rebekah is not mentioned when Esau and Jacob met at their father's funeral, so we may fairly gather that she had died some time before Isaac did.
She had told Jacob to let any curse fall on her instead:
Isaac had no curse to call down on Rebekah. But she was the prime mover in taking a wrong way to gain a right end. So she had most to feel the chastening of God's unfailing moral government.
Esau had tied his plan to the days of mourning for his aged father. The timing was not his to set:
But He whose eye is over all hearts kept aged Isaac alive for a long while yet. The days of mourning did not come before Esau met Jacob with four hundred men, to Jacob's great distress. Yet God turned the heart that meant to kill him, so that Esau received the trembling man with kisses and tears. So God disposes, whatever those may propose who do not know Him.
The anger did turn away — but by God's hand, not by the passing of days.
The journey Jacob begins here is not only an escape. It is the reaping of what he had sown at his father's bedside:
Jacob's circumstances are not changed. He still has to go his lonely way as a wanderer. He still has to spend long years of toil and bondage in a stranger's house, because of his sin against his father and brother. He has to reap what he has sown. Jacob deceives his father with the skins of goats. In years to come his own sons will deceive him with the blood of a goat. The sovereign grace that blesses us does not change that memorable law, "whatever one sows, that will he also reap" (Galatians 6:7).
Yet on the road out of his father's house, God met him:
Jacob had done great wrong at his father's bedside (Genesis 27). At Bethel he was tasting the bitterness of what he had done. He was a wanderer from his father's house, with no friend and no shelter. In the glory of His goodness, God shows Himself to him. The opened heavens, the ladder, and the angels were a wonderful answer from the grace of God to such a man as Jacob was then. But so it was. The Lord is wonderful to His saints, even while they suffer under His rebukes for their wrongdoing.
- A few days. Rebekah named the length of the exile. It ran past twenty years, and her promised message never came.
- Her cost. She was the prime mover in taking a wrong way to a right end, so she felt God's chastening most of all. She never saw Jacob again.
- His harvest. Jacob deceived his father, and then Laban cheated him for years. What he sowed at his father's bedside, he reaped in a stranger's house.
- God's hand. The fury did turn away, but not by time. God turned a heart set on murder into one that met Jacob with kisses and tears.
- God's grace. At Bethel the wanderer had no friend and no shelter, yet heaven opened over him — grace to a man still under God's rebuke.
until thy brother's anger turn away from thee, and he forget what thou hast done to him; then I will send and fetch thee thence. Why should I be bereaved even of you both in one day?
Rebekah's warning closes the story of the stolen blessing. Esau means to kill Jacob, so his mother sends him away to save him. She calls it a short stay, and this verse becomes the hinge on which a whole family's sorrow turns.
The chapter ends with no winners. Everyone who touched the deceit paid for it, and paid far longer than anyone planned.
The events that fill this chapter include some sordid details, but they also carry searching instruction. We see God holding to His purpose and at the same time carrying out His discipline. Everybody suffered — Esau and Isaac, and in the end both Jacob and Rebekah, because the parting lasted many years, not the "few days" she expected. Jacob also went out, and other men deceived him, while Rebekah was left with the company of the Hittite women, which she did not want.
Rebekah names a short stay and promises to send for Jacob herself. Neither happened. She feared losing both sons in one day, and she lost one in a way she never pictured.
She tells him to stay there "a few days" until Esau's anger has cooled. But the few days turned out to be over 20 years, probably because Jacob did not want to see Esau in all that time. God's government did not allow Jacob to see his mother again on earth (see Gen. 35:27), though he did see his father. She said she would send for him at the right time and have him brought home. So she lost Jacob's presence as completely as if death had taken him — the very thing she feared (v. 45).
It was Rebekah who coached Jacob into lying to his father. Now it is Rebekah who must push him out the door — and the same measure she used comes back on her and on her son.
Rebekah was the one who had to send her beloved child away, whatever it cost her. It was fitting that she should be the one to drive into exile the son she had so guiltily coached... "A few days," did she say? Poor Rebekah — for many a long year to be cheated by Laban, just as you and Jacob cheated Isaac! No, whatever came of Esau's fury and anger, it would never be yours to send and fetch your Jacob back... It is striking that Scripture says nothing about her death. Rebekah is certainly not mentioned when Esau and Jacob met at their father's funeral.
Esau was waiting for the days of mourning for Isaac. Rebekah's plan runs on the same clock. But the clock was not hers to set, and the hatred she planned around was not hers to cure.
But God, whose eye is over every heart, kept aged Isaac alive for a long time yet. The days of mourning did not arrive before Esau met Jacob with four hundred men, to Jacob's great distress. And God turned the heart that meant to kill him, so that he welcomed the trembling man with kisses and tears. God disposes, whatever those who do not know Him may propose.
Jacob leaves home as a fugitive. He is now tasting what his own scheming produced.
Jacob now begins to taste, in some measure, the bitter fruit of how he treated Esau. At the same time, God rises above all the weakness and folly of His servant... God will carry out His own purpose, whatever instrument He uses. But if His child takes himself out of His hands, with an unrepentant spirit and an unbelieving heart, he must expect much sorrow of heart and painful discipline. So it was with Jacob: he might not have had to flee to Haran if he had let God act for him.
That exile was not empty of God — but it was empty of settled worship until the wanderer came home.
It is true that God watches over him, waits on him, and keeps him safe; but he does not walk with God. He has no altar until his return, after a course of painful experiences... For twenty-one years he had to deal with men who cheated and oppressed him, while God kept him safe in secret.
- A few days. The short stay she promised stretched past twenty years, and she never sent for Jacob at all.
- A few days of hiding, a lifetime of loss. She feared losing both sons in one day. Esau's sword never fell, yet she never saw Jacob again.
- A few days she herself caused. The mother who taught the deceit had to pronounce the exile, and Laban's cheating answered the cheating of Isaac.
- A few days God did not need. He kept Isaac alive far longer than Esau expected. He also turned the brother who meant murder into one who met Jacob with kisses and tears.
- A few days too many in a hurry. God's purpose stood either way. The flight, Laban's cheating, and the years without an altar were the price of not letting God act.
And Rebecca said to Isaac, I am weary of my life because of the daughters of Heth. If Jacob take a wife of the daughters of Heth, such as these, of the daughters of the land, what good should my life do me?
Rebekah's last recorded words in Scripture are a complaint to her husband about Esau's Hittite wives — the local women he had married. She says nothing about Esau's threat to kill Jacob. That gap between her words and her real aim raises one question: is this honest grief, or a cover story?
Esau had just vowed to kill Jacob once their father died. Rebekah needed to get Jacob out of the country without telling Isaac why. Commentators see her complaint about the Hittite women as the means.
Esau's threat, however, reached Rebekah's ears. It stirred her to a further plan for her favourite son. There was in it again, we think, an element of trickery. She had to explain to Isaac why Jacob was suddenly leaving for Laban. So she complained about the annoying behaviour of Esau's Hittite wives — which was no doubt quite true — and hinted that Jacob might follow this bad example.
after
The same doubleness shows in how she speaks to two different people about one decision.
Rebekah had made that decision for Jacob before she spoke to Isaac about it. But her words to Isaac in verse 46 were altogether different from those to Jacob.
A cover story still needs something true underneath it. Rebekah's distress over these marriages was real. On this point she comes off better than her husband.
Still, this much can be said of Rebekah. She shared Isaac's bitterness of spirit over Esau's Hittite wives, and she was the more faithful of the two in her grief at Esau's godless ways. This was what she pressed on her husband about Jacob: that he might be kept from so bad an example. Yet there was an impatience in her tone that left much to be desired. But Scripture tells us things as they were, even about God's people — for it alone reveals God to us.
The scene just before this verse leaves everyone in it looking bad. What follows in the next chapter is a different Isaac, sending Jacob away with a clear charge. This verse is the hinge.
In the humbling scene before this, Isaac and Rebekah and Jacob — to say nothing of Esau — all played such unworthy parts. So it is refreshing here to read of Isaac's godly care for Jacob. It is all the more refreshing because grace used Rebekah to recall her husband's spirit to faithful and righteous ways about their son called to blessing (Gen. 27:46).
Isaac's failure here had been one of neglect, not just of favouritism.
Scripture tells us that Isaac loved Esau. Yet he had not done what Abraham did, who made sure that Isaac's wife came from his own family. Rebekah's words now wake him out of that laxity. He called Jacob and charged him not to take a wife from the Canaanites, but to go to Padan-aram and take a wife from his grandfather's family — one of the daughters of Jacob's uncle Laban.
Esau's two Hittite wives had already brought bitter trouble to his parents. Rebekah's cry is the voice of a parent watching that trouble come home.
She tells Isaac she is tired of living because of the Hittite women, two of whom Esau had married. They clearly went on being a grief of mind to her (Gen. 26:35). How many Christian mothers since then have grieved deeply when their children married unbelievers!
She told Jacob to stay away "a few days." She had pushed him into the deception. Now she is the one who must send him out of reach of what it caused.
"A few days," did she say? Ah, poor Rebekah — for many a long year to be cheated by Laban, as you and Jacob cheated Isaac! No, it will never be yours, whatever comes of Esau's fury and anger, to send and fetch your Jacob back. Indeed it is striking that Scripture passes over her death without notice.
One question remains: why did the sending fall to her?
It was fitting that she should be the one to send into exile the son she had so guiltily instructed. It was fitting that she should never again see, in this life, the one she knew was the object of God's favour and the true heir to the promises. God is, and must be, and ought to be Sovereign. But God is just, and cannot let cunning go unpunished, while He can make no terms with what is profane and ungodly.
- The complaint — Rebekah's weariness over Esau's Hittite wives was real. In that grief she was the more faithful of the two parents.
- The cover — commentators see a trick in it too. The real reason Jacob had to leave was Esau's threat to kill him, and she never told Isaac that.
- The correction — God used her words anyway. Grace recalled Isaac's spirit and woke him from the laxity that had let Esau marry as he pleased.
- The warning — the marriages that broke Rebekah's heart still break hearts. Many parents since have grieved over a child marrying an unbeliever.
- The cost — she said "a few days" and got long years. She sent her favourite son away and never saw him again, and Scripture does not even record her death.
And Isaac called Jacob, and blessed him, and charged him, and said to him, Thou shalt not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan.
Isaac had already blessed Jacob instead of Esau, against his own preference. Now he calls the same son again, and this time the blessing comes with a condition: no wife from among the Canaanites.
Isaac had wanted Esau blessed. This second call shows him accepting God's choice instead.
As we read the opening verses of Genesis 28, it is clear that Rebekah's explanation satisfied Isaac. Indeed at this point we see him in a much more favourable light, speaking as a man of faith. He charges Jacob to go to Padan-aram and find a wife among his own people. He also blesses him in a way that surely shows he now accepted the purpose of God about his two sons. That purpose overruled and cancelled out his own natural leanings.
Commentators differ on how much credit Isaac deserves. One leaves the question open:
Isaac, restored in soul, now follows the line of the promise, and forbids Jacob to take a wife of the daughters of Canaan. This was right; but was it done intelligently, or was he persuaded by Rebekah's fears?
The charge is not snobbery about foreigners. The people of the land were already under God's sentence, though God still held judgment back.
We may notice this feature in the blessing pronounced on Jacob by his father: a "charge" (v. 1) came with it. Jacob must not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan. For they were accursed in Jehovah's eyes, though carrying it out waited until the sin of the Amorites was full. For the wanderer Jacob there was to be as clear a refusal of alliance with the Canaanite as there had been for Isaac.
The charge is also a repair job. Isaac had let Esau marry as he pleased, and only his wife's complaint stirred him to act for the younger son.
Scripture tells us that Isaac loved Esau. Even so, he had not done as Abraham did, who made sure that Isaac's wife came from his own relatives. Rebekah's words to him now clearly wake him out of that slackness. He called Jacob and charged him not to take a wife of the Canaanites. Instead he must go to Padan-aram and take a wife from his grandfather's family.
Isaac himself never left the land. Abraham sent a servant to bring the bride to him. Jacob must travel to Padan-aram, where his grandfather's family lived, and find his own. The same rule of separation binds both men, but their roads mark them out for different places.
So Isaac in his day was to marry not from the people of the land, but from Abraham's land and family. Yet how different the way it happened! Most emphatically he, the bridegroom, must not leave Canaan. Abraham's servant goes to fetch a wife for Isaac from there. That servant was the chief of his household, who ruled over all he had, and he went under solemn oath. Here, on the contrary, Jacob is told to go to Padan-Aram and take a wife from the patriarch's relatives, from Laban's daughters.
The two roads picture more than family history.
So Jacob's earthly place and relations stand out just as plainly as Isaac's heavenly ones. Isaac's history is a picture of sovereign grace calling a bride to the Heir of all things in heavenly places.
Jacob leaves with a blessing on his head — and leaves as a fugitive. The journey Isaac orders here costs him years: his relatives cheat him as he had cheated others.
He became an exile from the land of promise, cheated in a strange land by his own relatives. This was the sad repayment for his crooked ways in grabbing what Jehovah had given him — and what Jehovah would have secured for him in His holy way of faithfulness and truth.
Later generations did not keep the charge. One writer traces the failure through three generations:
Abraham had been most careful about the choice of a wife for Isaac; she was not to be a daughter of the Canaanites. But Isaac clearly did not step in when Esau took wives from the Hittites, though they were a grief of mind to him. Isaac charged Jacob not to take a wife from the daughters of Canaan. Yet Jacob does not seem to have been troubled when Judah joined himself to the Canaanites through Shuah. There is much instruction for Christians in all this: how very careful we should be about our associations, both for ourselves and for our children.
- Corrected — Isaac stops fighting God's choice; the son he did not want to bless he now blesses on purpose.
- Charged — the blessing comes with a condition: no marriage into a people already under God's sentence.
- Contrasted — Isaac never left the land, and his bride came to him. Jacob must travel for his. Two roads, two different portions.
- Chastened — outside Canaan Jacob is cheated himself. That is the repayment for grabbing by trickery what God had already promised him.
- Carried on — later generations let the charge slip. The warning stands: watch your associations, and your children's.
Arise, go to Padan-Aram, to the house of Bethuel thy mother's father, and take a wife thence of the daughters of Laban thy mother's brother.
Isaac sends Jacob off with an instruction: leave Canaan, go to your mother's family, and take a wife from there. Two questions follow. Why a bride from Padan-aram? And why must Jacob travel for her himself?
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The blessing carries a refusal inside it. One writer explains why Canaanite wives were ruled out, and how Jacob's obedience differed from Isaac's:
One thing stands out in the blessing Jacob's father pronounced on him: a "charge" (v. 1) came with it. Jacob must not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan. In Jehovah's eyes they stood accursed. The judgment on them only waited until the guilt of the Amorites was full. Jacob the wanderer had to refuse any tie with the Canaanite as clearly as Isaac did. Yet Isaac was forbidden in the strictest way to leave the land (Gen. 24:6, 8), and his bride had to be brought to him; whereas Jacob goes in search of a wife to the house of his mother's father (v. 2). So Jacob's earthly place and relations stand out as plainly as Isaac's heavenly ones. Isaac's history is a picture of sovereign grace calling a bride for the Heir of all things in heavenly places.
Another writer follows the question of who a child marries down three generations:
Abraham had been most careful about the choice of a wife for Isaac; she was not to be a daughter of the Canaanites. But Isaac clearly did not interfere when Esau chose wives from the daughters of the Hittites. Those wives were a grief of mind to him. Isaac charged Jacob not to take a wife from the daughters of Canaan. Yet Jacob does not appear to have minded when Judah joined himself to the Canaanites through Shuah. There is much for Christians to learn here. We should be very careful about our associations, both for ourselves and for our children. 2 Corinthians 6:14-18 is a Scripture we should ponder in relation to this important subject.
One commentator sees a real change in Isaac at this point:
That Isaac was satisfied with Rebekah's explanation is clear as we read the opening verses of Genesis 28. Indeed at this point we see him in a much more favourable light, and speaking as a man of faith. He charges Jacob to go to Padan-aram and find a wife among his own people. He then blesses him in a way that surely shows he now accepted God's purpose about his two sons. That purpose overruled and cancelled out his own natural inclinations.
Commentators differ on how much credit Isaac deserves. Another writer leaves his motive an open question:
Isaac, restored in soul, now follows in the wake of the promise, and forbids Jacob to take a wife of the daughters of Canaan. This was right; but was it done intelligently, or was he persuaded by Rebekah's fears? However that may be, Jacob is sent to Padan-aram, and the lessons of faith continue in his history.
The name marks a real district, and the family already had roots there:
A farming district in Mesopotamia. The city of Nahor stood there. Terah and his family moved there from Ur of the Chaldees. Rebekah, Leah and Rachel, the wives of Isaac and Jacob, all came from there (Gen. 25:20; Gen. 28:2-7; Gen. 31:18). The exact name is Paddan-aram, meaning 'table land of Aram.'
Jacob obeyed, and obedience cost him. The same writer follows what the journey did to him:
Isaac asks Jacob to go to Padan-aram and take a wife from there of the patriarch's kin, from Laban's daughters. So early must Jehovah visit Jacob according to his ways. He became an exile from the land of promise. In a strange land his own relatives cheated him. This was the sad repayment of his own crooked ways. Those ways grasped at what Jehovah had already given him, and would have secured for him in His own holy way of faithfulness and truth.
- Charge — The blessing came with a ban: no wife from Canaan. God had already condemned that people.
- Contrast — Isaac never left the land, and his bride was brought to him. Jacob had to go and find his own. The difference marks his earthly path.
- Clan — Padan-aram means "table land of Aram." It was the family's home district, and the home of Rebekah, Leah and Rachel.
- Cost — Obedience sent Jacob into exile. There his own relatives cheated him. It was the repayment of his crooked ways, since God had already promised him what he grabbed at.
- Care — The lesson still stands: watch your associations, for yourself and for your children.
And the Almighty God bless thee, and make thee fruitful and multiply thee, that thou mayest become a company of peoples.
Jacob is leaving home, and his father sends him off with a blessing instead of goods. Two questions sit in the verse: why Isaac blesses him so readily now, and why he calls on God as God Almighty.
Isaac had planned to bless Esau. Now he blesses Jacob without hesitation, and that change is the point.
In verses 3 and 4 Isaac blesses Jacob again. He wants God Almighty to make him fruitful and to multiply his descendants. He wants God's promise to Abraham fulfilled through him, both in his descendants and in the possession of the land of promise. It seems clear in this passage that Isaac's thoughts had been corrected, for he did not speak this way to Esau. God had overruled him and given the blessing to Jacob. Isaac at least stayed by that, and here he confirms it in no uncertain terms.
In Hebrew this title is El Shaddai. Writers read its two parts in different ways.
The word El is said to mean strength, omnipotence. Some think Shaddai means the same thing. Others prefer to translate it as all-sufficient, or self-sufficiency. Either way, the two words together carry divine attributes, since omnipotence and all-sufficiency are found in God alone.
God did not use one name in every age. He gave this one to the patriarchs — Abraham, Isaac and Jacob — and each name He gives comes with a way of living.
"Jehovah" is the name of relationship taken with Israel, as "Shaddai" with the patriarchs. God revealed Himself to those fathers as "El Shaddai", and they were to walk in the faith of that name. He revealed Himself as Jehovah to Moses and Israel, and they were to walk in the faith of that name. He reveals Himself to us as Father, and so we are to walk.
Jacob is about to leave the promised land with nothing. This title fits that moment exactly.
God revealed Himself to Abraham as "the Almighty" (El Shaddai). Abraham was called to be a pilgrim, with none but God to look to, so He is revealed to him as the "All Powerful One."
Isaac prays a name he had never received the way Abraham and Jacob did.
It is also worth noting that in verse 3 Isaac says, "God Almighty bless you," and in verse 4, "May He give the blessing of Abraham to you." But the blessing is clearly limited. It reaches only to a "multitude of peoples," and to his inheriting, with his offspring, "the land of his sojournings which God gave to Abraham." Yet we never hear that God appeared to Isaac under that name, as He did to Abraham so plainly in Genesis 17:1... Isaac did not receive it directly, as Abraham and Jacob did.
The prayer asks for fruitfulness, numbers and land. Notice where it stops.
"God Almighty bless you," prayed Isaac, "and make you fruitful and multiply you, that you may become a company of peoples." So it was of old, so it will be yet more in the future. Here, as before, this is blessing on earth only. Not a word points to heaven or eternity. The prayer promises growth on earth, but nothing of a higher order.
One promise given to Abraham is missing here. It is the one that narrows down to a single descendant.
Another mark of difference is of much interest, and Galatians 3:16 points to it. "Now the promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring." The apostle reasons on the one offspring, who is Christ, as against the many descendants, who are Israel... This however is absent from Isaac's blessing on Jacob.
Years later God speaks this name over Jacob Himself. Jacob keeps it on his own lips to the end of his life.
Isaac blessed Jacob in the Name of the Almighty (Gen. 28:3). Later God changed Jacob's name to Israel and said to him, "I am God Almighty… the land that I gave to Abraham and Isaac I will give to you" (Gen. 35:9–12). Jacob uses the Name of the Almighty in Genesis 43:14, 48:3 and 49:25. He knew the omnipotent power of Him who had blessed him despite all his failures.
- Corrected — Isaac stops fighting God's choice. He confirms it in plain words, and speaks to Jacob as he never spoke to Esau.
- Almighty — El Shaddai means strength and all-sufficiency. Commentators differ over which sense the word Shaddai itself carries.
- Pilgrim — this is the name given to men with nothing to lean on but God, and Jacob is leaving the land empty-handed.
- Earthly — the prayer asks for fruitfulness, peoples and land. Heaven, eternity and the one offspring who is Christ are left out.
- Answered — God later speaks this name to Jacob Himself. Jacob dies still naming the Almighty who blessed him despite his failures.
And may he give thee the blessing of Abraham, to thee and to thy seed with thee, in order that thou mayest possess the land of thy sojourning, which God gave to Abraham!
Isaac sends Jacob away to find a wife. As he goes, Isaac hands him the promise first made to Abraham — a land Jacob is about to leave, and one he will only ever live in as a stranger. So what is "the blessing of Abraham"? And how can a man inherit ground he only travels through?
Earlier Isaac had tried to aim the family blessing at Esau, and God overruled him. Now he blesses Jacob knowing exactly who stands in front of him. One commentator finds the proof in this: Isaac never speaks this way to Esau.
Isaac again blesses Jacob in verses 3 and 4. He asks God Almighty to make him fruitful and to multiply his descendants. He asks that God would fulfil through him the promise made to Abraham, both as to his descendants and as to owning the land of promise. It seems clear in this passage that God had corrected Isaac's thinking, for he did not speak this way to Esau. God had overruled him by having the blessing given to Jacob. Isaac at least stayed by that, and here he confirms it in no uncertain terms.
Commentators differ on how much this phrase carries. One reads it as everything Esau threw away — the promise of a coming Seed who would bless all nations:
He calls on God to give "the blessing of Abraham" to him. That blessing carried with it the coming of the "Seed," in whom all nations would be blessed. It was the very heart of that much-wanted birthright.
Another weighs Isaac's actual words and finds them narrow. Isaac names the blessing, then defines it by the land. He says nothing of heaven, of eternity, or of the one Seed:
"God Almighty bless you," prayed Isaac, "and make you fruitful and multiply you, that you may become a company of peoples." So it was of old, and so it will be still more in the future. Here, as before, the blessing is on earth only. Not a word drops that points to heaven or eternity. Growth on earth is sure, but the words reach no higher. Even when Isaac asks God to give him "the blessing of Abraham," to him and to his seed with him, he narrows it to this: "that you may take possession of the land of your sojournings that God gave to Abraham."
Isaac says God gave the land to Abraham. Yet Abraham had to buy a plot just to bury his dead in it. That oddity is not a flaw in the promise — it is the point:
God's gift is absolute and future. Buying a burial-place from the Hittite confirms this rather than weakening it. For who that owned this land, or any other, would think of buying what was already his? He lays his dead in land so clearly not his own that he has to buy it for the purpose — a pledge to faith that he will have it another day… God will surely give "this land" to Abram's seed. They will buy it from no stranger in that day. Nothing that happens in between can touch His promise.
These men called themselves strangers out loud, and this verse is one of three places where they do it:
"They acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth." This was true in the plainest sense, as their journeys carried them on through time. By word of mouth they declared this of themselves. (Gen. 23:4; Gen. 28:4; Gen. 47:9.)
Holding the title deed while living as a tenant is not only Jacob's story. One writer links the same pattern to the Christian through Galatians 3:14:
We notice further that having this blessing meant owning the land of promise in the end, but for now living as strangers in the middle of it. This has a remarkable voice for us. In Galatians 3:14 we read of "the blessing of Abraham" coming "to the Gentiles in Christ Jesus, so that we might receive the promised Spirit through faith." In receiving the Spirit we have the pledge of the heavenly portion that is ours, but for the present we are left as strangers in the place where we are. Our portion lies there in the age to come. Our life as strangers is here in the age that is.
- Corrected. Isaac once aimed the blessing at Esau. Now he speaks it over Jacob with open eyes, and never speaks this way to Esau again.
- Given. The blessing is not Isaac's to invent; he asks God to hand on what God already promised Abraham.
- Disputed. Commentators differ on the reach of "the blessing of Abraham." One sees the promised Seed for all nations in it. Another sees it tied to the land and to earth.
- Unheld. Abraham had to buy a grave in the land God "gave" him — proof that the gift is absolute and still future, not that it failed.
- Sojourning. Jacob inherits a land he is only passing through. Believers receive the Spirit as the pledge of a portion in the age to come, and stay strangers in this one.
And Isaac sent away Jacob; and he went to Padan-Aram, to Laban the son of Bethuel the Syrian, the brother of Rebecca, Jacob's and Esau's mother.
One short line sends Jacob north to his mother's family in Padan-aram. Behind it stand a father acting in faith at last, a son leaving home as an exile, and one question: is God blessing Jacob here, or disciplining him?
Earlier chapters show Isaac in a poor light. Here his tone changes.
At this point we see him in a much more favourable light, and speaking as a man of faith. He charges Jacob to go to Padan-aram and find a wife among his own people, and he blesses him in a way that surely shows he now accepted the purpose of God as to his two sons, which overruled and cancelled out his own natural inclinations. He asks God to give "the blessing of Abraham" to Jacob. That blessing brought with it the coming of the "Seed," in whom all nations would be blessed, and it was the very heart of the birthright Jacob had wanted so much.
Commentators differ on how far Isaac's words reach. Another writer weighs what the prayer never mentions.
"And God Almighty bless you," prayed Isaac, "and make you fruitful, and multiply you, that you may become a company of peoples." So it was of old, so it will be yet more in the future. Here, as before, the blessing is for earth alone. Not one word points to heaven or eternity. It guarantees growth on earth and says nothing higher. Even Isaac's prayer for "the blessing of Abraham," for Jacob and his offspring, narrows to one thing: "that you may take possession of the land of your sojournings that God gave to Abraham."
Isaac never left Canaan to find a wife; a servant brought Rebekah to him. Jacob must make the journey himself.
Here, on the contrary, Jacob must go to Padan-aram and take a wife there from the patriarch's family, from Laban's daughters. So early must Jehovah deal with Jacob according to his ways… He became an exile from the land of promise. In a strange land his own relatives cheated him. That was the sad payment for his crooked ways, used to grab what Jehovah had already given him and would have secured in His holy way of faithfulness and truth.
This is no joyful send-off.
After all this, at the end of his ways though not of his days, Isaac sends Jacob away. The suspicious and frightened Rebekah asked for it. He does it with sorrow, shame and disappointment — the bitter fruit their own way had prepared for them.
From this verse Jacob has no home. That is where God begins to work on him.
We now follow Jacob as he leaves his father's roof, and see him as a homeless, lonely wanderer on the earth. It is here that God's special dealings with him begin… God will carry out His own purpose, no matter by what means. But if His child takes himself out of His hands, unrepentant in spirit and unbelieving in heart, he must expect much sorrowful exercise and painful discipline. So it was with Jacob: he might not have had to flee to Haran, had he allowed God to act for him.
Jacob reaches the land his family came from. He never treats it as home.
His wrong way brings him under divine chastening, and he has to seek the distant land of his forefathers. But he is there as an exile, not as a man at home. He is there because God is disciplining him, not because his own heart wanted it… As he set out, he was already talking eagerly of his return.
One writer reads Jacob's road north as a preview of what would happen to his descendants.
Jacob's departure stands for Israel being driven out of their own land into wandering and suffering, until God brings them back to the land He swore to the fathers of the nation. In the chastening that passed over Jacob we see how God governs Israel.
- Blessed. Isaac sends Jacob off as a man of faith. He has accepted God's choice over his own preference.
- Limited. Isaac prays for fruitfulness and the land. Commentators differ over whether the promised Seed stands inside that prayer.
- Sent. Isaac never left Canaan for a wife; Jacob must go himself. The road to Laban is God dealing with him according to his ways.
- Disciplined. From this verse he is a homeless wanderer, and God's special dealings with him begin. He might have avoided the chastening had he let God act for him.
- Longing. He lives in Padan-aram as an exile, talking of return from the day he sets out. His story maps a nation later scattered and brought home.
And Esau saw that Isaac had blessed Jacob, and sent him away to Padan-Aram, to take a wife thence, blessing him, and giving him a charge saying, Thou shalt not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan;
Esau watched Jacob receive the family blessing and leave to find a wife among their own relatives, not among the Canaanites. What Esau did with what he saw shows the difference between faith and copying.
Esau watched Jacob receive more than a kind farewell. The blessing carried the birthright itself.
Here we see Isaac in a much more favourable light, speaking as a man of faith. He charges Jacob to go to Padan-aram and find a wife among his own people. He blesses him in a way that shows he now accepted the purpose of God about his two sons. That purpose overruled and cancelled out his own natural leanings. He calls on God to give him "the blessing of Abraham." That blessing brought with it the coming of the "Seed," in whom all nations should be blessed. It was the very essence of the birthright Esau had coveted.
Esau noticed three things: the blessing, the charge about marriage, and Jacob's obedience. Each one pushed him toward a plan of his own.
Esau learned that Isaac had given Jacob his blessing and sent him away with a charge not to take a wife from the Canaanites. He also learned that Jacob had accepted his parents' charge and obeyed (vv. 6-7). Then it stirred Esau up that his two wives had not pleased his father (v. 8). Yet how sad was his effort to fix the situation! He seems to have thought his parents would be more pleased if he added another wife, so long as she was related to Abraham! So he took the daughter of Ishmael, the son of the slave woman (v. 9)… He knew his father had only one wife. How could he expect Isaac to be pleased that Esau now had three! But "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8).
Esau copied the outward shape of his brother's obedience. One thing was missing.
Scripture tells us in verses 6-9 that Esau imitated his brother as far as appearance allowed. He did this because his Canaanite wives displeased his father. But God was not in his thoughts; and his imitation fell miserably short. For along with his Hittite wives he took a daughter of Ishmael as wife. She was the child of the slave woman sent away from Abraham's house. There was no faith, only a natural and useless effort after better ways. Apart from faith it is impossible to please God. Anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists, and that He rewards those who seek Him out. This was true of Jacob, in no way of Esau.
Esau's move looked like reform. But the moment for it had already passed.
God made clear the character He put on this transaction with Jacob. Then came Esau's imitation of conduct directed in this way. We must expect this. But in fact it only revives the earlier lawlessness towards God. It does not remedy the evil; it increases it. God had already passed sentence. When there had been any opportunity for it, or good in it, he did not do God's will but his own. Now this imitation was too late.
Ishmael was Abraham's son, so his daughter looked closer to the family line than Esau's Canaanite wives.
In the eyes of God there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and the daughter of Canaan. She was a sorrow to Esau's parents and to God, in nature and in practice. In his second choice Esau came near to the right line. But he stopped short of the mind of God for the descendants of Abraham, the friend of God. How often Christians form close friendships with people who look connected to the Christian faith, but who turn out to be no different from the world.
Esau's whole story runs on one settled character. The New Testament names it with a word older translations give as "profane."
The apostle calls him "a profane person, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright"… So we learn what a profane person is. He is one who would like to hold both worlds. He would like to enjoy the present without losing his title to the future. This is by no means an uncommon case. It pictures for us the worldly person who only claims faith. His conscience has never felt the action of divine truth, and his heart has never felt the influence of divine grace.
- Saw. Esau watched the blessing, the charge, and Jacob's obedience. He saw it all and received none of it.
- Copied. He imitated his brother's course as closely as appearance allowed, but God was not in his thoughts.
- Missed. Without faith the copy is worthless. Anyone who comes to God must believe He exists, and that He rewards those who seek Him out.
- Late. God had already passed sentence. When obedience would have counted, Esau did his own will.
- Near. A daughter of Ishmael came close to the right line and stopped short of God's mind. Friendships built on Christian appearance without Christian reality miss in the same way.
and [that] Jacob had obeyed his father and his mother, and was gone to Padan-Aram.
This verse is part of what Esau saw: his younger brother leaving home at his parents' word. Two questions follow — what exactly was Jacob obeying, and what did Esau do about what he watched?
Jacob's obedience was about marriage. His father shut one door and pointed him through another.
Jacob must not take a wife from the daughters of Canaan. They were accursed in the Lord's eyes, though the carrying out of that sentence waits until the sin of the Amorites is full. For Jacob the wanderer there was to be as clear a refusal of alliance with the Canaanite as there was for Isaac. Only Isaac was forbidden, in the strictest terms, to leave the land. His bride had to come to him. Jacob, by contrast, goes to look for a wife at the house of his mother's father. So Jacob's earthly place and relationships are as plain as Isaac's heavenly ones. Isaac's story pictures sovereign grace calling a bride to the Heir of all things in heavenly places.
Paddan-aram was a real place, and Jacob's family already had roots there.
A farmed district in Mesopotamia, holding the city of Nahor. Terah and his family moved there from Ur of the Chaldees. Rebekah, Leah and Rachel, the wives of Isaac and Jacob, all came from there. The name is strictly Paddan-aram, meaning "table land of Aram."
Jacob obeyed a father whose own leanings had run the other way. The charge and the blessing came from a changed man.
Indeed at this point we see him in a much more favourable light, and speaking as a man of faith. He charges Jacob to go to Padan-aram and find a wife among his own people. He then blesses him in a way that surely shows he now accepted God's purpose for his two sons. That purpose overruled and cancelled out his own natural inclinations. He calls on God to give him "the blessing of Abraham." That blessing carried with it the coming of the "Seed," in whom all nations should be blessed. It was the very heart of the birthright Jacob had wanted so badly.
The same road that carried Jacob into his father's blessing carried him out of the land of promise.
He became an exile from the land of promise. In a strange land his own relatives cheated him. It was the sad repayment of his own crooked ways in gaining what the Lord had given him. The Lord would have secured it for him in His holy way of faithfulness and truth.
Esau watched all this and set out to copy it. The copy failed at the one point that mattered.
Verses 6-9 tell us that Esau copied his brother's appearance as closely as he could, because his Canaanite wives displeased his father. But God was not in his thoughts, and his imitation fell miserably short. Besides the daughters of Heth he took a daughter of Ishmael as a wife — the offspring of the slave woman, cast out of Abraham's house. There was no faith, only a natural and useless effort after better ways. Without faith it is impossible to please God. Whoever comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who seek Him. This was true of Jacob, and in no way of Esau.
Esau's new wife came from Abraham's line, not Canaan's. One writer points out what the record later does with her name.
Esau saw that Jacob had been sent away with his father's blessing, and told not to take a wife from the daughters of Canaan. So he went to Ishmael and took his daughter Mahalath for a wife. Later the Spirit of God, giving the genealogy of Esau, said that he took Bashemath, Ishmael's daughter, for a wife. Historians say the writer of Genesis made a mistake by mixing up the names! We suggest the revised name had deliberate significance. In God's eyes there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and a daughter of Canaan. So in the record she was given a name of Canaan... In his second choice Esau came near to the right line, but stopped short of the mind of God. How often Christians form close friendships with people who outwardly claim the Christian faith. Those people prove to be no different from the world.
- Charge. Jacob's orders were a refusal. He must take no wife from the daughters of Canaan, a people already under God's sentence.
- Blessing. The father who gave that charge had bowed at last to God's purpose for his two sons. He handed Jacob "the blessing of Abraham," the real substance of the birthright.
- Cost. Obedience sent Jacob out of the land as an exile. There his own relatives cheated him — repayment, one writer says, for his crooked way of seizing what God meant to give him.
- Copy. Esau watched, and copied the look of it as closely as he could. But God was not in his thoughts, and without faith no one can please Him.
- Near. A daughter of Ishmael brought Esau near the right line and still short of God's mind. Close friendships with people who claim the faith but live like the world end in the same place.
And Esau saw that the daughters of Canaan were evil in the sight of Isaac his father.
Esau noticed something at last: his Canaanite wives had never sat well with his father. What he did next is the whole weight of this verse. Commentators call it a failure, not a repentance.
Esau's facts were right. He had watched Jacob leave under his father's charge. But knowing what displeases a father is not the same as asking what pleases God.
Verses 6-9 show Esau imitating his brother in appearance, as closely as he could. He did this because his Canaanite wives displeased his father. But God was not in his thoughts, and his imitation fell miserably short. He already had the daughters of Heth. Now he also took a daughter of Ishmael as a wife — the child of the slave woman, cast out of Abraham's house. There was no faith, only a natural and useless effort after better ways. Apart from faith it is impossible to please God. Anyone who draws near to God must believe that He exists, and that He rewards those who seek Him. This was true of Jacob, and in no way of Esau.
His fix was arithmetic, not repentance. Add a wife with better ancestry, and the account should balance. One writer shows how that sum fails on its own terms.
Esau saw that Jacob had obeyed his parents and left with his father's blessing (vv. 6-7). Then Esau took it to heart that his two wives had not pleased his father (v. 8). How sad was his effort to fix it! Apparently he thought another wife would please his parents more, as long as she had some link to Abraham! So he took the daughter of Ishmael, the son of the slave woman (v. 9). This is, of course, the foolish reasoning of the flesh. He knew his father had only one wife. How could Esau expect three wives to please him? In fact, even the third wife on her own would not have pleased Isaac. His half brother Ishmael had persecuted him. But "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8).
Ishmael was, after all, Abraham's son. So the choice looked like a step toward the family of promise. God's verdict was different.
In God's eyes there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and a daughter of Canaan. Genesis 28:9 calls her Mahalath, but the record of Esau's family calls her Bashemath (Gen. 36:3) — the name of one of his Canaanite wives. So Scripture gave her a name of Canaan. She was a sorrow in nature and practice, both to Esau's parents and to God. In his second choice Esau came near the right line. But he stopped short of the mind of God for the descendants of Abraham, the friend of God. How often Christians form close ties with people who carry the outward Christian name. Yet those people prove to be no different from the world.
God directed Jacob's journey through his father's charge. Esau received no such charge, yet he copied the outward move.
God had made plain the character He put on this dealing with Jacob. Then we see Esau imitating conduct that God had directed. We must expect this. But in fact it only revives his earlier lawlessness away from God. It does not remedy the evil; it increases it. The sentence had already been passed. Back when there was any opportunity for obedience, or any good in it, he did his own will and not God's. Now this imitation was too late.
The previous chapter showed Esau ready to kill his brother. One writer reads these verses against that background.
Verses 6-9 are sadly revealing as to Esau's mind. He takes yet another wife. That marriage was bound to displease his parents, and it also went against the purpose of God. In the previous chapter he appears as a would-be murderer. Now he shows himself again as a deliberate and high-handed despiser of God and His word. We saw this contrary spirit in him at the end of Genesis 26. Now we see it break out even more decisively and openly. So it is not hard to understand the words in the last book of the Old Testament: "Esau I have hated."
- Pleasing whom. Esau aimed at his father's taste. He never asked what pleased God. God was not in his thoughts.
- Pleasing by sight. He acted on what he saw: his father disliked the Canaanite wives. So he copied the outward shape of Jacob's obedience, without the faith behind it.
- Pleasing by flesh. A third wife with a link to Abraham was the reasoning of the flesh. And those who are in the flesh cannot please God.
- Pleasing that misses. He came near the right line, then stopped short of the mind of God. In God's eyes Ishmael's daughter was no different from a daughter of Canaan.
- Pleasing too late. The imitation did not cancel the sentence already passed, and it did not mend the evil. It showed a man who despised God's word, not a son who had repented.
And Esau went to Ishmael, and took, besides the wives that he had, Mahalath the daughter of Ishmael Abraham's son, the sister of Nebaioth, to be his wife.
Esau sees Jacob sent away with a blessing and a charge about marriage, and he decides the problem was the kind of wife. So he turns to Ishmael's line, the other branch of Abraham's family, and adds a third wife; the commentators ask whether that is a change of heart or only a change of appearance.
Esau copied his brother's step, but the copy went no deeper than appearance.
Scripture tells us in verses 6-9 that Esau imitated his brother as closely as he could in appearance. He did it because his Canaanite wives displeased his father. But God was not in his thoughts, and his imitation fell far short. Besides the daughters of Heth, he took a daughter of Ishmael as a wife. She was the child of the slave woman, cast out from Abraham's house. There was no faith, only a natural and useless effort after better ways. Apart from faith it is impossible to please God. Anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists, and that He rewards those who seek Him. This was true of Jacob, and in no way of Esau.
Esau kept the wives he had and added one more. Count them, and the effort falls apart.
How sad was his effort to fix the situation! He seems to have thought his parents would be happier if he just added another wife, as long as she had some link to Abraham! So he took the daughter of Ishmael, the son of the slave woman (v. 9). This is, of course, the foolish reasoning of the flesh. He knew his father had only one wife. How could three wives please him? In fact even the third one on her own would not have pleased Isaac. His half brother Ishmael had persecuted him. But "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Rom. 8:8).
Esau acts after the blessing is already gone. One writer says the move made things worse, not better.
Here God made plain the character of His dealing with Jacob. Then Esau imitated the conduct God had directed. We should expect this. But in fact it only revives the old lawless independence from God. It does not remedy the evil but rather increases it. God had already passed sentence. When there had been any opportunity for it, or any good in it, he did his own will and not God's. Now this imitation was too late.
Genesis lists Esau's family later, and this wife appears there under a different name.
One of the wives of Esau, the daughter of Ishmael and the mother of Reuel (Gen. 36:3-4). In the earlier account, Gen. 26:34 and Gen. 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Gen. 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or they may have received another name at their marriage. It seems likely that Bashemath, daughter of Ishmael, is the same as Mahalath, daughter of Ishmael.
Commentators read the two names in very different ways. One takes the change to Bashemath as God's verdict on the marriage.
We suggest the changed name had deliberate significance. In God's eyes there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and a daughter of Canaan. So the record gives her a name of Canaan. She was a sorrow by name, and no less a sorrow in nature and practice, to the parents and to God. In his second choice Esau came near to the right line. But he stopped short of the mind of God for the descendants of Abraham, the friend of God. How often Christians form close ties with people who are linked to Christian profession only on the outside. Those people turn out to be no different from the world.
Another writer looks at the same marriage from Ishmael's side, and starts with what his daughter's name means.
How lovely it is to find that the name of Ishmael's daughter Mahalath (Gen. 28:9) means "forgiven"! … Through God's amazing grace, Genesis 28:9 shows this very daughter of Ishmael, Mahalath, brought back as a bride. She returns to the very home her father had lost through his sin.
- Near. Esau moved closer to the right family line, but "stopped short of the mind of God" — the whole verse turns on that gap.
- Copy. He matched his brother's outward step, but God was not in his thoughts. Imitation without faith cannot please Him.
- Count. Three wives could never please a father who had one. Adding one more wife is the reasoning of the flesh.
- Late. God had already passed sentence. A fix that comes after the blessing is gone revives the old self-will instead of undoing it.
- Grace. Commentators read the names differently. One hears "sorrow" in Bashemath. Another hears "forgiven" in Mahalath, and sees a daughter of the cast-out line brought home.
And Jacob went out from Beer-sheba, and went towards Haran.
Jacob walks away from his father's house, and it is a flight: he has wronged his brother, and now the land of promise is behind him. What looks like the low point of his life is where God begins to deal with him.
The move away from home starts a new chapter, but Jacob's own scheming built the road.
We now follow Jacob as he leaves his father's roof. We see him as a homeless and lonely wanderer on the earth. Here God's special dealings with him start. Jacob now begins to feel, in some measure, the bitter fruit of his conduct toward Esau. At the same time we see God rising above all the weakness and folly of His servant... he might not have had to flee to Haran, had he allowed God to act for him.
The cost of that flight shows up in what is missing from the years that follow.
His unbelief has driven him out of the land of promise. His pilgrimage is not, like that of Abraham, in the land, but outside of it. It is true, God watches over him, waits on him, and preserves him; but he does not walk with God. He has no altar till his return, after a course of painful experiences... For twenty-one years he had to do with men who cheated and oppressed him, while God preserved him in secret.
Both place names in this verse carry meaning.
Beer-sheba means "the well of the oath" and Haran means "mountaineer". We have a picture of Israel going out from the presence of God, away from the promise of God's blessing — that is the "well of God's oath". Israel goes to live in the mountain, the mountain of law-keeping. This is the case with every true believer who gets away from the Lord who loves to have His own near Himself... The further a person gets from the Lord the more legal he becomes, as a matter of fact, and seeks to justify himself.
God did not stop Jacob at the scene of the crime. He waited until the road had stripped him bare.
On the first stage of his journey, Jacob stops for the night. There we see him a lonely man, only the sky above him, and darkness closing around him. Strange as it may seem, it is in this lonely place, lying on the stony bed his sin had made, that the Lord meets him. The Lord had nothing to say to him by his father's bedside, in the place where he sinned. But in the dreary spot where his sin had cast him, the Lord draws near. He turns his comfortless bed into a place of correction and consolation.
Two lessons run side by side, and neither cancels the other.
First, for his consolation, he will learn that all his failures will not alter God's purpose to bless him in sovereign grace. Second, for his correction, he will learn that God's sovereign grace will not stop God's chastening hand because of his failures... Jacob's circumstances are not changed. He still has to go on his lonely way as a wanderer. He must spend long years in toil and bondage in a stranger's house, because of his sin against his father and brother. He has to reap what he has sown. If Jacob deceives his father with the skins of goats, then in years to come his own sons will deceive him with the blood of a goat.
The exile that punished him also taught him what he could never have learned at home.
God is above all, and it is His special right to bring good out of evil. So it is quite true that Jacob's own restless and deceitful acting forced him into exile from his father's house. It is just as true that he could never have learned the meaning of "Bethel" had he stayed at home... It was when his own folly drove him from Isaac's house that he was led to taste, in some measure, the blessedness and solemnity of "God's house."
Jacob's departure also traces the story of the nation that came from him.
Jacob values the blessing of God, but seeks it in cunning, fleshly ways, the very opposite of faith... That is how Israel stumbled at the stumbling-stone, and became wanderers from the land of promise, exiled by their sin. Yet Jacob, an exile from his father's house, finds God at Bethel watching over him and providing for him, and promising him a final return to his father's house in peace. In the same way God has watched over his descendants in all their wanderings.
- Departure. Jacob leaves Beersheba as a fugitive from his own scheming. The exile is the bitter fruit of not letting God act for him.
- Direction. He trades the "well of the oath" for "mountaineer", the mountain of law-keeping — away from promise, toward self-justification.
- Deprivation. Outside the land God preserves him in secret, but he has no altar and no full communion until he returns.
- Disclosure. In the dreary place his sin had made, God draws near — consolation and correction in the same night. Grace blesses him, yet he still reaps what he sowed.
- Destiny. Jacob's flight is Israel's story: exiles driven out by sin, yet watched over and promised a way home.
And he lighted on a certain place, and lodged there, because the sun had set. And he took [one] of the stones of the place, and made [it] his pillow, and lay down in that place.
Jacob has left Beersheba, and night catches him in open country with a stone under his head. Yet it is here, and not at his father's bedside, that the Lord meets him.
Jacob is not camping by choice. His own sin drove him out here, and one writer is struck by where the Lord chose to meet him.
In the first stage of his journey, Jacob lights on a certain place where he stays for the night. There we see him a lonely man with a stone for his pillow, only the sky above him, and darkness closing around him. Yet, strange as it may seem to us, the Lord meets him in this lonely place, lying on the stony bed his sin had made. The Lord had nothing to say to him by his father's bedside, in the place of his sinning. But in the dreary spot where his sin had cast him, the Lord draws near. He turns his comfortless bed into a place of correction and comfort.
Everything the verse lists is a negative — no roof, no bedding, no light. That, one writer argues, is the qualification.
Here we find the homeless wanderer in the very position where God could meet him, and where He could unfold His purposes of grace and glory. Nothing could speak of helplessness and nothingness more clearly than Jacob's condition here. He lies under the open sky, with a pillow of stone, helpless in sleep. This is how the God of Bethel unfolded to Jacob His purposes for him and his descendants.
Older translations call the stone a "pillow." One writer finds meaning in how hard it was, and contrasts it with a very different pillow in the New Testament.
I do not suppose he was too comfortable lying on a stone. I think that pictures his inner discomfort — he did not have an easy conscience. The stone speaks to us of the law. Several times in Jacob's history we see something that reminds us of the hard, cold stone tablets that carried the commandments. That is not the pillow you would choose. It stands in contrast to John's. John had for a pillow Jesus' chest (John 13:23) — what a difference!
That same rejected stone does not stay under his head. By morning it has a second life.
Banished Jacob comes to Luz, weary and in darkness. He does not find even a hut to welcome him. He finds a stone, rejected by men, waiting for him on the ground. In the darkness he makes this stone his pillow. When the light comes, he sets it up with a holy anointing, as a pillar of testimony and worship.
The verse gives a reason for the stop: the sun had set. One writer compares this with how God appeared to Abraham in broad daylight, and suggests the darkness suited Jacob's state.
The Lord appeared to Jacob in the dark after the sun had set. This is quite different from the Lord's appearance to Abraham in the heat of the day as he sat in his tent door (Gen. 18:1), where everything was clear and bright and Abraham ran to meet the Lord... If the Lord had appeared to Jacob in the heat of the day, what would he have done? If Jacob had seen the Lord coming he would have run away.
Being shut down for the night is not lost time.
Jacob, in this movement away from God, comes to the end of his day. He lies down in a certain place to rest, and God withdraws him from the activities that filled his day. How often we are busy with the passing things of the day, with no time for the things of God! But God in His mercy is withdrawing Jacob and securing his attention in his sleeping hours... God had much in mind for Jacob. The great thing God had in mind was to fashion him as a worshipper.
Genesis records a matching detail much later, and it is deliberate.
As he passed over Peniel we are told, "The sun rose upon him." That is a designed contrast with Genesis 28:11, when he had left Beersheba: "the sun had set." The night of darkness in our lives passes only when the flesh is crippled (or judged), and we learn to cling only to the Lord.
- Sunset. Jacob's night is the fruit of his own sin — he lies on the bed that sin made.
- Stone. The hard pillow pictures an uneasy conscience and the law, in contrast to John resting on Jesus.
- Stripped. Helplessness is the very position in which God could meet him and unfold His purposes of grace and glory.
- Sleep. God withdraws him from the day's activity to hold his attention and to shape him into a worshipper.
- Sunrise. The stone under his head becomes a pillar of worship. The night breaks at Peniel, when the flesh is judged.
And he dreamed, and behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to the heavens. And behold, angels of God ascended and descended upon it.
Jacob is a fugitive, sleeping on open ground with a stone under his head after the sin at his father's bedside. There God gives him a dream of a ladder: is it a stairway man climbs, or a road God travels down?
Where God met him is part of the message.
There we see a lonely man with a stone for his pillow, only the sky above him, and darkness closing around him. Yet the Lord meets him in this lonely place, as he lies on the stony bed his sin had made. The Lord had nothing to say to him at his father's bedside, in the place of his sinning. But in the dreary spot where his sin had cast him, the Lord draws near. He turns his comfortless bed into a place of correction and consolation.
Notice where the foot of the ladder came down.
Jacob saw a ladder set up. Its top entered heaven, and its foot rested just on the spot where he was lying. It was a lowly, dishonoured place. It also bore witness to his wrong and his misery. But the ladder adopted it. The Lord was in His glory above it, and His voice spoke to Jacob of blessing, of security, of guidance, and of inheritance.
Some read the ladder as a picture of spiritual self-improvement. Commentators reject that.
Some have imagined that this means man can climb up to heaven by his own spiritual energy, rising step by step through human effort into favour with God. But it has nothing to do with man going up. The same is true when the Lord tells Nathanael he would "see the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man" (John 1:51).
Genesis has already shown what happens when men build upward on their own.
At Babel men tried to raise themselves to heaven by a tower they built. It ended in scattering and confusion. But God has established a link between heaven and earth, shown by the ladder in his dream. In those days angels maintained that link. The LORD Himself was at the top of the ladder. Poor Jacob the fugitive was at the bottom, needing a blessing and getting it.
The angels on the ladder are moving under orders.
Above the ladder was the Lord Himself. This showed that He directed the angels' ministry. He sent them out on their missions on earth, and they came back to Him to give account of what they had done for Him.
Those same beings come near to God's people, not only to Jacob.
The angels of God are there close to Jacob. These mighty beings excel in strength and always move in relation to the will of God, and they are near to the saints... Above all that, "The LORD" — God in relation to His people — is standing at the top of the ladder. The word "stand" there shows no casual stance. It shows the settled purpose of the blessed God to place Himself in relation to the circumstances of the saints, so that they come through with real gain and become worshippers of God. Nothing will make Him move from that stance.
Many read the ladder as a picture of Christ Himself.
It formed the means of communication between heaven and earth. And "behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it" — what a striking and beautiful picture of Him! By Him God has come down into all the depth of man's need. By Him God has also brought man up and set him in His own presence for ever, in the power of divine righteousness.
Commentators differ here. Another writer calls that reading a mistake.
Some make the common mistake of saying that Christ is the ladder on which angels descend, joining heaven and earth. That error is repeated here, so I point it out. Christ has Jacob's place, not the ladder's. Jacob was at the foot of the ladder, and these messengers were coming down and going up from God to him, and from him to God. Now the Son of Man was to be the object. God's angels would have the Son of Man as the object of their service from an open heaven.
The dream still waits for its full answer.
This will be fulfilled when heaven opens and the angels of God ascend and descend on the Son of Man. In short, it will be fulfilled when God carries out His purposes through Christ in a renewed earth. Angels will be His ready instruments for blessing and for government.
- Down — the ladder rests on the ground where Jacob's sin had thrown him. God comes to the dishonoured place; He does not wait at a better one.
- Down, not up — the dream is not about climbing into favour by human effort. Babel tried that and ended in confusion.
- Down and back — angels come down on errands and return to report. The Lord above directs them, and nothing moves Him from that stance.
- Down in Person — is the ladder a picture of Christ coming into man's need? Or does Christ take Jacob's place, as the One the angels serve? Commentators differ.
- Down at last — the vision waits for the day heaven opens over the Son of Man, and angels serve Him to bless and govern the earth.
And behold, Jehovah stood above it. And he said, I am Jehovah, the God of Abraham, thy father, and the God of Isaac the land on which thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed.
Jacob is a runaway, spending the night alone with a stone under his head. Then God speaks to him from above a ladder. What He says is not a rebuke but a gift. God promises him the very ground he lies on, and promises it to his descendants too.
The dream answers Jacob at his lowest point. It shows how heaven and earth are joined.
God has set up a link between heaven and earth. The ladder in Jacob's dream shows it. In those days that link worked through the service of angels. Jehovah Himself was at the top of the ladder and poor Jacob, the fugitive, at the bottom, needing a blessing and getting it.
Before a single promise, God gives His name — and the names attached to it are the two men He had already chosen.
Every word spoken by the Lord was in richest grace. There was not, as we might have expected, a solemn rebuke to Jacob for his shameful conduct. The Lord had not overlooked Jacob's sins, but at this time He was declaring His sovereign grace. This is clear from His opening words. He declared Himself "the LORD, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac." He had called Abraham and chosen Isaac by His sovereign choice. Now He was stepping in to bless Jacob, despite all that Jacob was by nature.
The verse calls Abraham Jacob's father, though Abraham was his grandfather. Naming both men settles where the blessing comes from.
There was to be no mistaking it: Jacob's blessing did not depend on Jacob's faithfulness. Its source went back not only to his father and his grandfather, but to the living God. God had revealed Himself in grace to both Abraham and Isaac. He would not change His purpose, even though Jacob was a failing vessel.
Every promise here begins with God Himself. He asks nothing of Jacob in return. One writer draws a hard rule from that.
Jacob was such a sinner, and so completely stripped of all claim, both by birth and by practice, that he had nothing left to rest on. He had only God's purpose of pure, free, and sovereign grace. So the revelation the Lord gives His chosen servant is simply a record or prediction of what He Himself would yet do. "I am … I will give … I will keep … I will bring … I will not leave you until I have done what I have spoken to you of." It was all Himself. There is no condition whatever. No if or but; for when grace acts there can be no such thing. Where there is an if, it cannot possibly be grace.
The gift is exact. God does not point to some distant country. He gives Jacob the ground he is sleeping on, and that promise still has a future.
The first thing promised to Jacob was the land on which he was lying, given to him and to his offspring. This renewed the promise given to Abraham and Isaac. That promise has already had a partial fulfilment. It awaits full fulfilment when Israel, under Messiah, will hold the promised land.
The wording of what follows the land promise is measured. One writer notes what God says — and what He pointedly does not say.
Jacob spent the night there with nothing but stones for a pillow. But Jehovah stood above the ladder and promised him the land — the land he was lying on so miserably — for him and his offspring. Whatever the sad and lonely beginning, this should be the glorious end.
One writer links this scene to words of Jesus in the Gospel of John.
Our Lord refers to the vision at Bethel in John 1:51. The Jehovah who stood above Jacob's ladder is the same One who spoke to Nathanael. He said, "You will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man." … Here again is sovereign mercy. What did Jacob do to deserve all this? Why should God meet him like this? Did he think of the Lord and call on Him for mercy before he slept on the stone? Nothing whatsoever. And Jehovah kept His promise and did all He had promised.
- Position — Jacob is a fugitive asleep on stones, at the bottom of the ladder, needing a blessing and getting it.
- Person — God names Himself the God of Abraham and Isaac. The blessing rests on His choice, not on Jacob's faithfulness.
- Promise — the speech is all "I am… I will": no if, no but; where there is an if, it cannot be grace.
- Place — God gives him the very ground under his head, for him and his offspring: partly fulfilled already, fully when Messiah reigns.
- Presence — the Lord standing above the ladder is the One Jesus points Nathanael to, God's own link between heaven and earth.
And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south; and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.
God speaks these words over a man asleep on a stone, running from the brother he cheated. He promises him countless descendants, land in every direction, and blessing for every family on earth.
The promise is not payment for anything Jacob had done. It is God announcing what He has decided to do:
God reveals Himself to Jacob as the One who is determined to bless man in sovereign grace. "In you," says God, "and in your offspring shall all the families of the earth be blessed." Moreover, what God has promised He will perform. He will be faithful to His own word.
God's words hold no rebuke, though Jacob's conduct had earned one:
Every word spoken by the Lord was in richest grace. There was not, as we might have expected, a solemn rebuke to Jacob for his shameful conduct. The Lord had not overlooked Jacob's sins, but He was at this time declaring His sovereign grace. The One who in His sovereign choice had called Abraham and had chosen Isaac was stepping in to bless Jacob in spite of everything he was by nature.
Dust is a chosen picture. One writer traces the images God gave to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob:
The first time God made a promise to Abraham about his offspring He told him it would be as "the dust of the earth" (Gen. 13:16). The next time God spoke of that offspring in Genesis 15:5, He said it would be as "the stars." Then in Gen. 22:17 He added a third thing, saying it would be "as the sand." ... When God confirms it to Jacob, He tells him, "Your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth" (Gen. 28:14). Isaac pictures the heavenly company and Jacob the earthly company. So to Isaac the stars are mentioned and to Jacob the dust. ... We have long understood the stars to stand for the heavenly company, the dust Israel and the sand the Gentiles.
The wording shifts too. Jacob hears "in you and in your offspring," and one writer ties that second phrase to the millennium — the coming age when Christ reigns on earth:
God confirmed the promises to him — that his descendants would have the land, and that all nations would be blessed in his Seed. There was this difference. With the second promise it says "in you and in your offspring," because it includes the earthly blessings to his offspring in the millennium.
The four directions belong to the same earthly picture:
The Lord further stresses the earthly character of Jacob's blessing. He says that his descendants would spread "to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south." There are no such directions in heaven. More than this, in Jacob and his offspring all the families of the earth will be blessed. This is a firm, absolute declaration.
Part of this promise can already be counted:
Scripture gives plenty of witness to the fulfilment of this part of the promise. Today, after all the efforts of different nations and people to wipe out the offspring of Jacob, it is reckoned that there are over thirteen million of them in the world.
The promise keeps one figure at its centre. One writer follows it through Genesis:
God confirms the promise to Isaac in Genesis 26:4 and to Jacob in Genesis 28:14, and in both cases "the Seed" is mentioned. Once the Seed is introduced, He is never left out, for in truth everything in the way of fulfilment depends on Him.
The reach of that blessing takes in nations that were once Israel's bitterest enemies:
Even the long-standing foes of Israel, Egypt and Assyria, will be blessed in relation to the offspring of Jacob. Of that millennial day it is written, "Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel my inheritance" (Isa. 19:24-25). No doubt the latter part of this can be applied to Christ, as it is in the promise made to Abraham (Gal. 3:16), for it is under Christ's reign, and because of His death on the cross, that the blessing comes to Jew and Gentile, both now and in the world to come.
The blessing has a shape — an inner circle and an outer one:
This is the order of blessing in the world to come. The Jews are in the inner circle, and in the outer are the Gentiles, blessed through them, glad and singing for joy, for God will govern in righteousness.
- Grace first. The promise comes to a runaway with a stone for a pillow, and it carries no rebuke — God says what He is determined to do.
- Dust, on purpose. Stars went to Isaac, dust to Jacob: the picture marks out Jacob's line as God's earthly people.
- Spread, not gathered. West, east, north and south are earthly directions. They set Israel at the centre of a widening circle.
- Through the Seed. Once "the Seed" enters the promise, He is never dropped. Everything depends on Him.
- Out to the edges. The blessing lands where it was always aimed: all the families of the earth, even old enemies, blessed under Christ's reign.
And behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all [places] to which thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee until I have done what I have spoken to thee of.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Jacob awoke from his sleep, and said, Surely Jehovah is in this place, and I knew [it] not.
Jacob lay down at a random stopping place with a stone for a pillow. He woke to find he had been sleeping in the presence of God. His words admit what he had not known, and that admission is where the commentators start.
One writer sets out how low Jacob had sunk when he stopped for the night:
When Jacob first reached Luz — the place he later called Bethel — he was as badly off as anyone on earth. He had been sent away from his family, and he deserved it. He was homeless and friendless. His future was uncertain. All he owned was a staff. His bed was the ground and his pillow a stone. There he lay down to sleep. But the Lord was in that place. Never did he receive such a revelation of Him, and of His endless resources in heaven and on earth, as he did at Bethel. Never did he receive richer promises of constant, watchful care and of future blessing. And he found Him faithful Who had promised.
The second half of Jacob's sentence matters as much as the first. One writer asks what it means to be near God without knowing it, and why that was dreadful for Jacob but is delightful for us:
The dream woke Jacob up to the fact that God was there. We may be in the presence of God and not know it at all. That is a solemn thought. To Jacob it was more than solemn; it was dreadful. But that was because he had no settled standing before God on the ground of redemption. Believers could only say "We also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ," having received the reconciliation, once the death and resurrection of Christ had actually happened. For us the presence of God is not dreadful but delightful.
Why did God come to this man at all? One writer looks at what Jacob brought to the meeting:
Here again is Sovereign Mercy. What did Jacob do to merit all this? Why should God meet him thus? Did he think of the Lord and call on Him for mercy before he slept on the stone? Nothing whatsoever. And Jehovah kept His promise and did all He had promised. "I will not leave you" is a repeated promise. See Deut. 31:6; Josh. 1:5; 1 Chronicles 28:20; Hebrews 13:5-6.
Jacob found the meeting dreadful, not delightful. One writer traces that to Jacob himself, not to anything God had said:
God's revelation of Himself is one thing. Our resting in that revelation is quite another. God shows Himself to Jacob in infinite grace. But as soon as Jacob wakes up, we see his true character come out. We see how little he really knew of the blessed One who had just revealed Himself to him so wonderfully... His heart was not at home in the presence of God. No heart can be at home there until it has been fully emptied and broken. God is at home — blessed be His name — with a broken heart, and a broken heart is at home with Him.
Jacob named the spot and set up a pillar. But that did not change the direction he was going:
God met Jacob there. That is why he called it Bethel, "the house of God." In doing so he recognised a very important principle in God's ways. He raised a pillar up and called it God's house, but still he kept on going the wrong way... On the spot where Jacob raised the pillar there was a wilderness but it was where God was. That is the important thing about God's house: it is where God Himself is... Bethel was called Luz at first. Luz means "separation" and Bethel means "house of God." The house of God is always separate from everything else.
Years later God called Jacob back to this place. One writer draws out the pattern:
In calling him back to the land of promise, God revealed Himself to him as "the God of Bethel," reminding him of the pillar he anointed and the vow that he made. So God called him back to the beginning of his direct dealings with Him. This is always God's way with His people. We may wander away, but we have to come back to the very spot we left. The point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
- Place. Jacob's Bethel was a wilderness with a stone for a pillow. What made it the house of God was God Himself being there, not the ground.
- Presence. His words admit that God had been there all along. We can be in God's presence and not know it.
- Priority. Jacob had not prayed, had not asked, had done nothing to deserve the visit. God came first.
- Panic. He was frightened, not glad. His heart was not yet at home with God, and commentators put the problem in Jacob, not in God's words.
- Path back. The place where his dealings with God began became the place God later called him back to. The point of departure is the point of recovery.
And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.
Jacob had left home as a fugitive, and God met him in a dream with promises he had done nothing to earn. He woke up frightened, and named the place twice over: God's house, and the door into heaven. (The ESV reads "How awesome is this place." Older translations read "How dreadful," and the writers below use that wording.)
Nothing in the dream was threatening. The dread came from what Jacob knew about himself.
We might have thought that Jacob would wake up in delight after such a wonderful vision and such amazing promises from God. But it was not so, for he was afraid. He knew he was in the presence of God, and that brought terror to the heart of a man who had deceived his father and robbed his brother. He had not come into God's presence by choice. He himself said, "Surely the LORD is in this place, and I did not know it." God's presence is not an attractive place to a wrongdoer. It is the last place he wants to be, because God's presence exposes what he really is.
The same writer adds a contrast. The sinful woman of Luke 7 felt no such dread before Jesus, and neither did the son welcomed home by his father. "All fear is driven from the heart that truly knows the love and grace of a Saviour God."
Jacob's dread did not shrink the vision.
But Jacob's soul was not quite up to this way of grace. He found the place "dreadful" — the place where he saw the ladder and the angels, and where the God of his fathers spoke to him. In some sense it was too much for him... But the ladder still reaches to heaven, and the angels are going up and down it in Jacob's sight... For the grace of God is richer than what the soul understands of it. God shines in Himself, above our experiences. And it is in Himself that He is to be known, not in the reflections of our experience.
Jacob's phrase opens a theme the rest of the Bible carries.
The first mention of the house of God is in Genesis 28:17; the last, in Revelation 21:3. From the first book to the last, the house of God has a very great place in the purpose of God. It reaches from the present creation in time right on to the new heavens and earth in eternity. What the house is made of may vary from period to period. In Old Testament days it was boards and curtains, and later stones. Today it is believers, or living stones. But the purpose of the house is always the same: to be a dwelling place for God among men.
So what made this spot the house of God?
Jacob recognized that where the LORD shows His presence, there is the house of God.
The second half of Jacob's confession is not decoration. A gate in Scripture is a working place.
The first mention of a gate is in Genesis 19:1, where Lot sat in the gate of Sodom. This shows that the word means more than a place to go in and out. It also means the place where men of age and wisdom sat to give judgment. So "gate" has a figurative meaning as well as a literal one. Where God dwells in His house, there is the place of heaven's administration and judgment.
The gate is also for our use, and it is not far away:
The gate presents the thought of access to heaven. Through the gate we are able to get in touch with heaven for praise and prayer. And note this: the gate is not in some far-off place beyond the edge of the earth. The gate of heaven is always on earth, and here, while we are on earth, we are to use the gate.
Many readers take the ladder itself as a picture of Christ, joining heaven and earth. One writer calls that a mistake:
This is not very important to our present subject. But the common error appears here again — that Christ is the ladder on which angels descend, uniting heaven and earth. So I will note it. Christ has Jacob's place, not the ladder's. Jacob was at the foot of the ladder, and these messengers were coming down and going up, from God to him and from him to God. Now the Son of Man was to be the object. God's angels would have the Son of Man as the object of their service from an open heaven.
- Presence. Jacob's confession starts with a discovery, not a doctrine — God was there all along, and he had not known it.
- Dread. That presence terrified him. A guilty conscience finds God's nearness exposing. The promises were pure grace, and he still woke afraid.
- Grace. His fear measured him, not God. The ladder still stood, the angels still moved, and grace remained richer than his understanding of it.
- House. His words open the Bible's first door onto the house of God. The theme runs on to Revelation 21:3, always with one purpose: a dwelling place for God among men.
- Gate. A gate is both an entrance and a seat of judgment. It gives access to heaven for praise and prayer, and heaven administers from it. That gate stands on earth, and we can use it now.
And Jacob rose early in the morning, and took the stone that he had made his pillow, and set it up [for] a pillar, and poured oil on the top of it.
Jacob had slept at Luz with a stone for a pillow. In the morning he stands that stone up and pours oil on it — why a stone, why oil, and what does the act say about him?
One writer reads the stone at both stages — pillow, then pillar — as a picture of Christ:
We know that Christ is the "stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious." We know that though to the natural mind it seems a hard and comfortless pillow, the spiritual mind arriving at Luz (separation) finds sweet rest and a soft pillow in the heart of Jesus — a pillow of rest first, and then this same Jesus a pillar of witness and worship, anointed with oil — the Holy Spirit. And so Luz becomes Bethel — the house of God! This is the wanderer's sanctuary.
The shape Jacob chose carried its own meaning:
And further, Jacob's action in taking one of the stones that had served him as a pillow, and anointing it as a pillar, and identifying it with God's house, is remarkable and significant in the light of 1 Timothy 3:15. In ancient times pillars were used for support, as we see in Solomon's temple. But they were also set up as witnesses to certain facts. Three times we read of Jacob raising pillars; here and in Genesis 31 and Genesis 35, each time as a witness.
Another writer says what the stone witnessed to, and what the oil stands for:
The pillar indicated testimony or witness (Gen. 31:52). In this case the witness was to the unfailing faithfulness and mercy of God (the LORD God of Abraham, etc.). The oil was a type of the Holy Spirit who makes the house of God a living reality now. Jacob named the place Bethel, or house of God, although no real house then existed.
Oil served everyday needs and sacred ones. The sacred use is what Jacob reaches for here:
There were three general uses to which it was put: for food, for light, and for anointing… it was used again and again to anoint or consecrate persons, places and articles. So priests were anointed, and the tabernacle with its various articles of furniture. David and all the kings of Judah were anointed. Elisha the prophet was to be anointed. A striking case is Jacob's anointing of the pillar at Bethel (Gen. 28:18; Gen. 31:13), where he set apart the place as "the house of God," a kind of anticipation of the tabernacle.
This passage is where the house of God first appears in Scripture, and Jacob's two words — house and gate — are read as two abiding privileges:
Jacob says, "This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Then he sets up "a pillar, and poured oil on the top of it." The gate presents the thought of access to heaven. Through the gate we are able to get in touch with heaven for praise and prayer. And let it be said, this gate is not in some far-off place beyond the bounds of earth. The gate of heaven is always on earth, and here, while we are on earth, we are to use the gate.
Commentators differ on whether the anointed pillar is a fine response or a poor one. Some see grace doing its proper work in him:
And so with us, divine grace brings such vast and eternal blessings, and so wholly undeserved, that it awakens hearts, makes us know that we are in the presence of God, exercises the conscience, and draws out our souls in worship.
Another writer sets this pillar beside the two Jacob raised later:
His first had been one of confidence in the flesh (ch. 28:18-22); his second was the pillar of broken confidence (ch. 31:45), signifying the untrustworthiness of the flesh. This third is the pillar of confidence in God. For this time he makes no vow, but pours a drink offering and oil on the pillar…
- Stone. Jacob's pillow became his pillar. Writers read it as a picture of Christ: rest in the dark, then a monument in the light.
- Pillar. A pillar holds something up, or it bears witness. Jacob raised three, each one a witness — here, to God's unfailing faithfulness and mercy.
- Oil. Anointing set people, places and objects apart for God. Here it set the place apart as the house of God — an early hint of the tabernacle, and a figure of the Spirit.
- Bethel. Jacob called the place the house of God, and also a gate — access to heaven for praise and prayer. That gate is on earth, where we are.
- Test. Commentators differ: was this worship drawn out by grace, or confidence in himself? Years later Jacob came back to the same place and raised a better pillar, with no vow attached.
And he called the name of that place Beth-el; but the name of that city was Luz at the first.
Jacob wakes from his dream and renames the ground he slept on. The old name of the town stays on record beside the new one, which raises three questions: what did "Luz" mean, why call a bare hillside "the house of God," and what became of the place later?
Writers differ on what the older name meant. Some read it as a word for setting apart, and draw a lesson from it about God's dwelling:
He set up the stone he had used as a pillow and poured oil on it, calling the place Bethel, "the house of God." Abraham had lived earlier between Bethel and Ai (Gen. 12:8), and Jacob renames the place. "The name of the city was Luz at the first" (v. 19). This name means "separation," and it reminds us that the house of God must keep a place of holy separation from all the principles of man's civilization.
Others take the word to mean a curve or bending, and hear in the change something about the man as much as the map:
The old name of the place was Luz, meaning a curve. It pointed to what Jacob's life had been — far from straight. But now for Jacob it was Bethel, the dwelling place of God, and it had a very significant place in his later history.
The first mention of God's house in the Bible comes to a man with no home of his own:
The first passage in Scripture that speaks of the House of God is Genesis 28:10-22. There Jacob, the homeless wanderer, sees a vision of the House of God. At once two things come before us: the purpose of God, and the responsibility of man towards God's House. God reveals Himself to Jacob as the One who is determined to bless man in sovereign grace... The gate stands for access to Heaven. Through it we reach Heaven with praise and prayer. And this gate is not in some far-off place: the gate of Heaven is always on earth, and while we are here we are to use it.
Jacob built nothing at Bethel. He set up a stone and poured oil on it. One writer draws a warning from later attempts to copy him:
Jacob set up a pillar and poured oil on the top of it (v. 18); the pillar indicated testimony or witness (Gen. 31:52). Here the witness was to the unfailing faithfulness and mercy of God... The oil was a picture of the Holy Spirit, who makes the House of God a living reality now. Jacob named the place Bethel, or House of God, although no real house stood there. Since that day many have tried to copy Jacob's example. They have put up houses and memorials of different kinds and called them God's, but without prophetic insight. As a result they have blurred the features of the real house.
The name was a memorial of a promise made to a man at his lowest point:
The place where Jacob stopped would be marked by the mixed fortunes of Israel. It was no picture of the church. Jehovah made Bethel a pledge of sure mercy to Jacob when he had nothing left — whatever the king, raised up to punish the people, would later twist it into in honour of a strange and rival god.
Jacob names Bethel twice: here, and again on his return. Some have argued that the two namings come from two rival accounts. One writer answers plainly:
In the case of Bethel, God appeared to Jacob when he left the land of Canaan, and he called the name of the place "Bethel." On his return, God tells him to go up there, and already calls it Bethel. Then God appears to Jacob there a second time, and Jacob confirms the name "Bethel." He had a double reason. But the second part of the history calls it Bethel already, before he gets there. So the case is very simple and very clear.
The place Jacob named did not stay true to it. A king set up an idol there, and God spoke of the place under another name:
Bethel, meaning "House of God," was sacred as the spot where God showed Himself to Jacob, and graciously pledged Himself to His servant (Gen. 28:10-22). Now one of Jeroboam's calves stood there (1 Kings 12:28-29). So Jehovah spoke of the place with contempt as Bethaven — "house of folly" (Hosea 4:15).
- The name given. Jacob renames Luz as Bethel, "the house of God." Scripture keeps the old name on record; writers read Luz either as separation or as a crooked path now made straight.
- The name explained. The first passage in Scripture about the house of God comes to a homeless wanderer. It shows God's purpose in grace on one side, and man's responsibility on the other.
- The name witnessed. No building stood there — only a stone and oil. The pillar witnessed to God's faithfulness, and the oil pictured the Spirit, who makes God's house a living reality now.
- The name confirmed. Jacob names Bethel again on his return. That is not a rival account but a second meeting with the God who kept His pledge to him when he had nothing.
- The name lost. Where Jeroboam's calf later stood, God called Bethel "Bethaven" — the house of God turned house of folly. A people can forfeit the name grace gave them.
And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with me, and keep me on this road that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and a garment to put on,
Jacob has just seen a ladder joining earth to heaven. God promised, with no conditions, to be with him, keep him, and bring him home. His answer opens with a word God never used: "If."
The difficulty of the verse is the gap between God's promise and Jacob's asking.
Notice the "if" in "If God will be with me." The Lord had just said, with emphasis, "I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land." And yet poor Jacob's heart cannot get beyond an "if." In its thoughts of God's goodness, it cannot rise higher than bread to eat and clothing to wear. These were the thoughts of a man who had just seen the great vision of the ladder reaching from earth to heaven. The Lord stood above it, promising countless offspring and an everlasting possession. Jacob was unable to enter into the reality and fullness of God's thoughts. He measured God by himself, and so completely failed to understand Him.
Jacob asked for far less than God had just promised him.
The promises of God lay far outside and beyond this little circle of merely human interests and ideas. He had just repeated them to the ear of faith: "Your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth… and in you and your offspring shall all the families of the earth be blessed." God's thoughts about him were large, and took in the whole earth in final blessing. Faith in that largeness would have brought Jacob out into liberty. Instead, he would have been content with the measure of his own personal safety.
The terms are those of a deal: God performs, then Jacob will call Him his God and hand back a tenth.
The ground Jacob took in his vow was about as selfish as you will find in a true saint of God. It came to this: if God will be with me, look after me, and do for me what I want, then He shall be my God. And I will give Him a tenth of all He gives me. A bargain like this is barely above the level of a decent man of the world. Yet God bore with him and clearly accepted his feeble vow, and did for him all that he wanted, and more besides.
Commentators differ on how much faith to credit here. One writer finds a real desire behind the bargain.
Here was Jacob striking a bargain with God, and certainly to his own advantage. But God knew the real and right desires of His poor servant, even if he expressed them in this way.
The vow follows fear, not rest. That fear had a cause.
A person under the government of God who is not settled in His grace always feels alarm. To such a soul, God's presence is more or less something to dread, and Jacob said as much: "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Such a combination may surprise many of us: the house of God joined with terror. But so it must always be where the heart is not established in grace, and Jacob's heart was far from it. He was the object of grace, but in no way settled in grace. His demands were by no means large, for legalism is always narrow. His vow is almost exactly the picture of a man under law.
Twenty years later God called Himself the God of Bethel — the place where Jacob made this vow.
God had not forgotten the original terms, and He would not let His servant forget them either. Is this legality? No; it is the display of divine love and faithfulness. God loved Jacob, and would not let him settle for anything less than the old standard. He watched over His servant's heart with jealous care. If that heart should ever stay below the Bethel mark, He gently reminds him.
The verse is not only about Jacob.
God was to him so far only the source of supply for all the food, clothes, protection and care he needed. Can we afford to throw stones at Jacob over this? Are there not thousands today whose "Christianity" amounts to little more than this? God is good to them. They find comfort in Jesus in the trials, needs and puzzles of life. And they expect to go to heaven when they die.
- Promise. God had already promised to be with Jacob, to keep him wherever he went, and to bring him home. The vow added nothing to that promise.
- Shrinkage. God promised blessing for all the families of the earth. Jacob asked for bread, clothes, and a safe way home.
- Cause. He was an object of grace, but not settled in grace. So God's presence made him afraid instead of thankful, and fear bargains.
- Patience. God bore with the feeble vow, accepted it, and gave him more than he asked.
- Faithfulness. Years later God still called Himself the God of Bethel, the place of the vow. Love holds a wandering heart to its first standard.
and I come again to my father's house in peace -- then shall Jehovah be my God.
Jacob had just seen heaven opened above him. He had heard God promise land, children, protection and a safe return. His answer is a vow with an "if" in it. Commentators read verse 21 as a measure of how little Jacob knew the God who had just spoken to him.
Each part of Jacob's vow asks for something God had already promised. One writer sets the two side by side:
Vows do not belong to the age of grace we live in, but to the age before it. The first vow in Scripture is Jacob's, and it comes while God is bringing him up and disciplining him. Poor Jacob! God had just appeared to him and given him promises with no conditions. Again and again He said, "I will": "I will give, I will keep, I will bring you again, I will not leave you" (Gen. 28:13–15). But in taking a vow, Jacob stands on legal ground.
Jacob asks for food, clothes and a safe homecoming. One writer sets the vision beside what Jacob asked for:
Poor Jacob's heart cannot get beyond an "if." And in its thoughts of God's goodness it cannot rise higher than "bread to eat, and clothing to put on." These were the thoughts of a man who had just seen the magnificent vision of the ladder reaching from earth to heaven. The Lord stood above it, promising him countless descendants and a possession that would last forever. Jacob could not take in the reality and fullness of God's thoughts. He measured God by himself, and so missed Him completely. In short, Jacob had not yet come to the end of himself, and so he had not really begun with God.
The hardest word in the verse is "then." Jacob puts off calling the LORD his God until the promises are delivered.
He promises that, if the Lord fulfils all His promises, then, once that is done, the Lord will be his God. Who would be his God in the meantime?
The verse names God twice: "the LORD" and "God." Behind those two words stand the names "Jehovah" and "Elohim," which one writer explains:
Elohim is the One who holds the position of God. Jehovah is the personal name of the One who truly is God… When it says, "then Jehovah shall be my Elohim" (Gen. 28:21), we must go back to verse 13, from which Jacob drew what he said here, and to verse 16 as well.
Jacob's own later words test the vow. In a time of danger he prays — and the words of verse 21 are still missing:
All is Jacob here, and not Jehovah. He sets Jehovah's glory aside and thinks only of his own blessing… I, I, I fills the scene, and is the whole subject of his prayer. So in this hour of trial he fails to keep his vow. He acknowledges Jehovah only as the God of his father Abraham, the God of his father Isaac, the Jehovah who spoke to him — but not as his God.
Commentators do not leave the verse in condemnation. They say two things about how God treated this bargain. First, He honoured it and went past it:
The ground that he took in his vow was about as selfish as any to be found in a true saint of God. It came to this: if God will be with me, look after me, and do for me what I want, then He shall be my God. And I will give Him a tenth of all that He gives me. A bargain like this is barely above the level of a decent man of the world. Yet God bore with him, and clearly accepted his feeble vow, and did for him all that he wished, and more besides.
Second, God came back to that vow years later. One writer sees the reminder as love, not book-keeping:
God had not forgotten the original terms, and neither would He let His servant forget them. Is this legality? No; it is the display of divine love and faithfulness. God loved Jacob, and He would not let him settle for less than the old standard. He watched over the state of His servant's heart, and He gently reminds him with these touching, meaningful words: "I am the God of Bethel, where you anointed the pillar, and where you vowed a vow."
- Promise first. God spoke His "I will"s over Jacob before Jacob said a word; the vow is a reply, not a first move.
- "If" answers "I will." Jacob turns God's guarantee into a contract, and stands on legal ground where God had offered grace.
- Low expectations. A ladder into heaven shrinks to bread and clothing, because Jacob measured God by himself.
- "Then" delays God. Making the LORD his God at the end of the journey leaves the question open: whose God is He on the way?
- Grace outlasts the bargain. God accepted the feeble vow, gave more than Jacob asked, and years later called Himself "the God of Bethel" — holding Jacob to his best moment out of love.
And this stone, which I have set up [for] a pillar, shall be God's house; and of all that thou wilt give me I will without fail give the tenth to thee.
Jacob is running for his life when God meets him in a dream. God promises to keep him and bring him back — with no conditions. Jacob's reply is this vow: a stone set up as God's house, a tenth promised, and an "if."
The place had a name before Jacob renamed it, and both names carry meaning:
When Jacob poured the oil on the top of the pillar, he marked everything that happened that memorable night as sacred. The old name of the place was Luz, meaning a curve, and it indicated what Jacob's life had been — far from straight. But now for Jacob it was Bethel, the dwelling place of God. That place mattered greatly later in his life.
Jacob names two things at Bethel — a gate and a pillar. One writer explains what each stands for:
Jacob says, "This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Then he sets up "a pillar, and poured oil on the top of it." The gate presents the thought of access to heaven. Through the gate we can get in touch with heaven for praise and prayer... The pillar, as we know from the story of Jacob's parting with Laban, carries with it the thought of witness (Gen. 31:52).
God had just spoken without conditions. Jacob answers with one:
Notice, "if God will be with me." Now the Lord had just said, emphatically, "Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land." And yet poor Jacob's heart cannot get beyond an "if." In its thoughts of God's goodness, it cannot rise higher than bread to eat and clothing to put on. Such were the thoughts of one who had just seen the magnificent vision of the ladder reaching from earth to heaven.
Yet the same low ground did not make God turn away:
But though Jacob did all this, the ground he took in his vow was about as selfish as any you will find in a true saint of God. It came to this: if God will be with me, look after me, and do for me what I want, then He shall be my God. And I will give Him a tenth of all that He gives me. A bargain like this is barely above the level of a decent man of the world. Yet God bore with him and evidently accepted his feeble vow, and did for him all that he wished, and more besides.
Jacob was not the first man in Genesis to give a tenth, and the comparison is unflattering:
How different Jacob's vow is from Abraham in Genesis 14! Abraham refused to let strangers make him rich. He gave tithes of everything, unasked, to Melchizedek, priest of God Most High, possessor of heaven and earth.
Did Jacob ever pay what he promised?
He vows too that he would surely give to God one tenth of all that God gave to him. Did he seriously think he was being very generous? God had said, "I will," but Jacob said, "I will surely." Of course God keeps His promise perfectly. But there is no record that Jacob ever carried out his promise to give God one tenth of all.
Commentators weigh the vow differently: one sees God bearing with Jacob and accepting it, another finds no record that he ever paid it.
The tenth is not carried forward as a rule for believers today:
In Christianity everything we have is sometimes viewed as belonging to God. We are only stewards of what God has given us (Luke 16:11-12). But our present possessions are also viewed as our own (Acts 5:4), and we are responsible for using them rightly. Those who are rich are not told to give a tenth, but are to "be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share" (1 Tim. 6:18).
Later God introduces Himself to Jacob by this very vow. That is not God driving a hard bargain:
God had not forgotten the original terms, and He would not let His servant forget them. Is this legality? No; it is the display of divine love and faithfulness. God loved Jacob, and He would not let him stop short of the old standard. He jealously watched over the state of His servant's heart. In case it should remain below the Bethel mark, He gently reminds him with those touching and significant words: "I am the God of Bethel, where you anointed a pillar and made a vow to me."
- Bethel — the crooked place, Luz, gets a new name from the man who had lived a crooked life: the house of God.
- Grace first — God promised with no conditions. The vow was Jacob's response, not God's price.
- The "if" — Jacob answers "I am with you" with "if God will be with me," and shrinks God's promises down to bread and clothing.
- The tenth — a bargain barely above a decent worldly man's. Abraham gave his tithe unasked; no record says Jacob ever paid his.
- The God of Bethel — God remembered the vow, not to condemn Jacob but in love. He would not let His servant stay below Bethel.
And Jacob continued his journey, and went into the land of the children of the east.
One line of travel marks a turning point. Jacob has just met God at Bethel. Now he walks east, out of the land of promise, into twenty years in a stranger's house — the hardest stretch of his life.
From this line on, everything changes for Jacob. One writer sees God at work in the hard years that follow.
Here the second period of Jacob's life begins. He is now a stranger, a servant working for wages, the victim of deceit and self-seeking on the part of Laban, his relative — and a close relative in character too. You cannot mistake the payback that runs all the way through it: the measure he used on others is measured back to him. But you also cannot miss that in the way it is handed out, God is speaking to the heart and conscience of the wanderer. There is justice in God's government, but also the correction of a holy love.
Commentators differ over the wording that opens the verse. One writer hears eagerness in it, and credits that to grace:
But he goes on. Grace sets the corrected saint on his journey, and with some eagerness too, until "he came to the land of the people of the east," until he reached Padan-aram, the place his mother's advice had sent him to — and no doubt the place God's own hand had now led him to.
Another tests the same wording against the nearest parallel in Scripture and doubts it:
Jacob, strengthened by his dream, goes on with his journey to the land of his relatives. The opening phrase is a rare one. The nearest thing to it describes the priests leaving the bed of the Jordan for Canaan (Joshua 4:18), and that does little to support the eagerness people read into it here.
One writer sees mercy in where this road leads, and a warning in who waits at the end of it.
In Genesis 29 we find Jacob taking up his journey again, and God's merciful hand shows itself at once, directing him and opening his way. God guides his steps to the very well where his uncle Laban's sheep were watered, and where he met his cousin Rachel. Laban's house gave him a warm welcome, but there he found himself in the hands of a man who matched him in trickery.
Jacob does not leave his old habits behind at Bethel. One writer sees the country ahead of him as God's answer to that.
As we have just seen, in Genesis 28 Jacob completely fails to grasp what God is really like. He meets all the rich grace of Bethel with an "if" and a poor little bargain about food and clothing. We now follow him into a scene of non-stop bargain-making. "Whatever one sows, that will he also reap." There is no escaping this. Jacob had not yet found his true level in God's presence, and so God uses circumstances to correct him and break him down.
Jacob meets Rachel at a well. Eliezer once met Rebecca the same way, on Isaac's behalf — but the two men arrive very differently.
He met Rachel at the well, among the flock, just as Eliezer met Rebecca — and Eliezer was only Isaac's representative. But Jacob was the poor man, Isaac the wealthy. Isaac could enrich Rebecca with gold earrings and bracelets, a pledge of the fine estate he had waiting for her. Jacob has only his hard work and the sweat of his face. Isaac was the son and heir; Jacob was a man who had made himself poor, and must find his own way through the wear and tear of life as best he can, with God's help. Israel served for a wife, and for a wife he kept sheep (Hosea 12:12). It was about to prove hard service. But he starts at once, and keeps at it for twenty long years.
One writer reads Jacob's own story as the outline of his nation's story.
Jacob's life divides into three parts: in the land, exiled from it at Padan-Aram, and returning again. These match, very plainly, the three great periods of Israel's national life. We know the last one only from prophecy, but we know it as surely as any history could tell us.
- Departure. The verse opens the second period of Jacob's life. He is no longer at home. He is a stranger and a servant working for wages.
- Discipline. He is a bargain-maker, and he walks into a land of bargain-makers. He gets back the measure he gave others. Yet love stands behind the correction.
- Direction. Jacob has not yet found his true level before God. God's hand still opens his way, right to the well where his family waters its sheep.
- Destitution. Eliezer brought Rebecca gold. Jacob brings nothing, and pays for his wife with twenty years of hard work.
- Design. In the land, out of the land, back to the land. Jacob's road maps the whole story of Israel, and the return is still to come.
And he looked, and behold, there was a well in the fields, and behold there, three flocks of sheep were lying by it; for out of that well they watered the flocks, and a great stone was at the mouth of the well.
Jacob has left home with nothing but a promise, and his first stop in the land of the east decides the rest of his life. Commentators read the scene on two levels: God steering a fugitive to the spot he needs, and a picture of blessing held back until the right moment.
Jacob does not search for his relatives. He simply looks up, and the place he has stopped at turns out to be the family's watering place.
In Genesis 29 Jacob takes up his journey again, and the merciful hand of God shows itself at once, directing him and opening his way. God guides his steps to the very well that watered the sheep of his uncle Laban. There he met his cousin Rachel.
Notice what is missing: no prayer, no name of God, no sign that Jacob asked for direction. One writer compares him with Eliezer, the servant Abraham sent to find Isaac's wife.
Here, as usual, Jacob is under God's providential care, even though we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. This is His sure direction, unseen and unnamed. Yet we may note the difference from Eliezer's clear prayer of faith and immediate worship in Genesis 24, and from God's prompt answer.
The plain facts come first. This is ordinary shepherding life.
A well was of course the most likely place to meet people. Three flocks of sheep were nearby, waiting for water. They could not drink until someone removed the huge stone from the mouth of the well. The stone was plainly needed to stop people or animals from falling in by accident. Their practice was to wait until all the flocks had gathered. Then the shepherds would roll the stone away, water the flocks, and put the stone back in its place.
The water is there, but the stone keeps the thirsty sheep from it. One writer reads that stone as what stands between people and what God gives.
The principle that stands out is this: the stone is the law. It holds back the blessing that man is going to receive from God, and that alone keeps back what God has to give. Man feels he deserves something as long as he tries hard enough. But the stone still lies on top of the well, keeping the water from coming out.
One writer sees the three flocks, and the rule that none drank until all had gathered, as a picture of a wider blessing to come.
Take up again the view of Jacob as a picture of Christ in His earthly character. He comes to the people of the East, where three flocks wait around a well that is still closed. When it is "high day" he opens the well and waters the waiting sheep. "When all the flocks were gathered there" — Jew, Gentile, and Church of God: at least these three plainly stand out for special recognition and favour.
Jacob does not wait for the other shepherds. Commentators differ on whether that early move is admirable or rash. One takes it as a picture of how God works in the present time:
What a striking lesson this is! The energy of faith and love can remove great obstacles and bring blessing before the time of "restoring all things." We see this in the present age of the grace of God… So the church has been wonderfully blessed before the time of the worldwide blessing.
Another sees a man acting out of turn. This writer sets him beside two who waited: Abraham's servant, and Christ Himself.
Jacob — faulty, foolish, failing — takes on this mighty work without knowing what he does. He lifts it off the ground of grace and lays it on the shoulders of his own faithfulness! Look at him, in unwise haste, while it is still high day and the flocks not yet gathered, rolling the stone from the well's mouth and watering Laban's sheep. Abraham's servant did not act like that. He waited and prayed and wondered in silence, and let the young woman hurry and run and draw water for him and for all his camels. Nor did the meek and lowly One act like that. In tender grace and patient long-suffering He refused to fulfil a single wish — as Messiah, Son of Man, or Head of all things, with His bride the church — until the due time came and the Father's will required it.
- The well — God brought a running fugitive to the spot he needed. No one asked Him, and no one named Him, yet He guided.
- The stone — the water was already there. Only a stone over the mouth kept the flocks from it — read as the law holding back what God gives.
- The waiting — nobody drank until all the flocks had gathered — a picture of a wider day of blessing still ahead for Jew, Gentile, and the Church of God.
- The strength — love moved what the shepherds waited to move together, and blessing came before the appointed hour.
- The caution — commentators differ. Some see faith and love removing obstacles. Others see haste — unlike Abraham's servant, who waited and prayed, and unlike Christ, who waited for the Father's time.
And when all the flocks were gathered there, they rolled the stone from the mouth of the well, and watered the sheep, and put the stone again on the mouth of the well in its place.
Jacob comes to a well in open country, where three flocks wait beside a stone that seals it. Verse 3 pauses to explain the local rule: no flock drinks until every flock arrives.
The verse first describes ordinary working life. One writer explains why a stone sat there at all, and what the shepherds did with it:
The stone was clearly needed to stop people or animals from falling into the well by accident. Their practice was to wait until all the flocks were gathered. Then the shepherds would roll the stone away, water the flocks, and put the stone back in its place.
Notice the last step. The stone goes back, so the well is sealed again until the next gathering. The water was there the whole time, yet every flock stayed thirsty until the last one arrived.
The delay puzzled Jacob, and the shepherds' answer points beyond the well:
Jacob was puzzled that the shepherds were still waiting to water their flock. They tell him they could not do this until enough shepherds arrived to roll the stone from the well's mouth. When all were gathered there they would do it and water the sheep. There is a picture in this of people waiting for the time of universal blessing, which will take place in the millennial age.
One writer treats the number of flocks as more than a stray detail. He links their gathering to a promise in Isaiah that names three peoples together:
Take up again the view of Jacob as a picture of Christ in His character on earth. He comes to the people of the East, where three flocks are waiting around a well that is still closed. When it is "high day" he opens the well and supplies the waiting sheep. Isaiah prophesies of the future time when "Israel will be the third with Egypt and Assyria… whom the LORD of hosts has blessed, saying, Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel my inheritance." "And when all the flocks were gathered there" — Jew, Gentile, and Church of God. At least these three nations stand out for special recognition and favour.
One writer identifies the stone with the law, and points to a second stone sealing a grave:
The principle that stands out is this: the stone is the law. It holds back the blessing that man is going to receive from God, and it alone keeps back what God has to give. Man feels he deserves something so long as he tries hard enough. But the stone still sits on top of the well, and it keeps the water from coming out. The same thing appears in the stone on the grave of Lazarus (John 11:39-40).
Verse 3 sets the rule that Jacob then breaks. Commentators differ on whether that was faith or folly. One sees blessing arriving ahead of schedule:
What a striking lesson this is! The energy of faith and love can remove great obstacles and bring blessing before the time of "the restoring of all things." This is what we see in the present "dispensation of the grace of God."
Another reads the same act as a man forcing God's timetable and shouldering a work that was never his to carry:
Without knowing it, faulty, foolish, failing Jacob takes on this mighty work. He moves it off the ground of grace and places it on the shoulders of his own faithfulness. Look at him! In unwise haste, while it is still high day and the flocks are not yet gathered, he rolls the stone from the well's mouth and waters Laban's sheep!
- Stone — A heavy cover kept anyone from falling in. It also kept everyone from drinking. The water was there, but sealed.
- Waiting — No flock drank until every flock came. Writers read this as a picture of people waiting for the time of universal blessing.
- Gathering — Writers have linked the three flocks to Egypt, Assyria and Israel: Jew, Gentile and Church of God, all named for blessing.
- Removal — One reading makes the stone the law: as long as it sits there, man's effort cannot get the water out.
- Water — Commentators differ on what follows. Some see love's energy lifting the stone early, so blessing flows now. Others see Jacob in unwise haste, moving off grace onto his own faithfulness.
And Jacob said to them, My brethren, whence are ye? And they said, Of Haran are we.
Jacob has fled his brother's anger and travelled far east, and his first words on arrival are a question to strangers at a well. Their one-word answer, Haran, tells him he has landed in the one town he needed — so who steered him there?
The name in their reply carried a long family history, and the town's position made it a natural stop for travellers:
This was an ancient city in Mesopotamia. Terah and his family moved there from Ur of the Chaldeans. Abraham stayed there on his way to the land of Canaan, until his father died. The descendants of Nahor, Abraham's brother, also settled there, so people called it the "city of Nahor." Gen. 24:10... The name means "road" in Accadian. It was probably so called because the caravan routes of Syria, Assyria, and Babylonia crossed there.
One question to a group of shepherds settled where he was and who lived nearby:
By questioning the shepherds, Jacob finds that he has come to the right place. Their home was at Haran. They knew Laban also, and that he was well (vv. 5-6). More than this, at the very moment Laban's daughter Rachel was coming with her flock of sheep to the well.
The meeting looks like luck. Commentators see another hand in it:
In Genesis 29, we find Jacob taking up his journey again. The merciful hand of God is at once obvious, directing him and opening up his way. God guides his steps to the very well where Laban, his uncle, watered his sheep, and there he met his cousin Rachel. Laban welcomed him warmly into his house, only for Jacob to find himself in the hands of a man who was his equal in trickery.
The whole exchange stays at the human level:
We have men here, not Jehovah, or Elohim, though surely God was behind it all.
An earlier journey to the same region looked very different. There Abraham's servant Eliezer prayed in plain words and worshipped:
As so often with Jacob, he is here under God's providential care, even when we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Then Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure but unseen and unnamed direction. Yet we may note the difference from Eliezer's clear prayer of faith and immediate worship in Gen. 24. There is a difference too in God's prompt answer, and in the bride's ready response. She set out to join a man she had never seen but trusted, and for him she left all her existing family ties.
He is not there on an errand. He is there because of what he did to Esau:
We are now called to follow Jacob as he moves out from under his father's roof. We see him as a homeless and lonely wanderer on the earth. It is here that God's special dealings with him begin. Jacob now begins to realise, in some measure, the bitter fruit of his conduct towards Esau. At the same time, God rises above all the weakness and folly of His servant. He displays His own sovereign grace and deep wisdom in His dealings with him.
One commentator reads the two place names of Jacob's journey as a wider picture. He also gives Haran a different meaning from the dictionary above:
Jacob goes out from Beersheba (v. 10). This is a striking picture of the nation Israel, the sons of Jacob, because Beersheba means "the well of the oath" and Haran means "mountaineer." Israel has in effect left the ground of God's unconditional promise and has chosen instead the mountain of law-keeping, as though this could ever bring the blessing of God! All the time Jacob was in Haran, he kept a character of selfish bargaining. In the same way, Israel today remains in a state of self-righteousness.
Some readers have seen Jacob's journey as a picture of Jesus Himself. One commentator finds that strange, and sets a limit on how far the picture can go:
How strange that devout eyes, in the past and in our own day, should see a picture of Jesus in Jacob's journey and arrival in Haran! They see the Son of God and Heir of all things, despised and rejected by men... Here we have a man who leaves the land of promise after the saddest failure. Yet he does not leave without blessings in grace, for in the dark night Jehovah assured him of His care. At most he pictures the earthly side of the Lord.
- Road. Haran stood where the caravan routes crossed. Abraham's relatives, the family of his brother Nahor, had settled there.
- Runaway. Jacob travels that road as a homeless wanderer. He is tasting the bitter fruit of how he treated Esau, and God's special dealings with him start here.
- Route. One question to strangers lands him at the right well at the right moment. The merciful hand of God is directing him and opening his way.
- Reserve. No name for God appears in the scene. The direction is sure, but unseen and unnamed — unlike the plain prayer and worship of Abraham's servant in Genesis 24.
- Restraint. Jacob's journey pictures the earthly side of the Lord at most. One commentator warns against loading it with more than it carries.
And he said to them, Do ye know Laban the son of Nahor? And they said, We do know [him].
Jacob has fled his home and travelled far to reach Haran. He stops at a well and asks the shepherds there about his uncle Laban. Their short answer — we know him — tells him he has come to the right place. Who brought him there?
The shepherds' reply settles Jacob's uncertainty at once. One writer reads the whole arrival as the work of a hand Jacob could not see:
In Genesis 29, Jacob takes up his journey again. The merciful hand of God is clear at once, directing him and opening up his way. God guides his steps to the very well where the sheep of his uncle Laban were watered, and where he met his cousin Rachel.
Notice also what is missing. No one at the well names God:
Jacob is here under God's providential care, even when we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Then Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure direction, though unseen and unnamed.
Jacob is in a foreign country because of what he did at home. His treatment of Esau is what drove him out:
It is here that God's special dealings with him begin. Jacob now begins to feel, in some measure, the bitter fruit of his conduct toward Esau. At the same time we see God rising above all the weakness and folly of His servant... He might not have had to flee to Haran, had he allowed God to act for him.
Jacob calls Laban the son of Nahor, though Laban's father was Bethuel. One writer notes how Hebrew family lines often work:
Very often, those called the son of so-and-so are not necessarily his children at all. They may be his grandsons, or even his grandnephews. In other cases the head of a clan counts as the father of a generation, and all the generations in between are left out.
Nahor was Abraham's brother, so Jacob is identifying the family by its best-known head. One dictionary sums up the man behind that name:
Son of Bethuel, brother of Rebekah, and father of Leah and Rachel. His prompt hospitality towards Abraham's servant shows a heart the Lord had prepared in answer to prayer. But why he took the lead instead of Bethuel, his father, is not revealed. In his dealings with Jacob, Laban was scheming and unscrupulous. Jacob met this with craft of his own.
Laban's family was not in the same darkness as the peoples around them. One writer weighs what that meant for them:
They had been brought into a certain measure of light, and into a certain standing by profession... But since that is so, since this is a professing household, set in some sense apart from the dark state of the men of the world, it is serious to notice what kind of visit the Spirit makes to it. It will prove to be a separating power... the Spirit may need to visit a respectable professing family with the very same energy as a more worldly or idolatrous family.
This well scene recalls Genesis 24, when Eliezer came to the same family to fetch a bride. One writer marks the difference rather than the likeness:
Yet we may note the difference from Genesis 24. There Eliezer prayed a clear prayer of faith and worshipped at once. God answered him promptly. And the bride responded readily. She set out to join the man she trusted without seeing him, and she left for him all her existing ties of nature.
- Guided. God led Jacob to the exact well where Laban's flocks were watered. The scene never names Him. His care is real but unseen.
- Disciplined. He was in Haran because he had not left matters to God at home. The same God who guided him let him taste the bitter fruit of his own conduct.
- Named. "Son of Nahor" is normal Hebrew usage. A grandson or distant descendant can be called the son of the family's known head.
- Warned. The man Jacob was so glad to find proved scheming and unscrupulous. Jacob would meet craft with craft.
- Contrasted. Eliezer came to this same family with clear prayer, a quick answer, and worship. Jacob comes asking shepherds for directions. Grace works in both, but faith is not at work in the same measure.
And he said to them, Is he well? And they said, [He is] well; and behold, there comes Rachel his daughter with the sheep.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he said, Behold, it is yet high day; it is not time that the cattle should be gathered together; water the sheep, and go, feed [them].
Jacob has crossed the desert from Canaan and reached a well near Haran, where three flocks lie waiting in the midday heat. His first words to the shepherds tell them not to waste the daylight — which raises the question of why the sheep were waiting at all.
Jacob reaches this particular well without a map, an address, or a servant to guide him. Commentators see God's care behind the coincidence.
In Genesis 29, we find Jacob resuming his journey, and the merciful hand of God, directing him and opening up his way, is at once clear. His steps are guided to the very well where the sheep of Laban, his uncle, were watered and where he met his cousin Rachel.
The verse assumes a local custom. A heavy stone sealed the well, and one shepherd could not move it.
Three flocks of sheep were nearby, waiting to be watered. Someone first had to move a huge stone from the mouth of the well (v. 2). The stone was clearly there to stop people or animals from falling into the well. Their practice was to wait until all the flocks were gathered. Then the shepherds would roll the stone away, water the flocks, and put the stone back in place.
So Jacob's advice cuts across the arrangement the shepherds live by. Their reply in the next verse is that they cannot.
Jacob does not wait. Within a few verses he heaves the stone off himself. One writer calls this unwise haste, and sets beside Jacob two others who waited.
Look at him! In unwise haste, while it is still high day and the flocks are not yet gathered, he rolls the stone from the well's mouth and waters Laban's sheep! Abraham's servant did not act like this. He waited and prayed and wondered in silence. He let the young woman hurry and run and draw water for him to drink and for all his camels. Nor did the meek and lowly One act like this. In tender grace and patient long-suffering, He refused to fulfil a single wish until the due time and the Father's will required it. That was true in every role — as Messiah, as Son of Man, or as Head of all things with His bride, the church.
One writer takes the shepherds' rule — no water until every flock is present — as more than local custom.
Jacob was puzzled that the shepherds were still waiting to water their flock. They tell him they could not do it until enough shepherds were there to roll the stone from the well's mouth. There is a picture in this of men waiting for the time of universal blessing, which will take place in the millennial age.
Another writer presses the number three, and links Jacob's phrase about high day to the moment the well opens:
Take up again the view of Jacob as a picture of Christ in His earthly character. He comes to the people of the East, where three flocks wait around a well that is still closed. When it is "high day" he opens the well (Gen. 29:7-10), and the waiting sheep get their water. Isaiah prophesies of a future time when Israel will be third with Egypt and Assyria, and the Lord of Hosts will bless them. All the flocks were gathered there — Jew, Gentile, and Church of God.
Commentators differ over how much weight this scene can carry. One warns against turning Jacob at the well into a picture of Christ coming for the church.
How strange that devout eyes, both long ago and in our own day, should see a picture of Jesus in Jacob's journey and arrival in Haran! They see the Son of God and Heir of all things, despised and rejected by men. They see Him leaving heaven's glory to become a wanderer in the world, to work out redemption, and to join the church to Himself. Here Jacob rather stands in contrast with Isaac. Here is a man who leaves the land of promise after the saddest failure, but not without blessings in grace. He is at most a picture of the earthly side of the Lord.
The scene also carries a plain lesson for anyone who wants to help others.
It is clear that we must be near the well of life ourselves, if we want to become a channel of living water to others. What a privilege to roll away the stone from the well's mouth and water the Lord's flock when it is gathered! It means being so under the guidance of the Holy Spirit that we give out the truth at the right time.
- Waiting. Three flocks lie beside a covered well at midday, and Jacob tells the shepherds to water them and get back to grazing.
- Sealed. A heavy stone caps the well. Custom says nobody moves it until every flock has arrived.
- Impatient. One writer reads Jacob's "it is still high day" as unwise haste. Abraham's servant waited and prayed. Christ claimed nothing before the Father's time.
- Gathered. Waiting for all the flocks pictures a coming day of blessing for all. Writers read the three flocks as Jew, Gentile, and church.
- Limited. Commentators differ on how far this pictures Christ. One keeps it to earthly hopes. The practical lesson stands for everyone: stay near the well yourself if you want to water others.
And they said, We cannot until all the flocks are gathered together, and they roll the stone from the mouth of the well, and we water the sheep.
Jacob has reached Haran, where three flocks lie beside a well with a great stone over its mouth. He tells the shepherds to water the sheep, and their answer is not that they will not, but that they cannot.
One writer explains the stone and the daily routine around it:
Three flocks of sheep were nearby, waiting to be watered. They could not drink until a huge stone was moved from the mouth of the well. The stone was clearly there to stop people or animals falling in. Their practice was to wait until all the flocks had gathered. Then the shepherds would roll the stone away, water the flocks, and put the stone back in its place.
The shepherds need more hands before the stone will move. One writer sees their waiting as a picture of something still future:
Jacob was puzzled that the shepherds were still waiting to water their flock. They tell him they could not do it until enough shepherds were there to roll the stone from the well's mouth. Once all had gathered, they would roll it away and water the sheep. There is a picture in this of people waiting for the time of universal blessing, which will take place in the millennial age.
Something lies on top of the well and keeps the water covered. One writer names what it stands for:
The principle that stands out is this: the stone is the law. It holds back the blessing that man is going to receive from God, and it alone is what really keeps back what God has to give. Man feels that he deserves something as long as he tries hard enough. But the stone still lies on top of the well, stopping the water from coming out.
The same writer looks ahead to what the open well pictures:
In verses 1-14 we have a picture of the blessing still to come to all creation. The stone is rolled away from the well mouth so that water may gush out. This is the flowing out of the Spirit of God, God pouring out His Spirit on all flesh.
Verse 8 sets the rule; the next two verses break it. Jacob sees Rachel, and what took a company of shepherds he does alone:
When Jacob saw Rachel, the daughter of his mother's brother, and the sheep of his mother's brother, amazing strength came over him, and he rolled the stone away by himself. What a striking lesson this is! The energy of faith and love can remove great obstacles and bring blessing before the time of "the restoration of all things."
One writer takes the gathering of all the flocks as a blessing wider than one nation:
Taking up again the view of Jacob as a picture of Christ in his earthly character, we find him coming to the people of the East. There three flocks wait around a well that is still closed. When it is "high day" he opens the well and the waiting sheep get their water… "All the flocks were gathered there" — Jew, Gentile, and Church of God.
William Kelly points to something quieter in the scene. God is never named in the story, yet His hand is on every step of it:
Jacob is here, as always, under God's providential care, even when we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure direction, though unseen and unnamed.
The picture also turns into a job description for anyone who serves God's people:
It is perfectly clear that we must be near the well of life ourselves if we want to become a channel of living water to others. What a privilege to be made able to roll away the stone from the well's mouth and to water the Lord's flock when it is gathered together — to be so guided by the Holy Spirit that we minister the truth at the right time.
- The stone. A heavy stone lay over the well for safety, and no flock drank until it was rolled away.
- The "cannot." The shepherds' rule was to wait for every flock — a picture of people waiting for the time of universal blessing.
- The obstacle. One writer reads the stone as the law — the one thing holding back what God is ready to give.
- The early blessing. Love and faith rolled that stone away ahead of schedule, bringing blessing before "the restoration of all things."
- The reach. One writer reads all the flocks gathered as Jew, Gentile and the church of God — and the whole scene as God's unseen direction.
While he was still speaking to them, Rachel came with her father's sheep, for she was a shepherdess.
Jacob has travelled alone to Haran. He stops at a well and asks the shepherds there about his relatives. Mid-question, the very person he is asking about walks into view, and the verse pauses to tell us what she does for a living.
One writer traces the timing of this meeting back to God's hand:
In Genesis 29, Jacob takes up his journey again. At once we see the merciful hand of God, directing him and opening up his way. God guides his steps to the very well where his uncle Laban's sheep were watered, and where he met his cousin Rachel.
Abraham's servant Eliezer made an earlier journey to this same region, to fetch a wife for Isaac. He asked for guidance aloud and worshipped on the spot. Here God guides in silence:
As usual, Jacob is here under God's providential care, even when we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure but unseen and unnamed direction. Yet notice how different Genesis 24 is. There Eliezer prayed a clear prayer of faith and worshipped at once. God answered promptly, and the bride responded readily.
Her name fits her work. In the lists of Bible name meanings it is given plainly:
Rachel — A ewe
A shepherdess named "ewe" comes leading a small flock among larger ones. That detail carries a note of comfort:
Jacob came and asked the shepherds if they knew his brother-in-law, and they pointed out Rachel coming with her sheep to the well. It is very likely that her sheep were fewer than the number of the other sheep. We have something of the thought here: "Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom" (Luke 12:32).
The next verse shows what the sight of her did to Jacob:
Then Rachel arrives with her father's sheep (v. 9). When Jacob saw Rachel, his uncle's daughter, and his uncle's sheep, amazing strength moved him. He rolled the stone away by himself (v. 10). What a striking lesson this is! The energy of faith and love can remove great obstacles. It can bring blessing before the time of "the restitution of all things."
Because Jacob waters one flock ahead of the general watering, some read the scene as a picture of Christ:
He was a stranger, unknown, and seeks Rachel only — he would have her alone. As a rule, no one can water the flocks until someone opens the well. But He opens it and waters Rachel's flock. Rachel here is His Jewish flock and bride, chosen and beloved. It was His — was His flesh and bone — He was a Jew.
Commentators differ on how far to press it. Another writer accepts the picture only in part. He ties Jacob to Christ's link with Israel on earth. The picture of Christ leaving heaven for the church, he says, belongs to Isaac and Rebekah:
How strange that devout readers, both long ago and today, should see Jacob's journey and arrival in Haran as a picture of Jesus! They see the Son of God and Heir of all things, despised and rejected by men, leaving heaven's glory to become a wanderer in the world, to carry out redemption, and to marry the church to Himself. Here it pictures instead a contrast with Isaac. Isaac is the only son of his father, the dead and risen bridegroom. Eliezer's guidance fetched his bride for him, and she must pass through the desert to be His bride in the heavenly places. At most Jacob pictures the earthly side of the Lord.
Jacob arrives with nothing to offer but his hands:
His introduction to Rachel was at the well, among the flock, like that of Eliezer to Rebekah; and Eliezer was only Isaac's representative. But Jacob was the poor man, Isaac the wealthy. Isaac could enrich Rebekah with earrings and bracelets of gold, pledges of the fine estate he had for her. Jacob has only his toil and the sweat of his face. "Israel served for a wife, and for a wife he guarded sheep" (Hosea 12:12). And he was about to find it hard service. But he starts on it at once, and continues at it for twenty long years.
- Timing. Rachel arrives while Jacob is still speaking. God's merciful hand directed his steps to the one well that mattered.
- Silence. The guidance here is real but unnamed. Unlike Genesis 24, nobody prays and nobody worships.
- Smallness. She keeps her father's sheep, a lesser flock among larger ones — the little flock the Father is pleased to bless.
- Strength. Love moved one man to roll the stone away alone, and blessing came before its general time.
- Service. The poor bridegroom paid for his bride with twenty years of toil. The meeting at the well was the easy part.
And it came to pass when Jacob saw Rachel the daughter of Laban his mother's brother, and the sheep of Laban his mother's brother, that Jacob went near, and rolled the stone from the mouth of the well, and watered the sheep of Laban his mother's brother.
Jacob has reached a well outside Haran, where his mother's brother Laban lives. The moment he sees Rachel with her father's sheep, he alone rolls away the stone that usually waited for a crowd of shepherds.
God is never named in this scene, yet the meeting with Rachel is no accident. One writer traces the whole arrangement back to Him:
As usual, Jacob is here under God's providential care, even though we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure but unseen and unnamed direction.
The water was there all along. One heavy stone kept it from the flocks, and one commentator makes that the point of the whole picture:
The principle that stands out is this: the stone is the law that holds back the blessing man is going to receive from God. That alone keeps back what God has to give. Man feels he deserves something as long as he tries hard enough. But the stone still lies on top of the well, stopping the water from coming out. We see the same thing in the stone on the grave of Lazarus.
Jacob did alone what took a group of men. One writer finds a lesson in what gave him that strength:
How striking a lesson this is! The energy of faith and love can remove great obstacles and bring blessing before the time for "restoring all things." This is what is seen in the present "stewardship of God's grace." The Lord Jesus, in pure love and devotion to God, has shown the strength of that love toward the church, His promised bride, and toward the sheep of God's flock. He showed it in the great sacrifice of Himself, in His resurrection power, and in already having "raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus" (Eph. 2:6).
The other flocks still lay by the well, waiting. One writer reads that waiting as a picture of the world's future:
Jacob was puzzled that the shepherds were still waiting to water their flock. They tell him they could not do it until enough shepherds were there to roll the stone from the well's mouth. When they had all gathered, they would do this and water the sheep. There is a picture in this of men waiting for the time of universal blessing.
Commentators differ here. Where one sees the energy of love, another sees a man in a hurry, doing by his own effort what belonged to God's timing:
Faulty, foolish, failing Jacob takes on this mighty work without knowing what he does. He lifts it off the ground of grace and lays it on the shoulders of his own faithfulness! Look at him, in unwise haste! It is still broad day, the flocks are not yet gathered, and he rolls the stone from the well's mouth and waters Laban's sheep. Abraham's servant did not act this way. He waited and prayed and wondered in silence. He let the young woman hurry and run and draw water for him and for all his camels. The meek and lowly One did not act this way either. In tender grace and patient long-suffering, He refused to fulfil a single wish until the due time came and the Father's will required it — as Messiah, as Son of Man, or as Head of all things with His bride the church.
The picture also turns toward the reader. One writer applies it to anyone who wants to be of use to others:
It is clear that we must be near the well of life ourselves if we want to become the channel of living water to others. What a privilege to roll away the stone from the well's mouth and water the Lord's flock when it gathers! What a privilege to be so guided by the Holy Spirit that we minister the truth at the right time.
- The well — the water was always there; the flocks were thirsty only because something lay on top of it.
- The stone — the law lies on top of the well. It holds back what God is ready to give, while people keep trying to deserve it.
- The strength — love and faith move what a crowd could not. Christ's love did this for His bride and His flock, at the cost of Himself.
- The timing — the other flocks still wait for a general day of blessing. Love waters one flock early, and that pictures grace today.
- The channel — stay near the well yourself, and you become the one who rolls the stone away for others.
And Jacob kissed Rachel, and lifted up his voice and wept.
God's care for Jacob is never announced in this chapter. It is only seen. A man on the run reaches a strange country, walks up to a well, and meets his mother's own family. His first act is a kiss and a flood of tears.
Nothing in the chapter says God arranged this meeting. One writer traces Jacob's arrival at that exact well back to God's guiding hand.
In Genesis 29, Jacob takes up his journey again, and God's merciful hand shows itself at once, directing him and opening up his way. God guides his steps to the very well where the sheep of his uncle Laban were watered, and there he met his cousin Rachel.
When Abraham's servant Eliezer went looking for a bride for Isaac, he prayed and worshipped out loud. Here the same God works, but no one names Him.
Jacob is under God's providential care here, even though we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. This is His sure direction, unseen and unnamed. Yet notice the difference from Genesis 24. There Eliezer prayed a clear prayer of faith and worshipped at once, and God answered promptly. The bride responded readily too: she set out to join a man she had never seen but trusted, and she left behind all her family ties.
Family ties, not friendship, explain the emotion here.
The warmth of family affection then fills the scene. Jacob kissed Rachel, weeping for joy, and told her that he is the son of Rebekah, her father's sister. Of course they had never met, but family ties can be surprisingly strong even so. Rachel left the sheep and ran to tell her father the good news of a relative from a far country.
One writer sets these tears beside the earlier story of Isaac's bride and finds something missing.
This is a touching scene, and Jacob's quick emotional outburst fits his nature, and so does Laban's. But two things are missing here: the deep communion with God… and the heart wholly taken up with the risen bridegroom's glory. In the unique story of Isaac and Rebekah both are clearly there.
Laban kisses Jacob a few verses later. Twenty years on, one kiss is missing.
Jacob loved Rachel, and he kissed her and wept aloud. Then when Laban came he kissed Jacob. Their souls were happy to be with one another. But was that the way they parted from one another? No, it was not. Later on, when they did part, Laban kissed his daughters and their children, but it does not say he kissed Jacob. Sometimes we get to know each other too well — that is, we learn where each of our difficulties lie. For if I get to know my brother very well, I get to know myself a little better too. And if my brother is wrong in various ways, this only shows me what I am myself.
One writer reads Jacob at the well as a picture of Christ. In this reading, the stranger who opens the well passes every other flock by and waters one.
He was a stranger, unknown, and He seeks Rachel only — He would have her alone. In general, no one can water the flocks until the well is opened. But He opens it and waters Rachel's flock. Rachel here is His chosen and beloved Jewish flock and bride. It was His — His own flesh and bone — He was a Jew.
Commentators differ over how far to press the picture. Kelly rejects the popular version, where Jacob's journey stands for Christ leaving heaven to win the church:
How strange that devout eyes, both long ago and today, should see Jacob's journey and arrival in Haran as a picture of Jesus… leaving heaven's glory to become a wanderer in the world, to carry out redemption, and to marry the church to Himself! Here we have a man who leaves the land of promise after the saddest failure, though not without blessings in grace… At most he pictures the earthly side of the Lord.
- Led — God steers Jacob to the exact well where Laban's sheep drank. His hand is sure, and the chapter never names Him.
- Silent — Abraham's servant prayed and worshipped out loud. Here God works unnamed while Jacob talks with shepherds.
- Warm — strangers by sight, family by blood. Jacob kisses Rachel and weeps for joy, and Rachel runs home with news of a relative from far away.
- Shallow — the outburst suits Jacob's quick nature. The deep communion with God seen in Isaac and Rebekah's story is missing here.
- Short-lived — the warmth had cooled by the parting twenty years later. Knowing another person's faults teaches you your own.
And Jacob told Rachel that he was a brother of her father, and that he was Rebecca's son; and she ran and told her father.
Jacob reaches Haran with nothing to show. All he can offer Rachel is a family name: he belongs to her father's household, and his mother is Rebekah. That name opens Laban's door. It also raises the questions this scene answers: who arranged the meeting, what welcome waits inside, and what does the picture mean?
Jacob is far from home and travelling alone. Yet he lands at the right well and meets the right person. One writer sees God's merciful hand in that, and notes where the guided road led him.
In Genesis 29, Jacob resumes his journey. At once we see the merciful hand of God directing him and opening up his way. That hand guides his steps to the very well where his uncle Laban's sheep came to drink, and where he met his cousin Rachel. Laban received him into his house with an eager welcome. But there he found himself in the hands of a man who was his equal in trickery.
Jacob and Rachel are strangers to each other; what he tells her is not a personal history but a family link. The reaction shows how much weight that link carried.
Family affection then fills the scene. Jacob kissed Rachel and wept for joy. He told her that he is the son of Rebekah, her father's sister. Of course they had never met, but family ties can still be very strong. Rachel left the sheep and ran to tell her father the good news of a relative from a far country (v. 12). Laban also ran to meet Jacob and embraced and kissed him. So he welcomed him into his home as his own "bone and flesh" (v. 14). How good it would have been if this attitude had lasted all through their relationship! But when they parted 20 years later, the atmosphere was hostile rather than friendly.
The tears and the kiss are real. Still, one writer sets this meeting beside an earlier one. In Genesis 24, Abraham sent his servant Eliezer to find a wife for Isaac — and that story ran very differently.
Yet we may note the difference from Genesis 24. There Eliezer prayed a clear prayer of faith and worshipped at once. God answered him promptly. And the bride responded readily: she set out to join the one she trusted without seeing him, and left behind all her existing ties of nature for him.
The warm embrace did not last. One writer draws a hard lesson from the way Jacob and Laban parted.
Sometimes we get to know each other too well — that is, we learn where each of our difficulties lie. If I get to know my brother very well, I get to know myself a little better too. And if my brother is wrong in various ways, that only shows me what I am myself.
Some writers see Jacob here standing for someone greater. The claim of shared blood in this verse is where that picture starts.
I cannot help thinking that the beginning of chapter 29 is a picture, and that now Jacob takes on the character of Christ… He was a stranger, unknown. He seeks Rachel only — he would have her alone. In general, the flocks cannot drink until the well is opened. But He opens it and waters Rachel's flock. Rachel here is His Jewish chosen and beloved flock and bride. It was His — was His flesh and bone — He was a Jew.
Writers do not all press the picture the same way. One rejects a popular reading of Jacob's journey and keeps the scene on earth.
reason: restores the disputed view so the difference is on the page
- Guided. Jacob travels alone in a far country. God's merciful hand leads him to the very well where his relatives water their sheep.
- Named. He has no wealth to show, only a family name — that he is Rebekah's son and Laban's kin — and that name is enough to open the door.
- Carried. Rachel drops her work and runs home with the news. Laban runs out and receives Jacob as his own bone and flesh.
- Tested. The eager welcome came from a man who matched Jacob for trickery. Twenty years later they parted in hostility. Knowing someone well shows us what we are ourselves.
- Foreshadowed. Writers see Christ here — the stranger who claims His own as flesh and bone, and opens the well for them. They differ on how far the picture reaches: to Israel on earth, or to the church.
And it came to pass when Laban heard the tidings of Jacob his sister's son, that he ran to meet him, and embraced him, and kissed him, and brought him to his house; and he told Laban all these things.
Jacob reaches Haran with nothing. Within moments his mother's brother is running to embrace him — the man who will shape the next twenty years of his life. The welcome looks like pure family joy. Commentators ask who arranged the meeting, and what Laban was weighing as he held his nephew.
Nobody in the chapter prays, and God is not named at the well. Writers still see His hand behind every step of the encounter.
As usual, Jacob is here under God's providential care, even when we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure but unseen and unnamed direction.
That guidance was real mercy — and it led him straight to a man cut from the same cloth as himself.
In Genesis 29 Jacob takes up his journey again. At once we see the merciful hand of God directing him and opening his way. God guides his steps to the very well where his uncle Laban's sheep were watered, and where he met his cousin Rachel. Laban received him into his house with an overflowing welcome. But there Jacob found himself in the hands of a man who matched him in deceit.
The warmth is real family affection. The question is how long it lasted.
Rachel left the sheep and ran to tell her father the good news of a relative from a far country (v. 12). Laban also ran to meet Jacob, and embraced and kissed him. So he welcomed him into his home as his own "bone and flesh" (v. 14). How good it would have been if this attitude had lasted through their whole relationship! But when they parted twenty years later, the atmosphere was hostile rather than friendly.
At the parting twenty years on, one detail stands out: who did not get a kiss.
The next morning, before they parted, Laban kissed his daughters and their children. But there is no mention of his kissing Jacob, as he had done when they first met (Gen. 29:13).
This is not the first time Laban runs out to greet an arrival from Canaan. Years earlier he welcomed Abraham's servant, who had come to find a wife for Isaac — and one writer points to what triggered the rush.
It is no accident that Laban offered hospitality so readily. He had seen the ring and the bracelets on his sister's hands. He had heard her report of what Abraham's messenger said to her. He came at once to the man, who was still standing by the camels at the spring. His welcome sounded warm and pious — as such people tend to sound when honour and advantage are certain. The later history shows that Laban was a grasping man and an idolater.
Jacob's telling of "all these things" is the whole of what he brought. There were no camels, no gifts, no wealthy master behind him.
Remember the contrast with Isaac the heir, the son who stayed in his father's house. His father sent the honoured servant Eliezer to represent them both, with fitting equipment and rich gifts for the bride. Here the outcast wanderer has nothing to commend him but his relationship and his service. And Laban was not slow to see the value of so capable a man for interests dearer to him than anything else.
The door that opened to him led into an environment that fitted him uncomfortably well.
It is striking to see how he gets back into an atmosphere so completely suited to his moral make-up. The bargaining Jacob meets the bargaining Laban, and both strain every nerve to outwit each other. We cannot wonder at Laban. He had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth. He had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of Jehovah.
The twenty years that followed were not bad luck with an uncle. They were training, and the pattern holds for everyone God calls.
There he must bow to the divine discipline that had already forced him to leave his father's house and the recent unhappy influence of his mother. So it is with each of God's children. Grace is sovereign in calling even the most difficult people. But they pass under a moral government that notices every fault, so that they may share in His holiness. Compare John 15, Hebrews 12:5-11, and 1 Peter 1:15-16.
- Welcome arranged. God is never named at the well, yet the shepherds, Rachel and then Laban all arrive on cue — sure, unseen direction.
- Welcome warm. The running, embracing and kissing were real family affection. Yet twenty years later Laban kissed his daughters goodbye — and not Jacob.
- Welcome calculating. Laban had greeted a visitor from Canaan once before, with jewellery on the table. His warmth ran hottest when advantage was certain.
- Welcome empty-handed. Isaac's servant came with camels and rich gifts. Jacob brought only his kinship and his ability to work, and Laban put a price on both.
- Welcome into discipline. The bargainer walked into a bargainer's house. Grace calls the most difficult people, then puts them under a government that notices every fault.
And Laban said to him, Thou art indeed my bone and my flesh. And he abode with him a month's time.
Jacob reaches Haran a stranger. His mother's brother runs out, embraces him, and calls him family — and the month that follows opens into twenty years Jacob never planned.
Laban's phrase is a standard way of claiming someone as family. A Bible dictionary groups it with the same wording used elsewhere in Genesis:
The same kindred: "you are my bone and my flesh," Genesis 29:14; "he is our brother, and our flesh," Genesis 37:27.
Nobody prays here, and heaven stays silent. Yet one writer names who is arranging the meeting. He also marks the contrast with an earlier journey to find a bride, in Genesis 24:
Here, as usual, Jacob is under God's providential care, even when we hear only of the shepherds of Haran. Rachel appears, and Laban follows. It is His sure but unseen and unnamed direction. Yet notice the difference from Genesis 24. There Eliezer prayed a clear prayer of faith and worshipped at once. God answered promptly, and the bride responded readily.
One writer traces this family welcome to its end:
Family affection fills the scene. Jacob kissed Rachel and wept for joy, telling her that he is the son of Rebekah, her father's sister. Of course they had never met, but family ties can still be very strong... Laban also ran to meet Jacob and embraced and kissed him. So he welcomed him into his home as his own "bone and flesh" (v. 14). How good it would have been if this attitude had lasted! But when they parted 20 years later, the atmosphere was hostile, not friendly.
Jacob had used deceit to get what he wanted at home. Now he settles in with a relative who works the same way:
It is remarkable to see how he settles back into an atmosphere that suits his moral makeup so exactly. The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban. Both strain every nerve, as it were, to outwit the other. Nor can we wonder at Laban, for he had never been at Bethel: he had seen no open heaven... You cannot expect worldly men to show anything but a worldly spirit, and worldly principles and ways.
The free month ends, and Laban raises the subject of pay:
After Jacob had stayed there a month, serving Laban, the question of his wages came up. He loved Rachel, so he agreed to serve seven years for her. Verses 23-30 tell us how Laban deceived him at the end of the seven years, and Laban had a plausible excuse for acting as he did. We cannot fail to see here the working of the government of God. It illustrates our Lord's words: "with the measure you use it will be measured back to you." It was Jacob's turn now to complain of being cheated.
Being paid back in your own coin sounds like bare justice. Another writer insists that is only half of what is happening:
He is now a stranger and a servant for hire. He is the victim of the deceit and self-advancement of Laban, his relative — and near kin in character too. The retribution is impossible to mistake all the way through: the measure he has dealt out to another is dealt out to him again. But we cannot miss this either. In the way it is dealt out, God is speaking to the heart and conscience of the wanderer. There is governmental equity, but also the chastening of a holy love.
The house that disciplined Jacob left its owner untouched:
As to Laban, he was a thorough man of the world when Jacob entered his house, and so he was when Jacob left it. In all his dealings, from first to last, he eyes his own advantage. He has to admit that the hand of God was with Jacob; but he would make that hand, through Jacob, serve himself... For twenty years he saw the hand of the Lord, and the working of His grace and power, in his own house and before his own eyes, day after day. Yet he remained a man of the world.
- Kinship — "my bone and my flesh" is the plain claim of blood relation. Laban is saying: you are family.
- Providence — Jacob prays no prayer here. Yet God's unseen hand brings him to the shepherds, to Rachel, and to Laban's house.
- Likeness — the family tie is also a moral one: a bargainer arrives in a bargainer's home, and the atmosphere suits him.
- Discipline — the free month becomes paid service, and the deceiver is deceived. Writers see both God's even-handed government and a Father's correcting love.
- Contrast — twenty years under one roof left Jacob chastened and Laban unchanged. Watching God work does not by itself change a man.
And Laban said to Jacob, Because thou art my brother, shouldest thou serve me for nothing? tell me, what shall be thy wages?
Jacob has worked a month for his uncle Laban with no agreement about pay. Now Laban asks what his wages should be, and Jacob's answer — seven years of work for Rachel — raises the question the commentators press hard: can a bride be bought?
Laban opens the bargain only after a month of unpaid service. Jacob's reply shows an old habit.
They had been together one month, with Jacob apparently working for his uncle. Then Laban realised that Jacob should have wages for his service, and asked what Jacob would like for wages. Here again Jacob's character as a bargainer stands out. Laban had a daughter older than Rachel, but she was not as attractive. Jacob was drawn only to Rachel and offered to work for Laban for seven years to earn Rachel as his wife.
Laban appeals to kinship, and kinship is nearly all Jacob has. Isaac's bride was sought very differently.
Remember the contrast with Isaac the heir, the son who stayed in his father's house. Remember too the honoured servant Eliezer, sent to represent him and his father, with a fitting escort and rich gifts for the bride. Here the outcast wanderer has nothing to recommend him but his relationship and his service. And Laban was quick to see the value of so capable a man for interests dearer to him than anything else. So the bargain was soon struck, and Laban accepted Jacob's warm offer at once.
Laban's welcome had been warm. His character was another matter.
Laban welcomed him into his house with open arms, but there Jacob found himself in the hands of a man who matched him in deceit.
Commentators fault both men here, not Laban only. The wrong lies in treating a marriage as a transaction at all.
And here is where Jacob makes a serious mistake. I used to feel very sorry for Jacob when Laban deceived him and he got a wife he did not want — he wanted Rachel, not Leah. But do you know where Jacob went wrong? He got Leah by bargaining. Jacob badly misrepresented the relationship that gives the most beautiful picture of the bond between Christ and the church. That bond is one of pure grace. Jacob brought it down to the level of a merely legal thing instead of recognising it as a thing of pure grace.
The same writer goes back to the first marriage of all, and notes that Laban was selling what was never his.
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were completely wrong in placing a monetary value on a wife. When the Lord created a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift by grace. Grace should always come first in the sacred relationship of marriage.
The seven years ended with Laban giving Leah instead of Rachel. Commentators see God's hand behind the trick.
We cannot fail to see in this the working of God's government. It illustrates our Lord's words, "with the measure you use it will be measured to you." It was Jacob's turn now to complain of being cheated.
Jacob's long work for love has another side. Writers see in it a picture of Christ winning His bride.
He has Himself gone into the distant land, and has worked and suffered reproach and wrong for her. In all this, Jacob sets forth the true Bridegroom. The Lord Jesus Himself has borne the heat of the day alone. He had nowhere to lay His head, like Jacob. He was away from His Father's house and from the place of His inheritance. He was wronged again and again in a world which, like Laban and his house, always seeks its own.
The contrast teaches as much as the likeness. Jacob served for hire; Christ did not.
See the contrast with the Bridegroom. He longs deeply for the bride, yet He is content to be cut off and have nothing. He refuses to serve the world for hire. He is content to be a stranger to His brothers, a foreigner to His mother's children. He serves His Father in the appointed place. He becomes obedient to death. He loves the wages of righteousness. He has a right to all, yet takes none, so that He might receive all in resurrection.
- Wages asked. After a month of unpaid work, Laban offers pay. This is not generosity. He had seen the worth of a capable man for interests dearer to him than anything else.
- Wages named. Jacob arrives with nothing but kinship and work to offer. He prices Rachel at seven years, and his old habit as a bargainer shows again.
- Wages wrong. Rachel was never Laban's to sell. Marriage pictures pure grace, and Jacob dragged it down to a legal deal.
- Wages returned. Laban deceives the deceiver, and God's government pays Jacob back by the measure he had used.
- Wages refused. The true Bridegroom toiled for His bride in a world that, like Laban's house, always seeks its own. Yet He took no hire. He received everything in resurrection.
And Laban had two daughters the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger, Rachel.
One short verse introduces the two sisters Jacob will marry, and it marks which one is older. That order matters. It becomes the trap Laban sets for Jacob, and, for many writers, a picture of God's ways.
Commentators start with what the two names mean:
Rachel, "sheep," seems to stand for the meekness and patience of true discipleship. That is the very opposite of Jacob's self-willed and unrestrained temper up to now. But he must get her through unwanted Leah. Her name, "wearied," suggests the "tribulation" that works "patience" out.
The verse marks Leah as the elder. A firstborn's rights are exactly what Jacob had ignored at home, and one writer sees God's hand in what followed:
His uncle's deception might well have reminded Jacob of his own past. He had deceived a relative himself — his own father. Such things have a way of recoiling, under the governing hand of God. It is a striking fact that those who take on the character of deceivers will very likely be deceived themselves (2 Tim. 3:13). Here too Jacob learned, painfully, the rights of a firstborn. He had ignored those rights in the case of his brother Esau.
Jacob then offers Laban seven years of work for Rachel. Commentators call that bargain wrong on both sides, and set it against the first marriage of all:
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were totally wrong in placing a mercenary value on a wife. When the Lord created a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift by grace. Grace should always come first in the sacred relationship of marriage.
Jacob's love carried him through years of hard service. One writer finds here the one point in Jacob's life that pictures Christ:
And only after years of toil could Jacob claim her as his own. By day the heat consumed him, and the frost by night; and sleep left his eyes. But love lightened the burdens and sweetened all the bitterness of those long years. "So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her" (Gen. 29:20). This is the only phase of his life in which Jacob appears as a picture of our Lord. He is the One "who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and (His toil ended) is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."
Commentators differ on how far to press the picture. Some read the sisters as two groups of people:
I have no doubt that Leah represents the Gentiles, and Rachel the Jews.
On that reading, each sister has her own place:
Here we find the picture in Rachel: so long wooed yet withheld, so long barren, so great a cause of sorrow and anxiety, and yet so greatly and endlessly loved... Leah (who is regarded as picturing the Gentile) was the first one Jacob got, but she was not the first one he sought... Even so, she is the most fruitful. She is honoured in the births of Judah and Levi — the Ruler and the Teacher, King and Priest.
Others take the two sisters as a picture of something nearer home — the gap between what we wish we were and what we are:
Rachel (meaning "sheep") pictures the lovely state of soul that believers would like to reach: humble submission to God. She was the desire of Jacob's heart. But in struggling to get Rachel, he only got Leah, whose name means "wearied." Leah is a picture of what I really am, not what I want to be... I may try hard to make myself different, only to find myself "stuck" with what I really am, as Jacob was "stuck" with Leah! This is the struggle of Romans 7, where "I" is seen fighting against "I."
- Named — Leah means "wearied," Rachel means "sheep." We reach the meekness we want through the tiredness we did not want.
- Ordered — Leah is the elder, and that becomes the trap. Jacob had pushed past a firstborn's rights, and now he must learn them.
- Priced — Jacob works to earn a wife. God gave Adam his wife as a gift of grace.
- Loved — love made seven years feel like a few days. Here alone Jacob's toil pictures Christ, who endured for the joy set before Him.
- Fruitful — Leah, the wife Jacob never asked for, bore Judah and Levi — the King and the Priest.
And the eyes of Leah were tender; but Rachel was of beautiful form and beautiful countenance.
The story stops here to compare two sisters. That comparison shapes all that follows: who Jacob wants, who he gets, and who bears his sons. It is one line about eyes and beauty. Yet commentators read in it both a hard lesson for a schemer and a picture of God's wider dealings.
The two names carry meanings, and the story acts them out. One writer prints them, with the older reading "tender" where the ESV has "weak":
Laban had two daughters: the name of the elder was Leah (Weariness), and the name of the younger was Rachel (Ewe). And the eyes of Leah were tender... And Jacob served seven years for Rachel; and they were in his eyes a few days, for his love to her.
Jacob answered the difference between the sisters by buying the one he wanted:
Rachel did not belong to Laban. Both Jacob and Laban were completely wrong to put a price on a wife. When the Lord created a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift, by grace. Grace should always rule in the sacred relationship of marriage.
Laban then handed him the plain daughter in the dark. That reversal was not bad luck:
His uncle's trick might well have reminded Jacob of his own. He himself had deceived a relative before — his own father. Such things have a way of recoiling, under the governing hand of God. It is a striking fact that those who form the character of deceivers will very likely be deceived themselves (2 Tim. 3:13). In this case too Jacob painfully learned the rights of a firstborn, which he had ignored in the case of his brother Esau.
Verse 17 ranks the sisters by looks. God ranks them the other way:
It is not Elohim here, but Jehovah, God in special relationship and moral dealing. He looked on the sorrowful and despised wife. He gave the comfort of a son not to Rachel but to Leah, the one "hated" by comparison. Rachel, happy in her husband's love, stayed barren!
The woman passed over for her looks became mother of the leading tribes:
She was 'tender eyed,' and not as beautiful as Rachel. But God blessed her: she bore Jacob six sons and one daughter. So she became the mother of the heads of the important tribes of Reuben, Levi, and Judah, as well as of Simeon, Issachar, and Zebulun.
Commentators differ on what the two sisters picture. One reads them like this:
Rachel represents Israel, Messiah's first object of love on earth. But this fails by no fault on His part. And He has Leah. She represents the call of the Gentiles — the nations — in the meantime, during Jacob's servant state and great sorrows, when "more are the children of the desolate than of the married wife, says Jehovah" (Isaiah 54:4, compare Gal. 4).
Another writer takes Leah as a picture of the church rather than of the nations generally, and draws the timing out further:
Rachel typifies Israel, Christ's earthly bride. Jacob first sought Rachel, but received Leah. In the same way Christ came first to Israel; and when Israel rejected Him, He first received the church. Leah, like the church, is the fruitful one. Later, loved Rachel passes off the scene, like Israel after the Millennium, and Leah remains as Jacob's companion in the land of promise.
Read closer to home, the two sisters picture an inner struggle:
Rachel (meaning "sheep") pictures the lovely state of soul in humble submission to God that believers would like to reach. But in struggling to get Rachel, Jacob only got Leah, meaning "wearied." Leah is a picture of what I really am, not what I desire to be. I may try hard to make myself different, only to find myself "stuck" with what I really am, as Jacob was "stuck" with Leah! This is the struggle of Romans 7, where "I" fights against "I."
The sister Jacob admired was no safer than the one he did not want:
Although Jacob loved Rachel so much, beautiful and well favoured, was she completely trustworthy? No. Later she stole her father's idols, hid them in her tent, and deceived him. This is like our own hearts. The lesson is this: the desire to reach a high spiritual state has in it the elements of idolatry and of deceit. A person who wants to reach a certain state will try to deceive himself into thinking he can make it... There can be no perfection while we remain in the flesh.
- Names. Leah means "weariness"; Rachel means "ewe." The verse sets weak eyes beside beauty of form and face, and the names then play out in the story.
- Bargain. Jacob put a price on a bride he should have received as a gift. Grace, not payment, belongs to marriage.
- Recoil. In the dark, Laban deceived the deceiver. Under God's governing hand Jacob learned the rights of a firstborn he had once ignored.
- Reversal. God looked on the despised wife and gave her a son, while the loved one stayed barren. The plainer sister became mother of Reuben, Levi and Judah.
- Mirror. Rachel is the state of soul we wish we had; Leah is what we are. Neither sister was trustworthy, and no one reaches perfection while we remain in the flesh.
And Jacob loved Rachel, and said, I will serve thee seven years for Rachel thy younger daughter.
Jacob has nothing to offer but his own work, so he names a price of seven years for the woman he loves. That raises two questions: was this bargain right, and why did the price feel so light to the man paying it?
In that world a man did not just ask for a wife. He paid her family for her. A Bible dictionary lists Jacob's offer alongside the other payments Scripture records:
The sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife. Genesis 34:12; Exodus 22:16-17; 1 Samuel 18:25: compare Hosea 3:2. When Leah had her sixth son, she said devoutly, "God has endowed me with a good endowment." Genesis 30:20. The dowry which Jacob gave for his wives was seven years' service for each. Genesis 29:18, 27.
Custom does not settle whether the arrangement was right. One writer faults both men, because Laban had no right to sell what was never his:
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were completely wrong to put a mercenary value on a wife. When the Lord created a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift by grace, and grace should always be uppermost in the sacred relationship of marriage.
One writer sets Jacob's bargain beside Isaac's marriage:
Remember the great contrast: Isaac the heir, the son who stayed in his father's house. His father sent the honoured servant Eliezer to represent Isaac and himself, with a proper escort and costly gifts for the bride. Here the outcast wanderer has nothing to recommend him but his relationship and his service. Laban quickly saw the value of so capable a man for interests dearer to him than anything else. So they soon struck the bargain, and he accepted Jacob's warm offer at once.
The next verse tells us the seven years felt like a few days. One writer draws from it the only point where Jacob's life pictures Christ:
Only after years of toil could Jacob claim her as his own. In the day the drought consumed him, and the frost by night; and his sleep left his eyes. But love lightened the burdens and sweetened all the bitterness of those long years. "So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her." This is the only phase of his life in which Jacob appears to be a type of our Lord. Christ "for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame." His toil ended, He is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.
The same power carries the Christian who waits for Christ's return: "Love annihilated time. The story explains the great secret of the power of an all-absorbing object of affection" (J. Wilson Smith).
Jacob asks for Rachel. Laban will give him Leah. One writer reads the swap as God's government at work:
The story of how Laban deceived him at the end of the seven years is given to us in verses 23-30, and Laban had a plausible excuse for acting as he did. We cannot fail to see in this the working of the government of God, and an illustration of our Lord's words, "with the measure you use it will be measured to you." It was Jacob's turn now to complain of being cheated.
Kelly names the purpose: Jacob "might judge himself, and learn by his own experience how hateful it is to give way to deceit" (William Kelly).
One writer reads the two sisters as standing for two peoples:
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I have no doubt that in the two wives we have the Gentiles and Israel: Rachel first loved on the earth, but not possessed; but Leah the fruitful mother of children. Rachel had children also afterwards on the earth. Rachel, standing for the Jews, is the mother of Joseph, and later of Benjamin — that is, of a suffering Christ glorified among the Gentiles while rejected by Israel, and of a reigning Christ.
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- Price. Jacob's seven years were a dowry — the customary payment made to a bride's family, paid here in labour because he had nothing else.
- Bargain. One writer judges the deal itself wrong: Rachel was not Laban's to sell, and grace, not commerce, should govern marriage.
- Poverty. Isaac's father sent Eliezer with costly gifts to fetch a bride; the outcast Jacob had only his relationship and his work to commend him.
- Love. The years felt like days because love was carrying them — the one point where Jacob pictures Christ, who endured for the joy set before Him.
- Measure. Laban handed the deceiver the wrong bride; the measure Jacob used came back to him, so that he might judge himself.
And Laban said, It is better that I give her to thee than that I should give her to another man abide with me.
Laban answers Jacob's offer of seven years' work with words that sound like family kindness. In fact a nephew with nothing goes to work for an uncle who stands to gain everything. This verse closes the deal, and the deal shapes the years that follow.
Jacob has come from Bethel, where God had promised him the land and a countless family. Yet the man he now sits down to trade with is his own mirror.
It is remarkable to see how he slips back into a setting that suits his character so completely. The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban, and you can see them both straining every nerve to outwit each other. And we cannot wonder at Laban. He had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth. He had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of Jehovah, granting him all the land of Canaan and a family beyond counting. No wonder he showed a grasping, low spirit. He had nothing else to fall back on... But Jacob had seen and heard all this at Bethel. To find him struggling with a man of the world, and trying that way to build up property, is especially humbling.
Laban replies fast because the terms suit him. An earlier marriage in the same family had looked very different.
The contrast with Isaac is striking. Isaac was the heir, the son who stayed in his father's house. The honoured servant Eliezer was sent to represent Isaac and his father Abraham, with proper supplies and rich gifts for the bride. Here the outcast wanderer has nothing to offer but his family tie and his work. And Laban was quick to see the value of such a capable man for the interests he cared about above everything else. So the bargain was soon struck, and Laban accepted Jacob's warm offer at once.
Laban speaks as though Rachel were his to hand to the highest bidder.
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were completely wrong to put a money value on a wife. When the Lord made a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift of grace. Grace should always come first in the sacred relationship of marriage.
Jacob agreed to seven years of work. How long they felt depended on his heart.
The seven years during which Jacob had to serve for his wife "seemed to him but a few days, for the love he had for her." His heart was in it, and the years flew past like days. Love annihilated time. The story explains the great secret of the power of a love that fills the whole heart.
Laban will not keep the terms he has just accepted. What Jacob suffers here matches what he had done to others.
In his exile he reaps what he had sown; as he deceived his father, so Laban deceives him. He had taken unfair advantage of his brother Esau's hunger. Now his uncle Laban takes advantage of his position, and Jacob has to work hard for his wages.
God let the deceit happen, and He had a reason for it.
Laban wronged Jacob gravely, in a matter that must touch a man's heart... But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn, through his own wounded heart, how vile self-seeking deceit is. So He allowed it, and He would use it for chastening and for good in the end.
Jacob the schemer is hard to admire. Jacob serving for Rachel is another matter.
Only after years of hard work could Jacob claim her as his own. By day the heat wore him down, and by night the frost; and sleep left his eyes. But love lightened the burdens and sweetened all the bitterness of those long years...
- Bargain. Laban's kind-sounding words close a trade. He gains a capable worker; Jacob pays with seven years.
- Grace. A wife was meant to be a gift, as the first woman was given to Adam. Pricing Rachel by years of work was wrong on both sides.
- Love. The price was heavy, but love shrank seven years to a few days — love annihilated time.
- Harvest. Jacob deceived his father; now Laban deceives him. He reaps what he sowed, and feels it where it hurts most.
- Picture. Serving to win a bride is the one place where Jacob's life pictures Christ, who endured for the joy set before Him.
And Jacob served seven years for Rachel; and they were in his eyes as single days, because he loved her.
Jacob's first seven years of work for Laban fit into one sentence: long labour that felt short. The verse says nothing about wages or hardship. It only shows what love did to time, and commentators read it two ways — as a window into human love, and as a picture of Christ working to win His bride.
The measure of the years was not the calendar but the heart. One writer turns Jacob's experience into a test of how we wait for the Lord:
To say in your heart that the Lord delays His coming is a very clear, though silent, way of saying you do not want Him to come. He is not the ruling desire. Jacob served seven years for his wife, and they "seemed to him but a few days, because of the love he had for her." His heart was in it, and the years flew by like days. Love wiped out time. The story explains the great secret of the power of an all-absorbing object of affection.
One writer sets studying prophecy against longing for the Lord Himself:
He waits and longs for the Lord because he loves Him who first loved us... One person may know prophecy very well and have none of that hope; another may be full of the hope and know nothing about prophecy... If you love someone, you delight to see them. Being away from the person you love is hard. There may be very good reasons for the delay, but the delay tests your patience, and the hope that the one you love will come back soon is the greatest joy.
"A few days" describes the feeling, not the facts. The work itself was hard, and one writer spells out what it involved:
He had to bear the weight and heat of a long, hard day before he could take Rachel as his own. The law of her people, the law of her country, and the greedy demands of Laban had put him on these terms. He had to endure sun by day and moon by night, to work night and day, and to have his exile stretched out — or go without his Rachel.
The arrangement itself is no model. One writer faults both men for putting a price on a wife, and contrasts that with how marriage began:
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were wrong to put a money value on a wife. When the Lord created a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift by grace, and grace should always rule in the sacred relationship of marriage. Still, Jacob was willing to work seven years for all this because of his deep love for Rachel.
Another writer warns against judging those days by later standards:
Then came the humbling test of the younger daughter, offered on the same terms of long service. To Jacob those years seemed like only a few days, because he loved her. But we must not measure this case, any more than others in Old Testament times, by the light the Saviour later shed on marriage, as on everything else.
This stretch of Jacob's life stands apart from the rest. One writer marks it as the single exception:
By day the heat consumed him, and the cold by night, and his sleep fled from his eyes. But love lightened the load and took the bitterness out of those long years... And this is the only phase of his life in which the patriarch Jacob appears to picture our Lord, "who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."
Read alongside the law of the servant who refuses his freedom for love of his wife, the picture stretches past the cross into a service that never ends:
Jacob's seven years of service for Rachel pictures Christ becoming a servant to win the church. This pictures a service that never ends, gladly taken up to keep her. The more we think about the depth of love and the height of devotion here, the further beyond our understanding they seem.
Commentators differ on what the two sisters represent. One reading assigns them to two peoples:
I have no doubt that Leah represents the Gentiles, and Rachel the Jews.
Another traces the order of events rather than the identities:
It appears that Rachel was the first beloved wife, but in fact the last to enjoy, and bear the fruits of, the relationship... Leah before this is the mother of many sons, as there are before Israel comes into full and happy view.
- Love measures. Seven years shrank to days for Jacob, because love, not the calendar, set the length of the wait.
- Love pays. The feeling was light; the work was not — heat by day, cold by night, sleepless work under a greedy employer.
- Love gives. A wife bought as wages reverses Eden, where God gave the woman as a gift. Grace, not bargaining, belongs in marriage.
- Love serves. In this one scene Jacob resembles Christ, who endured the cross for the joy set before Him and serves on to keep the bride He won.
- Love waits. Love made Jacob's years fly. The same love makes a Christian long for the Lord's return instead of saying He delays.
And Jacob said to Laban, Give [me] my wife, for my days are fulfilled, that I may go in to her.
Seven years of service are over, and Jacob does not ask Laban for Rachel — he demands her, because the time is served. Two questions hang over the scene: was the bargain right at all, and why does God let Jacob's confident claim end in a trick?
The deal Jacob now calls in was wrong from the start. Both men put a price tag on a woman, and one writer sets that against the very first marriage.
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were completely wrong to place a mercenary value on a wife. When the Lord created a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift by grace. Grace should always rule in the sacred relationship of marriage. Still, Jacob was willing to work all those seven years because of his intense love for Rachel. In fact the time seemed very short to him compared with the prospect of having her as his wife. When the time was completed he asked Laban to give him Rachel now (v. 21).
Jacob does not say the years dragged. He says they are finished — and the reason the counting felt light is love. The same love decides whether a person actually wants the Lord to come back.
Jacob had to serve seven years for his wife. They "seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her" (Gen. 29:20). His heart was in it, and the years flew by like days. Love wiped out time. The story explains the great secret of the power of an all-absorbing object of affection. Let us weigh this carefully. It is very clear that no such object governed the heart of the evil servant. He did not love his Lord, and he did not care about His coming.
Jacob has no gifts and no wealth to offer for Rachel. What he does have, Laban wants.
Here the outcast wanderer has nothing to recommend him but his relationship and his service. Laban was not slow to see the value of so capable a man for interests dearer to him than anything else. So the bargain was quickly struck and Jacob's eager offer instantly accepted. But then the full time of service for his bride arrived. The crafty uncle put on a wedding feast in Jacob's honour, yet he had no scruple about the cruel trick of swapping Leah for Rachel, the one Jacob had wanted from the first.
Jacob once handed deceit out to someone else. Now he is about to receive a disguised bride, and one writer says the repayment is not cold justice.
Here the second period of his life begins. He is now a stranger and a servant working for hire. He is the victim of deceit and self-advancement by Laban, his relative and morally his close kin too. The retribution runs all the way through, and no one can mistake it: the measure he handed out to another comes back to him. But it is just as impossible to miss that God, in the way He deals it out, is speaking to the heart and conscience of the wanderer. There is governmental fairness, but also the chastening of a holy love. Bethel is proving itself true. The Father disciplines every son He receives.
Jacob can claim Rachel only because the work is done. One writer finds his single likeness to the Saviour right there: the toil first, then the bride.
Then comes Rachel, "beautiful in form and appearance." Only after years of toil could Jacob claim her as his own. By day the drought consumed him and the frost by night, and sleep fled from his eyes. But love lightened the burdens and sweetened all the bitterness of those long years. "So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her" (Gen. 29:20). This is the only part of his life where Jacob pictures our Lord. He is the One "who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and (His toil ended) is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."
- Bargain. Jacob claims a wife he priced like wages. A wife is God's gift by grace, and grace should govern marriage.
- Love. Love for Rachel wiped out time, so seven years felt like days. Love for Christ makes waiting for Him just as light.
- Empty hands. He brings no gifts, only his family tie and his work — and Laban sees exactly what that work is worth.
- Discipline. Instead of Rachel he receives Leah. The measure he handed out to another comes back to him — fair government, and a Father's loving correction.
- Christ. Here alone Jacob pictures the Lord. He endured the cross for the joy set before Him, and now, His work done, He is seated at God's right hand.
And Laban gathered together all the men of the place, and made a feast.
Jacob has finished seven years of work for Rachel, and Laban throws the wedding feast. It looks like the happy end of a long wait, yet the night that follows raises a hard question: what was God doing while Laban cheated His servant?
The feast honoured Jacob in public. The deal behind it was one-sided from the start: an exile with only his work to offer, and an uncle who knew what that work was worth.
Here the outcast wanderer has nothing in his favour but his family tie and his service. Laban was not slow to see the value of so capable a man for interests dearer to him than all others. So the bargain was soon struck, and Jacob's warm offer was accepted at once. But the full time of service for his bride arrived. Then the crafty uncle, under all his show of a wedding feast in Jacob's honour, felt no shame in a cruel deceit. He put Leah in the place of Rachel, the one his heart had wanted from the first.
Jacob had once deceived his own father to get what he wanted. Now his uncle deceives him, and commentators see the same standard coming back on him.
Verses 23-30 tell how Laban deceived him at the end of the seven years. Laban had a plausible excuse for acting as he did. In this we cannot fail to see the government of God at work. It illustrates our Lord's words, "with the measure you use it will be measured to you." Now it was Jacob's turn to complain of being tricked.
The night had two lessons in it for Jacob.
There are two things Jacob has to learn on this memorable occasion. First, for his comfort: all his failures will not alter God's purpose to bless him in sovereign grace. Second, for his correction: God's sovereign grace will not hold back God's chastening hand because of his failures... He still has to go on as a lonely wanderer. He must spend long years of toil and hard service in the house of a stranger, because of his sin against his father and brother. He has to reap what he has sown.
The pattern runs through his whole life, and it does not end in gloom.
He had deceived his father and cheated his brother. In turn he was deceived and cheated by his father-in-law, and later by his own sons. But all this only makes God's grace to him shine the brighter.
The feast drew in "all the people of the place." Inside the house, the deceit needed one more person's silence.
Laban wronged Jacob deeply, in a matter that must touch a man's heart. And Leah was without doubt a willing party to the cheating breach of the marriage agreement about Rachel. She could and should have told Jacob the unworthy trick her father was playing through her. But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn more deeply, in his own wounded affections, how vile self-seeking deceit is. So He allowed what He would use for chastening and for good in the end.
Jacob ends up with the wife he did not choose, and she is the one who bears children. Commentators read this in more than one way. Some see God's dealings with Israel and the nations:
I have no doubt that in the two wives we have the Gentiles and Israel. Rachel was loved first on the earth, but not gained. Leah was the fruitful mother of children.
Others draw it inward, to the gap between who we want to be and who we are:
Rachel (meaning "sheep") pictures the lovely state of soul that believers would like to reach: humble submission to God. She was the desire of Jacob's heart. But in struggling to get Rachel, he only got Leah, meaning "wearied." Leah is a picture of what I really am, not what I want to be.
- Feast — the celebration was real, and so was the plan behind it. Honour shown in daylight covered a swap made in the dark.
- Measure — the man who deceived his own father received the wrong bride from his father-in-law. The standard he used came back to him.
- Government — God did not step in to stop it; He used it, so Jacob would feel in his own wounded love how hateful deceit is.
- Grace — his failures never cancelled God's purpose to bless him. Discipline and sovereign grace ran side by side, and the grace shines brighter for it.
- Picture — the wife he wanted first was not the wife he received first. Some read this of Israel and the nations, others of the gap between what we long to be and what we are.
And it came to pass in the evening, that he took Leah his daughter, and brought her to him; and he went in to her.
Jacob had worked seven years for the woman he loved. On the wedding night, in the dark, Laban put the elder sister in Rachel's place. Two questions rise at once: how did it happen, and why did God let the deceiver be deceived?
Darkness did the work. Jacob had no way to see who was brought to him.
So Laban made a marriage feast for them. When evening came — and with it darkness, with only very dim light at best — Laban had Leah go to share Jacob's bed with him. Jacob had no suspicion of this until the morning. Perhaps he had drunk too much wine at the feast. But he was not prepared for such dishonest deception from a close relative.
The next morning Laban had an answer ready: in his country, he said, the elder daughter must marry first.
If he were honest, he would at least have told Jacob this when they made the agreement seven years earlier! Maybe Laban made up this rule in his own mind and then treated it as his country's custom! Surely, if it had been the usual custom, Jacob would have heard of it during those seven years. But Laban knew that the best way to get Jacob to continue working for him was to do just what he did.
Laban's excuse was not the whole story. A higher hand was at work.
Laban had a believable excuse for acting as he did. But we cannot miss the working of the government of God here. It illustrates our Lord's words: "with the measure you use it will be measured to you." It was Jacob's turn now to complain of being beguiled.
The payback even matches the detail. Jacob had once brushed aside his brother's place as elder son.
The deception by his uncle might well have reminded Jacob that he had once deceived a relative himself — his own father. Such things have a way of coming back, under the governing hand of God. It is a striking fact that people who take up the character of deceivers will very likely be deceived themselves. Here too Jacob learned, painfully, the rights of a firstborn — rights he had ignored in the case of his brother Esau.
But this is not cold payback.
You cannot mistake the repayment running through it all. The measure he gave to another is measured back to him. But you also cannot miss that, in the way it is handed out, God is speaking to the heart and conscience of the wanderer. There is fairness in God's government, but also the chastening of a holy love.
Two people wronged Jacob that night, not one. And God had reasons for letting it happen.
Laban wronged Jacob badly, in a matter that must touch a man's heart deeply. And Leah, beyond doubt, agreed to the cheating that broke the marriage agreement about Rachel. She could and should have told Jacob the shabby trick her father was playing through her. But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn, in his own wounded love, how vile selfish deceit is. So He allowed what He would use in the end for chastening and for good.
One writer traces the trouble further back, to the bargain itself.
Jacob got Leah by bargaining. In doing so he badly misrepresented the marriage relationship, which pictures the relationship between Christ and the church so beautifully — a relationship of pure grace. He brought it down to the level of a mere legal deal instead of seeing it as a thing of pure grace. What was the price here? Seven years of wages. It was completely wrong; a wife is worth far more than that.
One writer reads the order of the two marriages as a picture of Christ's own path.
Rachel is a picture of Israel, Christ's earthly bride. Jacob sought Rachel first, but received Leah first. So Christ came first to Israel; Israel rejected Him, and He received the church first. Leah, like the church, is the fruitful one.
- Sowing. Jacob deceived his own father; now, in the dark, his father-in-law deceives him. The measure he used is measured back to him.
- Precision. The repayment fits the crime. He ignored a firstborn's rights; now an elder daughter's rights bind him.
- Purpose. The wrong was real, and Leah shared in it. Yet God allowed it, so Jacob would feel in his own heart how hateful deceit is.
- Love. This is not bare payback. It is the chastening of a holy love, and God is speaking to the wanderer's conscience.
- Grace. Marriage pictures the pure grace between Christ and the church. Jacob dragged it down into a bargain, and paid a price for a bride worth far more.
And Laban gave to her Zilpah, his maidservant, to be maidservant to Leah his daughter.
Jacob worked seven years to marry Rachel. On the wedding night Laban sent Leah instead, and with her a servant girl named Zilpah — the woman who would become the mother of two of Israel's tribes.
The gift of this servant belongs to a night of fraud. Jacob made an eager offer, Laban took it at once, then broke it when the seven years were up.
So they soon struck the bargain, and Laban took Jacob's eager offer at once. But when the full term of service for his bride was up, the crafty uncle put on a wedding feast in Jacob's honour. Behind all that show he had no scruple about the cruel deceit of putting Leah in the place of Rachel, the one Jacob's heart had wanted from the first.
Jacob had used deceit before. Now deceit falls on him, and commentators read the whole episode as God's dealing with him, not bad luck.
Verses 23-30 tell how Laban deceived him at the end of the seven years, and Laban had a plausible excuse for acting as he did. We cannot fail to see here the working of the government of God. It illustrates our Lord's words: "With the measure you use it will be measured to you." Now it was Jacob's turn to complain that someone had tricked him.
The wrong was real, and Leah kept silent when she could have spoken. God allowed it because He meant to work something in Jacob through it.
Laban wronged Jacob badly, in a matter bound to cut a man to the heart. Leah was beyond doubt a willing party to this cheating breach of the marriage agreement about Rachel. She could and should have told Jacob the unworthy trick her father was playing through her. But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn something deeper. In his own wounded heart he would feel how vile self-seeking deceit is. So God allowed it, and He would use it for chastening and for good in the end.
The Bible names this servant again long after the wedding night. Two of Jacob's sons came from her.
Servant of Leah, and through her Jacob became the father of Gad and Asher. Gen. 29:24; Gen. 30:9-12; Gen. 35:26; Gen. 37:2; Gen. 46:18.
The names in this story carry meaning of their own. One writer traces them from patience, through tribulation, to terror and tears.
Rachel, "sheep," seems to stand for the meekness and patience of true discipleship. That is the very opposite of Jacob's self-willed and unrestrained temper up to now. But he could only win her through unwanted Leah, whose name, "wearied," suggests the "tribulation" that works out "patience." And even then, before Rachel had a child, and in despair of ever having one, the maidservants came in — Bilhah, "terror," and Zilpah, "a dropping" (as of tears).
Leah later gave Zilpah to Jacob, matching what Rachel had done with her own maid. The names of the sons record the contest between the two sisters.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction in scoring points of strife. Leah was drawn into the snare, and through Zilpah she would match that advantage. The names she gave Zilpah's sons, Gad and Asher, do not carry the contention that ruled Rachel's spirit; but they fall far short of the faith Leah showed in naming her own sons.
The sons of Jacob arrive in a tangled order. One writer sees man's own hand behind it.
This order speaks to us of man's plans acting according to his own thoughts, outside the thoughts of God. We see these plans in Laban's giving his daughters to Jacob and in Rachel and Leah giving Jacob their maidservants.
Yet God did not disown the children born from that tangle.
God's institution of marriage was the union of one man and one woman — the two, and only two, becoming one. What is more than this is not of God, but comes from human lust. Jacob's two wives gave their maidservants to their husband, and so he had four wives. God reckoned the twelve sons of these four women equally as sons of Jacob, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. It might have been thought that God would not have blessed the offspring of these unions, but He did.
- Handed over. Laban passed Zilpah to Leah on the night he swapped one daughter for another — a gift folded inside a deliberate fraud.
- Measured back. The deceiver was deceived. Writers see God's government here, measuring back to Jacob what he had measured out.
- Aimed at the heart. God allowed the wrong so that Jacob's own wounded heart would teach him how vile self-seeking deceit is.
- Misused. Leah later handed this servant on to Jacob, and the names of Zilpah's sons fell short of the faith Leah once showed.
- Reckoned anyway. Human scheming arranged these marriages, yet God counted all twelve sons as Jacob's and made them heads of Israel's tribes.
And it came to pass in the morning, that behold, it was Leah. And he said to Laban, What is this thou hast done to me? Have I not served thee for Rachel? Why then hast thou deceived me?
Jacob wakes after his wedding night and finds the wrong woman beside him. His protest to Laban is a cry of betrayal — from a man who had once played the same trick on his own father. The chapter raises two questions at once: what kind of man was Laban, and what was God doing with Jacob?
The trick worked because Laban controlled the whole wedding, and because darkness hid everything until daylight.
When evening came, darkness fell with it, and there was only very dim light at best. Laban sent Leah to share Jacob's bed, and Jacob suspected nothing until morning. He may have drunk too much wine at the feast. But he was in no way ready for such a shameless trick from a close relative.
The wrong was real. Jacob had kept his side of the bargain in full. The man who took his work broke faith with him.
Jacob asks, "Why then have you deceived me?" His father Isaac could once have asked him the same question. One writer notes how well God's discipline fit the crime.
Under the government of God, Jacob found himself in the hands of a man even more selfish than himself. God's discipline fit his case remarkably well, and it came through his marriage. He was deceived over Laban's two daughters, just as Isaac had been deceived by his two sons. Age had blinded Isaac; the strange marriage customs of the east blinded Jacob.
This was not a one-off. It was a pattern: Jacob deceived a relative, and a relative deceived him.
Such things have a way of coming back on a man, under the governing hand of God. It is a striking fact that people who take on the character of deceivers will very likely be deceived themselves (2 Tim. 3:13). Here too Jacob learned, with pain, the rights of a firstborn — rights he had ignored in the case of his brother Esau.
God's purpose to bless Jacob never wavered. But it did not shield him from the consequences of what he had done.
First, for his comfort, he will learn that all his failures will not change God's purpose to bless him in sovereign grace. Second, for his correction, he will learn that God's sovereign grace will not hold back God's chastening hand because of his failures. The sovereign grace of the Lord will not set aside the faithful government of the Lord... He has to reap what he has sown. If Jacob deceives his father with the skins of goats, then in the years to come his own sons will deceive him with the blood of a goat.
The pain had a purpose. Jacob had to feel from the inside what he had made his father feel.
Here it was the LORD dealing with Jacob, so that he would judge himself. He would learn from his own experience how hateful it is to give in to deceit — even when the aim was to gain the birthright or the blessing over a godless brother... In this way a person gets used to the fact that he has to do with God in the little things of life, as people count them, as well as in the greatest.
Leah does not come out of this innocent either. She could have warned Jacob in time.
Leah was without doubt a willing party to this cheating breach of the marriage agreement over Rachel. She could and should have told Jacob what a shameful trick her father was playing through her. But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn, in his own wounded heart, how vile self-seeking deceit is. So He allowed what He would use in the end for chastening and for good.
One writer reads the two wives as a picture of something larger. In this reading each woman stands for a people God calls.
Rachel represents Israel, the Messiah's first object of love on earth. But this fails, and through no fault of His. And He has Leah, who stands for the call of the Gentile nations that comes in between, while Jacob serves and suffers greatly.
- Sowing. Jacob fooled a blind father about two sons. Laban fooled a bridegroom in the dark about two daughters. The match is too close to be an accident.
- Reaping. The wrong done to Jacob was genuine wickedness in Laban, and at the same time the hand of God governing His own child.
- Grace. God's purpose to bless Jacob stood untouched. Being loved by God does not cancel the harvest of what we plant.
- Purpose. God aimed the pain at Jacob's conscience. Jacob had to learn for himself how hateful deceit is — and to deal with God in small daily matters, not only in crises.
- Result. Jacob reaped what he had sown. Yet God used the long years of service and sorrow to chasten a schemer and bring good in the end.
And Laban said, It is not so done in our place, to give the younger before the firstborn.
Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and Laban gave him Leah instead. Laban's excuse is the custom of his country — and it lands on the man who had himself pushed past a firstborn's rights.
The excuse arrives seven years too late to be honest:
Jacob confronted Laban about his deception in giving him Leah instead of Rachel. Laban calmly replied that in his country the younger daughter must not marry before the elder. Honesty should have told Jacob this seven years earlier, when they made the agreement! It may be that Laban invented this policy in his own mind and then treated it as his country's custom. For if it really had been the usual practice, Jacob would have heard of it long before seven years had passed. But Laban knew the best way to keep Jacob working for him: he told Jacob he could work another seven years for Rachel.
Jacob had once deceived his own father. Now the same trick falls on him, and the fit is too exact to be an accident:
Genesis 29, 30 and 31 record Jacob's stay in Haran. It turned into a duel of cunning between Jacob and his uncle Laban. Under the government of God, Jacob found himself in the hands of a man even more selfish than himself. There was a remarkable fitness in God's discipline over his marriage. Laban deceived him about two daughters, just as two sons had deceived Isaac. Age blinded Isaac; the marriage customs of the east blinded Jacob.
The lesson fits the sin:
His uncle's deception might well have reminded Jacob that he had once deceived a relative himself — his own father. Such things have a way of coming back, under the governing hand of God. It is a striking fact that people who take on the character of deceivers very likely end up deceived themselves. Here Jacob also learned a firstborn's rights the painful way — rights he had ignored with his brother Esau.
Taken as a principle, Laban's rule is the opposite of the way God works:
Jacob comes into Padan-Aram. Many of us have lived there, morally. It is where Laban's house is. There speculation and trying to get on without God are everywhere. There Jacob uses his own skill and wits to get ahead, breathing all the while an air that lowers the glory of Christ. No sense of the pre-eminence of Jesus is tolerated. God sets out the principle, "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Heb. 10:9). Laban says, "It is not so done in our country, to give the younger before the firstborn." It is a serious thing to live, in our affections, in a scene that will not put the second before the first!
One writer sums up Jacob's time in that country as a life "where the first was put before the second, and the result was sorrow and disappointment" (F. A. Hughes).
Laban's rule and God's rule cannot both stand, and Scripture shows which one God keeps:
When did God ever choose the firstborn of flesh? All through Scripture He sets aside the one who looks to have a claim by birth. In this way everyone learns that blessing comes entirely by grace. Not Cain, but Abel; not Ishmael, but Isaac; not Esau, but Jacob.
Laban was not the only guilty party. Yet God folded the whole wrong into His dealings with a man who needed to feel in himself what deceit costs:
Here too we see the righteous government of Jehovah. Laban badly wronged Jacob in a matter that must touch a man's heart deeply. Leah, beyond doubt, went along with the broken marriage agreement over Rachel. She could and should have told Jacob the shabby trick her father was playing through her. But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn more deeply, in his own wounded affections, how vile self-seeking deceit is. So He allowed what He would use for correction and for good in the end.
- The excuse — Laban pleads local custom only after the wedding. A real rule would have reached Jacob seven years earlier.
- The mirror — a man who deceived a father over two sons now meets a father who deceives him over two daughters. Deceivers get deceived.
- The bill — Jacob had ignored Esau's rights as firstborn. He learns those rights the hard way, at the cost of seven more years.
- The clash — Laban's country will not put the second before the first. God's way is to set the first aside and establish the second.
- The point — all through Scripture God passes over the firstborn. Blessing comes by grace, not by birth.
Fulfil the week [with] this one then we will give thee the other one also, for the service that thou shalt serve me yet seven other years.
Jacob had served seven years for Rachel and woke to find Leah beside him. Laban does not apologise. He offers a new deal: finish the wedding week with Leah, then work seven more years for the woman he wanted.
Laban answers with local custom. One writer doubts the custom was real at all.
When Jacob confronted Laban about giving him Leah instead of Rachel, Laban calmly answered that in his country the younger daughter must not marry before the elder. An honest man would at least have told Jacob this when they made the agreement seven years earlier! Perhaps Laban invented this rule himself and treated it as his country's custom! If it really were the usual custom, Jacob would have heard of it long before the seven years were up. But Laban knew that this was the best way to keep Jacob working for him. So he told Jacob he could work another seven years for Rachel. What could Jacob do? His heart was still set on Rachel, so he accepted this unfair treatment, and in the end got her as a wife too.
Laban defends himself by the rights of the elder over the younger — the very order Jacob had overturned at home.
However, the deception of his uncle might well have reminded Jacob that he himself had before deceived a relative, his own father. Such things have a way of recoiling, under the governing hand of God. It is striking that people who take on the character of deceivers are very likely to be deceived themselves (2 Tim. 3:13). Here too Jacob learned the hard way the rights of a firstborn, which he had ignored in the case of his brother Esau.
Behind Laban's greed another hand is at work. Its aim is not punishment but self-judgment.
Here Jehovah was dealing with Jacob so that he would judge himself. Jacob had to learn from his own experience how hateful it is to give in to deceit. That was true even when the aim was to gain the birthright or the blessing over a godless brother, who cared only for himself and never had God as a living object before his soul. God makes such experience profitable to a weak or careless soul. In this way a person gets used to dealing with God in the small things of life, as people count them, as well as in the greatest.
Seven more years of service do not mean God has dropped His promise to bless.
There are two things Jacob has to learn here. First, for his consolation, he will learn that all his failures will not alter God's purpose to bless him in sovereign grace. Second, for his correction, he will learn that God's sovereign grace will not hold back God's chastening hand because of his failures. The sovereign grace of the Lord will not set aside the faithful government of the Lord. Jacob's circumstances do not change. He still has to go his lonely way as a wanderer. He still has to spend long years of hard work and bondage in a stranger's house, because of his sin against his father and brother. He has to reap what he has sown.
One writer sees in this delay a picture of something much larger.
Jacob loved Rachel first, yet he had to wait for her and serve the week over again after Leah was given to him. Surely this has a clear bearing on the Lord's relation to Israel, whom He loved first. In the meantime the Gentile, once passed over, has taken her place, with rich results in His grace.
Commentators differ on how far to press the two women. Some see in Leah a picture of those who share the toil before they share the glory.
Jacob went for Leah and secured her at the cost of rigorous service, and she first shared with him the days of toil before having part with him in the wealth and glory which he acquired.
Commentators differ on how far to press the two sisters. Another writer draws a closer lesson from the meaning of their names.
Rachel (meaning "sheep") pictures the lovely state of soul, in humble submission to God, that believers would like to reach. She was the desire of Jacob's heart. But in struggling to get Rachel, he only got Leah, whose name means "wearied." For Leah is a picture of what I really am, not what I want to be. … I may try hard to make myself different, only to find myself "stuck" with what I really am, as Jacob was "stuck" with Leah! This is the struggle of Romans 7, where "I" fights against "I."
- Deceit — Laban's rule about the elder daughter appears only after seven years of unpaid work. He knew this was the surest way to keep Jacob working.
- Debt — Jacob once pushed past a firstborn's rights with Esau. Now he is held to those same rights himself.
- Discipline — God's aim is self-judgment. Jacob learns from experience how hateful deceit is, and learns to deal with God in small matters as well as large.
- Grace — Failure never changes God's purpose to bless. Grace also never holds back His chastening hand: God disciplines Jacob and still keeps him.
- Picture — Jacob waited for the bride he loved first and received another meanwhile. Writers see here the Lord's dealings with Israel, and a mirror of the heart's own struggle.
And Jacob did so, and fulfilled the week [with] this one, and he gave him Rachel his daughter to be his wife.
Genesis 29:28 closes a bitter week for Jacob: he keeps Laban's terms and finally receives Rachel, after seven years of work. Two questions press hard here — what did Jacob agree to, and why did God let a schemer be out-schemed?
The "week" Jacob completed is a week of days, not another seven years. One writer settles the word from how Hebrew uses it elsewhere.
I believe we can say that shebu-a and shebu-im are used for week and weeks. Genesis 29:27-28 gives the word for a week, and Leviticus 12:5 gives it for weeks.
Rachel came at the end of that week. The price came after her, not before.
He reaps in a measure what he had sown. He deceived his father Isaac and now Laban deceives him in different ways, especially by substituting Leah for the beloved Rachel. A week after he received Leah, he received Rachel too. But though he now had her, he still had to serve seven years for her.
Laban's defence was simple: the younger daughter is not given before the firstborn. But it came seven years too late to be honest.
Honesty would at least have told Jacob this seven years earlier, when they made the agreement! Laban may have invented this rule in his own mind and then treated it as his country's custom! If it had really been the usual custom, Jacob would have heard of it long before the seven years were up. But Laban knew that the best way to get Jacob to continue working for him was to do exactly what he did. So he told Jacob he could work another seven years for Rachel. What could Jacob do? He still had his heart set on Rachel, so he simply submitted to this unjust treatment, and in the end got her as a wife too.
The man who deceived his own father now wakes to a substituted bride. Writers see God's governing hand behind Laban's greed.
Such things have a way of coming back on us, under the governing hand of God. It is a striking fact that those who make themselves deceivers will very likely be deceived themselves (2 Timothy 3:13). Here too Jacob learned the hard way about the rights of a firstborn — rights he had ignored with his brother Esau.
This discipline does not cancel God's choice of Jacob. It runs alongside it, and every child of God knows it.
Grace is sovereign, and it calls even the most wayward. But those it calls come under a moral government that takes notice of every fault, so that they may share in His holiness.
Both men treated Rachel as goods to be traded. One writer sets that against the very first marriage.
Rachel did not belong to Laban, and both Jacob and Laban were completely wrong to put a money value on a wife. When the Lord made a woman for Adam, He gave her to him as a gift of grace. Grace should always rule in the sacred relationship of marriage.
Commentators also read the two wives as a picture of two peoples.
I have no doubt that in the two wives we have the Gentiles and Israel: Rachel loved first on the earth, but not yet gained; and Leah the fruitful mother of children. Rachel had children also afterwards on the earth.
A second writer traces what that cost means for the church.
Leah was bride to one who foreshadowed Christ as a sufferer — one who was worn out by tireless toil, and who worked while others slept. Jacob went for Leah and won her at the cost of hard service, and she first shared with him the days of toil before having part with him in the wealth and glory which he acquired… like Leah, the church is called to share a path of toil and suffering before having her eternal portion with Christ.
Commentators differ over the figures. One writer ties Rachel to the Gentiles and Leah to Israel; another sees the church in Leah.
- Bargain. Jacob bought his bride with labour instead of receiving her by grace. Both he and Laban were wrong to put a price on a woman at all.
- Week. The week here is seven days — Leah's marriage week. Rachel came at the end of it, and Jacob served the second seven years afterwards.
- Boomerang. Laban invented his excuse about the firstborn. God still used it: the deceiver was deceived, and the man who had ignored a firstborn's rights learned them the hard way.
- Government. Grace called Jacob freely. God's moral government still noted every fault, so that His children would share His holiness.
- Picture. Behind the bargain stands a better Servant. One bride is loved but not yet gained; the other is received first and is fruitful; the service goes on until He has both.
And Laban gave to Rachel his daughter, Bilhah, his maidservant, to be her maidservant.
Genesis 29:29 reads like a small note of business: Laban hands a servant, Bilhah, to Rachel, just as he had handed Zilpah to Leah. Yet these two servants become mothers of four tribes of Israel, and this arrangement sets up years of rivalry inside Jacob's tent.
The verse closes a story where the trickster gets tricked. Jacob had deceived his father and his brother; now Laban deceives him.
Verses 23-30 tell how Laban deceived him at the end of the seven years, and Laban had a plausible excuse for acting as he did. We cannot fail to see here the government of God at work. It illustrates our Lord's words: "with the measure you use it will be measured to you." Now it was Jacob's turn to complain of being tricked.
God had a purpose in it for Jacob's own heart.
Here it was Jehovah dealing with Jacob so that he might judge himself. Jacob had to learn from his own experience how hateful it is to yield to deceit. That stayed true even if the aim was to gain the birthright or the blessing over a profane brother — a brother who cared only for himself and never had God as a living object before his soul. Such experience does good to a weak or careless soul. In this way a person gets used to dealing with God in the little things of life, as men count them, as well as in the greatest.
Laban gives Bilhah to Rachel as her servant. Rachel later gives her to Jacob to gain children — a move one writer traces back to an earlier failure in the family.
Then we too often fall back on a substitute of our own making, as Rachel did. Sarah had done the same when she gave Abraham her servant to have a child by her. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned. But she thought, as Sarah did, that the children of her servant Bilhah would be hers... All of this struggle is a picture of the struggle in Romans 7. That struggle only stirs up the evil passions of our hearts, instead of subduing them as we try to do.
The names Rachel gave Bilhah's sons record what was in her. They are not the last word.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction in gaining points of strife on her own part... But it is God's prerogative, while every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Himself, to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
So what became of the four tribes born to the two servants?
Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, who were named by Leah and Rachel. The servant women did not name their own sons. The four tribes that came from them do not appear to have made any particular mark in the nation's later history.
That obscurity is not the end. When God seals the tribes of Israel, the sons of the servants are not left out.
Here the sons are arranged by their different mothers, with the children of the servant women mixed in among the children of the free... They are no longer listed simply in the natural order of birth. God seems to signal that He would make them a spiritual people too, stamped with His seal. They will then be Israelites indeed, in whom is no deceit.
One writer reads the two sisters as a picture of two peoples.
I have no doubt that in the two wives we have the Gentiles and Israel: Rachel loved first on the earth, but not yet obtained; and Leah the fruitful mother of children. Rachel had children later on the earth too. Rachel stands for the Jews. She is the mother of Joseph, and later of Benjamin. Joseph pictures a suffering Christ, glorified among the Gentiles while rejected by Israel; Benjamin pictures a reigning Christ, the son of his mother's sorrow but of his father's right hand.
- Measure. Jacob deceived others, then Laban deceived him. God's government handed him back his own method.
- Discipline. God's aim was that Jacob would judge himself and learn from experience how hateful deceit is.
- Substitution. Rachel turned Bilhah into a man-made shortcut to children. She repeated Sarah's mistake, and it bred strife.
- Record. The names Rachel gave those sons preserve her rivalry. Yet God works all things together for good to those who love Him.
- Reach. The servants' sons made little mark in Israel's history. In the end they stand sealed among the children of the free.
And he went in also to Rachel; and he loved also Rachel more than Leah. And he served with him yet seven other years.
Jacob at last has the wife he wanted — but only after Laban handed him the one he did not, at the price of seven more years' work. The verse names his preference openly, and that unequal love shapes the family that follows.
Jacob arrived at Laban's house empty-handed. His own father, Isaac, came by a bride in a very different way:
Think of the contrast with Isaac the heir, the son who stayed in his father's house. His father sent the honoured servant Eliezer to represent them both, with fitting equipment and costly gifts for the bride. Here the outcast wanderer has nothing to recommend him but his relationship and his service. And Laban was quick to see the value of such a capable man for the interests he cared about most.
The second seven years were not in the original bargain. A trick forced them on Jacob, and commentators see God's own government behind that trick:
Verses 23-30 tell how Laban deceived him at the end of the seven years. Laban had a plausible excuse for what he did. In this we cannot fail to see the government of God at work. It illustrates our Lord's words, "with the measure you use it will be measured to you." Now it was Jacob's turn to complain that someone had tricked him.
Jacob paid for Rachel with years of hard labour. Here, and here alone, one writer sees him picturing Christ:
And only after years of toil could Jacob claim her as his own. By day the heat consumed him, and the cold by night, and his sleep fled from his eyes. But love lightened the burdens and sweetened all the bitterness of those long years. This is the only part of his life in which Jacob seems to picture our Lord, "who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame." His toil ended, and He "is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."
Getting Rachel did not settle the household. It began a rivalry, and the law would later forbid such a marriage outright:
Next Laban forces Leah on Jacob by deceit, and Jacob has to add Rachel as well — the one he loved and had bargained for. But here again strife and division follow, and the sisters' rivalry increases the misery of it, with two concubines added. Marrying two sisters at the same time, coming where it does in the story, might have become a trap for Israel. That is why the law later singles it out (Leviticus 18:18) and forbids it.
Loving one wife more meant the other counted as "hated" — loved less by comparison. Leah was not innocent; she went along with her father's scheme. Yet God gave her what the favoured wife did not have:
The righteous government of Jehovah is clearly seen here also. Laban wronged Jacob badly, in a way that must wound a man deeply. And Leah was beyond doubt a willing party to the cheating breach of the marriage agreement about Rachel. She might and ought to have told Jacob the unworthy trick her father was playing through her.
He looked on the sorrowful and despised wife. He gave the comfort of a son to Leah, the one "hated" by comparison, and not to Rachel. Rachel was happy in her husband's love, yet she stayed barren! ... But Jacob was slow to forget the wrong done to him about Rachel, or to feel his own wrong to Leah.
Some writers read the whole arrangement as a picture of Christ's dealings with Israel and the nations — the first-loved bride delayed, another brought in during the waiting:
Jacob loved Rachel first. Yet he still had to wait and serve another seven years for her after Laban gave him Leah. Surely this bears on the Lord's relation to Israel, loved first, while in the meantime the slighted Gentile has taken her place, with rich results in His grace.
The one who was not the first choice is not the one left out:
He gets Leah instead of Rachel. He has the Gentiles, seen in their place on earth; still the Jews are loved — Rachel. He represents the Lord in His ways, not in his conduct: he loves Rachel. The Gentile, Leah, was never loved like the Jews on earth; but God blesses Leah.
- Sowing — Jacob had deceived his father. Laban's trick measured the same back to him and cost him seven more years.
- Serving — He came with nothing to offer but family ties and hard work. Love made the long service feel light.
- Strife — Two sisters in one house brought rivalry and misery, and the law later forbade such a marriage.
- Seen — God looked on the wife who was loved less. He gave her a son, while the favoured wife stayed barren.
- Shadow — Writers see Christ waiting for Israel, the first-loved, while God brings in and blesses another.
And when Jehovah saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb; but Rachel was barren.
Jacob's household holds two sisters, one loved and one passed over. The first move recorded is not Jacob's but God's, and the whole later history of this family flows from it.
Leah was "hated" in comparison with her sister — loved less, not loathed. Commentators also point to the name used for God here: not the general word for God, but the covenant name.
Notice that it is not Elohim here, but Jehovah, God in special relationship and moral dealing. He looked on the sorrowful and despised wife, and gave not to Rachel but to Leah, the comparatively "hated," the consolation of a son. Rachel, happy in her husband's love, was left barren!
Leah was not only a victim here. She had a part in the trick that put her in Jacob's tent. God let the tangle stand because He meant to teach Jacob something through it.
Laban badly wronged Jacob in a way that must touch a man's heart deeply. And Leah was without doubt a willing party to the cheating breach of the marriage agreement about Rachel. She might and ought to have told Jacob the shabby trick her father was playing through her. But God wanted His servant Jacob to learn more deeply, in his own wounded affections, how vile self-seeking deceit is. So He allowed what He would use for discipline and for good in the end.
The children arrive on the opposite side from Jacob's love. Commentators read that reversal as God's hand correcting him, and one adds a telling detail about the naming of the sons.
There was also discipline from the hand of God. Jacob's love was centred on Rachel, and next to her Leah was hated. So God arranged that Leah bore children while Rachel stayed barren... It is worth noting that in each case the mother gave the name, and it fitted her own circumstances and feelings. Jacob does not appear as having any say in the matter. During this stretch of his up-and-down life we read of no altar of sacrifice and communion.
The four names Leah gives trace a rising line in her own soul, and the last one carries far beyond her.
Again she has a son, and says, Because Jehovah has heard that I am hated, He has therefore given me this one also... And again she bore a son, and said, Now this time I will praise Jehovah; so she called his name Judah. Never do we hear of her soul rising so high. The sorrow-stricken woman breaks out into praise of Jehovah. Her fourth son carries that praise in the name she gave him that day. Yes, of Judah came, according to the flesh, the Christ, who is over all, God blessed for ever. Amen. How much His grace rises above our praise!
Another writer finds a message in the order of the four names.
The names of the sons of Leah are interesting. Reuben (behold a son!); Simeon (hearing); Levi (joined); Judah (praise). It is the order of the gospel.
Commentators also see a wider pattern here. It reaches past Jacob's tent to God's dealings with Israel and with the other nations.
Rachel represents Israel, the Messiah's first object of love on earth. But this fails through no fault of His. And He has Leah. She stands for the call of the Gentiles in between, during Jacob's time as a servant and his great sorrows. That is when "the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married," says the LORD (Isaiah 54:1, compare Galatians 4).
Even so, this picture does not leave Leah small.
For all that, she is the most fruitful. Her honour is in the births of Judah and Levi — the Ruler and the Teacher, King and Priest.
The two wives also picture something a believer can see in himself.
Leah is a picture of what I actually am, and Leah was hated. Rachel is a picture of what I would like to be — the spiritual state I would like to reach. As a Christian I would like to be far more spiritual than I am... but I have to give that up. Jacob had to give Rachel up. However, at the very moment Jacob gave Rachel up, he arrived at the state God had in mind for him.
- Seen. God's first move is to look at the one no one else valued — and He acts under His covenant name, not a distant title.
- Given. Jacob held his love back from Leah. God gave her children instead — the blessing landed where the love did not.
- Disciplined. Laban cheated Jacob in return, and God used that wound in Jacob's own affections to teach him how vile deceit is.
- Named. Leah's four sons climb from behold a son to praise — a rising line she alone marked, since Jacob had no altar and no say.
- Reaching Christ. Her praise named Judah, and from Judah came the Christ — the unloved wife's line carried the promise.
And Leah conceived, and bore a son, and called his name Reuben; for she said, Because Jehovah has looked upon my affliction; for now my husband will love me.
Jacob's home is already divided. He worked for Rachel and only got Leah, and the wife he did not choose bears the first son. At the birth Leah speaks past her husband to God, and the name she gives the boy — Reuben, "behold, a son" — holds her whole situation in one word.
One commentator points to the divine name used here. It is not Elohim, the general word for God, but the covenant name — "Jehovah" in older translations, "the LORD" in the ESV:
Notice that it is not Elohim here, but Jehovah, God in special relationship and moral dealing. He looked on the sad and despised wife. He gave the comfort of a son not to Rachel but to Leah, the one "hated" by comparison. Rachel, happy in her husband's love, stayed barren!
Look at who mentions God in this whole scene. One writer sums it up in a line:
Sorrowful and wronged Leah alone speaks of Jehovah.
Leah joins two things: God has looked on her, so now her husband will love her. The first was true. The second was her own conclusion. The same writer weighs how much of Jacob's heart she was counting on:
We can see how large the firstborn loomed in the mother's eyes, and how much she counted on the boy's appeal to Jacob's heart. But Jacob was slow to forget the wrong done to him about Rachel, or to feel his own wrong to Leah. Jehovah looked tenderly on her injured spirit. And she, for her part, acknowledged Jehovah's compassion in the matter. "Jehovah," she said, "has looked upon my affliction; for now my husband will love me." That hope came too soon: so far we hear not a sound of such love from him.
Reuben is the first of four sons Leah names. One writer lines up what all four names mean:
The names of Leah's sons are interesting. Reuben (behold a Son!); Simeon (hearing); Levi (joined); Judah (praise). It is the order of the gospel.
Leah names the child, not Jacob. One writer ties that to God's discipline and to Jacob's own walk in these years:
There was also discipline from the hand of God… Notice that in each case the mother gave the name, and it grew out of her own circumstances and feelings. Jacob does not appear to have had any say in the matter. In this stretch of his up-and-down life there is no record of an altar of sacrifice and communion. Being out of touch, he had no guidance about the names of his children.
Commentators draw more than one lesson from Leah. One reads the two wives as a picture of God's dealings with Israel and the other nations:
Jacob loved Rachel first. Yet he still had to wait and serve another week for her, after Leah had been given to him. This bears on the Lord's relation to Israel, whom He loved first. Meanwhile the slighted Gentile has taken Israel's place, with rich results in His grace… Leah was hated compared with Rachel. So Jehovah stepped in with His special regard for her sorrow, and that regard came out in the name of her firstborn son, Reuben.
Another writer turns the two wives inward, to the believer's own experience:
Rachel means "sheep." She pictures the lovely state of soul, in humble submission to God, that believers would like to reach. She was the desire of Jacob's heart. But in struggling to get Rachel, Jacob only got Leah, whose name means "wearied." Leah is a picture of what I really am, not what I want to be. There was conflict between the two. I may try hard to make myself different, only to find myself "stuck" with what I really am, just as Jacob was "stuck" with Leah!
- Seen — the covenant God looked on the wife nobody wanted, and the loved wife stayed barren.
- Spoken — in a chapter of scheming and rivalry, the wronged woman is the only one who names the Lord out loud.
- Named — Reuben means "behold, a son," and stands first in a sequence that runs on to hearing, joining and praise.
- Premature — God's compassion was real. Leah's hope that Jacob would now love her was her own, and no word of love from him follows.
- Silent altar — Jacob built no altar in these years and had no guidance about his children's names. So each name carries the mother's own feelings.
And she again conceived, and bore a son, and said, Because Jehovah has heard that I am hated, he has therefore given me this one also; and she called his name Simeon.
Leah names her second son out of the one thing she is sure of: God noticed. Her husband is still cold, but she reads her life by what the LORD has done, and Simeon's name keeps the record.
The word describes how Leah stood next to her sister, not a settled cruelty in Jacob. One writer reads the whole scene as God's discipline on Jacob, and notes who chooses the names:
There was discipline from the hand of God. Jacob's love rested on Rachel, and next to her Leah was hated. So God arranged that Leah bore children while Rachel was barren. The closing verses of the chapter give us the birth of four sons and their names. It is worth noticing that in every case the mother gave the name, and it grew out of her own circumstances and feelings. Jacob does not appear to have had any say in the matter. During these years of his uneven life we read of no altar where he sacrificed and had fellowship with God. Being out of touch, he had no guidance about the names of his children.
Reuben's name said the LORD had seen her. Simeon's adds a second sense: He heard her too.
The even stronger sign of her husband's coldness does not weaken her sense of the favour Jehovah was showing her — it renews it. As with Reuben, so now the naming of her second son says it: Jehovah heard as well as saw. We do not learn of any softening on the offended man's part: he had his Rachel.
Later, Israel divided the land and gave Simeon's tribe a portion inside Judah's. One writer draws a lesson from that pairing:
Simeon's inheritance is closely connected with that of Judah. "Their inheritance was in the midst of the inheritance of the people of Judah." Simeon means "hearing" and Judah means "praise." So the two are linked together. If our hearts are open to hear, and our faith takes hold, then we praise and worship. Then we enjoy our God-given inheritance in the Lord Jesus Christ.
The same writer sets Simeon's name beside his brothers' and offers the pattern for readers to weigh:
Reuben ("behold a son!"); Simeon ("hearing"); Levi ("joined"); Judah ("praise"). This is the order of the sons of Jacob by birth. It tells out the gospel. In the blessing of Moses the order is: Reuben ("behold a son!"); Judah ("praise"); Levi ("joined"). Simeon ("hearing") is left out. When the Lord comes, Israel will behold Him as the Son, will break out in praise and worship, and become joined to Him. No "hearing" is needed then. We pass this on to our readers for consideration.
Kelly traces the same four names as a rising line in Leah's own soul, ending at the highest point she ever reaches:
And again she bore a son, and said, Now this time I will praise Jehovah; therefore she called his name Judah. Never do we hear of her soul rising so high; the sorrow-stricken woman breaks out into praise of Jehovah... Yes, of Judah came according to the flesh the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever.
Jacob's love and God's gifts run in opposite directions. One writer turns the picture inward, to the unwanted "I" in a believer's own experience, and notes what Jacob never did:
It was Leah who bore children, while Rachel stayed fruitless for a long time. So it is the hated "I" that seems to dominate in the experience of a believer who really wants to be what he thinks he should be. Leah bore four sons, Reuben, Simeon, Levi and Judah, while Rachel remained childless. It is good to consider that despite Jacob's dislike for Leah, he never suggested putting his wife away, as people commonly do today. In fact he kept her longer than Rachel.
Kelly also reads the two sisters on a larger scale — an illustration, not a plain statement:
Rachel represents Israel, Messiah's first object of love on earth. But this fails through no fault of His. And He has Leah. She represents the calling of the Gentiles in the meantime, during Jacob's servant state and heavy sorrows. It is the time when "the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married," says the LORD.
- Heard. Reuben confessed that God saw; Simeon confesses that He also heard. The second son marks a second proof that heaven is paying attention.
- Hated. The word measures Leah against Rachel. God answers the comparison by making the less-loved wife the fruitful one.
- Named. Every name comes from the mother out of her own feelings; Jacob, with no altar in these years, has no say and no guidance.
- Order. Behold a son, hearing, joined, praise. One writer sees the four names in birth order telling out the gospel.
- Praise. Simeon's tribe later settled inside Judah's land — hearing inside praise. Hear God, and praise and the enjoyment of your inheritance in Christ follow.
And she again conceived, and bore a son, and said, Now this time will my husband be united to me, for I have borne him three sons; therefore was his name called Levi.
Leah has borne Jacob two sons, and she still hopes her husband will be attached to her. She names the third son Levi — "joined" — and that one word will shape the whole story of his tribe.
With her first two sons she named God. With Levi she does not, and one writer weighs the difference.
Therefore his name was called Levi. It is not as before that she called it. Everything seems more vague and in a lower key here; and Jehovah is not named. But He never fails; and again she bore a son, and said, Now this time I will praise Jehovah; therefore she called his name Judah. Never do we hear of her soul rising so high; the sorrow-stricken woman breaks out into praise of Jehovah.
"Levi" means joined. Leah used the word of a marriage; her son's life joined him to two very different things.
Here, then, we have the birth and name of this most remarkable man. His name carries wonderful meaning when we look at his later history. In nature's wild and lawless excess, we find him "joined" with his brother in carrying out a deed of blood and murder (Gen. 34). Then came the day when God called him to drink deeply and largely of the cup of His electing grace, "joined" with Aaron in "the work of the tabernacle" (Num. 8).
The record of Levi himself is short and dark, and Jacob's blessing did not soften it. Yet his tribe ended up serving at the sanctuary.
The third son of Jacob and Leah (Gen. 29:34). Very little is recorded of Levi. He joined with Simeon in the treacherous and vengeful dealings with Shechem (Gen. 34:25-31). When Jacob blessed his sons, he pronounced a curse on their cruelty, and added, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." This shows the righteous government of God. That government is in no way set aside by the reward of their later faithful conduct, which caused this tribe to be chosen for the Levitical service and the priesthood. It was sovereign grace.
One writer traces that change back to the cross.
Christ has, once for all, borne sin's deepest curse in His own body on the tree. Now even Levi can lift up his head. By nature he knows only "instruments of cruelty" — things that must have kept God forever at a distance from "his secret and his assembly." By nature he is cruel, fierce, self-willed, scattered and divided. Yet God can, in His mercy, make him familiar with "the instruments of the tabernacle." He can bring him into the enjoyment of the covenant of life and peace, in union with the great head of the priestly family.
Two things about Levi point beyond him: his place as third son, and his name.
From Levi, third son of Israel, sprang both the Levite and the priest. This "third" speaks of resurrection, always connected with the third day (compare Hosea 6:2). And so the sign of the true priest (Num. 17:8) was the dead rod blossoming and fruitful in the sanctuary. Levi's own name also, "joined," is full of meaning. The Mediator, in whose person and work God and man are truly joined, is the One who becomes the Priest.
Leah's first four sons, taken in order, spell out a message.
Interesting are the names of the sons of Leah. Reuben (behold a Son!); Simeon (hearing); Levi (joined); Judah (praise). It is the order of the gospel.
The same word now describes believers, and it brings work with it.
Levi means "joined." The grace of God had joined them to the Lord and His ministry. Believers in Christ are joined to the Lord. They are both priests and Levites; they have priesthood and ministry. Our priesthood is the ministry of the sanctuary, in worship and intercession. Our Levite ministry is many sided.
- Joined — wanted. Leah names her third son while still hoping for her husband's attachment. This naming is vaguer than the first two, and God is not named in it.
- Joined — wrongly. Levi's first joining is with Simeon at Shechem — cruelty that Jacob curses: "I will divide them in Jacob."
- Joined — by grace. God's government still stands. Yet sovereign grace takes the man of "instruments of cruelty" and hands him "the instruments of the tabernacle."
- Joined — in Christ. The name pictures the Mediator. In His person and work God and man are truly joined, and He becomes the Priest.
- Joined — now. Believers are joined to the Lord and to His ministry: priests in worship and prayer, Levites in a service with many sides.
And she again conceived, and bore a son, and said, This time will I praise Jehovah; therefore she called his name Judah. And she ceased to bear.
Leah is the wife Jacob did not choose. Her earlier sons carry names shaped by that pain, but with the fourth she looks past her marriage to God, and calls him Judah — "praise." (Where the ESV has "the LORD," older translations print God's name as "Jehovah." That is why the quotes below use it.)
The chapter turns on God's notice of the unloved wife. One writer points out which name of God stands here, and who received the sons:
It is not Elohim here, but Jehovah, God in special relationship and moral dealing. He looked on the sorrowful and despised wife, and gave not to Rachel but to Leah, the one who was "hated" by comparison, the comfort of a son. Rachel, happy in her husband's love, was left barren! We can notice how the firstborn loomed large in the mother's eyes, and how much she counted on it to call to Jacob's heart. But Jacob was slow to forget the wrong done to him about Rachel, or to feel his own wrong to Leah.
Leah names each of the four sons, and her own feelings supply the meaning every time. One writer links Jacob's silence to his spiritual state in these years:
Note that in each case the mother gave the name, and it grew out of her own circumstances and feelings. Jacob does not appear to have had any say in the matter. During this up-and-down stretch of his life there is no record that he had an altar for sacrifice and communion. Being out of touch, he had no guidance about the names of his children.
Her third son's name still reaches for Jacob. The fourth reaches past him, and one writer follows the change:
And again she bore him a third son, and said, Now this time my husband will be joined to me; for I have borne him three sons. So his name was called Levi. Everything seems more vague and in a lower key here, and Jehovah is not named. But He never fails; and again she bore a son, and said, Now this time I will praise Jehovah; therefore she called his name Judah. Never do we hear of her soul rising so high; the sorrow-stricken woman breaks out into praise of Jehovah, and her fourth son carries it in the name she gave him that day. Yes, of Judah came, according to the flesh, the Christ, who is over all, God blessed for ever. Amen. How much His grace rises above our praise!
One writer reads the four names, in their birth order, as a picture of the gospel:
Reuben (behold a son!); Simeon (hearing); Levi (joined); Judah (praise). This is the order of the sons of Jacob according to their birth. It tells out the gospel. In the blessing of Moses the order is: Reuben (behold a son!); Judah (praise); Levi (joined). Simeon (hearing) is left out. When the Lord comes, Israel will behold Him as the Son, will break out in praise and worship, and become joined to Him. No "hearing" is needed then.
Leah gave the name for her own praise. Later it marks a whole tribe, and a lion at the close of the Bible:
Judah is compared to a lion, as a king among beasts. Here we see an allusion to Christ acting in judgment. Genesis is the seed-plot of the Bible. We pass to Revelation, where everything reaches its fruit and finality, and in Revelation 5 we find "the Lion of the tribe of Judah" about to take the book of judgment and break its seals. And the universe is filled with His praises.
Leah's praise over one baby was small next to the praise another birth would draw out:
How much more fitting were the praises that greeted the coming and birth of Mary's child! Praises from Mary, praises from Elizabeth, praises from Zechariah, praises from the heavenly host, praises from the aged Simeon and from Anna... Very soon there will be a universe of bliss, filled with the praises of God and the Lamb, all resulting from the coming into the world of Mary's child, the blessed Son of God. While we await our part in the praises of that happy day, it is our privilege to "offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually."
- Seen — The LORD looked on the wife nobody wanted, and gave children to Leah while the loved wife stayed barren.
- Silent — Jacob names none of these sons. With no altar and no communion, he has no guidance, so Leah's feelings name them all.
- Risen — Her earlier names still reach for her husband. With the fourth she stops asking and praises God. Her soul is never higher.
- Gospel — Behold a son, hearing, joined, praise. One writer reads that birth order as the gospel told in four names.
- Fulfilled — Christ came from Judah. The Lion of that tribe opens the sealed book, and the universe fills with praise that Leah first spoke alone.
And when Rachel saw that she bore Jacob no children, Rachel envied her sister, and said to Jacob, Give me children, or else I die.
Rachel had Jacob's love but no children, and her sister's family kept growing. Her demand to Jacob opens a chapter of family rivalry and raises a hard question: what does a believer do when God holds back the one thing the heart wants most?
The verse names Rachel's envy before it reports her words. One writer traces what that envy did to her.
It is easy to see, and sad to see, why Rachel looked at her own childlessness and her sister's many children with bitterness. Self was at work. It blinded her to one thing: her sister did not have Jacob's heart, and she alone held it. It was envy — that low feeling which cannot bear another person, even a sister, having what it lacks. And it broke out in unreasonable and irreverent complaining to her husband, as if her barrenness were his fault.
Her words are passionate, but God is nowhere in them. One writer weighs that silence against how her story ended.
Her passionate cry for children shows no recognition at all of the will of God (Gen. 30:1). It does not compare well with Hannah's submissive spirit and humble prayer to the Lord. And it prepares us for the despair that overwhelmed her later. The thing she dreamed would be a spring of happiness turned out to be a bitter and deadly drink of sorrow.
One writer fills in the picture of Hannah.
How different Hannah was! She was sorrowful under Peninnah's taunts, and under the high priest's wrong judgment of her too. She did not break out into unfitting complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
Readers may wonder why a squabble between two sisters is in the Bible at all. One writer answers that Scripture shows people as they really are.
Revelation about God, and from God, is the essential difference between Scripture and all other writings. Yet there is much more in it of the greatest value. We have man as he is, as nowhere else. Scripture tells us the truth so that we may know ourselves as well as God. So it matters, and it is deeply interesting, that God gives inspired light on what the proud selfishness of man's mind tends to despise as mere domestic squabbles.
Another writer sees the whole chapter as a fall from the fathers before Jacob, and watches how Rachel speaks of God.
How terribly everything has fallen, in moral terms, from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is not barrenness of the flesh with God stepping in, in promise and power. Instead — oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousy, and scheming! Only one patch of green is in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard. Even in her special circumstances Rachel has no thought of Jehovah's ways here. It is "God has judged me," and so it goes on all through, until grace softens her heart. Then she says, in faith, "Jehovah will add."
One writer turns Rachel's demand into a warning for every Christian who sees no results.
We may see a serious lesson in Rachel's words, "Give me children, or I shall die!" If we do not see clear fruit, we have a tendency to give up. The exercise of soul that desires true godliness may in effect die. Many Christians have their proper growth stunted by this very thing.
The same writer looks at Jacob's angry reply in the next verse.
On the other hand, Jacob's anger does not help the situation. If Christ is not the Object of our lives, our efforts to make ourselves more spiritual will always bring in the principles of jealousy, anger and discouragement. These work against the very result we seek.
The story does not end with the demand. One writer follows Rachel to the point where God answered her.
Rachel at last becomes a refreshment to the heart, through the thoughtful tenderness of God's ways. She was humbled for a long time because of her unworthy self-seeking. Then God was pleased to pity her and give her the son she had wanted so much. Then she said, God has taken away my reproach. Despite her proud bearing, she knew she had been under God's discipline. The name she gave her firstborn is striking, for Joseph means He will add.
- Envy blinds. Rachel could not see that she alone held Jacob's heart, because her eyes stayed on what her sister had.
- Envy misfires. Her complaint landed on her husband, as though her barrenness were his doing.
- Envy substitutes. She demanded from Jacob what Hannah asked from God, and Jacob's anger only added to the damage.
- Envy stunts. When no fruit shows, the desire for godliness can die, and many Christians stay stunted because of it.
- Grace outlasts envy. God pitied the woman who had demanded, took away her reproach, and gave her Joseph — a name meaning "He will add."
And Jacob's anger was kindled against Rachel, and he said, Am I in God's stead, who has withheld from thee the fruit of the womb?
Rachel has her husband's love, but her sister has the children. Her demand to Jacob turns a private grief into a charge against him. His sharp reply puts the question back where it belongs: God closed her womb, not her husband.
Commentators trace Rachel's outburst to the sight of what Leah had.
One understands too well, too sadly, why Rachel should look at her own childlessness and her sister's many children with bitterness. Self worked in her and blinded her to what her sister lacked: Jacob's heart, which she alone had. It was envy, that low feeling which cannot bear another person — even a sister — having what she does not have. It broke out in unreasonable and irreverent complaining to her husband, as if her barrenness were his fault. No wonder his anger resented her unworthy state in his reply: "Am I in the place of God, who has withheld from you the fruit of the womb?"
Jacob's reply was true, but his anger helped nothing.
On the other hand, Jacob's anger does not help the situation. If Christ is not the Object of our lives, our efforts to make ourselves more spiritual will always involve jealousy, anger and discouragement. These work against the very result we want.
Jacob names God as the One who closed her womb. From this verse on, the story uses a different name for God. One writer says the change is deliberate, not a sign of different authors patched together.
The name is Jehovah in Genesis 29 and Elohim in Genesis 30:2-23. Yet in the very next verse (24) Rachel says not Elohim but Jehovah, and it is the same in verses 27 and 30. The idea of different writers is pure imagination. It explains nothing, and it blocks any proper enquiry into God's own reason for the change of name. God, or Elohim, is the name that stands in contrast with man; Jehovah is His name of relationship.
That change of name matches Rachel's own heart. She speaks of God as a distant judge, until grace works in her.
Rachel here, even in her special circumstances, has no thought of Jehovah's ways. It is "Elohim has judged me," and so it goes on, until grace softens her heart. Then she says, in faith, "Jehovah will add."
Rachel's words carry more than a wife's grief. They picture a collapse familiar to any believer who sees no results.
The fruitfulness of Leah moved Rachel to jealousy, then her demand to Jacob for children moves him to anger (vv. 1-2). We may see a serious lesson in Rachel's words, "Give me children or else I die." If we do not see clear fruit, we tend to give up. The work in the soul that longs for true godliness may all but die. This very thing stunts the proper growth of many Christians.
What follows in the chapter shows the next step down. Instead of waiting, Rachel borrows a plan from Sarah, Abraham's wife — a plan that had not worked before.
Then we too often turn to a substitute of our own making, as Rachel did in verse 3. Sarah had done the same when she gave Abraham her servant to have a child by her. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned. But she thought, like Sarah, that the children of Bilhah, her servant, would be hers.
Later in the chapter Rachel stops scheming and prays. One writer marks the turn.
When we reach verse 22, we find God begins to act, and we leave behind the scheming of the two wives, though it is still Rachel who gives the name Joseph. Yet here is a son born as the fruit of God acting in answer to Rachel's prayers. The story rises to a higher level.
Kelly sets Rachel beside Hannah, another wife who had no children.
How different she was from Hannah! Peninnah's taunts made her sorrowful, and even the high priest misjudged her. Yet Hannah made no unworthy complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made vows to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
- Envy. Rachel had her husband's whole heart. Still she could not bear that Leah had children. Envy cannot stand to see another hold what it lacks.
- Blame. She aimed her complaint at Jacob, but her barrenness was never his doing. His angry reply only added a second wrong to the first.
- God's hand. Jacob's question puts the closed womb in God's hands. From this verse on, the change in the divine name follows Rachel's own distance from Him.
- Collapse. "Or else I die" is the voice of a soul that sees no fruit. It gives up, or grabs a substitute — as Rachel did with Bilhah, though Sarah's plan had not worked.
- Prayer. God acts in verse 22. Joseph comes as the fruit of Rachel's prayers. Hannah shows the same path: tears and vows to God instead of complaints against a husband.
And she said, Behold, there is my maid, Bilhah go in to her, in order that she may bear on my knees, and I may also be built up by her.
Rachel cannot have children. She hands her servant Bilhah to Jacob and asks for the child as her own. Two sons come of it — but commentators ask whether a woman may reach for God's blessing by a plan of her own, and what such a plan costs a home.
Writers set Rachel's request inside a custom of the time. Families prized children above almost everything else.
David proclaimed, "Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward." Psalm 127:3. Women in the East had a great desire for children. You can see it in Sarah, Rachel, and Leah giving their handmaids to their husbands so that they might have children by them. This always marked the women of Israel afterwards.
Rachel's plan was not new. Abraham's household had tried it, and the family knew how it ended. Kelly traces the chain: envy of her sister, unreasonable complaining to her husband, Jacob's sharp reply, then this plan.
It was envy — that base feeling which cannot bear to see another, even a sister, have what she had not. It broke out in unreasonable and irreverent complaining to her husband, as if her barrenness were his fault. No wonder his anger resented her unworthy state. He replied, "Am I in the place of God, who has withheld from you the fruit of the womb?" But he gave in to her proposal, and takes Bilhah so that she might have children by her maid. Had not honoured Sarah done the same? Yes, but through Ishmael did its fruit not end in the expulsion of both Hagar and her son? Was this encouraging?
Rachel's answer was a substitute of her own making. One writer sees the same pattern in believers today.
Then we too often resort to a humanly conceived substitution, as Rachel did in verse 3. Sarah had done the same in giving Abraham her handmaid by whom to have a child. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned. But she thought, as Sarah did, that the children of Bilhah, her handmaid, would be hers... All of this struggle is a picture of the struggle in Romans 7. We try to subdue the evil passions of our hearts, but the effort only stirs them up.
A second woman in the house did not settle the rivalry. Bellett sets Jacob's home beside Abraham's, and traces where the trouble came from and what removes it.
The house of Abraham was such a scene. There Hagar and Sarah lived together for a time, but in sad discord and strife. Again, the family of Jacob showed the same. Leah and Rachel, the two wives, lived together, but between them there was the same disturbance, reproach and envy... Unbelief brought the trouble in, and only strengthening the freewoman could remove it. So it was Sarah's unbelief that brought Hagar into the family. She could have waited in the patience of faith for the Lord's time. Then she would never have given her maid to Abraham, and Hagar and Ishmael would not have cost her fourteen years of sorrow.
Commentators say plainly that this was never God's design for marriage. Yet He did not disown the children it produced.
All this shows what God's institution of marriage was: one man and one woman, the two and only two, becoming one. What is more than this is not of God... Jacob's two wives gave their handmaids to their husband, and so he had four wives. God counted the twelve sons of these four women all alike as sons of Jacob, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. One might have thought that God would not bless the children of these unions, but He did.
The names Rachel gave Bilhah's sons say what was in her heart. Yet the story does not end there.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction in winning points of strife on her own part... Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Him. But God alone has the right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose.
- Envy starts it. Rachel could not bear that her sister had what she lacked, and blamed her husband for what God had withheld.
- The substitute follows. She borrows Sarah's plan and puts her servant in her place, forgetting how it ended for Sarah.
- Sorrow answers it. Unbelief brought a second woman into Abraham's house and into Jacob's. Both filled with discord and reproach.
- The order was known. Marriage from the start was one man and one woman; more than that is not from God.
- Grace outlasts it. God still counted all twelve sons as Jacob's and made them heads of the tribes. He works all things together for good to those who love Him.
And she gave him Bilhah her maidservant as wife, and Jacob went in to her.
Rachel, unable to have children, hands her servant Bilhah to Jacob, and Jacob agrees. It reads like a private family decision. Yet two of Israel's tribes came from it, and it raises a question: why does Scripture record such things?
These chapters read like family quarrels. One writer explains their value.
What sets Scripture apart from all other writings is that it reveals God and comes from God. But there is much more of the greatest value in it. We have man as he is, as nowhere else: the truth is told us so that we may know ourselves as well as God. That is why inspired light on these things is so interesting and important. Man's proud selfishness tends to dismiss them as mere family quarrels. To the believer they are full of healthy instruction, and they point to God's own concern and compassion... No one will boast before God. It is good and wise to learn that now, so that, as Scripture says, the one who boasts should boast in the Lord.
Jacob does not refuse. He gives in to a suggestion born of Rachel's envy — and one with an unhappy precedent already in his own family history.
It was envy — that low feeling that cannot bear another, even a sister, having what she has not. It broke out in unreasonable and irreverent complaining to her husband, as if her barrenness were his fault. No wonder his anger resented her unworthy state. He replied: "Am I in the place of God, who has withheld from you the fruit of the womb?" But he gave in to her plan, and took Bilhah so that Rachel might get children through her maid. Had not honoured Sarah done the same? Yes — but its fruit through Ishmael ended with Hagar and her son driven out. Was that encouraging?
Another childless woman in Scripture faced the same grief and a rival's taunts. She handled it differently.
How different from Hannah! She grieved under Peninnah's taunts, and even under the high priest's misjudgment. She made no improper complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
One writer sees Rachel's move as a pattern we all repeat.
Then we too often resort to a humanly devised substitution, as Rachel did in verse 3. Sarah had done the same in giving Abraham her handmaid to have a child by her. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned. But she thought, like Sarah, that the children of Bilhah, her handmaid, would be hers... All of this struggle is a picture of the struggle of Romans 7. That struggle only stirs up the evil passions of our hearts instead of subduing them, as we try to do.
The verse calls Bilhah a wife, and this left Jacob with four wives. That was never God's design — yet God did not disown the children.
All this shows that God's institution of marriage was the union of one man and one woman, the two and only two, becoming one. Anything more than this is not of God, but of human lust... Long after this, Scripture records wives who wanted children so much that they gave their maidservants to their husbands. We would now judge that as most unnatural in a wife... Jacob's two wives gave their handmaids to their husband, and so he had four wives. God counted the twelve sons of these four women equally as Jacob's own, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. It might have been thought that God would not bless the offspring of these unions, but He did.
God's patience here had an end in view.
But in old times God permitted what was far from His mind, as we see here, until He makes all things new. Jacob was not Jesus, and neither was any other man, though a man of faith.
Rachel named Bilhah's two sons, and the names carry the rivalry behind them.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not speak of grace, but of satisfaction at scoring points of strife on her own part... Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Himself. But it is God's prerogative to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn over.
- Envy starts it. Rachel could not bear her sister having what she lacked, and blamed her husband for what God had withheld.
- Substitution continues it. Handing over Bilhah was a human device to produce what only God gives. Sarah had tried it already, with painful results.
- Prayer was the road not taken. Hannah, in the same sorrow, wept, prayed and made a vow to God — and God heard her.
- God permitted what He never designed. Marriage was one man and one woman; God bore with departures from it until He makes all things new.
- Grace outlasts the mess. Dan and Naphtali record strife, not grace. Yet God counted these sons as Jacob's own, made them tribal heads, and works all things together for good.
And Bilhah conceived, and bore Jacob a son.
Rachel had no children, and she envied her sister, so she gave her servant Bilhah to Jacob to bear a child for her. This verse records the result, and the names that follow reveal both Rachel's heart and God's grace.
Rachel's plan came from a feeling she could not control. It also copied something that had already failed once.
It is all too sad to see why Rachel resented her own childlessness while her sister had many children. Self was at work in her. It blinded her to what her sister lacked: Jacob's heart, which Rachel alone had. It was envy, that low feeling which cannot bear another — even a sister — having what she had not... But he gave in to her proposal, and takes Bilhah so that she might have children through her maid. Had not Sarah, honoured as she was, done the same? Yes — but through Ishmael, did it not end with both Hagar and her son being driven out?
Handing a servant to her husband broke God's original design for marriage. Yet God did not write off the children.
All this shows what God set up marriage to be: the union of one man and one woman. The two, and only two, become one. What is more than this is not of God, but is of human lust... Jacob's two wives gave their handmaids to their husband, and so he had four wives. God counted the twelve sons of these four women as Jacob's sons, all alike, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. It might have been thought that God would not have blessed the issue of these unions, but He did.
The next verse gives this boy his name. One writer links Rachel's method to a habit we still fall into.
Then we too often resort to a humanly devised substitute, as Rachel did in verse 3... When a boy was born (vv. 5-6), Rachel said that God had given her a son, and she named him Dan, meaning "judge."... All of this struggle is a picture of the struggle in Romans 7. We try to subdue the evil passions of our hearts, but this only stirs them up.
Here two things stand side by side: what Rachel's choices reveal, and what God does with them anyway.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction in gaining points of strife on her own part... But God keeps His own right. Every wrong has its effect among men, and it comes under His judgment. Even so, He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the ones called according to His purpose.
Rachel gives God the credit for this birth. Which name she uses for Him matters.
How dreadfully everything has sunk morally since Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is not barrenness of the flesh, with God stepping in with promise and power. Instead, oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousies, and scheming... So Rachel here, even in her special circumstances, has no thought of Jehovah's ways. She says, "God has judged me." It stays that way all the way through, until grace softens her heart. Then she says, in faith, "Jehovah will add."
This son becomes a whole tribe. Its future holds a dark chapter, and then blessing.
Dan was the first son of Rachel's maid Bilhah... Looking ahead, this brings us to the time when Israel governs itself again... It seems likely the antichrist will come from the tribe of Dan, since Revelation 7 leaves Dan out of the 144,000... Yet even so, Dan will have his place in the blessing of the millennium.
- Envy starts it. Rachel could not bear that her sister had what she lacked. Envy, not faith, drove the plan behind this birth.
- Copying fails. Rachel copied Sarah's substitute plan. Sarah's ended with Hagar and Ishmael driven out.
- Naming exposes. "Dan" means "judge"; the names Rachel chose speak of points won in a quarrel, not of grace.
- God still reckons. Jacob's family broke God's order for marriage. Even so, God counted all twelve sons as Jacob's and made them heads of the tribes.
- Grace outlasts strife. Rachel says "God" while her heart is hard. Grace softens her, and then she says "Jehovah." All the while God works everything together for good to those who love Him.
And Rachel said, God has done me justice, and has also heard my voice, and given me a son; therefore she called his name Dan.
Rachel is childless while her sister gives Jacob son after son, so she hands her servant Bilhah to him. When the boy is born, she names him Dan and calls it a verdict in her favour — but was God taking her side?
The child was not Rachel's own, and the plan behind him was not new.
Then we too often turn to a substitute of our own devising, as Rachel did. Sarah had done the same when she gave Abraham her servant to have a child by her. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned. But she thought, as Sarah did, that the children of Bilhah, her servant, would be hers. When a boy was born, Rachel said that God had given her a son, and she named him Dan, meaning "judge."
One writer names the feeling behind Rachel's demand, and sets her beside Hannah, another childless woman who took a different road.
It was envy. That low feeling cannot bear another person — even a sister — having what she did not have. It broke out in unreasonable and irreverent complaining to her husband, as if her barrenness were his fault... But he gave in to her proposal, and took Bilhah so that she might have children through her maid. Had not Sarah, who was honoured, done the same? Yes, but through Ishmael did it not end with both Hagar and her son being sent away?... How different from Hannah, sorrowful under Peninnah's taunts... She broke out into no improper complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
The names in this chapter tell us what was in the mother's heart. God still works good out of it.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah showed the state of her soul, and her feeling toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not speak of grace. They speak of her satisfaction at scoring points in the quarrel... But it is God's own right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose. Every wrong still has its effect among men and its judgment before Him. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
Rachel says "God" — Elohim — and not "Jehovah," the name the ESV prints as "the LORD." One writer weighs what her choice shows.
How far everything has sunk, morally, from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is not the barrenness of the flesh, with God stepping in with promise and power. Oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousy and cunning! There is only one green spot in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard... So Rachel here, even in her special circumstances, has no thought of Jehovah's ways. She says, "Elohim has judged me," and it is like that all the way through, until grace softens her heart. Then she says, in faith, "Jehovah will add."
The mothers name these sons; Jacob has no say. One writer traces that silence to Jacob's own state at the time.
It is worth noting that in each case the mother gave the name, and it grew out of her own circumstances and feelings. Jacob does not appear to have had any say in the matter. In this up-and-down stretch of his life there is no record of his having an altar for sacrifice and fellowship with God. Being out of touch, he had no guidance about the names of his children.
The name given in a rivalry became a whole tribe's calling — and its warning.
Dan's place among the tribes stands for judgment, and that is an honourable place. Yet his later history contradicted the truth of that position. Dan was the first tribe to bring in idolatry openly. What a solemn lesson for us! When we are given the place of judging for God, we may take that authority for ourselves until it amounts to idolatry.
Yet the failure of the tribe did not cancel what its name promised.
Still, such is the grace of God that in Ezekiel's prophecy of the restoration of the tribes, Dan is the first named and provided for — the worst sinner of all. There the question is not one of service but of mercy... Then at last Jacob's promise comes true, the promise even their wickedness could not cancel: "Dan shall judge his people as one of the tribes of Israel."
- Judge. Dan means "judge," and Rachel gave the name because she read the birth as a ruling in her favour against her sister.
- Copied. Rachel took the plan from Sarah and Hagar, and it had already ended badly once.
- Elohim. She says "God has judged me," not "Jehovah" — that name comes only later, when grace has softened her.
- Silent. Jacob has no altar and no fellowship with God at this stage, so he has no voice in naming these sons.
- Overruled. A name born in strife became a tribe that fell into idolatry — yet mercy still keeps Dan's place among the tribes.
And Bilhah Rachel's maidservant again conceived, and bore Jacob a second son.
In Genesis 30, Bilhah has a second son. She was Rachel's servant, given to Jacob because Rachel could not have children. One line of family record holds an impatient plan, two rival sisters, and a name a whole tribe would carry. Why did God write it down?
Rachel could not bear children, so she arranged a substitute. One writer points out that she was copying a plan already tried in the family — a plan that had failed.
We too often resort to a humanly conceived substitution, as Rachel did in verse 3. Sarah had done the same in giving Abraham her handmaid by whom to have a child. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned, but she thought, as Sarah did, that the children of Bilhah, her handmaid, would be hers... Bilhah also had a second son, whom Rachel named Naphtali, meaning "my wrestling," because of Rachel's wrestling with her sister Leah. All of this struggle is a picture of the struggle of Romans 7. That struggle only stirs up the evil passions of our hearts, instead of subduing them, as we try to do.
The second birth settled nothing. One writer names the feeling behind Rachel's plan, then sets her beside Hannah, who met her own trouble at home in a different spirit.
One understands too well, too sadly, why Rachel should view her own childlessness and her sister rich in children with resentment. Self worked in her. It blinded her to this: her sister did not have Jacob's heart, and Rachel alone had it. It was envy — that base feeling which cannot endure another, even a sister, having what she had not... How different from Hannah! She was sorrowful under Peninnah's taunts, and even under the high priest's wrong judgment of her. She made no ugly complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
The names Rachel chose show what was going on inside her. But the same writer does not leave the story with her.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction in winning points of strife on her own part... Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Himself. But it is God's right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
Commentators differ over the name. One hears only Rachel's rivalry in it. Another asks whose strength a wrestler leans on.
Naphtali means "a wrestler." In a spiritual sense he is no longer a carnal wrestler trusting in his own power, but a mighty wrestler for God. That is what he is in the mind of God, and in the sense of his sonship as belonging to God. He represents that spirit of power of man with God, the weak with the mighty One.
Bilhah bore the child, but she did not name him. One writer notes this, and what became of the tribes that came from the two servants.
Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, and Leah and Rachel named them. The handmaids did not name their own sons, and the four tribes descended from these do not appear to have made any particular mark in the nation's later history.
A verse like this can look like family bookkeeping. One writer explains why God kept it in Scripture.
We have man as he is, as nowhere else: the truth is told us that we may know ourselves as well as God. So it matters that inspired light falls on what man's proud selfishness looks down on as mere family quarrels. To the believer these accounts are full of healthy instruction. They also carry a witness of God's concern and compassion.
- Wrestling begins. Rachel had no children, and that turned into envy. Envy produced a human plan instead of a prayer — the same shortcut Sarah took before her.
- Wrestling names. Rachel called Bilhah's second son "my wrestling." The names she chose record her struggle with her sister, not her confidence in God.
- Wrestling exposed. God kept the story so we can see ourselves. Scripture shows man as he is, and shows God's compassion inside what looks like a mere family quarrel.
- Wrestling redirected. Another writer reads the same word as strength drawn from God, not from self: not a wrestler trusting his own power, but a weak man mighty with the mighty One.
- Wrestling overruled. Every wrong has its effect and its judgment. Yet God works all things together for good to those who love Him. Out of this tangled household came the tribes of Israel.
And Rachel said, Wrestlings of God have I wrestled with my sister, and have prevailed; and she called his name Naphtali.
Rachel has no children of her own, so she gives Jacob her servant Bilhah. She then names Bilhah's second son from her fight with her sister — a fight she claims to have won, and calls God's.
One commentator sees Rachel repeating a mistake Sarah had already made, and reads the whole scene as a picture of an inner struggle:
Sarah had done the same, giving Abraham her servant to have a child by her. Rachel ought to have known that this did not work out as Sarah planned, but she thought, as Sarah did, that the children of Bilhah, her servant, would be hers. Bilhah had a second son whom Rachel named Naphtali, meaning "my wrestling," because of Rachel's wrestling with her sister Leah. All of this struggle is a picture of the struggle of Romans 7. That struggle only stirs up the evil passions of our hearts, instead of subduing them as we try to do.
Rachel had Jacob's love; Leah had the children. Rachel turned on her husband — the opposite of Hannah, who took her rival's taunts to God in prayer:
It is easy to understand, and sad, why Rachel looked at her own childlessness and her sister's many children with bitterness. Self worked in her and blinded her to her sister's lack of Jacob's heart, which she alone had. It was envy, that low feeling which cannot bear another — even a sister — having what she had not. It broke out in unreasonable and irreverent complaining to her husband, as if her barrenness were his fault... How different from Hannah! She was sorrowful under Peninnah's taunts, and the high priest misjudged her too. She made no improper complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
The ESV reads "mighty wrestlings." Older translations give Rachel's phrase as "wrestlings of God," and the name she uses there is Elohim. Leah had used the name Jehovah when she named her sons. One writer reads the shift of divine names in these two chapters as deliberate:
Notice the beauty of Scripture in the use of the divine names in these chapters. In the case of Leah (Genesis 29), who was hated compared with Rachel, Jehovah as such stepped in with His special regard for her sorrow. She expressed this in the name of her firstborn son, Reuben, and His hearing of her in her second, Simeon... but Jehovah has praise when she bore Judah. In Rachel's case (Genesis 30) there is no such expression at first of confidence in Jehovah's compassionate interest. In disappointment of heart she gives Jacob her maid. When Dan was born, she accepts it as the judgment of Elohim, and at Naphtali's birth she speaks of His wrestlings.
Rachel says she has prevailed. The same commentator weighs what her sons' names really record, and what God does with the whole story:
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her feeling toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction at winning points in a quarrel... But every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Him. And it is God's prerogative to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn over.
The same name can carry a very different meaning. One writer takes Naphtali the wrestler in another direction:
Naphtali is the next one, representing the mighty man of vigour and of valour. Naphtali means "a wrestler" — and in a spiritual sense he is no longer a merely human wrestler, trusting in his own power, but a mighty wrestler for God. That is what he is in the mind of God, and in the awareness of his sonship as belonging to God. He represents that spirit of the power of man with God, the weak with the mighty One.
- Wrestling named. Naphtali means "my wrestling." The boy's name records his mother's contest with her own sister.
- Wrestling motivated. Envy drove it. Rachel could not bear her sister having what she lacked, and she blamed Jacob for what only God could give.
- Wrestling misnamed. Rachel claimed God for her fight. Leah had spoken of Jehovah's compassion; Rachel's words show no such confidence.
- Wrestling exposed. These names speak not of grace but of satisfaction at winning points in a quarrel. The fight stirred up the heart's passions instead of subduing them.
- Wrestling redeemed. God still makes all things work together for good. The same wrestler's name can stand for a mighty wrestler for God — the weak leaning on the mighty One.
And when Leah saw that she had ceased to bear, she took Zilpah her maidservant and gave her to Jacob as wife.
Leah had stopped having children, so she did what Rachel had just done and gave her servant to Jacob. Why does a woman who once broke out in praise now copy her sister's scheme, and what does God do with a family run on rivalry?
Rachel had used this move first, giving Bilhah to Jacob. One writer weighs the names Leah now chooses against the ones she had given before.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her feelings toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction at scoring points in a quarrel of her own making. The same snare caught Leah, and through Zilpah she would match that advantage. She named Zilpah's sons Gad and Asher. Those names do not reflect the contention that governed Rachel's spirit. Even so, they in no way rise to the level of faith she had shown in naming her own sons. Every wrong has its effect among men, and its judgment before Him. But God has the right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
The drop shows when you set these names beside the one she gave her fourth son.
He never fails. Again she bore a son, and said, "This time I will praise the LORD"; so she called his name Judah. Never do we hear of her soul rising so high. The sorrow-stricken woman breaks out into praise of the LORD, and her fourth son carries that praise in the name she gave him that day. Yes, from Judah came, according to the flesh, the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen. How much His grace rises above our praise!
Zilpah bore two sons, and Leah gave them names that say what she settled for.
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics as Rachel. She gave her maid Zilpah to Jacob. Zilpah bore him a son, and Leah named him Gad. Then came another son, whom she named Asher. Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." So we find human support (a troop), and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we long for. But Leah is not satisfied with this… So neither of them was content: the struggle continues.
Another writer finds the mood of this whole stage of Jacob's life in what the women's names mean.
Rachel means "sheep." Her name seems to stand for the meekness and patience of true discipleship. That is the exact opposite of Jacob's self-willed, unrestrained temper up to now. But he must get her by way of unwanted Leah. Leah's name means "wearied," and it suggests the tribulation that works patience out. Even then, before Rachel is fruitful, and while there is no hope of her fruitfulness, Jacob receives the servant women: Bilhah, "terror," and Zilpah, "a dropping" (as of tears).
Jacob now has four wives. One writer weighs that against God's design for marriage, and then against what God did with the children.
All this shows that God's institution of marriage was the union of one man and one woman — the two, and only two, becoming one. Anything beyond this is not of God, but comes from human lust… Jacob's two wives gave their handmaids to their husband, and so he had four wives. God reckoned the twelve sons of these four women equally as sons of Jacob, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. It might have been thought that God would not bless the offspring of such unions, but He did.
Another writer points out how little we hear later of the tribes that came from the servant women.
Here we have the origin of the tribes in these sons. Leah and Rachel named them. The handmaids did not name their own sons. The four tribes that came from them do not seem to have made any particular mark in the nation's later history.
- Snare — Rachel set the pattern of scoring points off her sister, and the same snare caught Leah. Rivalry spreads faster than anyone means it to.
- Descent — In naming Judah she had climbed to praise, and Christ came from that line. Here she drops back to matching her sister.
- Substitute — "A troop" and "happy" name what we grab when we won't wait: human backup and self-made cheerfulness. Neither ends the struggle.
- Judgment — Marriage is one man and one woman. What goes beyond that is not from God. Every wrong leaves its mark among people, and God judges it.
- Grace — Yet God counted all twelve sons as Jacob's and made them heads of the tribes. He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him.
And Zilpah Leah's maidservant bore Jacob a son.
Leah has stopped having children, so she hands her servant Zilpah to Jacob as a wife, and Zilpah has a son. One sister arranged this birth to compete with the other — so what does God do with a family built on rivalry and human schemes?
Rachel had already given her maid Bilhah to Jacob. Leah now copies the move, and one writer traces where that copying leads for both women.
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics as Rachel had. She gave her maid Zilpah to Jacob, and by her he had a son, whom Leah named Gad... Gad means "a troop"... So we find human support (a troop), and try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we want. But Leah is not satisfied with this... So neither of them was content: the struggle continues.
The device was not new in this family. Jacob had taken Bilhah on Rachel's suggestion. One writer asks whether Sarah's earlier attempt was any recommendation, and sets beside it a woman who took a different road.
He gave in to her proposal and took Bilhah, so that Rachel might have children through her maid. Had not Sarah, that honoured woman, done the same? Yes — but did it not bear fruit in Ishmael, and end with both Hagar and her son driven out? Was that encouraging? How different Hannah was, grieving under Peninnah's taunts! She did not break out in improper complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to Jehovah, and the God of Israel heard her.
Hagar was Sarah's Egyptian servant, given to Abraham when Sarah had no child. Hannah was a wife with no children, taunted by Peninnah, her husband's other wife. She prayed instead of scheming.
Scripture records this arrangement without a word of approval.
But of old God permitted what was far from His mind, as we see here, until He makes all things new.
One writer reads the women's names in this chapter as a quiet commentary on what Jacob was going through. Zilpah's name belongs to that picture.
The names of the wives and children also point to the inward, personal character of the line of truth set before us here. Rachel means "sheep." Her name seems to stand for the meekness and patience of true discipleship, the very opposite of Jacob's self-willed and unruly temper up to this point. But he could only win her through Leah, whom he did not want. Leah's name means "wearied," and it suggests the "tribulation" that works out "patience." And even then, before Rachel has a child, and in despair of ever having one, the servant women come in: Bilhah, "terror," and Zilpah, "a dropping" (as of tears).
These were not Jacob's best years. Yet these very years produced the sons of a nation.
God's hidden providence has blessed Jacob and kept him safe all this time. Yet it was a time of failure: a spirit of cunning instead of confidence in God. It was the time when he was an outcast and rejected, and in this he is a picture of Israel. Yet this was really the time when his children were born, "for more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married wife, says the Lord."
In Abraham's household, God shut a servant's son out of the inheritance. Jacob's household turns out differently.
Something else is remarkable here. Unlike Ishmael in the story of Abraham, the sons of the servant women do not take a separate or lower place. They are blessed along with the other sons of Jacob. Of Ishmael God said that the son of the servant woman would never be an heir with the son of the free woman... Jacob's twelve sons give a complete picture of God's earthly people. God's government blesses them together, because in Scripture the number twelve is always connected with God's rule over His people.
Another writer notes a difference, though — one that shows up in who named the boys.
Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, and Leah and Rachel named them. The servant women did not name their own sons, and the four tribes descended from them do not appear to have made any particular mark in the later history of the nation.
- Plotting — Leah copies her sister's move and hands over Zilpah. The copying leaves neither woman satisfied.
- Precedent — the same plan in Abraham's house produced Ishmael and ended in expulsion. Hannah's tears and prayers were the better way.
- Permission — God allowed in that age what was far from His mind, so the record is history, not approval.
- Providence — Jacob's years of cunning and exile were still the years God used to give a nation its children.
- Parity — the servant's son is not shut out like Ishmael. The twelve are blessed together under God's rule, though the servant women never named them and their tribes stayed obscure.
And Leah said, Fortunately! and she called his name Gad.
Leah had stopped having children, so she gave her servant Zilpah to Jacob. Zilpah bore a son, and Leah greeted him with a word about luck, not a word about God. The name she chose, Gad, would travel far — into a tribe of fighters, and even into Israel's later drift from the LORD.
Scripture gives only the barest facts about Gad himself — his place in Jacob's family, and his own sons.
The seventh son of Jacob, and the first of Zilpah, Leah's maid. Very little is recorded of Gad, except that he had seven sons. Gen. 30:11; Gen. 46:16; 1 Chr. 5:11.
Older Bibles translate Leah's cry "A troop comes." Newer ones read "Good fortune has come." The word carries both senses, and the second one has a dark history. In Isaiah's day the same name stood for something Israel turned to after leaving the LORD.
God cannot forget the state of departure and sin that marked the people in Isaiah's day. They had forsaken the LORD; they had forsaken His holy mountain, where His temple stood. And what had they turned to? The rest of the verse reveals it, though the translation is rather unclear. Darby's New Translation puts "Gad" in place of "that troop," and "Meni" in place of "that number." Its footnotes explain that the first word means "Fortune, or the planet Jupiter," and the second means "Number, or Fate, or the planet Venus."
One commentator tracks which name for God appears at each birth.
Jehovah stepped in with His special regard for Leah's sorrow. The name of her first-born son, Reuben, expressed that, and the name of her second, Simeon, expressed His hearing. Jehovah has praise when she bore Judah. Leah, following Rachel's example, gains Gad and Asher through Zilpah, but makes no acknowledgment of the divine name in either form. After this comes the incident of using mandrakes for hire, when Elohim acts for Leah in sovereign power and she owns Him as such when Issachar was born.
This name falls below her earlier ones. Even so, it does not stop God's purpose.
Leah gave Zilpah's sons the names Gad and Asher. These names do not reflect the rivalry that governed Rachel's spirit. Even so, they fell far short of the faith she had shown in naming her own sons. But this is God's prerogative: to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. Every wrong still has its effect among men, and it faces judgment before God Himself.
Rachel had already given her servant to Jacob. Leah copies her, and one writer reads both names as a picture of leaning on human help.
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics as Rachel. She gave her maid Zilpah to Jacob, and Zilpah bore him a son. Leah named him Gad, and named a second son Asher. Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." So we find human support (a troop), and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we want. But Leah is not satisfied with this.
Leah spoke better than she knew. The word she blurted out turned out to describe the tribe's whole character — growth, and a fight to go with it.
Gad lies next to Reuben. Gad is the type of spiritual increase, and of a fighting condition too. Leah's exclamation, "A troop comes," holds both things. In a world like this, spiritual increase rarely comes without conflict. In David's time the men of Gad were famous as warriors.
Leah's word outlived her. The same name shows up in a prophecy about the tribe's last days.
Gad was the first son of Zilpah, Leah's maid. His name means "a troop." This name appears in the prophecy that a troop — the armies of enemy nations — would trample Gad underfoot, with Gad standing for Israel. The tribulation period will bring this to pass. But the same prophecy says Gad will in the end overcome the troop. God will give Israel the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
- Cause — Leah copies Rachel's plan. She reaches for "human support (a troop)," and it leaves her unsatisfied.
- Gap — Her earlier sons' names owned God. This one makes "no acknowledgment of the divine name in either form."
- Warning — In Isaiah's day the same word stood for "Fortune," and people who had forsaken the LORD turned to it.
- Grace — Her weaker faith does not stop God. It is His prerogative "to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him."
- Result — Her careless cry came true. Gad stood for increase, and increase "rarely comes without conflict" — trampled first, and overcoming in the end.
And Zilpah Leah's maidservant bore Jacob a second son.
Genesis 30 records a painful contest between two sisters over sons. This verse records the fourth son born to a servant, which raises a question: what does God do with children born into a home at war with itself?
These births come out of competition, not faith. The women who bore the children had no say in what followed.
Genesis 30:1-21 tells the sordid story of Jacob's children. It tells how both Rachel and Leah plotted to gain sons and so secure themselves in his favour. Here we have the origin of the tribes in these sons, and Leah and Rachel named them. The servant women did not name their own sons. The four tribes that came from them do not appear to have made any particular mark in the nation's later history.
Rachel had already given her servant to Jacob. Leah answered with a move of her own. The names she chose for Zilpah's two sons tell us where her heart now stood.
Leah fell into the same trap, and through Zilpah she would match that advantage. She named Zilpah's sons Gad and Asher. Those names do not reflect the contention that governed Rachel's spirit, but they by no means rose to the level of faith she had shown in naming her own sons. Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Himself. Yet it is God's right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
Leah now had a fourth son through her servant. The meanings of the boys' names show what she was reaching for.
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics as Rachel. She gave her maid Zilpah to Jacob, and he had a son by her. Leah named him Gad, and she named the next son Asher (vv. 9-13). Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." So we find human support (a troop), and we try to make ourselves happy as we are. We never reach the state we want, and Leah is not satisfied with this… So neither of them was really content: the struggle goes on.
This arrangement fell far short of what God set up at the beginning. Yet the son born here was not treated as second class.
All this shows that God set up marriage as the union of one man and one woman. The two, and only two, become one. Anything more than this is not of God, but is of human lust… Jacob's two wives gave their servants to their husband, and so he had four wives. God reckoned the twelve sons of these four women equally as sons of Jacob, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. It might have been thought that God would not have blessed the fruit of these unions, but He did.
All this took place during Jacob's twenty years away from home. Family growth and hard service ran side by side.
During his twenty years of exile, Jacob enjoys no further such revelations of His presence. In the meantime, God deals with him as one for whom He has purposes of blessing. He can only reach that blessing through painful discipline. God multiplies him mainly through unwelcome Leah and the servant women, while he serves long and with hard labour for wives and flocks. Like his descendants, he is multiplied as the dust, while trampled into it.
Centuries later Israel's story had collapsed. Yet a small faithful group still waited for Christ, and one of them came from the tribe descended from this child.
The blessing of Asher in Deut. 33:24-25 ends with these lovely words: "as your days, so shall your strength be." Yet all went to ruin, as the history of Israel unfolds. Yet at the first coming of Christ, the godly remnant of the people were "waiting for the consolation of Israel." Among them we find one of that same tribe: "a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher"… And the Lord Christ Himself became identified with that obscure remnant. She was one of them.
- Rivalry. Rachel's scheme became Leah's scheme. Each sister used her servant to outdo the other, and neither was content.
- Silence. The servants bore the sons but did not name them. The rival wives chose the names, and those names fell short of faith.
- Mercy. What was far below God's own pattern for marriage did not stop Him blessing the children born from it.
- Discipline. God multiplied Jacob's family in his hardest years, while hard service trampled him like dust.
- Harvest. This birth began a tribe that made little mark in Israel. Yet Anna came from it, still waiting for Christ when He came.
And Leah said, Happy am I; for the daughters will call me blessed! and she called his name Asher.
Two sisters are competing for Jacob, and Leah's servant Zilpah has just borne a second son. Leah names him Asher, which means "happy" — but commentators ask whether that happiness was real, and where God is in her words.
Leah is copying Rachel, who had already given her servant to Jacob to gain sons. One writer reads the two names Leah gives Zilpah's boys as a picture of what people grab for when they cannot get what they really want.
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics as Rachel. She gave her maid Zilpah to Jacob, and he had a son by her. Leah named him Gad, and named a second son Asher (vv. 9-13). Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." So we find human support (a troop), and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we desire. But Leah is not satisfied with this... Neither of them was actually content: the struggle continues.
Earlier, Leah had put God into the names of her own sons. Reuben and Simeon confessed that the Lord saw and heard her; Judah was pure praise. With Zilpah's sons, that thread drops. One writer traces the divine names through these chapters and notices the gap exactly here.
Leah was hated compared with Rachel (Gen. 29). Jehovah, under that name, stepped in with His special regard for her sorrow. She put this into the name of her first-born son, Reuben, and His hearing into her second, Simeon... but Jehovah has praise when she bore Judah... Leah, following Rachel's example, gains through Zilpah Gad and Asher, but makes no acknowledgment of the divine name in either form.
So Leah announces her happiness without naming God at all. Her measure of blessing is what the women around her will say.
Names in this chapter work like a window. Rachel's choices, Dan and Naphtali, breathe rivalry; Leah's are gentler but thinner. The same writer weighs Gad and Asher against the faith she had reached before, and then lifts the whole scene into God's hands.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude towards her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction in gaining points of strife on her own part. Leah was drawn into the snare and through Zilpah would equal that advantage. The names she gave Zilpah's sons, Gad and Asher, do not reflect the contention that governed Rachel's spirit. Even so, they came nowhere near the faith she had shown in naming her own sons. Every wrong has its effect among men, and its judgment before God Himself. But it is His prerogative to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose.
The Bible does not tidy this household up. It records the manoeuvring plainly, and from it the twelve tribes of Israel come.
Genesis 30:1-21 tells the sordid story of Jacob's children, and of the schemes of both Rachel and Leah. They tried to gain sons and so establish themselves in his favour. Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, whom Leah and Rachel named. The handmaids did not name their own sons. The four tribes descended from them do not appear to have made any particular mark in the later history of the nation.
Why does God let such material stand in His book? Because Scripture is meant to show us ourselves as much as it shows us God.
We have man as he is, as nowhere else: the truth is told us so that we may know ourselves as well as God. Hence the interest and importance of inspired light on what the proud selfishness of man's mind is inclined to despise as mere domestic quarrels.
Leah spoke of happiness she had grabbed for herself. God later filled that same word with something she never planned. When Moses blessed the tribes before his death, Asher stands last and stands for joy that lasts.
Asher, meaning "happy," fittingly ends this interesting list. "Asher is most blessed of sons: let him be favoured by his brothers, and let him dip his foot in oil" (v. 24). Again, all Israel is represented in the lasting joy that Asher speaks of. "They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away" (Isa. 35:10).
The word even left a mark on Israel's songbook. The Psalms that open with "Blessed" carry Asher's name. One writer, quoting verse 13 in an older translation, sorts them by who is called happy.
It is worth noting that these Psalms beginning "blessed" the Jews call Asherite Psalms. Asher was the name of one of Jacob's sons. The mother, delighted with her child, called him Asher — "Happy am I, for the daughters will call me blessed."... First, Psalm 1 is the blessing of someone who has perfectly done God's will. It makes no allowance for any evil — all Christ. Second, Psalm 32 is the blessing of the poor sinner. He has not a shred of righteousness of his own, but is grafted into Christ.
- Happy, claimed. Asher means "happy." Leah's cry names a happiness she arranged for herself through her servant — the same tactic Rachel used.
- Happy, unnamed. She had once put God into her sons' names, right up to praise in Judah. With Gad and Asher she leaves God's name out.
- Happy, unsatisfied. The verse sounds like victory. Yet neither sister was content, and the struggle for Jacob's favour goes straight on.
- Happy, overruled. Every wrong has its effect, and its judgment before God. Yet He still causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him.
- Happy, fulfilled. The name outlived the boast. Asher stands for lasting joy in a later blessing on the tribes, and the "blessed" Psalms that carry his name find that happiness in Christ.
And Reuben went out in the days of wheat-harvest, and found mandrakes in the fields; and he brought them to his mother Leah. And Rachel said to Leah, Give me, I pray thee, of thy son's mandrakes.
Reuben's find in the wheat field leads to one of the strangest bargains in the Bible: a wife trading a night with her own husband for a handful of plants. What were these mandrakes, why did Rachel want them so badly, and why does God leave such a scene in the record of the family that became Israel?
The Hebrew word behind "mandrakes" is dudaim. Nobody can say for sure which plant it was.
dudaim. Some strong-smelling plant found in the fields of Palestine. Writers have suggested many different herbs. It is possibly the Mandragora officinarum, called the "love apple," a relative of the "apple of Sodom." Genesis 30:14-16; Song of Solomon 7:13.
Both women were reaching for something they had not managed to get any other way. Leah saw at once why her sister wanted the plants.
So we look for human support, and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we want. But Leah is not satisfied with this. As soon as Reuben brings her mandrakes, she sees the chance of having another son. Rachel tried to get some for the same purpose, but Leah answered her sharply (v. 15). She knew Rachel's purpose. So neither of them was actually content: the struggle continues.
Both sisters treated the mandrakes as if the plants held power to give children. One writer says plainly what that trust was worth.
No veil covers their deplorable unbelief and mean jealousy. Nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples. In this they were just like other Syrian women, who gave themselves to the empty practices of the nations. Clearly Rachel gained nothing from the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who longed to share her husband's affection. She bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter.
The one who bought the mandrakes stayed barren. The one who sold them received children. The plant did nothing; God gave the children.
Measured against Abraham and Isaac, this household has slipped a long way down. And the one bright spot in it is not the plant.
How dreadfully everything has sunk morally from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is not barrenness of the flesh, met by God stepping in with promise and power. Instead, oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousy and craft! Only one green spot is in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard. All the rest is miserable and merely flesh, and God sends nothing but rightful chastening and discipline. And how that has marked the race ever since! Yet God has blessed and will bless.
These small, ugly scenes do two things at once.
They show us, to the life, the humbling history of the man who fathered a people God chose to be His own possession on the earth, despite these petty ways. They also let us into the secret of that grace in God which rose above all that was detestable beyond measure to His nature in light and love. That grace even looked on to Him who was to come from this very family — the Christ who is over all, God blessed forever.
And God does more than rise above the mess. He turns it toward His own end.
Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Him. Yet God alone has the right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to His purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
- Plant. Dudaim is a strong-smelling field plant, possibly the "love apple." The Bible names it and never explains it, and careful writers leave the question open.
- Want. Nothing satisfied either sister — not servants, not sons, not a husband's affection. So the struggle went on.
- Bargain. Rachel asks for the plants. Leah knows exactly why, and answers her sharply.
- Failure. Rachel gained nothing from the mandrakes. Her trust matched the empty practices of the nations around her. God gave children to the sister who handed the plants over.
- Grace. The Bible hides none of the jealousy. That is how we see the grace that chose this family, and brought Christ from it, rising above everything in them.
And she said to her, Is it [too] little that thou hast taken my husband, that thou wilt take my son's mandrakes also? And Rachel said, Therefore he shall lie with thee to-night for thy son's mandrakes.
Two sisters, married to the same man, are bargaining, and the price is a night with their husband. Leah answers with an old grievance over a stolen husband, and Rachel offers the night as payment.
The bitterness here starts further back than the mandrakes. One writer traces it to the same source as the trouble in other homes where a man took more than one wife.
Marriage was set up at the start to give a man one companion only. Plural marriages appear never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over the servant Hagar, and in Jacob's family, the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah.
Scripture softens nothing here. The mandrakes were prized plants — "love-apples" — that both sisters linked with having a child.
Scripture draws no veil over their shameful unbelief and mean jealousy. It makes no excuse for their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples, just like other Syrian women who gave themselves only to the empty things of the pagan nations. Rachel clearly gained nothing by what the boy Reuben found. But God pitied Leah, who longed to share her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, and a daughter as well.
Notice the outcome. Rachel paid for the plants and gained nothing by them. Leah bore more children, and the reason given is God's pity, not the mandrakes.
Leah's sharp answer is not the reaction of a woman at peace. She had never had a full share of her husband's affection, and now the plants were being asked for too.
As soon as Reuben brings her mandrakes, she sees the possibility of having another son. Rachel tried to get some for the same reason, but Leah answered her sharply (v. 15). She knew what Rachel was after. So neither of them was content: the struggle continues.
The thing fought over is small. One writer pictures envy at exactly that scale, then names the damage it does.
We are like a child in a nursery who pouts and frets because the other child has an apple a size larger than his own. And the child holding the big apple was the naughty one! Oh, what mischief can envy work in the heart of a believer! And what misery too it can produce, and what sin!
Rachel's offer sets a price on Jacob. The word "hire" then turns up in the name of the son who follows, and the bargain still falls short.
Mandrakes were clearly a cherished delicacy, and Jacob let himself be persuaded to share his bed with Leah that night. His natural appetite leads him, and Leah bears another son, Issachar, meaning "he will be hired." Then she has a sixth son of her own, named Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends but always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
The names Leah chose show where her heart was.
But how strangely low Leah's state was in seeing Issachar as her wages from God, because she had given her servant to Jacob! And in naming Zebulun she was clinging to the hope that her husband's love would now last.
Why record a squabble like this at all? Because the family being described here is the family the nation of Israel came from — and the family the Christ came from.
They show us, true to life, the humbling history of the ancestor of a people God chose to be His own possession on the earth, despite these petty ways. They also let us into the secret of God's grace. That grace rose above everything His nature of light and love found beyond measure detestable. It even looked ahead to the One who would come from this very family — the Christ who is over all, God blessed for ever, as truly God as His Father.
- Root. The rivalry is the fruit of a marriage God never designed; plural marriages "appear never to have worked well in practice."
- Rivalry. Leah's sharp answer exposes a home where neither woman was content — "the struggle continues."
- Bargain. Rachel trades a night with her husband for a delicacy, and the son who follows carries the name "he will be hired."
- Shortfall. People "struggle hard to reach their own ends but always come short" — Leah reaches six, never seven.
- Grace. Scripture excuses nothing, yet God's grace rose above it all, and out of this very family came the Christ.
And when Jacob came from the fields in the evening, Leah went out to meet him, and said, Thou must come in to me, for indeed I have hired thee with my son's mandrakes. And he lay with her that night.
Leah meets Jacob at the end of the day and tells him she has bought his company for the night, with a plant her son found in the field. Two sisters had traded it between them, so what is God doing in a home run by jealousy and trade?
The word behind "mandrakes" names a plant that grew wild in the fields. No one has ever pinned down which plant it was.
Dudaim: a strong-smelling plant found in the fields of Palestine. Writers have suggested many different herbs. It may be the Mandragora officinarum, called the 'love apple,' a relative of the 'apple of Sodom.' The Atropa mandragora is another species. Gen. 30:14-16; Song 7:13.
Both women treated this plant as if it held power to give children. One writer traces that trust back to the customs around them, and says Rachel gained nothing by it:
Nothing covers up their sad unbelief and petty jealousy, and nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples. In this they were just like other Syrian women, who lived only for the empty things the nations around them valued. Rachel clearly gained nothing by the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who wanted to share her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. Yet how strangely low Leah's state was: she counted Issachar her wages from God because she had given her servant to Jacob, and she named Zebulun out of her fond hope that her husband's love would last.
Leah's own word for the night becomes the name of the child born from it. Jacob went along with it.
Mandrakes were clearly a prized delicacy, and Jacob agreed to share Leah's bed that night. His natural appetite leads him, and Leah bears another son, Issachar, meaning "he will be hired." Then she has a sixth son of her own, named Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends and still come short, for seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
Jacob had two wives, and the friction here traces back to that. One writer names the other homes where the same arrangement bred trouble:
Marriage was set up at the start to give a man one companion only. Marriage to more than one wife never seems to have worked well in practice. Look at the shameful discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, the lesser wife, and in Jacob's family, the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah.
Each sister got what she bargained for. One writer follows what each one was really after.
Leah is not satisfied with this. For as soon as Reuben brings her mandrakes she sees the possibility of having another son. Rachel tried to get some for the same reason, but Leah answered her sharply (v.15). Leah knew what Rachel was after. So neither of them was really content: the struggle goes on.
Nothing here is hidden. One writer measures this household against the days of Abraham and Isaac.
How terribly everything has sunk in moral terms from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is no longer natural barrenness, with God stepping in by promise and power. Instead — oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousy and scheming! Only one spot of green is in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard. All the rest is misery and mere flesh, only fair correction and discipline from God. And how that has marked the race ever since! Yet God has blessed and will bless.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some read the chapter as discipline on a family far from God. Others stress the pity God showed the unloved wife.
- Bargain. Leah bought a night with her husband using her son's mandrakes. The plant grew wild in the fields. People prized it as a delicacy and trusted it with a power it never had.
- Hire. The word she used priced the whole transaction, and it stuck: the son born of that night is Issachar, "he will be hired."
- Rivalry. Marriage began with one companion for one man. Where people set that aside — in Abraham's house and in Jacob's — jealousy followed.
- Restlessness. Rachel got the mandrakes and Leah got the night. Neither ended up content, and the struggle carried on into the next child.
- Grace. The record hides none of the selfishness and scheming. Yet in that same scene God pitied the unloved wife and heard the barren one, and He has blessed and will bless.
And God hearkened to Leah, and she conceived, and bore Jacob a fifth son.
Two sisters are bargaining over one husband: Rachel trades a night with Jacob for the mandrake plants that Leah's son found. The verse makes a striking claim about all of it: the son came because God listened.
The mandrake bargain looks like the cause of the birth. But Rachel, who paid, got nothing, while Leah, who sold, conceived. One writer notes that the record covers up nothing:
Nothing hides their sad unbelief and mean jealousy. Nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples. They were just like other Syrian women, given over to the empty practices of the nations. Rachel gained nothing from the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who was seeking to share her husband's affection, and she bore him now a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter.
The verse says God listened. It does not say the LORD listened. One writer sees how far this family has fallen, and reads Rachel's heart in the name she uses for God:
How far everything has sunk morally from Abraham's day, and even Isaac's! What a scene of selfishness, jealousies, and craft. So Rachel here, even in her special circumstances, has no thought of the LORD's ways; it is "God has judged me," and so it goes all through, until her heart is softened by grace; then she says, in faith, "The LORD will add."
The son born here is named in the next verse from the word for wages. Leah counts her child as payment owed her — and the counting never adds up:
Mandrakes must have been a cherished delicacy, and Jacob let himself be persuaded to share his bed with Leah that night. His natural appetite leads him. Leah bears another son, Issachar, which means "he will be hired." Then Leah has a sixth son of her own, named Zebulon, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends and always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
Leah's own reason for the name shows how low her thinking has sunk:
How strangely low Leah's state is! She counts Issachar as her hire from God because she gave her servant to Jacob.
Nothing in this household is admirable. Yet one writer will not let the wrong have the last word:
Every wrong has its effect among men, and its judgment before Himself. But it belongs to God alone to make all things work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn over.
Issachar's name outlived Leah's bargain. One writer traces what the tribe became, and hears the meaning of the name in it:
In Issachar we find Israel content to be the drudge of the nations. Israel would not bear God's yoke, yet took the yoke of men without a struggle. Here too the name is dwelt on: "there is reward." Ease and gain are all that Israel looks for.
The same writer turns this on the reader. A son named "hire" raises the question of whether we deal with God for wages at all:
The prince of Issachar is Nethanel, whose name means "the gift of God." It suits a man whose own name speaks of hire, who bends his shoulder to foreign yokes and pays his tribute out of love of ease. God may hire a Nebuchadnezzar. But the bread in our Father's house is not for hired servants, even though in the far country one might think so. The hireling spirit in God's own people would turn His grace into legal payment. A true overcomer is this Nethanel, who has learned that the "gift of God" cannot be bought. The family line says the same thing simply: Nethanel is the son of Zuar, which means "Little." The one who thinks of hire is bound to value himself too highly. The one who counts himself really "little" is ready to value the gift of God.
- Listened. The son came because God heard Leah. No bargain and no plant produced him; Rachel bought the mandrakes and gained nothing by them.
- Pitied. One writer names God's motive: He pitied Leah, who was seeking her husband's affection. He answered her sorrow, not her scheming.
- Named. Leah reads the gift as wages owed her, so "hire" is the name she hangs on the child. Her six sons stop short of the seven of completeness.
- Overruled. Every wrong still carries its consequence. Yet God alone can make all things work together for good, and He does it in this jealous household.
- Inherited. The hireling thought outlasts Leah in a tribe that takes the yoke of men for ease and gain. The cure is to count yourself little and take God's gift as a gift.
And Leah said, God has given me my hire, because I have given my maidservant to my husband; and she called his name Issachar.
Leah trades her son's mandrakes for a night with Jacob, and a fifth son follows. She reads the birth as payment for handing her servant to Jacob. The name she gives him raises the question the whole scene presses on us: does God pay wages to those who scheme, or does He give?
The name itself carries the idea of payment. One writer gives its meaning, then links Leah's six sons to a number that falls short.
Mandrakes were clearly a cherished delicacy, and Jacob was persuaded to share his bed with Leah that night. His natural appetite leads him, and Leah bears another son, Issachar, meaning "he will be hired." A sixth son follows for Leah herself, Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends, but always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
Leah does credit God with this birth. One writer still calls her thinking low, and points instead to God's pity for a wife who wanted her husband's love.
Rachel clearly gained nothing by the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who wanted a share in her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. Yet how strangely low Leah's state was, in treating Issachar as her hire from God because she gave her servant to Jacob.
The record of these lives is not flattering. The same writer finds two lessons in that.
These records show us, true to life, the humbling history of the ancestor of a people. God chose that people to be His own possession on the earth, despite these petty ways. They also let us into the secret of God's grace. That grace rose above everything His nature, in light and love, found detestable beyond measure. It even looked on to Him who was to come from this very family.
Leah's instinct did not die with her. Another writer finds the same hireling spirit among God's own people, and traces it to self.
The spirit of legality takes up such strange service willingly, since it is self that it really serves, and a bribe will turn it from its true Master. The hireling spirit in the people of God themselves would turn His grace into legal payment... The one who thinks of hire always values himself too highly. The one who counts himself as really "little" is ready to appreciate the gift of God.
Commentators read the name two ways: hire, and reward. Another writer takes the second sense, and marks where the chance to earn reward ends.
Issachar means "there is reward." Believers at the judgment seat of Christ will receive reward for what they have done for the Lord (2 Cor. 5:10), so this tribe appears to stress what our outward works should be, not just our inward character. Again, its borders are not clearly marked, as though showing that we should not limit our good works. We are to do them for all people, especially those of the household of faith (Gal. 6:10). The east border, however, was the Jordan River. It reminds us that death will end any chance to earn reward for good work done.
The name proved prophetic in two directions — one warning, one hopeful.
When Jacob blessed his sons he said, "Issachar is a strong donkey, crouching between the sheepfolds... he bowed his shoulder to bear, and became a servant at forced labour" (Gen. 49:14-15). This seems to imply that this tribe, with Zebulun, would mix with the world and become slaves to it for profit... Some of Issachar came to David at Ziklag, of whom it is said they "had understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do" (1 Chr. 12:32).
- Hire. Leah names her son from the idea of payment — "he will be hired" — treating a son as wages owed for giving her servant to Jacob.
- Low. One writer calls her state strangely low: she treats a son as her hire from God rather than as His pity.
- Grace. God pitied Leah. The record hides none of the scheming, and shows grace rising above it, right down to the One who was to come from this family.
- Gift. The hireling spirit rates self too highly. The one who counts himself little is ready to receive the gift of God.
- Reward. The name has a truer sense: real reward for work done for the Lord. The Jordan marks the boundary — death ends the chance to earn it.
And Leah again conceived, and bore Jacob a sixth son;
Leah's sixth son arrives in a household where two sisters bargain over one husband. The birth looks like a private family matter. Yet it starts one of the tribes of Israel, and the name Leah gives the boy shows what she was still hoping for.
Leah's own words explain the name she chose. Her sayings on this page come from an older translation than the ESV, where her hope reads as her husband "dwelling" with her.
Now we go on to Zebulun, whose meaning is plain from his name and from the way Leah uses it. She called him Zebulun (dwelling), saying, "This time my husband will dwell with me." The spiritual thought connected with Zebulun is dwelling in the relationship God has given us to Himself. This is the only true thought of consecration.
Leah calls the sixth birth a payment from God. She borrows the word from the marriage customs of her day.
Dowry: the sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife. Leah, on having her sixth son, piously said, "God has endowed me with a good dowry."
She credits God, yet what she wants from Him is her husband's attention.
It is clear that Rachel gained nothing from the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who wanted a share in her husband's affection, and she bore him now a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. But how strangely low Leah's state was! She treated Issachar as her wages from God, because she had given her servant to Jacob. And she named Zebulun out of her fond hope that her husband's love would last.
Leah's own childbearing ends at six. Commentators read that number as a quiet verdict on the whole effort.
Then a sixth son is added for Leah herself, named Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends, but always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week. So Leah, speaking of what I am, can only produce what falls short of any real satisfaction.
The chapter flatters no one in it. Still, this is where Israel's tribes begin.
Genesis 30:1-21 tells the rather sordid story of Jacob's children. Both Rachel and Leah schemed to gain sons and so secure themselves in his favour. Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, whom Leah and Rachel named. The servant women did not name their own sons.
Jacob's own words over this son take the name in a different direction.
The name means a "dwelling with," a close dwelling, as Leah's use of it shows. But Jacob here uses another word, and in this place it clearly has a bad sense. Its first meaning is "to lay oneself down." Zebulun does this at the haven of the sea — the harbour for ships — and his border reaches toward Zidon. The idea of prosperity, or at least of hard work to get it, is plain. Yet for Israel this trade with the idol-worshipping nations was not a good sign, and its results were not good. Her border reaching out toward Zidon foretells a dangerous wiping out of what divided Israel from the nations. Coming where it does, this also clearly hints at how the people, having turned from the Deliverer God sent them, would turn to the world.
Much later, the region called by this son's name showed what that name had come to mean.
Galilee, called "the land of Zebulun and Naphtali" on one side and "Galilee of the Gentiles" on the other, showed plainly how far the people of God had sunk. Zebulun, the dweller in relationship as he should have been, had long since fulfilled Jacob's prophecy. By "dwelling at the haven of the sea" he had become the picture of Israel as a whole, giving up its dwelling alone to mix in unfaithful trade with the nations… But the Saviour of sinners is not stopped by this. There in the darkness was the very place for light to spring up. And now there had come to Zebulun a Dweller, in whom God Himself could dwell with man.
- Dwelling — Zebulun means "dwelling." Leah named him for the hope that her husband would now stay with her. True consecration is dwelling in the relationship God gives us to Himself.
- Dowry — a dowry was the price a man paid for a wife. Leah counted her six sons as God's good payment to her.
- Pity — God pitied Leah, who only wanted a share in her husband's love. Yet her state stayed low: she prized that love more than the God who heard her.
- Six — six, not seven, ends her childbearing. Human striving for our own ends always stops short of completeness.
- The Dweller — Zebulun's tribe gave up its dwelling alone for trade with the nations. Into that darkness came One in whom God Himself dwells with man.
and Leah said, God has endowed me with a good dowry; this time will my husband dwell with me, because I have borne him six sons. And she called his name Zebulun.
Leah bears a sixth son, and she takes the birth as God's gift after years of rivalry with her sister. She names him Zebulun out of hope that her husband will now stay with her, and that name follows a whole tribe through Israel's story.
Leah borrows a word from the marriage customs of her world. Older translations render her thanks as "a good dowry," where the ESV has "a good endowment." A dowry was the price paid to secure a wife, and Jacob had paid his in labour.
The sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife. Leah, when she had her sixth son, said devoutly, "God has endowed me with a good dowry." The dowry Jacob gave for his wives was seven years' service for each.
The name comes straight out of what she says as she gives it. Here the ESV reads "now my husband will honor me," while older translations read "this time my husband will dwell with me" — and Zebulun means dwelling. One writer takes that word further.
Now we go on to Zebulon, whose meaning is plain from his name and from the way Leah uses it. She called him Zebulon (dwelling), saying, "This time my husband will dwell with me." The spiritual thought tied to Zebulon is dwelling in the relationship God has given us to Himself. That is the only true idea of consecration.
Commentators differ on how well Leah is doing here. One writer reads her words as a low point. Her hope rests on Jacob's love, not on God.
Nothing covers over their sad unbelief and petty jealousy. Nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples, just like other Syrian women who lived for the empty things of the nations around them. Rachel clearly gained nothing from the child Reuben's find. But God pitied Leah, who longed for a share in her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. Yet how strangely low Leah's condition is! She treats Issachar as her wages from God because she gave her servant to Jacob. And she names Zebulun out of her fond hope that her husband's love would now last.
Zebulun is the last son Leah bears herself. One writer finds meaning in the number.
These six are all the sons Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends and always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week. So Leah, speaking of what I am, can only produce what falls short of any real satisfaction.
This verse is not only about one household. Each name here becomes a tribe, and the two rival wives chose those names.
Genesis 30:1-21 tells the rather sordid story of Jacob's children. It tells of the schemes of both Rachel and Leah, as they tried to gain sons and so secure a place in his favour. Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, and Leah and Rachel named them.
Leah wanted her husband to settle with her. Centuries later the land named after her son had lost that settled life.
Zebulon should have been the dweller in relationship with God. Instead he had long since fulfilled Jacob's prophecy, and "dwelling at the haven of the sea" had become the picture of Israel as a whole. Israel gave up its solitary dwelling to mix in unfaithful trade with the nations. Now it was only "the way of the sea," as if swallowed up in its waters. Naphtali, the wrestler, sat wrestling no longer, in a darkness that was truly the "shadow of death." But the Saviour of sinners is not stopped by this. There in the darkness was the very place for light to rise. And now there had come to Zebulon a Dweller, in whom God Himself could dwell with man.
- Dowry — Leah uses the language of a bride-price: God has paid her, and six sons are the payment.
- Dwelling — Zebulun means dwelling. It points to dwelling in the relationship God has given us to Himself.
- Hope — she pins that dwelling on a husband's love, and one writer calls this a low moment for her.
- Shortfall — six sons, not seven: hard effort still falls short of real satisfaction.
- Fulfilment — the tribe named "dwelling" ended up mixed with the nations and sitting in darkness. There a Dweller came, in whom God dwells with man.
And afterwards she bore a daughter, and called her name Dinah.
Genesis 30 is a running contest between two sisters. Each new child gets a name that marks a move in it, and this short verse closes the list of Leah's own children. One daughter appears among six sons. Commentators look at her name, and at her later story, to see what kind of home she came from.
The verse gives a name and nothing more. We learn the rest of her life from later chapters, and a short summary shows why she is remembered at all:
Daughter of Jacob and Leah. Shechem, son of the chieftain Hamor, defiled her. That led to the massacre of the people of Shechem through the craftiness and cruelty of Simeon and Levi. Gen. 30:21; Gen. 34:1-26; Gen. 46:15.
Each name in this chapter tells you something about the mother who chose it. Dan is the clearest case:
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not tell us of grace, but of satisfaction at gaining points in the strife on her own part.
God was kind to Leah, but her heart stayed on the same low ground:
It is clear that Rachel gained nothing from the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who longed to share her husband's affection. She bore him now a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. Yet how strangely low Leah's state was! She treated Issachar as her wages from God because she had given her servant to Jacob. She named Zebulun out of her fond hope that her husband's love would now last. Nor did the daughter's name show any higher view; it was close to Dan's.
One writer reads the count itself as a picture. Leah's own children stop at six:
These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends and always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week. So Leah, who speaks of what I am, can only produce what falls short of any real satisfaction. She did then bear a daughter whom she named Dinah (v. 21).
Nothing in this chapter is admirable. Yet something large came out of it:
Genesis 30:1-21 tells the sordid story of Jacob's children. Both Rachel and Leah schemed to gain sons and so secure themselves in his favour. Here we have the origins of the tribes in these sons, whom Leah and Rachel named.
Against all that, God's own character stands out:
Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before God Himself. But it is God's own right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
Dinah appears again later, after her father has stopped travelling and settled down. One writer traces her choice back to his:
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what came of it? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of passing through it as a heavenly pilgrim. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be friends with the world? We all know the sad, shameful result. Who would have guessed that trading a tent for a house could bear such bitter fruit? Yet so it is. In our day too, the friendship of the world is still enmity with God. If we settle down in this world and lose the spirit of a pilgrim, we can hardly blame our children if they seek the friendship of those among whom we have made our home.
- Named — Dinah is the one daughter named among Leah's children. Her name stands close to Dan's, a name of rivalry rather than grace.
- Short — Leah's children stop at six, one short of completeness. Hard effort, and still no real satisfaction.
- Pitied — God still pitied Leah. He gave her sons and this daughter, and made this poor household the origin of the tribes.
- Overruled — Every wrong here keeps its own consequences before God. Yet He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him.
- Costly — Jacob traded the tent for a house, and his daughter went out to the daughters of the land. A parent's settling down bears fruit in the children.
And God remembered Rachel, and God listened to her, and opened her womb.
Genesis 30 has been a chapter of rivalry and bargaining between two sisters married to one man. At this verse the story turns: God steps in, Rachel's long barrenness ends, and the son born here changes the whole family's course.
Earlier in the chapter the sisters worked to get children by their own devices.
When we reach verse 22, we find God begins to act. We leave behind us the scheming of the two wives, though it is still Rachel who gives the name of Joseph. Yet here is a son born as the fruit of God acting in answer to Rachel's prayers, and the story rises to a higher level.
Rachel envied her sister for the children she had. Writers set her beside Hannah, another wife who was taunted for having no children.
Self was at work in her. It blinded her to the fact that her sister did not have Jacob's heart, which she alone had. It was envy — that low feeling that cannot bear another, even a sister, having what she had not... How different from Hannah! She was sorrowful under Peninnah's taunts, and even under the high priest's misjudgment. She made no improper complaints against her husband. She wept and prayed and made a vow to the Lord, and the God of Israel heard her.
Rachel's own words after the birth show she knew what the barren years had been.
Rachel at last, as we read here, refreshes the heart, for here we see the thoughtful tenderness of God's ways. After her long humiliation for her unworthy self-seeking, He was pleased to pity her and give her the son she had longed for. Then she said, God has taken away my reproach. Despite her proud bearing, she knew she was under chastening.
Writers watch which name Rachel uses for God. Earlier she credits a bare "God". Only after Joseph is born does she name the Lord in faith.
How far everything has sunk morally from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's! This is not barrenness of the body, with God stepping in with promise and power. Instead, what a scene of selfishness, jealousies and craft! There is only one green spot in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard... So Rachel here, even in her special situation, has no thought of the Lord's ways. It is "God has judged me," and so on all through, until her heart is softened by grace. Then she says, in faith, "The Lord will add." Joseph is the promise of Benjamin.
Joseph means "adding" — she asks for more even while holding her first. Writers see him as a picture of Christ, though not a complete one.
At last God answered Rachel's prayer, and she gave birth to Joseph (vv. 22-24). His name means "adding," because she had confidence that God would add to her another son. Joseph is plainly a type of Christ... Yet Joseph gives us only one side of the truth about Christ — that He was a Sufferer before being exalted. We must all learn this first. Only then can we appreciate the truth seen in Benjamin. He is a type of Christ as the Son of the Father's right hand, glorified and exalted to the throne, reigning in glory.
The two wives also picture God's larger dealings. Rachel, loved first, stands for Israel. Leah, given in the meantime, stands for the Gentiles — the nations outside Israel.
Jacob loved Rachel first. Yet he still had to wait and serve another week for her, after Leah had been given to him. This bears on the Lord's relation to Israel, loved first, while the slighted Gentile has meanwhile taken her place, with rich results in His grace. God at last remembers Rachel and takes away her reproach by adding to her a son, Joseph. He is a type of One glorified among the Gentiles, who delivers His Jewish brothers after suffering among both Jews and Gentiles.
The change reached her husband too.
The birth of Joseph was a turning point for the spirit of his mother. It did more than that. Jacob then woke up to his proper place and to his country, tied to the promises of God... The needed discipline was not over: Jacob still had more to learn about himself under God's good dealings.
- Remembered, not forgotten. Here God begins to act, and the scheming of the two wives comes to an end.
- Remembered after chastening. Rachel's own words show she knew the barren years were discipline for envy and self-seeking. Hannah, by contrast, wept and prayed instead of complaining against her husband.
- Remembered changes her speech. Before the birth she speaks only of God. Afterwards she names the Lord in faith and expects more — "the Lord will add."
- Remembered reaches beyond her. Joseph pictures Christ as a Sufferer before He was exalted. Benjamin pictures Him glorified at the Father's right hand.
- Remembered moves the whole household. From Joseph's birth Jacob turns his heart back toward his own land and the promises of God. His training was far from finished.
And she conceived, and bore a son, and said, God has taken away my reproach.
Rachel had been childless for years, and this verse records the moment that ended. Her first words on holding her son are not about the child but about God.
Her word "reproach" carries an admission. She knew she had been under God's hand.
Rachel at last, as we read here, becomes a refreshment to the heart, through the thoughtful tenderness of God's ways. After her long humiliation because of her unworthy self-seeking, He was glad to pity her and give her the son she had wanted so much. Then she said, God has taken away my reproach. Despite her proud manner, she knew she was under chastening.
Her reproach was that she had no children. That is where God has often begun.
She shared her reproach with many a woman whom God raised up to be a channel of blessing to His people. She is barren. Like Sarah, like Hannah, like Rebekah, there is nothing of nature's energy and nothing of nature's strength in her at all. Perfectly desolate, perfectly helpless. Her own deep sense of this may well have stirred her soul and prepared her for God to make His will known to her. We see the same in Hannah: she was so concerned before God about her need that He could meet it and answer the request of her soul.
The chapters around this verse are full of rivalry and scheming. Against that background, Rachel's answered longing stands out.
How badly everything has sunk morally from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. What a scene of selfishness, jealousy and craft! Only one green spot is in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard. All the rest is misery and flesh, only just chastisement and discipline from God.
Here Rachel says "God". In the very next verse she uses the name Jehovah — the name the ESV prints as "the LORD". Some have argued that shifts like this prove Genesis was stitched together from different writers.
It is Jehovah in Genesis 29 and God in Genesis 30:2-23, yet in the next verse (24) Rachel says not God, but Jehovah; and it is the same in verses 27 and 30. The notion of different writers is mere fancy, explains nothing, and blocks all proper enquiry into the divine motive for the change of name.
The change of name is not random. It tracks a change in Rachel herself.
In sovereign power God remembered Rachel. She not only confesses that the God of creation had taken away her reproach, but calls her son Joseph, saying that Jehovah will add to her another son. Rachel rose from the thought of His power to the recognition of His ways with His own.
Rachel did not stop with the son she had been given. The name she chose for him looks ahead.
Rachel shows the way of faith on this same occasion. She calls her son "Joseph", that is, "adding". She was certain that the Lord, who had now begun His mercies towards her, would go on with them and complete them. Faith in our hearts and on our lips speaks in the same spirit today: "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" From His gifts Rachel drew a plea to ask Him for still more. With bolder, happier faith she also drew a conclusion: she could trust Him for still more.
The son given to end her shame also points beyond her.
Jacob loved Rachel first, yet he had to wait for her and serve another week after Leah was given to him. This surely bears on the Lord's relation to Israel, loved first, while meanwhile the slighted Gentile has been put in her place, with rich results in His grace. God at last remembers Rachel. He takes away her reproach by adding a son to her, Joseph — a picture of One glorified among the Gentiles, who delivers His Jewish brothers after suffering among both Jews and Gentiles.
- Chastened. Her own word "reproach" shows she knew her barren years were God's discipline, not bad luck.
- Remembered. God remembered her, and the shame went. The One who withheld is the One who gives.
- Emptied first. Like Sarah, Rebekah and Hannah, she had none of nature's strength. God has often made such women a channel of blessing.
- Enlarged. She names the boy "adding" and asks for more. One gift from God is faith's ground for expecting the next.
- Christ. The son who ends her reproach pictures Christ. He is glorified among the Gentiles and delivers His own brothers after suffering at the hands of both.
And she called his name Joseph; and said, Jehovah will add to me another son.
Rachel had waited a long time for a child. Her son is born, and she names him for a second son she does not yet have. The name Joseph means "adding." That one word opens up her faith, God's dealings with her, and the Christ this son pictures.
The gift comes after a long humbling, and Rachel's own words admit it. She had carried her childlessness as a disgrace. God pitied her and took it away.
Rachel at last, as we read here, gives the heart something refreshing: the considerate tenderness of God's ways. After her long humiliation because of her unworthy self-seeking, He was pleased to pity her and give her the son she had longed for. Then she said, God has taken away my reproach. Despite her proud bearing, she knew she was under chastisement. The name she gave her firstborn is striking, for Joseph means He will add. As she said, Jehovah will add to me another. Her faith saw in Joseph the promise of Benjamin. Never before had she reached this level of expectation.
Up to this point Rachel had spoken of God only in the general title Elohim — "God has judged me." Here she uses Jehovah, the covenant name rendered "the LORD." One writer marks that switch as the moment grace softened her heart.
Rachel here, even in her special circumstances, has no thought of Jehovah's ways. It is "Elohim has judged me," and so all through, until grace softens her heart. Then she says, in faith, "Jehovah will add." Joseph is the promise of Benjamin.
Translations differ. The ESV reads a prayer — "May the LORD add." Older versions read a statement of faith — "Jehovah will add." Either way, her words look forward: because God has begun to give, she counts on Him to give again. Faith today reasons the same way.
The way of faith shows in Rachel on this same occasion. She calls her son "Joseph," that is, "adding." She was sure that the Lord, who had now begun His mercies towards her, would go on with them and complete them. So faith now in our hearts and on our lips says, in the same spirit, "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" From His gifts, Rachel not only drew a reason to ask Him for still more, but in bolder, happier faith drew the conclusion to trust Him for still more.
Commentators read Joseph as a type of Christ — a picture of Him. But he carries only half the picture. Joseph shows suffering first, then glory. The second son Rachel asked for fills out the rest.
Joseph is plainly a type of Christ… Yet Joseph gives us only one side of the truth about Christ — that He was a Sufferer before being exalted. This is most important for us all to learn first. Only then are we in any condition to appreciate the truth seen in Benjamin. He is a type of Christ as the Son of the Father's right hand, glorified and exalted to the throne, reigning in glory.
If the name means "adding," what does Christ add? One writer answers from the cross.
He adds to heaven's inhabitants. He says, in John 12:24, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." He refers here to His death. "Much fruit" is the result. And it is all to be gathered at last into the heavenly barn.
Rachel did get her second son. The cost was more than she could see at the time. Yet the faith in her asking is not forgotten.
He who remembered the barren woman and gave her a son will also remember, in that day, the faith that counted on Jehovah's boundless power and goodwill. That faith said, "The Lord shall add to me another son."
Kelly sets the sober note beside it.
How little she knew that Benjamin — son of his father's right hand — would be Benoni, son of his mother's sorrow; for his birth would prove her death. How much better to trust unfailing love and wisdom than to set the heart on any object here below!
- Remembered. God's pity, not Rachel's efforts, took away her reproach. Her own word shows she knew she had been under chastisement.
- Renamed. Grace softened her heart. She stops saying "God has judged me" and starts saying "Jehovah will add."
- Reasoned. Her faith argues forward. Because God has begun to give, He will keep giving. Faith today reasons the same way from the gift of God's own Son.
- Reaching. Joseph means "adding," and Christ adds. His death gathers much fruit into heaven's barn.
- Restrained. The second son came, and cost her life. Better to trust unfailing love and wisdom than to set the heart on any object here below.
And it came to pass when Rachel had borne Joseph, that Jacob said to Laban, Send me away, that I may go to my place and to my country.
Joseph's birth marks a turning point in Jacob's long stay with Laban: as soon as Rachel bears a son, Jacob asks to go home. Why should one child's arrival change a man's whole outlook — and why, having asked, does he not leave?
Jacob has to ask, because in Haran he is a servant in another man's house. The son born to him changes how that life feels.
As soon as Jacob receives Joseph, the child of promise, the son of his beloved Rachel, he speaks of leaving Padan, the place of his exile and bondage. See Gen. 30:25-26. Simple as this seems, it has character in it. The condition of an alien and servant did not suit him once he had the seed that showed him the power of God on his behalf. He may have felt, almost by instinct, that it was now right for him to assert his freedom and to think of his home and his inheritance.
Jacob asks to go to his own home and country — older translations read "my own place." Those words point to the land of God's promise, not to Haran. One writer draws a rule from this that reaches far beyond Jacob.
In verse 25, we find that the birth of Joseph helped to lift Jacob himself to a higher level. As a result, his mind turned to the land that was his according to God's purpose, and he wanted to go back there. We may take it as a rule, true in every age, that the divine purpose becomes all-important to the believer who enters into communion with God. Jacob realized afresh that there was a country he could call "my own place."
The verse dates Jacob's move to the day Rachel bore Joseph. The name she gave the boy tells its own story.
Rachel shows the way of faith on the same occasion. She calls her son "Joseph," that is, "adding." She was sure that the Lord, who had now begun His mercies towards her, would go on with them and complete them. In the same spirit, faith in our hearts and on our lips says today, "He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him graciously give us all things?" From His gifts Rachel drew more than a plea to ask Him for still more. In bolder, happier faith she drew the conclusion that she could trust Him for still more.
This is a real change of heart, but one writer is careful not to overstate it. Jacob's schooling was far from over.
The needed discipline was not ended: Jacob had yet to learn more of himself under the good dealings of God. His life still bore a sadly mixed crop. But from here we see his heart turn toward the land. He had long been an exile from it, through his mother's schemes and his own.
This was not a passing mood. Jacob's words fit the pattern of his whole time in Haran.
As soon as the purpose or hand of the Lord gives him his dismissal, he leaves. He leaves even though Laban's contract and God's blessing were making it profitable for him to stay. He leaves even though he might well judge that Esau's hatred waited for him if he dared to return. But so it was. With loss behind him and danger before him, he leaves. Indeed, such had been his purpose all along, from beginning to end.
Jacob asks, but he does not go. Laban does not want to lose him, and the delay costs Jacob dearly.
It is fitting that when Joseph is born, Jacob's thoughts turn toward his proper home in Canaan (v. 25). When the person of Christ dawns on the believer's vision, he begins to realize that he should be in God's place for him. However, when Jacob tells Laban that he means to leave, Laban does not want to lose the service of his son-in-law... If Jacob had insisted on leaving then, he and Laban would have parted on better terms than they did later.
- Gift. A son from God changed how Jacob saw Haran. Life as an alien and a servant no longer suited him once he held the proof of God's power for him.
- Longing. Nearness to God turns the heart toward God's purpose. Jacob realized afresh that he had a country of his own.
- Faith. Rachel named her son "adding." She took one mercy as the promise of more, and made God's gifts a reason to trust Him for still more.
- Delay. Jacob asked but did not insist. Laban's unwillingness kept him there, and the parting later was far worse.
- Home. Jacob always meant to return. He left with loss behind him and danger ahead: home mattered more than profit or safety.
Give [me] my wives for whom I have served thee, and my children; that I may go away, for thou knowest my service which I have served thee.
Joseph has just been born. With that birth, Jacob turns to Laban, the father-in-law who has used him, cheated him and grown rich on his work. He asks to be let go, with the wives and children he has already paid for in labour. His words raise three questions. What is his? What has his service earned? And where does he belong?
Jacob had spent long years in Syria. He grew rich there, and Laban cheated him there. Commentators tie his sudden ask to the son Rachel had just borne.
He is the victim of deception. He finds that others besides himself can drive hard bargains. Yet despite all this, a clear faith holds the man to the promises of God. Even his prosperity does not make him lose sight of them. And when Joseph is born — a picture of Christ in a marked and distinct way, as we shall soon see — a longing takes hold of Jacob. He wants to be back in the land of promise, where God will give the blessings of His covenant, and where God Himself had promised to give him his inheritance.
Jacob is asking to be let go. One writer reads it as the moment Jacob stopped accepting life as a servant.
As soon as Joseph is given to him — the child of promise, the son of his beloved Rachel — Jacob speaks of leaving Padan, the place of his exile and slavery. Simple as this looks, there is character in it. Life as a foreigner and a servant no longer suited him, once he had the son who showed him God's power working for him. He may have felt, almost by instinct, that it was now right for him to claim his freedom, and to turn his thoughts to his home and his inheritance.
Jacob was far from Canaan, yet he calls it his own place. God's purpose is why he can say that. One writer draws a wider rule from it.
The birth of Joseph helped to lift Jacob to a higher level. As a result, his mind turned to the land that was his by God's purpose, and he wanted to go back there. We may take it as a given, true in every age, that when a believer comes into communion with God, God's purpose becomes the most important thing to him. Jacob realized afresh that there was a country he could call "my own place."
Jacob asks for his family as wages he has earned. The prophet Hosea sums up those years the same way, and one writer sees God's hand in them.
As the prophet Hosea puts it, Jacob fled into the field of Aram, and Israel served for a wife, and for a wife he kept sheep. He became an exile from the land of promise, cheated in a foreign land by his own relatives. That was the sad repayment for his own crooked ways. He had schemed to get what the Lord had already given him, and what the Lord would have secured for him in His own holy way of faithfulness and truth.
Jacob can point Laban to what Laban himself knows. One writer looks at how Jacob behaved through those years.
He silently accepts the wrongs of a master who treated him badly. He serves with patience, and suffers without complaint… While he was in the house of the Syrian, Jacob knew that he was under the mighty hand of God for correction, and he behaved that way. He did not defend himself when people blamed him. He did not fight for his rights when he was wronged and treated unjustly.
Jacob asked, but he did not press it. Laban did not want to lose him, and Jacob agreed to stay.
Fittingly, when Joseph is born, Jacob's thoughts turn toward his proper home in Canaan. When the person of Christ dawns on a believer's sight, he begins to realize that he should be in the place God has for him. But when Jacob tells Laban that he means to leave, Laban does not want to lose his son-in-law's service… If Jacob had insisted on leaving then, he and Laban would have parted on better terms than they did later. But Jacob agreed to stay on terms that he himself suggested.
- Gift — Joseph's birth is the hinge. A fresh sign of God's power for him wakes Jacob's longing for the land of promise.
- Longing — communion with God makes God's purpose matter most. Only then could Jacob call a far-off country "my own place."
- Claim — life as a foreigner and servant no longer fitted a man who held the promised son, so he asked for his freedom.
- Cost — the wives and children were wages. Hosea sums up those years as serving and keeping sheep for a wife. They repaid Jacob's own crooked ways.
- Delay — he asked but did not insist, so he stayed with Laban. A clean break then would have ended better than what came later.
And Laban said to him, I pray thee, if I have found favour in thine eyes -- I have discovered that Jehovah has blessed me for thy sake.
After twenty years of service, and just after the birth of Joseph, Jacob asks Laban to let him go home. Laban will not release him, because he has worked out that his own wealth came with Jacob — which raises a question about how a believer lives among people who value him for what he brings.
The ESV has Laban say he "learned by divination." Other translations read only, "I have discovered." The Hebrew verb behind the phrase is tied to the words for a serpent and for an enchanter. One writer traces its two senses:
The word is connected with nachash, a "serpent." It is usually explained to mean a "hisser," or "whisperer," and then "a mutterer of enchantments." But the use of the verb seems to point another way. In Genesis 30, Laban begs Jacob to stay with him. "For," he says, "I divine [or, more exactly, perceive by observation] that the Lord has blessed me for your sake."… So the verb seems to have been used first of drawing a conclusion from quick observation, and later of divining.
So Laban either read omens or worked it out by watching. Some render it plainly: he "has learned by experience that the Lord has blessed him through Jacob's presence there, and does not want to lose this."
Laban's compliment was also a business decision:
Laban delayed Jacob, as it turned out, for six years. He was a shrewd man, and he recognised that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wanted to keep that blessing, and he was willing to let Jacob set his own wages. So there followed another battle of wits, and this time Jacob, not Laban, gained the advantage.
The truth of Laban's confession is beyond dispute. Even years later, when his sons grumbled that Jacob had taken everything, the question stood: "after all, what was Laban's substance before Jacob appeared on the scene?"
The pattern did not stop with Laban:
Both Jacob and Laban recognised that the Lord had done this. Since that time God has blessed many Gentile nations through the presence of Israelites among them, after Israel was scattered among the nations.
Later in Genesis the same thing happens to Joseph in Egypt, and it becomes a calling:
So Joseph became a source of blessing in the house of the Gentile: "From the time that he made him overseer in his house, and over all that he had, the Lord blessed the Egyptian's house for Joseph's sake"… The Christian is not only called to blessing but, as he goes on his way, to be a blessing.
Jacob stayed and named his own terms. The bargaining that followed showed the two men to be more alike than different:
The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban, and both strain every nerve to outwit each other. We cannot wonder at Laban, for he had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven… he had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of the Lord. No wonder, then, that he showed a grasping, grovelling spirit; he had no other resource. It is useless to expect anything from worldly men but a worldly spirit… But it is especially humbling to find Jacob, after all he had seen and heard at Bethel, struggling with a man of the world and trying by such means to pile up property.
Jacob's reply ends with a fair question about providing for his family. But its timing shows where his heart was:
Of course it is right for a man to provide for his own house. Yet at the time Jacob was more concerned for his own house than for the house of God. Most of us put our own house first. Years passed before God told Jacob to return to Bethel ("the house of God"), where he had made his vow.
- Presence. God blessed Laban's flocks because Jacob was there — the blessing followed the man, not the owner.
- Perception. Laban worked it out, by omens or by plain watching — the Hebrew verb can mean either.
- Reach. The pattern runs on: God blessed whole nations through His scattered people, and He calls Christians to carry blessing, not only to receive it.
- Pressure. The world's praise is a trap — Laban's offer held Jacob six more years and set two bargainers straining to outwit each other.
- Priority. Jacob asked when he would provide for his own house; the house of God at Bethel waited years longer. Most of us keep the same order.
And he said, Appoint to me thy wages, and I will give it.
After twenty years in Haran, Jacob asks to go home, and Laban answers with a blank cheque: name your own price. The offer sounds generous, but Laban has just admitted that Jacob is the reason he prospers — so who is really being served?
Laban is not offering a gift. One commentator points out the sense the word "give" can carry in Scripture:
"Give," as it is sometimes used in Scripture, means to award: compare Genesis 30:28; Exodus 2:9.
Laban lets Jacob set his own contract. He has worked out what Jacob's presence is worth to him.
Laban was a shrewd man and recognized that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wished to retain that blessing, and was prepared to allow Jacob to settle his own wages. As a result there followed a further battle of wits, and this time Jacob and not Laban gained the advantage.
Laban had watched God at work in his own household for two decades. It changed nothing in him.
Laban was a thorough man of the world when Jacob entered his house, and he was the same when Jacob left it. In all his dealings, from first to last, he had his eye on his own advantage. He has to admit that the hand of God was with Jacob. But he would use that hand, through Jacob, to serve himself, and turn Jacob's interest in God to his own account. For twenty years he saw the hand of the Lord, and the working of His grace and power, in his own house, and that every day. Yet he remained a man of the world still.
Jacob had already said he wanted to leave. Laban's counter-offer was the test, and Jacob stayed — at a cost he could not yet see.
If Jacob had insisted on leaving then, he and Laban would have parted on less unpleasant terms than they did later. But Jacob agreed to stay on terms that he himself suggested.
What follows is not a tale of one honest man and one crook. Both men bargain, and Jacob slips into it with ease.
It is remarkable to see how he gets back into an atmosphere so entirely suited to his moral make-up. The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban, and both strain every nerve to outwit each other. Nor can we wonder at Laban, for he had never been at Bethel: he had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth; he had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of the Lord... It is useless to expect from worldly men anything but a worldly spirit, and worldly principles and ways... But Jacob had seen and heard all this at Bethel. To find him struggling with a man of the world, and trying by such means to build up property, is especially humbling.
Laban offered to let Jacob name the wages. The final account came out the opposite way to what he wanted.
Laban's greedy wish to profit by Jacob's strange bargain ended in making the self-occupied master poor, and the long-defrauded servant richer and richer. Laban shows no regret for the advantage he had taken of his nephew, and not the least caring affection for his daughters or their children. It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go in its way, to repay the evil-doer and recompense the sufferer.
Jacob's years of service were paid work, and spent where God did not want him. Another Servant stands in contrast.
For his two wives he served fourteen years, but only six years for the cattle. And he was not in the place where God would have him. See the contrast with the Bridegroom who longs deeply for the bride, yet is content to be cut off and have nothing! — refusing to serve the world for hire — content to be a stranger to His brothers... loving the wages of righteousness, having a right to all, yet taking none, so that He might receive all in resurrection.
- The offer. Laban tells Jacob to fix his own wages — "give" here meaning to award or settle a price, not to hand over a gift.
- The motive. Laban watched God bless his house through Jacob for twenty years and did not change. He wanted the hand of God only as long as it paid him.
- The bargain. Jacob does not refuse the game; he plays it. The man who had seen heaven opened at Bethel matches a worldly man move for move.
- The wages. The bargain meant to enrich Laban stripped him instead. It enriched the servant he had cheated — repayment, as far as such repayment can go.
- The contrast. Christ would not serve the world for hire. He took nothing, was cut off with nothing, and received everything in resurrection.
And he said to him, Thou knowest how I have served thee, and what thy cattle has become with me.
Jacob has served Laban for fourteen years. After Joseph's birth he asks to go home to his own country. Laban does not want to lose him, so he tells Jacob to name his wages. Jacob answers by pointing to the record of his service.
Jacob does not start with a demand. He starts with facts his employer cannot deny, and both men trace the increase to the same source.
He first pointed to what Laban had already admitted. Jacob had served him faithfully. Laban had little when Jacob came, yet his flock of sheep grew greatly (v. 39). Both men recognized that the Lord had done this. Since that time God has blessed many non-Jewish nations through the presence of Israelites among them, after Israel was scattered among the nations.
Jacob asks to leave just after Joseph is born. One writer sees weight in that timing, and thinks Jacob should have held to his plan.
When Joseph is born, Jacob's thoughts turn toward his proper home in Canaan (v. 25). When Christ becomes real to a believer's sight, he begins to realize that he should be in the place God has for him. But when Jacob tells Laban he means to leave, Laban does not want to lose his son-in-law's service. He says he has learned from experience that the Lord has blessed him through Jacob's presence, and he does not want to lose this (v. 27). If Jacob had insisted on leaving then, he and Laban would have parted on better terms than they did later (Gen. 31:25-55). But Jacob agreed to stay on terms that he himself suggested.
Laban's offer to let Jacob set his own wages is not generosity. He knows where his prosperity comes from and means to keep it.
Laban, however, pushed into the matter, and in the end his thoughts won out. He held Jacob back, as it turned out, for six years. Laban was a shrewd man and recognized that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wished to keep that blessing, and was prepared to let Jacob settle his own wages. As a result there followed a further battle of wits, and this time Jacob and not Laban gained the advantage.
Jacob's claim about his service is true. But those same years were years of correction, and his patience under Laban points to something real in him.
Jacob was a man of faith, but he failed in spirituality. So he comes under the Lord's discipline, to bear more fruit and better fruit. As he had cheated at home, he suffered abroad, and most of all at the hands of his mother's brother. His patience under Laban's hardhearted wrongs testifies that he bowed to God. He could now bear to be lifted up by slow degrees. And the story of divine retribution recorded here is the turning-point.
The same writer weighs both men together, and finds neither of them innocent of the atmosphere they created.
As the married life of Isaac and Rebekah was very different from that of Jacob with his wives and their maids, so the way Abram behaved toward Lot stands in sharp contrast with the way Jacob and Laban behaved. We are now in a far more cloudy atmosphere, though in the main Jacob was a faithful servant, and Laban deceitful and selfish. But God is not mocked, even in the day when evil is allowed to work its dark way until judgment returns to righteousness.
Jacob spoke the truth about his work. Then he secured his wages by a trick of his own, and one writer will not excuse it.
Jacob served for wages. Another writer sets that beside Christ, who had a right to all and took none.
For his two wives he served twice seven years, but only six years for the cattle. And with all this he was not in the place where God would have him. See the contrast with the Bridegroom! He longed greatly for the bride, yet was content to be cut off and have nothing. He refused to serve the world for hire. He was content to be a stranger to His brothers, a foreigner to His mother's children. He served His Father in the appointed place, and truly profited the world. He became obedient to death. He loved the wages of righteousness, having a right to all, yet taking none, so that He might receive all in resurrection.
- Service. Jacob's appeal rests on a record Laban cannot dispute: years of faithful work, and a flock that grew from little into a multitude.
- Blessing. Both men trace that growth to the Lord, not to management. God later blessed other nations the same way, through Israel living among them.
- Grip. Laban lets Jacob name his own wages out of shrewdness, not kindness. He wanted to keep the blessing he had spotted.
- Discipline. The man who cheated at home suffered abroad. His patience under wrong shows he bowed to God, and this is the turning-point of his story.
- Warning. Jacob spoke honestly, then secured his pay by craft — the world's way of righting a wrong, not God's. Christ served on other terms: a right to all, yet taking none.
For it was little that thou hadst before me, and it is increased to a multitude, and Jehovah has blessed thee from the time I came; and now, when shall I also provide for my house?
Twenty years of shepherding stand behind these words. Jacob sets out what Laban owned before he came and what Laban owns now. He credits the growth to God, then asks when he will provide for his own family.
Jacob's first argument is the size of Laban's herds. Both men traced the growth to the same source, and that pattern outlasted Jacob himself.
He first stressed what Laban had already admitted. Jacob had served him faithfully, so that though Laban had little when Jacob came, his flock of sheep grew greatly (v. 39). Both of them recognised that the Lord had done this. Since then God has blessed many nations outside Israel through the Israelites living among them, after Israel was scattered among the nations.
Laban had worked out the same arithmetic, and it shaped what he did next.
Laban, however, broke into the question, and in the end his thoughts won out. He delayed Jacob, as it turned out, for six years. Laban was a shrewd man, and he saw that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wanted to keep that blessing, and he was willing to let Jacob set his own wages. As a result there followed a further battle of wits, and this time Jacob, not Laban, gained the advantage.
The closing question of the verse is not wrong in itself. A man ought to care for his family. The problem lies in what it crowded out.
Then Jacob asks, "When shall I provide for my own household also?" Certainly it is right for a man to provide for his own house. Yet Jacob was at the time more concerned for his own house than he was for the house of God. Most of us put our own house first. Some years passed before God told Jacob to return to Bethel ("the house of God"), where he had made his vow (Gen. 31:13).
Jacob's flocks did grow. His home life did not improve with them, and the name God later used of Himself shows why.
The title "the God of Bethel" is of very real importance, for it means "God of the house of God." Jacob had been concerned about his own house (Gen. 30:30), allowing the claims of God's house to wait. But the growth of Jacob's house had not brought peace and happiness into all his relationships. It was time for him to learn that true contentment is found only in connection with God's house, where God's interests come first.
Jacob's trust in God had a boundary, and this verse marks it.
He could well believe that the Lord would bless others, but as for his own house, he himself must provide for that. Through it all, and in spite of it all, the unseen God heard the desire of Jacob's heart and gave him his fill. Yet in his own thought he had done it all, with God little known or acknowledged.
Jacob asked when he would provide for his own household. The answer came from God's hand, not his own.
When the words of Laban's sons and the looks of Laban himself showed their discontent, the Lord told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers. God's providence paid Jacob in some five or six years what Laban had cheated him out of over twenty. They really wanted to get rid of Jacob, but shrank from saying so. After all, what was Laban's property before Jacob appeared on the scene?
The verse raises a question still asked today: who should benefit from a faithful worker's labour?
Jacob did the hard work of caring for Laban's flocks for twenty years. Laban had sons who could have helped with this work, but it seems they left the work to the one man who could do it well. Were Laban and his sons all sharing the benefits of Jacob's work without having to work themselves? It seemed this was the case. Employers often think they have the right to take every benefit that labour produces, because they put up the original money. But God takes account of the guilt of employers who oppress their workers (James 5:4).
- Service. Jacob worked twenty years for Laban. Both men admitted that Laban's small holding grew large because the Lord blessed it.
- Overflow. God's people bring blessing into the homes they serve. Israel did the same among the nations after being scattered.
- Grip. Laban saw that blessing, wanted to keep it, and used the wage question to hold Jacob six more years.
- Priority. Providing for your own house is right. Putting it before God's house is the mistake. Jacob's growing flocks never bought him peace at home.
- Repayment. Jacob trusted God to bless another man's house, but provided for his own by himself. God still repaid in five or six years the wages Laban had withheld for twenty.
And he said, What shall I give thee? And Jacob said, Thou shalt not give me anything. If thou doest this for me, I will again feed [and] keep thy flock
Jacob has asked to leave. Laban knows this shepherd is the reason he has prospered, so he lets Jacob fix his own pay. Jacob asks for nothing and offers to keep tending the flock. Is that the boldness of faith, or the first move of a shrewd man?
Laban's offer was not generosity. It was calculation.
Laban, however, broke into the question, and in the end his thoughts won. He delayed Jacob, as it turned out, for six years. Laban was a shrewd man and recognized that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wished to keep that blessing, and was prepared to let Jacob settle his own wages. As a result there followed a further battle of wits, and this time Jacob and not Laban gained the advantage.
What Jacob asked for next explains why Laban agreed.
Jacob suggested wages that seemed very low. He asked for only the speckled and spotted sheep and goats and the black lambs. The normally coloured sheep and goats would therefore all belong to Laban. Laban saw himself as having the great advantage in this bargain. In this there is no doubt that Jacob wanted to show he was depending on God to give him what He wanted Jacob to have. The element of faith in God was certainly there. We know that God answered such faith. Yet we see later that his faith was weak. He resorted to human trickery in trying to make the sheep produce as he wished.
Commentators differ on how much credit Jacob deserves here. Some see faith; others look hard at the method he chose.
God did step in graciously for His injured servant. Even so, we could not imagine either his father or his grandfather using the kind of scheme Jacob used to get the fruit of his long and patient service, which was owed to him. Yet God stooped to use what, without His power, would have been, if not useless, then very limited.
Others see the whole deal as one more display of his name. Jacob means "supplanter" — one who trips a man up and takes his place.
The closing verses of this chapter reveal the device he used. It increased his flocks at Laban's expense. We notice how true he still is to his name — meaning Supplanter.
Laban had cheated him for years. That still did not settle how Jacob should answer.
Using counter-tricks to reverse the situation is quite the way of the world, but it is not according to God. If Jacob had rested with confidence in God, and not used the devices described in this chapter, the end God purposed would still have been reached, and his righteousness would have answered for him in a much more convincing way.
His offer to keep the flock again was not empty. Long and patient service stood behind it, and God was at work on the man himself all through it.
Jacob was a man of faith, but he failed in spirituality. So he comes under the Lord's discipline, to make him bear more fruit and better fruit. As he had cheated at home, he suffered abroad, and most of all at the hands of his mother's brother. His patience under Laban's hardhearted wrongs shows that he bowed to God. He could now bear to be lifted up by slow degrees. And the story of divine retribution recorded here is the turning point.
Grasping for the whole flock cost Laban the flock.
Laban greedily hoped to profit by Jacob's strange bargain. Instead it left the self-absorbed master poor, and gave the long-cheated servant new and growing wealth.
Set beside Christ, Jacob's bargain looks small. He gave up a wage, but not the world's service.
See the contrast with the Bridegroom longing greatly for the bride, yet content to be cut off and have nothing! — refusing to serve the world for hire — content to be a stranger to His brothers, a foreigner to His mother's children. He served His Father in the appointed place. He truly benefited the world. He became obedient to death. He loved the wages of righteousness. He had a right to everything, yet took nothing, so that He might receive all in resurrection.
Yet one detail points forward. Jacob chose the least valued animals as his wage.
The servant is willing to take the speckled and spotted of the flock as his pay. Christ is willing to accept what the world despises.
- The bait. Laban knew Jacob's presence brought him blessing. He let Jacob name his own wage to keep the profit, and a battle of wits followed.
- The wage. Jacob asked for nothing but the speckled and spotted. It looked like a poor deal, and Laban thought he had won.
- The faith. Depending on God to hand him what God wanted him to have was real faith, and God answered it.
- The flaw. The faith slipped into trickery. Jacob used a scheme his father and grandfather never needed. Had he simply trusted God, the same end would have come, and far more convincingly.
- The contrast. Jacob served the world for hire. Christ refused hire. He had a right to everything, took nothing, and receives all in resurrection.
I will pass through all thy flock to-day, to remove thence all the speckled and spotted sheep, and all the brown lambs, and the spotted and speckled among the goats; and [that] shall be my hire.
Jacob wanted to leave Laban, but Laban kept him and let him name his own pay. He asked only for the odd-marked animals in a flock of mostly plain ones — trust in God, or one more clever move?
Jacob had asked to leave. Laban had his own reason for keeping him.
Laban, however, pushed into the question, and in the end his thoughts won. He delayed Jacob, as it turned out, for six years. Laban was a shrewd man and recognised that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wished to keep that blessing, and was prepared to let Jacob set his own wages. As a result there followed a further battle of wits, and this time Jacob and not Laban gained the advantage.
The terms Jacob names sound almost too modest. One writer reads real trust in that.
Jacob suggested wages that seemed to be very low, asking for only the speckled and spotted sheep and goats and the black lambs. The normally coloured sheep and goats would therefore all belong to Laban. Laban saw himself as having the great advantage in this bargain (vv. 32-34). There is no doubt that Jacob wanted to show he was depending on God to give him what He wanted him to have. Faith in God was certainly there. We know that God answered such faith. Yet we see later that his faith was weak when he turned to human tricks in trying to make the sheep produce as he wanted (vv. 37-42).
Commentators differ on how much faith to grant Jacob here. Another writer finds no trust in this bargain at all. Jacob's name means supplanter — one who takes another's place by craft.
Jacob cannot allow God to settle the question as to his wives and his wages, but tries to settle everything by his own cunning and management. In short, it is "the supplanter" throughout. Turn, for example, to Gen. 30:37-42, and say where you can find a more skilful piece of cunning. It is a perfect picture of Jacob.
Whatever Jacob's motives, the bargain did not decide the outcome.
Laban's greedy desire to profit by Jacob's strange bargain ended up impoverishing the self-occupied master. Meanwhile the long-defrauded servant gained new and growing wealth. Laban shows no regret for the advantage he had taken of his nephew. He shows not the least caring affection for his daughters or their children either. It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go in its way, to repay the evil-doer and to make up to the sufferer.
One writer sees more in the choice of the speckled and spotted than a shepherd's sums.
The servant is willing to take the speckled and spotted of the flock for his hire — Christ is willing to accept what the world despises.
Another writer sets Jacob's years of hired service beside Christ.
See the contrast with the Bridegroom! He longed deeply for the bride, yet He was content to be cut off and have nothing. He refused to serve the world for hire. He was content to be a stranger to His brothers, a foreigner to His mother's children. He served His Father in the appointed place, and so truly profited the world. He became obedient to death. He loved the wages of righteousness. He had a right to all, yet He took none, so that He might receive all in resurrection.
- Bargain. Jacob asked only for the speckled, spotted and black animals. The pay looked so small that Laban thought he had the better deal.
- Faith. Naming so little showed Jacob leaning on God to supply what He wanted him to have. God answered that faith.
- Flesh. The same man later turned to tricks with the flocks — the supplanter, settling by his own cunning what he could have left to God.
- Reversal. Laban's greed in agreeing emptied him. The long-cheated servant grew rich — a righteous repayment of the wrongdoer.
- Christ. The despised part of the flock pictures what Christ is content to receive. Unlike Jacob, He refused to serve the world for hire. He took nothing, so that He might receive all in resurrection.
And my righteousness shall answer for me hereafter, when thou comest about my hire, before thy face all that is not speckled and spotted among the goats, and brown among the lambs, let that be stolen with me.
Jacob has just named his wages: he will take only the odd-coloured animals from Laban's flock. He then stakes his good name on a test anyone could run.
Jacob invited a future check: any plain animal found with him would count as stolen. On the face of it he asked for very little. Odd-coloured animals were few, and the rest of the flock stayed with Laban.
Jacob asked for wages that looked very low: only the speckled and spotted sheep and goats, and the black lambs. All the normally coloured sheep and goats would then belong to Laban. That share was small indeed, and Laban saw himself as having the great advantage in this bargain. There is no doubt that Jacob wanted to show he was depending on God to give him what He wanted Jacob to have. Faith in God was surely there, and we know God answered such faith. Yet we see later that his faith was weak, for he used human tricks to try to make the sheep breed as he wished.
The ESV says "my honesty"; older translations, which the writers below quote, read "my righteousness." Jacob wants the flock itself to speak for him later. Yet the standard he sets exposes his own. Laban had wronged him for years, and Jacob's answer was to out-manoeuvre him.
About this matter Jacob had said to Laban, "So shall my righteousness answer for me in time to come." That seems to show he had a rather low idea of what is right in the sight of God. Laban had clearly taken advantage of him in the past. But to use counter-tricks to turn the tables is the way of the world, not the way of God.
Commentators differ here. Another writer sees craft from the start: the offer would pay Jacob far better than any wage Laban would have named.
In their last agreement Jacob made an offer that, if Laban accepted it, his craft would make far more profitable than any wages Laban would give. It was one of his meanest schemes. But notice his lack of conscience: "So shall my righteousness answer for me in time to come." Laban is completely fooled. He jumps at the offer, but soon finds out his mistake.
The check Jacob invited never had to clear his name. The deal did turn in his favour — but not by Jacob's own management.
We are now allowed to see how God stepped in and made the agreement about the spotted and speckled cattle work in Jacob's favour. In the light of this, our thought would be this. If he had rested with confidence in God, and not used the tricks described in the last chapter, God would still have reached the end He purposed. And his "righteousness" would have answered for him far more convincingly.
Laban cheated Jacob again and again over twenty years of service. Repayment came quickly at the end, and it came from God.
In some five or six years God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years. Laban and his sons wanted to be rid of Jacob, but would not say so. After all, what did Laban own before Jacob came on the scene?
One writer reads the arrangement as a picture of Christ. The servant asks for the animals nobody wants, and that is what later stirs up his master's anger.
The servant is willing to take the speckled and spotted of the flock as his wages. So Christ is willing to accept what the world despises. But it becomes known that these animals grow strong and many by looking at the partly peeled rod — which may mean the word with its inner meaning partly opened. Then Laban's greed and hostility flare up. In the end he loses the man through whom he had received great wealth, and loses his wealth with him.
- The claim. Jacob invites Laban to check his flock. He calls the result his honesty, in a test set up so that only the odd-coloured animals can be his.
- The flaw. Answering a cheat with tricks of your own is the way of the world. It shows a low idea of what is right before God.
- The repayment. God's providence paid Jacob in five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty.
- The answer. God, not Jacob's skill, moved the flocks over to him. Had Jacob rested in God instead, his righteousness would have spoken for him far more convincingly.
- The greater Servant. Taking the despised part of the flock as wages pictures Christ. He accepts what the world throws away, and the world ends up poorer for losing Him.
And Laban said, Well, let it be according to thy word.
Jacob has just named his wages — only the speckled, spotted, and dark animals — and Laban agrees on the spot. Why did such a shrewd man accept so fast, and whose side was the deal on?
Laban did the arithmetic in his head and liked it. The animals Jacob asked for were the rare exceptions in the flock, which left the ordinary-coloured majority to Laban.
Jacob suggested wages that seemed to be very low, asking for only the speckled and spotted sheep and goats and the black lambs. The normally coloured sheep and goats would therefore all belong to Laban. Such a percentage for Jacob would seem to be low indeed, and Laban saw himself as having the great advantage in this bargain.
Laban had already worked out that Jacob's presence paid, which is why he let Jacob set his own price in the first place.
Laban was a shrewd man and recognized that Jacob's presence with him had brought blessing. He wished to retain that blessing, and was prepared to allow Jacob to settle his own wages. As a result there ensued a further battle of wits, and this time Jacob and not Laban gained the advantage.
Commentators differ on what was in Jacob's heart when he made the offer. Grant, in the passage quoted above, sees real trust in it — Jacob leaving the outcome to God rather than naming a guaranteed sum. Others read the same proposal as a trap Laban walked straight into, and they fasten on Jacob's confident talk about his own honesty.
In their last agreement Jacob made a proposition which if accepted would be made by his craft far more profitable than any wages Laban would give. It was one of his meanest schemes; but mark his want of conscience: "So shall my righteousness answer for me in time to come." Laban, quite deceived, eagerly embraces the proposal, but soon finds out his mistake.
That appeal to "my righteousness" is itself a warning sign to some readers.
Jacob had said to Laban, "So shall my righteousness answer for me in time to come." This seems to show that he had a low idea of what is right in the sight of God. It was quite clear that Laban had taken advantage of him in the past. But to use counter-tricks to reverse the situation is the way of the world, not the way of God.
Laban's "Good!" was the sound of greed closing on bait. The years that followed reversed the two men's fortunes completely.
Laban's covetous desire to profit by Jacob's strange bargain turned to the impoverishing of the self-occupied master, and the new and growing affluence of the long defrauded servant. Neither compunction appears on Laban's part for the advantage he had taken of his nephew, nor the least considerate affection for his daughters or their children. It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go in its way, to requite the evil-doer and recompense the sufferer.
Jacob went on to help the bargain along with peeled rods at the watering troughs. Looking back from chapter 31, where God tells Jacob it was He who transferred the flocks, one writer draws the obvious conclusion about the whole arrangement.
We are now permitted to see how God had intervened and caused the agreement as to the spotted and speckled cattle to work in his favour. In the light of this our reflection would be that if he had rested with confidence in God, and not used the devices related in the last chapter, the end God purposed would have been reached, and his "righteousness" would have answered for him in a much more convincing way.
None of this cancelled God's care for Jacob — though it does sit oddly beside the lives of the men before him.
Whatever the gracious intervention of God for His injured servant, we could not conceive either his father or his grandfather adopting such an expedient as Jacob employed to acquire the fruit of his long and patient service that was due. Yet God condescended to use what without His power had been, if not in vain, but very partial.
One writer traces that pattern through Jacob's whole life and finds grace in it.
It is in tracing out Jacob's real character, stage by stage of his remarkable history, that one gets a wonderful view of divine grace. Grace begins at the very lowest point. It takes man up as he is, and deals with him in full knowledge of what he is. Nothing matters more than to grasp this about grace at the very start. It lets us face, with a steady heart, the later discoveries of how vile we are — discoveries that so often shake the confidence and disturb the peace of God's children.
- Greed agrees. Laban said yes at once. The terms looked tilted his way: Jacob took the few odd-coloured animals, Laban kept the rest.
- Greed loses. The bargain he grabbed at made him poor and made the servant he had cheated rich — a fitting repayment of the wrongdoer.
- Greed meets craft. Commentators differ. Some see faith in Jacob's low asking price. Others hear a low standard of right in his talk of "my righteousness."
- God gives anyway. God Himself moved the flocks to Jacob. Had Jacob rested in that instead of using tricks, his claim to be right would have spoken for him far more clearly.
- Grace begins low. God still stooped to use a man whose methods his own father and grandfather would never have used. Grace starts at the lowest point, so it can steady you when you discover your own.
And he removed that day the he-goats that were ringstraked and spotted, and all the she-goats that were speckled and spotted, every one that had white in it, and all the brown among the lambs, and gave [them] into the hand of his sons.
Genesis 30 ends with a business deal between two men who each expect to outwit the other. Jacob has asked for the oddly-marked animals as his pay, and that same day Laban pulls every one of them out and hands them to his own sons.
Laban took two precautions. He pulled the marked animals out of the flock Jacob would tend, then put a wide gap between the two herds.
All the special class of sheep he left with his sons. Then he himself took all Laban's sheep a long distance from the others, a three days' journey (v. 36). This assured Laban that his sheep would not mix with any spotted or speckled ones. Since Laban's sheep were all a normal colour, it was not likely there would be many born for Jacob to claim.
The terms Jacob proposed sounded like a gift to his employer.
Jacob suggested wages that looked very low. He asked only for the speckled and spotted sheep and goats and the black lambs. The normally coloured sheep and goats would therefore all belong to Laban. Such a share for Jacob looked very small indeed. Laban saw himself as having the great advantage in this bargain (vv. 32-34). There is no doubt that Jacob wanted to show he was depending on God to give him what He wanted Jacob to have. Faith in God was certainly part of this.
Laban now treats Jacob as Jacob once treated others. One writer sees his years with Laban as measured repayment.
No doubt he often had to suffer from Laban's deceit. But was this not a reminder of the deceit he had used himself? Laban deceives him about his wife, about his wages, about everything. Yet how had Jacob dealt with his father, not to mention his brother? Deceit must meet with deceit under the retributive hands of God. Do not wonder too much at the story of Jacob. Bless with all your heart the God who shows Himself caring for His servant. After Jacob had suffered a while, God let him prosper slowly but surely.
Having said he would leave the outcome to God, Jacob then goes to work on the breeding of the flock himself.
True, God was with Jacob — for nothing can stop divine grace from shining out... Still nothing can be done without a scheme and a plan. Jacob cannot let God settle the question of his wives and his wages. He tries to settle everything by his own cunning and management. In short, it is "the supplanter" throughout. Turn, for example, to Genesis 30:37-42, and say where you can find a more skilful piece of cunning.
Jacob had offered his own honesty as the proof of the deal. One writer notes what he lost by not leaving the outcome with God.
Suppose he had rested with confidence in God, and had not used the tricks described in this chapter. God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have spoken for him far more convincingly.
Jacob's scheme was not what made him rich.
In about five or six years, God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years... He could truly say that even if Laban showed ill-will, the God of his father was with him. And if Laban tried to cheat him, God did not let him be harmed.
Jacob's tricks do not excuse his employer. One writer takes this straight to how employers treat workers today.
Jacob did the hard work of caring for Laban's flocks for twenty years. Laban had sons who could have helped with this work... Management often thinks it has a right to every benefit that labour produces, because management put up the money at the start. But God takes account of the guilt of management in the oppression of its employees (James 5:4).
Neither man in this chapter comes out well. Yet God did not walk away from Jacob.
None but God could have borne with such a man, as none but God would have taken such a man up. Grace begins at the very lowest point. It takes up man as he is, and deals with him in the full knowledge of what he is.
- Terms — Jacob asked for only the oddly-marked animals, a share so small that Laban thought he had won.
- Barrier — that same day Laban took out every marked animal and gave it to his sons. He then set three days' journey between the flocks, so Jacob's flock would breed few of them.
- Mirror — the deceiver was now the deceived. One writer sees Jacob's years under Laban as repayment for how he had treated his father and brother.
- Scheme — Jacob would not leave the result with God. He managed the breeding himself, and lost the clear proof of his honesty.
- Providence — God, not Jacob's scheme, moved the flocks from Laban to Jacob. He repaid twenty cheated years in about five or six, and His grace kept working with a man like this.
And he put three days' journey between himself and Jacob. And Jacob fed the rest of Laban's flock.
Laban answers Jacob's wage agreement by putting a three-day gap between the flocks. The marked animals go with his own sons. The rest stay in Jacob's care. The distance looks like plain caution. But it raises the question that runs through the chapter: who decides how a flock increases?
Laban had just pulled out every striped, speckled and spotted animal and handed them to his sons. That left Jacob tending a flock of plain colour, and the gap kept it that way.
All the special class of sheep he left with his sons. Then he himself took all Laban's sheep a long distance from the others, a matter of three days' journey (v. 36). That way Laban could be sure his sheep would not mix with any spotted or speckled. Since Laban's sheep were all a normal colour, not many were likely to be born for Jacob to claim. However, being so far away, Jacob could put into operation his cunning plan to make Laban's sheep bear striped, speckled or spotted lambs. He took fresh rods from trees, peeled strips of bark off them, and put them in front of the sheep when they came to drink (v. 38).
Jacob had asked for a share so small that Laban thought he was getting the better end of it. Commentators see something real in that. Jacob was leaving the outcome to God, though his trust did not hold for long.
Jacob suggested wages that seemed very low, asking only for the speckled and spotted sheep and goats and the black lambs... Laban saw himself as having the great advantage in this bargain (vv. 32-34). There is no doubt that Jacob wanted to show he was depending on God to give him what God wanted him to have. Faith in God was surely present here, and we know that God answered such faith. Yet we see later that his faith was weak. He turned to human scheming to make the sheep produce as he wanted (vv. 37-42).
The verse leaves Jacob pasturing the rest of Laban's flock, as he had for years. His uncle had wronged him again and again. Commentators read those years as God's discipline on Jacob's own past.
Jacob was a man of faith, but he failed in spirituality. He comes under the Lord's discipline so that he might bear more and better fruit. As he had cheated at home, he suffered abroad, and most of all at the hands of his mother's brother. His patience under Laban's hardhearted wrongs shows that he bowed to God.
Three days' distance also meant three days out of sight. The trap it set for Jacob is one we still fall into.
No doubt Laban was not aware of what Jacob was doing. Jacob wanted Laban to think he was only depending on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often this is true of us too! We persuade ourselves that we are walking by faith in God, while using our own wits to help God supply our needs.
The flocks did change hands, and Laban's family noticed. But the cause was not the one Jacob had worked for.
Laban, according to Jacob's complaint, changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle, and according to the complaint of Laban's sons he had "taken away all that was our father's." So the contest went on until God stepped in again in a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, not Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business, back to Canaan.
Laban underpaid Jacob for twenty years. God's repayment took far less time than the fraud did.
God's providence paid Jacob in about five or six years the wages that Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years.
Was the counter-scheme fair, given how Laban had treated him? One writer answers plainly.
It was quite clear that in the past Laban had taken advantage of him. But to use counter-devices in order to reverse the situation is quite the way of the world, and it is not according to God... if he had rested with confidence in God, and had not used the devices described in the last chapter, the end God purposed would still have been reached. And his "righteousness" would have answered for him in a far more convincing way.
- Distance — Laban's three-day gap was a safeguard. A plain-coloured flock would produce almost nothing for Jacob to claim.
- Dependence — the low wage Jacob named showed real trust that God would give him his portion. God answered that faith.
- Devices — out of sight, Jacob reached for peeled rods and his own tricks. He let everyone think he was leaving it to God.
- Deliverance — God, not the rods, moved the flocks. He repaid in a few years what fraud had withheld for twenty.
- Duty — Jacob never needed the devices. Resting in God would have reached the same end, and made his righteousness far more convincing.
And Jacob took fresh rods of white poplar, almond-tree, and maple; and peeled off white stripes in them, uncovering the white which was on the rods.
Jacob and Laban have struck a deal over the speckled and spotted animals in the flock. Here Jacob makes sure the deal pays. He cuts fresh branches, peels white streaks in them, and lays them where the flocks breed. Was this trust in God, or was Jacob scheming again?
The verse names the trees. Writers give the Hebrew name behind the first one, and explain what "fresh" means here:
The word is libneh. It was probably the white poplar (Populus alba) that Jacob used: it was "green" in the sense of being fresh, moist.
The second name has changed in English Bibles:
The word is luz, which is now thought to refer to the "almond," and is so translated in the Revised Version. Gen. 30:37.
The plan itself was simple, and it worked:
He took fresh rods from trees and peeled strips of bark off them. Then he put them in front of the sheep when they came to drink (v. 38). The sheep mated at this time, and the plan worked very well for Jacob. A very large number of striped, speckled or spotted lambs were born.
One writer finds here Jacob the supplanter at his most cunning:
There is no holy, lifted-up confidence in God here, no simply looking to Him and waiting on Him. True, God was with Jacob, for nothing can stop the shining out of divine grace… Still, nothing happens without a scheme and a plan. Jacob cannot let God settle the question of his wives and his wages. He tries to settle it all by his own cunning and management. In short, he is "the supplanter" all through. Look at Genesis 30:37-42, and say where you can find a cleverer piece of cunning.
Jacob wanted to look like a man leaving the outcome to God. The peeled rods told a different story:
No doubt Laban had no idea what Jacob was doing. Jacob wanted Laban to think he was only depending on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often this is true of us too! We persuade ourselves that we are walking by faith in God, while we use our own wits to help God supply our needs.
His hard years away from home were not random. What Jacob had done to others came back on him:
Jacob was a man of faith, but he failed in spiritual life. So he comes under the Lord's discipline, so that he might bear more fruit, and better fruit. As he had cheated at home, he suffered abroad, and at the hands of his mother's brother most of all.
God Himself made the agreement turn out in Jacob's favour. That leaves a plain lesson for anyone reading this chapter:
Now we are allowed to see how God stepped in and made the agreement about the spotted and speckled cattle work in Jacob's favour. In the light of this, our thought would be this. If he had rested with confidence in God, and had not used the tricks described in Genesis 30, God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have spoken for him in a much more convincing way.
There was a limit to what the scheme did. The trick Jacob used was one neither Abraham nor Isaac would have chosen, even though God acted kindly for His wronged servant (William Kelly).
after-note: DISCUSS
The chapter is humbling. Yet it also shows how grace works:
Grace begins at the very lowest point. It takes up man as he is, and deals with him in the full intelligence of what he is. It is vitally important to understand this feature of grace right at the start. It lets us face, with a steady heart, the later discoveries of how bad we really are — discoveries that so often shake the confidence and disturb the peace of the children of God.
- The wood — Jacob used fresh, moist branches — white poplar (libneh), luz (now read as almond), and plane.
- The work — he peeled white streaks into them and set them at the drinking troughs at breeding time. Large numbers of striped and spotted young came.
- The man — writers call the plan a piece of cunning. Jacob was scheming instead of waiting on God.
- The mirror — he had cheated at home, and abroad he was cheated. We too can tell ourselves we are trusting God while using our own wits.
- The outcome — God gave the increase anyway. If Jacob had rested in Him, the same end would have come. Grace begins at the lowest point, and it met him there.
And he set the rods which he had peeled before the flock, in the troughs at the watering-places where the flock came to drink, and they were ardent when they came to drink.
Jacob has just made a wage deal with Laban, and now he sets peeled sticks where the flocks drink and breed. Two questions run through the rest of his story: was the growth of his flocks his own doing, and where was God while he schemed?
Distance from Laban's own flocks left Jacob free to work unwatched.
Because he was so far away, Jacob could carry out his cunning plan to make Laban's sheep bear striped, speckled or spotted lambs. He took fresh rods from trees and peeled strips of bark off them. Then he put them in front of the sheep when they came to drink (v. 38). At this time they mated, and the plan worked remarkably for Jacob: a very large number of striped, speckled or spotted lambs was born.
The word translated "troughs" means a plain piece of farm equipment:
rahat, water-trough for cattle. Gen. 30:38, 41.
Jacob owned that God was with him, yet he still managed every detail himself. One writer treats this passage as the clearest display of the man's character:
True, God was with Jacob — for nothing can hinder the outshining of divine grace. And Jacob in some measure acknowledges God's presence and faithfulness. Still, he can do nothing without a scheme and a plan. Jacob cannot let God settle the question of his wives and his wages, but tries to settle everything by his own cunning and management. In short, it is "the supplanter" throughout. Let the reader turn, for example, to Gen. 30:37-42, and ask where he could find a cleverer piece of cunning. Instead of letting God multiply the striped, speckled and spotted animals — which He certainly could have done, had He been trusted — Jacob set about securing their increase by a piece of policy that could only have come from the mind of a Jacob.
The hidden rods let the whole scheme wear the look of trust:
Laban surely had no idea what Jacob was doing. Jacob wanted him to think he was depending only on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often it is true with us too, that we persuade ourselves we are walking by faith in God while using our own wits to help God out in supplying our needs!
Commentators differ on whether the peeled branches had any real effect on the flocks. Some doubt they did, and read the episode instead as a mirror of Jacob's inner life:
Some question whether Jacob's trickery in verses 37-39 made any real difference. But whether it did or not, there is a spiritual lesson here that should have spoken to Jacob himself. The things we let occupy our attention most will affect us and everything that comes from us. Jacob was letting his desire for gain take first place in his thoughts. This was bad for him spiritually, and it made him selfish and underhand in what he did. We can usually spot such principles in natural things, while missing what they mean in our spiritual lives.
Another writer allows the trick its part, but puts the result down to God's power:
God graciously stepped in for His injured servant. Even so, we could not imagine his father or his grandfather using such a trick as Jacob used to get the fruit of his long and patient service, which he had earned. Yet God stooped to use a means that, without His power, would have been useless, or at best only partly effective.
Laban had cheated Jacob for twenty years. The growing flocks are not just a clever man's winnings. God is settling a debt.
Divine providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages Laban had defrauded him of for twenty years.
The chapter is unflattering, and that is where its comfort lies.
It is in tracing out Jacob's real character, stage by stage of his extraordinary history, that one gets a wonderful view of divine grace. None but God could have borne with such a man, as none but God would have taken such a man up. Grace begins at the very lowest point. It takes up man as he is, and deals with him in full knowledge of what he is.
- Jacob's hand. He peeled rods and set them in the drinking troughs at breeding time — a plan he kept hidden from Laban.
- Jacob's name. The scheme is the supplanter being himself: he could not leave the matter of his wages with God.
- Jacob's mask. He looked like a man trusting God for his share. We do the same when we call it faith and use our own wits.
- God's hand. Commentators differ over whether the sticks changed anything. They agree the increase came from God. He repaid in a few years the wages Laban had withheld for twenty.
- God's grace. It began with Jacob at his lowest and took him up as he was — which is the only ground on which it takes anyone up.
And the flock was ardent before the rods; and the flock brought forth ringstraked, speckled, and spotted.
Jacob's wages were the marked lambs, and here the flocks mate at the troughs in front of his peeled rods. Commentators ask whether the rods did anything at all, and what the scheme shows about Jacob.
The bargain looked safe for Laban.
Since Laban's sheep were all a normal colour, it was not likely that many would be born for Jacob to claim. But being so far away, Jacob could now put his cunning plan into action. It would make Laban's sheep bear striped, speckled or spotted lambs. He took fresh rods from trees, peeled strips of bark off them, then set them in front of the sheep when they came to drink. At this time they mated. The plan worked very well for Jacob, because a great many striped, speckled or spotted lambs were born.
Bethel was where God had revealed Himself to Jacob. One writer weighs that against how Jacob then lived in Haran.
If you wanted to learn what God was, you should go to Bethel; if to learn what man was, you should go to Haran. But Jacob had failed to take in God's revelation of Himself at Bethel. So he went to Haran, and there showed what he was — and oh, what scrambling and scraping, what shuffling and shifting! There is no holy and elevated confidence in God, no simply looking to Him and waiting on Him... Jacob cannot let God settle the question of his wives and his wages. He tries to settle everything by his own cunning and management.
Another writer points to Jacob's name, and to Laban's earlier wrong.
The closing verses of this chapter reveal the device he used to increase his flocks at Laban's expense. We notice how true he still is to his name — meaning Supplanter... It was quite clear that in the past Laban had taken advantage of him. But to use counter-tricks to reverse the situation is the way of the world, not the way of God.
Later God Himself told Jacob what had increased his flocks. It was not the rods.
Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle... So the contest went on until God stepped in again through a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, not Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business, back to Canaan.
So the scheming was not just wrong. It was needless.
This is no doubt true, but it shows us that there was no need for Jacob to resort to his deceitful actions. God would bless him apart from this.
Laban had cheated Jacob for years. One writer reads the outcome as God settling that account.
Laban's greed made him want to profit from Jacob's strange bargain. Instead it impoverished the self-absorbed master and brought new and growing wealth to the servant he had long defrauded. ... It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go in its way, to repay the wrongdoer and make up to the sufferer.
The same writer sets Jacob's trick beside his father and grandfather, and beside the power behind it.
God did step in with grace for His wronged servant. Even so, we could not imagine either his father or his grandfather using such a trick. Jacob used it to get the fruit of his long and patient service — what he had earned. Yet God stooped to use what, without His power, would have been — if not useless — at best very partial.
Jacob got everything he set out to get.
At last Jacob has reached the limit of his desire by deceit, trickery and fraud. Through it all, and despite it all, the unseen God has heard the desire of Jacob's heart and given him his fill. Yet in his own thinking he has done it all. God is little known or acknowledged. Jacob's hand, his planning and his fraud have gained everything; it is all his.
Commentators differ over whether the rods had any effect at all. The lesson does not depend on settling that.
Some question whether Jacob's trickery in verses 37-39 made any real difference. But whether it did or not, there is a spiritual lesson here that should have spoken deeply to Jacob himself. The things we allow to occupy our attention most will affect us and everything that comes from us. Jacob was letting his desire for gain take first place in his thoughts.
- Blessing first. God would have blessed Jacob without the rods. The trick tried to seize by management what God was ready to give.
- Character shows. In Haran Jacob proved true to his name, Supplanter: he schemed instead of waiting on God.
- God, not rods. A later dream told Jacob that God, not his tricks, moved the flocks from Laban to him.
- Justice served. The bargain stripped the greedy master and enriched the servant he had defrauded — a righteous repayment, as far as it went.
- Gain, no gratitude. Jacob ended rich and gave himself the credit. What fills our thoughts shapes all that comes out of us.
And Jacob separated the lambs, and set the faces of the flock toward the ringstraked, and all the brown in the flock of Laban; and he made himself separate flocks, and did not put them with Laban's flock.
Jacob is building his own herds out of the flock he tends for Laban. Is this the care of a man trusting God, or the cunning of a man managing his own blessing — and if it is cunning, why does he still come away rich?
The verse describes a deliberate breeding plan. Jacob keeps his own animals apart, then controls what the rest of the flock sees when they mate.
Jacob separated the lambs that he could claim for his own and kept all of his own apart from the flock of Laban (v. 40). Then, when the stronger sheep of Laban were mating, he would use his peeled rods in the watering troughs. He would not do this with the weaker sheep. So he was able to secure the stronger sheep, while Laban ended up with the weaker ones (vv. 41-42). No doubt Laban was not aware of what Jacob was doing, and Jacob wanted Laban to think that Jacob was only depending on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often it is true with us too, that we persuade ourselves we are walking by faith in God while using our own wits to help God out in supplying our needs!
Nothing here is left in God's hands. One writer reads this section as the clearest self-portrait Jacob ever painted.
True, God was with Jacob — for nothing can stop the shining out of divine grace. Jacob even owns God's presence and faithfulness in a measure. Still, he can do nothing without a scheme and a plan. Jacob cannot allow God to settle the question of his wives and his wages, but tries to settle everything by his own cunning and management. In short, it is "the supplanter" all the way through. It is truly a perfect picture of Jacob. Instead of letting God multiply "the striped, speckled, and spotted cattle," as He certainly could have done had He been trusted, Jacob sets about multiplying them by a piece of policy that could only have come from the mind of a Jacob.
Jacob's problem was not that he despised what God had promised. He valued it — he just would not leave it with God. And the way he got it came back on him in the same coin.
As to Jacob's character, he was most certainly a believer, and what is more, a believer who valued God's promises… But we do not find in Jacob this character of faith — confidence in God to bring about the promises. So while he values the promises, he uses fleshly means to obtain them; he counts on human policy instead of counting on God. There is blessing in the end. But God could not approve his conduct. In His governmental dealing with Jacob, God measures back to him the measure he has used; Jacob himself is continually the object of the same kind of deceit.
Jacob had earned those wages over years of hard service. But the way he took them sets him apart from the men before him in his family.
Here God graciously stepped in for His wronged servant. Even so, we could not imagine either his father or his grandfather using such a device as Jacob used to get the fruit of his long and patient service, which he had earned. Yet God condescended to use what, without His power, would have been — if not useless — very limited.
The chapter ends with Jacob a wealthy man. The problem is not the wealth. It is that he got what he longed for and never noticed whose hand had given it.
At last Jacob has reached the furthest limit of his desire by deceit, trickery and fraud. Through it all, and despite it all, the unseen God has heard the desire of Jacob's heart and given him his fill. Yet in his own thinking he has done it all — God little known or acknowledged. Jacob's hand, and thought, and fraud have gained it all; it is all his.
This unflattering story is not here to shame Jacob. It shows what God is like with people who are still this small.
Trace out Jacob's real character, stage by stage of his extraordinary history, and you get a wonderful view of divine grace. None but God could have put up with such a man, as none but God would have taken up such a man. Grace begins at the very lowest point. It takes up man as he is, and deals with him in full knowledge of what he is.
- Method — Jacob keeps his own animals apart and breeds from the strong. Laban ends up with the weak flock and never sees the plan.
- Mask — he wants Laban to think he is leaving the outcome to God. We do the same when we call our own scheming "walking by faith."
- Motive — he is a real believer who values the promises. But he does not trust God to deliver them, so he reaches for human policy.
- Mirror — God measures back to him the measure he used; the same deceit meets him again and again.
- Mercy — God stoops to use a device Jacob's father and grandfather would never have touched. Grace begins at the lowest point and takes a man as he is.
And it came to pass whensoever the strong cattle were ardent, that Jacob laid the rods before the eyes of the flock in the gutters, that they might become ardent among the rods;
Jacob's years with Laban end with a breeding trick: he set peeled rods before the flock when the strong animals were mating, and kept them back from the weak. Was this faith, cunning, or God at work through a man who had not yet learned to wait?
A reference work gives the word behind "troughs":
rahat, water-trough for cattle. Genesis 30:38, 41.
The timing of the rods is the whole point. Jacob used them on one kind of animal and not the other:
Jacob separated the lambs he could claim as his own and kept them apart from Laban's flock (v. 40). Then, when Laban's stronger sheep were mating, he would use his peeled rods in the watering troughs. He would not do this with the weaker sheep. So he secured the stronger sheep, and the weaker ones went to Laban (vv. 41-42).
Jacob's cleverness sits beside a real sense that God was with him:
True, God was with Jacob — for nothing can stop divine grace from shining out. Jacob also owns God's presence and faithfulness in some measure. Still, he can do nothing without a scheme and a plan. Jacob cannot let God settle the question of his wives and his wages. He tries to settle it all by his own cunning and management. In short, he is "the supplanter" all through. Turn to Genesis 30:37-42, and say where you can find a more skilful piece of cunning. It is truly a perfect picture of Jacob.
Commentators differ on how much the rods achieved. The lesson stands either way:
Some question whether Jacob's trickery in verses 37-39 made any real difference. But whether it did or not, there is a spiritual lesson here that should have spoken to Jacob himself. Whatever we allow to occupy our attention most will affect us and everything that comes from us. Jacob was letting his desire for gain take first place in his thoughts. This was bad for him spiritually, and made him selfish and underhand in his actions. But we can usually recognize such principles in natural things, while not seeing what they mean in our spiritual lives.
From the outside, the arrangement looked like trust:
No doubt Laban did not know what Jacob was doing. And Jacob wanted him to think that he was only depending on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often it is true with us too, that we persuade ourselves we are walking by faith in God while using our own wits to help God out in supplying our needs!
Looking back, the increase traces to God and not to the rods:
We are now allowed to see how God had stepped in and made the agreement about the spotted and speckled cattle work in Jacob's favour. In the light of this, our thought would be this. If he had rested with confidence in God, and had not used the tricks described in the last chapter, God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have spoken for him far more convincingly.
The repayment, when it came, was swift:
Divine providence paid Jacob in about five or six years the wages that Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years.
The tragedy is not that Jacob failed to prosper. It is that he walked away thinking the prosperity was his own achievement:
At last Jacob has reached the furthest limit of his desire, by deceit, trickery, and fraud. Through it all, and despite it all, the unseen God has heard the desire of Jacob's heart and granted it in full. Yet in his own mind he has done it all himself — God is hardly known or acknowledged. Jacob's hand, his thinking, and his fraud have gained it all; it is all his.
Yet this is where grace shows itself:
No one but God could have put up with such a man, and no one but God would have taken up such a man. Grace begins at the very lowest point. It takes up man as he is, and deals with him in the full intelligence of what he is.
- The trough. Jacob put his peeled rods in the water troughs only when the strong animals were mating. He kept them back from the weak. The best of the flock became his.
- The scheme. Jacob owned God's presence in some measure. Yet he could not let God settle his wages; he had to have a plan of his own.
- The disguise. He arranged things so Laban would think he was leaving it all to God. We do the same when we call our own wits "walking by faith."
- The real hand. God was the one who made the flocks increase. He repaid in five or six years what Laban had cheated Jacob of over twenty.
- The grace. Jacob thought he had gained it all himself. God took up such a man anyway, and bore with him. Grace begins at the very lowest point.
but when the sheep were feeble, he put [them] not in; so the feeble were Laban's, and the strong Jacob's.
Genesis 30 ends with Jacob's flocks growing fast, and verse 42 gives the fine print of his method: he used the peeled rods for the strong animals only. So the chapter leaves one question open — did his wealth come from his own cleverness, or from God?
The verse describes a filter, not just a trick. Jacob timed his device so that the vigorous animals bred under it and the feeble ones did not, and he drew a lesson for himself in the process:
Jacob separated the lambs that he could claim as his own and kept them apart from Laban's flock. Then, when Laban's stronger sheep were mating, he would use his peeled rods in the watering troughs. He would not do this with the weaker sheep. So he secured the stronger sheep, and Laban kept the weaker ones. No doubt Laban did not know what Jacob was doing. Jacob wanted Laban to think he was only depending on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often the same thing is true of us! We persuade ourselves that we are walking by faith in God, while we use our own wits to help God out in supplying our needs.
One writer finds in these verses a portrait of Jacob the supplanter — the man who gets ahead by pushing others aside:
True, God was with Jacob — for nothing can hinder the outshining of divine grace. Jacob does, up to a point, acknowledge God's presence and faithfulness. Still nothing can be done without a scheme and a plan. Jacob cannot allow God to settle the question of his wives and his wages, but seeks to settle everything by his own cunning and management. In short, it is "the supplanter" throughout. Let the reader turn to Genesis 30:37-42 and say where he could find a more skilful piece of cunning.
Jacob had told Laban that his honesty would speak for him later. The irony is that the outcome he engineered was already on its way without him:
In the light of this our reflection would be that if he had rested with confidence in God, and not used the devices described in the last chapter, the end God purposed would have been reached, and his "righteousness" would have answered for him in a much more convincing way.
Later God gave Jacob the real explanation for his growing flocks, and it came in a dream:
Laban, according to Jacob's complaint, changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle. Laban's sons complained that he had "taken all that was our father's." So the contest went on until God stepped in again in a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, rather than Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business back to Canaan.
The transfer of the strong animals also settles an old account. Laban had defrauded Jacob for years, and his own greed became the instrument that drained him:
Laban's greedy desire to profit by Jacob's strange bargain made the self-absorbed master poor. It brought new and growing wealth to the servant he had cheated for so long. It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go, to repay the wrongdoer and make up to the man who suffered. And one cannot fail to notice how fitting such a dealing from God was toward the one of Israel's fathers who, more than any other, pictures the chosen people. Israel took its name from him. Their ups and downs were like his own endless changes, failures and humiliations. At the end, divine mercy would turn all of it into everlasting blessing at the feet of their long rejected Messiah.
One writer draws a lesson for Jacob, and for us, from the sheep in front of the rods:
The sheep in front of the rods seem to show how "the eye affects the heart." Whatever object we keep before us shapes us, and shapes everything that comes from us. So the Lord connects the "eye" and the "master" (Matthew 6:19-25). Our object is what controls us, and in a world like this, how many objects compete to take hold of us! So if our mind is set on things above, the marks of a "life hidden with Christ in God" take shape in us (Colossians 3:1-3).
The story does not leave us admiring Jacob. It shows what God was toward a man like him:
This is a true picture, so far as Jacob was concerned. But it only gives us one side, and that the gloomy side. Blessed be God, there is a bright side too, for God had to do with Jacob. In every scene of his life, when Jacob was called to reap the fruits of his own plotting and crookedness, the God of Jacob brought good out of evil. He caused His grace to abound over all the sin and folly of His poor servant.
- Craft. Jacob used the rods only when the strong animals bred, so the vigorous stock went to him and the feeble to Laban.
- Cover. He looked like a man leaving the outcome to God, while his own wits were steering it.
- Cause. God later told him in a dream that the flocks moved from Laban to him by His hand, not by his schemes.
- Cost. Laban's greed drained him — a righteous repayment for the wrongdoer and relief for the man he had cheated.
- Grace. He reaped the fruits of his own crookedness, and still God brought good out of evil in every scene of his life.
And the man increased very, very much, and had much cattle, and bondwomen, and bondmen, and camels, and asses.
Genesis 30 ends with Jacob rich. He had served Laban for twenty years and been cheated of his wages, yet now his flocks, servants and camels are many. It reads like a happy ending. But the real questions are who made him rich, and what that wealth cost him.
Laban had cheated his nephew for twenty years. Then the bargain he thought would cost him almost nothing turned against him.
Laban's greed wanted to profit by Jacob's strange bargain. Instead it made the self-absorbed master poor, and gave new and growing wealth to the servant he had cheated for so long. Laban shows no regret for the way he took advantage of his nephew. He shows not the least caring affection for his daughters or their children. It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go in its way, to repay the evil-doer and make up to the sufferer.
The repayment came fast.
God's providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages Laban had defrauded him of for twenty years.
Kelly sees a larger pattern here: Jacob's story maps the story of a whole nation.
Notice how fitting God's dealing was with this man. Of all the fathers of the nation, he pictures the chosen people more than any other. They took their name as a nation from him. Their ups and downs were like his own endless changes of fortune, failures and humiliations — all to be turned at the end, by God's mercy, into everlasting blessing at the feet of the Messiah they had rejected for so long. … So no one will boast in himself; "let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord."
The verse does not say "Jacob." It says "the man." One writer stops on that word.
At last Jacob has reached the furthest limit of his desire — by deceit, trickery and fraud. Through it all, and despite it all, the unseen God has heard the desire of Jacob's heart and given him his fill. Yet in Jacob's own thinking he has done it all. God is hardly known or acknowledged. Jacob's hand, his planning, his fraud have gained the whole of it; it is all his. Jacob's cattle are strong. Note that word, "the man": "the man increased greatly and had large flocks, female servants and male servants, and camels and donkeys."
Jacob's own account of the wealth gives him away.
Notice Jacob's thought! Has God given him anything? No, nothing. It is all his own gain, which he got for himself. If he had not looked after himself, he would have had nothing at all.
Jacob wanted to look like a man leaving the outcome to God. His own methods told a different story.
Laban surely did not know what Jacob was doing. Jacob wanted Laban to think he was only depending on God to decide how many sheep he should have. How often this is true of us too! We persuade ourselves that we are walking by faith in God, while we use our own wits to help God supply our needs.
Measured against the men who came before him, the method stands out.
God stepped in graciously for His injured servant. Even so, we could not imagine either his father or his grandfather using the scheme Jacob used to gain what his long and patient service had earned him. Yet God stooped to use what, without His power, would have been — if not useless — very limited.
The commentators point past the scheme to its real cause.
Jacob prospered. But he should have realised that this came by the grace of God, not by his own cleverness. God had told him He would bless him, and He did so despite Jacob's trickery.
The wealth itself became the teacher. It turned Laban against him.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that it is the power of God to which he owes the increase. God has looked on his affliction and his toil, and appointed him a repayment. But his prosperity turns Laban against him. In the same way, spiritual growth separates a person from the world.
Wealth gathered this way could not stay.
"The one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption." If Jacob has not received this from God, then he has been heaping up treasure for himself. God must strip it all from him, leaving him as bare as a withered branch. Only then can he become a worshipper of God, let alone a witness for His name.
- Repaid. God settled Jacob's twenty years of stolen wages in about five, turning Laban's greed into his own loss.
- Rebranded. Jacob called the wealth his own gain, won by his own hand — the gift arrived, but the Giver went unacknowledged.
- Rationalised. Jacob's scheme let him look like a man trusting God while he used his own wits. We do the same.
- Regardless. God had promised to bless him, and He did so despite the trickery, not because of it.
- Removed. God strips away treasure heaped up for self before a man can worship — the wealth was never the blessing.
And he heard the words of Laban's sons, saying, Jacob has taken away all that was our father's, and of what was our father's he has acquired all this glory.
After twenty years of shepherding for Laban, Jacob is rich, and Laban's sons say the gain came out of their father's pocket. Their words raise two questions: who really made Jacob rich, and what does that wealth do to his place in Laban's house?
Where the ESV reads "all this wealth," older translations read "all this glory." One writer follows that word to its next use in Genesis.
We have had the word "glory" once before, in Genesis 31:1, where it means wealth. This later place is the first time it means honour and splendour, so again we can see what it pictures. When Christ is revealed in His glory, Israel will be gathered to Him and bow down before Him.
Laban's sons are not inventing figures. The flocks had shifted, and only in one direction.
But God thwarted the covetous man and helped the long-suffering one. The result was plenty on one side and loss on the other. This cut Laban and his sons to the quick, and their connection with Jacob soon ended, to Jacob's relief. But how weak the faith!
Laban had once been glad of the arrangement.
Before this, Laban had recognized that Jacob's presence with him was what made him prosper so much. So he valued Jacob. Now Jacob prospers and Laban's attitude toward him changes to that of resentment.
One writer names what the sons feel, and points to one man in Genesis who was rich yet never drew it.
We move on to Laban's sons (Gen. 31:1), who became envious of Jacob; Laban also became full of ANGER against him, though God did not permit him to show it (Gen. 31:2, 24). It is worth noting that Isaac and Jacob were both envied for their riches. Yet we never find that Abraham was, though he was just as rich — a fact that says a great deal for his character.
The sons credit Jacob's own hands for the wealth. So did Jacob, in his own thinking — and that is the deeper problem.
At last Jacob has reached the limit of his desire by deceit, trickery, and fraud. Through it all, and despite it all, the unseen God has heard the desire of Jacob's heart and given him his fill. Yet in his own thinking Jacob has done it all, with God little known or acknowledged. Jacob's hand, and thought, and fraud have gained it all; all is his.
Had he left the outcome to God, the same result would have arrived with his reputation intact.
If he had rested with confidence in God, and not used the tricks described in the last chapter, God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have spoken for him far more convincingly.
The break between the two households was not random. One writer reads a pattern in it.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that it is the power of God to which he owes the increase. God has looked on his affliction and his toil, and ordained him a repayment. But his prosperity puts distance between him and Laban, just as spiritual increase separates a person from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan.
One writer counts the cost in years and wages.
Truly the Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and rich in loving-kindness. For the words of Laban's sons, and the looks of Laban himself, revealed their discontent — and no wonder. So the Lord told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers, and to his relatives. God's providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him of for twenty years.
The complaint also raises the question of who had been doing the work, and one writer weighs both sides.
We must not excuse the way Jacob manipulated things. On the other hand, Laban had been taking unfair advantage of Jacob all the way through. Jacob did the hard work of caring for Laban's flocks for twenty years. Laban had sons who could have helped with this work, but they left the work to the one who could do it well. … Management often thinks it has the right to reap all the benefits that labour produces, because management provided the money at the start. But God takes account of the guilt of management in the oppression of its employees (James 5:4).
- Glory — older translations read "all this glory"; here the word means wealth, and later in Genesis it means honour and splendour.
- Grudge — Laban once valued Jacob as the source of his own prosperity. The same prosperity in Jacob's hands turns that into resentment and envy.
- Giver — Jacob thought his own hand and scheming had gained it all. In fact God repaid in five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him of for twenty.
- Gap — the increase pushes the two households apart, "as spiritual increase separates from the world."
- Go — the friction becomes God's timing: here He calls Jacob back to Canaan and to his relatives.
And Jacob saw the countenance of Laban, and behold, it was not toward him as previously.
Twenty years of service in Haran have made Jacob rich, and the household that once welcomed him now watches him with different eyes. One cold look turns the story. The question is what God is doing behind it.
Older translations say Jacob saw Laban's "countenance" — his face — and it was no longer what it had been. The change follows the flocks. While Jacob's work made Laban rich, Laban valued him.
Jacob had gained all of this through his caring for their father's sheep: now most of the sheep, and the stronger sheep, belonged to Jacob. But Laban had agreed to the arrangement, and they could do nothing about it. Before this, Laban had seen that Jacob's presence with him made him prosper greatly, so he valued Jacob. Now Jacob prospers and Laban's attitude toward him changes to that of resentment.
The cold face is not only Laban's doing. Jacob had once won a blessing by deceiving a father at home; in Haran he lives for twenty years under a man who deceives him.
Jacob was a man of faith, but he failed in spiritual life, and he comes under the Lord's discipline so that he might bear more fruit, and better fruit. He had cheated at home, so he suffered abroad, most of all at the hands of his mother's brother. He bore Laban's hardhearted wrongs patiently, and that shows he bowed to God.
This repayment has a purpose. It is not cold justice.
Surely no one can miss the lesson of this repayment. It is God's holy discipline for us, so that we may share His holiness. The measure we use is measured back to us. What we sow we reap. And in the fairness of God's government we find the correction of a Father's hand. Jacob receives from a relative the deceit he had practiced on a relative.
Jacob's wealth came partly from his own clever schemes with the breeding of the flocks. What did those schemes cost him?
The sons of Laban saw that Jacob had stripped their father of much of his flocks, and Laban himself began to look on him with disfavour. The situation became critical, and the Lord Himself stepped in to end it… Seeing this, we would reflect that if Jacob had rested in God with confidence, and had not used the tricks described in the last chapter, God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have spoken for him far more convincingly.
The cold look is not a disaster. It is a signal. Right after Jacob saw that face and heard Laban's sons, God told him to go home.
Truly the Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and full of loving-kindness. The words of Laban's sons and the looks of Laban himself showed their discontent — and no wonder. So the Lord told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers, and to his relatives. In about five or six years, God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years.
The pattern reaches past Jacob and Laban. Blessing itself creates distance.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that he owes his increase to the power of God… But his prosperity turns Laban against him, just as spiritual growth separates one from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan.
A settled, pleasant life can take the place God should have. He does not leave it that way.
Everything may be going along smoothly and pleasantly. Our property is safe. Our business is doing well. Our children and servants behave nicely, our home is comfortable, our health is excellent — everything, in short, just as we would like it. How easily we then mistake the peace that rests on such circumstances for the peace that flows from the known presence of Christ. The Lord knows this. So He steps in, in one way or another, and stirs up the nest.
- Cause. Laban valued Jacob while Jacob's work made him rich. When the flocks passed to Jacob, that welcome turned to resentment.
- Discipline. The deceiver at home became the deceived abroad. God measured back to Jacob the measure he had used — a Father's correction, not mere payback.
- Gain, badly won. God would have given the same increase without Jacob's schemes. Then his righteousness would have spoken for him far more convincingly.
- Signal. The moment the faces turned cold, God's word came: return to the land of your fathers. Hostility became the door out.
- Pattern. Increase separates. When we nestle down in comfortable circumstances instead of in Christ, God stirs the nest.
And Jehovah said to Jacob, Return into the land of thy fathers, and to thy kindred; and I will be with thee.
Twenty years with Laban have left Jacob rich, but the household has turned against him: Laban's sons are muttering, and Laban's face has changed. At this moment God speaks, and He tells Jacob to go home — with the promise that He Himself will go with him.
The timing matters. Jacob had heard nothing from God through all his years with Laban.
The twenty years had expired. Laban's hatred and the hatred of his sons had increased. When the crisis had been reached the voice of Jehovah was heard. "Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred, and I will be with you." This is the first time Jehovah spoke since the vision at Bethel.
Before the voice came, the situation had become impossible. Jacob's growing flocks were the very thing that turned his relatives against him.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that it is the power of God to which he owes the increase. God has looked on his affliction and his toil, and appointed him a reward. But his prosperity turns Laban away from him, as spiritual increase separates from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan.
Jacob did not have to find his own way out.
The situation became critical, and the Lord Himself intervened to end it. Back to his own land and kindred he was to go.
Jacob's recent dealings with Laban had been far from honest. What is striking here is what God does not say.
While Scripture has plainly exposed what Jacob was doing, the Lord does not reprove him for this: Jacob knew that his actions were wrong, since they were not the fruit of faith. The Lord therefore left him to fight that matter out with his own conscience. But God repeats His promise to Jacob, that He will be with him. Such is the sovereign goodness of God toward His servants in spite of their failing ways.
God names a place and a people: the land of his fathers, and his kindred. Jacob later proves selective about the second half.
So Jacob is all things to all men, hoping somehow to gain something for himself. He is willing enough to return to the land of his kindred, but not to his kindred as God had said. For between him and them stood the place of sacrifice and obedience to God.
The words "I will be with you" arrive at a point where Jacob has everything he had once wanted and nothing left to chase.
At last Jacob had reached the limit of his desire. He had got for himself much cattle, maidservants, menservants, camels and donkeys, and so for the moment he had no further object before him. Then Jehovah presents Himself to Jacob as the only worthy object, the true satisfying portion, saying, "Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred, and I will be with you."
Jacob obeys at once — but the way he leaves shows how little the promise had steadied him.
At last Laban's sons murmur, and their father's face is no longer toward Jacob as before. Then Jehovah tells him to return to the land of his fathers. He makes up his mind at once. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and then sets out in secret. He did so because he had no confidence in God with a clear conscience — the kind that frees a man from fear. The unseen hand of God was there; but the power and the honour of God could not righteously be found in such a course.
- Crisis — The word came when Jacob's position had become impossible. God did not ease the trouble; He ended it.
- Call — Jacob's prosperity drove Laban away from him. Only then came the call back to Canaan. The discomfort was the preparation.
- Clemency — God says nothing about Jacob's wrongdoing. He leaves that to Jacob's own conscience and renews His promise instead — sovereign goodness toward a failing servant.
- Company — Jacob had reached the limit of his desires. God then offered Himself as the one satisfying portion.
- Compliance — Jacob made up his mind at once. Yet he slipped away in secret, obeying God's word without resting in His promise.
And Jacob sent and called Rachel and Leah to the fields to his flock,
Twenty years after fleeing home, Jacob is a wealthy man in Laban's service, but the mood around him has turned. God has told him to go home, and his first move is to send for his two wives — out in the open country, away from the house.
Jacob does not call this meeting because he decided to leave. He calls it because God has spoken:
At last Laban's sons murmur, and their father's face is no longer friendly toward Jacob as before. So Jehovah tells him to return to the land of his fathers. He makes up his mind at once. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and sets out secretly.
Jacob had God's word behind him, yet he acted like a man with something to hide:
Jacob was also too timid to act openly, but, encouraged from above, he calls Rachel and Leah to a meeting. He could truly say this: if Laban showed ill will, the God of his father was with him. And if Laban had tried to cheat him, God did not let him come to harm.
The same writer names what was missing:
He did not have the confidence in God, with a clear conscience, that sets a man free from fear.
Jacob could have told Rachel and Leah to get on the camels. Instead he lays out the case: Laban's changed attitude, his own hard service, and wages altered again and again:
Jacob therefore sent for Rachel and Leah to come to him where he was with the flock, and set before them the facts about Laban's changed attitude (v. 5). He does defend himself in the whole matter: it would have been better if he had not done so. However, it was true that he had served Laban with great diligence. Here we learn that Laban had changed Jacob's wages ten times.
The story Jacob tells in the field is true as far as it goes. What he leaves out is his own share in the affair:
So he says that God had taken Laban's flocks and given them to Jacob. He does not tell them about his own trickery in the matter: evidently he had been able to hide this from everyone except the Lord.
Another writer draws the lesson from the gap. The flocks had multiplied because God arranged it, not because Jacob's methods worked — which means the schemes were never needed:
We are now allowed to see how God had intervened and caused the agreement about the spotted and speckled cattle to work in his favour. In the light of this, our reflection would be this. If he had rested in confidence in God, and had not used the schemes described in the last chapter, God would have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have answered for him far more convincingly.
Kelly puts the repayment in figures:
Divine providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages that Laban had defrauded him of for twenty years.
Jacob's report includes the name God used of Himself:
This name, "the God of Bethel," is of very real importance, for it means "God of the house of God." Jacob had been concerned about his own house, allowing the claims of God's house to wait. But the increase of Jacob's house had not produced peace and happiness in all his relationships. It was time that he learned that true contentment is only found in connection with God's house, where God's interests come first.
The meeting works. The two women need no persuading, because their father had lost any hold on them:
Rachel and Leah were fully ready to move at once. They realised there was nothing to tie them to their father. One thing they remembered: their father had sold his daughters and made himself rich by the sale. So they had become almost strangers to their own father… But Rachel and Leah have good advice for Jacob: "Do whatever God has said to you" (v. 16).
- God speaks first. The meeting in the field is a response, not an idea of Jacob's. God told him to return to his father's land, and named Himself the God of Bethel, the God of His own house.
- God pays. Laban cheated Jacob of wages for twenty years. God paid it all back in five or six.
- Fear chose the field. Jacob had God's word, but not the clear conscience that removes fear. So he met his wives away from the house and slipped away in secret.
- Half the story. He tells Rachel and Leah the truth about Laban and about God. He leaves out his own scheming, hidden from everyone except the Lord.
- The schemes were needless. If Jacob had trusted God, the same outcome would have come. His integrity would then have spoken for him far better.
and said to them, I see your father's countenance, that it is not toward me as previously; but the God of my father has been with me.
Jacob calls his two wives out to the field where he is with the flock. He tells them what he has seen: Laban's face has turned against him, yet God has stayed with him. Two facts stand side by side: a man's favour withdrawn, God's favour unchanged. But is Jacob telling his wives the whole story?
The change Jacob reads in Laban's expression is not an isolated moment. It comes with the muttering of Laban's sons, and it arrives at the same time as a word from God telling him to go home. One writer puts the two side by side, and notes that God had already settled the money side:
The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and full of steadfast love. Laban's sons complained, and Laban's own face showed his discontent — and no wonder. So the LORD told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers, to his own relatives. God's providence paid Jacob in five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty. They wanted to get rid of Jacob, but would not say so. After all, what did Laban own before Jacob came?
Jacob's claim is true. But God being with him is not the same as God approving what he had been doing in those years:
How grand a word this is. Even though Jacob was not living as he should (and he knew it), the Lord said, "I am with you." Can the Lord go with a believer on a wrong course? Well, He did not say He approved of the way Jacob was living. Yet He still said, "I am with you" — and He was with Jacob. Later, Jacob treated Laban badly far too many times, but the Lord blessed him anyway.
Jacob's speech to Rachel and Leah is a case for the defence. Everything he says about Laban is accurate; the gap is in what he does not mention:
So Jacob sent for Rachel and Leah to come out to him where he was with the flock. He told them the facts about Laban's changed attitude. He does defend himself in the whole matter: it would have been better if he had not done so. However, it was true that he had served Laban with great diligence... He does not tell them about his own trickery. He had managed to hide that from everyone except the Lord.
Jacob had left home after deceiving his father. One writer reads his years with Laban as the same coin handed back to him:
No doubt he often had to suffer from Laban's deceit. But was this not a reminder of his own deceit? He is deceived about his wife, about his wages, about everything. But how had he treated his father — not to mention his brother? Deceit must meet deceit under the hand of God, who repays. Do not wonder too much at the story of Jacob. Bless with all your heart the God who cares for His servant. After Jacob had suffered a while, God made him prosper — slowly, but surely.
If God had been with him all along, as he tells his wives, the years of clever bargaining were not needed. One writer traces that scheming back to its root:
All his hard work and scheming, like his miserable bargain before, comes from not knowing God's grace. He could not put full confidence in God's promise... You would have thought that Jacob's vision had told him a story of grace. But what God showed him at Bethel and what Jacob did at Haran are two very different things. What he did at Haran shows what he had made of what God said. How a person lives is the real measure of what he has experienced and believes, whatever he may claim.
One writer sees Jacob's twenty years abroad as a picture of his descendants living among the nations. He was resented and mistreated, and yet he grew rich:
When the crisis came, the LORD spoke. "Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred; and I will be with you." This is the first time the LORD spoke since the vision at Bethel... What comfort it must have been to hear "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you." The Lord watched over Jacob. Laban hated him, and still Jacob prospered. So Israel, scattered among the nations and hated by them, increases and prospers.
The God who tells him to leave names Himself by the place where Jacob first met Him:
God called him back to the land of promise. In doing so He revealed Himself as "the God of Bethel," reminding Jacob of the pillar he anointed and the vow he made. God brought him back to the beginning of his direct dealings with Him. This is always God's way with His people. We may wander away, but we have to come back to the original spot we departed from. The point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
- The face. Laban's changed expression and his sons' complaints mark the end of Jacob's time in that house. God's word to leave arrives at that very moment.
- The presence. "The God of my father has been with me" is true, yet God saying I am with you was never the same as God approving Jacob's methods.
- The silence. Jacob tells his wives everything Laban did to him, but nothing of his own trickery. He hid that from everyone except the Lord.
- The discipline. The man who deceived his father was then deceived about his wife, his wages, and everything else. Deceit met deceit — and God still cared for him and made him prosper.
- The return. God calls him back as "the God of Bethel." The place where we first met God is the place where He restores us.
And you know that with all my power I have served your father.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And your father has mocked me, and has changed my wages ten times; but God suffered him not to hurt me.
Jacob stands in the fields with Rachel and Leah, telling them why the family must leave Haran: his father-in-law kept changing the deal, and God kept stopping the damage. If God was protecting him, why did he have to endure twenty years of it?
The complaint is about a contract that never stayed still.
Here we learn that Laban had changed Jacob's wages ten times. When he saw that Jacob was doing very well out of one bargain, he would change the terms of his wages. Then the sheep would breed in a different way, and again it worked to Jacob's advantage.
Jacob repeats this charge later, to Laban's face. Laban never denies it, and that silence counts as proof.
He states that Laban had changed his wages ten times (v. 41). This must have been true, or Laban would have denied it. It does show the manipulating character of Laban. He was every bit as skilled at this trickery as Jacob.
Jacob had tricked his brother. What came back to him had the same shape.
Jacob had tricked his brother, and Laban treated him in the same way. Laban gave him Leah as his wife instead of Rachel, though he had Rachel, the one he loved, later on. He had not learned to trust God. He used clever tricks to increase what he owned, and he received the same treatment in return: his wages changed "ten times." But God was watching over him, and told him to return to the land of his fathers.
Knowing he was under that correcting hand changed how Jacob lived in Laban's house.
While he was living in the Syrian's house, Jacob knew that he was under the mighty hand of God for correction, and he behaved that way. He did not defend himself when he was blamed. He did not fight for his rights when he was wronged and treated unfairly.
The second half of the verse is the point of the whole speech. Laban held all the power and still could not make Jacob lose. When the repayment came, it came fast.
In about five or six years God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years… He could truly say that if Laban showed him ill will, the God of his father was with him. And if Laban tried to cheat him, God did not let him come to harm.
This reversal is described as an act of justice, not merely a lucky turn in the livestock market.
Laban's greedy wish to profit from Jacob's strange bargain made the self-absorbed master poor instead, while the servant he had long cheated grew richer and richer… It was a righteous thing, as far as it could go, to pay back the wrongdoer and repay the one who had suffered… Notice too how fitting such a dealing from God was toward the one patriarch who pictures the chosen people more than any other. They took their name from him. Their ups and downs were like his own — endless changes of fortune, failures and humiliations, to be turned at the end, through God's mercy, into everlasting blessing.
Jacob's complaint tells only half the story. He had tricks of his own with Laban's flocks, and a dream from God took the credit for the growing herds away from those tricks.
By Jacob's own complaint, Laban changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by clever tricks with the breeding of Laban's cattle. Laban's sons complained that he had taken away everything that belonged to their father. So the contest went on until God stepped in again through a dream. God showed Jacob that it was He, and not Jacob's schemes, who had moved the cattle from Laban to him. And He called Jacob out of the whole unpleasant business, back to Canaan.
The grievance was real. It still settled nothing about Jacob's own conduct.
Jacob said that Laban had changed his wages ten times. If that was true, it was a serious provocation. But relying on God would have kept him from actions that are also open to question.
- Watched. Laban rewrote the deal ten times. Every time Jacob gained, the terms changed — and God saw each change.
- Warned. Jacob had tricked his brother; now Laban tricked him. The correction fitted the man, and Jacob took the wrongs without defending himself.
- Shielded. Laban held every advantage and still could not harm Jacob. God stood between them.
- Repaid. In about five years God gave back what twenty years of fraud had taken. The cheat grew poor; the cheated servant grew rich.
- Corrected. The provocation was real, but it did not excuse Jacob's own tricks. Trusting God would have brought the same result with clean hands.
If he said thus; The speckled shall be thy hire, then all the flocks bore speckled; and if he said thus The ringstraked shall be thy hire, then all the flocks bore ringstraked.
Here Jacob tells his wives, Rachel and Leah, about twenty years of work for their father, Laban. A pattern kept repeating. Whatever colour Laban named as Jacob's pay, the flocks bore that colour — so who was running this arrangement?
This was one round in a wage deal that kept changing. Jacob's own count of the changes shows what lay behind them.
Here we learn that Laban had changed Jacob's wages ten times. When he saw that Jacob was gaining greatly by one bargain, he would change the terms of his wages. Then the sheep would bear in another way to Jacob's advantage. So he says that God had taken Laban's flocks and given them to Jacob.
Jacob had been underpaid for twenty years. Notice how quickly God settled that debt.
Truly the Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and full of loving-kindness… God in His providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years… Jacob could truly say that if Laban showed ill-will, the God of his father was with him. And if Laban had sought to cheat him, God did not allow him to be hurt.
Jacob had his own tricks for shaping what the flocks bore. A dream later in this chapter points to a different cause.
Laban, according to Jacob's complaint, changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle… So the contest went on until God stepped in again through a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, not Jacob's schemes, that caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business back to Canaan.
God was the one at work. So Jacob's tricks were not only unneeded. They cost him the clear case he could have had.
We are now allowed to see how God had stepped in. He caused the agreement about the spotted and speckled cattle to work in Jacob's favour. This makes us reflect. If Jacob had rested with confidence in God, and not used the devices described in the last chapter, God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have answered for him in a much more convincing way.
Jacob's speech to his wives is honest about Laban and silent about himself.
He does not tell them about his own trickery. It seems he had been able to hide it from everyone except the Lord.
Jacob was the wronged party here. Yet one writer sees his years with Laban as a measured return of what Jacob had handed out to others.
He is now a stranger and a servant for hire. Laban cheats him and pushes his own gain — a relative of his, and in character close kin too. You cannot mistake the payback all the way through: the measure Jacob handed out to another comes back to him. But you also cannot miss that in the way it is dealt out, God is speaking to the heart and conscience of the wanderer. There is fairness in God's government, but also the chastening of a holy love.
This leaves a practical question. When may we fall back on plans of our own?
From all this we may draw a practical conclusion. We have no need nor right to fall back on plans of our own, as though we could help God to achieve His purpose. If, on the other hand, God instructs us by His word to act, it is our duty and our wisdom to do as He says. Jacob asserted that Laban had changed his wages ten times. If that was true, it was great provocation. But relying on God would have saved him from actions that were also open to question.
- Changed — Laban rewrote the deal every time Jacob gained by it. Jacob counted ten changes in twenty years.
- Reversed — Whatever colour Laban named, the flocks bore. God turned each new term into Jacob's gain, and paid in five or six years what Laban had withheld for twenty.
- Not the tricks — The dream later in the chapter names the cause: God, not Jacob's breeding schemes. His tricks were never needed.
- Half the story — Jacob tells his wives about Laban's cheating and says nothing about his own. He hid it from everyone except the Lord.
- Chastening — What Jacob had measured out to others came back to him through Laban. That is fairness in God's government, and also a holy love speaking to his conscience.
And God has taken away the cattle of your father, and given [them] to me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it came to pass at the time of the ardour of the flocks, that I lifted up mine eyes, and saw in a dream, and behold, the rams that leaped upon the flocks were ringstraked, speckled, and spotted.
Jacob had worked twenty years for Laban, and the two men were now at odds over the flocks. Here Jacob tells his wives what he saw in a dream at breeding time, and the dream answers one question: who was building his wealth — his own tricks, or God?
The dream comes when Jacob's position with Laban has become impossible. It also breaks a long silence from God.
The twenty years had expired. Laban's hatred and the hatred of his sons had increased. When the crisis came, Jehovah spoke. "Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred; and I will be with you." This is the first time Jehovah spoke since the vision at Bethel. Jacob then laid the matter before his wives and told them of a dream in which the angel of the Lord had spoken to him. What comfort it must have been for him to hear "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you."
One of the words in Jacob's list, "mottled" in the ESV, appears as "grisled" in older translations. A Bible dictionary gives its meaning:
Grey colour, or mixed with grey. Gen. 31:10; Zech. 6:3, 6.
Jacob had used tricks of his own to influence how the flocks bred. The dream tells him something else was at work.
Laban, according to Jacob's complaint, changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle. According to the complaint of Laban's sons he had "taken away all that was our father's." The contest went on until God stepped in again in a dream. He showed Jacob that it was He, and not Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business back to Canaan.
If God was already at work in the flocks, Jacob's tricks added nothing.
He speaks of a dream in which he saw the goats mating in the way that would benefit him. He also speaks of the angel of God saying that it was God who had caused the animals to bear in a way that was to Jacob's advantage. This is no doubt true, but it shows us that there was no need for Jacob to resort to his deceitful actions. God would bless him apart from this. He tells him that He has seen all that Laban was doing to him.
Laban had cheated Jacob for twenty years. The flocks in the dream settled that account.
Truly Jehovah is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and full of loving-kindness. The words of Laban's sons and the looks of Laban himself showed their discontent — and no wonder. So Jehovah told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers, and to his kindred. In some five or six years God's providence paid Jacob the wages that Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years.
Jacob says the angel of God spoke to him in this dream. One writer argues that this "angel" was the Son of God, appearing before He came as man.
It is true that the one who appears is often called "the Angel of the Lord," "Angel of the Covenant," or simply "Angel." But the Hebrew word "malach" carries a double sense, like its Greek equivalent: angel and messenger. Jacob uses the word in his review of God's dealings. "The Angel who redeemed me from all evil, bless the boys" (Gen. 48:16). This would undoubtedly include the incidents of Bethel (Gen. 28:13), of Haran (Gen. 31:10), of Peniel (Gen. 32:35), of Beersheba (Gen. 41:1). Would the patriarch at such a moment call on a mere angel to bless his grandsons? None but the Son of God could redeem.
The voice in the dream names Bethel, where Jacob's story with God had started twenty years before.
Years passed — twenty long and eventful years. They were years of trial and testing, in which Jacob went through many ups and downs, changes, and varied trials. But the God of Bethel watched over His poor servant. He appeared to him while he was under pressure and said, "I am the God of Bethel, where you anointed the pillar, and where you made a vow to Me. Now arise, go out from this land, and return to the land of your kindred."
- Crisis — Twenty years of work end in a quarrel with Laban's family. God breaks a long silence and speaks.
- Sight — The marked goats in the dream show Jacob that God was moving the flocks to him, not his own tricks.
- Correction — God would have blessed him anyway. The scheming was never needed.
- Justice — "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you." Providence repaid in five or six years what fraud had withheld for twenty.
- Call — The speaker names Himself the God of Bethel and sends Jacob home. The God of the journey's start still watches at its end.
And the Angel of God said to me in a dream, Jacob! And I said, Here am I.
Jacob is telling Rachel and Leah why they must leave for Canaan. He traces the decision back to a night when God called him by name in a dream. Two questions sit inside his account. Who is this "angel of God" who speaks as God? And why did the message come after twenty years with Laban?
The speaker does not stay anonymous. He goes on to say, "I am the God of Bethel." Commentators read the word "angel" here as a veil over God's own presence, not as a created messenger. Years later Jacob asked that same Angel to bless Joseph's sons.
Scripture uses the word as a veiled representation of God's presence, as in Genesis 31:11-13. "The angel of God" spoke to Jacob saying, "I am the God of Bethel." Jacob, when blessing the sons of Joseph, said, "The angel who has redeemed me from all evil, bless the boys." ... Most believe that it was the second person of the Trinity who appeared as a man in the Old Testament.
Jacob was in the middle of a running contest of wits with Laban. God chose the one moment when a busy man cannot argue back or walk away.
God is invisible. So He speaks to man in ways that do not show Him in person, but in ways that wake up man's serious attention. Man may not realise it is God speaking to him. Yet God often speaks "in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on men." At such a time God has a captive audience, whether man wants to listen or not.
Jacob had been using tricks of his own around the breeding of Laban's flocks. The dream told him who was behind the whole thing.
Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle. According to the complaint of Laban's sons, he had "taken all that was our father's." So the contest went on until God stepped in again in a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, and not Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called Jacob out of the whole unpleasant business back to Canaan.
That leaves Jacob's cleverness looking not clever but unnecessary.
He speaks of a dream in which he saw the goats mating in the way that would benefit him. He also speaks of the angel of God showing him that it was God who had caused the animals to bear to Jacob's advantage. This is no doubt true, but it shows us that there was no need for Jacob to resort to his deceitful actions. God would bless him apart from this.
His report to Rachel and Leah is true as far as it goes. But one part of the story never reaches them.
Here we learn that Laban had changed Jacob's wages ten times. When he saw Jacob gaining a lot by one bargain, he would change the terms of his wages. Then the sheep would bear in another way to Jacob's advantage. So he says that God had taken Laban's flocks and given them to Jacob. He does not tell them of his own trickery. It seems he had been able to hide it from everyone except the Lord.
The dream is not a rebuke. God calls Jacob by name, hears his answer, and then settles the account Laban had kept open for twenty years.
Truly Jehovah is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and full of loving-kindness. The words of Laban's sons, and the looks of Laban himself, revealed their discontent — and no wonder. So Jehovah told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers and his relatives. God's providence paid Jacob in about five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years. ... But He had worked to repay the servant for his relative's injustice. And He reminded forgetful Jacob of Bethel, telling him to leave and return to the land of his family.
- Who speaks. The "angel of God" here is not a created messenger. He is God Himself in veiled form, for He says, "I am the God of Bethel."
- How He speaks. God used a dream, where He has a captive audience — a man who cannot argue back, walk away, or stay busy.
- What He says. The flocks multiplied by God's hand, not by Jacob's tricks. The scheming was never needed, for God would bless him anyway.
- What Jacob hides. He tells his wives the true half: God gave him the flocks. He leaves out his own trickery, hidden from everyone but the Lord.
- What God does anyway. He repays in five or six years the wages Laban withheld for twenty. He calls a forgetful man back to Bethel. Mercy, not scolding, moves the story on.
And he said, Lift up now thine eyes, and see all the rams that leap upon the flock are ringstraked, speckled, and spotted; for I have seen all that Laban does to thee.
Jacob's twenty years with Laban are falling apart. In a dream God tells him to lift up his eyes and look at the flocks, then says He has seen everything Laban has done to him.
Jacob had built his herds by his own tricks with the breeding of Laban's flocks. The dream tells him none of that was necessary.
He speaks of a dream in which he saw the goats mating in the way that would benefit him. He also speaks of the angel of God, who spoke to show that it was God who had caused the animals to bear in a way that was to Jacob's advantage. This is no doubt true, but it shows us that there was no need for Jacob to resort to his deceitful actions. God would bless him apart from this.
The dream also ended a long contest of tricks between Jacob and Laban.
Laban, according to Jacob's complaint, changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks connected with the breeding of Laban's cattle... So the contest went on until God stepped in again in a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, not Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business back to Canaan.
God had not spoken to Jacob since Bethel. Now Jacob repeats these words to his wives as he explains why they must leave.
The twenty years had expired. Laban's hatred and the hatred of his sons had increased... This is the first time the Lord spoke since the vision at Bethel. Jacob then laid the matter before his wives and told them about a dream in which the angel of the Lord had spoken to him. What comfort it must have been for him to hear, "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you." The Lord watched over Jacob, and though Laban hated him, Jacob prospered. So Israel in the dispersion, hated by the Gentiles, increases and prospers.
God's seeing was not passive. The flocks changing hands were a settlement of accounts.
God's providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years... He could truly say that if Laban showed ill-will, the God of his father was with him; and that if Laban tried to cheat him, God did not let him be harmed.
The previous verse calls this speaker "the angel of God." Yet He goes on to say, "I am the God of Bethel." Commentators see more here than a created messenger with a message.
The term is used for the mysterious representation of the divine presence, as in Genesis 31:11-13. "The angel of God" spoke to Jacob saying, "I am the God of Bethel."... It is generally believed that it was the second Person in the Trinity who appeared as a man in the Old Testament.
Jacob's years with Laban were not an accident. His own deceit had been met with deceit.
He was cheated about his wife. He was wronged over his wages. He was a wanderer from his father's house and a slave to Laban. All this came from acting in a deceitful way, instead of leaving it to God to fulfil the blessing. In all of it we see real discipline because of evil.
Yet God also kept reminding Jacob of Bethel, the place where He had blessed him.
God blessed Jacob at Bethel through His abundant grace. In later years Jacob needed reminding of this. Again and again God made him feel that he really had been blessed like this. When Laban dealt harshly with him, the angel of God said to him in a dream, "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you. I am the God of Bethel, where you anointed the pillar and where you made a vow to Me: now arise, get out from this land and return to the land of your relatives."
- God sees. One line — "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you" — comforted a man cheated for twenty years. God had been counting every one of them.
- God gives. The dream showed Jacob that the flocks came from God's hand, not from his own tricks. He never needed them.
- God repays. What Laban withheld across twenty years, God restored in five or six, and would not let Laban do Jacob harm.
- God reminds. The speaker calls Himself the God of Bethel. That took Jacob back to the pillar he had anointed and the vow he had made.
- God calls home. Seeing, giving, repaying and reminding all end in one command — leave this land and go back. Discipline for past deceit never cancelled the blessing; it drove Jacob toward it.
I am the God of Bethel, where thou anointedst the pillar, where thou vowedst a vow to me. Now arise, depart out of this land, and return to the land of thy kindred.
After twenty years with Laban, God speaks to Jacob and names Himself from an old memory: the night at Bethel. Why does God tie His name to that place, and why is an old vow the signal to move now?
The words come from "the angel of God" in a dream (v. 11), yet the speaker calls Himself God. Commentators point to other places in Genesis where an angel speaks as God Himself.
The title is used to picture God's own presence, as in Genesis 31:11-13. "The angel of God" spoke to Jacob and said, "I am the God of Bethel." … Most believe it was the second person of the Trinity who appeared as a man in the Old Testament.
Bethel means "house of God." So the name sets God's house against the house Jacob had been busy building for himself.
This name, "the God of Bethel," matters a great deal, because it means "God of the house of God." Jacob had been concerned about his own house (Genesis 30:30). He had let the claims of God's house wait. But the increase of Jacob's house had not produced peace and happiness in all his relationships. It was time for him to learn that true contentment is only found in connection with God's house, where God's interests come first. God also remembered Jacob's vow (Genesis 28:20-22), though He only mentions it without comment.
God's reminder points to what Jacob did at that place, not just to the place itself.
Oil was constantly used in anointing or setting apart persons, places and objects. A striking case is that anointing of the pillar at Bethel by Jacob (Genesis 28:18; Genesis 31:13), where he set apart the place as "the house of God," a kind of anticipation of the tabernacle.
Twenty years had passed, and Jacob had said nothing more about the promise he made that night. God had not dropped it. One writer answers the objection that holding a man to his own words is harsh:
God had not forgotten the original terms, and He would not let His servant forget them. Is this legality? No; it is the display of divine love and faithfulness. God loved Jacob, and He would not allow him to settle for less than the old standard. He watched over the state of His servant's heart with jealous care. He would not let it stay below the Bethel mark, so He gently reminds him with those touching and meaningful words, "I am the God of Bethel, where you anointed a pillar and made a vow." This was the sweet expression of God's unchanging love. It showed that He counted on Jacob remembering the scenes at Bethel.
God ties the order to leave Laban's land to a memory, not to a new revelation. One writer sees a pattern here in God's dealings with His people.
In calling him back to the land of promise, God revealed Himself to him as "the God of Bethel," reminding him of the pillar he anointed and the vow that he made. So God called him back to the beginning of his direct dealings with Him. This is always God's way with His people. We may wander away, but we have to come back to the original spot from which we departed. The point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
The message arrives while Laban is treating Jacob badly. God's first word is that He has seen it (v. 12); His second is who He is.
When Laban dealt harshly with him, the angel of God said to him in a dream, "I have seen all that Laban is doing to you. I am the God of Bethel." … And so we are often told to consider Him, and to remember Him who loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood. Like Jacob, we should count the God of Bethel as our God. Bethel is the place we should visit, to think about His marvellous grace, and how richly and fully He has blessed us.
- Bethel — the name means "house of God." So this title sets God's own house against the house Jacob was busy building for himself.
- Remembered — Jacob made that vow twenty years earlier. God brought it up Himself, without a word of comment.
- Love — the reminder is not legal pressure. It is love and faithfulness. God would not let His servant settle below the Bethel mark.
- Return — the call to leave Laban comes with the memory, because the point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
- Ours — the pattern carries over: remember the One who loved us, and treat the God of Bethel as our God.
And Rachel and Leah answered and said to him, Is there yet any portion or inheritance for us in our father's house?
Jacob has just told his two wives that Laban has turned against him. God kept him safe through twenty years of changed wages, and God has now told him to go home. Their reply is not a pause for thought. It is a question about what is left for them in the house where they grew up.
The two sisters are not weighing up options. Their question is really an answer: nothing in that house holds them any more.
Rachel and Leah were ready to leave at once. They realized that there was nothing to tie them to their father. They remembered one thing: their father had sold his daughters and made himself rich by the sale. It had turned them into near strangers to their own father.
Behind their question stands Laban's own assumption: his daughters were his to sell. That assumption is exactly what cost him.
Leah and Rachel were his daughters, so he thought — wrongly — that they were his property and that he had the right to sell them. They were not his to begin with, let alone after he had sold them. But this verse says it loud and clear: a purely possessive man loses what he holds on to so tightly. Laban found himself poorer in several ways once Jacob had gone. … He feels that he has lost his family. Let us learn the lesson this history teaches: what we own is not ours but the Lord's, and what we selfishly hold on to, we will lose. On the other hand, what we give up unselfishly for the Lord's sake, we will find that we gain in the end.
Laban's wealth had already started to move. God had been paying Jacob the wages his father-in-law held back. The flocks Jacob was about to drive away were back-pay for twenty years of cheating — and his wives took his side.
God's providence paid Jacob in about five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty. Laban and his sons really wanted to be rid of Jacob, but held back from saying so. After all, what did Laban own before Jacob came on the scene? … The two wives agreed completely. Their father had lost all hope of love or respect from them. So, low as their own thoughts were, they encouraged their husband to do as God had told him.
Notice the catch. These women are no models of spiritual insight. Their reasoning runs along the line of money and what is owed to them. Yet they push Jacob the right way.
Their question about a portion leads straight to a conclusion. That conclusion, not the complaint about their father, is the best thing they say.
Their attitude shows that they were convinced their father had acted dishonestly and without feeling. It gives us more evidence of how much Jacob had suffered at his hands. No one could better their advice in this crisis — "Now then, whatever God has said to you, do." Complete trust and obedience to God is the only right thing. It reminds us of the words of Mary, the mother of our Lord, recorded in John 2:5. God alone has the right to demand such unquestioning obedience.
The word the sisters use — portion — is the heart of the matter. They had worked out what they did not have. God's call to Jacob offered him something better than any inheritance: Himself.
At last Jacob had reached the limit of what he wanted. He had gathered to himself large herds, male and female servants, camels and donkeys. For the moment he had nothing left to aim at. So the Lord presents Himself to Jacob as the only worthy object, the true satisfying portion, saying, "Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred, and I will be with you."
- No portion. The sisters ask about their share in their father's house because they already know the answer: nothing.
- Sold. Laban treated his own daughters as goods to trade, and that sale left them strangers in the home where they grew up.
- Lost. Laban's grip on what he called his own is what emptied his hands. What we hold selfishly, we lose.
- Repaid. What Laban held back for twenty years, God handed over in five or six. The flocks going with Jacob were unpaid wages, collected by God.
- Portion. With nothing behind them, the way ahead was one word: "whatever God has said to you, do." God Himself is the portion no father's house could give.
Are we not reckoned of him strangers? for he has sold us, and has even constantly devoured our money.
Jacob has called Rachel and Leah aside. He tells them that God has directed him to leave Laban, and they answer with a question about their own father: he treats them as outsiders. Their words raise two hard questions. What does it mean to be sold by the man who should have protected you? And what does a grasping man lose in the end?
Jacob might have expected his wives to resist leaving their father's house. Instead they had already weighed him up and found nothing to hold them.
Rachel and Leah were fully ready to move at once. They realised that there was nothing to tie them to their father. One thing they remembered: their father had sold his daughters and made himself rich by the sale. So they became almost strangers to their own father.
By now Laban could expect nothing from his daughters. Their own thinking was low, yet their word to Jacob was the right one.
Their father had lost all hope of any love or respect from them. So they, low as their own thoughts were, encouraged their husband to do as God directed.
Jacob had worked seven years for Rachel, and Laban took the profit. One writer weighs that price against what Scripture says a wife is worth.
Proverbs 31:10 says, "An excellent wife who can find? She is more precious than jewels." What was the price in this case? Seven years' wages. It was all completely wrong; a wife is worth a great deal more than that, far more. "He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor from the LORD" (Prov. 18:22) — and favour is grace. So the marriage relationship beautifully represents the pure grace of God. This is something that should never have been so badly mishandled by Jacob. Many nations have done the same and sell their daughters, with the husband paying a dowry when they marry. In reality this is the selling of the woman.
Rachel and Leah were Laban's own daughters. Only his treatment of them had changed. Darby takes their words as a lesson in what "counted" or "reckoned" means.
Genesis 31:15. Are we not counted by him as strangers? Nothing another person does is put to their account. They were treated or reckoned as such — that is just what the word means. We are reckoned righteous. Whether that comes by something put to our account is another question. In the passage quoted it was certainly not so.
(The older translation he uses reads "counted"; the ESV has "regarded by him as foreigners.")
Laban's whole treatment of his family rested on one mistake about ownership.
Leah and Rachel were his daughters, so he thought — wrongly — that they were his property and that he had the right to sell them. They were not his to begin with, let alone after he had sold them. But this verse declares loudly that a man set on possessing loses what he grips so hard. When Jacob left, Laban found himself poorer in several ways. He felt he had lost his family. May we learn the lesson this history teaches: what we own is not ours but the Lord's, and what we selfishly hold we will lose. On the other hand, what we unselfishly give up for the Lord's sake we will find that we gain in the end.
The sisters do not stop at listing their wrongs. In the next verse they tell Jacob what to do.
Rachel and Leah fully supported Jacob in his decision to return. Their attitude shows that they had no doubt about their father's dishonourable and heartless conduct. It is further evidence of how much Jacob had suffered at his hands. No one could improve on the advice they gave in this crisis — "Now then, whatever God has said to you, do." Complete trust and obedience to God is the only right thing. It reminds us of the words of Mary, the mother of our Lord, recorded in John 2:5. God alone has the right to demand such unquestioning obedience.
- Sold — Laban put a price on his own daughters: seven years of Jacob's work. That is the selling of a woman, and it spoils marriage as a picture of grace.
- Strangers — "counted" means treated as, reckoned as. The sisters were not foreign at all, but their father dealt with them as if they were.
- Owned — his mistake was thinking they were his to sell; what we hold as ours is in fact the Lord's.
- Lost — the possessive man loses what he clutches. Laban ended up poorer, and felt he had lost his family. What we give up for the Lord's sake, we gain back.
- Obeyed — having weighed all this, the sisters land on the only safe ground: do whatever God has said.
For all the wealth that God has taken from our father is ours and our children's; and now whatever God has said to thee do.
Jacob has called Rachel and Leah out to the field and told them everything — Laban's shifting wages, God's protection, and the command to go home. Their reply settles it in one sentence: the wealth Laban lost was never his, and Jacob should do whatever God has said.
The sisters trace the wealth to God's act, not to their husband's skill. Jacob had spent the previous chapter working his own schemes with the flocks. Then God stepped in and told him who had really moved the cattle:
Jacob complained that Laban had changed his wages ten times. Jacob got his own back by cunning tricks with the breeding of Laban's cattle. Laban's sons, for their part, complained that he had "taken all that was our father's." So the contest went on until God stepped in again through a dream. He made known to Jacob that it was He, and not Jacob's schemes, who caused the cattle to pass from Laban to him. And He called him out of the whole unpleasant business back to Canaan.
The transfer also settled an old score:
God's providence paid Jacob in some five or six years the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years… After all, what was Laban's wealth before Jacob appeared on the scene?
Rachel and Leah agree at once. The reason lies in how their father had treated them:
Rachel and Leah were fully ready to move at once. They realized that there was nothing to tie them to their father. They remembered one thing: their father had sold his daughters. He made himself rich through their sale, so that they became almost strangers to their own father.
They urge on him no plan of their own, only obedience to what God has said. Another woman would later give the same kind of short instruction:
Rachel and Leah were fully behind Jacob in his decision to return. Their attitude shows how sure they were that their father had acted in a dishonourable and heartless way. It gives us further evidence of how Jacob had suffered at his hands. No one could have given better advice in the crisis — "whatever God has said to you, do." Complete trust and obedience to God is the only right thing. It reminds us of the words of Mary, the mother of our Lord, recorded in John 2:5. God alone has the right to demand such unquestioning obedience.
If God's word is enough to act on, Jacob's own devices were never needed. The lesson runs two ways — what we must not invent, and what we must obey:
We have no need and no right to fall back on plans of our own, as though we could help God achieve His purpose. If, on the other hand, God instructs us by His word to act, it is our duty and our wisdom to do as He says.
Jacob's scheming added nothing to the outcome. It also cost him something:
Suppose he had rested with confidence in God and had not used the devices described in the last chapter. God would still have reached the end He purposed. And Jacob's "righteousness" would have answered for him in a far more convincing way.
Laban's loss was more than bad luck. It shows how grasping works:
Because Leah and Rachel were his daughters, Laban thought — wrongly — that they were his property and that he had the right to sell them. They were not his to begin with, let alone after he had sold them. This verse says it loud and clear: a man who only wants to possess loses what he grips so tightly. When Jacob left, Laban found himself poorer in several ways… Let us learn the lesson this history teaches. What we own is not ours but the Lord's. What we hold for ourselves we will lose. What we give up for the Lord's sake we will find we gain in the end.
- God moved it. The flocks changed hands because God acted, not because Jacob's tricks worked. He told Jacob so in a dream.
- God repaid it. In about five or six years God paid Jacob the wages Laban had kept back for twenty.
- God spoke. Jacob was not left guessing. God called him out of the whole business and back to Canaan.
- So obey it. The sisters called for complete trust and obedience. We have no need and no right to invent plans that "help" God along.
- Grasping loses. Laban clutched daughters, wages and flocks, and lost in all three. What we give up for the Lord we gain in the end.
And Jacob rose up, and set his sons and his wives upon camels,
God had told Jacob to go back to the land of his fathers. This verse is the moment he obeys: the twenty years with Laban are over, and his wives and sons are lifted onto the camels. But the way he left raises the question that shapes the whole chapter: was this faith, or flight?
Jacob had not heard from God since the night at Bethel, years earlier. It came when Laban and his sons had turned against him.
The twenty years were over. Laban's hatred, and the hatred of his sons, had grown. When the crisis came, Jacob heard the voice of Jehovah. "Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred; and I will be with you." This is the first time Jehovah spoke since the vision at Bethel.
The God who called him back named Himself by the place where Jacob first met Him. That detail carries a principle far beyond Jacob:
In calling him back to the land of promise, God revealed Himself to him as "the God of Bethel," reminding him of the pillar he anointed and the vow that he made. Thus he was called back to the beginning of his direct dealings with God. Such is ever God's way with His people. We may wander away, but we have to come back to the very place we left. The point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
Jacob did not move until he had laid the case before Rachel and Leah. Their reply settled it.
Rachel and Leah altogether supported Jacob in his determination to return. Their attitude shows they were sure their father had acted dishonourably and without pity. It gives us more evidence of how much Jacob had suffered at his hands. No one could have given better advice in the crisis — "Now then, whatever God has said to you, do." Complete trust and obedience to God is the only right thing.
Moving a household this size took planning. Jacob timed it for the days Laban was away shearing his sheep.
Jacob did not delay his departure. This time he does not consult with Laban, as he had before. In fact, he does not even inform him that he is leaving. His sons and his wives ride on camels (v. 17). He also had servants to care for the sheep. He organised everything he owned and had it all moving three days before Laban even heard that he had gone.
The way he left exposed Jacob's weakness. He obeyed a clear word from God, yet crept off as though he had none.
His mind is at once made up. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and then sets out in secret. He did not have the kind of confidence in God, held with a clear conscience, that frees a man from fear. The unseen hand of God was there. But God's power and honour could not rightly be seen in a course like that.
His secrecy also gave Laban a fair complaint:
He could have dealt openly with Laban, met him face to face, and left with proper notice. Instead he slipped away unnoticed while Laban was away shearing his sheep. That gave Laban fresh ground for complaint. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant, working for wages, even though he was his master's son-in-law.
Jacob loads his camels and counts the wealth he takes as his own gain. At Bethel he had vowed a tenth to God if God provided for him. So what became of that vow?
God's time has come. God's promise must be fulfilled — to bring Jacob back to his father's house in peace, so that it can be tested whether he will keep his vow. How do things stand with God's name, God's house, God's dues? In Jacob's view that depended on whether he recognised that God had been with him, giving him bread and clothing. If so, Jacob would give back a tenth, set up the house, and own Jehovah. God has taken him at his word, and Jehovah faithfully does His part. But notice what Jacob thought! Had God given him anything? No, nothing. It is all his own gain, which he himself had gained. If he had not looked after himself, he would have been left with nothing.
- Called. After twenty silent years, God spoke again as "the God of Bethel." He called Jacob back to where their dealings began.
- Counselled. Rachel and Leah gave the best advice in the story: whatever God has said to you, do.
- Camels. Jacob obeyed at once. He timed his move for the sheep-shearing and gained a three-day head start.
- Covert. He obeyed God's word, but crept away in fear. God's honour was missing from a journey God Himself had commanded.
- Counting. He counted the wealth as his own gain, not as God's gift of bread and clothing. That is what his vow at Bethel hung on.
and carried away all his cattle, and all his property that he had acquired -- the cattle of his possessions that he had acquired in Padan-Aram, to go to Isaac his father, into the land of Canaan.
Jacob came to Paddan-aram twenty years earlier with nothing but a staff. Now he loads his family onto camels and drives every animal he owns toward Canaan and his father Isaac. Two questions follow. Who made this man rich? And why did a man with orders from God leave in secret?
Jacob moves because God called him. The call reached back to the night at Bethel, where Jacob anointed a stone pillar and made a vow.
God called him back to the land of promise. In doing so He revealed Himself as "the God of Bethel," reminding him of the pillar he anointed and the vow he made. So He called him back to the beginning of his direct dealings with God. This is always God's way with His people. We may wander away, but we have to come back to the original spot we departed from. The point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
The verse repeats itself: property he had gained, livestock he had acquired. One writer sets that repetition beside Jacob's vow at Bethel — if God gave him bread and clothing, he would give back a tenth. (The older translation quoted here reads "his getting, which he had gotten.")
How does it stand with God's name — God's house — God's dues? In Jacob's view that depends on whether he recognises that God had been with him, giving him bread and clothing. If he did, Jacob would return a tenth, set up the house, and acknowledge Jehovah. Jehovah has taken him at his word, and He faithfully does His part. But notice Jacob's thought! Has God given him anything? No, nothing. It is all his getting, which he had gotten. If he had not looked after himself, he would have ended up with nothing.
But what Jacob counted as his own earning was a settling of accounts by a hand he had not seen.
In some five or six years, God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years. They wanted to get rid of Jacob, but held back from saying so. After all, what was Laban's wealth before Jacob appeared?
The word used here for livestock says something about how a herdsman held his wealth.
The word miqneh, however, often used for 'cattle,' means 'possession,' because the main property of nomadic tribes consisted of their cattle. The word also includes sheep and goats, but not horses and donkeys.
The verse names where the wealth was gathered. Paddan-aram was already home ground for Jacob's family.
A cultivated district in Mesopotamia, which held the city of Nahor. Terah and his family moved there from Ur of the Chaldees. Rebekah, Leah and Rachel, the wives of Isaac and Jacob, came from there. It is strictly Paddan-aram, meaning 'table land of Aram.'
Jacob had a command from God, so he had nothing to hide. He hid anyway.
He makes up his mind at once. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and then sets out in secret. He did not have the kind of confidence in God, with a clear conscience, that frees a man from fear. God's unseen hand was in it. But such a course could not rightly show the power and the honour of God.
The secrecy also gave Laban a real complaint against him.
He did not deal openly with Laban. He never met him face to face and left with proper notice. Instead he stole away unnoticed while Laban was away shearing his sheep. In doing so he gave Laban fresh ground for complaint. He had accepted the place of a servant working for wages, even though he was son-in-law to his master.
He is back on the road he once fled along. But the traveller has changed, and not only for the better.
It is a different Jacob as well as a different journey. He was an empty Jacob at Bethel; he is a full Jacob at Peniel. Flocks and herds and servants and wives and children tell of his prosperity. Twenty years before, he had walked that road friendless and alone, with a staff in his hand. Now we see him surrounded like this. He has become a rich man. He has a stake in the world. He has something to lose, and may become a prey to others, as he must certainly be an object of interest to them.
- Called. God's word sends Jacob back toward Bethel, where he first dealt with God face to face. The place of departure becomes the place of recovery.
- Credited. Jacob counts the herds as his own earning. Without his own care, he thinks, he would have had nothing.
- Compensated. God repaid twenty years of withheld wages in five or six. Before Jacob came, Laban had little worth counting.
- Concealed. He had a command and a clear case, yet slipped away in secret. God's hand was in the move. God's honour was not in the manner of it.
- Carrying. The man who once walked that road alone with a staff now walks it rich, with a stake in the world and something to lose.
And Laban had gone to shear his sheep. And Rachel stole the teraphim that [belonged] to her father.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Jacob deceived Laban the Syrian, in that he did not tell him that he fled.
God had just told Jacob to go back to his father's land. Jacob went — but in secret, while Laban was away shearing his sheep. So why does a man obeying God slip away without a word?
The verse calls Laban "the Aramean." Older translations say "the Syrian," and it is the same name. One reference work gathers the early places where Scripture uses it:
There are only a few references to the Syrians in the early part of Scripture. Scripture brings in Laban as "the Syrian" in connection with Rebekah, the wife of Isaac. He was a grandson of Nahor, Abraham's brother. See Gen. 25:20; Gen. 28:5; Gen. 31:20, 24.
Jacob had a clear word from God to return. What he lacked was the settled confidence that would have let him leave openly.
His mind is at once made up. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and sets out secretly. He had no confidence in God with a clear conscience — the kind of confidence that would have freed him from fear. The unseen hand of God was there. But the power and the honour of God could not rightly show themselves in such a course. Grace would give these another day; they could not be there yet. So he steals away timidly, chased like a thief by his father-in-law.
Jacob's conscience explains the secrecy. And his fear does not stop with Laban.
But Jacob has to flee. The time has come for him to return to his father's house, and God tells him to return. Why steal away without a word? Because he was conscious of sins. He knew that he had wronged Laban; hence his trouble and fear. No sooner is he delivered from Laban than the dread of Esau falls on him. God uses it as a means of bringing Jacob to Himself in prayer.
There was a right way to leave. Jacob did not take it.
But in the manner of his departure we again see Jacob's character revealed. He did not deal openly with Laban. He could have met him face to face and left after proper notice. Instead he stole away in secret while Laban was away shearing his sheep. That gave Laban fresh ground of complaint. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant, working for wages, though he was son-in-law to his master. In those circumstances the parting ought to have been arranged by mutual agreement.
Where the verse says Jacob tricked Laban, an older margin reads that he stole Laban's heart. One writer sets that beside everything Jacob had gained, and asks who really gave it.
How does it stand with God's name — God's house — God's dues? In Jacob's view it all turns on one thing. Did he recognise that God had been with him, giving him bread and clothing? If so, Jacob would return a tenth, set up the house, and own the LORD. He has been taken at his word, and the LORD faithfully performs His part. But notice Jacob's thought! Has God given him anything? No, nothing. It is all his own getting, everything he had gained for himself. If he had not looked after himself, he would have had nothing. To Jacob's conscience these were not gifts from God. They were Laban's heart and Laban's images, which he had stolen (Gen. 31:19-20, margin).
Neither man comes out well here. Yet another hand is at work behind them both.
It is a sorry sight to the eye of faith. Laban meets retribution; Jacob and his house find rescue through God's overruling hand and goodness. Yet inside the chosen family the wife had stolen images used in idol worship, and her husband knew nothing of it. And Laban, instead of crushing him, begs him for a covenant. For, as Laban did not fear God, he had no confidence even in his own nearest relation. But what had Jacob still to learn, as he weighed his old self-seeking and scheming before the LORD?
- Command — God told Jacob to return; the going was right, and only the way he went is in question here.
- Craft — He left in secret. He had no confidence in God with a clear conscience, and such a course could not show God's honour.
- Conscience — He ran because he knew he had wronged Laban, and the same fear meets him again in the dread of Esau.
- Cost — He left with no notice while Laban was shearing. That handed his master a fresh complaint, when the parting should have been agreed between them.
- Covering — God still overruled: retribution for Laban, rescue for Jacob. Jacob himself had yet to weigh his old scheming before the LORD.
And he fled with all that he had; and he rose up and passed over the river, and set his face [toward] mount Gilead.
Jacob's years with Laban end not with a farewell but with a head start. He puts a great river behind him and heads for the highlands of Gilead — going where God had told him to go, but going in secret.
The ESV names the Euphrates outright. Older translations read "the river," which is Scripture's own shorthand for it. That same river marked a border God had named to Abraham.
This river is first mentioned in connection with the garden of Eden, but cannot be traced from that. Gen. 2:14. It was the north-east boundary of the land promised to Abraham, as the river of Egypt was the south-west. Gen. 15:18. It is called the great river, the river Euphrates, Deut. 1:7, and at times it is simply called "the river." Gen. 31:21.
Gilead was no random destination. It was high ground with plenty of grazing.
This district lies east of the Jordan. It extends from the river Yarmouk, a little south of the Sea of Galilee, to the north corner of the Dead Sea... It is a mountainous district, which accounts for some part of it being called "the mount of Gilead" in Gen. 31:21-25... Pasturage abounds in Gilead.
God had told Jacob to go home. The going, though, was done Jacob's way — timed for the week Laban was busy shearing sheep, with no word said.
But in the manner of his departure we again see the character of Jacob revealed. He should have dealt openly with Laban, met him face to face, and then left with proper notice. Instead he stole away unnoticed while Laban was away shearing his sheep. In doing so he handed Laban fresh grounds for complaint. He had accepted the place of a servant, working for wages, though he was son-in-law to his master. In those circumstances the parting ought to have been arranged by mutual consent.
Jacob had a direct word from God to go home. He still left in secret, and the writers put that down to something missing in him.
Laban's sons murmur, and their father's face is no longer toward Jacob as before. At last Jehovah tells him to return to the land of his fathers. (Genesis 31:3) His mind is made up at once. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and sets out secretly. He had no such confidence in God with a clear conscience as would rid him of fear. The unseen hand of God was there; but the power and the honour of God could not rightly be found in such a course... So he steals away timidly, pursued like a thief by his father-in-law. But God deals seriously with Laban, coming to him in a dream by night.
Another writer names the reason plainly:
But Jacob has to flee. The time has come for him to return to his father's house, and God tells him to return. Why steal away unnoticed? Because he was conscious of sins. He knew he had wronged Laban, and so he was troubled and afraid.
From the outside this looks like a man running from a soured deal. Underneath, it is a homecoming God arranged.
But Jacob is oppressed and unwelcome among the Gentiles. So he returns to the land of his pilgrimage, the land of the fathers — pushed by circumstances, but in truth directed by God.
Jacob handled the escape badly, and it still worked. The protection was God's, not his.
Jehovah was faithful and gracious; Jacob was a fugitive. Laban soon pursued in hot haste with no friendly intent, but in the end he had to bow to God's protection of Jacob.
The wealth Jacob left with came from God, and it had already soured the household. His leaving turned that souring into open hostility.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that it is the power of God to which he owes the increase... But his prosperity turns Laban against him, just as spiritual increase separates a person from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan. Laban can no longer get on with him, yet his withdrawal makes Laban openly hostile. In the same way, the world feels the sting of separation, though there can be no more fellowship.
- Command. God had told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers; the journey itself was obedience, not impulse.
- Conscience. He left in secret because he knew he had wronged Laban, and a guilty conscience left no room for confidence in God.
- Conduct. He reached the right place by the wrong method. A servant owes his master an open parting, and his secrecy handed Laban a fresh complaint.
- Care. He crossed the Euphrates for the high pastures of Gilead as a fugitive. Laban chased him, and had to bow to God's protection of Jacob.
- Consequence. Blessing had already cost Jacob Laban's goodwill. Separation stings the world, and the parting made that plain.
And it was told Laban on the third day that Jacob had fled.
Jacob has left Haran in secret with his wives, his children and his flocks. For three days Laban hears nothing; then the news reaches him and the pursuit begins.
The three-day gap was not luck. Jacob picked his moment and moved a whole household before the news could travel.
Jacob did not delay his departure. This time he does not consult with Laban, as he had before (ch. 30:25-26). In fact, he does not even inform him that he is leaving. His sons and his wives ride on camels (v. 17). He was able to organise all his possessions and get everything moving three days before Laban even heard that he had left. Jacob owned so much by now that there was of course some distance between him and Laban. Also the time was right for Jacob since Laban was busy with the shearing of his sheep.
God had told Jacob to go home. He did not need to flee, and the reason he did lay inside him.
His mind is at once made up. He gives a moving explanation to Rachel and Leah, and sets out in secret. He did not have the kind of confidence in God, held with a clear conscience, that frees a man from fear. The hand of God was there, unseen. But God's power and honour could not rightly be shown in a course like that. Grace would give him these another day. They could not be his yet. So he steals away in fear, chased like a thief by his father-in-law. God, however, deals seriously with Laban, coming to him in a dream at night.
Jacob had worked for Laban for wages, like a servant. That kind of arrangement carries obligations when it ends.
But in the way he left we again see Jacob's character revealed. He should have dealt openly with Laban, met him face to face, and left with proper notice. Instead he stole away unnoticed while Laban was away shearing his sheep. In doing so he gave Laban fresh ground for complaint, for he had put himself in the place of a servant, working for wages, though he was son-in-law to his master. In those circumstances the two men should have agreed on the parting together.
The manner was wrong; the move itself was not. Jacob had reasons to go, and Laban's own household had given him most of them.
Jacob was under no obligation to stay. Laban and his sons showed plainly how much they disliked his growth and their own decline. He wanted a word from God, Who gave it to him. His wives were of one mind with him. So he seized the first opportunity, which Laban's shearing supplied, to be gone. Now Laban and all the clan overtook Jacob on Mount Gilead. What just objection could they raise?
The scheming did not begin on the night he left. It grew out of what Jacob believed about God's promise.
Now, in Jacob's case, all his toiling and working, like his miserable bargain before, is the result of his ignorance of God's grace, and his inability to put full confidence in God's promise. God had promised him the whole land of Canaan, with no conditions at all. Yet this is the man who could say, "IF God will give me food to eat and clothing to put on." He could have had only a very faint grasp of who God was, or of what His promise was. Because of this, we see him trying to do the best he can for himself.
Laban set out wanting revenge. By his own admission, he never took it.
Laban first speaks of Jacob's foolishness in leaving Haran secretly. He then tells Jacob that he had the power to do him harm. Yet he admits that God stopped his desire for revenge, by warning him to speak neither good nor bad to Jacob.
- News. Jacob left during the sheep-shearing. Laban heard nothing for three days.
- Fear. Fear drove the secrecy: no confidence in God, no clear conscience — so he was chased like a thief.
- Cost. Jacob had served Laban for wages. Leaving without notice gave Laban a fair complaint.
- Right. Even so, Jacob had God's word to go and no duty to stay. Laban had no just objection.
- Restraint. Laban had the power to harm Jacob. He admitted that God's warning stopped him.
And he took his brethren with him, and pursued after him seven days' journey, and overtook him on mount Gilead.
Jacob has slipped away in secret, and three days later the news reaches Laban. What follows is a seven-day chase. It raises one question: who is in control — the man doing the chasing, or the God who had told Jacob to go home?
The distance covered tells its own story about Laban's determination.
The journey was long, but Jacob ought to have realized that Laban would pursue him. Jacob had a three-day start before Laban learned he had left (v.22). Even so, Laban did not delay. He took others with him and went after Jacob. After seven days he caught up with him.
God had already told Jacob to go home. So why the secrecy? One writer traces it to Jacob's conscience.
But Jacob has to flee. The time has come for him to return to his father's house, and God tells him to return. So why slip away in secret? Because he was conscious of his sins. He knew that he had wronged Laban, and so he was troubled and afraid.
The way he left shaped the way he was caught. A man who leaves like a thief gets chased like one.
He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and leaves in secret. He did not have the confidence in God, with a clear conscience, that would have freed him from fear. The unseen hand of God was there. But the power and the honour of God could not be rightly found in such a course... So he steals away in fear, chased like a thief by his father-in-law. God, however, deals gravely with Laban, coming to him in a dream by night.
One writer points to the household idols Rachel had taken as the main reason for the whole chase.
Soon Laban pursued and overtook Jacob. God warned the Syrian to beware how he treated Jacob. It seems the main reason for the pursuit was the teraphim (household gods). Rachel had stolen them, and Laban wanted them back. Laban's household practiced idolatry, even though he used the name of Jehovah (verse 49).
Laban arrives at Gilead as the injured party. But he had no real claim, and his own conscience was far from clear.
Jacob was under no bond to stay. Laban and his sons gave ample signs how distasteful to them were his growth and their decay. He wanted a word from God, Who gave it to him. His wives were of one mind with his own... Now Laban and all his clan have overtaken Jacob on mount Gilead. What righteous objection could he raise? No doubt the warning God gave Laban alarmed his guilty conscience. But there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his own injustice — even if Jacob had been no more than a faithful servant.
Laban set the pace of the chase. He did not decide how it ended.
Jehovah was faithful and gracious, Jacob a fugitive. Laban soon pursued in hot haste with no friendly intent, but in the end he had to bow to God's protection of Jacob.
One writer follows the story past the moment Laban catches up.
Laban is warned to be careful what he says or does to Jacob, and he is even forced to admit it himself. While Jacob lays his complaint before him, Laban in the end cannot help seeking Jacob's help, and he enters into a special covenant with the very man he had overtaken in his flight.
Nothing in Jacob's conduct here earns the protection he receives, and that is exactly the point the chase makes visible.
Jacob was not walking with God at this time, but God was walking in pure grace with Jacob. This is also a picture of God's preserving hand over the nation of Israel. That hand stays on them even when they have failed badly and are wandering and seeking their own way.
- Conscience — Jacob slipped away because he knew he had wronged Laban. Guilt, not faith, set the terms.
- Consequence — a man who leaves like a thief is chased like one. Laban chased him seven days and caught him at Gilead.
- Case — Laban had no righteous claim. Jacob was free to go, and it was Laban's conscience that was uneasy.
- Control — the pursuit was hot and unfriendly. In the end Laban had to bow to God's protection of Jacob, and make a covenant with the man he had chased.
- Crown — Jacob was not walking with God, but God was walking with Jacob. His preserving hand was grace, not reward.
And God came to Laban the Syrian in a dream by night, and said to him, Take care thou speak not to Jacob either good or bad.
Jacob has slipped away from Haran with his family and flocks, and Laban has chased him down for seven days. Before they meet, God warns Laban in a dream, and the ban on even a good word raises a question about who is really in charge here.
Jacob's secret escape was no act of faith. It did not stop God from acting for him. (Older translations call Laban "the Syrian" rather than "the Aramean.")
Jacob set out secretly. He did not have the kind of confidence in God, with a clear conscience, that sets a man free from fear. God's unseen hand was there, but the power and the honour of God could not rightly be found in such a course. So he steals away timidly, chased like a thief by his father-in-law. God, however, takes Laban firmly in hand and comes to him in a dream by night. He warns Laban the Syrian to be careful what he says or does to Jacob, and Laban himself ends up admitting it.
The way Jacob left gave Laban a real grievance. And the man God warns in the dream is a stranger to Him.
By stealing away while Laban was off shearing his sheep, Jacob gave him fresh ground of complaint. Jacob had accepted the place of a servant working for wages, though he was son-in-law to his master, and the parting ought to have been arranged by mutual consent. The situation had become critical — so critical that God stepped in. This time He spoke to Laban, who had no direct knowledge of Him. Laban speaks of Him to Jacob as "the God of your father." In a dream God warned Laban not to overtake Jacob with violent speech or action. Because of this, Laban took an attitude only of complaint, with a note of reproach in it about the stealing of his gods.
The ban on speaking "bad" is easy to understand; Laban was furious. The ban on speaking "good" is the surprise, and it defines the whole scene.
Of course, he was most likely to speak bad to Jacob, for he was angry with him. God made it clear that Laban was not Jacob's judge. It is interesting, however, that Laban must not speak good to Jacob. Why is this? It is because God was dealing with Jacob, and Laban must not interfere.
Later, face to face with Jacob, Laban repeats the warning himself.
Laban tells him that he had the power to harm Jacob. Yet he admits that God's warning — to speak neither good nor bad to Jacob — stopped his desire for revenge.
A stopped hand is not a softened heart.
The warning God gave Laban alarmed his guilty conscience. But no true fear of God was there, and no sense of his own injustice — even if Jacob had been no more than a faithful servant.
The same rule reaches far past one family quarrel. Grant applies it to the way nations treat a people God is dealing with Himself.
This reminds us of God's words to Laban: "Be careful not to say anything to Jacob, either good or bad" (Gen. 31:24). God was dealing with Jacob. Laban must not excuse Jacob or defend him in wrongdoing, and he must not accuse or condemn him either. Nations too must learn to leave others for God to deal with, instead of taking it on themselves to interfere one way or the other.
- Pursuit. Jacob ran in fear, and Laban chased him like a thief. The fault in his flight did not stop God from meeting Laban on the road.
- Intervention. The crisis was serious enough that God spoke to a man who did not know Him, warning him off violent speech and violent action.
- Silence. God forbade even a good word, because Laban was not Jacob's judge. God was dealing with Jacob Himself.
- Restraint. Laban had the power to harm, and he admitted that the warning stopped his desire for revenge. It alarmed his conscience, but it gave him no true fear of God.
- Reach. One warning to an angry father-in-law becomes a standing lesson. Where God is dealing with someone, others must not step in to defend or to condemn.
And Laban came up with Jacob; and Jacob had pitched his tent on the mountain; Laban also with his brethren pitched on mount Gilead.
Two camps sit on the same ridge in Gilead. One is Jacob's. The other belongs to the uncle who has chased him for seven days. The meeting looks like the moment everything falls apart. But God has already spoken to Laban in the night, and the reader knows what Jacob does not.
The "mount of Gilead" is not one peak. It is a whole highland region east of the Jordan:
This district lies east of the Jordan. It stretches from the river Yarmouk, a little south of the Sea of Galilee, to the north corner of the Dead Sea... It is a mountainous district, and that is why part of it is called "the mount of Gilead" in Genesis 31:21-25. Some of the mountains are 2,000 to 3,500 feet high... Gilead has plenty of pasture.
Good grazing land is where a man moving flocks would stop. It is also where a pursuer would find him.
The problem was not that Jacob left. It was how he left:
But the way he left shows us Jacob's character again. He could have dealt openly with Laban, met him face to face, and then left after proper notice. Instead he slipped away unnoticed while Laban was away shearing his sheep. That handed Laban fresh ground for complaint. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant working for wages, even though he was his master's son-in-law. In that situation, the two of them should have agreed on the parting together.
Jacob made up his mind quickly. But he left in secret, and one thing was missing:
His mind is made up at once. He gives a moving explanation to Rachel and Leah, and then leaves in secret. He did not have the kind of confidence in God, held with a clear conscience, that frees a man from fear. God's unseen hand was there. But a course like that could not rightly show the power and the honour of God... So he slips away in fear, and his father-in-law chases him as if he were a thief. God, however, deals seriously with Laban, and comes to him in a dream at night.
The dream came before the two camps ever faced each other. And its terms are strange — Laban was forbidden to say anything good as well as anything bad:
Of course, he was likely to say something bad to Jacob, since he was angry with him. God made it clear that Laban was not Jacob's judge. But it is striking that Laban must not say anything good to Jacob either. Why is that? Because God was dealing with Jacob, and Laban must not interfere.
The chase was meant to put Jacob in the wrong. It did the opposite. Laban had no fair complaint to make, and his own words gave him away:
Laban and all his clan have now caught up with Jacob on mount Gilead. What fair objection could he raise? The warning God gave him certainly alarmed his guilty conscience. But there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his own injustice — even if Jacob had been nothing more than a faithful servant... He may have feared being robbed or attacked, but the loss he complained about was his stolen gods. He valued them next after his profits, and he admitted he worshipped idols without any shame.
What happened to Jacob here would later happen to a whole nation:
When Jacob finally left his house, it was like an escape from an enemy's hand, or out of a bird-catcher's trap. It was a kind of exodus... Laban was Jacob's Pharaoh, and Padan-aram was his Egypt. Laban would gladly have kept him slaving away, or at best sent him off with nothing. But the Lord pleaded for Jacob with Laban, as He later pleaded for Israel with Pharaoh.
Seen this way, the two tents on Gilead are the last act of a long captivity. The pursuer arrives with power in his hand and a muzzle on his mouth.
- Overtaken. Laban caught up with Jacob in the hills of Gilead, where the grazing was good and the flocks could rest.
- Undermined. Jacob slipped away in secret instead of parting face to face. That handed Laban a fresh complaint.
- Afraid. Jacob's secrecy came from a conscience that was not clear, not from trust in God.
- Restrained. God reached Laban first, in a dream. Laban could say nothing good or bad, because God, not Laban, was dealing with Jacob.
- Delivered. The escape is a small exodus. The Lord pleaded Jacob's cause with Laban, as He later pleaded Israel's with Pharaoh.
And Laban said to Jacob, What hast thou done, that thou hast deceived me, and hast carried away my daughters as captives of war?
Laban overtakes Jacob on Mount Gilead, and his first words are an accusation. Two questions follow. Why did Jacob leave in secret at all, and does Laban have any right to speak this way?
God had told Jacob to go home, yet he left without a word. One writer traces the secrecy to a conscience that was not clear:
His mind is at once made up. He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and sets out secretly. He does not have the confidence in God, held with a clear conscience, that frees a man from fear. God's unseen hand was there. But such a course could not rightly display the power and the honour of God. So he steals away timidly, pursued as if he were a thief by his father-in-law.
Another writer names what that conscience was troubled about:
Why steal away unawares? Because he was conscious of his sins. He knew that he had wronged Laban, and so he was troubled and afraid.
Laban's words cast the leaving as a kidnapping:
He asks why Jacob had sneaked away in an underhand manner, as though he was carrying Laban's daughters away as captives (v. 26).
Laban had the men and the motive to do worse than talk. What stopped him was the warning God had given him the night before:
The situation had become critical — so critical that God stepped in. This time He spoke to Laban, who had no direct knowledge of Him. Laban speaks of Him to Jacob as "the God of your father." In a dream God warned Laban not to overtake Jacob with violent words or actions. Because of that warning, Laban took up an attitude only of complaint, with a note of reproach in it about the stealing of his gods.
Laban speaks as the wronged party, and commentators weigh his case differently. One asks what real objection he had:
Here everything is brought into the light, and Laban brings on himself the proofs of his selfishness and dishonesty. Jacob was under no bond to stay. Laban and his sons gave ample signs how distasteful his growth and their decay were to them. He wanted a word from God, and God gave it to him. His wives were of one mind with him. Now that Laban and all his clan had overtaken Jacob on Mount Gilead, what fair objection could he raise? No doubt the warning God gave Laban alarmed his guilty conscience. Yet there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his own injustice — even if Jacob had been no more than a faithful servant.
Both men are playing the same game. Only one of them had been to Bethel:
The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban, and both strain every nerve to outwit each other. Nor can we wonder at Laban, for he had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth. He had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of the Lord... No wonder, then, that he should show a grasping, grovelling spirit. He had no other resource. You cannot expect anything from worldly men but a worldly spirit, and worldly principles and ways. But Jacob had seen and heard all this at Bethel. To find him struggling with a man of the world, and trying by such means to build up property, is especially humbling.
One writer reads Jacob's whole time with Laban as God measuring back to him what he had measured out:
He is now a stranger, a servant for hire, the victim of deceit and self-advancement by Laban — his relative by blood, and just as near to him in character. It is impossible to mistake the repayment all the way through, in which the measure he has given to another is measured back to him. But it is impossible also not to see that in the way it is dealt out God is speaking to the heart and conscience of the wanderer. There is fairness in God's government, but also the chastening of a holy love.
- Cause. Jacob had a word from God to go, but a guilty conscience robbed him of an open course, so he stole away "pursued as if he were a thief."
- Charge. Laban's "captives of the sword" recasts a lawful departure as a raid, and Jacob's secret exit gave him the ground to say it.
- Curb. A warning from God in a dream had already tied Laban's hands, leaving him words and nothing more.
- Cover. The loud outrage covered a guilty conscience of his own — alarm at God's warning, but no fear of God and no sense of his own injustice.
- Correction. Laban deceived the deceiver — God measuring back to Jacob what he had measured out, with the chastening of a holy love in it.
Why didst thou flee away covertly, and steal away from me, and didst not tell me, that I might have conducted thee with mirth and with songs, with tambour and with harp;
Laban has chased Jacob down after his secret flight. His first move is not violence but complaint: he says he was cheated out of a farewell party, complete with music. Was the hurt genuine? And why does Scripture record a party that never happened?
Laban's protest is not pure invention. Jacob's way of leaving gave his father-in-law something to point at.
But the way he left shows us Jacob's character once more. He could have dealt openly with Laban, met him face to face, and left after giving proper notice. Instead he slipped away unnoticed while Laban was away shearing his sheep. That handed Laban a fresh reason to complain. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant working for wages, even though he was his master's son-in-law. In that situation, the two of them should have agreed on the parting together.
Behind the secrecy was fear. God's hand was with Jacob, but Jacob did not lean on Him enough to leave openly.
He explains himself to Rachel and Leah in moving words, then leaves in secret. He did not have the kind of confidence in God, joined with a clear conscience, that would have freed him from fear. God's unseen hand was there. But a course like that could not rightly display God's power and honour. Grace would give these another day; they could not properly be so yet. So he slips away in fear, chased like a thief by his father-in-law. God, however, deals firmly with Laban, coming to him in a dream at night.
The instruments Laban names were already old by Jacob's day. Older translations call the tambourine a "tabret" and the lyre a "harp."
The harp and the pipe were in use as early as Gen. 4:21. Laban, when finding fault with Jacob for secretly leaving him, said he would have sent him away "with songs, with tambourine, and with harp." Gen. 31:27. … When Moses sang the song of triumph at the Red Sea, Miriam answered with a tambourine in her hand.
Laban paints himself as a loving father robbed of his goodbye. His own record with his family says otherwise.
He pretends that Jacob left simply because he missed home. His own conscience must have told him many a very different reason. He acts hurt and angry that he had no chance to kiss his daughters and grandchildren, or to send them off with honour. Yet his conscience must have reminded him how he had sold them again and again. He acts concerned for them, now that they are passing into Jacob's hands, as if his own hands had been a father's hands to them.
God's warning in the night stopped Laban's mouth without softening his heart. Set his complaint beside the day Rebekah left that same home. The difference is plain.
There is no doubt: the warning God gave Laban alarmed his guilty conscience. Yet there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his own injustice — not even toward a man who had served him faithfully. Still, on both sides, what a contrast with the day Rebekah left that same house! She seems to have gone without mirth and songs, without tambourine and harp, but with love and honour, with the fear of God, and the assurance of His blessing. Much of that had gone from that home.
Laban talks about songs, but no song is sung here. The Bible saves its first recorded singing for another day.
It is remarkable how, all through the Scriptures, singing is the response to redemption. Genesis 31:27 mentions songs as something that might have happened. But the first actual record of singing is in Exodus 15, after God had redeemed Israel out of Egypt.
Jacob had just escaped from Padan-aram, the country where Laban lived.
In the end, Jacob's departure from his house was like an escape from an enemy's hand, or out of a bird-catcher's trap. It was a kind of exodus. What Israel went through later as a nation, Jacob went through as a family. For Jacob, Laban was a Pharaoh, and Padan-aram an Egypt.
- Flight — Jacob left in secret rather than face Laban. That silence handed his master a fair complaint.
- Fear — Jacob slipped off because he lacked confidence in God and a clear conscience, even though God's unseen hand was with him.
- Pretence — Laban mourns a missed farewell, yet he had sold his own daughters again and again.
- Restraint — God's warning in the night alarmed Laban's conscience but never gave him the fear of God. He was checked, not changed.
- Song — The music Laban promised was never played. The Bible's first recorded song comes only after redemption, at the Red Sea, when God had brought Israel out of Egypt.
and hast not suffered me to kiss my sons and my daughters? Now thou hast acted foolishly.
Laban has chased Jacob down after his secret escape, and now he unloads his grievance. The charge sounds tender — a grandfather robbed of a goodbye — but two questions sit under it. Was Laban's affection real? And why did Jacob run?
Laban treats the escape as if his daughters had been kidnapped, and ends with a verdict on it.
He asks why Jacob had sneaked away so deceitfully, as though he was carrying Laban's daughters off as captives (v. 26). Why act in such secrecy, without even a word to Laban? It left Laban no chance to give them a pleasant send-off, or even to kiss his daughters and their children goodbye. He does not hesitate to tell Jacob that he has acted foolishly in this.
The problem was not that Jacob left. It was how he left.
But the way he left shows us Jacob's character again. He could have dealt openly with Laban, met him face to face, and gone with proper notice. Instead he slipped away in secret while Laban was away shearing his sheep. That gave Laban fresh ground for complaint. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant working for wages, though he was his master's son-in-law. In that position, the two of them should have agreed the parting together.
God had already told Jacob to go home. So the secrecy came from something inside him.
But Jacob has to run. The time has come for him to return to his father's house, and God tells him to return. So why slip away in secret? Because he was conscious of his sins. He knew that he had wronged Laban, and so he was troubled and afraid.
Another writer links that secrecy to a missing confidence in God:
His mind is made up at once. He explains himself movingly to Rachel and Leah, and then sets out in secret. He had no such confidence in God, held with a clear conscience, as would have freed him from fear. God's unseen hand was there. But the power and the honour of God could not rightly be seen in a course like that.
Laban speaks here of "my sons and my daughters." One writer weighs that fatherly claim against what Laban had actually done.
He pretends that Jacob left him out of simple homesickness, while his conscience must have told him many a very different reason. He puts on grief and outrage at missing the chance to kiss his daughters and grandchildren, and to send them off with honour — while his conscience must have reminded him how he had sold them again and again. He acts concerned for them, now that they are passing into Jacob's hands, as if his own hand had been a father's hand to them.
Laban's complaint could have gone much further than words. One writer explains why it did not.
The situation had become critical — so critical that God stepped in. This time He spoke to Laban, who had no direct knowledge of Him; Laban speaks of Him to Jacob as "the God of your father." In a dream God warned Laban not to overtake Jacob with violent words or violent action. Laban took that warning into account, and kept to protest alone, with a note of reproach in it about the stealing of his gods.
Years earlier Rebekah had left this same home. Set the two departures side by side and you see what had drained out of the place.
The warning God gave Laban clearly alarmed his guilty conscience. Yet there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of how unjust he had been — even if Jacob had been nothing more than a faithful servant. On both sides, what a contrast with the day when Rebekah left the same home! That day, it seems, had no laughter and songs, no tambourine and harp, but love and honour and the fear of God and the certainty of His blessing — and most of that had now left the household.
- Guilt drove the secrecy. God had told Jacob to go home. He still left in secret, because he knew he had wronged Laban.
- Manner matters as much as the move. Jacob was free to go. Going without notice, while still a hired servant, handed Laban a fresh complaint.
- Pretence dresses the complaint up. The man grieving over a missed goodbye had sold those same daughters, and his conscience knew it.
- Restraint is God's, not Laban's. A warning in a dream turned a dangerous pursuit into nothing more than a speech.
- Contrast is the verdict. Rebekah left that home with love, honour and blessing. Jacob's family left it by stealth — the measure of how far both sides had drifted.
It would be in the power of my hand to do you hurt; but the God of your father spoke to me last night, saying, Take care that thou speak not to Jacob either good or bad.
Laban has chased Jacob for seven days and caught him in the hills, with his relatives behind him and every advantage on his side. He boasts about the harm his hand could do, then admits that a word spoken to him in the night has taken that option away.
Laban is not bluffing about his strength. He has the men and the grievance. What he does not have is permission — God had settled that in the night, before Laban ever reached him.
Laban has just called Jacob foolish for leaving Haran in secret. Now he tells Jacob that he had the power to harm him. Yet he admits that God's warning stopped his desire for revenge — a warning to speak neither good nor bad to Jacob.
The chase started with one intention and ended with another.
The Lord was faithful and gracious; Jacob was a fugitive. Laban chased him in hot haste with no friendly intent. In the end he had to bow to God, who was protecting Jacob.
Notice how Laban refers to God: not as his own, but as belonging to Jacob's family.
The situation had become critical — so critical that God stepped in. This time He spoke to Laban, who had no direct knowledge of Him; when Laban speaks of Him to Jacob, he calls Him "the God of your father." In a dream God warned Laban not to overtake Jacob with violent words or actions. Because of that warning, Laban could only protest, with a note of reproach in it about the stealing of his gods.
This was how God worked before there were written Scriptures. He dealt with people one at a time, and not only with the family He had chosen.
In the days of the patriarchs, we may say that God revealed Himself only to individuals. He made His mind known this way to Noah, to Abraham, and even to men who knew little of Him, such as Abimelech and Laban. He often used a dream or a vision, but what came was a divine revelation.
Laban obeys the warning, yet his obedience proves nothing about his heart. He drops the violence and keeps the self-interest.
God's warning certainly alarmed Laban's guilty conscience. But there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his injustice — even if Jacob had been no more than a faithful servant... If he dreaded being robbed or attacked, he complained about his stolen gods. He valued them next to his gains, and felt no shame in admitting his idol worship. Where that is found, Satan has already brought in darkness and death.
When Jacob answers Laban a few verses later, he throws this dream back at him. The night visit protected one man and exposed the other.
In the end Jacob's words to Laban were very strong. He told him to his face about the hard terms of service he had imposed. He treated God's warning to Laban as more than a kind intervention on his own behalf: it was a rebuke to Laban, and so indeed it was, without a doubt.
Jacob answers Laban in anger — and even in anger he sees clearly who had kept him.
Jacob knew nothing about the stolen gods. He broke into unusual anger with Laban, and he exposed his greed and complete lack of justice, to say nothing of affection. He spared him nothing. He could truly say that, but for God's overruling, he would now have been sent away empty.
This was not a one-off. His whole life told the same story.
His own scheming never saved him from a single danger. Yet Jacob can pass over all his own failures, caught up in the overwhelming thought of God's grace towards him.
- Power. Laban did have the strength to hurt Jacob. The verse does not deny his boast; it reports what stopped it.
- Restraint. God stopped his appetite for revenge instead of satisfying it. He let Laban catch Jacob, but not touch him.
- Word. God used a dream, and He used a man who did not know Him — a man who could only call Him "the God of your father."
- Conscience. The warning alarmed Laban's guilty conscience, but it gave him no true fear of God. He still wanted his idols back.
- Keeping. Jacob's craft had earned him nothing here. But for God's overruling he would have gone home empty — his safety was grace, not cleverness.
And now that thou must needs be gone, because thou greatly longedst after thy father's house, why hast thou stolen my gods?
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Jacob answered and said to Laban, I was afraid; for I said, Lest thou shouldest take by force thy daughters from me.
Laban has chased Jacob down and caught him on Mount Gilead. He wants to know why his son-in-law slipped away in secret with his daughters and grandchildren. Jacob's answer is one word: fear. Why was a man sent home by God's own word afraid at all?
God had told Jacob to go back to his own land. One writer notes what was missing when Jacob slipped away.
He gives a touching explanation to Rachel and Leah, and then leaves in secret. He did so because he had no such confidence in God, with a clear conscience, as would have freed him from fear. The unseen hand of God was there. But such a course could not rightly show the power and the honour of God.
One commentator weighs whether the danger Jacob names was ever real.
Jacob answers his first question first. He excuses his secret departure on the ground that he was afraid Laban might take Leah and Rachel from him by force. This was not sensible. Laban was not likely to want two daughters back under his roof to care for, along with their children, with no prospect of their finding husbands. Besides, Laban had sold his daughters at a high price.
Fear like this usually has a cause. One writer traces Jacob's fear back to his own conscience.
But Jacob has to flee. The time has come for him to return to his father's house, and God tells him to return. Why steal away in secret? Because he was conscious of sins. He knew that he had wronged Laban, and that is where his trouble and fear came from. As soon as he was free from Laban, the dread of Esau fell on him. God uses it to bring Jacob to Himself in prayer.
Jacob's fear did not protect him. It gave his father-in-law a genuine grievance to hold over him.
But in the manner of his departure we again see the character of Jacob revealed. He did not deal openly with Laban. He could have met him face to face and left with due notice. Instead he stole away while Laban was away shearing his sheep. That gave Laban fresh ground of complaint. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant, working for wages, though he was his master's son-in-law. In those circumstances the two men should have agreed the parting together.
Years before, Rebekah had left that same household to become Isaac's wife. One writer sets the two leavings side by side.
Jacob was under no obligation to stay… He wanted a word from God, and God gave it to him. His wives were of one mind with him. So he seized the first opportunity, which Laban's sheep-shearing gave him, to be gone. Now that Laban and all his clan had overtaken Jacob on Mount Gilead, what fair objection could be raised? The warning God gave Laban certainly alarmed his guilty conscience, though there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his own injustice.
The danger Jacob feared was already dealt with before the two men met.
The situation had become critical. It was so critical that God stepped in. This time He spoke to Laban, who had no direct knowledge of Him. Laban speaks of Him to Jacob as "the God of your father." In a dream God warned Laban not to overtake Jacob with violence of speech or action. Because of this, Laban only argued with him, with a note of reproach about the stealing of his gods.
Jacob's next fear was Esau. One writer draws the lesson from both.
God appeased Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts, and put all our fears to flight… He gives sweet evidence of His faithfulness to those who put their trust in Him. Yet why are we so ready to doubt and hesitate on every fresh occasion? The answer is simple: we do not know God well enough.
- Fear speaks. Jacob's own reason for slipping away is not faith. It is fear that Laban would seize his wives by force.
- Fear's root. He knew he had wronged Laban. A guilty conscience left him without the confidence in God that would have freed him from fear.
- Fear's arithmetic. The danger he imagined was unlikely, and he was free to leave in any case. Laban had no reason to want two daughters and their children back under his roof.
- Fear's cost. Slipping away in secret solved nothing. It handed Laban a real complaint and turned an agreed parting into a chase.
- Fear's cure. God had already warned Laban in a dream, and later He softened Esau. Better plans do not put our fears to flight. Knowing God better does.
With whomsoever thou findest thy gods, he shall not live. Before our brethren discern what is thine with me, and take [it] to thee. But Jacob did not know that Rachel had stolen them.
Jacob is fleeing from his father-in-law Laban. Laban catches up and accuses him of stealing his gods. Sure of his own household, Jacob offers a full search and calls for the death of the thief. He has no idea that his beloved Rachel is the one who took them.
These "gods" were household images. One writer explains what such images were, and how Jacob judged them.
The image (teraphim) ranks a little below the idol. It is a lesser god whose domain is the household. People treated it as important, and at times they even consulted it. Superstitions like this soon lead to real idols. That is how Jacob judged the matter when he told Laban to take back his gods.
Another writer says what the images were used for, and why Rachel wanted them.
Teraphim were small images, used for purposes of divination. The incident shows us how far spiritist practices had spread. People revered and valued these little "household divinities", and women often valued them most. That explains why Rachel was eager to keep them with her as they travelled away from her old home. Pagan practices spread very easily.
Jacob's challenge shows how much he trusted his own camp.
Jacob did not suspect anyone in his company of stealing Laban's idols. Rachel was probably the last person he would suspect. He invites Laban to search through everyone's goods and to put the thief to death (v. 32). What a shock it would have been to him if Laban had found her!
His ignorance was real, and it explains how freely he spoke.
How little Jacob knew that Rachel had stolen Laban's teraphim, to her own shame! She had already shown herself a victim of low, vile superstition, and that kind of superstition opens the way to secret idolatry. But Jacob had no suspicion that his beloved wife was guilty. If he had, he would not have been so quick to propose that such a person should not live.
Her theft showed what she was leaning on.
Rachel had stolen the teraphim (household images) that belonged to her father (v. 19). She had not learned to walk by faith in the living God, but like her father, she needed to depend on what she could see. She was a beautiful woman. Yet her desire for a religious atmosphere allowed her to indulge in stealing, idolatry and deceit.
The verse holds up a mirror. The one person Jacob never suspected was sitting on the stolen images.
Rachel was like most of us. We know well how to hide our idols and to deceive even our own loved ones! In fact, Rachel was the last in Laban's search, evidently the least suspected. She was sitting on the images and had a good excuse for not standing.
Jacob spoke a sentence of death without knowing where it fell.
Rachel had sinned greatly. She kept her husband in the dark when he unknowingly said that anyone guilty should not live. Her theft was not only a sin against her father. In what she stole it was a serious insult to God. There is no evidence that she ever judged herself properly. It is plain that Jacob became aware in time of idols in his household. God's call to go up to Bethel laid that sin on his conscience. To take his beloved away was a chastening, not to her only but to him also.
Another writer asks what part Jacob's own love played in the failure:
Rachel stole the images from her father; was it his love for her that led Jacob to allow them in his house? Christian parents sometimes allow things in their homes that they know are wrong. It is a sin to them. When human affection interferes with faithfulness to God, it always brings sorrow.
Searching tents did not remove the images. Something else did.
The thought of God's presence made Jacob remember the false gods. It woke in his soul the conviction that the gods this world worships can never be kept alongside a faithful God. Nothing else can wake this conviction. No amount of experience can ever have the effect that the presence of God produces on a soul. ... Only the presence of God, as light, makes us condemn ourselves. It gives us power to purify ourselves from our deepest idols — the ones we know well but keep hidden.
- Small gods. Teraphim were small household images used to seek guidance. Small enough to sit on, serious enough for Jacob to tell Laban to take them back.
- Hidden. Rachel walked by what she could see, not by faith. Her craving for a religious atmosphere carried her into theft, idolatry and deceit.
- Unsuspected. Jacob offered a full search and a death sentence. He never imagined the guilt was in his own tent, least of all in Rachel.
- Costly. A rash word spoken in ignorance still stood. Writers link Jacob's loss of Rachel to it. Affection that shields wrongdoing brings sorrow.
- Cleared. Laban's search never found the images. Only God's presence brings hidden idols to light, and only that clears a household of them.
And Laban went into Jacob's tent, and into Leah's tent, and into the two handmaids' tents, and found nothing; and he went out of Leah's tent, and entered into Rachel's tent.
Laban searches the camp tent by tent, hunting the household gods that went missing from his house. He finds nothing — and the reader already knows why: the thief is the one wife he has not yet reached.
Laban calls the missing objects his gods. One writer explains what they were, and warns against keeping such things around.
The teraphim was not really an idol, and the Word is careful to keep the two apart. The image (teraphim) ranks below the idol. It is a lesser god whose domain is the household. It carries a certain importance, and people even consult it at times. Such superstitions soon lead to true idols. Jacob judged the matter this way when he told Laban to take back his gods. Often the believer lacks the energy to drive these causes of stumbling out of his family. Each one of us must take this to heart.
The search shows what Laban really came for.
If he dreaded being robbed or attacked, he complained of his stolen gods. He prized them next to his profits, and felt no shame in owning his worship of false gods. Where this is found, Satan has already brought in darkness and death.
Rachel carried the images herself. Commentators see a pattern here, not a one-off slip.
There is a grave lesson lost by those who think there can be no danger of tampering with idols even for believers. There is no reason to suppose that Rachel intended to give up the one true God; even Laban scarcely went so far as that. Yet here, and all through Scripture, we meet the same fact. From the earliest days to the latest, those who acknowledged the living God showed a clear tendency to indulge more or less in idolatry. The case of Solomon is the clearest proof of how great a snare this was for Israel in its brightest days.
Jacob had offered a death sentence for the thief, not knowing who it was.
Jacob did not suspect anyone in his company of stealing Laban's idols — probably least of all Rachel. He invites Laban to search through the goods of everyone with him, and to put the thief to death. What a shock it would have been to him if Rachel had been discovered! But Rachel was like most of us. We know well how to hide our idols and to deceive even our own loved ones. In fact, Rachel was the last in Laban's search, clearly the least suspected.
A tent search can turn up nothing. God's light misses nothing.
You keep some part of your heart shut up from Him. You do not want the light of God's presence to enter that dark room, because it is a secret idol-shrine. You do not want the idol exposed to the light of a rightly jealous God, who says, "I am the Lord your God. You shall have no other gods before me." And remember, an "idol" is anything preferred to Christ and allowed to slip in between Him and the soul. It is useless to hide one corner of your heart from God's searching light while keeping the other part lit up!
Jacob said nothing about the images then. Later, God's call to Bethel did what Laban's search could not.
As soon as God called him back to Bethel, he realised there were evil things in his household, even strange gods. In Genesis 31 we saw how Rachel had carried off from Laban the "gods," or teraphim, that he valued, and there is no record of Jacob objecting to them at that time. But with God before him, he at once became alive to the evil of them. They were to put the things away and to be clean themselves, even down to the clothes they wore.
- Searched. Laban walks through four tents and finds nothing. He came for images he prized next to his profits.
- Small. Teraphim were household images, a step below full idols. People consulted them, and such superstitions lead on to real idolatry.
- Inside. Rachel never meant to give up the true God, yet she carried the images. All through Scripture, people who acknowledged Him still dabbled in idols — Solomon above all.
- Hidden. Laban searched Rachel's tent last, because he suspected her least. We hide our idols well, even from those closest to us.
- Surrendered. No human search found them. God's call to Bethel brought them out, and with them came a demand for cleanness reaching even to the clothes they wore.
Now Rachel had taken the teraphim and put them under the camel's saddle; and she sat upon them. And Laban explored all the tent, but found nothing.
Laban has ransacked tent after tent looking for his household gods, and the search ends at the saddle Rachel is sitting on. How did stolen idols end up inside the family God had chosen, and stay hidden so long?
The Hebrew word behind "household gods" is teraphim.
This is a Hebrew word in the plural. It refers to household idols, like the ones Rachel stole from her father. There, as elsewhere, some Bible versions translate the word "images" and put "teraphim" in the margin. Gen. 31:19, 34, 35. Michal the wife of David had one in her house, and laid it in the bed when David escaped. 1 Sam. 19:13, 16. Micah also had them in his house, and regarded them as "gods." Judges 17:5; Judges 18:14-20. They were used in some way for divination.
Their size is part of the story.
Teraphim were small images, used for purposes of divination. The incident gives us a sidelight on the way spiritist practices had spread. People honoured and valued these little "household divinities," and women often most of all. That is why Rachel was anxious to have them with her as they travelled away from her old home. Heathen practices are very infectious.
Commentators differ on her motive. One writer rejects the kinder guesses:
Rachel's theft brings personal and family idolatry to light — the kind that so often went along with professing the true God. What can be more offensive to God than to make Him a senior or a silent partner in a partnership of gods? The good commentator Matthew Henry makes a strange note: "We are willing to hope that she did not take them away out of greed for the rich metal they were made of… She might have meant to convince her father of the folly of treating as gods things that could not even protect themselves." This is all kindly but unwise. We can learn the true reason from Israel bowing down to the golden calf right after the solemn scenes at Sinai, and from Israel's history down to the captivity in Babylon. We must believe in the godless, evil obsession of the human heart instead of imagining other reasons.
Another reads her as a woman who never let go of what she could see:
Rachel had not learned to walk by faith in the living God. Like her father, she needed to depend on what she could see. Though she was a beautiful woman, her desire for a religious atmosphere allowed her to indulge in stealing, idolatry and deceit. This is common with all human religion: only the true knowledge of the Lord Jesus will preserve us from such things.
The search failed for a reason we should recognise in ourselves.
Rachel was like most of us. We know well how to hide our idols and to deceive even our own loved ones! Rachel was the last in Laban's search, and the least suspected. She was sitting on the images and had a good excuse for not standing.
Jacob had sworn death on the thief without knowing who it was.
How little Jacob knew that Rachel had stolen Laban's teraphim, to her own shame! She had already shown herself the prey of low and vile superstition, which paves the way for idolatry in secret. But Jacob had no suspicion that his beloved was guilty. Otherwise he would never have been so quick to propose that such a person should not live. And she who had played false to God had few scruples about deceiving her father as well as robbing him.
Why would a believing household put up with such a thing?
The image (teraphim) ranks below the idol. It is a half-god whose realm is the home. It carries a certain importance, and people even consult it at times. Such superstitions soon lead to true idols… Often the believer lacks the energy to drive these causes of stumbling out of his family. Each one of us must take this to heart.
Years later, the presence of God did what no experience could.
Rachel, out of fear of Laban, had hidden them under the camel's saddle… The thought of God's presence made Jacob remember the false gods. It awakens in his soul the conviction that the gods this world worships can never be kept alongside a faithful God. Nothing else can awaken this conviction. No amount of experience can ever have the effect that the presence of God produces on a soul.
- Small gods. The teraphim were household images used for divination. They were small enough to hide, so they travelled undetected.
- Sight, not faith. Rachel needed something she could see. That appetite produced theft, idolatry and deceit.
- Well hidden. Laban searched her last because he suspected her least. We too know how to hide our idols from those closest to us.
- Costly ignorance. Jacob swore death on a thief, never imagining it was his beloved wife. Hidden sin endangers a whole house.
- Only light exposes. Tolerated images grow into real idols. No experience removes them. Only the presence of God brings them out.
And she said to her father, Let it not be an occasion of anger in the eyes of my lord that I cannot rise up before thee, for it is with me after the manner of women. And he searched carefully, but did not find the teraphim.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Jacob was angry, and he disputed with Laban. And Jacob answered and said to Laban, What is my fault, what my sin, that thou hast so hotly pursued after me?
Laban has just searched every tent for his stolen household gods and found nothing. Jacob finally breaks his long silence and demands evidence: name the crime that justified this chase.
One writer lists what Jacob had on his side, and how little Laban was left with once the search failed.
Jacob was under no bond to stay. Laban and his sons showed plainly how much they disliked his growing wealth and their own decline. He wanted a word from God, Who gave it to him. His wives were of one mind with him. He therefore seized the first opportunity, which Laban's shearing gave him, to be gone. Now that Laban and all his clan had caught up with Jacob on Mount Gilead, what fair charge could anyone bring? The warning God gave Laban plainly alarmed his guilty conscience. Yet there was no true fear of God in him, and no sense of his own injustice — even if Jacob had been nothing more than a faithful servant.
Jacob was sure of his innocence because he did not know the stolen idols were inside his own camp. One commentator shows how close this outburst came to collapsing — and that Jacob was not blameless anyway.
Then Jacob's self-righteous anger begins to boil (v. 36). If only Laban had discovered the idols, how different this would have been! … Of course, even if there had been no sin of stealing, Jacob had still left in secret without telling Laban.
Jacob's question assumes a clean record. He had made that same claim once before, when he set the terms of his wages.
When Jacob bargained with Laban over his wages, he had taken his stand on righteousness (Gen. 30:33). Had he been righteous? And now, with a bold face and proud words, he asks, "What is my offense?"
Both men were bargainers, and one writer sets them side by side. Only one of them had seen heaven open.
The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban, and each strains every nerve to outwit the other. And we cannot wonder at Laban. He had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth. He had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of Jehovah… But Jacob had seen and heard all of that at Bethel. To find him still struggling with a man of the world, and trying by such means to pile up property, is deeply humbling.
Jacob's safety that day did not rest on the strength of his argument. One writer puts the outcome down to God alone.
Jehovah was faithful and gracious, Jacob a fugitive. Laban soon chased after him at speed, and with no friendly intent. In the end, God's protection of Jacob forced him to give way.
Jacob complains as a man who served hard and was cheated. One writer sets that complaint beside Paul's list of what he suffered.
Jacob could say, "You know that I have served your father with all my strength, yet your father has cheated me and changed my wages ten times," and Jacob became angry and berated Laban. Paul can say, "I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses… For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities." But it is all "for Christ," not for Laban. Not for glory to himself, but for his Lord; not serving for a wife, as Jacob did.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some stress that Jacob's charges against Laban were true. Others press how little Jacob's own record could stand the same test.
- Search — Laban ransacked every tent and found nothing. After that, no one could bring a fair charge against Jacob for leaving.
- Silence breaks — Years of swallowed grievance come out at once. The failed search gave Jacob his opening to speak.
- Claim — Jacob's question rests on his own righteousness. It is the same ground he took when bargaining for wages, and the writers ask whether he ever really stood on it.
- Hidden thing — He is sure of his innocence only because he does not know the stolen idols are in his camp. And leaving in secret was itself something to answer for.
- Keeper — What protected him was not the strength of his case. It was God's warning to Laban, which forced a greedy man to back down.
Whereas thou hast explored all my baggage, what hast thou found of all thy household stuff? Set [it] here before my brethren and thy brethren, and let them decide between us both.
Laban has searched every tent for his missing household gods and found nothing, so Jacob now turns on his father-in-law and asks both families to judge between them. But was Jacob as innocent as he sounded, and who was really deciding this case?
Jacob's challenge is safe, because he already knows what the search turned up:
Then Jacob's self-righteous anger begins to boil… Laban has searched through all of Jacob's possessions. So Jacob tells him to set before everybody anything he found that belonged to Laban. Of course he knew that Laban had found nothing.
The same writer points out what Jacob did not know when he made the challenge:
Jacob however did not at all suspect any of his company of having stolen Laban's idols, probably least of all Rachel. He invites Laban to search through the goods of everyone with him, and to put the thief to death. What a shock it would have been to him if Laban had found Rachel out! But Rachel was like most of us. We know well how to hide our idols and to deceive even our own loved ones!
Commentators do not give Jacob a clean record here. One writer looks at the way he left Laban:
Instead of dealing openly with Laban, meeting him face to face, and then leaving with proper notice, he slipped away in secret while Laban was away shearing his sheep. By doing this he gave Laban a fresh reason to complain. Jacob had put himself in the place of a servant, working for wages, even though he was his master's son-in-law. In that position the two of them should have agreed on the parting together.
By demanding a public verdict, Jacob forces the whole quarrel into daylight — and it is Laban who comes off worst. One writer shows who comes off worse:
Here everything comes out into the light, and Laban brings on himself the proof of his own selfishness and dishonesty… What he feared was being robbed or attacked, and what he complained about was his stolen gods. These he prized next to his gains, with no shame for admitting his heathenism; for where this is, Satan has already brought in darkness and death.
Jacob asks two families to decide between him and Laban. One writer points to God's reckoning, which had already settled the matter — and not because Jacob deserved it:
God's reckoning, not Jacob's righteousness, is why Laban had to pay him wages. God brought him out by His angel. Remember now, Jacob, what the Syrian Laban had planned, and how God answered Laban: "Be careful not to say anything to Jacob, either good or bad."
Kelly notes that Jacob spoke without knowing about the theft, and says where his wealth really came from:
Jacob, who knew nothing of it, broke into unusual anger with Laban. He exposes Laban's greed and complete lack of justice, to say nothing of affection, and spares him nothing. And he could well say that, without God's overruling, he would now be going away empty-handed.
Jacob wants witnesses to decide between him and Laban. The quarrel ends with a pillar set up between them, and one writer reads it as the honest verdict on both men:
He is really telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way also. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban. So this pillar is the milestone in Jacob's life that proclaims clearly the untrustworthiness of the flesh. Very often it takes two parties to expose it to one another!
- Searched — Laban went through every tent and found nothing. Jacob's call for both families to weigh the evidence was a challenge he knew he would win.
- Sheltered — His boldness rested on ignorance. If Rachel's theft had come to light, his own demand for a public verdict would have destroyed him.
- Stained — Jacob had slipped away in secret while Laban was shearing. That gave Laban a real complaint, and it makes the anger here self-righteous.
- Settled — God had already warned Laban to say nothing to Jacob, good or bad. Jacob left rich because God overruled, not because his own record deserved it.
- Stones — The case closes with a pillar standing between two men who could not trust each other, and lasting proof of how untrustworthy the flesh is.
These twenty years have I been with thee thy ewes and thy she-goats have not cast their young, and the rams of thy flock I have not eaten.
Laban has searched Jacob's tents for his missing gods and found nothing, and Jacob finally answers him with twenty years of accounts. The verse raises two questions: was Jacob right to defend himself, and what had God been doing through those hard years?
Jacob points to two details a careless shepherd could never claim. One writer explains what they meant in daily work.
For twenty years, he says, he has served Laban. He had so cared for the females of Laban's flock that they had not miscarried, nor had he taken any of Laban's sheep, even to eat.
Laban had sons of his own, yet Jacob did the work. The same writer asks who was profiting from it.
Laban had sons who could have helped with this work, but it seems they left it to the one who could do it well. Were Laban and his sons all sharing the benefits of Jacob's work without having to work themselves? It seemed so. Employers often think they have the right to reap all the benefits that labor produces, because they put up the original capital. But God takes account of the guilt of employers who oppress their workers (James 5:4).
Jacob had kept quiet for twenty years. One writer reads both the silence and this late defence as God's hand on him.
In all this he is humbled under the mighty hand of God, as a man who would gladly remember his own past ways. And at the end of twenty years of hard work and ill treatment, he is able to testify to his faithfulness, and God Himself seems to seal that testimony.
The same writer does not overstate the change in Jacob. He marks how far the restraint went.
While he lived in the house of Laban the Syrian, Jacob knew that he was under the mighty hand of God for correction, and he behaved that way. He did not defend himself when he was blamed. He did not fight for his rights when he was wronged and treated unjustly.
The years Jacob counts up did not simply happen to him. One writer ties them back to what Jacob had done at home.
Jacob was a man of faith, but failed in spirituality, and comes under the Lord's discipline that he might bear more fruit and better. As he had cheated at home, he suffered abroad, and at the hands of his mother's brother most of all. His patience under Laban's hardhearted wrongs testifies that he bowed to God.
Another writer lists the cost item by item and gives it a name.
He was cheated about his wife. He was wronged over his wages. He was a wanderer from his father's house and a slave to Laban. All this came because he acted deceitfully, instead of leaving God to bring the blessing about. In all of it we see real discipline for evil done.
Commentators differ on the tone of this speech. One reads the quiet years as genuine. Another hears a man claiming a righteousness he never had.
Besides, when Jacob bargained with Laban over his pay, he took his stand on righteousness (Gen. 30:33). Had he been righteous? And now, with a bold face and big words, he asks, "What is my offense?"
One writer sets Jacob's angry complaint beside the boast of a very different servant.
Does Jacob scold in anger when Laban searches his belongings and fails to find his stolen gods? He says, "I have not eaten the rams of your flocks. What was torn by wild beasts I bore the loss of it myself. By day the heat consumed me, and the cold by night … and my sleep fled from my eyes … and you have changed my wages ten times." So another "I" will also boast, as if in folly. Another servant! One who served in love, for love, not money. He announced God's good news free of charge, and took no pay from anyone for shepherding the flock.
Another writer sees Jacob's long years of service as a faint picture of a greater Servant.
He is a picture of a servant too, in some small way not unworthy to foreshadow Him who "took the form of a servant." He submits in silence to the wrongs of a cruel master. He serves patiently and suffers without complaint. Laban changes his wages ten times, but he never answers back.
- Sown — He cheated at home, so he suffered abroad. The twenty years he counts up were the harvest of his own deceit.
- Served — He gave real, careful work: no miscarried young, nothing eaten from the flock he watched.
- Silent — God's hand was on him to correct him. So he did not defend himself when blamed, and did not fight for his rights.
- Seen — God takes account of employers who oppress the workers they profit from.
- Shadowed — A wronged, underpaid servant who never answered back points to One who took the form of a servant.
What was torn I have not brought to thee; I had to bear the loss of it of my hand hast thou required it, [whether] stolen by day or stolen by night.
Laban has caught up with Jacob, who has fled for home with his wives and flocks. Here Jacob opens twenty years of accounts, and his words show what his service cost, why God allowed it, and what kind of servant it made him.
The terms of Jacob's work were harsh. He carried every risk of the flock himself.
He had cared for the females of Laban's flock so well that they had not miscarried. He had not taken any of Laban's sheep, even to eat. If an animal was lost, whether wild animals killed it or someone stole it, Laban held Jacob accountable. Jacob had to pay for the loss. He often suffered from the heat of the day and shivered at night in the cold, unable to sleep.
These two verses are also one of Scripture's clearest windows into the trade itself.
The difficulties and hardships of a shepherd's life in the East may be gathered from what Jacob passed through during the time he was with Laban. Gen. 31:39-40.
This anger was out of character for Jacob. When it broke out, it exposed the man he had worked for.
Jacob, who did not know that anything had been stolen, broke into unusual anger with Laban. He held nothing back in exposing Laban's greed and total lack of justice, to say nothing of affection. He could well say that, but for God's over-ruling, he would have been sent away empty-handed. What could Laban reply, except that everything was his — wives, children, flock? God had no place in his thoughts, and neither had love for his daughters, or their children, or his son-in-law.
Commentators trace these years back to Jacob's own conduct. He used deceit to get the blessing instead of leaving it to God, and he received deceit in return.
He was cheated about his wife and wronged over his wages. He was a wanderer from his father's house and a slave to Laban. All this came because he acted deceitfully, instead of leaving God to bring the blessing about. In all of it we see real discipline because of evil.
Carrying the loss month after month had an effect on Jacob. He knew whose hand was on him, and it shaped how he answered Laban.
In Jacob at Padan-aram, if I am not mistaken, we get a believer under discipline who knows he is under discipline. He understands what the moment means under God's hand. He sees that the Lord's rebuke is right, and he carries himself with meekness and watchfulness. He takes the wrongs of a harsh master in silence. He serves with patience, and suffers without complaint.
The same writer marks the limits of that restraint. It was control, not cure.
We shall find, I know, that after this Jacob is old Jacob still. The same evil that had been working in him from the beginning betrays him again. But while he was in the Syrian's house, Jacob knew that he was under the mighty hand of God for correction, and he behaved that way. He did not defend himself when he was blamed, and he did not fight for his rights when he was wronged and treated unjustly.
Some writers see Jacob's long service for a bride as a picture of Christ.
Leah was bride to a man who pictured Christ as a sufferer. He gave back what he did not take away. Tireless work wore him out, and he laboured while others slept (see Gen. 31:39-40; Luke 6:12) … Jacob went for Leah and won her at the cost of hard service. She first shared his days of toil, before she shared the wealth and glory he gained.
Jacob's recital of his hardships has an echo in the New Testament, where another servant reluctantly lists what his work cost him.
Does Jacob complain in anger when Laban searches his belongings and does not find his stolen gods? He says he never ate Laban's rams, that he bore the loss of the animals torn by wild beasts, that drought consumed him by day and frost by night, that sleep left his eyes, and that Laban changed his wages ten times. Then another "I" also will boast as in folly. Another servant! One who served in love, for love, not money. He announced God's glad tidings free of charge, and took no pay from any man for shepherding the flock … in labour and toil; in many sleepless nights; in hunger and thirst, often without food; in cold and without clothing.
- The charge. Laban billed Jacob for every animal torn or stolen. Jacob paid for losses that were never his fault, by day and by night.
- The cause. The man who had taken his father's blessing by deceit was now cheated over his wife and his wages — discipline, not accident.
- The bearing. Under that hand Jacob served with patience, kept silent under wrongs, and did not fight for his rights. Yet the discipline only controlled the old nature; it did not cure it.
- The exposure. When Jacob does speak, he leaves Laban's greed and injustice in plain sight. Only God's over-ruling kept him from leaving empty-handed.
- The shadow. A servant worn out by toil, working while others slept, paying for what he never took. He is a faint picture of Christ, who gave back what He never took away, and of the servant who shepherded the flock for love and took no pay.
Thus it was with me in the day the heat consumed me, and the frost by night; and my sleep fled from mine eyes.
In one line, Jacob sums up twenty years with Laban: burning days, freezing nights, no sleep. Commentators read the words on three levels: the real cost of shepherding, God's discipline in Jacob's life, and a picture of Christ toiling for His bride.
The complaint is not poetry. It records what the work demanded, and what Laban demanded on top of that.
He had cared for the females of Laban's flock so well that they did not miscarry. He had not taken any of Laban's sheep, even to eat. If an animal went missing, whether wild animals killed it or someone stole it, Laban held Jacob accountable: he had to pay for the loss. He often suffered from the heat of the day. At night he shivered with cold and could not sleep.
What Jacob lived through is treated as the standard window into the trade itself:
The difficulties and hardships of a shepherd's life in the East may be gathered from what Jacob passed through during the time he was with Laban.
The hardship was not random. Writers link it to the way Jacob had gone after the blessing.
God deals with him in government, and measures back to him the measure he used himself. He is continually the target of similar deceit… He was cheated about his wife and wronged over his wages. He became a wanderer from his father's house and a slave to Laban. All of it came from acting deceitfully instead of leaving the fulfilment of the blessing to God. In all this we see real discipline because of evil.
The hardship is not the whole story. God settled the wages Himself, and He settled them fast.
In about five or six years, God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years.
Jacob served for a wife. Commentators find in that service a likeness to Christ.
The Lord Jesus personally has borne the heat of the day all alone. He had nowhere to lay His head, like Jacob — absent from His Father's house and from the place of His inheritance. He was wronged again and again in a world which, like Laban and his household, always seeks its own. Yet He endured all this, and was willing to endure all this, for the love He had for her on whom His eye had rested. It was the same with Jacob: his seven years of service seemed to him only a few days, because of his love for Rachel.
Another writer notes what made those years bearable, and how narrow the likeness is:
But love lightened the burdens and sweetened all the bitterness of those long years… And this is the only phase of his life in which the patriarch Jacob appears to picture our Lord, "who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame." His toil ended, He has taken His seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
The lost sleep gets turned into a job description for anyone charged with caring for God's people.
In Hebrews 13:17 we read of the Guides — the ones who lead, as a shepherd leads and guides the flock. It tells us they "keep watch over your souls." The word "watch" means "to be sleepless," and so "to be vigilant." A good shepherd kept watch over his flock by day and by night, like the shepherds of Bethlehem, or Jacob, who could say, "by day the heat consumed me, and the cold by night, and my sleep fled from my eyes." So should the true overseer watch, by day and by night, over the flock of God.
- Cost. Heat, cold, no sleep, and paying for every animal lost. That was the price of keeping another man's flock.
- Correction. The man who deceived others was deceived in turn. The hardship was discipline, measured back to him in his own measure.
- Compensation. God kept the account. In five or six years He restored what twenty years of cheating had stolen.
- Christ. Jacob's toil for a wife is the one place his life pictures the Lord. He bore the heat alone for love of His bride.
- Calling. The sleepless shepherd becomes the pattern: those who care for God's people are to keep watch by day and by night.
I have been these twenty years in thy house I have served thee fourteen years for thy two daughters, and six years for thy flock; and thou hast changed my wages ten times.
Jacob reads out his twenty-year account to Laban's face: fourteen years for two daughters, six for the flock, and wages changed again and again. Why did God let this go on so long? And what part did Jacob play in his own hard bargain?
The verse is Jacob's own arithmetic. Laban never denied a single figure of it.
He stresses that he had served Laban fourteen years for his two daughters. Of course he had willingly offered to work seven years for Rachel, but had been deceived. Then he had worked six years to gain the large flock he now had. But more: he affirms that Laban had changed his wages ten times (v. 41). This must have been true, or Laban would have denied it. It does show the manipulating character of Laban. He was not at all behind Jacob in this trickery.
Jacob had won his father's blessing by deceit at home. The twenty years abroad answered that.
Genesis 29, 30 and 31 record the years of Jacob's stay in Haran. Those years turned into a duel of diplomacy between Jacob and Laban his uncle. Under the government of God, Jacob found himself in the hands of a man even more selfish than himself. God's discipline fitted his case remarkably well in the matter of his marriage. Laban deceived him about his two daughters, just as Isaac's two sons had deceived Isaac.
The changed wages were not the whole return on what Jacob had planted; the crop kept coming in long after he left Laban's house.
Jacob deceived his old father and stole his brother's birthright. That was bad sowing, but he did not expect the harvest he received. Laban deceived him about his wife, and he had to work another seven years to win her. That was not all the harvest. Laban changed his wages ten times to cheat him. He had twenty years of bitter labour in Syria. Then his own sons deceived him about Joseph. He spent twenty-two years in bitter sorrow, mourning him as dead.
Jacob did not only suffer wrong. He had schemes of his own, and one writer draws the practical lesson.
We have no need or right to fall back on plans of our own, as if we could help God achieve His purpose. If, on the other hand, God instructs us by His word to act, it is our duty and our wisdom to do as He says. Jacob asserted that Laban had changed his wages ten times. If that was true, it was great provocation. But relying on God would have saved him from actions that are also open to question.
Not everything in those twenty years was failure. One writer sees something excellent in how Jacob took the wrong.
But in much of his behaviour during the twenty years he spent with Laban, we see what was excellent in him. Anyone whose mind is right towards God at all must feel the force of knowing that we are under the hand of God for correction... Here we get a saint under discipline who knows he is under discipline. He understands well what the moment means under God's hand, and that the Lord's rebuke is right. He carries himself meekly and watchfully. He takes the wrongs of a harmful master in silence. He serves patiently and suffers without complaint. His wages were changed ten times, but he does not answer back.
Those twenty years were an exile, and one writer finds a wider picture in them.
The Lord brought him to Padan-aram, where he was to dwell as an exile for twenty years. During these twenty years the Lord did not show Himself to him. In the same way, Israel scattered among the nations hears nothing from the Lord.
Jacob's long years of service for the woman he loved also point forward.
Here we find the one who was to own and enjoy her, travelling and toiling for her... He has Himself gone into the distant land. There He laboured, and there He bore reproach and wrong for her. In all this, Jacob sets forth the true Bridegroom. The Lord Jesus Himself has borne the heat of the day all alone. He had nowhere to lay His head, like Jacob. He was away from His Father's house and from the place of His inheritance. The world wronged Him again and again, for like Laban and his house it always seeks its own.
- Sowing. Jacob's deceit at home came back to him abroad, and the harvest was larger and longer than the seed.
- Government. God placed him under a man more selfish than himself. The correction fitted the wrong exactly.
- Wages. The ten changes were real provocation. But Jacob's own schemes were open to question too. Trusting God would have spared him them.
- Patience. He knew he was under God's hand. His wages changed ten times, and he did not answer back.
- Silence. Twenty years passed with no word from God, as with Israel scattered among the nations. Yet the servant toiling in a far country for his bride points on to Christ.
Had not the God of my father, the God of Abraham, and the fear of Isaac, been with me, it is certain thou wouldest have sent me away now empty. God has looked upon my affliction and the labour of my hands, and has judged last night.
Twenty years of work for Laban end in an open quarrel. Jacob names the reason he is leaving rich instead of empty — and he names God twice over, as the God of Abraham and the Fear of Isaac.
One writer takes Jacob's claim as plain fact — about Laban's greed, and about the God who watched Jacob work:
What Jacob says in verse 42 is also very likely true. It was only the intervention of God that enabled Jacob to accumulate the wealth he had. Laban was so greedy of gain that he would have been content to let Jacob leave with nothing at all for his twenty years of work. He says that God had seen his hard work and his suffering, and so had rebuked Laban the night before.
Jacob says he would have gone away empty-handed. One writer shows who settled that account:
Truly the LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The words of Laban's sons, and the looks of Laban himself, showed their discontent — and no wonder. So the LORD told Jacob to return to the land of his fathers and to his relatives. In some five or six years God's providence paid Jacob the wages Laban had cheated him out of for twenty years.
Jacob ends the verse by pointing to the warning God gave Laban the night before. He treats it as more than a favour done for himself:
Jacob saw God's warning to Laban as more than a kind step taken for his own sake. He saw it as a rebuke to Laban — and without a doubt that is what it was.
But a rebuke can strike the conscience and leave the heart unchanged:
The warning God gave Laban clearly alarmed his guilty conscience. But no true fear of God was there, and no sense of his injustice — even if Jacob had been no more than a faithful servant.
Jacob does not say "my God." He borrows the names of the two men before him. One writer counts that as real growth, but only up to a point:
It was something to hear Jacob confessing the name of the God of Abraham and the fear of Isaac (chapter 31:42)... Up to this point Jacob had grown in his sense of God's faithfulness and of His holy majesty. His cattle, servants, camels and donkeys had increased greatly, and all of them disappear at the end. But I doubt he had made much more progress than this growth in confidence in God and fear of Him.
The title "the Fear of Isaac" also says something about Isaac himself. One writer asks what that fear did inside a man who had once told a deliberate lie:
Isaac was a gracious and prayerful person, who knew what it is to meditate in the fields at evening. Could a man with such habits fail to judge his own deliberate lie? It was a stumbling block to the world. It dishonoured his Almighty Protector, his beloved wife, and himself as a saint... Can one doubt, then, that the fear of Isaac (Gen. 31:42) worked in his conscience to humble him and to clear his spirit from deceit.
Jacob's hard years had a shape. One writer sees his own offence at home coming back on him — and sees how he bore it:
Jacob had been only a little while under the trials and sorrows of his stay with Laban. Then he was paid back in the exact pattern of his own offence at home. He had deceived his father about his brother and the blessing. Laban now deceives him about Rachel and the marriage... He submits to the wrongs of an injurious master in silence. He serves patiently, and suffers without complaint.
- Empty. Left to Laban's greed, Jacob would have walked away from twenty years of work with nothing. The wealth in his hands came from God, not from his own cleverness.
- Paid. Laban withheld wages for twenty years. God gave them back in about five or six. He settles unpaid accounts on His own timetable.
- Seen. God had watched Jacob's hard work and his suffering. The warning that stopped Laban was a rebuke, not just a rescue.
- Feared. The warning alarmed Laban's conscience, but left no true fear of God in him. Isaac's fear of God humbled him and cleared deceit out of his spirit. Same word, opposite effect.
- Named. Jacob confessed the God of Abraham and the Fear of Isaac. That was real growth in confidence and reverence — though one writer doubts he had gone much further.
And Laban answered and said to Jacob, The daughters are my daughters, and the sons are my sons, and the flock is my flock, and all that thou seest is mine; but as for my daughters, what can I do this day to them, or to their sons whom they have brought forth?
Jacob has just poured out twenty years of grievance, and Laban does not deny a word of it. He claims to own everything in sight — wives, grandchildren, flocks — yet his boast ends in a helpless question.
One writer tests Laban's claim item by item and finds nothing left of it:
Laban had little to say in his own defence in answer to Jacob's outburst. But he does use the one argument he considered valid: "The daughters are my daughters, the children are my children, the flocks are my flocks" (v. 43). Leah and Rachel had been his daughters, but Laban had sold them. The children were really Jacob's children, though they were Laban's grandchildren too — at least those born to Leah and Rachel. The flocks had been bred from Laban's flocks, but they were the wages Laban had agreed to give Jacob for his work.
Notice what is missing from Laban's sentence. One commentator sets the reply beside Jacob's charge against Laban's greed:
Jacob broke into unusual anger with Laban. He exposes Laban's greed and lack of all justice, to say nothing of affection, without sparing him. He could well say that but for God's overruling he would now have been sent away empty. What could Laban reply but that all were his — wives, children, flock? God was in none of his thoughts, any more than love for his daughters, or their children, or his son-in-law.
The claim is a balance sheet where a father's heart should have been.
Laban says everything is his, then asks what he can do for these daughters and their children. A writer draws the practical rule out of that:
Because Leah and Rachel were his daughters, he thought, wrongly, that they were his possession and that he had the right to sell them. They were not his own to begin with, let alone after he had sold them. But this verse proclaims loudly that a man who only wants to own things loses what he stubbornly tries to hold. Laban found himself poorer in several ways when Jacob left him... May we learn well the lesson that this history teaches: what we own is not ours, but the Lord's, and what we selfishly hold we will lose. On the other hand, what we unselfishly give up for the Lord's sake we shall find that we gain in the end.
Laban had watched God prosper his household through Jacob for two decades. The claim in this verse shows the effect that made on him: none at all.
As to Laban, he was a thorough man of the world when Jacob entered his house, and so he was when Jacob left it. In all his dealings, from first to last, he looks out for his own advantage. He is forced to admit that the hand of God was with Jacob. But he would make that hand, through Jacob, serve himself, and turn Jacob's interest in God to his own account. For twenty years he had the evidence of the hand of the Lord, and the working of His grace and power, under his eye and in his house, and that daily. Yet he continued a man of the world still... And Jacob's departure from his house at the last was like an escape out of the enemy's hand.
If Laban talks like a man who owns everything, that is only consistent with what he is. The uncomfortable part of the chapter is that Jacob had been playing the same game.
The bargain-making Jacob meets the bargain-making Laban, and you can see both straining every nerve to outwit each other. Nor can we wonder at Laban, for he had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth. He had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of the Lord, promising him all the land of Canaan and countless descendants. No wonder, then, that he should show a grasping, grovelling spirit. He had no other resource.
after_note_ignore: n/a It is useless to expect from worldly men anything but a worldly spirit, and worldly principles and ways... But Jacob had seen and heard all of this at Bethel. To find him struggling with a man of the world, and trying by such means to pile up property, is especially humbling.
- Claim. Laban meets Jacob's charges with a boast, not a defence: daughters, children, flocks, everything in view is his.
- Contradiction. Each item had already left his hands: he sold the daughters, the children belonged to Jacob, and the flocks paid Jacob's wages.
- Cause. God is absent from the sentence, and so is affection for the very people he names.
- Collapse. The boast ends in a question he cannot answer; the grasping man loses what he clutches.
- Caution. Twenty years of seeing God bless his house left Laban unchanged — and Jacob, who had seen far more, was playing the same game.
And now, come, let us make a covenant, I and thou; and let it be a witness between me and thee.
Laban has chased Jacob for seven days and searched his tents for his missing household gods. He found nothing. Now he asks for a covenant — a binding agreement, with something set up as a witness to it. Why would two relatives need that?
Laban's speech before this verse still claims everything in sight as his own. But his words had lost their force, and one writer traces the shift directly to that weakness:
Verses 43 and 44 would indicate that Laban himself was conscious that this was the case, and so, while asserting his fatherly rights, he adopted a different tone altogether, and suggested that a covenant should be agreed and established between them. This was accordingly done.
The proposal ends the quarrel, but it does not heal it. Another commentator reads the very need for such a document as an indictment of both households:
Laban had calmed down enough that, instead of carrying on the argument, he suggested that he and Jacob make a covenant between them (v. 44). It is sad to think he found this necessary between relatives. It is again a legal arrangement rather than a relationship of trust shaped by grace, which is what every family relationship should be. What we see here is still confidence in the flesh, rather than the faith that trusts in the living God.
Laban's request is strange coming from the stronger party. He had pursued Jacob with a small army and now begs terms from him. The reason lies in Laban himself:
To the eye of faith it is a sad sight. Laban is paid back, and Jacob and his household are rescued by God's overruling hand and goodness. Yet inside the chosen family the wife has stolen idol images, and her husband knows nothing of it. Laban, far from crushing Jacob, begs him for a covenant. Because he did not fear God, he had no confidence in his own closest relative.
The distrust ran both ways. One writer puts Laban's request into plain words:
He is really telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way also. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban. So this pillar is the milestone in Jacob's life that declares how untrustworthy the flesh is. Very often it takes two people to expose it to each other!
Laban sets every term. Jacob accepts them, and then does more than agree:
But he tries to put a good face on the matter, and asks for a covenant between himself and Jacob. Jacob leaves all the terms to Laban, with his miserable thoughts and fears, but he carries the covenant out in full earnest, and with it the name that stood. He not only swore by the Fear of Isaac; he also offered peace offerings, and they ate bread together.
The witness Laban asks for turns out to be a heap of stones and a pillar, set as a boundary marker:
Then Laban speaks of the heap and the pillar as a dividing point between him and Jacob. It witnessed their agreement that neither would pass that point to harm the other (v. 52). The whole covenant may seem needless to us. Neither of them was likely to cross that line for any reason: they would be happier living far apart from each other.
The covenant is not only signed; it is sealed with an animal offered to God and a meal eaten over the stones. One writer notices who performs the sacrifice, and what that says about Jacob:
There is something great in this. It tells us that Jacob knew his place and dignity under God. Laban had every claim that nature or the flesh or family ties could give, but Jacob acts despite them. Laban was the older man; he was the master and the father-in-law. Still, Jacob takes the place of the "better," and offers the sacrifice.
The same writer finds in that pattern a picture of something far larger than a family truce:
Such a scene, in mystery, exhibits our blessing. For we enjoy a covenant of peace, secured by a sacrifice, and witnessed by a feast.
One writer sums up the parting, and finds a pattern in it:
But Jacob's prosperity turns Laban against him, just as spiritual growth separates a person from the world… Laban follows Jacob; God appears for Jacob and shields him; and Jacob at last departs in peace, with a covenant between him and Laban, at Galeed, the "heap of witness."
- Subdued — Laban stops arguing and asks for terms. The covenant is the move of a man with nothing left to claim.
- Suspicion — Laban did not fear God, so he could not trust even his closest relative.
- Stones — the heap of stones stands as a witness to broken trust. It marks how untrustworthy the flesh proved on both sides.
- Sacrifice — Jacob leaves every term to Laban. Then he offers the sacrifice and shares the meal, taking the higher place though he held the lower rank.
- Separation — a covenant of peace, secured by a sacrifice and witnessed by a feast. Jacob parts in peace from the world he served.
And Jacob took a stone, and set it up [for] a pillar.
Genesis 31 ends with two relatives who no longer trust each other, trying to make an agreement that will hold. Jacob's answer is a stone — and the question is what a stone can guarantee between men like these.
The Hebrew word behind "pillar" is plain and physical. It names an object put upright and left standing.
matstsebah, from 'to set, put, place'; and so anything that is set up. It is used for the stone that Jacob had for a pillow, which he set up, and on which he poured oil and made his vow. Also for the heap of stones he raised when Laban and he parted.
This is not Jacob's first stone. Commentators trace several through his life, and read this one against the pillar he set up at Bethel.
Jacob sets up his second pillar. His first was in Genesis 28:18, where he made his fleshly vow, therefore the pillar of confidence in the flesh. This time his pillar is a memorial to broken confidence between relatives. It stands in contrast to the first pillar, because it tells us that the flesh has proved it cannot be trusted.
Laban is the one who dictates the terms, and the words he chooses give away what he thinks of his son-in-law.
It is Laban who pronounces the terms of their covenant, saying that the heap was a witness to it. He introduces the Lord's name here, expecting Him to watch between himself and Jacob when they are absent from one another. He is really telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way also. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban.
Commentators differ on what the pillar marks — some read it as a monument to failed trust, others as a witness to God's rescue and a boundary line. One detail stands out either way: unlike the stone at Bethel, this one stays dry.
He set up pillars several times in his life — it seems to have been a favourite practice with him. He set one up by Galeed, east of the Jordan, to stand as a witness that God had stepped in on his behalf. Together with the heap that he and his relatives raised, it marked the boundary that neither he nor Laban was to cross to harm the other. He set up another on Rachel's grave, on the way to Ephrath, a lasting memorial marking the spot where he laid the body of his beloved. But neither at Galeed nor at Rachel's grave did he pour out a drink-offering. Neither the time nor the places were right for such an expressive action, and no doubt he understood that.
Jacob does more than set up a stone. He offers the sacrifice — and he is not the elder of the two men.
This has great character in it. It tells us that Jacob knew his place and dignity under God. Laban had every claim that nature or the flesh or family could give, but Jacob acts despite them. Laban was the elder; he was the master and the father-in-law. But Jacob still takes the place of the "better," and offers the sacrifice. He acts in the same spirit of faith as Abraham when he made a covenant with the king of Gerar (Gen. 21), or Jethro at Horeb, among the Israel of God and in the presence of Aaron (Ex. 18).
Commentators see that covenant, sacrifice and feast as a picture of something far larger.
Such a scene, in mystery, shows our blessing. For we enjoy a covenant of peace, secured by a sacrifice, and witnessed by a feast.
The stone marks a border neither man may cross. Some writers see in that parting a pattern of how blessing itself creates distance.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that it is the power of God to which he owes the increase. God has looked on his affliction and his toil, and ordained him a recompense. But his prosperity turns Laban against him, as spiritual increase separates from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan. Laban cannot get on with him any more, and yet Jacob's leaving makes him openly hostile — just as the world feels the sting of separation, though there can be no more fellowship.
- Set up. The word for pillar means nothing more than something set upright — a stone left standing to witness what happened.
- Broken. Jacob's first pillar at Bethel marked confidence in the flesh. This second one records that two relatives cannot trust each other.
- Watched. Laban brings God's name in because he cannot trust Jacob out of his sight — and Jacob had just as little reason to trust him.
- Dry. Jacob pours no oil and no drink-offering on this stone. A stone can witness a boundary without being a place of worship.
- Offered. Jacob, the younger and the servant, is the one who brings the sacrifice — a covenant of peace secured by sacrifice and witnessed by a feast.
And Jacob said to his brethren, Gather stones. And they took stones, and made a heap, and ate there upon the heap.
Genesis 31 ends with Jacob parting from his father-in-law Laban, and the pile of stones in this verse is the monument they leave behind. It looks like a peace treaty, but commentators read it as something sadder: two relatives who cannot trust each other.
Jacob had set up a stone once before, in Genesis 28:18, when he made his vow. This second heap marks a very different moment.
Jacob sets up his second pillar. His first was in Genesis 28:18, where he made his fleshly vow. That first pillar was a pillar of confidence in the flesh. This time his pillar is a memorial to broken confidence between relatives. It stands in contrast to the first pillar, because it tells us that the flesh has proved it cannot be trusted. A heap of stones underlines this. Both Laban and Jacob call it a "heap of witness" — Laban in the Chaldee language, Jacob in Hebrew. They eat upon the heap, not the most comfortable dining room!
The next verse gives the pile two names. A Bible dictionary explains Laban's name for it, Jegar-sahadutha:
This is the Aramaic name Laban gave to the heap of stones raised as a witness between him and Jacob. Jacob called it GALEED. Both names mean 'cairn of witness.'
A family should not need a legal contract. Laban asked for one anyway.
It is sad to think that he considered this necessary between relatives. It is again a legal arrangement instead of a trusting relationship shaped by grace, as every family relationship should be. There is still evidence here of mere confidence in the flesh, instead of the faith that trusts in the living God.
Laban set all the terms, and Jacob accepted them.
But he tries to put a good face on the matter, and asks for a covenant between himself and Jacob. Jacob leaves all the terms to Laban, and to his wretched thoughts and fears. Yet Jacob solemnly carries the covenant out, and accepts the name that stood. He not only swore by the Fear of Isaac; he also offered peace offerings, and they ate bread together.
Laban pressed for a covenant. Jacob added a sacrifice, and one commentator sees that as the better part of the scene.
While Laban has emphasized the covenant, Jacob offered a sacrifice, which was far better. Then he invited the whole company to eat a meal with him. At least the sacrifice was a reminder that God had rights far more important than those of either Jacob or Laban. Eating together eased the tension between them, so that they could part on fairly friendly terms.
Another writer links the offering and the meal. At Mount Gilead they made a covenant, "offering sacrifice, and then eating together as upon the sacrifice" (J. G. Bellett).
Behind the ceremony stand twenty-one hard years of service to Laban. One writer reads them as discipline.
You get Mizpah, or Jegar-sahadutha, or Galeed, and much instruction in it all, for the Lord takes care of the believer. But where the believer walks in this low, fleshly way, God chastens him through and through. Twenty-one years a slave — he cheats, and is cheated. He believed, and came to be believed, but his means were of the flesh. It was discipline in every possible way, because he walked after the flesh.
The heap also marks the point where Jacob's break with Laban becomes final and peaceful.
But Jacob's prosperity turns Laban against him, just as spiritual growth separates a believer from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan. Laban can no longer get on with him, yet Jacob's leaving turns him into an open enemy — just as the world feels the sting of separation, though there can be no more fellowship. Laban follows Jacob. God appears for Jacob and shields him. Jacob departs at last in peace, with a covenant between him and Laban, at Galeed, the "heap of witness."
The stones also guard him while they stand: "A 'heap of witness' separates him from every evil that may come. Until that heap of witness is removed, and the pillar is taken out of the way, the world will not seek to harm the chosen of God" (The Bible Treasury).
- Witness raised. Jacob named the heap Galeed; Laban named it Jegar-sahadutha. Both names mean "cairn of witness."
- Witness to what. Not to friendship, but to broken confidence between relatives. The pillar proves the flesh cannot be trusted.
- Witness instead of trust. Laban wanted a legal deal where grace should have ruled a family. That is confidence in the flesh, not faith in the living God.
- Witness softened by sacrifice. Jacob's offering put God's rights above the rights of both men. The meal by the heap let them part on friendly terms.
- Witness as a boundary. The heap fixes the line of separation. Behind it lie twenty-one years in which God chastened a schemer through and through, and still kept him.
And Laban called it Jegar-sahadutha, and Jacob called it Galeed.
Jacob leaves Laban, and Laban chases after him. The two men part at a heap of stones, and each names that heap in his own language. The two names mean the same thing, so why did the moment need a monument at all?
The heap gets a double title because two languages meet at it. Laban's word is Aramaic, and one reference work explains it simply:
This is the Aramaic name Laban gave to the heap of stones set up as a witness between him and Jacob. Jacob called it GALEED. Both names mean the same thing: a heap of witness.
Nothing changes in translation. Each man says the same thing over the same stones.
Laban's word is the first Aramaic in the Bible. One reference work sets out where that language belonged:
Aramaic is the language of Aram. It takes in both Chaldean and the language of Syria. Its true home was Mesopotamia, Babylonia and Syria. The first time we meet it in Scripture is Genesis 31:47. There Laban called the heap of witness 'Jegar-sahadutha,' which is Chaldean, while Jacob gave it a Hebrew name, 'Galeed.'
The two names also point back to Abraham. One writer notes that Abraham's family took up the language of the land they had moved to:
Hebrew was the language of Palestine. The names of places and people there, from before Israel owned the land, show this. Hebrew was the language Abraham and his descendants took as their own. The difference between Jacob's language and that of Laban the Mesopotamian shows it plainly (Gen. 31:47).
The heap says something about the two men. One commentator sets it beside an earlier pillar Jacob had put up:
Jacob sets up his second pillar. His first was in Genesis 28:18, where he made his vow in the strength of the flesh. That was a pillar of confidence in the flesh. This pillar is the opposite. It is a memorial of broken trust between relatives, and it tells us that the flesh has proved it cannot be trusted. A heap of stones makes the point stronger. Both Laban and Jacob call it a "heap of witness" — Laban in the Chaldean language, Jacob in Hebrew (v. 47).
Laban is the one who asks for the covenant. One writer finds the reason in Laban's own heart:
Laban, instead of crushing Jacob, begs him for a covenant. Laban did not fear God, so he had no confidence even in his own closest relative. But how much Jacob had to learn, as he weighed his old self-seeking and scheming before Jehovah!
The heap is also a boundary. The two men separate there. One writer takes that parting as a picture of what spiritual growth does to a person's ties with the world:
But Jacob's prosperity turns Laban against him, just as spiritual growth separates a person from the world. Then comes God's call to return to Canaan. Laban can no longer get along with Jacob, and Jacob's leaving makes him openly hostile — just as the world feels the sting of separation, though there can be no more fellowship. Laban follows Jacob. God appears for Jacob and shields him. In the end Jacob leaves in peace, with a covenant between him and Laban at Galeed, the "heap of witness."
A pile of stones does one thing no spoken promise can do: it stays. The name itself says why:
A heap of witness exists for one purpose: to make forgetting impossible.
Commentators differ on how much to draw from the scene. Some stay with the language and the history. Others read the heap as a picture of separation from the world. All agree on the plain sense of the two names.
- Witness. Jegar-sahadutha and Galeed are one phrase in two languages: a heap of witness between Jacob and Laban.
- Witness in two tongues. Laban speaks Aramaic, Jacob Hebrew. This is the first Aramaic in the Bible. It shows that Abraham's line had taken up a different language from their relatives in Mesopotamia.
- Witness because trust died. Jacob's first pillar marked a vow. This one marks broken trust between relatives, and proves the flesh cannot be trusted.
- Witness because Laban feared no God. Laban asks for the covenant. A man who does not fear God cannot trust even his own family.
- Witness that outlasts memory. A heap of witness exists to make forgetting impossible. There Jacob leaves in peace, separated from the world he had prospered in.
And Laban said, This heap is a witness between me and thee this day. Therefore was the name of it called Galeed,
Years of scheming between Jacob and Laban end not with an embrace but with a pile of stones. So what was that heap a witness to — a friendship, an agreement, or something less flattering to both men?
Each man named the heap in his own language.
Aramaic name given by Laban to the heap of stones raised as a witness between him and Jacob, which Jacob called GALEED, both meaning "cairn of witness."
Why raise stones at all? One writer links a later place-name in the region to this heap.
Gesenius gives Gilead as meaning "hard, rocky." But there seems reason to connect it instead with Jacob's Galeed (Gen. 31:47), "a heap of witness." That would put it in striking contrast with Manasseh, the name linked with it, which means "forgetting." A heap of witness exists for the very purpose of making forgetfulness impossible.
This is not the first stone Jacob set up. The earlier one came with a vow of his own; this one records something different.
Jacob sets up his second pillar. His first was in Genesis 28:18, where he made his fleshly vow, and so it was the pillar of confidence in the flesh. This time his pillar is a memorial to broken confidence between relatives. It stands in contrast to the first pillar, for it tells us that the flesh has proved it cannot be trusted. A heap of stones underlines this. Both Laban and Jacob called it a "heap of witness" — Laban in Aramaic, Jacob in Hebrew (v. 47). They eat upon the heap — not the most comfortable dining room!
The words in this verse come from Laban, not Jacob. The same writer listens to Laban's tone.
It is Laban who pronounces the terms of their covenant, saying that the heap was a witness to it. He brings in the Lord's name here. He expects Him to watch between himself and Jacob while they are apart (v. 49). He is really telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way also. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban. So this pillar is the milestone in Jacob's life that clearly proclaims the untrustworthiness of the flesh. Very often it takes two parties to expose it to one another!
Why did relatives need a treaty at all? One writer traces it back to what Laban lacked.
It is a sorry sight to the eye of faith: retribution for Laban, rescue for Jacob and his house through God's overruling hand and goodness. Yet inside the chosen family the wife had stolen idolatrous images, and her husband knew nothing of it. Laban did not crush him; instead Laban begged him for a covenant. For, as he did not fear God, he had no confidence in his own nearest relative. But what had Jacob still to learn, as he weighed his old self-seeking and scheming before Jehovah?
Jacob set up pillars more than once. What did the one at Galeed do?
He set up pillars several times in his life — it seems to have been a favourite practice with him. He erected one by Galeed, east of Jordan, to stand as a witness of God's intervention on his behalf. Along with the heap raised by him and his brothers, it marked the boundary which neither he nor Laban was to cross to injure the other (Gen. 31:24-25, 52).
- Witness named. Each man named the heap in his own language — Laban in Aramaic, Jacob calling it Galeed — and both names mean a cairn of witness.
- Witness remembers. A heap of witness exists to make forgetting impossible. It stands where memory would fail.
- Witness accuses. Jacob's first pillar marked confidence in the flesh. This second one marks trust between relatives that had collapsed.
- Witness demanded. A man who did not fear God could not trust even his closest relative, so he asked for terms instead.
- Witness guards. The stones recalled God's stepping in for Jacob. They also fixed the line neither man was to cross to harm the other.
-- and Mizpah; for he said, Let Jehovah watch between me and thee, when we shall be hidden one from another
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
if thou shouldest afflict my daughters, or if thou shouldest take wives besides my daughters, -- no man is with us; see, God is witness between me and thee!
Jacob and Laban part with a treaty, not with trust. Laban's last demand is about his daughters: how will Jacob treat them when no one is there to see? Commentators find two things here. One is a bond so weak it needs stones and oaths to hold it. The other is a marriage watched by God Himself.
Laban dictates the terms, and the reason he reaches for God's name is not reverence but suspicion.
It is Laban who states the terms of their covenant, saying that the heap was a witness to it. He brings in the Lord's name here. He expects Him to watch between himself and Jacob while they are apart (v.49). In effect he is telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way too. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban. So this pillar is the milestone in Jacob's life that shows how untrustworthy the flesh is. Very often it takes two parties to expose it to one another!
Agreements between people followed a set pattern back then. The stones and the shared meal were part of it.
A covenant is an agreement between one man and another, or between nation and nation. Both sides weigh the terms and agree to them. Then an oath or some token seals it in front of witnesses… In the covenant Jacob made with Laban, they gathered a heap of stones to be a witness between them, and "they ate there by the heap." Gen. 31:46… Even today, if a stranger in the East can get the head of a tribe to eat with him, he knows he is safe. People count that meal as a covenant.
Laban names two dangers: harm to Leah and Rachel, and rival wives. Nothing in Jacob's record pointed that way.
We may wonder if Laban suspected that Jacob would take revenge on him by mistreating Leah and Rachel (v. 50). There is no sign that Jacob had ever done this… Laban was even afraid that Jacob might take other wives besides Leah and Rachel. After all, he himself had started the whole business of Jacob having two wives. What right did he have to complain if Jacob took another? But his fears were groundless. Jacob never did show any inclination to have another wife, or more.
The man who calls God as witness had shown little thought of Him. Jacob let him set every clause.
What could Laban reply but that all were his — wives, children, flock? God was in none of his thoughts, any more than love for his daughters, or their children, or his son-in-law. But he tries to put a good face on the matter, and asks for a covenant between himself and Jacob. Jacob leaves all the terms to Laban, with his wretched thoughts and fears, yet carries it out in full seriousness, along with the name that stood. Not only did he swear by the Fear of Isaac, but he offered peace offerings; and they ate bread together.
The same words — God as witness between a husband and his wife — come back in the book of Malachi. There they become a charge against Israel.
"Because the LORD was witness between you and the wife of your youth, to whom you have been faithless, though she is your companion and your wife by covenant." Both of them stood on the same footing with God.
What Laban demanded by treaty, another writer treats as the ordinary duty of anyone who fears God.
The Lord lays great stress on keeping natural relationships in a godly way. He attaches great importance to it. Wherever people treat these ties lightly, under any pretext, spiritual or otherwise, the door is already open to the worst forms of loose living and corruption… One of the plainest signs of a desire to please the Lord is carrying out our responsibilities at home faithfully and carefully.
The heap does more than record promises; it fixes a line neither man may cross.
Then Laban speaks of the heap and the pillar as a separating point between him and Jacob, a witness of the agreement of each not to pass that point in order to do harm to the other (v.52). The whole covenant might seem rather unnecessary to us, for it is not likely that either of them had any intention of passing that point for any purpose: they would be happier living well apart from each other.
- Distrust — Laban wants the Lord watching because he cannot trust Jacob out of sight. The pillar is a milestone that shows how untrustworthy the flesh is. It took two men to expose it.
- Witness — people sealed a covenant with an oath or a token in front of witnesses. Here the stones and the shared meal are the token, and Laban names God as the witness.
- Suspicion — Laban feared that Jacob would mistreat his daughters or take other wives. Jacob never showed any leaning that way.
- Faithfulness — the same phrase returns in Malachi. The LORD was witness between a man and the wife of his youth. Faithfulness at home is one of the plainest signs that a person wants to please the Lord.
- Unseen — no other person stands by when the two part. So the covenant rests on the God who sees, not on trust between the men.
And Laban said to Jacob, Behold this heap, and behold the pillar which I have set up between me and thee
Laban points to a heap of stones and a standing pillar and calls them a witness between himself and Jacob. Two relatives who cheated each other for years part with a monument instead of trust — and they call God's name over it.
Jacob had set up a stone once before, at the start of his journey. The contrast between the two is the point.
Jacob sets up his second pillar. His first was in chapter 28:18, where he made his fleshly vow — the pillar of confidence in the flesh. This second pillar is a memorial to broken confidence between relatives. It is the opposite of the first, because it tells us the flesh has proved it cannot be trusted. A heap of stones underlines the same thing. Both Laban and Jacob call it a "heap of witness," Laban in Chaldee and Jacob in Hebrew. They eat on the heap — not the most comfortable dining room!
Laban does the talking here, and his terms show what he thinks of Jacob.
Laban is the one who states the terms of their covenant, and he says the heap is a witness to it. He brings in the Lord's name here, expecting Him to watch between himself and Jacob while they are apart. He is really telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way too. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban. So this pillar is the milestone in Jacob's life that announces plainly: the flesh cannot be trusted. Very often it takes two people to expose it to each other!
The stones marked a border, and the two men did not leave their agreement at words.
Again we find Jacob setting up a pillar of witness and also a heap of stones, as was the custom in those early days. Jacob promised to treat Laban's daughters well, and both men agreed not to pass beyond the stones of witness to harm each other. We do not read here of anyone anointing the pillar. We do read that Jacob marked the occasion with an oath and also with a sacrifice. The name of God comes in here, as we see in verse 53, and as the God of Abraham and of Nahor, since Laban as well as Jacob would have honoured both those forefathers.
The man with the power in this scene is the one asking for guarantees.
To the eye of faith it is a sad sight. Laban gets what he deserves, and God's overruling hand and goodness rescue Jacob and his household. Yet inside the chosen family the wife has stolen idol images, and her husband knows nothing of it. And Laban, instead of crushing Jacob, begs him for a covenant. Because Laban did not fear God, he had no confidence even in his own nearest relation. But how much Jacob had to learn, as he weighed his old self-seeking and scheming before the Lord!
Across the whole chapter, the stone border marks more than a family quarrel.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that he owes his increase to the power of God. God has seen his affliction and his toil, and has appointed him a reward. But his prosperity turns Laban against him, just as spiritual growth separates a man from the world. Then comes God's call to return to Canaan. Laban can no longer get along with Jacob, yet Jacob's leaving makes him openly hostile. The world feels the sting of separation in the same way, though there can be no more fellowship. Laban follows Jacob; God appears for Jacob and shields him; and in the end Jacob leaves in peace, with a covenant between him and Laban at Galeed, the "heap of witness."
The names left at this spot carry instruction, not just geography.
You get Mizpah, or Jegar-sahadutha, or Galeed, and there is much instruction in it all. The Lord takes care of the believer. But where the believer walks in this low, fleshly way, the Lord disciplines him through and through. Twenty-one years a slave — he cheats, and is cheated. He believed, and came to be believed, but his means were fleshly. It was discipline in every possible way, because he walked after the flesh.
- Witness. Laban and Jacob both call the heap and pillar a "heap of witness" — one name in two languages, from two men who agreed on nothing else.
- Distrust. Laban sets the terms and calls God in to watch. He is saying he cannot trust Jacob out of his sight — and Jacob had learned the same about him.
- Boundary. Both men swear not to cross the stones to harm the other, and they seal the oath with a sacrifice and the name of God.
- Exposure. A man who does not fear God trusts no one, not even his closest relation. The treaty exposes Laban, and Jacob must weigh his own scheming.
- Grace. The flesh fails on both sides, yet the Lord shields and keeps the believer — and disciplines him thoroughly along the way.
[let] this heap be witness, and the pillar a witness, that neither I pass this heap [to go] to thee, nor thou pass this heap and this pillar [to come] to me, for harm.
Genesis 31 ends with Jacob and Laban piling up stones and agreeing to stay on their own side of them. Laban calls both stones a witness — but a witness to what, and why did two relatives need one?
The stones mark a line on the ground. Each man promises not to cross it to harm the other. One writer notes how little that promise cost them.
Then Laban speaks of the heap and the pillar as a separating point between him and Jacob. They are a witness of the agreement of each not to pass that point to harm the other (v. 52). The whole covenant might seem unnecessary to us. Neither of them was likely to have any intention of passing that point for any purpose. They would be happier living far apart from each other.
One writer sums up what such a pillar meant, and points to this verse for proof.
The pillar, as we know from the story of Jacob's parting with Laban, carries with it the thought of witness (Gen. 31:52).
Stones alone did not hold the agreement. Jacob added an oath and a sacrifice — and one writer sees a danger in the name Jacob swore by.
Again we find Jacob raising up a pillar of witness and also a heap of stones, according to the custom of those early days. Both agreed not to pass beyond the stones of witness to harm each other. We do not read on this occasion of the anointing of the pillar. But we do find that Jacob marked the occasion not only by an oath but also by sacrifice... He also swore by the fear of Isaac his father... But there was the danger of the fear of Isaac, whom he could see, replacing the fear of the God, whom he could not see.
Laban sets the terms, and he wants the Lord to watch. One writer hears what that request admits about both men.
He is really telling Jacob, "I cannot trust you out of my sight, so I want the Lord to watch." Of course it was true the other way also. Jacob had learned not to trust Laban. So that this pillar is the milestone in Jacob's life that proclaims clearly the untrustworthiness of the flesh. Very often it takes two parties to expose it to one another!
The same writer notes what such an agreement replaces:
It is sad to think that he considered this necessary between relatives, for it is again a legal arrangement rather than a trusting relationship marked by grace, as every family relationship should be.
It was Laban who wanted this covenant. One writer weighs what that request shows about him, and what Jacob still had to learn.
It is a sorry sight to the eye of faith: retribution for Laban, rescue for Jacob and his house through God's overruling hand and goodness... For, since he did not fear God, he had no confidence in his own nearest relation. But what had Jacob still to learn, as he weighed his old self-seeking and scheming before the Lord?
One writer reads the whole parting as a pattern. Jacob's prosperity made staying impossible.
After all his planning, Jacob has to learn that it is the power of God to which he owes the increase... But his prosperity turns Laban against him, as spiritual increase separates from the world. Then comes the call of God to return to Canaan. Laban cannot get on with him any more, yet Jacob's withdrawal makes him openly hostile — just as the world feels the sting of separation, though there can be no more fellowship... and Jacob finally departs in peace with a covenant between him and Laban, at Galeed, the "heap of witness."
Commentators differ on how far to press the picture. One reading gives the heap and the pillar separate meanings, and notes that the two halves of the promise are not the same:
Those of the world who claim relationship with the saints of God set up the "heap of witness." For them it is a sign that so long as the witness remains — religious profession — no harm can come to them. Notice that Laban covenants not to pass the heap to harm Jacob, whereas in Jacob's case both heap and pillar must be passed over before the day of reconciliation ends. God, as it were, is set between as judge.
- Witness. The pillar carries one meaning through Jacob's story, and this verse states it: it stands there to testify.
- Distrust. What it testifies to is failure. The heap exists because neither man could trust the other. It is where Jacob learns that the flesh — human nature on its own — is unreliable, in himself as well as in Laban.
- Law. Grace should have held a family together. Instead these two drew up terms and a boundary line, which is what people need when trust is gone.
- Fear. Laban asks for the covenant because he does not fear God. A man who does not fear God cannot trust even his own family.
- Separation. God's blessing on Jacob made the old partnership unworkable. The parting stones mark the break — a picture of how spiritual increase separates a believer from the world.
The God of Abraham, and the God of Nahor, the God of their father, judge between us! And Jacob swore by the fear of his father Isaac.
Twenty years of tension between Jacob and his father-in-law end here, at a heap of stones, with an oath sworn over it. Laban calls on the God of Abraham and the God of Nahor together. Jacob binds himself by another name: the Fear of his father Isaac.
Both men could honour the ancestors named in this oath. Jacob then adds one more name.
The name of God was invoked, as we see in verse 53. He was called on as the God of Abraham and of Nahor, since Laban as well as Jacob would have honoured both of those forefathers. In addition Jacob swore by the fear of Isaac his father. Such was the esteem given to parents and ancestors in those far-off days — very good in many ways. But there was the danger that the fear of Isaac, whom he could see, would take the place of the fear of God, whom he could not see. So he received a reminder of the unseen world, as the opening verse of Genesis 32 shows.
Laban can speak God's name and still keep household images.
Clearly Laban and his family were idolaters. But it also appears they had some superstitious knowledge of God — no doubt handed down by tradition. They mixed what they had received from earlier times with the image-worship growing up around them. In such a case, even to honour the true God is only superstition… One feature of ancient idolatry was not the denial of the name of God. It was joining that name with idols.
The phrase points back to Isaac's own reverence. One writer traces it to Isaac's own lie about his wife, and to what that failure worked in his conscience.
Isaac was a gracious and prayerful person, who knew what it is to meditate in the fields at evening. Is it conceivable that a man of such habits would fail to judge his own deliberate lie? It made the world stumble. It dishonoured his Almighty Protector, his beloved wife, and himself as a saint. … Can anyone doubt, then, that the fear of Isaac (Gen. 31:42) worked in his conscience to humble him and to clear his spirit from deceit.
Commentators differ here. One sees a man who still would not call God his own.
God stepped in to protect him and keep him safe from every enemy. Yet in his heart Jacob claims all the credit, for "he swore by the fear of his father Isaac." Was this what he had agreed to do? By his own confession God had been with him. Had he not had bread and clothing these twenty years? Now surely was the time to own Jehovah as his God. But no, that needed faith… He certainly knew Jehovah would not own his ways; so he swears by the fear of his father Isaac.
Another finds real gain here. Jacob's sense of God had deepened over those years.
It was something to hear Jacob confessing the name of the God of Abraham and the fear of Isaac (chap. 31:42), and then again at the end of the chapter "the fear of his father Isaac" seems to have been uppermost in his mind. The sense of God's faithfulness and of His holy majesty had deepened in Jacob up to this point.
Laban asks for the covenant and wants God as judge between them. His reasons were not godly ones.
God was in none of his thoughts, and neither was love for his daughters, or their children, or his son-in-law. But he tries to put a good face on the matter, and asks for a covenant between himself and Jacob. Jacob leaves all the terms to Laban and his wretched thoughts and fears, but solemnly carries it out, along with the name that stood. He not only swore by the Fear of Isaac; he also offered peace-offerings, and they ate bread together.
- Fear named. Jacob swears by "the Fear of Isaac." The name points to a father whose own failure had humbled him and cleared his spirit of deceit.
- Fear mixed. Laban pairs God's name with Nahor's and still keeps idols. Ancient idolatry did not deny God's name. It joined that name to images.
- Fear borrowed. Jacob leans on his father's God instead of calling Him his own. Writers differ: some see faith still lacking, others see reverence growing.
- Fear absent. Laban wants God set between them as judge, yet God has no place in his thoughts, and neither does love for his own children.
- Fear sealed. The oath is not left as words: Jacob adds sacrifice and a shared meal, and the two part.
And Jacob offered a sacrifice upon the mountain, and invited his brethren to eat bread and they ate bread, and lodged on the mountain.
Jacob and Laban part after twenty hard years together: wages changed again and again, a secret escape, a hunt for stolen household gods, and a chase that ends on a mountain in Gilead. Their deal runs on distrust, yet the chapter closes not with the stone heap but with a sacrifice and a shared meal.
The offering named here is older than the law of Moses. The worshippers ate part of what was given.
We have learned about the burnt offering. Now we must look at the offering that, until the days of Moses, was called simply a sacrifice. It is mentioned in Exodus 10:25, Exodus 18:12 and Exodus 24:5, and it was festive in character. In Exodus 24:5 it is called by the term translated peace offering. Very likely at Galeed (Gen. 31:54), where Jacob and Laban feasted together, sacrifices of this kind were offered, and the two men and their companies shared in them. This solemnly confirmed the covenant made between the father-in-law and the son-in-law... In the burnt offering everything went up to God. In the sacrifice, as this other offering was first called, the one who brought it and those with him feasted together, God, it is likely, having His part, and they theirs.
Laban had pressed for the covenant. Jacob's answer moves the attention off both men.
While Laban has emphasized the covenant, Jacob offered a sacrifice (v. 54), which was far better. Then he invited the whole company to eat a meal with him. At least the sacrifice was a reminder that God had rights far more important than those of either Jacob or Laban. Eating together eased the tension between them, so they could part on reasonably friendly terms.
Every natural advantage here belonged to Laban. Yet the man who offers the sacrifice is the younger one, the one who had served him.
There is something great in this. It tells us that Jacob knew his place and dignity under God. Laban had every claim that nature, the flesh or family ties could give, but Jacob acts despite them. Laban was the older man; he was the master and the father-in-law. Yet Jacob still takes the place of the "better," and offers the sacrifice. He does it in the same spirit of faith as Abraham when he made a covenant with the king of Gerar (Gen. 21).
He had done nothing like this in all his years in Laban's country.
Jacob was under discipline in Padan-aram. He had no altar there. Before God he was a penitent rather than a worshipper. But in front of Laban he knows himself as a saint. Here, at Mount Gilead, he has his pillar, his sacrifice and his feast. He acts in the faith that gives him courage to live up to his dignity as a saint and priest of God, in the face of every claim of flesh and blood.
The order matters. First the sacrifice, then the meal — and that same order appears again later in Scripture.
Such a scene, as a picture, shows our own blessing. For we enjoy a covenant of peace, secured by a sacrifice and witnessed by a feast. So, on the night of redemption from Egypt, the altar and the table — that is, the sacrifice and the feast — are there again. The blood is on the doorpost. The household, ransomed and sheltered by it, are inside, feeding on the lamb whose blood was protecting and delivering them.
Jacob left the wording to Laban. He swore by the God his father Isaac worshipped, and then added an offering of his own.
He tries to put a good face on the matter, and asks for a covenant between himself and Jacob. Jacob leaves all the terms to Laban, with his miserable thoughts and fears, but he solemnly carries it out, and the name that was given stood too. He not only swore by the Fear of Isaac; he also offered peace offerings, and they ate bread together.
- Distrust starts the scene: the heap of stones stands there because two relatives did not trust each other out of sight.
- Sacrifice answers distrust: Jacob's offering is far better than the covenant. It puts God's rights above the claims of either man.
- Feast follows sacrifice: worshippers ate part of this offering, so a shared meal sealed the agreement and eased the tension.
- Dignity shows in who offers: Laban was the elder, the master and the father-in-law, yet Jacob takes the higher place and acts as a priest of God.
- Pattern points forward: a covenant of peace, secured by a sacrifice and witnessed by a feast. The same order appears the night Israel left Egypt — blood outside, the lamb eaten inside.
And Laban rose early in the morning, and kissed his sons and his daughters, and blessed them; and Laban went and returned to his place.
Genesis 31 ends at dawn, with a goodbye after twenty years of life together. The farewell looks warm, yet commentators notice both what Laban did and what he left out.
One writer notices a name missing from the list of those Laban kissed.
While Laban has emphasized the covenant, Jacob offered a sacrifice (v. 54), which was far better. Then he invited the whole company to eat a meal with him. At least the sacrifice was a reminder that God had rights far more important than those of either Jacob or Laban. Eating together eased the tension between them, so that they could part on fairly friendly terms. The next morning, before they parted, Laban kissed his daughters and their children. But there is no mention of his kissing Jacob, as he had done when they first met (Genesis 29:13).
Laban walks off the page exactly as he walked onto it — and one writer sees Jacob's leaving as an escape.
As to Laban, he was a thorough man of the world when Jacob entered his house, and so he was when Jacob left it. In all his dealings, from first to last, he looks to his own advantage. He has to admit that the hand of God was with Jacob. But he wanted that hand, working through Jacob, to serve himself, and to turn Jacob's interest in God to his own profit. For twenty years he had the witness of the Lord's hand, and of the working of His grace and power. It was before his eyes and in his house, and that daily. But he stayed a man of the world still... And Jacob's departure from his house at the end was like an escape out of the enemy's hand. It was a kind of exodus... Laban was his Pharaoh, and Laban's country his Egypt.
Another writer is not surprised by Laban at all, and turns the shame back on Jacob instead.
We cannot wonder at Laban, for he had never been at Bethel. He had seen no open heaven, with a ladder reaching from there to earth. He had heard no magnificent promises from the lips of the Lord, securing to him all the land of Canaan, with countless descendants. No wonder, then, that he showed a grasping, low-minded spirit; he had no other resource. It is useless to expect anything from worldly men but a worldly spirit, and worldly principles and ways; they have nothing better... But Jacob had seen and heard all this at Bethel. To find him struggling with a man of the world, and trying by such means to pile up property, is especially humbling.
Laban blesses his family and goes home. One writer reads the whole farewell as an act.
He pretends that Jacob left him only because he missed home. His conscience must have told him many a very different reason. He puts on grief and anger at not having a chance to kiss his daughters and grandchildren, and to send them away with honour. Yet his conscience must have reminded him how he had sold them again and again... And he gives a solemn air to the last bargain between him and Jacob, bringing in the name of the God of Abraham. Yet he had just been searching for his idols. He was getting ready to go back to the land God had called Abraham out of, and to stay there a thorough, heartless man of the world still, a worshipper of his own god.
With Laban gone, the last tie is cut. One writer also notes who had been caring for Jacob up to this point.
This was, after all, a formal separation of Jacob from the world. God had taken care of him up to now, as He always does of Israel, but through angels. He Himself only meets him after this. He told him to leave, that was all.
One writer notes where Laban's story stops.
Laban went and returned to his place, as we have seen. Of him we hear no more.
Laban went back. Jacob went on, and met a welcome he had not arranged for himself.
After Laban left, "Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him." Jacob recognised them. He had seen them before in his dream, and he said, "This is God's camp!" Their appearing was God reminding him of His promise, "I will never leave you." It was to assure him of God's protection in the dreaded meeting with Esau. But his response to this grace is very feeble.
- Parting. Laban kisses his daughters and grandchildren, but not Jacob — the kiss he gave him when they first met is missing.
- Unchanged. Twenty years of watching God bless Jacob under his own roof left Laban exactly the man he had always been.
- Excused. Laban had never been to Bethel, so his grasping spirit is no surprise. The humbling part is Jacob, who had been there, fighting him on his own terms.
- Finished. Laban's journey home cuts the tie for good, and Scripture never mentions him again.
- Escorted. With the old link gone, Jacob goes on his way and the angels of God meet him — though his answer to that grace is weak.
And Jacob went on his way; and the angels of God met him.
Jacob has left Laban and is heading back to the land God promised him. Ahead of him waits Esau, the brother he ran from; but first, on the road, God's angels meet him.
Jacob's record up to this point is not impressive. The angels meet him anyway.
"Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him." God's grace still follows him, despite everything. "Nothing changes God's affection." Whom He loves, and as He loves, He loves to the end. His love is like Himself, "the same yesterday, today and forever."
Just before this, Jacob had sworn an oath by "the Fear of his father Isaac."
Such was the respect given to parents and ancestors in those far-off days — very good in many ways. But there was the danger that the fear of Isaac, whom he could see, would crowd out the fear of God, whom he could not see. So he received the reminder of the unseen world that we find in the opening verse of Genesis 32.
At Bethel, on the way out, God Himself had spoken to Jacob. On the way back, only His servants appear, and one writer sees a reason for the difference.
Jacob now goes on his way, and angels of God meet him. How ready He is to assure us of His power! He waits only for the right moment to use it on our behalf. It must have reminded him of Bethel, and of the promise there — but there the LORD had appeared to him, even if only in a dream. Here He does not appear. Jacob the outcast and wanderer could have what Jacob returning in wealth and with a crowd could no longer receive. Then it was grace; now it would be fellowship, and for fellowship he was not yet ready.
The name Jacob gives the place means "two camps." How Jacob counted those camps shaped what he did next.
It was not God Himself who met him yet, but His angels. They were surely meant to encourage Jacob to keep going all the way back to the place the Lord had for him. Jacob recognized them as "God's host," and named the place "Mahanaim," meaning "two camps." Jacob had not yet learned that he ought to merge his interests with God's, so he thinks of God's "camp" as separate from his own. This has its unhealthy influence on his actions soon after, when he divided his own company into "two bands" (v. 7). How much better it would have been for him if he had prayed the prayer of the Psalmist, "Unite my heart to fear your name" (Psalm 86:11).
The sight of God's army did not settle Jacob's nerves.
He learns that Esau was coming to meet him with four hundred men, and he is afraid and greatly distressed. Providences and visions do not take away terror, nor give confidence in God.
The cure is not a better sign but a different response to the danger itself.
God, to comfort and strengthen him, sends an army of His angels to meet him. Yet even after this encouragement from God, unbelief renews Jacob's fear when he faces his brother Esau. Deliverance from danger does not destroy unbelief. You do not escape the difficulties on the path of faith by avoiding them. You must overcome them by the power of God. Jacob had brought these difficulties on himself, because he had not trusted God. He forgot the host of God. Esau no longer held any hatred against his brother, yet his army frightened the weak Jacob.
A prophet and his servant once faced the same danger and saw two different things.
The servant saw the Syrians and was dismayed; the prophet saw the heavenly armies and was confident. In the same way, when the angels of God met Jacob, he called the name of the place Mahanaim — "two hosts." Danger may indeed be very near, but God is nearer to us than all our enemies. We may well ask ourselves which host we see today. Is it the crowd of those who hate us? Or the company of "ministering spirits sent out to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation" (Hebrews 1:14)?
- Met. The angels come to a man with a poor record. Grace follows Jacob; it does not reward him.
- Measured. Angels appear, but God Himself does not. At Bethel it was grace; now it would be fellowship, and Jacob is not ready for that.
- Mahanaim. "Two camps" — Jacob counts God's host and his own as separate, and soon splits his own people into two bands out of fear.
- Missed. The sight of the angelic army did not steady him; a vision can impress the eye without producing trust in God.
- Mine. Which host am I looking at — the visible threat, or the ministering spirits sent to serve God's heirs?
And when Jacob saw them he said, This is the camp of God. And he called the name of that place Mahanaim.
Jacob is on the last stretch of his journey home, and Esau is waiting somewhere ahead. Before he meets his brother, an escort he never asked for meets him. What he sees makes him name the ground. The name he chooses tells us as much about Jacob as about the angels.
The name Jacob gave belongs to a real place on the map.
The spot east of the Jordan where Jacob met "the angels of God." He exclaimed "This is God's host," and named the place Mahanaim, "two hosts or camps." Scripture places it on the border of both Gad and Manasseh, which connects it with the brook Jabbok.
Earlier, at Bethel, there was a ladder with angels going up and down it. Here the picture changes.
This was holy ground. God had fulfilled the promises of Genesis 28 and kept the pledges of Bethel. So we have no ladder here. His watchful care through angels had finished its work. He had kept Jacob in the far country and brought him home to his own land. The ladder may therefore come down. Instead of angels going up and down between heaven and Jacob, angels meet him. They stand before him, just to greet him, or to welcome him on his return.
Commentators differ on what the second camp is. Some take it as the sheer size of the angelic company:
Later, the angels of God met Jacob, and he called the name of the place Mahanaim, meaning two hosts or camps. This is interesting. It shows how many angels may take part in one particular work of great size.
Another writer sees God's readiness to help, and a second camp that is Jacob's own:
How ready God is to assure us of His power, waiting only for the right moment to put it forth on our behalf!... Jacob calls the place "Mahanaim" — that is, "two hosts," or "camps." Here he must have counted in his own... How telling that in a little while we find him dividing this host of his into two camps! He says, "If Esau comes to the one camp and attacks it, then the camp that is left will escape." Such is our strength when we build on it, though perhaps we would gladly link God's power with it. In the time of need, our own — what is it? and God's — where shall we find it?
If God's camp and Jacob's camp stay separate in his mind, the split spreads.
Jacob had not yet learned to merge his interests with God's, so he treats God's "camp" as separate from his. This has its unhealthy influence on his actions soon after, when he divided his own company into "two camps" (v. 7). How much better if he had prayed the Psalmist's prayer: "Unite my heart to fear your name" (Psalm 86:11). We only resort to divisions among God's people because our hearts are not wholly devoted to Him.
The angels were a welcome. Jacob's answer was not.
This was music for Jacob, and Jacob should have danced. He should have been in triumph before the battle was even fought... If the hosts of heaven waited on him like this, what had he to fear from the hosts of Esau? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" But it was not so with him. He mourns rather than dances at this music. He trembles, and prays, and calculates.
Another writer records what came next.
Jacob learns that Esau was coming to meet him with four hundred men, and he is afraid and greatly distressed. Providences and visions do not take away terror, nor give confidence in God.
One writer sets Mahanaim beside Dothan, where a servant and a prophet faced the same danger and saw different things.
There were two hosts around Dothan that day. The servant saw the Syrians and lost heart; the prophet saw the heavenly armies and was confident. In the same way, when the angels of God met Jacob, he called the name of the place Mahanaim — "two hosts."... Danger may be very near, but God is nearer to us than all our enemies. We may well ask ourselves: which host do we see today? Is it the crowd of those who hate us, or the company of "ministering spirits sent out to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation" (Hebrews 1:14)?
- Two camps named. Mahanaim means "two hosts." Jacob saw God's camp and named the ground for it, east of the Jordan near the Jabbok.
- Two camps welcomed. No ladder now. The angels stand still and greet him — God's own welcome home from the far country.
- Two camps counted separately. Jacob keeps God's camp beside his own instead of joined to it. Commentators differ: some read the "two" as the size of the angel army, others as God's host plus Jacob's.
- Two camps multiplied. A heart divided from God soon divides everything else: a few verses later Jacob splits his people into two camps, hoping one may escape.
- Two camps still. Mahanaim and Dothan set the same choice before us. Look at the crowd that threatens, or at the ministering spirits sent out to serve the heirs of salvation.
And Jacob sent messengers before his face to Esau his brother, into the land of Seir, the fields of Edom.
Jacob is on his way home, and the one obstacle he cannot avoid is the brother he wronged. God has just met him with a host of angels — and the very next thing Jacob does is send out a delegation of his own.
The word for "messengers" here is the same word used for angels. The context decides which one is meant.
The Hebrew word usually used for angel, and the matching Greek word in the New Testament, simply mean "a messenger." Our word "angel" comes from that Greek word, angelos. Sometimes the word means an ordinary human messenger, as for example when "Jacob sent messengers before him." (Gen. 32:3).
Heaven's messengers had just met him. He answers by sending out his own.
"And Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him." Still God's grace follows him, despite everything. "Nothing changes God's affection." Whom He loves, and as He loves, He loves to the end… But his actions here show how little effect "God's host" had upon Jacob. "And Jacob sent messengers before him to Esau his brother in the land of Seir, the country of Edom." He feels uneasy about Esau, and he has reason to. He had treated him badly, and his conscience was not at ease. But instead of casting himself fully on God, he goes back to his usual planning to head off Esau's anger. He tries to manage Esau, instead of leaning on God.
Watch the timing of this message.
It is remarkable too that it is just when he has met God's messengers that he sends his own to Seir to Esau. But God and Esau are evidently mixed up in his mind all through. This is not strange. It is bound to happen. Whatever brings God back to mind also brings back the person we have sinned against and never put things right with — maybe with no chance now of putting them right.
Seir was Esau's country, and Jacob sends to it like a man expecting trouble. He had every reason to travel differently.
This was "piping" to Jacob, and Jacob ought to have "danced." He should have breathed an exulting spirit. He should have been in triumph already, before the fighting began, and even before the armies lined up… If the hosts of heaven waited on him like this, what had he to fear from the hosts of Esau? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" But this was not so with him. He laments, rather than dances, at this piping. He trembles, and prays, and calculates. He marshals his forces, as though the battle were his. This is all religious, but it is all unbelief too.
The instructions he gives the messengers reveal what is really driving him.
Jacob was migrating with wives, children, servants and many animals, so he formed a large band. He now became aware that there was a second band, standing on his behalf. Even this did not free him from the fear of Esau, and his approach to him, as given in verses 3-5, though very diplomatic, bears traces of the working of a bad conscience.
The flattering titles in the message are the giveaway — and worth welcoming, since a working conscience is a mercy.
He sends messengers to Esau, who are to say, "My lord Esau; your servant Jacob says," and so on. What a message to his brother! Esau, "my lord"; and Jacob "your servant." Sin always brings its fruit, and wrong its repayment. The man is perfectly aware of the harm he has done to Esau… It is a fine thing when the conscience begins to work. Friend, has your conscience begun to work before God about the evil of your life?
Jacob had already watched God deal with Laban.
Again he turns to his own schemes. He divides the people and the livestock into two companies, saying, If Esau comes to the one and strikes it, then the other will escape. How short and sad man's prudence is! God stopped Laban when he meant harm, and made him leave with a kiss all round. Could He not bring Esau to Jacob with an embrace, and even with tears? The Holy Spirit records Jacob's state here for our lasting profit: do not be anxious about tomorrow, but cast everything on the God of all grace, because He cares for us. Jacob had a bad conscience as yet, and had never faced it all out in God's presence. Yet God was faithful to him, not he to God.
Scripture records the failure for a reason.
God gives us the history of Jacob in such full detail in order to show how His grace could meet a man of that kind, rise above all his failures, and bless him.
- Escort. God's messengers met Jacob first. Grace arrives before the crisis does.
- Errand. Jacob answers heaven's messengers by sending his own to Seir. He manages Esau instead of leaning on God.
- Conscience. Nearness to God brings back the memory of the person we wronged. "My lord" and "your servant" expose guilt that is not yet healed.
- Unbelief. Heaven's armies surround him, yet he trembles, calculates and lines up his forces. That is religious activity, but it is still unbelief.
- Faithfulness. The God who turned Laban aside could turn Esau; Jacob was not faithful to God, but God stayed faithful to Jacob.
And he commanded them, saying, Thus shall ye speak to my lord, to Esau Thy servant Jacob speaks thus -- With Laban have I sojourned and tarried until now;
Jacob is heading home to Canaan, and the angels of God have just met him at Mahanaim. His next move is not worship but strategy. He sends a message ahead to the brother he wronged, and he speaks to him like a subject addressing a king.
Seir and Edom are not two different destinations. The names belong to the same rugged country that Esau's family made their own:
The early name of the long range of mountains, extending from about eight miles south of the Salt Sea to near the Gulf of Akaba. It is also called "the land of Seir." It was occupied at first by the Horites, and afterwards by the descendants of Esau, and acquired the name of EDOM.
What Jacob did after the angels met him shows how little that sight steadied him:
"Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him." Still God's grace follows him, despite everything. "Nothing changes God's affection." Whom He loves, and as He loves, He loves to the end… It is clear that he feels uneasy about Esau, and with good reason. He had treated him badly, and his conscience was not at ease. But he does not throw himself fully on God. He goes back to his usual planning, to head off Esau's anger. He tries to manage Esau, instead of leaning on God.
God's messengers met him, and at once he sent messengers of his own. One writer explains why the two go together:
It is remarkable too that just when he has met God's messengers, he sends his own to Esau. But all the way through, God and Esau are mixed together in his mind. This is not strange but unavoidable. Whatever brings God back to our souls also brings back the one we have sinned against — sinned without making it right, and perhaps with no way to make it right.
The wording of the message is the point. Jacob is speaking to his own brother, yet he calls him lord and calls himself a servant:
All this shows a soul very much off its centre in God. "My lord," and "your servant," is not the language of a brother, or of someone standing in the conscious dignity of God's presence. But it was the language of Jacob — and of Jacob with a bad conscience.
A guilty conscience produced the phrase, and a stirred conscience is not itself a bad thing:
Sin always brings its fruit, and wrong its payback. The man is fully aware of the harm he has done to Esau. He knows that perfectly well, and now his conscience begins to work. It is a fine thing when the conscience begins to work. Friend, has your conscience begun to work before God about the evil of your life?
The message goes on to list livestock and servants — Jacob's own "camp," set beside the camp of God he had just named:
"This is God's host," he says, and he calls the place "Mahanaim" — that is, "two hosts," or "camps." Here he must have been counting in his own, and at once he dwells on it in his message to Esau… How telling that a little later he divides this host of his into two camps! He says, "If Esau comes to the one camp and attacks it, then the camp that is left will escape." Such is our strength when we build on it.
Jacob already had God's promise and God's host behind him. Fear of Esau's men outweighed both:
Instead of remembering God's word, "I will be with you," and that God's host had met him, he turns back to his own schemes. He wants to "find favor in the sight of" and to "appease" "my lord Esau." To faith, what would it matter if Esau had four thousand men instead of four hundred? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" Besides, what right or claim had Esau? But we put ourselves under the men of the world when we use worldly, deceitful ways in dealing with them.
- Guilt — Jacob had wronged Esau and never put it right. Remembering God brought back the man he had sinned against.
- Grace — God saved him from Laban and met him with angels on the road. His affection does not change, and He loves to the end.
- Language — "my lord," "your servant" is not how a brother speaks; it is how a bad conscience speaks.
- Leaning — he counted his own camp and tried to manage Esau instead of leaning on God. Then fear made him split that camp in two.
- Loss — God's promise, "I will be with you," made four hundred men beside the point. Worldly ways put us under the world.
and I have oxen, and asses, sheep, and bondmen, and bondwomen; and I have sent to tell my lord, that I may find favour in thine eyes.
Jacob is heading home, and the one man he must pass is the brother he wronged. The message he sends ahead lists his wealth, calls Esau his lord, and asks for favour — and commentators read every phrase as a window into his heart.
The wording Jacob chooses is not how brothers speak to each other. He puts Esau above himself and takes the place of a servant. Writers trace this to the state of his soul, not to good manners.
All this shows a soul very much off its centre in God. "My lord" and "your servant" is not the language of a brother, or of someone with the conscious dignity of God's presence. But it was Jacob's language — and Jacob with a bad conscience.
Yet a conscience at work is not all loss.
Sin always brings its fruit, and wrong its payment. The man is fully aware of the harm he has done to Esau. Now his conscience begins to work. It is a fine thing when the conscience begins to work. Friend, has your conscience begun to work before God about the evil of your life?
Jacob had just seen the angels of God and named the place Mahanaim, "two camps." What he sends Esau is a count of his own camp.
"This is God's camp," he says; and he calls the place "Mahanaim" — that is, "two camps." Here he must have counted in his own, and so we find him dwelling on it at once in his message to Esau: "I have oxen, donkeys, flocks, male servants, and female servants. I have sent to tell my lord, in order that I may find favor in your sight." How telling that a little later we find him dividing this camp of his into two, saying, "If Esau comes to the one camp and attacks it, then the other camp which is left will escape"! Such is our strength when we build on it. In the time of need, our own — what is it? And God's — where shall we find it?
The list of animals and servants tells Esau that Jacob needs nothing from him. The closing words then ask for favour — and the news that comes back undoes him.
We see the lesson of faith poorly learned. Again he falls back on his plans, and sends messengers to his brother in Seir, with words skilfully framed to win over "my lord Esau" and "your servant Jacob." Esau was not to fear that Jacob needed to take anything from a brother or a father. He had plenty of resources of his own, and only wanted favour in his sight. But no answer came back from Esau, and that filled Jacob with alarm and distress. His fear grew when the messengers told him that Esau was coming to meet him with four hundred men. Why, except to overwhelm him? It was unbelief of Him who cannot forget His promise, and who can control and turn even the most hostile spirit.
This message is one of Jacob's moves; he will also pray. Mackintosh says the two habits cannot share one heart.
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after making his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance; but as soon as he stops praying he takes up the planning again. Now praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean on God alone. So the two are completely incompatible; in effect they destroy each other.
The story's ending shows how little the careful message achieved.
Just see how useless Jacob's plans were to buy a pardon with a gift! Yet he perhaps claims the credit for the happy outcome. Jacob said, "I will appease him with a present" … "I have sent to tell my lord, in order that I may find favor in your sight." But Esau had not even seen the female servants and male servants, or flocks, donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, and said, Who are these?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. He took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
- Conscience — "my lord" and "your servant" is not how a brother speaks. It is the language of a man whose soul is off its centre in God, with an old wrong catching up with him.
- Camps — Jacob named one place "two camps" after seeing God's host. His list of oxen, donkeys, flocks and servants shows which camp he counted on.
- Cracks — he soon split that strength in two, hoping half would escape. Our own resources come to nothing in the hour of need.
- Cry — he prays, then goes straight back to scheming. You cannot lean on a plan and lean on God at the same time.
- Coming — Esau wept on his neck before he saw a single animal. The favour Jacob worked so hard to buy was never for sale.
And the messengers returned to Jacob, saying, We came to thy brother, to Esau; and he also is coming to meet thee, and four hundred men with him.
Twenty years earlier Jacob wronged his brother Esau. Now he sends a humble message ahead to him, and the reply that comes back is not really a reply at all.
The messengers carried a message but brought none home. What frightened Jacob was as much the silence as the size of the company.
We see the lesson of faith only feebly learnt. Again he falls back on his plans. He sends messengers to his brother in Seir, with words carefully framed to win over "my lord Esau" from "your servant Jacob." But no answer came back from Esau, and that filled Jacob with alarm and distress. It was worse still when the messengers told him that Esau was coming with four hundred men. Why, except to overwhelm him? It was unbelief of the One who cannot forget His promise, but can control and turn even the most hostile spirit.
What the messengers left out mattered as much as what they said.
The messengers bring back word that Esau is coming with four hundred men to meet Jacob (v.6). They say nothing about whether Esau was glad to hear of Jacob or not; and Jacob is thrown into a panic.
The dread had a second source, inside Jacob himself.
For twenty years we have no record that Jacob had judged himself, or humbled himself before God, over his sin against Esau. So when the report of Esau's approach came, it struck his conscience, and he was "greatly afraid and distressed." This was a searching moment. God knew how to reach the sore spot. It put Jacob thoroughly to the test, and was enough to show him to himself and to others.
There is a reason a fresh sense of God revives an old, unsettled wrong.
It is striking that he sends his own messengers to Esau in Seir just after meeting God's messengers. God and Esau run together in his mind all through. That is not strange. It had to be so. Whatever brings God back to our souls also brings back the person we wronged — wronged without putting it right, and perhaps with no way now to put it right.
God's messengers had met Jacob just before this. The four hundred cancelled them out in his reckoning.
This was music played for Jacob, and Jacob should have danced. He should have breathed a triumphant spirit. He should have been in triumph before any fighting started, before the armies even lined up. If the hosts of heaven were waiting on him like this, what did he have to fear from the hosts of Esau? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" But this was not how it was with him. He mourns instead of dancing to this music. He trembles, and prays, and calculates. He marshals his forces, as if the battle were his.
Jacob's first move after the news was not prayer.
But what does he do first? Does he throw himself on God at once? No; he starts to manage… Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after making his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance; but the moment he stops praying, he goes back to planning. Now praying and planning will never work together. If I plan, I am leaning to some degree on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean on God alone.
The man Jacob was bracing himself against had already stopped being an enemy.
The host of God was forgotten; and the army of Esau, who no longer held any hatred in his heart against his brother, frightened the feeble Jacob. He could then use every kind of means to soothe the anger of his brother, which he assumed and dreaded. He sends flock after flock across; and this does more to show the state of Jacob's heart than to change Esau's.
This story also speaks to anyone facing trouble they brought on themselves.
Sometimes our own wrongdoing has landed us in the trouble we face, and we rightly dread what comes next. Even that we can take to God, once we have confessed our sin. We can cast all the worry of it on Him. Jacob and Esau show how God can and will turn dreaded events into blessing, when we wait on Him in brokenness.
- Silence. The report said nothing about Esau's heart, so Jacob's fear filled the gap.
- Conscience. Twenty years without self-judgment left a sore spot, and God knew where to press.
- Amnesia. Jacob forgot the host of angels the moment he heard of a human army.
- Order. He planned, then prayed, then planned again — and leaning on a plan is not leaning on God.
- Groundless. The brother he tried to buy off no longer hated him, and dread taken to God turns into blessing.
Then Jacob was greatly afraid, and was distressed; and he divided the people that were with him, and the sheep and the cattle and the camels, into two troops.
Jacob is on his way home after twenty years away. Word comes back that the brother he cheated is riding toward him with four hundred men. He has just seen the angels of God, and he still reaches first for a plan.
The fear in this verse did not begin with the messengers' report. It began years earlier, with a wrong Jacob had never dealt with before God.
All through those years we have no record that Jacob judged himself, or humbled himself before God, about his sin against Esau. So the report of Esau's approach struck his conscience, and he was "greatly afraid and distressed." This was a searching moment. God knew how to reach the sore spot. It put Jacob fully to the test and showed him what he was, to himself and to others.
Notice what Jacob assumes. The report says only that Esau is coming; Jacob supplies the motive himself.
The news that Esau was coming to meet him with four hundred men awoke his sharpest fears. He had seen the band of angels. Even so, his working conscience made him assume at once that Esau was on his way to take revenge.
Jacob's own name for an earlier place comes back on him here.
"This is God's host," he says. He calls the place "Mahanaim" — that is, "two hosts," or "camps." He must have counted his own company in as the second one, and in his message to Esau he dwells on it at once... How telling that in a very little while he divides this host of his into two camps! Such is our strength when we build on it, even though we would like to link God's power with it. In the hour of need, our own — what is it? And God's — where shall we find it?
Jacob does pray. But the plan comes first, and it comes back again afterwards.
But what does he do first? Does he at once cast himself on God? No; he begins to manage... Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance. But as soon as he stops praying, he takes up the planning again. Now, praying and planning will never work together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean on God alone... It is not asking God to bless my means; it is asking Him to do it all Himself.
Jacob is willing to write off half of everything he has.
He is so frightened that he does not first appeal to the Lord. Instead he divides his company into two bands, thinking one band may escape if Esau attacks the first. Of course such human reasoning was not God's leading. God does not divide His saints to sacrifice one part of them for the protection of the other. He loves all His saints, and will not sacrifice any of them to the enemy.
Jacob's terror had nothing behind it.
You do not get rid of the difficulties on the path of faith by trying to avoid them. You must overcome them by the power of God. Jacob had brought these difficulties on himself, because he had not trusted God. Jacob forgot the host of God. Esau no longer held any hatred in his heart against his brother, but his army frightened the feeble Jacob.
Jacob had just watched God handle Laban for him.
How short and sad man's own planning is! God stopped Laban's hostile plans and made him leave with a kiss all round. Could He not bring Esau to Jacob with an embrace, and with tears too? The Holy Spirit records Jacob's state here for lasting profit. We are not to be anxious about tomorrow. We are to cast everything on the God of all grace, because He cares for us. Yet God was faithful to him, though he was not faithful to God.
Not every commentator treats this fear as only a failure.
If your conscience is working before God, and you are greatly afraid and distressed, all I can say to you is that I am thankful. Better to be in that state now, with your conscience at work and in distress about your sins. Far worse to wake up in eternity and find that your whole life has been one huge mistake.
- Conscience. Twenty years of silence did not erase the wrong. The news about Esau reached the one spot Jacob had never brought to God.
- Forgotten. He had just named a place "two camps" after seeing God's angels. Then he made two camps of his own and trusted those instead.
- Divided. His scheme meant sacrificing half his household to save the other half; God does not deal with His people that way.
- Groundless. Esau's heart already held no hatred. Unbelief manufactured the whole terror.
- Faithful. God stayed faithful to the man who was not faithful to Him. That is why the story stands written: so we cast everything on Him, because He cares for us.
And he said, If Esau come to the one troop and smite it, then the other troop which is left shall escape.
Jacob has just heard that Esau is coming toward him with four hundred men. He answers by splitting everything he owns into two camps, hoping half will survive. This verse is his reasoning out loud, and commentators treat it as a study in fear that acts before faith does.
God had just met Jacob with a company of angels on the road. It made no difference to his nerves.
The vision of two bands of angels did not deliver Jacob from fear for himself and his two bands. He was not at ease with God, though a believer. All that hindered communion was not yet judged; and so came his utter dread of Esau. He had no idea that Esau's feelings toward him had changed.
The dread had an older root than Esau's four hundred men.
Despite the host of God, he is greatly afraid and distressed when the news about Esau reaches him. His guilt, half forgotten, stings him into fear. It brings his soul into bondage before God.
The place where the angels met him he named Mahanaim — "two camps." A few verses later he has made two camps of his own.
He called that place Mahanaim — two hosts — God's host and his host. If God is there, so is Jacob. But when the day of trial comes, God vanishes from his thoughts and Jacob alone remains. He divides the people with him, and the flocks, and herds, and the camels, into two bands, and they fill the whole field of his vision.
What is that strength worth when the test comes?
Such is our strength when we build on it, though perhaps we would like to link God's power with it. In the time of need, our own — what is it? And God's — where shall we find it?
The order of Jacob's actions matters.
But what does he first do? Does he at once cast himself upon God? No; he begins to manage... Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance; but as soon as he stops praying he takes up the planning again. Now, praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean only upon God. So the two things are completely incompatible; in effect they destroy each other.
The plan was also unnecessary. God had already dealt with Laban.
Again he turns to his devices, dividing the people and the stock into two companies, saying that if Esau comes to the one and attacks it, the other will escape. How short and sad is man's prudence! He who stopped Laban's hostile intentions and made him leave with a kiss all round — could He not bring Esau to Jacob with an embrace, and not without tears? The Holy Spirit records his state here for lasting profit: that we should not be anxious about tomorrow, but cast everything on the God of all grace, because He cares for us... Yet God was faithful to him, not he to God.
Jacob's arithmetic gives up one half to save the other.
God does not divide His saints to sacrifice one part of them for the protection of the other. He loves all His saints, and has no intention of sacrificing any of them to the enemy. But what about ourselves when trouble of any kind threatens us? Every believer surely knows that our only true resource is in the Lord. Yet our first impulse is to try something to relieve us, instead of going first to the One who can really help.
The same trouble runs through our own day.
The trouble today is that people — even Christians — put policy side by side with faith. A godly young man once said, "Policy I hate; but faithfulness to God I love." ... God looks for this: that we be anxious for nothing, pray about everything, and exercise faith in our gracious God who raised up Christ from among the dead. He also looks for us to have no confidence in the flesh — in its ability, resources, or righteousness.
- Two camps. Jacob named a place after God's host, then made two hosts of his own. The moment he counted his own strength as a second camp, God's camp dropped out of view.
- Bad conscience. Esau's approach only exposed an old wrong never judged before God. Angels on the road could not calm a heart that was not at ease with Him.
- Plan then pray. His first thought was a plan, his second a prayer. Commentators press the point: leaning on a plan and leaning on God cancel each other out.
- Needless. The God who had already turned Laban aside could bring Esau to an embrace. Jacob guarded himself against a danger that was no longer there.
- Policy or faith. The scheme wrote off half the household as an acceptable loss. God divides no part of His people to save another. Scripture tells us to judge this mixture of faith and scheming in ourselves.
And Jacob said, God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac, Jehovah, who saidst unto me Return into thy country and to thy kindred, and I will do thee good,
Esau is coming with four hundred men, and Jacob has just split his camp into two bands. Now he prays, quoting God's own command back to Him — real faith, or one more move in his plan?
Jacob makes his plan first, then prays. One writer says the two cannot live together.
True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance. But as soon as he stops praying, he goes back to planning. Praying and planning will never work together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean only on God. So the two things are incompatible; they destroy each other. When my eye is full of my own management of things, I am not ready to see God acting for me. Then prayer is not the voice of my need. It becomes a mere superstitious ritual, or a request that God would bless my plans. I should not be asking God to bless my methods, but asking Him to do it all Himself.
Jacob does not ask on the strength of his own record. He goes back to the command that sent him home. (Jehovah, in the quote below, is the name the verse gives as "the LORD".)
He reminds Jehovah, the God of his fathers Abraham and Isaac, that he was returning to his country and family at God's own command. He owns that he is unworthy of the least of all His mercies and of all His truth... We can easily see that it was faith, but as yet mixed with human schemes.
One writer turns this into a pattern anyone can copy.
He told God that He Himself had told him to return home, and had promised to do him good... If you plead God's promises, and confess you are not worthy, but only a lost sinner, He will hear your prayer.
At Bethel, Jacob had vowed to take the LORD as his own God. Here he names God twice as his father's God, and once as the LORD who spoke to him. One writer sees that vow still unpaid.
It is all Jacob here, and not Jehovah; Jehovah's glory set aside and only Jacob's blessing thought of... I, I, I, fills the scene, and is the whole subject of his prayer. So in this hour of trial he fails to keep his vow. He owns Jehovah only as the God of his father Abraham, the God of his father Isaac, the Jehovah who spoke to him — but not as his own God.
Another writer presses the danger on anyone who leans on a godly family.
He was trying to draw on the piety of his father and grandfather. He thought the godly lives of his forefathers would add weight to his prayer. What a serious mistake! Every man must stand on his own responsibility before God. Your mother's prayers will not do you the slightest good, unconverted prodigal, unless you trust the Lord Jesus for yourself.
Still, this is not the Jacob of Bethel. The man who once bargained now opens with God's promise and closes with his own unworthiness.
But where was Jacob's faith to be sure that God would deal well with him in his own land? He should have had perfect confidence that God would do this, because God said He would. Still, he has learned more than he had when he made his vow at Bethel. He had thought then that he would prove fully worthy of whatever blessing God would give him. Now he confesses, "I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and all the truth which You have shown Your servant." At least he is giving up the self-confidence he showed before. But he has not yet learned to have total confidence in the living God.
Commentators differ on how much faith this prayer holds. Some find almost none in it. Others say Jacob was right to make the God of Abraham and Isaac his refuge. They agree the answer had to wait until Jacob's own resources were gone.
He was greatly troubled, full of fear, and rightly enough made the God of Abraham and of Isaac his refuge. His prayer, as recorded in Genesis 32, was humble, earnest, and pleading. But along with it there was some reckoning on his own policy... So God had to deal sharply with His servant before answering his prayer. That way Jacob would give the glory to the One who alone deserved it.
- Plan — Jacob's first move was to manage the danger himself, not to seek God. Praying and planning cancel each other out, because a plan gives you something else to lean on.
- Plead — the ground he takes is right. He pleads God's command to return and God's promise to do him good, and claims nothing for himself.
- Personal — he calls God his father's God, not yet his own God. The vow made at Bethel is still unpaid, and no one else's faith will stand in for yours.
- Progress — "I am not worthy" is real growth in the man who once bargained at Bethel. Full confidence in God is still missing.
- Prevail — he still leaned on his own policy while he prayed. So God had to break him before answering, and the glory went where it belonged.
-- I am too small for all the loving-kindness and all the faithfulness that thou hast shewn unto thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become two troops.
Twenty years after fleeing home, Jacob is back at the border, and Esau is marching toward him with four hundred men. He prays, and this verse is not a request but a confession: he weighs his life between a walking stick and two companies, and says he has earned neither.
The writers below quote an older translation. Where they say "mercies and truth" and "two bands," the ESV says "steadfast love and faithfulness" and "two camps."
Jacob has heard God speak before. Here we finally hear Jacob.
God had stepped in before, and Jacob had made a vow, but this is the first prayer of his that Scripture records. It does not have the closeness to God and the prayer for others that marked Abraham in Genesis 18. It was simply a plea to be kept safe, while acknowledging God's mercies to him in the past. Yet notice how rightly he took a low place, though not as low as Abraham, who said, "I … am but dust and ashes" (18:27). Jacob says, "I am not worthy of the least of all Your mercies," which was true, though it did not go far enough. In every age, the closer a person comes to God, the deeper their sense of unworthiness and nothingness grows.
The order of the chapter matters. Jacob divides his camp first, and only then turns to God.
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance. But as soon as he stops praying, he goes back to planning. Now, praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean only on God. So the two things are completely incompatible; in effect they destroy each other.
Years earlier at Bethel, Jacob made a vow. What he says now shows how much has changed.
He has learned more than he had when he made his vow at Bethel. He had thought then that he would prove fully worthy of whatever blessing God would give him. Now he confesses, "I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and all the truth which You have shown Your servant" (v.10). At least he is giving up the self-confidence he showed before. But he has not yet learned to trust the living God completely.
The two halves of the verse are the two ends of twenty years, and the second half carries its own danger.
He is on his way back to Canaan, but it is a different Jacob and a different journey. He was an empty Jacob at Bethel; he is a full Jacob at Peniel. He has become two bands. Flocks and herds and servants and wives and children tell of his prosperity. Twenty years before he had been on that road, friendless and alone, with a staff in his hand. Now we see him surrounded by all this. He has become a rich man. He has a stake in the world. He has something to lose.
Behind these words is a past that Jacob could now see clearly.
He had been false and crooked. But Jacob was now before God, and he saw himself in the light of heaven. He saw how he had deceived his old father, cheated his brother, made bargains with God, and deceived his uncle. You and I are not worthy, but God shows His mercy and truth to us bad, crooked sinners. Let us come and tell it all to God.
Jacob rests his case on mercy rather than on any claim, and that is exactly the ground God honours.
Their hope is not in His justice, but in His mercy. This is what Jacob depended on when he prayed, "I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and of all the truth which You have shown Your servant" (Gen. 32:10). Can God possibly ignore such a prayer? No: He delights in the confessed weakness and failure of a believing heart, and His mercy is fully extended to them.
Commentators differ on how much faith this prayer shows. One finds none in it.
Where is faith in this? There is none. If he had only had in his soul the sense that God was with him, he could not have prayed like this. There is nothing more blessed for a man than to have in his soul the sense that God is for him and with him. But Jacob did not have that.
Another sees real faith in it, mixed with something else.
He owns his unworthiness of the least of all His mercies and of all His truth. He compares how poor he was when he first crossed the Jordan with the two companies he has now… We can see that it was faith, but faith still mixed with human schemes. So he was far from resting calmly on God, and was even in sheer terror of Esau.
- Unworthy. Jacob's first recorded prayer takes a low place. The closer we come to God, the smaller we feel.
- Unlearned. At Bethel he thought he would prove worthy. Now his self-confidence is gone, though his trust in God is still not complete.
- Unmixed. Planning and praying cancel each other out — leaning on a scheme is not leaning on God.
- Unearned. A staff at the start, two companies at the end. Everything in between was mercy to a false and crooked man.
- Unashamed. God shows mercy and truth to crooked sinners, so come and tell Him everything.
Deliver me, I pray thee, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau; for I fear him, lest he come and smite me, [and] the mother with the children.
Jacob is heading back to his own country with his wives, children and flocks. Word has just reached him that Esau — the brother he wronged years before — is coming to meet him with four hundred men.
The prayer is real. It also comes from a man who has already worked out a plan of his own.
After the trembling man had made his plan, he turns to God, and we can trace the work slowly going on in his soul. He reminds the LORD, the God of his fathers Abraham and Isaac, that God Himself had told him to return home. He owns his unworthiness of the least of all His mercies and of all His truth... He begs God to deliver him from the hand of his brother Esau, whom he dreaded both for himself and for the mother with the children... We can readily see that it was faith, but as yet mixed with human schemes. So he was far from resting peacefully on God, and was even in abject terror of Esau.
Esau was not the real problem. God had already promised to keep Jacob, so the fear came from somewhere else.
God had said to Jacob, "Behold, I am with you and will keep you" (Gen. 28:15). Esau would not have been able to touch him. If Jacob's ways had not been deceitful, he would not have been afraid of Esau. But you see, his conscience is working... He was afraid of his brother, whom he counted as his enemy. Esau was not his enemy, though he might have been. It was Jacob's own conscience that suggested Esau was against him. God was for him, but he had lost the sense of it.
God had already sent Jacob encouragement. Jacob lost sight of it, and Esau's four hundred men filled his whole horizon.
Still, despite this encouragement from God, unbelief renews Jacob's fear when he faces his brother Esau. Rescue from danger does not destroy unbelief. You do not get rid of the difficulties in the path of faith by trying to avoid them. You must overcome them by the power of God. Jacob had brought these difficulties on himself, because he had not trusted God. God's army was forgotten. Esau no longer held any hatred in his heart against his brother, but his army still frightened the feeble Jacob.
Jacob asks God to deliver him, then goes straight back to his own arrangements.
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and here we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance. But as soon as he stops praying he starts planning again. Now, praying and planning will never work together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean on God alone. So the two things are completely incompatible; they destroy each other. When my eye is filled with my own management of things, I am not ready to see God acting for me.
The trouble was of Jacob's own making, and God still met him in it.
We may be in trouble that our own wrongdoing has brought on us, and we may rightly dread the consequences. Even that we can take to God, if we have sincerely confessed our sin... Jacob had deeply wronged Esau, and now, after years apart, he has to face him... Jacob's conscience naturally makes him fear Esau's resentment. He learns that Esau is coming to meet him with four hundred men. But he lays it before God in prayer (v. 11). The result was remarkable. The man whose revenge he feared "ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept"!
The prayer did not settle Jacob, and his gifts did not settle Esau. What came next went deeper than either.
The fact is that he was dissatisfied with himself, and feels the need of drawing near to God in a way he had never yet known... His plans did nothing to soften Esau, any more than to relieve his own dread. But he was now to be alone with God. God took him up in a way worthy of Himself. He laid the basis for the deepening work in his soul ever after, and for a blessing which at last shone in Jacob's later years beyond his father or even his grandfather.
- Conscience — The dread is not about Esau's four hundred men. It comes from Jacob's own wrong against his brother.
- Forgetting — God had just encouraged Jacob with His own army, and unbelief erased that the moment a threat appeared.
- Divided trust — He prays for deliverance, then goes back to his own plan. Leaning on a plan and leaning on God cancel each other out.
- Answered anyway — Esau had no hatred left in his heart, and the meeting Jacob dreaded ended in an embrace and tears.
- Purpose — The fear drove Jacob to be alone with God, and there began a blessing greater than his father's or his grandfather's.
And thou saidst, I will certainly deal well with thee, and make thy seed as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude.
Jacob is on the way to meet his brother Esau, and he is afraid Esau will kill him. His prayer ends with no new argument, only an old one — a sentence God Himself had spoken, and the verse turns on two words: "you said."
One writer traces the steps of the prayer, from Jacob's appeal to the God of his fathers down to this closing plea:
He reminds the Lord, the God of his fathers Abraham and Isaac, that he was going back to his country and family because God told him to. He admits he is unworthy of the least of all His mercies and of all His truth. He compares how poor he was when he first crossed the Jordan with the two companies he has now. He begs God earnestly to save him from his brother Esau. He dreaded Esau both for himself and for the mother with the children. Then he reminds Him of His promise — to surely do him good, and to make his descendants as countless as the sand of the sea.
That way of praying is open to anyone who has a Bible:
You will find it the very strength of your soul to go before God with a text and say, "This is written in Your word. Because You cannot lie, I know that I have that thing."
The verse sets God's promise and Esau's threat side by side, and asks how both can stand.
"For You said," he adds, "I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea," and so on. He was in effect saying to God, "You said this, but now Esau might kill me, and what will happen to Your promise?" Did he need to plead with God to keep His promise?
Commentators differ over Jacob's wording. One reads it as a mistake:
He did make an error in saying that God had told him He would make his descendants as the sand of the sea. God had said this to Abraham (Genesis 22:17). To Jacob He had promised descendants "as the dust of the earth" (Genesis 28:14).
Another finds meaning in the change:
Isaac pictures the heavenly company and Jacob the earthly. So God speaks of the stars to Isaac and of the dust to Jacob. Yet in Genesis 32:12, Jacob says God had also promised to give him descendants as the "sand of the sea." In this chapter Jacob is about to meet Esau and make peace with him. That is a picture of the Gentiles brought into blessing through the Jew in a day still to come. It is striking that just here Jacob should mention the sand.
The prayer sits between the plans Jacob made and the gift he sent.
Jacob arranges his plans, though not without prayer (Genesis 32:7-12). He sends his presents (Genesis 32:13-23) to appease his brother — a brother God had already appeased, since Esau was coming to meet Jacob with family affection. In his appeal to God he recalls His promises, for he had faith, however feeble.
Another writer turns that mixture on the reader:
The trouble of the present day is that people, even Christians, rank policy side by side with faith. A godly young man used to say, "Policy I hate; but faithfulness to God I love." Surely nothing is more clearly stated in Scripture than that "without faith it is impossible to please God." But this mixture of faith and contrivance is what is before us here. The truth urges us strongly to judge ourselves about it.
The words Jacob quotes were never a bargain he had to secure. They were God binding Himself.
Here we have the blessed statement of what the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob promised to do for Jacob and for his descendants. It is crowned by these memorable words: "I will not leave you until I have done what I have spoken to you of." These are the terms by which God binds Himself to Jacob. And these terms, blessed be His name, God has kept and will keep to the letter, though earth and hell should try to prevent it.
- You said — Jacob's strongest plea is a quotation. He brings God nothing of his own at the end, only what God had already spoken.
- Faith, however feeble — the prayer is real faith, mixed with human scheming. The praying and the planning run side by side.
- Already answered — Esau was coming in family affection before Jacob ever sent the gifts. God had moved first.
- Sand or dust — God promised countless descendants in more than one form. Writers differ: was Jacob's "sand" a mistake, or a reach toward the blessing of the nations?
- Bound by His word — the promise Jacob leaned on rests on God binding Himself, and He will keep it to the letter. Judge the scheming in yourself; the promise itself never wobbles.
And he lodged there that night; and took of what came to his hand a gift for Esau his brother --
Jacob has just prayed to God for rescue from Esau. Before the night ends he is back among his herds, choosing a present to send ahead — so what was he leaning on?
Notice the order. Jacob prays, and then goes straight back to his own planning.
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for rescue. But as soon as he stops praying, he goes back to planning. Now, praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean on God alone.
The animals were not a brother's gift. Jacob sent them to buy safety, and it turned out he never needed to.
Just see how vain are Jacob's plans to buy a pardon with a present! Yet perhaps he takes the credit for the happy outcome. Jacob said, "I will appease him with a present." … "I have sent to tell my lord that I may find grace in your sight." But Esau had not even seen the servants, the flocks, the donkeys and the oxen until he had wept on his brother's neck. Only then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, and said, Who are these?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant till Jacob told him. And then he took the gift not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
Something had already happened on the road that Jacob seems to have forgotten.
On his way back to Canaan, God sent an army of His angels to meet Jacob, to comfort and strengthen him. Yet being rescued from danger does not destroy unbelief, and Jacob's fear of his brother Esau came back. You do not get rid of the difficulties on the path of faith by trying to avoid them. You must overcome them by the power of God. Jacob had brought these difficulties on himself, because he had not trusted in God. Jacob forgot the army God had sent. Esau no longer held hatred in his heart against his brother, but his army frightened the feeble Jacob. He could then use all kinds of means to appease the supposed and dreaded anger of his brother. He causes flock after flock to pass; and this does more to show the state of Jacob's heart than to change Esau's.
Jacob also scripted what his servants should say when Esau met them.
He sets apart 560 animals altogether as a present for Esau, apparently in about six droves with some distance between each. He gave the driver of the first drove his instructions: he was to tell Esau that the animals belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?), and that Jacob was giving them as a present to "my lord Esau." When Jacob knew that the Lord had told Rebekah "the older shall serve the younger" (Gen. 25:23), it is sad to see him taking this place of unfitting subservience to Esau. Of course, because he had earlier supplanted Esau, he was moved by both conscience and fear.
This way of thinking is not limited to angry brothers.
This is the natural idea of human beings. They use this method again and again when they seek any proper relationship with God. They act as though God will be swayed by man giving Him presents of things that God created in the first place! But God is not looking for gifts from men. Rather, He desires their hearts.
The story is not only about Jacob.
And here let us judge ourselves seriously, and without sparing, in the way we act. The day of trial will expose the crooked workings of human confidence, and the unbelief behind our own schemes, if we are using them instead of relying only on the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. You can be sure God loves us too well to encourage us in a course so destructive to our own real blessing, and so dishonouring to Him. The trouble today is that policy, even among Christians, now stands side by side with faith.
- Plan — Jacob prays, then plans. The plan shows where his weight really rested, because no one can lean on a scheme and on God at once.
- Price — the droves were meant to buy a pardon, yet Esau embraced him before he had even seen them.
- Mirror — the flocks passing over did more to reveal Jacob's heart than to change his brother's; he had forgotten the army of angels God sent to meet him.
- Position — Jacob called Esau "my lord" and himself Esau's servant. God had told Rebekah the older would serve the younger; conscience and fear, not faith, set that tone.
- Heart — people still try to secure God's favour with gifts of what He made; He is not after presents but after hearts.
two hundred she-goats, and twenty he-goats; two hundred ewes, and twenty rams;
Jacob is back in the land after twenty years away. He has just heard that Esau is coming to meet him with four hundred men. His answer is a counted gift of livestock, sent on ahead — and the question is whether a man who has just prayed for rescue can also buy it.
Jacob counts the animals out and sends them in stages. One writer notes the total, and the way Jacob tells his servants to speak of him:
After prayer Jacob goes back to his planning as to how he can protect himself from Esau. Of course he finds afterward that his planning was totally unnecessary. He sets apart 560 animals altogether as a present for Esau, in what seems to be about six droves, with some distance between each. He told the driver of the first drove what to say to Esau when he met him. He expected Esau to ask who the man was and who owned the animals. The driver was to reply that they belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?), and that Jacob was sending them as a present to "my lord Esau." Jacob knew the Lord had told Rebekah, "The older shall serve the younger." It is sad to see him putting himself so low before Esau. Of course, because he had cheated Esau earlier, both conscience and fear moved him.
Jacob divides his company, prays, and then goes straight back to arranging droves.
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God, after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance; but no sooner does he cease praying than he resumes the planning. Now, praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean on God alone. So the two cannot go together; in effect they destroy each other.
There is a quieter danger here than forgetting to pray. We can fold prayer into the arrangements as one more item on the list.
We often feel very satisfied with ourselves when we add prayer to our arrangements. We feel the same when we have used every lawful means and then asked God to bless them. When this is the case, our prayers are worth about as much as our plans, since we are leaning upon them instead of upon God. We must come to the end of everything that self has a hand in, for until then God cannot show Himself. But we never get to the end of our plans until we come to the end of ourselves.
Jacob said the gift would appease Esau. One writer traces that word back to its first use in the Bible:
The word atonement is the Old Testament word, just as propitiation is the New Testament word, and it simply means to cover. It first appears in Genesis 6:14: God told Noah to pitch — that is, cover — the ark inside and out with pitch. It is used again in Genesis 32:20: Jacob said he would appease Esau with a present, and the present would cover his fault... The offering puts the offence out of sight. Something of equal worth goes to the injured party, and it covers the cause of the offence.
Jacob sends the gift ahead, then hopes: "Perhaps he will accept me." One writer sees in that the first instinct of every sinner before God.
How many people live under the illusion that they must do something to propitiate God. What a mistake! ... Of course if your present is the ground upon which you are to appear before God, you may well say "perhaps." Can you appease Him with a present? Impossible! Yet that is the first thought in the heart of the sinner when he would draw near to God.
The droves never changed Esau's heart. He had not even noticed them when he reached his brother.
Just see how vain are Jacob's plans to buy a pardon with a present! ... But Esau had not even seen the women-servants and men-servants, or flocks, and donkeys, and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck... As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. Then he took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
- Fear counts. Conscience and fear moved Jacob to count out 560 animals for the brother he had cheated.
- Plan cancels prayer. Praying and planning cannot run together. Leaning on a scheme is not leaning on God, and the two destroy each other.
- Prayer joins the plan. Ask God to bless arrangements you have already made, and your prayer is worth no more than the plan.
- "Appease" means cover. To appease is the Old Testament idea of atonement — to cover. The offering puts the offence out of sight.
- Grace arrived first. Esau wept on Jacob's neck before he had even seen the herds. The pardon Jacob tried to buy was already his, and Esau took the gift as a blessing, not a price.
thirty milch camels with their colts; forty kine, and ten bulls; twenty she-asses, and ten young asses.
The animals in this verse are one part of a large present, driven ahead of Jacob to meet Esau, the brother he feared. He sent them right after praying for rescue — so why did he need the cattle as well?
One commentator counts the animals and notes the words Jacob gave his drivers:
He sets apart 560 animals in all as a present for Esau. They seem to have gone in about six droves, with some distance between each. He gave the driver of the first drove instructions as to what to say to Esau when he met him... In reply he was to tell Esau that they belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?). Jacob was giving them as a present to "my lord Esau." Jacob knew that the Lord had told Rebekah "the older shall serve the younger." It is sad to see him putting himself so low before Esau.
Jacob had just poured out an honest prayer asking God to save him from Esau. Then he reached for the cattle:
Jacob asked God to deliver him from his brother Esau. Clearly he was not satisfied with that, so he tried to "appease him with a present." His confidence was in the "present," and not entirely in God... It is often hard to detect what the heart is really resting on. We imagine, or try to persuade ourselves, that we are leaning on God, when we are in reality leaning on some scheme of our own making.
The scheming did not just follow the prayer. It came before the prayer too.
He has such confidence in his own ability to manage the matter that he turned to a rescue plan of his own before he ever prayed. And after his short but orthodox prayer, he at once fled to his own inventions again... He is a double-minded man, trusting in God in some sense, and relying on his own efforts and schemes as well.
Jacob hoped a present would win Esau over. One writer sees the same instinct in how people approach God:
This is the natural idea of human beings. They constantly use this method when they seek a proper relationship with God. They act as though God will be swayed by gifts of things He created in the first place! But God is not looking for gifts from men. Rather, He desires their hearts.
People whose religion works this way are left with one word:
For people like this, as for Jacob, acceptance is still a "perhaps." If your religion is of that sort, how can you know when you have done enough? Suppose it should not be just what you estimate it to be in God's sight. Oh, would you hang eternity upon a — perhaps?
The order of events when the brothers met settles the question:
Just see how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present!... But Esau had not even seen the women servants and men servants, or flocks, and donkeys, and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, and said, Who are these?" As to the droves, he did not know what they meant till Jacob told him. He took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
One writer points to who had already dealt with Esau:
The present was quite unnecessary — the plan useless. God "appeased" Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts and put all our fears to flight.
The droves crossed the ford ahead of him; Jacob stayed behind. What met him there was not Esau but God, and the blessing came by a route that ruined his own strength:
Grace gave him the strength to hold on and to win, but in a way contrary to man's thoughts. It was not Jacob's goodness, wisdom or power at all, but God's faithful mercy. That is why He touched the hollow or socket of Jacob's thigh, so that it went out of joint. This would make the strongest man powerless; but it was not so here. His grace enabled Jacob to hold on.
- Counted. Around 560 animals in staged droves, each driver given his lines — Jacob measured his fear in livestock.
- Divided. Jacob schemed before he prayed and again after; his real confidence sat in the present, not in God.
- Purchased. The human heart tries to buy acceptance with a gift. God asks for hearts, not presents.
- Unnecessary. Esau wept on his neck before he saw a single animal; God had appeased him already, as He had appeased Laban.
- Blessed. What Jacob needed came last: his strength withered, and he held on to a mercy no gift could buy.
And he delivered [them] into the hand of his servants, every drove by itself; and he said to his servants, Go on before me, and put a space between drove and drove.
Jacob is hours away from meeting the brother he cheated years earlier. Esau is coming with four hundred men. Jacob's answer is a procession of livestock: herd after herd handed to servants, sent on ahead, and spaced out so that each one arrives alone.
The gaps between the herds are not an accident of travel. Jacob planned them, so that Esau would meet herd after herd before he met Jacob himself.
His prayer over, he resumes his plans, and sends a present to Esau. He divides the present into five droves, so as to make it look as imposing as possible, and he sends his servants forward.
Another writer weighs what methods like these reveal.
Unbelief and worldly scheming are carefully wrapped up in their own fears. They give themselves away by the very methods they turn to, and by their style of action.
Jacob prayed for rescue. Then he got up and organised the herds.
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance; but as soon as he stops praying he resumes the planning. Now, praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean exclusively upon God.
The same writer asks where Jacob's confidence was resting.
We imagine, or would like to persuade ourselves, that we are leaning upon God, when we are in reality leaning upon some scheme of our own devising.
Jacob wants to soften Esau before he meets him face to face. Commentators see the same instinct in how people try to approach God.
This is the natural idea of human beings. They constantly use this method when they seek a proper relationship with God. They act as though God will be won over by man giving Him presents of things that God created in the first place! But God is not looking for gifts from men. Rather, He desires their hearts.
Jacob's plan ended on a word of uncertainty, and so does every version of it since.
Jacob's way of winning his brother is still a much approved and fashionable way when the question and the Person are of far more importance. "I may appease him with the present that goes ahead of me," he says, "and afterward I shall see his face. Perhaps he will accept me." And with these, as with Jacob, acceptance is still a "perhaps." If your religion is of that sort, how can you know when you have done enough? Suppose it should not be just what you estimate it to be in God's sight. Oh, would you hang eternity upon a — perhaps?
When the brothers finally met, Esau's response had nothing to do with the plan.
Just see how useless are Jacob's plans to buy a pardon with a present! … But Esau had not even seen the women-servants and men-servants, or flocks, and donkeys, and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Then he "lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children" and said, "Who are these with you?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. Then he took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
The instinct to put distance between himself and danger kept going until Jacob had sent forward his gift, his servants, his wives and his sons. What he had engineered as self-protection God used for something else entirely.
Not a very dignified or courageous proceeding! Yet God was in all this. Because he was left alone, the moment had come for God to bring him face to face with Himself, so that he might have an experience he would never lose. Up to this point his life had been mainly one of scheming against and wrestling with men. Now God by His Messenger was going to wrestle with him.
- Fear plans. Jacob spaced the herds to make the gift look as impressive as possible. Fear, not generosity, did the arranging.
- Plans crowd out prayer. Jacob prayed well, then went straight back to managing. You cannot lean on a scheme and on God at the same time.
- Gifts cannot buy favour. Sending a present ahead of a meeting is how people still approach God, but He wants hearts, not presents.
- "Perhaps" is the wage of self-effort. A gift can never tell you when you have given enough — it can only say perhaps.
- Grace arrives first. Esau had not even looked at the droves before he fell on Jacob's neck and wept. Jacob already had the favour he schemed for.
And he commanded the foremost, saying, When Esau my brother meets thee, and asks thee, saying, Whose art thou, and where goest thou, and whose are these before thee?
Jacob has just prayed for rescue from the brother he wronged. Now he goes back to managing the danger himself. Droves of livestock go ahead, and the first driver gets a script for the moment Esau stops him. The answer he rehearses tells us more about Jacob than about Esau. Why does a man who holds God's promise talk to his brother like a servant before a king?
One commentator notes the word Jacob chose not to have his servants use:
After prayer Jacob goes back to his planning about how he can protect himself from Esau. He expected Esau to ask who the man was and who owned the animals. In reply he was to tell Esau that they belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?), and Jacob was giving them as a present to "my lord Esau." When Jacob knew that the Lord had told Rebekah "the older shall serve the younger," it is sad to see him taking this unfitting place of a servant under Esau. Of course, because of his previous supplanting of Esau, he was moved by both conscience and fear.
Jacob's prayer just before this was real. Yet the planning starts again the moment it ends. One writer asks what a prayer added to our own plans is worth:
Nor will it do to make our prayers part of our management. We often feel very well satisfied with ourselves when we add prayer to our arrangement. When this is the case, our prayers are worth about as much as our plans, because we are leaning on them instead of on God. We must be brought right to the end of everything that self has any part in. Until then, God cannot show Himself.
Jacob kept sending livestock ahead to soften his brother. The effect landed on Jacob himself:
He could then use all kinds of means to appease the anger he assumed his brother felt and dreaded. He sends flock after flock past, and that does more to show the state of Jacob's heart than to change Esau's.
When the brothers met, Esau's welcome came before he had any idea what the droves were for:
Just see how useless are Jacob's plans to buy a pardon with a present! Jacob said, "I will appease him with a present." … "I have sent to tell my lord that I may find grace in your sight." But Esau had not even seen the women-servants and men-servants, or the flocks, donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Only then did he lift up his eyes and see the women and children, and say, "Who are these with you?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant till Jacob told him. He took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
One writer turns this on us. We try the same thing with God:
Did we not each think — if not say — "I will appease him with the present"? He needs no appeasing, or turning of His heart towards us. He showed His feelings toward us in the gift of His Son. "God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him" … and "to be the propitiation for our sins." You do not need, in that sense, to appease Him. There is nothing in His heart towards you but love. We needed to be reconciled to God; not God to us. He always was and is for us. Because sin has come in, there must be propitiation. But propitiation is not there to turn God's heart towards us. It is needed to meet the righteous claims of His throne, so that He can let His heart flow out to us in grace, and accept us in righteousness.
The droves go over. The family goes over. Jacob is left by himself. That is when God moves:
Jacob had carried out all his contrivances, and was alone. So we read that "Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day." Here we see God's governmental dealing with His double-minded servant. Notice, Jacob was left ALONE, and then the wrestling began. It was not, as many say, Jacob wrestling with God to get a blessing by his persistent efforts. It is rather God wrestling with him, to teach Jacob that he is not so good and clever as he supposes himself to be.
- Conscience — Jacob's script calls him "Esau's servant" and Esau "my lord". That came from conscience and fear over supplanting his brother, not from God's word that the older would serve the younger.
- Contrivance — Jacob prayed, then went straight back to planning. Prayer added to our own management is worth no more than the management.
- Exposure — The droves showed the state of Jacob's heart more than they changed Esau's.
- Needless — Esau wept on his neck before he knew what the droves meant. God needs no appeasing either: He showed His heart in the gift of His Son.
- Alone — Every scheme had gone on ahead, and Jacob was left with nothing. Then God wrestled with him — not Jacob winning a blessing by effort.
-- then thou shalt say, Thy servant Jacob's it is a gift sent to my lord, to Esau. And behold, he also is behind us.
Jacob is heading home, and word has come that his brother Esau is riding toward him with four hundred men. Before that meeting he sends droves of livestock ahead. In this verse he drills his servants in the exact words they must say. Those words reveal far more about Jacob than about the cattle.
Jacob puts two titles into his servants' mouths. Both belong to a man who is not at ease.
"My lord," and "your servant," is not the language of a brother. Nor is it the language of someone who knows the dignity of standing in God's presence. It was the language of Jacob — Jacob with a bad conscience.
There is a further problem. God had already settled the order between these two brothers before either was born.
The servant was to tell Esau that the animals belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?). Jacob was giving them as a present to "my lord Esau." Jacob knew that the Lord had told Rebekah "the elder shall serve the younger" (Gen. 25:23). It is sad to see him take this place of undignified submission to Esau. Of course, both conscience and fear moved him, because he had taken Esau's place by trickery before.
Jacob had just prayed for deliverance. Then he went straight back to arranging droves and coaching servants. The two activities pull against each other.
True, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for deliverance. But as soon as he stops praying, he takes up the planning again. Now, praying and planning will never do together. If I plan, I am leaning more or less on my plan; but when I pray, I should lean only on God. So the two things do not go together. They destroy each other. When my eye is filled with my own management of things, I am not ready to see God acting for me.
Look at the staging: drove after drove, a gap between each, a speech for every driver. Jacob's arrangements give him away.
Unbelief and worldly strategy wrap themselves carefully in their own fears. They give themselves away by the very devices they fall back on, and by their style of action. … He has not enough confidence to be quiet in God's hand for protection and deliverance. … He gets no answer to his prayer, and follows his own plans with his goats and sheep, camels and donkeys. … Lower than this he cannot go. When he is at his wit's end, the Lord takes him in hand for gracious discipline.
Jacob's own stated reason for the gift was to soften Esau before he ever showed his face. That instinct, one writer says, runs far past Jacob.
So many people live under the delusion that they have something to do to win God over. What a mistake! "I will appease him with the present that goes before me, and afterward I will see his face. Perhaps he will accept me." Of course, if your present is what you stand on before God, you may well say "perhaps."
The same writer points to a gift moving the other way.
He needs no appeasing, no turning of His heart toward us. He showed His feelings toward us in the gift of His Son… You do not need, in that sense, to win Him over. His heart is toward you. There is nothing in His heart toward you but love. We needed to be reconciled to God; not God to us. He always was and is for us.
The rehearsed speech never did the work Jacob gave it.
See how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present! … But Esau had not even seen the women-servants and men-servants, or the flocks, donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, and said, Who are these?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. Then he took it not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
- Conscience talks. The titles Jacob scripts — "your servant," "my lord" — are not a brother's words. They are a guilty man's. They also reverse what God had said about the elder and the younger.
- Plans crowd out prayer. He prayed, then went back to managing. You cannot lean on a plan and lean on God at once.
- The scheme betrays the schemer. The droves, the spacing, the rehearsed lines show a man who lacks the confidence to stay quiet in God's hand.
- Gifts cannot buy welcome. What we bring can never make God favourable. It leaves us forever saying "perhaps." He needed no winning over, and He proved it by giving His Son.
- Grace arrived first. Esau wept on his brother's neck before he ever saw the present. Jacob tried to buy a welcome he already had.
And so commanded he the second, and the third, and all that followed the droves, saying, According to this word shall ye speak to Esau when ye find him.
Jacob is about to meet the brother he cheated, and his plan is wave after wave of livestock, every driver given the same words to say. Can a gift buy back a brother, and does a man God has promised to keep need a plan like this?
Verse 19 repeats the message first given to the driver of the first drove. Notice the title Jacob gives Esau, and the one he takes for himself:
He found out later that all his planning was completely unnecessary. He set aside 560 animals in all as a present for Esau, in about six droves, with some distance between each one. He told the driver of the first drove what to say to Esau when he met him. He expected Esau to ask who the man was and who owned the animals. The driver was to answer that they belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?), and that Jacob was sending them as a present to "my lord Esau." Jacob knew the Lord had told Rebekah that "the older shall serve the younger." So it is sad to see him take such a low, servant-like place before Esau. He had taken Esau's place years before, so both conscience and fear were at work in him.
Jacob had already prayed. But the droves in this verse come after that prayer, and the order is the problem:
Jacob's first thought was always a plan, and in this we have a true picture of the poor human heart. Yes, he turns to God after he makes his plan, and cries to Him for rescue. But the moment he stops praying, he starts planning again. Praying and planning will never work together. If I plan, I am leaning to some degree on my plan. When I pray, I should lean on God alone. So the two cannot go together; they destroy each other.
The staging itself is the evidence — drove after drove, spaced out, each with its own script:
Unbelief and scheming, wrapped up in their own fears, give themselves away by the very devices they fall back on, and by the way they go about things... How often the flesh shows itself to other people through the very cover-ups it works on its own owner! ... He gets no answer to his prayer, and follows his own plans with his goats and sheep, camels and donkeys. That is not all: he hands them over to his servants, each drove on its own, with a further order to "put a space between drove and drove," and he even arranges the words the messengers are to say.
The verb Jacob uses for what the present is meant to do is the same word the Old Testament uses for making atonement:
The blood of the atonement wipes out the record of sin and hides it from the eye of God... The word also means to appease or pacify. So Jacob sent a present to (atone for or) appease his brother Esau.
When the brothers met, the careful staging counted for nothing. Esau had his arms round Jacob's neck before he knew what the droves were for:
See how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present! Yet perhaps he takes the credit for the happy outcome... But Esau had not even seen the male and female servants, or the flocks, donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Only then did he lift up his eyes and see the women and children, and say, "Who are these with you?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him, and then he took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
One writer turns Jacob's plan on the reader. We try to appease God with a present too:
Did we not each think — if not say — "I will appease him with the present"? He needs no appeasing, or turning of the heart to us. His feelings toward us were shown in the gift of His Son. "God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him" ... and to be "the propitiation for our sins." You do not need, in that sense, to appease Him. His heart is towards you. There is nothing in His heart towards you but love. We needed to be reconciled to God; not God to us. He always was for us, and He still is.
- Fear scripts. Fear wrote the speech handed to every driver. The titles it chose — Esau as "my lord," Jacob as his servant — show conscience at work over an old wrong.
- Prayer sidelined. Jacob prayed, then went straight back to managing. Leaning on a plan and leaning on God cancel each other out.
- Plans expose. The devices a man reaches for show the trust he lacks, even when he mixes a real prayer in with them.
- Grace outran it. Esau embraced Jacob before he had seen a single animal, and received the droves not as the price of pardon but as a gift.
- God unbought. No present appeases God. He showed His heart by sending His Son — we needed reconciling to Him, not He to us.
And, moreover, ye shall say, Behold, thy servant Jacob is behind us. For he said, I will propitiate him with the gift that goes before me, and afterwards I will see his face perhaps he will accept me.
Jacob is heading home, and he is afraid of meeting his brother Esau. So he sends drove after drove of livestock ahead of him with a rehearsed message. His plan raises the question every reader has to answer: can favour be bought?
Jacob had just asked God to rescue him from Esau. What he says next shows where his trust really lay.
Jacob asked God to deliver him from his brother Esau. But he was not satisfied with that, so he tried to "appease him with a present." His confidence was in the "present," and not entirely in God. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick." It is often hard to detect what the heart is really resting on. We imagine, or would like to persuade ourselves, that we are leaning on God, when in reality we are leaning on some scheme of our own devising. … It will not do to make our prayers part of our management either. We often feel very satisfied with ourselves when we add prayer to our own arrangements. When that is the case, our prayers are worth about as much as our plans, because we are leaning on them instead of on God.
The same writer notes that Jacob only stopped managing when God touched him:
Up to this point he had held on to his own ways and means; but now he is brought to say, "I will not let you go." … If he had been looking to God alone to appease Esau, could he have said, "I will appease him with a present"? Impossible: God and the creature must be kept distinct.
The word behind "appease" carries a long history in Scripture.
The word atonement, which is the word found in the Old Testament, as propitiation is found in the New, means simply to cover. It is first used in Genesis 6:14: God told Noah to pitch (cover) the ark inside and out with pitch. It is used again in Genesis 32:20: Jacob said he would appease Esau with a present; his fault would be covered by the present. … The offering puts the offence out of sight. It gives the injured party something equal in value, and that covers the cause of the grievance.
The message calls Esau "my lord" and Jacob "your servant." That sits oddly with what God had already told Rebekah about her two sons.
He set apart 560 animals altogether as a present for Esau, in about six droves. He told the driver of the first drove what to say to Esau, expecting Esau to ask who he was and whose the animals were. In reply he was to tell Esau that they belonged to Esau's servant Jacob (why not Esau's brother?), and Jacob was giving them as a present to "my lord Esau." Since Jacob knew that the Lord had told Rebekah "the older shall serve the younger," it is sad to see him taking this place of unfitting subservience to Esau. Of course, because he had earlier supplanted Esau, he was moved by both conscience and fear.
When the meeting finally came, the droves played no part in it at all.
Just see how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present! … But Esau had not even seen the female servants and male servants, or flocks, and donkeys, and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, and said, Who are these?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. Then he took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
Many people still take Jacob's approach, only with God Himself in view.
Jacob's way of winning his brother is still a much approved and fashionable way when the question and the Person are far more important. "I may appease him with the present that goes ahead of me," he says, "and afterward I shall see his face. Perhaps he will accept me." And with these people, as with Jacob, acceptance is still a "perhaps." If your religion is of that sort, how can you know when you have done enough? Suppose it should not be exactly what you estimate it to be in God's sight.
The answer is not a better gift.
A man hung up by a hook through his back for hours in the blazing sun no doubt thinks he will appease God that way. He too is mistaken. … But you will never appease Him with presents. He does not want to be appeased. All He wants He has found in Christ, and all you need, sinner, you can find in Christ. And if you find Him you need not say, "Perhaps he will accept me," for "he has made us accepted in the beloved" is the blessing of every believer in Jesus.
- Fear. Conscience and fear over an old wrong drove Jacob to bow to Esau as "my lord" — the man God had said would serve him.
- Gift. He prayed, then went straight back to managing. The droves show where his confidence really lay.
- Cover. "Appease" is the Old Testament word for atonement. It means to cover: an offering hides the offence from sight.
- Perhaps. A bought pardon can never say more than "perhaps he will accept me." You never know when you have given enough.
- Accepted. Esau wept on Jacob's neck before he ever saw the herds. God does not want presents either; He has found all He wants in Christ.
And the gift went over before him; and he himself lodged that night in the camp.
Jacob sends his gift ahead to Esau and stays behind with his camp for the night. He has already prayed for God's help — so why does he still feel he must buy his brother's favour?
Jacob prays in this chapter. But one writer traces his fear back to a guilty conscience, and shows where his heart stayed even after the praying.
He was suffering the painful effects of a bad conscience about his brother. He knew he had treated Esau in a way sure to call out his anger and revenge, so he was uneasy at the thought of meeting him. But God had a controversy with Jacob. Jacob thought only of appeasing Esau by a present. True, he turns aside in this chapter to offer up confession and prayer, yet despite that, his own plans for appeasing Esau clearly filled his heart more than anything else. But God was looking at him in all this. He was preparing a healthy course of discipline for him, to teach him what was in his heart.
The gift was not a small gesture. One writer counts the animals:
Does praying satisfy him? No. He gets a present together. He collects no fewer than 580 head of cattle, puts them into droves, gives them into the charge of his servants, and sends them on to appease Esau.
Jacob sends the gift ahead because he believes he must soften Esau's face before he can meet it. One writer finds that same instinct in every sinner who wants to come near God.
How many labour under the delusion that they have something to do to propitiate God. What a mistake! Jacob says, "Perhaps he will accept me." Of course, if your present is the ground on which you appear before God, you may well say "perhaps." Can you appease Him with a present? Impossible! Yet that is the first thought in the heart of the sinner when he would draw near to God. He wants to appease Him.
When the droves reached Esau, they did not do the work Jacob designed them to do.
Just see how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present! Esau had not even seen the maidservants and menservants, or flocks, and donkeys, and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. As to the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. Then he took them not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
Jacob had left one thing out of his calculations.
He never thought of God's power over the hearts of all people. He never thought that God meant to over-rule Esau's resentment and fill his heart with warm, natural affection.
Everything Jacob owns and loves crosses the water. He does not.
He cannot yet trust everything to God. The fear of Esau lies so heavily on his soul that he sends everyone ahead of him over the brook — his beloved Rachel too. He sent his gift over, and stayed that night in the camp. But he could not rest.
God used the very arrangement that showed Jacob at his weakest.
He sent all — even wives and sons — over the brook at the ford Jabbok, and he was left alone, well to the rear. Not a very dignified or courageous move! Yet God was in all this. Being left alone, the moment had come for him to meet God Himself face to face, and to have an experience whose effect he would never lose.
Why did God wrestle with Jacob, and never with Abraham? One writer answers:
God has a controversy with the soul if it is not walking with Him. If I am walking up to the light I have, and not with a bad conscience, He has no controversy with me. You never hear of God wrestling with Abraham; he intercedes for others. It is God's dealing with a person who is not walking by faith in a simple, practical way.
- Prayed, then planned. Jacob's prayer was real, but his heart stayed busy with his own plans — and God saw it.
- The present. Jacob sent at least 580 animals ahead to soften the face he dreaded. He tried to buy what he could not trust God to give.
- Useless. Esau had already embraced and wept over his brother before he ever saw the droves, and received them as a blessing, not a price of pardon.
- Left behind. Sending everything over and staying with the camp was neither brave nor dignified. Yet it left Jacob where God wanted him: alone.
- Wrestled. God's controversy is with a believer who is not walking with Him — He never wrestled with Abraham. No present could touch what God was after: Jacob's heart.
And he rose up that night, and took his two wives, and his two maidservants, and his eleven sons, and passed over the ford of the Jabbok;
Jacob is about to meet Esau, the brother he had offended. He sends his whole household over the ford of the Jabbok and stays behind alone, on the bank where God will meet him.
Notice who crossed first and who crossed last:
He planned with real skill. But his faith was weak. And where was any generous, self-sacrificing love for his family? Everything bears the stamp of anxiety as well as cleverness, if not craft. This was his natural character. He was very much a man of God, yet God is not the one he keeps in view and depends on. He depends on his own human resources. Ill at ease, he sends over — I am sorry to say — himself last of all! What he valued most came latest. Jacob was not among the first! His flocks, herds and camels went first, wives and children next, Jacob last. He lined the groups up as a breakwater between the offended brother Esau and trembling Jacob.
There is a way of praying that still leaves us leaning on ourselves:
Nor will it do to make our prayers part of our management. We often feel very satisfied with ourselves when we add prayer to our arrangement. We feel the same when we have used every lawful means and then asked God to bless them. When this is the case, our prayers are worth about as much as our plans, because we are leaning on them instead of on God. God must truly bring us to the end of everything that self has anything to do with. Until then, He cannot show Himself. But we never reach the end of our plans until He has brought us to the end of ourselves.
The move that shows Jacob at his weakest is the move that puts him exactly where God wanted him:
All — even wives and sons — were sent over the brook at the ford Jabbok, and he was left alone, well to the rear. Not a very dignified or courageous way to act! Yet God was in all this. Now that he was alone, the moment had come for God to bring him face to face with Himself. It would give him an experience whose effect he would never lose. Up to this point his life had been mainly one of scheming against and wrestling with men. Now God, by His Messenger, was going to wrestle with him.
Now Jacob has nothing left to measure himself against but God:
This is a turning point in the history of this very remarkable man. Being left alone with God is the only true way to reach a right knowledge of ourselves and our ways. We can never get a true estimate of our nature and all it does until we have weighed it in the balance of the sanctuary. There we find out its real worth. It does not matter what we think about ourselves, or what others think about us. The great question is this: what does God think about us? We can hear the answer only when we are "left alone."
God does not deal with every believer this way:
"Jacob was left alone." God is wise, holy and loving in His dealings. Jacob was conscious that the Lord had blessed him, yet He must have Jacob discover where he was. No prosperity, no children could be any comfort to him if he did not have peace with God in practice. God has a controversy with the soul if it is not walking with Him. If I am walking up to the light I have, and not with a bad conscience, He has no controversy with me. You never hear of God wrestling with Abraham; he intercedes for others. This is God's dealing with a person who is not walking simply and practically by faith.
Who started the struggle that followed?
When Jacob was left alone, a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day — not Jacob with God, but God with Jacob. God wrestles with us: the flesh must be put to death. God can have no communion with the flesh.
- Alone by accident. Jacob sent flocks, servants, wives and children over the Jabbok as a breakwater against Esau. He came last — from fear, not courage.
- Alone by design. The fearful plan still served God's timing. Alone on the bank, Jacob had reached the moment God was waiting for.
- Alone is where self is measured. Away from everything, the only verdict left is God's verdict, and that is the one that counts.
- Alone because God had a controversy. God deals this way with a believer who is not walking simply by faith. He never wrestled with Abraham, who prayed for others.
- Alone with the stronger One. The struggle at the ford was God wrestling with Jacob, not Jacob wearing God down. The end of Jacob's own management was where God could show Himself.
and he took them and led them over the river, and led over what he had.
Genesis 32 finds Jacob on the night before he must face the brother he cheated. His answer to fear is organisation. Over the water go the droves of livestock, then the wives, children and servants, then everything else. The plan is careful, but it leaves Jacob himself on the near bank — and that is where God means to meet him.
The word behind "stream" names a particular kind of watercourse.
nachal, Genesis 32:23, and elsewhere — a mountain torrent, often dry in summer, and so often disappointing, as in Job 6:15. There are many such in Palestine. The same thing is called in the New Testament cheimarros, "winter flowing," in John 18:1. Its Eastern name is wady.
Jacob had already prayed. Then he spent the night arranging. One writer reads that restlessness as a sign of unbelief, not of faith.
Instead of remembering the promise and passing on in the quietness of faith, his soul, through unbelief, becomes deeply agitated. Instead of looking at God's host, he looks at Esau's host; he fears, and prays, and calculates, and settles everything according to man's best plan. Here was activity when all should have been stillness. And often it is unbelief that stirs up activity of spirit. There is such a thing as religious unbelief, praying unbelief. We have an instance of it here.
The order of the crossing shows where Jacob's confidence lay — and where he put himself in the line.
He is alarmed more than ever. He sets to work in his own way. He makes his plan and then he makes his prayer; but after all he is not at ease. He planned with considerable skill; his faith was feeble, and where was even generous self-sacrificing love for the family? It all bears the stamp of anxiety as well as cleverness, if not craft. This was his natural character; for though he was very much a man of God, still it is not God who is prominent to his eyes and leaned on, but his own human resources. Ill at ease, he sends over — I am sorry to say — himself last of all! His flocks, herds and camels went first, wives and children next, Jacob last. The bands in that order were meant to serve as a breakwater between the offended brother Esau and trembling Jacob.
The livestock sent ahead were a present meant to soften Esau. People carry that same instinct — buying peace with goods — into their dealings with God.
Jacob gave each driver in turn similar instructions, for he assumed that by this means he might soften any hostility in Esau (v. 20). This is the natural idea of human beings. They keep using this method in seeking any proper relationship with God, as though man could influence God by giving Him presents of things God created in the first place! But God is not looking for gifts from men. Rather, He desires their hearts.
Sending everything over left Jacob with nobody beside him. What looks like the low point of the story turns out to be its purpose.
He sent all — even wives and sons — over the brook at the ford of Jabbok, and he was left alone, well to the rear. Not a very dignified or courageous move! Yet God was in all this. Being left alone, the moment had come for him to meet God Himself face to face, so that he might have an experience whose effect he would never lose. Up to this point his life had mostly been one of scheming against men and wrestling with them. Now God, by His Messenger, was going to wrestle with him.
With the last of his possessions across the water, Jacob has nothing left to hide behind. And he is not alone with God only.
Jacob sends on his property, thinking the sight of defenceless wives and innocent children will move his brother's heart. And now we come to the crucial point in Jacob's history. We read, "And Jacob was left alone" — left alone with his guilty conscience, left alone with remorseful memories, left alone with God.
The night is usually told as Jacob's struggle. One writer turns that around, and marks where in Jacob's journey it falls.
Jacob must be alone with God. He was not yet at Bethel, but had a needed meeting in the dark meanwhile. It was not so much what men say — Jacob wrestling with God, true as that may be in its measure — but still more God wrestling with Jacob. Grace gave him perseverance and made him prevail, but in a way contrary to man's thoughts. It was not in any degree Jacob's goodness, wisdom and power, but God's faithful mercy.
- Fear. Jacob prays, then arranges. He sends livestock, servants, wives and children over the torrent ahead of him — activity where stillness was needed.
- Scheme. The gifts sent ahead are man's instinct to buy peace; God is not after presents but hearts.
- Order. The order exposes him: goods first, family next, Jacob himself last across the water.
- Alone. With everything on the far bank, he is left with his conscience, his memories, and God.
- Grace. The wrestling is God taking Jacob in hand. What carries him through is not his strength but God's faithful mercy.
And Jacob remained alone; and a man wrestled with him until the rising of the dawn.
Jacob has sent his family and everything he owns across the ford of the Jabbok. Tomorrow he must face the brother he cheated. Tonight a stranger takes hold of him in the dark. Who was wrestling with whom, and why did that night end in both a limp and a blessing?
His people, his flocks and his own careful plans have all gone on ahead. What is left behind is not an accident.
There is special force in the words, "Jacob was left alone." This is how it goes with everyone God has trained in His school. He brings them into the stillness and solitude of His own presence. There they look at themselves and their ways, and that is the only place where they can be seen truly. If Jacob had stayed among the bleating sheep and the lowing oxen, he could never have had the same calm, clear view of himself and his past.
The verse does not say Jacob wrestled with the man. It says a man wrestled with him — and commentators return to that word order again and again.
Many say this was Jacob wrestling with God to win a blessing by keeping at it. It was not. It was God wrestling with Jacob, to teach him that he is not as good and clever as he thinks he is. He was resisting God, and it took a mighty power to subdue him.
Read this way, the night is not a lesson in Jacob's persistence. It is a lesson in God's patience.
Taken as it stands, this passage gives no ground for the popular idea that it shows Jacob's power in prayer. Far from proving that, it proves how firmly he held on to the flesh and the things that belong to it. He held his "confidence in the flesh" so tightly that the struggle went on all night long... Instead of Jacob's patience and perseverance in prayer, we see God's patience with a man whose old self had to be crushed into the dust before God could make anything of him.
The account calls Him simply "a man," and that is how He first appeared to Jacob.
"A man wrestled with him" — that is the record, and no doubt at the start of this incident the unknown Stranger was to Jacob only a man. Who was Jacob to give way to another man? So it stirred him to fight back. The Stranger tried to break him down, and Jacob resisted until daybreak. Then the Stranger showed He was more than a man: one powerful touch crippled Jacob at his strongest point.
One writer settles what kind of night this was, and who the Stranger was.
The night at Jabbok was not a dream or a vision. It really happened. It is often said that Jacob wrestled with the Lord who came to him that night. It is the other way round: the Lord wrestled with Jacob. On that memorable night He appeared as Jacob's enemy and opponent. Jacob uses the same fleshly weapons he had used against God in the past; he meets Him in his own natural strength.
The touch that put his hip out of joint did not end the struggle. It changed it.
Jacob kept wrestling until the hollow of his thigh was touched and out of joint. He could then no longer wrestle, but he could cling, and he did... If we cling to someone, it implies that we trust his strength; if we wrestle, it shows we have confidence in our own. Are we clinging or wrestling? Weakness clings, strength wrestles.
The night has two halves, and they run in opposite directions.
What gave Jacob "power with God and with man" was the full sense of his own nothingness... First, Jacob's strength in the flesh, and God weakening him; then his weakness in the flesh, and God strengthening him. That is the great lesson of the scene. Jacob was content to go limping on his journey, since he had learned the secret of true strength.
Jacob got his blessing, but the Stranger would not tell him His name. One writer traces that back to how Jacob had been living.
If He is going to bless, He must give Jacob a lasting discovery of what he is, and Jacob carries it with him ever after. It was grace and mercy... He came to give blessing, but He does not reveal Himself; and that is the effect of not walking with God. He had been limping in his walk with God, and now God makes him limp in his body.
- Alone — the flocks, the family and Jacob's own plans crossed the brook first. God deals with a man where nothing else can distract or shield him.
- Wrestled — God is the one attacking, not Jacob. Nobody is talking Him into blessing. He is clearing away what blocks it.
- Crippled — the touch on the hip fell on the seat of Jacob's strength; God weakens before He strengthens.
- Clinging — when he could no longer wrestle, he could still hold on. Holding on admits that the strength is not ours.
- Blessed — Jacob left that night limping, and content to limp. The mark of his weakness became the proof of his new strength.
And when he saw that he did not prevail against him, he touched the joint of his thigh; and the joint of Jacob's thigh was dislocated as he wrestled with him.
Jacob is alone at night, waiting to face the brother he cheated, when a stranger takes hold of him. They struggle until dawn. The verse turns on one touch. That single moment ends the fight and marks Jacob for life.
The scene is often read as a picture of a determined man storming heaven. Commentators read the grammar the other way round. Who is holding whom changes the whole meaning.
"Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him." Notice, it was not Jacob wrestling with a man, but a man wrestling with Jacob. This scene is very commonly referred to as an instance of Jacob's power in prayer. That it is not this is clear from the simple wording of the passage. My wrestling with a man, and a man wrestling with me, present two totally different ideas to the mind. In the first case I want to gain something from him; in the second, he wants to gain something from me. Now, in Jacob's case, the divine object was to bring him to see what a poor, feeble, worthless creature he was, and when Jacob held out so stubbornly against God's dealing with him, God touched his hip socket and put it out of joint. The sentence of death must be written on the flesh. We must know the power of the cross before we can walk with God steadily and happily.
The verse says the man did not prevail against Jacob — a strange thing to say of God. One writer finds grace in it.
God, as a man, meets him and wrestles with him. He had been wrestling with him all his life, but now it was face to face. God stooped to say, "Let me go, for the day is breaking," and then He put it into Jacob's heart to say, "I will not let you go unless you bless me." It is the very thing God was waiting to hear... So here with Jacob: God wanted him to prevail so that He might bless him. This is the way His grace works. And He gives him a new name. We read that the lesser is blessed by the greater. The Greater here is the One who "did not prevail against him." Wonderful! The One who blesses is the one who did not prevail, and the poor man who as a prince had power with God and had prevailed is made lame for life.
Commentators name the wrestler differently. One says God met Jacob face to face as a man; another speaks of the angel.
The wrestler waits until dawn to use the one move that settles it. That delay is deliberate. Older translations call the hip socket "the hollow of his thigh."
Finally, because Jacob continued to struggle, the Lord simply "touched the hollow of his thigh," putting it out of joint (v. 25). He could have done this earlier, but He had given Jacob a chance to submit without any drastic action. Usually, though, we need some hard measures before we learn to truly submit to God.
The target chosen is not random. It is the exact place that decides a wrestling match.
At last the angel put forth a little more power, for he wrestled as man meets man, and crippled Jacob in the thigh. The thigh is a vulnerable point in the wrestler. When the thigh is out of joint, a man is not able to wrestle any more.
Once the hip goes, Jacob cannot fight — but he does not let go. One writer makes that shift the test of every believer.
It is not now God wrestling with Jacob, but Jacob clinging to God; and this is what it ought to be with all of us. If we cling to another, it implies that we trust in his strength; if we wrestle, it shows that we have confidence in our own. Are we clinging or wrestling? Weakness clings, strength wrestles.
The injury never heals. Jacob walks with a limp for the rest of his days.
He touches the hollow of Jacob's thigh. The Lord breaks him down. If He is to bless, He must give Jacob a lasting discovery of what he is, and Jacob carries it with him all along. It was grace and mercy. He was a limping Jacob all through, because he was limping in his walk with God... He had been limping morally, and God makes him limp in his body.
The same writer compares Jacob before the touch with Jacob after it.
It was his weakness that prevailed, not his strength... It was not the strong Jacob of verse 24, but the weak Jacob of verse 25, that prevailed.
- Direction. Read the sentence carefully: a man wrestles with Jacob, not Jacob with a man. God is the one seeking something here.
- Delay. The touch could have come at any hour. God gave Jacob a whole night to yield before taking the harder route.
- Touch. One touch on the hip socket ends a night of straining. The thigh is where a wrestler's strength lives.
- Cling. A man who cannot wrestle can still hold on. Wrestling trusts our strength; clinging trusts His.
- Limp. Jacob had been limping morally for years. Now he limps for all to see — the lasting mark that his weakness, not his strength, prevailed.
And he said, Let me go, for the dawn ariseth. And he said, I will not let thee go except thou bless me.
Jacob is alone at night, and a man wrestles with him until daybreak. A single touch has just thrown his hip out of joint. He speaks the words of this verse as a crippled man, and commentators read his demand in more than one way.
Jacob had spent his life arranging outcomes. One writer points to the exact moment his words changed.
This was a new era in the history of the supplanting, planning Jacob. Up to this point he had held on to his own ways and means. But now God brings him to say, "I will not let you go." Notice, reader, that Jacob did not speak like this until "the hollow of his thigh was touched." That simple fact is enough to settle the true meaning of the whole scene. God was wrestling with Jacob to bring him to this point.
"Let me go" sounds like a wish to escape. One writer reads it as an opening left for Jacob.
The Lord had made Jacob unfit to wrestle any more, but Jacob was still clinging to Him. The Lord told him, "Let me go, for the day has broken." He could have left at once. Instead He gave Jacob the chance to say what he did: "I will not let You go unless You bless me" (v. 26). At least Jacob's faith was real, though it was weak.
The scene changes direction at this verse. The grip is still there, but it now means the opposite of what it meant before.
It is not now God wrestling with Jacob, but Jacob clinging to God; and this is what it ought to be with all of us. If we cling to another, it implies that we trust in his strength; if we wrestle, it shows that we have confidence in our own. Are we clinging or wrestling? Weakness clings, strength wrestles. … It is one thing for God to lay hold of us, and quite another for us to lay hold of Him. Only a person who feels his own weakness knows how to do that.
Jacob asks his blessing from the very person who has just injured him. The writer turns that into an appeal to the reader.
He finds his joint is out, and he clings to the One who has crippled him. Friend! Cling to the mighty One. Cling to the One who brings you down and reduces you. It is blessing to cling to Him. It is sorrow to oppose Him.
The change in Jacob is not only in his body. One writer describes what now fills his mind.
It is no longer his own ability that fills Jacob's mind, but the resources of God. What a vast change! He now takes the place of a receiver instead of a planner. He draws his blessings from another, knowing he has nothing in himself to draw on.
Scripture looks back at this night later, and the picture is not one of muscle.
At the very time the sinew of his thigh was shrunk, God strengthened him to prevail with the angel. He gained the name that pledges the blessing of grace, and every victory, to the descendants of Abraham. "Yes, he had power over the angel, and prevailed: he wept, and made supplication to him." What! The man who cowered and wept for fear of Esau? That same man, on that very occasion, learns that grace is enough. He finds this strength made perfect in his weakness.
Jacob gets the blessing he asks for. He does not get everything he wants.
He says, "I will not let You go unless You bless me." It was right in its place. But it was not happy fellowship; it was forcing blessing out of God, as it were. He will not tell Jacob His name. Faith won the blessing, but God did not reveal Himself… He came to give blessing, but He does not reveal Himself. That is the effect of not walking with God.
Commentators differ over Jacob's tone here. Most hear faith holding on; one writer hears bargaining.
"He said, Let me go, for the day has broken": the most critical moment has arrived. Will Jacob answer to it? No! … Jacob dares to argue with the Lord, and to make terms with Him. At first he had made God's glory depend on his blessing, and now he would stake his blessing on his strength.
- Touched — Jacob speaks these words only after the touch that put his thigh out of joint. That order settles the meaning of the scene.
- Clinging — the grip changes meaning: wrestling trusts my strength, clinging trusts His. Weakness clings.
- Receiving — the planner stops planning and takes his blessing as a gift from another.
- Prevailing — Scripture describes the victory as weeping and pleading, strength made perfect in weakness.
- Limited — he leaves with the blessing and a new name, but God does not tell him His own name.
And he said to him, What is thy name? And he said, Jacob.
The question comes at the end of a long night of struggle, and God asks for something He already knows — the name of the man clinging to Him. Everything that follows turns on the one word he answers.
God is not gathering information. He is drawing the truth out of Jacob's own mouth.
Now when Jacob clings, God says to him, "What is your name?" That was a very, very sore point with Jacob. The name Jacob means plunderer, cheat, double-dealer, intriguer — anything but what is decent and nice. A flush of shame, no doubt, spread over Jacob's face as he made his confession. What did he say? One word, only one: "JACOB." It was enough. Scripture says, "And He blessed him there." The place of blessing is the low place of confession.
To say "Jacob" was to admit a whole life, not just give a name.
Jacob's natural character was thoroughly unlovely. His name itself expressed what he was — "a supplanter." He began his life by acting out this trait. Until he was completely crushed, as in these verses, he lived by pure bargain-making. On leaving his father's house he makes a bargain with God.
Jacob answers this question only after his thigh has been put out of joint. The change in his body changed the way he held on to God.
Jacob kept wrestling until the hollow of his thigh was touched and out of joint. He could no longer wrestle, but he could cling, and he did. It is no longer God wrestling with Jacob, but Jacob clinging to God; and this is what it ought to be with all of us. If we cling to another, it implies that we trust in his strength; if we wrestle, it shows that we have confidence in our own. Are we clinging or wrestling? Weakness clings, strength wrestles.
The dislocated thigh and the spoken name teach different things, and the blessing waits for both.
There must be the fullest confession if we want the blessing. If God is not to hold anything back from us, we must keep nothing back from Him. He confessed he was Jacob. He confessed, in effect, "I am the supplanter." Here he learns two lessons, and we must learn them too: his weakness and his sinfulness. His weakness was shown by his thigh out of joint, and his sinfulness in that he was a supplanter. And now that these two lessons have been learnt, God can come in and say to him, "Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel."
The answer he gives is the last word of the old life, and the reply he receives is the first word of the new. (The older translation the writers quote renders verse 28 "as a prince you have power with God"; the ESV has "you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.")
And now the nameless man says to the helpless cripple, "What is your name?" And he said, "Jacob," which means a supplanter — a sorry name, that: supplanter! What is our common name? Sinner! That is my name, in nature. Now hear the gospel of that moment: "Your name shall no longer be called Jacob (supplanter), but Israel (a prince of God)." You are a prince, says God to him. You have lost your own strength and your old name, and now you are clinging to Me, and you are strong.
Jacob owns what he is and receives a new name. When he asks the same question back, he gets no answer.
God calls Jacob to speak out his name, to own that his name is "Jacob," or supplanter. Yet he still receives no revelation of the name of the One who had been wrestling with him and bringing him down into the dust... The Lord refuses to tell His name, though He had drawn out from Jacob the truth about himself, and He blesses him accordingly. How often this is the case among God's family! Self is uncovered in all its moral ugliness. Yet in practice we fail to lay hold of what God is, though He has come so very close to us, and blessed us too in connection with our discovery of ourselves.
One writer contrasts this night with a later meeting, where God gives everything of Himself unasked.
It is all coming from God — God speaking freely and fully, not His saying, "What is your name?"... He is now taking it into His own hands and giving it of Himself. It is not Jacob wrestling for the blessing; and he does not even have to ask God His name. He says, "I am God Almighty."
- Name — "Jacob" meant supplanter, and it fit him. God asks for the word so Jacob says out loud what he is.
- Weakness — the question comes after his thigh is out of joint. Weakness clings, strength wrestles.
- Confession — he owns two things at once, his weakness and his sinfulness. The blessing waits for both.
- Exchange — he loses his old strength and his old name together, and God gives him Israel in their place.
- Limit — he learns his own name, but God withholds His own. Being blessed and knowing God are not the same thing. God reveals Himself later, of His own accord.
And he said, Thy name shall not henceforth be called Jacob, but Israel; for thou hast wrestled with God, and with men, and hast prevailed.
Genesis 32 ends a long night by a river, where a man wrestles Jacob to the ground and leaves him limping. Jacob had schemed for blessing all his life, and now God gives him a new name and tells him he has prevailed — the question is how.
The scene is often read as Jacob fighting to get something out of God. Commentators read it the other way round: God came to break Jacob's trust in his own strength.
It is worth noting, though others have often noticed it, that Jacob's wrestling with the man is not to his honour. It was in fact the man, or God Himself, who wrestled with him. There was still a good deal in him that God had a controversy with, for Jacob's good, and not without his humiliation. In short, God was dealing with His servant. He was putting down his dependence on his own strength, devices and resources in every possible way. So, as the symbol of this, God touched the known sign of man's strength, and it shrank.
The new name comes only after Jacob answers the question "What is your name?" The order matters.
It was when he clung to the One who had defeated him, and admitted that his name was Jacob — meaning Supplanter — that God changed his name to Israel, meaning Prince of God. He was told that he had power not only with men but with God, and that he had prevailed. By changing his name God claimed Jacob as belonging now to Him.
The name he confessed was an accurate summary of his past. The name he received described nothing he had produced.
Take the history of Jacob. Without going into details, how well he deserved his name! Jacob — meaning the schemer, the supplanter, the cheat, the robber of his brother's birthright, the man who outwitted Laban over the cattle — and yet, out of such material, God could produce an Israel, "a prince … power with God and with men."
The verse joins two things: power with God and power with men. Older translations render it "as a prince you have power with God and with men," and writers ask where such power comes from.
And is not what follows interesting? He adds, "You have power with God and with men." You can have no power — divine power — except as you get it from God. Natural power — what use is that? It is a feeble, worthless thing. But you have no divine power with man unless you have power with God. And this is exactly the point for us. Look at the difficulties that trouble us on every side. Why can't we meet them? It is because we have no power with God. And how do I get power with God? It is when I am a poor crippled thing lying at His feet.
"Prevailed" cannot mean Jacob overpowered God. The moment God spoke the word explains it.
God said of Jacob that he would be named Israel because he had "striven with God and with men, and have prevailed." That does not mean he had defeated God in wrestling. He prevailed only when he was crippled, and so clung to the Lord in dependence. This dependence on God would enable him to prevail with men too. The same will prove true in the future day for the nation Israel. And it proves true for every believer today whom God has brought low to that place of clinging to Him in dependence.
Jacob asks God for His name and does not get it. Writers read that refusal as a real limit on what this night achieved.
Jacob is made to feel his weakness; he limps for the rest of his life. How many people go on limping all their days! In this way they keep a reminder that the flesh ought to have been humbled — and a reminder of the path of victory too. … But God did not reveal His name to Jacob, though he asked after it. He was not yet allowed the communion in the revelation of El Shaddai that he later enjoyed. There was faith, but not fellowship; the blessing of God, but His name withheld.
The new name did not make Jacob a new man overnight. The chapters after Peniel, the place where God met him, show it plainly.
At Peniel God meets him (His face hidden) to make him learn the strength that is perfected only in weakness. With his thigh out of joint he prevails and is blessed. The secret of strength is learned, and yet, strange as it may seem, the power he has with God he cannot yet find before man. He meets Esau with cringing servility… No part of his history is so dark and shameful as the part that follows this scene — and the words spoken in it are God's own: "as a prince he has power with God and with men, and prevails."
- God begins. Jacob did not start the wrestling. God came to end a man's reliance on his own strength, devices and resources.
- Weakness qualifies. The hip was touched, and only then could Jacob prevail — power with God is found "lying at His feet," crippled.
- Confession unlocks. He had to say "Jacob," the supplanter, before he could be called Israel. By changing the name, God claimed the man as His own.
- The reach widens. Power with God comes first; power with men follows from it, and never the other way round.
- The night was not the dawn. God blessed him but kept His own name back — faith without fellowship. The dark chapters that follow show a lesson learned long before it was lived.
And Jacob asked and said, Tell [me], I pray thee, thy name. And he said, How is it that thou askest after my name? And he blessed him there.
All night a stranger has wrestled Jacob and given him a new name. Now Jacob asks who the stranger is, and gets no name — only a question, and then the blessing he had chased since his youth.
One writer names the wrestler, and finds the same question asked again later in Scripture:
No doubt the mysterious wrestler was Christ — Jehovah. He would not tell His name. In those early days the system of Judaism, with its pictures of what was coming, had not yet been set up — let alone Christianity, where those pictures are fulfilled. Yet He still blessed Jacob. A little later, an angel foretold the birth of Samson to Manoah and his wife. Manoah asked the angel, "What is your name?" The angel replied, "Why do you ask my name, seeing it is secret" — or, as the margin of our Bible reads, "seeing it is wonderful." The truth comes out more fully there than in Genesis. "Wonderful" is just the word for Christ.
Older Bibles read "secret" in that answer to Manoah, with "wonderful" only in the margin. The ESV puts "wonderful" straight into the text.
Elsewhere Scripture calls this wrestler an angel. One writer shows what Jacob himself called Him:
Do you not know that Hosea says Jacob wrestled with the angel and prevailed? Yet Jacob called the place Peniel, because he had seen God face to face. And God had called his name Israel, a prince with God, because he had wrestled with God and with man and had prevailed.
Jacob comes away with a new name, a limp, and an unanswered question:
God makes Jacob feel his weakness; he limps all his life… As a prince he learns that he has power with God and with men, and had prevailed. His name was to be no more Jacob, the supplanter, but Israel, a prince of God. But God did not reveal His name to Jacob, though he asked after it. He did not yet have the fellowship he enjoyed later, when God made Himself known as El Shaddai. There was faith, but not fellowship; the blessing of God, but His name withheld.
The meeting began in the dark, and the visitor was gone by daylight:
God had indeed met Jacob, but He met him by night and not by day. When the day broke He had disappeared. In the same way, He blessed him in the end, yet He refused to tell His name at Jacob's request. Unknown He had come and unknown He departed.
The silence is not a refusal forever. It has to do with where Jacob was standing:
Jacob wanted to know the name of his opponent in the wrestling. The only answer he gets is a question: "Why is it that you ask my name?" Jacob would not learn that name properly until he was in the place of God's name, that is, Bethel, "the house of God." It is only in God's way that we really know God Himself. Jacob had begun the trip back to Bethel, but he was not there. Yet the Lord blessed him where he was.
Jacob had gone after this blessing before, and by the wrong route:
It was a case of seeking a right thing in a wrong way. He did not get the blessing then. Later he did get it from his father, but he only got it from God when he was afterwards brought face to face with Him.
The turning point was not harder effort but the end of it:
Then at once Jacob's attitude changed. Wrestling was now impossible for him, so instead he clung to his Conqueror. He stopped striving and took to trusting. He realised that the One who had overcome him had done so for his blessing, and that he was standing in the presence of God. The Stranger did not reveal His Name, but He gave Jacob the blessing he had wanted since his youth, then and there.
Commentators differ on how much Jacob understood that night. One writer reads the blessing itself as God showing Jacob who He was:
In blessing Jacob, the Lord shows Jacob who He was. Jacob himself says, "I have seen God face to face." What a wonderful secret for Jacob to carry with him through life! He had wanted to know the Name of the One who wrestled with him, and discovered that it was the Lord Himself.
- Weakness — Jacob stops wrestling only when his strength is gone; the limp is what makes clinging possible.
- Clinging — the blessing comes to the man who trusts his Conqueror, not to the man who outsmarts Him.
- Withheld — God gives the new name but keeps back His own; blessing comes without full fellowship.
- Bethel — the name waits for God's house, because we know God in God's way, not on demand.
- There — God blesses Jacob where he is, short of Bethel, and Jacob walks away knowing he has seen God face to face.
And Jacob called the name of the place Peniel -- For I have seen God face to face, and my life has been preserved.
Jacob has just come through a night of wrestling with a stranger. Now he names the place. The name says who he believes he was fighting. The reason he gives says he is amazed to be alive.
Jacob had once called the house of God a dreadful place. One writer reads the new name as his own summary of the night, and of how it ended:
By naming the place Peniel — "The face of God" — Jacob showed how deeply he felt that God had brought him face to face with Himself. The outcome was that he was preserved, not destroyed. Here was good reason for him to change his earlier thought that the house of God and the gate of heaven was a "dreadful" place.
Jacob says he saw God. Commentators place this among the Old Testament appearances where God showed Himself under a covering:
In earlier days the Son of God showed Himself, sometimes in veiled glory, sometimes in unveiled glory. To Abraham at the tent door, to Jacob at Peniel, to Joshua at the walls of Jericho, to Gideon and to Manoah, He came veiled. Faith, with more or less strength, through the Spirit, took the covering away and reached the glory underneath.
Jacob's shock is not that he met God, but that meeting God did not finish him. The writers quote the older wording, "my life is preserved"; the ESV reads "my life has been delivered." One writer turns that on every reader:
Jacob — the sinner — had seen God face to face, the One who cannot look on sin, and yet his life was preserved. Jacob is not the only person who must meet God. Every single one of you must meet God one day, sooner or later.
Two writers hear Jacob's words as thin rather than triumphant. Set beside what God told Abraham, his report is bare:
Even after God wrestled with him and enabled him to wrestle with God for His blessing, it was still far short of God's mind. How poor that he could say no more than "I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved!" God "talked with" His friend Abraham. He revealed His Name as the Almighty. He promised by covenant to make him the father of many nations, with things still to come from Him. He told him what He was going to do to the guilty cities of the plain, and so drew out his pleading for righteous Lot.
The proof, another writer says, is the fear that still gripped Jacob when he met his brother:
How often we misread the meaning of something that has been (as Peniel was to Jacob) of the greatest real importance to our souls! If he had truly seen God "face to face," how could he have added, as the wonderful thing, "and my life is preserved"? Everyone who has seen God's face has found in it deliverance from self-occupation and from fear — the fear that controlled Jacob when he met his brother.
The night left Jacob with a hip out of joint. One writer calls that a bargain:
Jacob wrestled with the angel, and the socket of his hip was put out of joint. This was sad. But God turned it to good, for there he saw God's face, and there the Lord blessed him. Who would not be willing to have a bone put out of joint, if it meant seeing God?
Another writer finds a Peniel wherever a believer comes to judge himself truly before God:
Nothing gives the failing, weak believer such confidence in the faithfulness and grace of God as coming to a true judgment of self in God's presence. Here the soul reaches its Peniel and can say, "I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved." After that, no failure can completely discourage the one who has been through it.
Jacob's word was "preserved" — he survived. One writer sets Christian ground higher:
These were precious combinations in Jacob's experience. They mean still more to us who remember the deeper truth of death at the cross. There we count "the old man crucified," and we know in reality that we are "alive to God through Jesus Christ" (not that life is preserved). And we see God face to face in our risen and ascended Lord: "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." This is our Penuel.
- Face — Peniel means "the face of God"; Jacob named a place after the One who had just crippled and blessed him.
- Veiled — God met him under a covering. Faith had to see through it, as at other Old Testament appearances.
- Preserved — the wonder is the survival. A sinner met the God who cannot look on sin, and lived.
- Poor — writers judge his words thin. He won a blessing, far less than God gave Abraham, and he still met his brother in fear.
- Ours — a hip out of joint was a small price for a sight of God. What Jacob glimpsed in the dark now shines in the face of Jesus Christ.
And as he passed over Peniel, the sun rose upon him; and he limped upon his hip.
Jacob's long night by the Jabbok ends here: he walks away with a new name, a permanent injury, and the sun on his face. Daybreak and a limp arrive together here. Commentators see in that pairing a pattern for the believer's life.
One writer sets this sunrise beside the sunset that opened Jacob's journey, when he left Beersheba.
As he passed over Peniel, we read that "the sun rose upon him." This stands in designed contrast to Genesis 28:11, when he had left Beersheba and "the sun had set." The night of darkness in our lives passes only when the flesh has been crippled (or judged) and we learn to cling only to the Lord. The sun (a picture of the Lord Jesus) rises on our vision in a living, practical way. But Jacob remains crippled.
Jacob does not grow strong and then step into the light. He steps into it already weakened.
It is a good thing if we are weakened in our natural thoughts and desires, and brought into the shining of the light of Christ from heaven! Jacob limps out, a weakened man in himself, but he is in the shining of Christ.
The wrestling ended, but the injury stayed, and one writer reads God's intention in that.
From then on Jacob limped on his thigh. God wanted him to learn this lesson for good: His strength shows itself in human weakness. So the sun rose on his limping as he passed Penuel.
Another writer presses the timing: it was not only in the dark that Jacob felt it.
When the sun rises Jacob still limps on his thigh. That is, the night is past, the darkness is over, the wrestling is ended. This point is most important. He did not only limp while the wrestling was going on. When it was all over, and the day was at its height, Jacob knew he was a crippled man.
Jacob still had to face Esau, and now he would face him unable to run or fight.
We must always keep in the place of weakness, for it is the place of power... Jacob had gained the victory through his dislocated thigh. He limped on his thigh; still, he had prevailed. "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." He had to meet Esau now with a shrunken sinew. But it taught him not to trust in his own natural strength, but in the One who had weakened him and made him strong.
The limp became a family likeness, not a disgrace. One writer links it to Paul's words about bearing marks in his body.
The Israel of God have always carried weakness in themselves, like Jacob limping along, with the sentence of death written in their flesh. So the apostle goes on to say: "From now on let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus." So Jacob too bore on his body the marks of the Lord Jesus. He was not at all ashamed of them. They were the marks of Jacob's weakness, but they were also the marks of Israel's strength.
This weakness is what Scripture later remembers of him.
This limping of his is the only instance of his faith that Hebrews mentions. It records the man's feebleness: "He worshipped, leaning on the top of his staff."
The writer quotes an older translation of Hebrews 11:21.
The place name carries its own meaning, and one writer reads Jacob's daybreak as a picture of his descendants' future.
Jacob wrestled with the unnamed One until daybreak at Peniel, which means "before the face of God." There he received the name Israel, "a prince of God." Weakened, yet he prevailed, and the sun rose upon him as a prince of God. Jacob's night of wrestling pictured the nation's history in advance... Like Jacob, they will come out of their long night of wrestling, and the sun will rise upon them. Their Messiah, Christ, will give them light. He will arise as the Sun of Righteousness, gladdening them with His healing and health-giving beams.
- Night — Jacob's journey began at sunset when he left Beersheba; here God ends the night, but only after crippling the flesh.
- Wound — the hip does not heal at daybreak. The limp stays so Jacob learns for good that God's strength shows in human weakness.
- Morning — the sun rises on a weakened man, and the same sunrise waits for Israel, when Christ rises for them as the Sun of Righteousness.
- Power — he faces Esau with a shrunken sinew, leaning on the One who weakened him. The place of weakness is the place of power.
- Mark — the limp is the family likeness of God's people. It is also the one thing Hebrews recalls of Jacob's faith: a man worshipping, leaning on his staff.
Therefore the children of Israel do not eat of the sinew that is over the joint of the thigh, to this day; because he touched the joint of Jacob's thigh -- the sinew.
This verse explains a food custom: Israel will not eat one sinew from the thigh. The custom goes back to the night a man wrestled with Jacob and left his hip out of joint — and it asks why a whole nation would keep one man's injury in memory.
Jacob's own strength was what stood in the way. So God touched the hip socket — "the hollow of the thigh" in older wording.
He can do it in many ways. He can do it through those close to us. He can do it by sorrow. He can do it by bereavement. He can do it by sickness. But He will do it. And in this second time alone, Jacob is blessed as the Israel of God — as a crippled man. He touches the hollow of his thigh, and it shrinks. Oh, the hollow of that thigh! It is the energy of the man, it is the strength of the man, that hinders. When that is gone, He gives him the blessing as the Israel of God.
The story says a man wrestled with Jacob, not Jacob with a man. One writer shows how much hangs on that order.
Note, it was not Jacob wrestling with a man, but a man wrestling with Jacob. People often point to this scene as an example of Jacob's power in prayer. The simple wording of the passage shows that it is not. My wrestling with a man, and a man wrestling with me, are two completely different ideas. In the first case I want to gain something from him; in the second, he wants to gain something from me. Now in Jacob's case God's object was to bring him to see what a poor, feeble, worthless creature he was. Jacob held out so stubbornly against God's dealing with him that "he touched his hip socket, and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him." Only when he was left alone did Jacob see how helpless he was in himself. Then, with the seat of his strength touched, he learned to say, "I will not let you go."
The limp was for life. One writer wishes Israel had read what it meant.
From then on Jacob limped on his thigh. God wanted him to learn for good the lesson of His strength shown in human weakness. So the sun rose on his limping as he passed Penuel. And that is why the people of Israel do not eat the sinew that shrank, on the hollow of the thigh, to this day. If only they would read its meaning in the light! Instead they try to establish their own righteousness and refuse to submit to His righteousness. And Jews are not the only ones who need to learn this great truth.
Israel's children keep the custom because they identify with the man it happened to. One writer turns that into a question for the reader.
They remember the day of his wrestling, and they identify with him as "Israel." So they do not eat the sinew that shrank, on the hollow of the thigh, "to this day." Do we keep up this refusal of the flesh as they did?... The Spirit says of us, "Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires." (Galatians 5:24.) Neither Israel nor we eat the sinew that shrank.
Jacob still had to meet Esau, and now with a damaged hip. One writer calls that weakness the place of power.
We must always stay in the place of weakness, for it is the place of power... Jacob had gained the victory through his disjointed thigh. He limped on his thigh; yet he had prevailed. "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." He had to meet Esau now with a shrunken sinew. But it taught him to stop trusting his own natural strength, and to trust the One who had weakened him and made him strong.
The limp did not deal with what was wrong inside Jacob. One writer lines up the ways God has dealt with the flesh, and points past them all.
Jacob might "limp on his thigh" all the days of his life. Paul might come back from paradise with "a thorn in the flesh," a messenger of Satan to harass him, so that he would not become conceited. But the flesh in each was flesh still. Thank God, at the cross of Christ God took far more severe and final measures than the sinew, the law, the sifting of Peter, or the thorn. There He truly set us free from the power of the flesh.
- Touched. God went for the hip socket — the seat of Jacob's own energy. That strength stood in the way of the blessing.
- Crippled. Jacob limped for life. God wanted the lesson of His strength in human weakness to last.
- Clinging. He met Esau with a shrunken sinew and prevailed, because he now leaned on the One who had weakened him.
- Commemorated. Israel refuses that one sinew, identifying with Jacob's night. The custom asks us whether we still refuse the flesh.
- Cross. The limp taught Jacob but did not cure him. Writers point past the sinew, the law and the thorn to the cross, where the real deliverance came.
And Jacob lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, Esau was coming, and with him four hundred men. And he distributed the children to Leah, and to Rachel, and to the two maidservants
Jacob has just wrestled all night at Peniel and come away with a new name, Israel. Now he looks up and sees the brother he wronged coming toward him with four hundred men. What he does next — sorting wives and children into ranks — shows whether that night changed him.
The order Jacob puts his family in shows what he expected. He came away from that night limping, and still the planning goes on.
Here we may see how groundless all Jacob's fears were, and how useless all his plans. Despite the wrestling, the touch to his thigh, and the limp, we find Jacob still planning… This arrangement proved that his fears continued. He still expected vengeance from Esau's hand, and he put those he cared least about in the way of the first blow. How amazing the depths of the human heart are! How slow it is to trust God! If Jacob had truly been leaning on God, he could never have expected destruction for himself and his family.
Jacob looks up, and at once starts planning for either outcome. God is at work behind what he sees.
The bringing of Jacob into communion with God was not yet complete… He lifted up his eyes and looked. But God was greater than his fears, though he still planned the best he could, whether Esau came as a friend or as an enemy. Here Jacob hardly walks by faith; he walks by sight. But God was faithful in His providence.
Everything Jacob braced for failed to happen. The four hundred men brought no sword with them.
But notice now how empty the heart's anxiety was. "But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept." The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God calmed Esau, as He had already calmed Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts and put all our fears to flight. Instead of Esau's dreaded sword, Jacob meets his embrace and kiss. Instead of strife and conflict, they weep together.
The same writer names the root of the fear: we do not know God well enough.
Commentators differ on how to judge Jacob here. Some read this meeting as the lowest point of his life. Wrestling at the brook Jabbok did not stop the old habits returning the moment he faced a man.
A person may be deeply stirred before God, and still make little progress in the strength his soul needs for its fight with the world. At no point in his history does Jacob appear morally lower than in what follows Peniel. He is in no way cleansed from himself. He calculates, he twists the truth, he puts on charm and confidence, he lies, he flatters. He stood firm against the stranger at Jabbok… But in front of Esau he plays the old man to shameful perfection. It is all miserable. It is a humbling picture of how low a believer can sink, for a time, when he lets his old nature have its way.
Others see a man who has gained something. On this reading the new name has begun to tell: Jacob no longer hides behind the women and children, but walks out in front.
Still there is progress. For now his little faith was enough to give him courage. Esau is in sight. But this is no longer Jacob terrified, sending women and children ahead of him. It is Israel going out in front — the prince who had power with men and prevailed.
Jacob's dread came from his own past wrong against Esau. That kind of fear has an answer too.
It may be that we are in circumstances our own wrongdoing has brought us into, and that we rightly dread the consequences. Even that we can take to God, if we have honestly confessed our sin. All the anxiety of it, all the care, we may cast on Him… The case of Jacob and Esau shows how God can and will turn dreaded events into blessing for us, when we wait on Him in brokenness.
- Sight — Jacob lifts his eyes and sees four hundred men. Everything he does next flows from what his eyes report, not from trust in God.
- Scheming — The order of his family proves his fear outlived Peniel. He put the ones he cared least about in front of the first blow.
- Sovereignty — God was greater than his fears. He calmed Esau, just as He had already calmed Laban.
- Surprise — The sword never came. Esau ran and embraced him, and they wept. The whole plan proved useless.
- Substance — The root of such fear is simple: we do not know God well enough. Even dread we have earned by our own wrong we can hand to Him.
and he put the maidservants and their children foremost, and Leah and her children after, and Rachel and Joseph hindmost.
Jacob has just come from Peniel, where he met God, and now he looks up and sees Esau coming with four hundred men. What he does next tells us more about his heart than his words do — he sorts his wives and children into ranks and puts the ones he loves least in front.
The marching order was not military strategy. It ranked the family by who Jacob could most afford to lose:
This arrangement proved the continuance of his fears. He still expected Esau to take revenge, and he put those he cared least about where the first blow would fall. How astonishing are the depths of the human heart! How slow it is to trust God! If Jacob had truly been leaning on God, he could never have expected destruction for himself and his family.
The verse before this one begins with Jacob lifting up his eyes. What he sees sets the whole arrangement in motion:
Whether first or last, it is Jacob still, with the lust of the eyes at work. So Jacob acts as his eyes guide him. He arranges his circumstances himself, instead of making the Lord his centre. "He put the servants with their children in front, then Leah with her children, and Rachel and Joseph last of all, and he went first." Then he bowed to the ground seven times, forgetting the word of God and the blessing he had schemed to get.
One writer weighs the whole scene that follows Peniel:
A person can have a real dealing with God, and yet gain little of the strength the soul needs for its conflict with the world. In no part of his history does Jacob look morally lower than in the stage right after Peniel. He is not in any way purified from himself. He calculates, he twists the truth, he puts on a show of warmth and confidence, he lies, he flatters. It is all miserable. It is a humbling picture of the moral condition a believer may come to, for a time, if nature is allowed to act.
Reverse the line and you get Jacob's own ranking of his affections. The rear position is the safest, and that is where Rachel and Joseph are placed:
He even divides his family at this time, putting the maids and their children first, then Leah and her children, followed by Rachel and Joseph, for whom he was plainly the most concerned.
The same writer points out that trust would have reversed the order. If Jacob had believed Esau meant no harm, the ones he treasured would have led the way:
If he had more confidence in Esau, he would have presented Rachel and Joseph first. They were the most important to him.
Jacob planned as if nothing could change Esau's mind. One writer points to what he left out of his reckoning:
None of the patriarchs went through such unrest as Jacob. So it must be when someone is out of communion with God — who uses the anxiety, the change and the danger to do us good and restore the soul at last… He never thought of God's power over every heart. He never thought that God meant to overrule Esau's resentment and fill his heart with warm natural affection. Jacob passed before the carefully arranged company of women and children, bowing to the ground in a cringing way until he came near his brother. Then Esau ran to meet him, embraced him, fell on his neck, and kissed him.
Jacob had also sent a present on ahead of him. It turned out to be as needless as the marching order:
The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God appeased Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts, and put all our fears to flight. Instead of the dreaded sword of Esau, Jacob meets his embrace and kiss. Instead of strife and conflict, they mingle their tears. He gives such sweet evidence of His faithfulness to those who put their trust in Him. Why, then, are we so ready to doubt and hesitate at every fresh occasion? The answer is simple: we do not know God well enough.
- Fear plans. The marching order shows his fear. Those Jacob cared least about went first, to take the blow he expected.
- Fear ranks. Trust would have sent Rachel and Joseph to the front. Putting them last showed exactly where his heart was.
- Fear looks. Jacob acted on what his eyes saw and arranged everything around himself instead of the Lord.
- Fear forgets. He never once reckoned with God's power over Esau's heart — a heart God had already turned toward him.
- Faith rests. The present was unnecessary and the plan useless. The cure for fear is not a better strategy. It is knowing God better.
And he passed on before them, and bowed to the earth seven times, until he came near to his brother.
Jacob is about to meet Esau, the brother he cheated, and he walks out ahead of his family to bow low seven times. Everything hangs on how we read that bow — courage at last, or the old Jacob still cringing before his brother.
This was not the courtesy one brother owes another. It was the crouch of a man buying safety, and it came from something inside Jacob, not from anything Esau demanded.
Now he must meet Esau, and with a servility that is not becoming to a brother, he bows himself seven times to the ground (v. 3). Of course it was conscience and fear that made him do this, but Esau had no such attitude.
God had already settled which brother would serve the other. Jacob's bow said the opposite.
Jacob's shameful falling down in front of Esau, cringing like a servant, gave a false picture of the God he served. God had indeed said, "The elder shall serve the younger." But a bad conscience produced this grovelling weakness. Faith would have given him a calm dignity instead — dignity enough to stand face to face with his brother and bear a true witness for God. Courteous respect for others is good, but giving way to evil is bad.
Not everything here is failure. Earlier, Jacob sent the women and children out ahead of him. Here he goes first, and one writer sees in that the mark of his new name, Israel.
Still there is progress. His little faith was now enough to give him courage. Esau is in sight. But this is no longer Jacob, terrified and sending women and children ahead of him. This is Israel going out in front (33:3) — the prince who had power with men and prevailed. That is the second privilege of his new name. Whatever thoughts of vengeance were in Esau's mind, they are all gone. Israel bows himself seven times like a man begging, yet he is the prince and he prevails. Esau is subdued and runs to meet his brother.
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Commentators differ here. Others read the same scene as failure. Jacob had just prevailed with God, yet that strength deserted him in front of his brother.
At Peniel God meets him (His face hidden) to make him learn the strength that is perfected only in weakness. With his thigh out of joint he prevails and is blessed. The secret of strength is learned. Yet, strange as it may seem, the power he has with God he cannot yet find in front of man. He meets Esau like a grovelling servant, and still practises his old deceit.
Whatever the bow meant, it changed nothing. God had already dealt with Esau before Jacob's knee touched the ground.
But notice now how completely useless the heart's anxiety was. "But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept." The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God "appeased" Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts. He puts all our fears to flight.
One night Jacob held his ground with God. The next day he could not hold it with his brother.
A victory like this does not necessarily cure the faint-heartedness that caused the earlier conflict. This is a warning for us. There may be real exercise of spirit before God, and yet the soul gains little strength for its fight with the world. Nowhere in his story does Jacob appear morally lower than in what happens right after Peniel. He calculates, he twists the truth, he puts on a show of warmth and trust, he lies, he flatters. He stood firm against the stranger at Jabbok. He was strong in faith, glorifying the grace of God, even when God was contending with him. But in front of Esau he plays out his old nature to shameful perfection.
- Cause: A bad conscience, not love, drove Jacob to the ground seven times. Fear kept working in him long after God had removed the danger.
- Contradiction: God had said the elder would serve the younger. Jacob's bow said the opposite, and gave a false picture of the God he served.
- Contrast: Commentators differ. Some see progress: Jacob goes first instead of hiding behind his family. Others see his lowest point, right after Peniel.
- Consequence: God had already appeased Esau. The gift was unnecessary and the whole plan was useless.
- Caution: Power with God does not turn by itself into calm dignity in front of people. That has to be learned too.
And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him; and they wept.
Jacob had cheated his brother Esau, and years later he had to face him again — with Esau coming to meet him and four hundred men behind him. Instead of the sword he dreaded, Jacob met a run, an embrace and tears, and commentators ask who produced that welcome.
Jacob had planned every step of this meeting to survive it. One writer says none of it was needed.
But notice now the complete emptiness of the heart's anxiety. "But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept." The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God "appeased" Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts, and to put all our fears to flight. Instead of the dreaded sword of Esau, Jacob meets his embrace and kiss; instead of strife and conflict, they mingle their tears. Such are God's ways.
Esau did not change himself. One writer traces the change to the One who rules over every heart.
But He whose eye is over all hearts kept aged Isaac alive for a long time yet. The days of mourning did not come before Esau met Jacob with four hundred men, to Jacob's great distress. But God turned the heart that meant to kill him, so that he received the trembling man with kisses and tears. So truly does God arrange things, whatever those who do not know Him may plan.
Jacob had sent droves of livestock ahead to buy his brother's goodwill. The order of events in the chapter undoes that plan.
Just see how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present! ... But Esau had not even seen the male and female servants, or the flocks and donkeys and oxen. He had wept on his brother's neck first. Then he "lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children" and said, "Who are these with you?" He did not know what the droves meant until Jacob told him. Then he took the gift not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
The same words appear again in a story Jesus told about a father and a son who came home.
Are you afraid to meet God, and are you trying to "appease him with a present"? What a mistake! "But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him!" We read the same of the father in Luke 15. When he saw his son coming home "a great way off," he "ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him." Do you suppose that anything you could bring would affect God's feelings towards you? Impossible! ... Do you know what His feeling towards you is? Love! "God is love."
(Wolston is quoting an older translation of Luke 15:20; the ESV reads "ran and embraced him and kissed him.")
Esau had no idea he was picturing anything.
So Esau sets forth God-like grace. Sovereign grace moved him, and God ruled his circumstances so that he played God's part without knowing it. His love overflows on the neck of the man once hated as a cheat and a liar!
Jacob's fear made sense. He had wronged Esau, and he had walked into this trouble himself.
It may be that we are in circumstances that our own wrongdoing has brought us into, and that we rightly dread the consequences. Even that we can take to God, if we have sincerely confessed our sin. All the anxiety of it, all the care, we may cast on Him — "casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you." The case of Jacob and Esau shows how God can and will turn dreaded events into blessing for us, when we wait on Him in brokenness.
At ground level, this is two brothers crying in each other's arms after long years apart. Commentators differ on why Esau softened: one writer points to the passing of time, and draws a family lesson.
He ran to meet his brother, embraced him and kissed him. Then both of them wept. Time had made a difference with Esau in particular. What a relief for Jacob! Indeed, no one should let a family feud continue long without a reconciliation. Only a very hard heart could keep up bitter resentment against a brother for years.
- Jacob planned. He divided his family, sent gifts ahead and bowed to the ground — and every piece of it turned out to be unnecessary.
- God moved. God turned the heart that had meant to kill him, and Esau received the trembling man with kisses and tears.
- Esau ran. He wept on his brother's neck before he had even seen the flocks; the gift was never what won him.
- Grace surprises. The same words describe the father in Luke 15, running to meet his son. Nothing you bring changes God's feelings towards you. His feeling is already love.
- Brothers wept. We can carry to God even the trouble we caused ourselves, and a long feud can end in an embrace.
And he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and the children, and said, Who are these with thee? And he said, The children that God has graciously given thy servant.
Jacob has just come through his wrestling at Peniel. Now the brother he dreads stands in front of him, and Esau's first question is about the women and children. Jacob's answer gives God the credit — yet the same man had just lined up that family as a human shield.
Jacob's planning had already shown his heart. He lined up his household in a deliberate order.
This arrangement proved the continuance of his fears. He still expected Esau to take revenge. So he put those he cared least about in the way of the first blow. How amazing are the depths of the human heart! How slow it is to trust God! If Jacob had really been leaning on God, he could never have expected destruction for himself and his family. But the heart knows something of how hard it is to rest, in calm confidence, on an ever-present, all-powerful, and infinitely gracious God.
The embrace and the tears that come just before Esau's question were God's answer to a plan that was never needed. What Jacob had schemed to buy, God had already given.
But notice the complete emptiness of the heart's anxiety... The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God "appeased" Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts and put all our fears to flight. Instead of the sword he dreaded, Jacob meets Esau's embrace and kiss. Instead of strife and conflict, they weep together. Such are God's ways. Who would not trust Him? Why are we so quick to doubt each new time, in spite of all the sweet evidence of His faithfulness to those who trust Him? The answer is simple: we are not well enough acquainted with God... The true knowledge of God, real acquaintance with Him, is life and peace.
Esau has to ask his question because Jacob's fear had left something out. The reply marks a change of tone in the man.
He never thought of God's power over every heart. He never thought that God meant to overrule Esau's resentment and fill his heart with warm, natural affection... In his fear Jacob had told Esau about his great wealth, but said nothing about his family. So Esau asks, "Who are these with you?" Jacob, now more at ease, answers as a believer should: "The children whom God has graciously given your servant."
Jacob does not call his children his own achievement. He traces them to God's kindness. Other parts of Scripture teach the same lesson.
If there are children, they too are God's gift — a heritage from the Lord. They are His gift as His reward, the mark of His approval on those who fear Him and obey His word... So in every age God will have His people learn that He is the source of all their blessings. He is a GIVER, the God of all grace. The secret of a happy, restful life lies in real dependence on Him. What anxieties and fears we would escape if this lesson were cut deeper into our hearts! ... When we have once learned that God is a giver, we are content and happy to be receivers.
Commentators differ over Jacob here. The same meeting that produced this good confession also produced lies and flattery.
A person may go through a real inner struggle before God, and still gain little strength for the fight with the world. Nowhere in Jacob's story does he look lower in character than in the part right after Peniel. He is not in any way purified from himself. He calculates, he twists words, he puts on a show of friendliness and confidence, he lies, he flatters.
Fear shaped the way Jacob approached his brother. Esau met him in a completely different spirit.
Of course it was conscience and fear that made Jacob bow to the ground, but Esau had no such attitude... Time had made a difference with Esau in particular. What a relief for Jacob! Indeed, families should never let a feud run on for long without a reconciliation. Only an unusually hard heart could hold bitter anger against a brother for years.
- Fear plans. Jacob lined up his wives and children because he still expected the sword. He put those he cared least about in front.
- God gives. The brother he feared ran to embrace him. The present was unnecessary and the scheming useless, because God had already appeased Esau.
- Faith owns the Giver. Asked about his family, Jacob takes no credit. He calls them the children God graciously gave — the answer of a believer.
- Receivers rest. Children are a heritage from the Lord. Once we learn that God is a giver, we are content to be receivers.
- Words outrun walk. The same lips that owned God's grace also lied and flattered. A true word can sit beside a low life.
And the maidservants drew near, they and their children, and they bowed.
Genesis 33 has already turned: the brother Jacob dreaded has run to meet him, embraced him and wept. Now Jacob presents the family, group by group, in the order he had arranged beforehand. The two servant wives and their children step forward first. He had placed them there when he still expected a sword.
Jacob himself set the order of the groups. One commentator reads that order as a measure of how much he trusted Esau.
Esau now needs an introduction to Jacob's wives and children, and each group comes forward in the order Jacob had arranged beforehand. In fact, if he had more confidence in Esau, he would have presented Rachel and Joseph first, for they were most important to him.
So the servants and their children walked first because Jacob cared about them least. Another commentator says what that meant for them:
This arrangement showed that his fears had not gone. He still expected Esau to take revenge, and he put those he cared about least in the way of the first blow. How amazing are the depths of the human heart! How slow it is to trust God! If Jacob had truly been leaning on God, he could never have expected destruction for himself and his family.
The whole company bows. Jacob's words to his brother matched the posture.
"My lord" and "your servant" is not like the language of a brother, or of someone who knows the dignity of standing in God's presence. But it was the language of Jacob — and of Jacob with a bad conscience.
God told Rebekah, before the twins were born, which brother would serve which. The bowing runs against that word.
When Jacob knew that the Lord had told Rebekah "the older shall serve the younger" (ch. 25:23), it is sad to see him putting himself so far beneath Esau. Of course, because he had earlier pushed Esau out of his place, he was moved by both conscience and fear.
Jacob's whole plan rested on one assumption: that Esau's heart was set against him. One commentator points to the power Jacob never reckoned with.
Jacob was still far from peace as he thought about Esau. He never thought of God's power over all hearts, or of His purpose to overrule Esau's resentment and fill his heart with warm, natural affection. In his dread Jacob had prepared Esau for his great wealth, but said nothing about his family. So Esau asks, "Who are these with you?" Jacob, now more at ease, answers as a believer should: "The children whom God has graciously given your servant."
Esau's welcome came before he had seen any of Jacob's precautions.
See how useless Jacob's plans were, trying to buy a pardon with a present! Esau had not even seen the men and women servants, or the flocks, donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Only then did he lift up his eyes, see the women and children, and say, "Who are these?" As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. And then he took the gift not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
Scripture keeps Jacob's failures on the record. One commentator says why:
Scripture sets before us, in faithful love, all the traits of man's character. It does this simply to magnify the riches of divine grace and to warn our souls... It is also so that we may see clearly that the blessed God has not been dealing with perfect men and women. He has been dealing with people of the same nature as ours. He has walked with them and borne with them through the same failures, the same weaknesses and the same errors that we mourn over every day.
- Fear arranges. The servant wives and their children came first because Jacob had ranked his family by what he could bear to lose.
- Fear bows. The same fear set the posture. "My lord" and "your servant" came from a bad conscience, not from God's promise.
- Fear forgets the word. Jacob knew the older was to serve the younger, yet he knelt to the older anyway.
- Grace arrives first. Esau had already wept on Jacob's neck before he saw a single animal or child. God had removed the threat the whole plan was answering.
- Grace is the point. The record of Jacob's scheming stands in Scripture not to shame him but to show God bearing with people just like us.
And Leah also, with her children, drew near, and they bowed. And lastly Joseph drew near, and Rachel, and they bowed.
Jacob's wives and children come forward group by group and bow before Esau. Leah and her children go ahead of Joseph and Rachel. The order is no accident. Jacob set it himself while he still expected his brother to attack. The way he ranked the people he loved tells us more about his heart than his words do.
Jacob fixed the order before Esau arrived. One writer reads it as proof that Jacob's fear had not left him:
This arrangement proved the continuance of his fears. He still expected Esau to take revenge. So he put the ones he cared about least where the first blow would fall. How amazing are the depths of the human heart! How slow it is to trust God! If Jacob had truly been leaning on God, he could never have expected ruin for himself and his family.
The families bow in the order of Jacob's affections, from least loved to most. If he had trusted his brother, he would have reversed it:
Esau then needs an introduction to Jacob's wives and children, and Jacob presents each of them in the order he had arranged beforehand. If he had more confidence in Esau, he would have presented Rachel and Joseph first, for they were most important to him.
Jacob arranged the scene by what his eyes reported, not by what God had told him:
So Jacob acts as guided by his eyes, and settles his surroundings by himself, with the Lord not his centre. He put the maidservants and their children first, Leah and her children after, and Rachel and Joseph last. He went ahead of them himself and bowed to the ground seven times. He had forgotten the word of God and the blessing he had schemed to get.
The bowing in this verse happens after the reunion, not before it. That sequence undoes everything Jacob had planned:
See how useless Jacob's plans were to buy a pardon with a present! Esau had not even seen the maidservants and menservants, or the flocks and donkeys and oxen. He had wept on his brother's neck first. Then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, and said, Who are these?"
The danger Jacob had braced for never came at all.
But notice now the complete emptiness of the heart's anxiety. "And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him; and they wept." The present was quite unnecessary — the plan useless. God appeased Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our cowardly, unbelieving hearts and put all our fears to flight.
Esau has to ask who these people are. Jacob's answer finally puts God at the centre of the scene:
In his dread Jacob had prepared Esau for his abundant wealth, but said nothing about his family. Hence the question, "Who are these with you?" — to which Jacob, now more at ease, answers as a believer should: "The children whom God has graciously given your servant."
Behind all of Jacob's scheming lay a promise he never needed to manage:
The Lord had promised him the blessing without any condition: "The older shall serve the younger." But he could not wait in the patience of faith for the Lord's own time and way of keeping His promise. So the promise gets loaded with reservations and difficulties and burdens. God will surely make it good. The promise of the Lord is certain, and was never forfeited yet.
- Fear ordered it. Jacob lined up the maidservants, then Leah, then Joseph and Rachel. The least loved stood where the first blow would land.
- Sight arranged it. Jacob settled his surroundings by what his eyes saw, not by what God had said. The Lord was not at his centre.
- Grace preceded it. Esau ran, embraced, kissed and wept before he even saw the women and children. The welcome came before the bowing.
- Gift renamed it. Asked who they were, Jacob answered as a believer. These children were God's gracious gift to him.
- Promise outlasted it. God promised the blessing with no conditions. Jacob's scheming only loaded it with burdens, but the Lord's word still stood.
And he said, What [meanest] thou by all the drove which I met? And he said, To find favour in the eyes of my lord.
Jacob has just come through the night struggle at Jabbok, and now the brother he has been dreading stands in front of him. Esau asks about the droves of animals he passed on the road, and Jacob's answer shows what he had hoped to buy with them.
Jacob does not dress up his reason. He says what the animals were for, and it was not affection.
Then Esau asks what all the droves he met were for. Jacob does not hide it. This was not a gift given out of love for his brother. He tells him openly that he was giving them to find favor from Esau — whom he calls "my lord" — almost as a bribe to secure his good will!
The droves were Jacob's insurance. His plan for Esau left God out.
He never thought of God's power over the hearts of all, or of His purpose to overrule Esau's resentment and fill his heart with warm natural affection… In fact it was a gift meant to turn away the anger and fierce wrath he feared. But the way he framed it, and the words he used, hardly deserve the praise people usually give it. God had acted with compassion. Jacob owed Him thanks, and he might well have been moved by his brother's affection instead of all that he had feared.
Notice when Esau asks. He has already run to Jacob, embraced him and wept — all before anyone explained the droves.
Just see how useless Jacob's plans are to buy a pardon with a present!… Esau had not even seen the male and female servants, or the flocks and donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck… As for the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. Then he took them, not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
Esau answers that he needs nothing. The word he uses is not the word Jacob uses later, and the difference is worth hearing.
In the end he accepted Jacob's present, but at first he turned it down, saying, "I have enough" — or, word for word, "I have much." In verse 11 Jacob also says, "I have enough," but he uses a different word, meaning "all." He could use that word because he was able to say, "God has dealt graciously with me." A man of the world may be able to say, "I have much." Only the believer, who knows God has blessed him, can say, "I have all."
Jacob had stood his ground in the night struggle at Jabbok, the place he called Peniel. Yet in front of his brother he crumbles, and commentators judge this stretch of his life harshly.
At no point in his story does Jacob look morally lower than in the time right after Peniel. He is not cleansed of self in any way. He calculates, he dodges the truth, he puts on a show of warmth and trust, he lies, he flatters. He stood against the stranger at Jabbok… But in front of Esau he plays his old self to shameful perfection. It is all wretched — a humbling picture of the state a believer can sink to, for a time, if nature is left to itself.
Writers turn this on the reader. Many people hope to soften God by giving Him something first.
How many people live under the delusion that they have something to do to appease God. What a mistake!… Of course, if your present is the ground you stand on before God, you may well say "perhaps." Can you appease Him with a present? Impossible! Yet that is the first thought in the heart of the sinner who wants to come near to God.
The answer is not a better gift. It is what God has already shown about His heart:
Did we not each think — if not say — "I will appease him with the present"? He needs no appeasing. His heart does not need turning toward us. He showed His feelings toward us in the gift of His Son… We needed to be reconciled to God; God did not need to be reconciled to us. He always was and still is for us.
- Motive — Jacob names his own reason for the droves: to win favor, not to show love for his brother.
- Fear — Jacob sent the present to head off the anger he expected. He forgot God's power to turn a hostile heart.
- Wasted — Esau had already run, embraced and wept before he learned what the droves meant. Jacob paid for a pardon he already had.
- Contrast — Esau can say "I have much"; only the one who knows God has dealt graciously with him can say "I have all."
- Warning — buying God off is the sinner's first thought, and it is a mistake. God settled His heart toward us in the gift of His Son.
And Esau said, I have enough, my brother; let what thou hast be thine.
Jacob comes home to Canaan afraid of his brother, sending flock after flock ahead of him to buy peace. Esau turns the whole gift down — so what does he mean by "enough," and was the gift ever needed?
Jacob built his whole plan around a danger that no longer existed. One writer shows who had already changed Esau's heart:
But notice now how empty the heart's anxiety was. "But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept." The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God "appeased" Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts and to put all our fears to flight. Jacob dreaded Esau's sword, but he meets his embrace and kiss instead. Instead of strife and conflict, they weep together. Such are God's ways. Who would not trust Him, or honour Him with full confidence? Why, after all the sweet evidence of His faithfulness, are we so ready to doubt and hesitate on every new occasion? The answer is simple: we do not know God well enough.
If the gift did not change Esau, it still told the truth about the giver. Another writer traces Jacob's fear back to his own unbelief:
Jacob is free from Laban and continues his journey towards Canaan. To comfort and strengthen him, God sends an army of His angels to meet him. Yet despite this encouragement from God, unbelief renews Jacob's fear in the presence of his brother Esau. Being rescued from danger does not destroy unbelief. You do not get rid of the difficulties of the path of faith by trying to avoid them. You must overcome them by the power of God. Jacob had brought these difficulties on himself, because he had not trusted God. Jacob forgot the host of God. Esau no longer held any hatred in his heart against his brother, yet his army frightened the feeble Jacob. So he could then use all kinds of means to appease his brother's anger, which he assumed and dreaded. He sends flock after flock across; and this does more to show the state of Jacob's heart than to change Esau's.
Two verses later Jacob also says "enough," but he is not using the same word. One commentator explains the difference:
In the end Esau accepted Jacob's present. But at first he declined it, saying, "I have enough," or, more exactly, "I have much." In verse 11 we find Jacob saying, "I have enough," but he used a different word, meaning "all." He could use that word because he was able to say, "God has dealt graciously with me." The man of the world may be able to say, "I have much"; only the saint, consciously blessed by God, can say, "I have all."
Esau's refusal can also be read as the answer of a man too full to need paying. One writer sees God-like grace in it, shown by a man who did not know he was showing it:
So Esau displays a God-like grace. Sovereign grace moved him, and God ruled his circumstances so that he might play His part without knowing it. His love overflows on the neck of the man he once hated as a cheat and a liar! Why? "I have enough, my brother." My soul is satisfied, and can overflow in a stream without a shore. The flood of blessing is so great that simply having something to pour it on is itself a blessing.
Not everyone reads the refusal as generosity. One writer challenges the whole habit of praising Esau at Jacob's expense:
It is common to contrast the characters of Esau and Jacob very much in Esau's favour. People present Esau as generous, noble, manly and forgiving, and Jacob as the exact reverse… But there is no ground for this fiction except Esau's forgiving attitude when Jacob returned and met him. Yet there seems little doubt that God stepped in to produce his friendly attitude that day. Esau had first set out with the four hundred men to take revenge. Then as to his generosity — it is true he says, "I have enough, my brother; keep what you have for yourself," but he takes the present all the same.
- Appeased already. God had turned Esau's heart before Jacob spent a single animal on him. The present was unnecessary and the plan useless.
- Self-exposed. Flock after flock did more to show the state of Jacob's heart than to change Esau's.
- Much. Esau's word is not "enough" but "much" — the most a man of the world can say of what he owns.
- All. Jacob's word in verse 11 is "all," and he can use it only because God has dealt graciously with him.
- Disputed. Commentators differ on Esau. One hears God-like grace in his refusal. Another notes he took the gift anyway.
And Jacob said, No, I pray thee; if now I have found favour in thine eyes, then receive my gift from my hand; for therefore have I seen thy face, as though I had seen the face of God, and thou hast received me with pleasure.
God had already done what Jacob was still trying to arrange for himself. The brother he dreaded ran to embrace him. Safe at last, Jacob reached for the highest praise he could think of and gave it to Esau — comparing his brother's face to the face of God.
Jacob had sent droves of animals ahead to soften his brother. Commentators say he wasted the effort.
But notice now how completely pointless the heart's anxiety was. "But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept." The present was quite unnecessary — the plan, useless. God "appeased" Esau, as He had already appeased Laban. This is how He always delights to rebuke our poor, cowardly, unbelieving hearts, and put all our fears to flight.
Jacob's failure lay in what he never stopped to consider.
He never thought of God's power over the hearts of everyone. He never thought that God meant to overrule Esau's resentment and fill his heart with warm, natural affection.
The compliment in this verse is often admired. Commentators who look at it closely find it overdone.
Jacob insists. Since Esau's attitude toward him was favourable, he wants Esau to take his present. His words to Esau are far too flattering and exaggerated. He says that seeing Esau was like seeing the face of God (v.10). Though we read of Jacob giving this large gift to Esau, we never read of him keeping his promise to give one tenth of everything he owned to God!
Esau first turns the gift down. What the gift was for explains Jacob's words.
When Esau asks what all the droves were for, Jacob says, "To find favor in the sight of my lord." Esau tells him to keep what is his, and Jacob presses the gift on him harder still. In fact it was a gift meant to turn away the anger and fierce wrath he expected; but the way he framed it, and the words he used, hardly deserve the praise usually given to them. God had acted with pity, and Jacob owed Him thanksgiving.
The night before, Jacob had named a place after the face of God. Now he hands the same description to a man.
Yet Peniel had already come in between. There he had "called the name of the place Peniel," saying, "I have seen God face to face." How could he fail after that to tell God's face from his brother's? He could not, if Peniel had really lived up to its name... Has anyone ever seen God's face without finding deliverance from self-occupation and from fear — the fear that controlled Jacob when he met his brother?
Even so, the words hide a truth Jacob did not intend. In his mind, God and Esau kept running together.
But God and Esau are mixed up in his mind all the way through. That is not strange. It is unavoidable. Whatever brings God back to our minds also brings back the person we have sinned against and never made things right with — perhaps someone we can never make things right with... There was far too much truth hidden under Jacob's grovelling words to his brother a little later: "I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of God."
People try the same strategy with God: send something ahead, press a gift, beg for favour. Commentators answer that God needs none of it.
The same thing may come out in your history and mine. Did we not each think — if not say — "I will appease him with the present"? He needs no appeasing, no turning of His heart toward us. He showed His feelings toward us in the gift of His Son... You do not need, in that sense, to appease Him. His heart is toward you. There is nothing in His heart toward you but love. We needed to be reconciled to God; not God to us.
- The face he feared. Jacob aimed his schemes at a danger God had already removed. Esau ran to embrace him before a single animal changed hands.
- The face he flattered. Commentators call his line about the face of God flattering and exaggerated — the words of a man still buying goodwill.
- The face he had seen. He had named Peniel after seeing God face to face. Seeing that face frees a person from the self-occupation and fear that gripped him here.
- The face he had wronged. Conscience explains the excess. Whatever brings God to mind also brings to mind the person we wronged and never made things right with.
- The face that never needed appeasing. God showed His heart in the gift of His Son. We needed reconciling to Him, not He to us.
Take, I pray thee, my blessing which has been brought to thee; because God has been gracious to me, and because I have everything. And he urged him, and he took [it].
Jacob finally gets his brother Esau to accept his gift, and the reason he gives is not fear but grace received. The verse turns on two small words: "blessing" and "enough." Commentators also read Jacob's tone in different ways.
In verse 9 Esau declines the gift, and in verse 11 Jacob presses it. English translations use the same word for both men. The original does not.
Esau accepted Jacob's present in the end. But at first he refused it, saying, "I have enough," or more literally, "I have much." In verse 11 we find Jacob saying, "I have enough," but he used a different word, meaning "all." He could use that word because he was able to say, "God has dealt graciously with me." A man of the world may be able to say, "I have much." Only a believer who knows God has blessed him can say, "I have all." This is what the Apostle Paul said in Philippians 4:18.
Jacob does not credit his own skill for what he owns. One writer sees a real change in the man here. (Older translations end his answer "I have everything"; the ESV has "I have enough.")
Although he failed at times, clear progress in his soul appeared. His affections reached beyond Bethel — the place — to El-Bethel — to God Himself. He is now Israel — a prince — before his God. Talking with Esau, he confesses that the possessions he had gained came from God's graciousness to him. So when Esau says, "I have enough," Jacob can answer, acknowledging God's goodness, "I have everything."
Jacob calls the gift "my blessing." One writer points out that it never did the work Jacob planned for it.
See how useless Jacob's plans were to buy a pardon with a present! Jacob said, "I will appease him with a present." … "I have sent to tell my lord, in order that I may find favor in your sight." But Esau had not even seen the women servants and men servants, or the flocks, donkeys and oxen, until he had wept on his brother's neck. Then "he lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children" and said, "Who are these with you?" As to the droves, he did not know what they meant until Jacob told him. He took the gift not as the price of pardon, but as Jacob's blessing.
Commentators differ over how much credit Jacob's speech deserves. Some hear the language of faith. Others hear a man still anxious, still flattering, still trying to buy safety.
Jacob goes further in pressing him to accept it: "for I have seen your face, as though I had seen the face of God, and you were pleased with me. Take, please, my blessing that is brought to you, because God has dealt graciously with me, and because I have all." In fact the gift was meant to turn away the anger and strong fury he expected. The way he framed it, and the words he used, hardly deserve the praise they usually get. God had acted in pity, and Jacob owed Him thanksgiving.
One detail supports the harder reading. Jacob is generous with Esau, but there was an older promise still outstanding.
Jacob insists that, since Esau's attitude toward him was friendly, he wants Esau to take his present. His words to Esau are far too flattering and exaggerated. He says that seeing Esau was like seeing the face of God. … We read of Jacob giving this large gift to Esau. But we never read of him keeping his promise to give one tenth of his possessions to God!
Jacob had prayed about Esau. Then he arranged the herds anyway, and the gift he now calls "my blessing" started out as that plan.
Jacob asked God to deliver him from his brother Esau. Yet he was not satisfied with that, and so he tried to "appease him with a present." His confidence was in the "present," and not fully in God. … We imagine, or would like to persuade ourselves, that we are leaning on God, when in reality we are leaning on some scheme of our own devising.
- Grace first. Jacob's reason for giving is not Esau's need but God's kindness: "God has dealt graciously with me."
- Grace fills. Esau can say "I have much." Only a man who knows God has blessed him can say "I have all" — the note Paul strikes in Philippians 4:18.
- Grace overflows. Because he has all, Jacob can hand a blessing over instead of holding on to what he owns.
- Grace was already at work. Esau wept on his neck before he ever saw the herds. The gift did not buy the peace.
- Grace outlasts the scheming. Jacob still leaned partly on his own plan, and his flattering words show it, yet God's dealings with him held.
And he said, Let us take our journey, and go on, and I will go before thee.
Jacob and the brother he dreaded have just met on friendly terms. Now Esau wants the two families to travel on together, with himself in the lead. It raises a plain question: what do you do when the world offers to walk with you — and to set the pace?
The proposal is friendly and practical. Esau has four hundred men and is heading to Seir; Jacob has flocks, herds and small children. One writer sets out the exchange:
Now that they have met on friendly terms, Esau proposes that they travel together to Seir, with Esau going ahead (v. 12). Jacob replies, plausibly enough, that he and his large company could not keep pace with Esau's four hundred men. The flocks and herds with young must not be overdriven, and his children were young too.
The awkwardness is not about walking speed. These two brothers belonged to two different worlds, and that is why travelling as one company was never going to work:
Jacob was the man of God; Esau was the man of the world. The principle of faith was in the one, the principle of nature in the other… "Friendship with the world is enmity with God." And this was Esau. So Esau made the earth the scene of his energies, his enjoyments, and his expectations.
Jacob's reasons were sensible. His intentions were not. Kelly is blunt about it: Jacob answered his brother with words he never meant to keep.
The truth is, that he was most anxious to get rid of his brother, and that he had not the smallest intention of going to Seir. He was going to Succoth. Viewed in the light of God, Jacob was not truthful in what he said to his brother. Evil was still unjudged in those around him. He spoke with little conscience, but with his usual gift for excuses.
Behind the excuses sits fear. Jacob had already tried to soften Esau with gifts and had called him "my lord." Handling the man of the world by your own schemes costs something:
Instead of remembering God's word, "I will be with you," and that God's host had met him, he turns again to schemes of the flesh. He wants to "find grace in the eyes of" and to "appease" "my lord Esau"… But we put ourselves under the men of the world when we use worldly, deceitful ways in our dealings with them.
And the danger had already passed. Jacob had planned for either outcome in advance:
He lifted up his eyes and looked; but God was greater than his fears. He still planned the best he could, whether Esau came as a friend or as an enemy. Here we can hardly say that Jacob walked by faith and not by sight; but God was faithful in His providence.
Commentators differ on how honest the excuse was. Tender flocks and small children cannot march at the speed of armed men, and one writer draws a lesson from it for anyone leading others:
Jacob called his gift "my blessing," but despite this he was in no way eager to have Esau's company on the rest of his journey. His plea in verse 13 was no doubt a genuine one. It applies among the people of God today. There are always some who are young and tender, who must not be overdriven. Those who have reached the stature and activity of full-grown men must remember this. They must not force the pace of their weaker brothers and sisters and so ruin them. This has damaged many a young and tender believer.
Jacob was right not to join Esau. But the way he refused left him drifting, and where he went next says more than his words did:
Then Esau said, "Let us go together," but Jacob did not want to. Was he still afraid?… But he did not really wish to be with Esau; instead, he went to Succoth where he built a house. Neither his father Isaac nor his grandfather Abraham had built any house. God called Jacob to be a stranger and a pilgrim in Canaan. Would a stranger build a house? Where was his tent?
- Offer. Esau proposes a shared journey with himself in front — the man of the world asking to set the direction for the man of faith.
- Fear. Jacob's problem was never Esau's strength but his own unbelief. God was greater than his fears, yet he still planned as if He were not.
- Excuse. His reasons were sound, but they covered an intention he never had. He said he would come to Seir; he never meant to.
- Drift. Avoiding Seir took him to Succoth, where the pilgrim built a house instead of pitching a tent.
- Pace. The one true thing in his plea still stands — the young and weak must not be driven at the speed of the strong.
And he said to him, My lord knows that the children are tender, and the suckling sheep and kine are with me; and if they should overdrive them only one day, all the flock would die.
Esau had just offered to travel on together. Jacob answered by pointing to what he was leading: small children and nursing flocks. One hard day's drive would kill them. His answer raises two questions: is it good shepherding, and is it the whole truth?
Jacob's reason is sound in itself, whatever his motives. One writer takes the plea at face value and applies it to the people of God.
Jacob called his gift "my blessing." Even so, he had no wish at all for Esau's company on the rest of his journey. His plea, recorded in verse 13, was doubtless a genuine one. It lends itself to an application among the people of God today. There are always some who are young and tender, who must not be overdriven. Those who have reached the stature and activity of full-grown men must remember this. They must not force the pace of their weaker brothers and so ruin them. This has damaged many a young and tender believer.
The practical point is arithmetic: a company moves at the speed of its slowest member, or it loses them. Esau had four hundred men who could march; Jacob had lambs and toddlers.
Esau proposes to Jacob that they travel together to Seir, Esau going before (v. 12), but Jacob replies, quite plausibly, that he and his large company could not keep pace with Esau's four hundred men. The flocks and herds with young must not be overdriven, and his children also were young.
The principle reaches further than travel. One writer applies Jacob's words to praying aloud with others. The people praying with you set the length, not your own stamina. He ends with Jacob's words from the next verse, in an older translation.
Lengthy prayer. Pray often rather than very long. It is difficult to remain long in prayer without slackening in our affections. Watch this above all in prayer with others. When we pray in company, we must consider those who travel with us. As Jacob said: "I will lead on softly, as the children are able to endure."
Jacob's description of his flock was accurate. His stated destination was not. He said he would follow Esau to Seir, and he never meant to go.
Esau proposes that they should travel on, with himself leading the way. Jacob pleads the tenderness of the children, and of the flocks and herds that would all die if overdriven for one day. He begs his lord to go on ahead while he leads on gently, until he comes to his "lord" in Seir. Then, when Esau offers some of his trained escort, he replies, "Why this? Let me find favour in my lord's eyes." The truth is that he was most anxious to be rid of his brother. He had not the smallest intention of going to Seir. He was going to Succoth. Seen in the light of God, Jacob was not truthful in what he said to his brother. There was evil still unjudged in those around him. He spoke with little conscience about it, but with his usual talent for excuses.
A genuine reason can still serve as cover. Jacob had a simple, honest answer ready and did not use it.
Why did Jacob not act in simplicity of faith? He could have simply told Esau the truth, that God had directed him to return to Bethel. Was he afraid that Esau might be put out if Jacob did not come to visit him at least? But would Esau not be more put out by Jacob's deceiving him as he did?
Jacob claimed to match his pace to the weak. The Lord truly does this, and with no mixed motive.
Note the words, "He leads me." He does not drive or drag; He leads. I was visiting a young mother. She was teaching her baby boy to walk. As she led him across the floor, I noticed something. She did not make him take the long strides she could have taken, or go at the pace she could have gone. She shortened her steps to his, and went as he could go, speaking words of encouragement all the way. As I watched this charming sight I said to myself, "That is it — He leads me." Yes, young Christian, you may be weak. But He who leads you is strong... He will lead you, not drive you, in the paths of righteousness. He will not make you go beyond your strength, or lay on you one thing you are not able to bear.
- Tender. Jacob's flock had nursing young, and his children were small. One hard day's drive would have killed them.
- Pace. The strong set the pace for the weak, never the reverse — in travel, in teaching, even in how long we pray with others.
- Damage. Forcing the pace is not a harmless mistake. It has damaged many young and tender believers.
- Cover. A true reason can still hide a false plan. Jacob's words about his flock were sound. His promise to follow Esau to Seir was not — he went to Succoth.
- Shepherd. The Lord leads rather than drives, shortening His steps to ours and never asking more than we can bear.
Let my lord, I pray thee, pass on before his servant, and I will drive on at my ease according to the pace of the cattle that is before me, and according to the pace of the children, until I come to my lord, to Seir.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Esau said, Let me now leave with thee [some] of the people that are with me. And he said, What need? Let me find favour in the eyes of my lord.
Esau has just welcomed his brother, and now offers to leave some of his men with him as an escort. Jacob turns it down with a polite question, and commentators ask whether that politeness was honest.
Jacob's answer is a polite refusal. It also hides where he meant to go next:
When Esau offers some of his trained escort, Jacob replies, "What need is there? Let me find favor in the sight of my lord." The truth is that he was most anxious to get rid of his brother, and that he had not the smallest intention of going to Seir. He was going to Succoth.
Jacob wanted no protection from Esau. His own state of mind explains the refusal:
Jacob shows that his confidence was far from restored. He is uneasy at Esau's presence: his conscience was not good. Esau offers his protection. There was nothing further from Jacob's desire. Is it too much to say that the excuse was not entirely truthful? Can anyone believe that Jacob meant to visit him at Mount Seir? It is certain that as soon as Esau turns his back, he goes another way.
At Peniel Jacob had prevailed with God. That strength did not show itself in front of his brother:
At Peniel God meets him, His face hidden, to make him learn the strength that is perfected only in weakness. With his thigh out of joint he prevails and is blessed. The secret of strength is learned, and yet, strange as it may seem, the power he has with God he cannot yet find before man. He meets Esau with cringing submission. He still practises his old deceit. He talks of following him to Seir, and as soon as he is free of him, he crosses into Canaan.
Jacob had a real and honourable reason for parting from Esau, and he never used it:
Why did Jacob not act in simplicity of faith? He could have simply told Esau the truth, that God had directed him to return to Bethel. Was he afraid that Esau might be upset by Jacob's not coming to visit him at least? But would Esau not be more upset by Jacob's deceiving him as he did?
Jacob calls Esau "my lord" and asks for his favour. He had a better promise to lean on:
Instead of remembering God's word, "I will be with you," and the fact that God's host had met him, he falls back again on his own schemes, so as to find favor in the sight of "my lord Esau" and to appease him. To faith, if there had been four thousand men with Esau instead of four hundred, what of that? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" Besides, what right or title had Esau? But we put ourselves under the men of the world when we use worldly, deceitful ways in our dealings with them.
Jacob's next move showed what his promise to Esau was worth, and what he wanted for himself:
Jacob declined the offered help, and Esau departed. Then Jacob again reveals the crookedness that seems to have been his natural bent. He had said to Esau, "I come to my lord to Seir." Yet he went at once to Succoth, which lay in a completely different direction. And when he arrived there, the record is that he built a house and made shelters for his cattle. That shows he had a mind to settle down in the land instead of keeping the character of a stranger.
Jacob's failure here cost him more than he knew:
God was faithful to Jacob, but Jacob was not yet faithful to God. God still held something back. He could not yet reveal His name to him as He did to Abraham and Isaac, and as He would to Jacob in due time. There was not the self-judgment that made the way for it. So with all his fawning on his brother there was not even openness, and still less faith in action.
- Peniel: Jacob had just prevailed with God, yet the strength learned there did not show up in front of his brother.
- Fear: He was anxious to be rid of Esau, and had no intention of ever going to Seir.
- Flattery: Calling Esau "my lord" was the language of a man handling the world by the world's own methods.
- Evasion: The simple truth — that God had sent him back — would have served him better than the excuse he chose.
- Succoth: He built a house where a stranger should have pitched a tent. God stayed faithful to a man who was not yet faithful to Him.
And Esau returned that day on his way to Seir.
The meeting Jacob had dreaded ends without violence. Esau turns for home the same day, and the brothers part. Commentators read this short verse as the moment when two portions and two kinds of men separate for good.
Esau goes home, but he does not take the promise with him. It stays with Jacob:
Esau now leaves the promise, however, to him, and goes to the place God hates — to his own portion.
Seir is Esau's own country, the land of Edom, and it is no neutral ground:
Esau returned the same day to his own place. It was a land hostile to Israel and hateful to God, and the close family tie only deepened His hatred of it. For vengeance belongs to Jehovah, who will not let guilty men, who have no right to it, take it into their own hands.
Seir suited Esau because it matched his character. One writer sets the two brothers side by side:
The man of God was found in Jacob, the man of the world in Esau; the principle of faith was in the one, the principle of nature in the other... So Esau made the earth the place of his energies, his enjoyments, and his expectations. He was "a man of the field," and "a skillful hunter." He prospered in his own day. He loved the field, and he knew how to use the field. He set his heart on the present life, and he knew how to use what it offered for his own pleasure.
Esau had a grievance and the power to act on it. God held him back — and later held Israel back from Edom:
Esau had a serious grudge against Jacob. Yet God acted directly, and Esau was not allowed to touch a hair of his brother's head. On the other hand, Israel must not meddle with Esau's possessions... So we see that the same God who would not allow Esau to touch Jacob, in Genesis 33, now will not allow Israel to touch Edom, in Numbers 20.
Esau leaves for Seir expecting his brother to follow. Commentators read Jacob's promise as an evasion:
The truth is that he was most anxious to get rid of his brother, and that he had not the smallest intention of going to Seir. He was going to Succoth. Seen in God's light, Jacob was not truthful in what he said to his brother. The evil in the people around him had still not been judged, and he spoke with little conscience but with his usual gift for excuses.
His route gives him away:
Jacob turned down the help Esau offered, and Esau left. Then Jacob again shows the crookedness that seems to have been his natural bent. He had said to Esau, "I come to my lord to Seir," yet he travelled at once to Succoth, which lay in a completely different direction.
Esau's departure left Jacob free to go where God had called him. He stopped short:
After all this display of God's goodness, we find Jacob settling down in Succoth. He builds a house there, as if it were his home. That goes against the spirit and principles of a pilgrim life. Now, Succoth was clearly not the place God had appointed for him. The Lord had not said to him, "I am the God of Succoth." He had said, "I am the God of Bethel." So Bethel, not Succoth, should have been Jacob's great aim. But the heart is always ready to settle for a place and a portion that fall short of what God would graciously give.
Commentators differ on how hard to judge this stop. One takes a gentler view:
God's patience does not leave him until he crosses the outer limits. Succoth is still on God's path, though at its edge. He can still deal in grace.
- Portion. Esau goes home to Seir and takes his own portion — the place God hates — leaving the promise with his brother.
- Appetite. He goes there gladly because his heart is already there. He was a man of the field, and he set his heart on the present life.
- Protection. The peaceful parting was God's doing. He would not let Esau touch a hair of Jacob's head, and later He would not let Israel touch Edom.
- Evasion. Jacob promised to follow to Seir, then went the other way. He bought freedom from Esau with an untruth.
- Shortfall. Free of his brother, Jacob still settled at Succoth instead of Bethel. The danger is always stopping short of what God has appointed.
And Jacob journeyed to Succoth, and built himself a house, and for his cattle he made booths. Therefore the name of the place was called Succoth.
Jacob has survived the brother he feared, and he is back in the land God promised him. But he stops short of where God sent him, and commentators read the house he builds at Succoth as the first sign that his heart had shifted.
The place takes its name from what Jacob put up there for his animals:
Temporary shelters made from tree branches. They were used especially at the Feast of Tabernacles. Jonah made himself such a shelter. They were also used for cattle. The Hebrew is succoth.
Jacob had told Esau he would follow him to Seir. He went the other way:
Jacob had refused the help offered him, and Esau had gone. Again Jacob shows the crookedness that seems to have been his natural bent. He had said to Esau, "I come to my lord in Seir," and then he went straight to Succoth, which lay in a different direction altogether. And once he arrived there, the record is that he built a house and made booths for his cattle. This shows he had a mind to settle down in the land, rather than keep the character of a stranger, as his grandfather Abraham had done.
The booths were for the animals; the house was for himself. One writer marks where this happened, and refuses to soften that word "house":
Jacob slips away to Succoth, which should be marked east of the Jordan... The serious sign of the patriarch's state was that he built a house for himself. That was a plain departure from the pilgrim practice of his fathers, and indeed his own. Matthew Henry says Jacob "was glad of booths," as if the contrast were with his descendants in houses of stone. That is incorrect. The very point of God's word here is that he "built himself a house," while his fathers lived in tents even in the land of promise. It was marked indifference and decline in this respect; all the more because Jacob was only on his way to the land.
Another writer puts the change in social terms:
Jacob had exchanged the tent for a house, and the pilgrim stranger had become a citizen and a freeholder.
The name God gave Himself points to where Jacob should have gone:
After all this display of God's goodness, we find Jacob settling down in Succoth. Succoth was not the destination God appointed for him. The Lord had not said to him, "I am the God of Succoth"; no, but "I am the God of Bethel." Bethel, then, and not Succoth, should have been Jacob's great object. But the heart is always prone to settle for a position and a portion short of what God would graciously give.
Another writer traces what Jacob did next:
Rather than going on to Bethel (God's house), he built a house for himself. This was only half-way obedience. It did not satisfy his own conscience, for he left all these buildings behind and travelled to Shalem, a city of Shechem.
God's goodness to Jacob was fresh. That is what makes this stop dangerous:
However small, it was a turn away from the path of a pilgrim. It was also a halt on a road he should have followed without stopping until he reached Bethel. And since one shortcoming always leads to another, the next thing we read of him is that he bought a piece of a field from the children of Hamor... God Himself is not the first object of the soul. His gifts, sadly, too often shut out God Himself.
One step aside carried a long cost:
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal and sorrow... His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He had to be unsettled to get him back to his pilgrim place. The way was painful for all, and it brought deep shame, humiliation and fear to the patriarch.
Yet these place names return later, in one of Israel's psalms:
"God has spoken in His holiness: 'With exultation I will divide up Shechem and portion out the Vale of Succoth'" (Psalm 60:6). Shechem and Succoth remind us how Israel's history began with Jacob, their father. These are the first places where he settled when he came back to the land of promise, after his years in a foreign land. One day it will be the same for the remnant of Israel. They will gather around the true David and take back their land as they follow Him.
- Booths — Succoth means the branch-shelters Jacob put up for his animals. The place east of the Jordan took its name from them.
- House — the shelters were temporary; the house was not. Trading the tent for a house turned a pilgrim stranger into a citizen and freeholder.
- Half-way — God called Himself the God of Bethel, not of Succoth. Jacob stopped short and built his own house instead of reaching God's.
- Drift — one small turn aside led to the next step, buying a field. God's gifts can shut out God Himself.
- Hope — Israel's psalm names this same ground as land God will yet divide up, when the people follow the true David.
And Jacob came safely [to the] city Shechem, which is in the land of Canaan, when he came from Padan-Aram; and he encamped before the city.
Jacob is back in the land of promise after twenty years away, camped outside a Canaanite city. Two questions drive the verse: what does "safely" say about him, and why did he stop at Shechem instead of going on to Bethel?
Older translations treat the word as a town name, "Shalem." One dictionary reads it as a description instead.
This is judged not to be a proper name. The passage should read that Jacob came 'safely' to the city of Shechem (Gen. 33:18). The Revised Version has 'came in peace.'
The word sets his fear on the road against his state on arrival. And Shechem, of all places, is where he failed most.
There is little need to defend "in peace" against "to Shalem," the reading of the King James Version. "In peace" stands in contrast with his troubled mind, when dread of Esau filled him between Peniel and Succoth. That contrast is surely to the point. Yet as he failed at Succoth, so he failed still more at Shechem. Shechem had a pointed claim on him beyond Shalem. For it was there that Abraham, the father of the faithful, first saw Jehovah appear to him in Canaan, and received the promise that God would give that land to his descendants. And there Abraham built an altar to Jehovah who appeared to him.
Jacob arrived in one piece. One writer traces that to God, not to anything in Jacob.
God's secret providence kept Jacob in this way. There was nothing in him to approve. Yet God secretly secured blessing and preservation for him, and Jacob returns to the land of promise.
Bethel, God's house, was where Jacob should have gone. He stopped twice before he got there.
Rather than going to Bethel (God's house) he built a house for himself. This was only half-way obedience. It clearly did not satisfy his own conscience, for he left all these buildings behind and travelled to Shalem, a city of Shechem. Shalem means "peace." Jacob was not at peace at Succoth, but he seems to find it at Shalem. Shechem means "shoulder." It implies that we cannot enjoy peace unless we take responsibility on our shoulders. Here he does not build a house, but pitches his tent. At least he seems to realise that, in being away from Bethel, he should keep his pilgrim character.
Jacob camped right in front of a Canaanite city. One writer weighs both the tent and the spot he chose.
Here, though he had a tent and an altar, we can again see that his separation from the people of the land was being weakened. He pitched his tent close to the city, and then bought the land where he had camped.
Abraham had lived in that same place as a stranger. Darby sets the two men side by side.
He buys a field near Shechem and settles down there. Abraham had only been a stranger in that place. Abraham knew the will of God, and owned no spot of ground there to set his foot on.
The camp outside Shechem was not a harmless pause. One writer traces a long train of trouble back to it.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. So we find here as the result of Jacob's buying the land of the Hivite, and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He has to be unsettled before he returns to his pilgrim place. But the way was painful for all. It brought deep shame, humiliation and fear to Jacob.
Shechem and Succoth turn up again in Psalm 60. One writer sees Israel's future there.
"God has spoken in His holiness: I will exult, I will divide Shechem, and mete out the valley of Succoth" (Ps. 60:6). Shechem and Succoth remind us of how Israel's history began with Jacob, their father (Gen. 33:17-20). These are the first places where he settled when he returned to the land of promise after wandering in a strange land. So it will one day be for the remnant of Israel. They will gather round the true David and take back their land as they follow Him.
- Safe — "Shalem" in older versions is most likely not a town but a condition. Jacob arrives in peace, after dread of Esau on the road.
- Kept — God's secret providence brought him through. There was nothing in Jacob to approve.
- Short — he stops at Shechem instead of going on to Bethel, God's house. One writer calls this half-way obedience.
- Near — he pitched his tent by the city, then bought the ground. Abraham had owned nothing there.
- Costly — ten years at Succoth and Shechem end in shame and fear. He has to be unsettled before he returns to his pilgrim place.
And he bought the portion of the field where he had spread his tent, of the hand of the sons of Hamor, Shechem's father, for a hundred kesitahs.
Jacob has come back into Canaan. Near the city of Shechem he does something Abraham and Isaac never did: he buys land. He pays a hundred pieces of money to Hamor's sons for ground his tent already stood on. Commentators read that purchase in two ways: what it shows about Jacob, and what God later made of the field.
The "pieces of money" have a Hebrew name: qesitah. One writer weighs it against a price paid earlier in Genesis.
About 'piece of money' (Gen. 33:19; Job 42:11) and 'piece of silver' (Joshua 24:32) — qesitah — Gesenius compares Gen. 33:19 with Gen. 23:16 and supposes the weight to equal 4 shekels.
The seller has a name, and his story does not end well. Hamor was the local ruler, and Shechem was his son.
Prince of the Hivites and father of Shechem, of whose family Jacob bought a piece of ground in which Joseph was buried. He is called EMMOR in Acts 7:16. Simeon and Levi killed him with the sword, along with Shechem and every male in the city, to avenge their sister Dinah (Gen. 34:2-26).
Abraham and Isaac lived in the land without owning any of it. Jacob has just built himself a house at Succoth. Now he buys a field, and writers see a change of position, not just a change of address.
At Succoth, where Jacob first arrived, he builds a house. Then at Shalem, in Shechem, he buys a field — something Abraham and Isaac, truer to the call of God, never did and never would have done. How could he count on moral safety in such circumstances? He had exchanged the tent for a house, and the pilgrim stranger had become a citizen and a landowner… And again, the Lord did not give Abraham so much land as to set his foot on (Acts 7:5). Yet here at Shalem in Shechem, Jacob will still have a piece of ground, and buys it for an inheritance.
Shechem was not neutral ground. Abraham met the Lord there first in Canaan, and first heard the promise of the land. That sharpens what Jacob does on the same spot — and what God must do to move him on.
Yet as he failed at Succoth, so he failed still more at Shechem. That place had a special claim on him beyond Shalem. It was there that Abraham, the father of the faithful, first saw Jehovah appear in Canaan, and there he received the promise that God would give that land to his descendants. And there he built an altar to Jehovah who appeared to him. How different from the man who received no inheritance in the land — not even enough to set his foot on! All he ever held there was a burial place, bought later for his dead. So Jacob moved further and further from the position of a stranger passing through… Jacob must go through more and more humbling experience, and God must dislodge him from settling on the field he had bought from the Hivite, to bring him to the place of his vow.
Jacob later gave this ground to Joseph, and Joseph's grave was in it. Writers read that as God turning a poor purchase into a down payment.
We read of "the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph" (John 4:5), and Joshua 24:32 seems to refer to this gift too. If so, we must identify it with what is recorded in Genesis 33:19… Jacob gained a portion in the land through conflict as well as purchase. He gave it to Joseph, who became lord of that little portion of the land as well as lord of all Egypt. It was something of a foretaste and pledge that his descendants would one day possess the whole land.
Long after, the Lord came to this same ground. One writer sees the choice of place as deliberate.
We find the Lord now at Sychar, a name that means "purchased." The town took its name from the piece of land Jacob bought from the sons of Hamor and gave to Joseph, who was buried there. All that Jacob had purchased, then (though he meant it otherwise), and all that he could give to his best-loved son, was the place of a grave. It was a good place to speak of another gift and another purchase, free to all who wanted and sought it — a spring of life instead of a place of death.
Stephen says Abraham bought a tomb at Shechem, which looks like a conflict with this verse.
It is called SYCHEM in Acts 7:16, where it says that Abraham bought a tomb there. This is thought to clash with Gen. 33:19, which speaks of Jacob buying it. But nothing is said in the latter passage about a tomb: Jacob bought a piece of ground to spread his tent in.
- Purchase — Jacob paid Hamor's sons a hundred qesitah, about four shekels each, for the ground under his tent.
- Position — the price was more than money. The tent-dweller became a landowner, in a land where God gave Abraham not one foot of ground.
- Place — the failure was sharpest at Shechem, the very spot where Abraham first heard the promise of the land.
- Grave — the bought field gave Joseph only a burial plot. Yet God made that plot a pledge of the whole land.
- Gift — on that same ground the Lord offered water no one has to buy, turning a place of death into a spring of life.
And there he set up an altar, and called it El-Elohe-Israel.
Jacob is back in Canaan with a new name from God. He buys land at Shechem, builds an altar, and gives that altar a name of his own. Commentators study the name, because what a man calls his worship shows where his soul is.
Jacob took the name God had just given him and tied it to the field he had just bought.
This is the name Jacob gave to the altar he built near Shechem. God had just before changed his name to Israel, which means "a prince of God." Jacob tied the blessing carried in this name to a piece of land he bought, instead of to God's house at Bethel. So he calls the altar he had built "God, the God of Israel."
One writer draws out the direction of that name:
The name El-elohe-Israel means "God the God of Israel." He did use his new God-given name, not his old name of Jacob. Yet even so he connected God with himself instead of connecting himself with God. In effect he was saying "God belongs to me," instead of "I belong to God."
Thankfulness is real here. It is also not the whole of worship.
He builds an altar at Shechem for the first time, after he has returned to the land. The name of the altar recalls the blessing of Israel, but not the name of the God who made the promises. He calls the altar "God, the God of Israel." Thankfulness does recognise the blessing Jacob has received. But the God who blessed him is not yet revealed.
The altar was genuine, but it stood on ground Jacob chose. God had already named the place He wanted.
Jacob clearly meant to stay at Shechem. He had bought his field, so he built an altar there and called it El-elohe-Israel. His intentions were good, but it seems clear that he had not entered fully into the mind of God. It was Bethel that God had spoken to him about while he was still in Paddan-aram, for had He not said, "I am the God of Bethel"?
One writer goes further. He reads the altar as a bid for God's approval of a settled life.
The altar comes next in the list, after the house and the field. At first it may look like a relief, something that makes the whole scene holy — the one good thing in the middle of the corruption. But it is perhaps the worst of all. It was not raised to Him who had appeared to him. There had been no communion between the Lord and Jacob at either Succoth or Shechem. Shechem was not Bethel… It looks like an attempt to get the Lord's approval of Jacob's loss of his separated, pilgrim character.
Commentators differ in tone. Some treat the altar as compromise dressed up as devotion. Others see real thanks that had not yet grown up.
One writer compares this name with the one Jacob gives later at Bethel.
The name of our altar and the character of our worship express the same idea. El-Bethel worship is higher than El-elohe-Israel worship, for this simple reason: it conveys a higher idea of God. True, there is beautiful grace in the title "God, the God of Israel." The soul is always glad to see God connect Himself with every single stone of His house and every single member of the body. But God is the God of His house. When our understanding grows enough to see Him that way, we enjoy a higher kind of worship than the worship that comes from only grasping what He is to us as individuals.
Another writer names what that half-way stop cost him.
This was only a half-way measure. There he bought a parcel of a field, a picture of a part of the world. It was not a large part, but it drew him into a compromise that brought sad results. He erected an altar there, but it was not because of God's word that he did so. God told him later to make an altar at Bethel… For it was still not God's honour he was chiefly seeking, but his own blessing. At Bethel his altar's name was "El-Bethel," "God of the house of God." There he finally learned that God's glory was more important than Jacob's blessing.
- Name — El-Elohe-Israel means "God, the God of Israel." Jacob ties his new name to a field he bought, not to Bethel, the place God had named.
- Direction — the phrase points the wrong way: God connected to Jacob, instead of Jacob connected to God.
- Limit — it is real thanks for a real blessing, but it names only what God had done for him, not who God is.
- Cost — an altar built where God had not spoken was only a half-way stop, and the compromise brought sad results.
- Growth — at Bethel he names his altar "God of the house of God." It is the same man worshipping a bigger God. Our worship is meant to grow the same way.
And Dinah the daughter of Leah, whom she had borne to Jacob, went out to see the daughters of the land.
Genesis 34 opens with one sentence about a girl paying a visit. Everything terrible in the chapter flows out of it. Commentators explain it by looking back a chapter — to where her father had chosen to live.
Dinah walks out from a settled home, not a tent. Writers trace the whole episode back to one decision. Jacob bought land in Canaan instead of travelling through it as his fathers had.
At Succoth, where our patriarch first arrived, he builds a house. Then at Shalem, in Shechem, he buys a field. Abraham and Isaac, truer to the call of God, never did this and never would have done it. How could he count on moral safety in such circumstances? Jacob had exchanged the tent for a house, and the pilgrim stranger had become a citizen and a property owner. … The Lord did not give Abraham so much land as to set his foot on (Acts 7:5); but here at Shalem in Shechem, Jacob will have a parcel of ground, and buys it for an inheritance.
The verse identifies Dinah by her mother and father before it says a word about what she did. That naming invites a comparison with the family she belonged to.
"Now Dinah the daughter of Leah, whom she had borne to Jacob, went out to see the women of the land." Genesis 34:1. Was this the way of the house of Abraham? Was this the family of the separated patriarch keeping the way of the Lord? Had Abraham been this careless? What dealings had he arranged for his children with either the sons or the daughters of the land?
If a father makes his home among a people, his daughter will want their company. Writers read Dinah's outing as the natural next move after Jacob's.
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. … Her father had settled down in the world instead of living as a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be friends with the world? … Who would have guessed that trading a tent for a house could produce such bitter fruit?
The blame is not laid on Jacob alone. One writer pictures a young girl left to herself among many brothers.
Jacob's only daughter no doubt had a difficult part to play among so many brothers. She may have been about fourteen or fifteen years old. Whether or not her parents approved, Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land. … What had she to do with them at all? Everyone but the godless knew that the people of the land would be judged in time, and that Abraham's descendants would own it. Their wickedness was great, though not yet full. … She seems to have been as independent of her mother as the young men certainly were of their father's advice. Her wandering curiosity exposed her to the young prince of the land, who was taken with her and, carried away by his passion, seduced her — if he did not force her.
Commentators differ on what happened next. One writer puts the blame in two places.
Jacob's sons, when they came home, were not only grieved but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame belonged not only to Shechem but to Dinah as well? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
The rest of the chapter is corruption first, then slaughter. Writers name the two streams evil has always run in.
The whole of Genesis 34 traces the unhappy results that came from the lowering of Jacob's separation from the world, which we have just noticed. Its evil effects showed up not in Jacob himself but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption. They are first mentioned in Genesis 6:12-13. … The world is just the same today. How often we have to hang our heads in shame and admit it. A little world-bordering on our part, as Christian parents, has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families. In this chapter the corruption comes first. … The anger came to a head in the atrocious violence of Simeon and Levi.
- House. Jacob traded a tent for a house and a bought field. So "the pilgrim stranger had become a citizen and a property owner." The first move in the chapter is his, not Dinah's.
- Habit. The verse names her parents on purpose. Abraham arranged no dealings for his children with the sons or daughters of the land. Jacob's household no longer looked like his.
- Heir. A daughter makes her father's address her own. Settle in the world, and children will want the world's friendship.
- Herself. She is not only a victim of her upbringing. Her "wandering curiosity" and independence from her mother exposed her. One writer says the blame was not Shechem's alone.
- Harvest. From one walk came corruption and then violence. Evil always runs in those two channels. A little world-bordering by parents can end in disaster at home.
And when Shechem, the son of Hamor the Hivite, the prince of the country, saw her, he took her, and lay with her, and humbled her.
Genesis 34 opens with Dinah going out to visit the local women, and this verse is where the trouble breaks. Behind Shechem's act stands a father who had bought land and built a house among these people. Commentators trace much of what follows back to that choice.
Commentators tie this scene to an earlier choice of Jacob's: he bought land at Shechem and built a house.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. So we find here as the consequence of Jacob's buying the land of the Hivite, and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He had to be unsettled before he would return to his pilgrim place. The way back was painful for all, and it brought Jacob deep shame, humiliation, and fear.
Another writer asks what fruit that settling produced.
Jacob seems to have grown weary of the pilgrim path, and yielded to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this action? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of living as a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be friends with the world? Who would have guessed that swapping a tent for a house could yield such bitter fruit?
The verse names him three ways: son of Hamor, a Hivite, and prince of the land. So who were the Hivites?
One of the races found early in Palestine: they were descendants of Ham through Canaan (Genesis 10:17). Jacob, on his return to Palestine, found Shechem occupied by the Hivites (Genesis 34:2). They also held the city of Gibeon, and managed to trick Joshua into making a treaty with them.
One writer asks what business Dinah had with these neighbours at all.
With or without the approval of her parents, Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land. What had she to do with them in any way? Everyone but the godless knew that judgment was coming on these people, and that Abraham's offspring would have the land. Their sin was great, though not yet full. Apart from that, how thoughtless and dangerous her behaviour was! She seems to have been as independent of her mother as her brothers certainly were of their father's advice.
The verse stacks three verbs: he "seized her and lay with her and humiliated her." Older translations read "took her ... and humbled her." Commentators differ over how much force was used. One reads it as seduction by a man carried away by desire, without ruling out violence.
Her wandering curiosity exposed her to the young prince of the land. He was taken with her and carried away by his passion. He seduced her, if he did not force her by violence.
Another writer asks whether her brothers weighed Dinah's own share of the blame.
The sons, when they came, were not only grieved but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame was not only Shechem's, but Dinah's also? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
One writer reads the whole chapter as the fruit of one compromise.
The whole of Genesis 34 shows the unhappy results that came from Jacob lowering his separation from the world. The evil showed itself not in Jacob himself, but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption. The world is just the same today. How often we have to hang our heads in shame and admit that we, as Christian parents, have kept too close to the world — and it has brought sorrow and even disaster into our families.
Another writer weighs Jacob's altar against his way of life.
His altar declares God to be his God (El-elohe-Israel). Yet it seems he uses this only to walk in his own ways more openly than before. His house at Succoth and the land he bought at Shechem tell the same story. He is hardly a pilgrim now. He loses his separateness, and Dinah is defiled. God's grace will not comfort those who will not use it in holiness.
One writer measures this household against Abraham's.
Was this the way of the house of Abraham? Was this the family of the separated patriarch keeping the way of the Lord? Had Abraham been this careless? What contact had he arranged for his children with the sons or the daughters of the land?
- Step — Jacob bought land at Shechem. One wrong step away from his place before the Lord opened the door to sin, scandal, and sorrow.
- Settling — a father who traded the tent for a house should expect his daughter to want the neighbours' friendship.
- Separateness — Jacob lost his separateness, and Dinah was left exposed. The Hivites were a Canaanite people already facing judgment.
- Shame — commentators differ on whether this was force or seduction. One asks whether the brothers weighed Dinah's own part.
- Spread — evil runs in two channels: violence and corruption. Both reached Jacob's family, and parents who stay close to the world still reap sorrow.
And his soul fastened on Dinah the daughter of Jacob, and he loved the maiden, and spoke consolingly to the maiden.
Genesis 34 opens with a wrong done to Jacob's only daughter. Verse 3 then turns to something unexpected: the man who wronged her is bound to her in love, and his words to her are gentle. The rest of the chapter grows out of that strange mix of real affection and real sin.
Commentators trace the whole episode back to one choice. Jacob stopped travelling and settled near the city.
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of living as a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be friends with the world?
One writer pictures Jacob as a cake baked on one side only — half of him belonging to the people around him, half to God.
The little leaven kneaded into the dough, left to work unseen, unjudged in the fire of God's light and love, would, but for grace, soon leaven the whole lump. "Jacob has mixed himself among the people; he is a cake not turned, half Shechemite, half Israelite, half judged, the other half untouched by fire."
Commentators differ on what happened between Shechem and Dinah. One reads her outing as reckless and leaves the question of force open.
With or without her parents' permission, Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land. Josephus claims there was a festival. What business had she with them at all? Everyone but the godless knew that judgment on these people would come one day, and that Abraham's descendants would possess the land. Their sin was great, though not yet full. Apart from that, how foolish and dangerous she was! She seems to have been as independent of her mother as the young men certainly were of any advice from their father. Her restless curiosity exposed her to the young prince of the land. His passion carried him away, and he seduced her if he did not force her.
Another writer says Dinah shared the blame — a question her brothers never stopped to ask.
The sons, when they came, were not only grieved but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame was not only Shechem's, but Dinah's too? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
Verse 3 sets Shechem apart from the man who takes and then discards.
The young man was guilty of this act of fornication. Even so, he did not reject her, as many would do. He seems to have truly loved her, and he spoke kindly to her.
That love then cost him something.
Hamor and Shechem fully agreed to the terms Jacob's sons proposed. Shechem in particular did not delay to be circumcised, because he loved Dinah. We are told he was more honourable than everyone in his father's household.
Verse 3's tenderness makes the rest of the chapter darker. The condition Shechem accepted was never meant as an invitation.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with deceit, making circumcision the condition for every male. They had not the slightest thought or wish of bringing the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as much as it ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah was at fault too.
The damage did not stop with the two young people.
So the shameful story of Genesis 34 caused Jacob to "stink to the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land who truly knew God. It also brought judgment on the two who drove the violence. In later days the tribe of Levi acted in a way that won a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what was at first a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." They were divided — but by Levi being called to special service and scattered through all the tribes.
- Settle — Jacob traded the tent for a house near the city. His daughter then wanted the friendships that choice put within reach.
- Stray — Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land. Commentators call this foolish and dangerous. They differ over whether what followed was seduction or force.
- Sin — the wrong was real, yet at least one writer insists the blame was not Shechem's alone.
- Love — verse 3 shows affection that looks real. Shechem did not discard her, he spoke kindly, and he paid the price asked of him without delay.
- Loss — Jacob's sons answered that sincerity with treachery, and the whole house paid. Jacob stank to the people of the land, and judgment fell on his sons. Yet God later turned that curse on Levi into a blessing.
And Shechem spoke to his father Hamor, saying, Take me this girl as wife.
Shechem has already taken Dinah, and now he wants her as his wife, so he asks his father to arrange it. That one request soon grows into an offer that puts Jacob's whole family at risk.
Shechem's request did not come out of nowhere. The trouble in this chapter began before Shechem ever saw Dinah.
The whole of Genesis 34 is filled with the unhappy results of Jacob lowering his separation from the world. The evil effects did not show in Jacob himself, but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption... The world is just the same today. How often we, as Christian parents, have to hang our heads in shame. We must admit that a little compromise with the world on our part has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families.
Measured against the family's own past, Dinah's outing was already out of character.
"And Dinah, the daughter of Leah, whom she bore to Jacob, went out to see the daughters of the land." Genesis 34:1. Was this the way of the house of Abraham? Was this the family of the separated patriarch keeping the way of the Lord? Had Abraham been this slack? What contact had he arranged for his children with either the sons or the daughters of the land?
Shechem's request to his father soon grew into an offer to merge the two peoples. That is where the danger lay.
When Shechem saw Dinah he said to his father, "Get me this girl for my wife." So Hamor asked Jacob. Jacob and his sons all knew they should not agree, but they spoke deceitfully. Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested the two peoples might be one, living in the land, trading, and marrying together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate." (2 Corinthians 6:17.) The world says, "We may be one."
Dinah had no business among these people, and Shechem did not treat her as a passing conquest.
What did she have to do with them at all? All but the godless knew that the time for judgment on these people would come, and that Abraham's descendants would possess the land. Their sin was great, though not yet full... Her wandering curiosity exposed her to the young prince of the land. He was taken with her, and his passion carried him away. He seduced her, if he did not force her. Meanwhile Shechem was eager for marriage at any price. His father went to Jacob and pleaded hard for his son's fixed desire to have her as wife. He offered the readiest terms of peace between the two peoples, while Shechem pressed his own case.
Commentators differ on how far force went. Kelly leaves it open. L. M. Grant sees a real fondness in verse 3, following a real sin.
She became sexually involved with a young man, son of the prince of that land. The young man was guilty of fornication. Even so, he did not reject her afterwards, as many would do. He seems to have truly loved her, and he spoke kindly to her (v. 3).
The wrong was not all on one side. And the answer Jacob's sons gave was itself a lie.
Jacob's sons then answered with a trick. They made circumcision of every male their condition. They had not the smallest thought or wish of bringing the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them... Shechem was guilty of a great wrong, but Dinah too was at fault. Their own mothers and their grandmother did not come from circumcised fathers, and no godly or careful reluctance had appeared in their own marriages. The condition was a lying and cowardly excuse, used to carry their resentment through to the end.
The story did not end there. Jacob was still speaking of it on his deathbed.
The anger came to a head in the terrible violence of Simeon and Levi. Jacob never forgot it, and neither did God. At the end of his life Jacob spoke of his sons as a prophet. He foretold the future of the tribes and gave certain blessings. He condemned these two sons and cursed their anger, as recorded in Genesis 49:5-7.
- Settling. Jacob let his separation from the world slip; the trouble showed up not in him but in his children.
- Straying. Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land — behaviour unthinkable in Abraham's household.
- Seizing. Shechem took her first and asked afterwards, pressing his father to secure the marriage at any price.
- Merging. The request grew into an offer to be one people, marrying and trading together. The world still makes that offer to God's people.
- Reaping. Jacob's sons answered with deceit. Violence followed, and Jacob was still cursing that anger on his deathbed.
And Jacob heard that he had defiled Dinah his daughter; but his sons were with his cattle in the fields, and Jacob said nothing until they came.
News of Dinah's disgrace reaches Jacob first, while his sons are still out with the livestock. He says nothing, and his silence hands the crisis to them.
The chapter's grief did not begin with Shechem. It began earlier. Jacob stopped travelling, built a house and bought land instead of going on to Bethel. One writer ties the daughter's wandering to her father's choice of home:
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of living as a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. So what could be more natural than his daughter wanting to be friends with the world? We all know the sad, shameful result. Who would have guessed that trading a tent for a house could bear such bitter fruit? Yet so it is. In our day, friendship with the world still means being an enemy of God. If we settle down in this world and lose the pilgrim spirit, we can hardly blame our children for seeking the friendship of the people we have settled among.
The verse is careful about timing. Jacob knows before Hamor arrives, and he waits for sons who are not yet home.
Jacob had heard the news before Hamor came, but had said nothing, waiting till his sons returned from their work in the field before saying anything at all about the shame of Shechem's sin with Dinah.
Not every writer reads that silence kindly. One speaks straight to Jacob, and the silence closes a list of failures:
At Shechem you buy a field, and Dinah is defiled by Shechem; your sons act by deceit, and Simeon and Levi — instruments of cruelty, fierce anger and cruel wrath — are cursed: and you hold your peace! You are a foolish dove without heart!
Commentators do not lay the whole weight on Shechem. The sons come home grieved and angry, and one writer asks what their anger overlooked.
The sons, when they came, were not only grieved but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame was not only Shechem's, but Dinah's also? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
Another writer looks at Dinah too, and at how little her parents counted at home. Commentators differ on whether force was used:
With or without her parents' permission, Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land. What business did she have with them at all? Everyone but the godless knew that judgment would come on these people one day, and that the descendants of Abraham would take the land. She seems to have been as independent of her mother as the young men clearly were of their father's advice. Her restless curiosity exposed her to the young prince of the land. He was taken with her and carried away by his passion, and he seduced her if he did not force her. Her poor father was silent until the sons came back from work.
Because Jacob waited, his sons answered Hamor instead of him. Their offer used the language of the covenant to hide a plan for slaughter.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with guile, setting the condition that every male be circumcised. They had no thought or wish at all of bringing the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as it did their father.
One writer sees Jacob meeting his own past in his sons:
After Peniel, Jacob built a house at Succoth and bought a piece of land instead of going on to Bethel. If he had gone to Bethel, perhaps this sad event would never have happened. God permitted it for the humbling of His servant Jacob. Again he reaps what he had sown, and the father's deceit is reflected in the deceit of some of his sons.
The story does not stop at ruin. The curse spoken over Simeon and Levi was not the last word:
In later days the tribe of Levi acted in a way that gained a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what was once a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." They were divided — but the division came through Levi's call to special service and Levi's scattering throughout all the tribes.
- Settle — Jacob traded the tent for a house. His daughter's wandering followed his settling.
- Hear — the news reaches Jacob first, and he waits for sons still in the field.
- Silence — writers differ on that silence; one calls the waiting father a foolish dove without heart.
- Seize — the sons fill the gap. Their grief was real, but their plan was treachery, and their father knew nothing of it.
- Salvage — the curse scattered Levi, and God turned that scattering into service.
And Hamor the father of Shechem came out to Jacob, to speak to him.
Genesis 34 finds Jacob camped beside a Canaanite city instead of at Bethel. In verse 6 the city walks into his camp: Hamor, the local ruler and father of the man who has violated Dinah, comes out to talk terms. Commentators read this quiet verse as the price of where Jacob had chosen to live.
Hamor's arrival was no accident. Writers trace it back to the land Jacob bought and the house he built near Shechem, instead of living in a tent.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. So we find here, as the result of Jacob buying the land of the Hivite and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He had to be unsettled to bring him back to his place as a pilgrim; but the way was painful for all, and brought deep shame, humiliation and fear to Jacob.
Trouble now came to Jacob from the household he had been busy protecting. One writer sets that beside his silence, and raises a question the family never asked itself.
Jacob had been concerned about his own house. Now he must learn through painful experience that when he puts his house first, he will find trouble and sorrow from his house. Jacob had heard the news before Hamor came, but had said nothing. He waited till his sons returned from their work in the field before speaking at all about the shame of Shechem's sin with Dinah. The sons, when they came, were not only grieved but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame was not only Shechem's, but Dinah's also? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
Hamor does not arrive as an enemy. He comes as a father speaking for a son, and, by his own standards, doing the decent thing.
Shechem earnestly sought marriage at any price, and his father went to Jacob. He pleaded hard for his son's fixed desire to have her as wife, and offered the readiest terms of peace between the two peoples, while Shechem urged his own case.
The terms go far past one marriage. Hamor proposes that the two peoples merge, and one writer hears in that a voice still speaking today.
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things, and suggested they might be one people and live in the land and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Therefore go out from their midst, and be separate from them, says the Lord" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
Hamor could make such a proposal because the two households were no longer separate. Years later Jacob saw what his time at Shechem had produced.
He finds out, at the end, the real character of all this, the fruit of his living at Shechem. In self-will a man had been killed there, and a fence thrown down. But surely Jacob himself had dug down God's fence before. God's call had raised a wall between the clean and the unclean, between the circumcised people and the Gentiles. Jacob himself had broken that wall down in spirit when he settled as a citizen or property owner on the land he had bought at Shechem. And Simeon and Levi may finish the job as soon afterwards as they please.
The story does not end in shame. Writers see God using that shame to move Jacob on to Bethel.
Jacob is made to feel the shame and humiliation of the position he had chosen for himself. Then the word of the Lord falls freely on his soul, and the discipline has prepared him to respond to it. "Arise," says the Lord, "go up to Bethel and dwell there. Make an altar there to the God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau." Jacob, leaving Shechem for Bethel, leaves all his defilements behind him. The idols have to be left at Shechem; they cannot be taken to Bethel.
- Settling. Jacob stopped being a pilgrim and became a neighbour. He bought land and built a house short of Bethel, so the city could walk into his camp.
- Silence. Jacob heard about Dinah before Hamor arrived and said nothing. He waited for his sons, and their anger filled the space he left.
- Proposal. Hamor came pleading for his son and offering easy terms of peace. By his own standards, this was the honourable way to settle it.
- Merger. The real offer was that the two peoples become one, with no difference left. The world still makes that offer; Scripture answers it with the call to come out and be separate.
- Return. The shame worked as discipline. It drove Jacob out of Shechem toward Bethel, and the idols could not travel with him.
And the sons of Jacob came from the fields when they heard [it]; and the men were grieved, and they were very angry, because he had wrought what was disgraceful in Israel, in lying with Jacob's daughter, which thing ought not to be done.
Jacob's sons hear the news and hurry in from the field. Shechem has shamed their sister, and the men are furious. Two questions follow. How did a family under God's promise end up here? And was their anger the same thing as righteousness?
One writer traces the whole disaster to an earlier choice. Jacob bought land at Shechem and built himself a house.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. So we find here, as the consequence of Jacob's buying the land of the Hivite and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He had to be unsettled to bring him back to his pilgrim place. But the way back was painful for everyone, and it brought deep shame, humiliation and fear on Jacob.
Dinah had gone out among the local women. Another writer holds that against the household Abraham kept.
Was this the way of the house of Abraham? Was this the family of the separated patriarch keeping the way of the Lord? Had Abraham been this slack? What contact had he arranged for his children with either the sons or the daughters of the land?
Compromise rarely stops with the person who makes it.
The whole of Genesis 34 deals with the unhappy results that sprang from the lowering of Jacob's separation from the world. The evil did not show itself in Jacob but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption... The world is just the same today. How often we, as Christian parents, must hang our heads in shame and admit that a little closeness to the world on our part has brought sorrow and even disaster into our families.
The verse does not merely report an offence; it labels it, and the label attaches to the whole household. (Older translations read "folly wrought in Israel"; the ESV renders it "an outrageous thing in Israel.")
"So here was folly wrought in Israel… which ought not to have been done" — a matter of grief and wrath — a horrible thing in Israel. "Israel is defiled and Jacob holds his peace."
Jacob waited for his sons before he said anything. Their grief was real, but one writer asks whether they weighed their sister's part in it too.
Jacob had heard the news before Hamor came, but said nothing. He waited until his sons returned from their work in the field before he spoke at all about the shame of Shechem's sin with Dinah. The sons, when they came, were not only grieved, but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame was not only Shechem's, but Dinah's also? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
Grief that looked like family loyalty turned into a plan. The brothers used circumcision, the sign of God's covenant, as bait.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with deceit. They set the condition that every male among the Shechemites be circumcised. They had no thought or wish of inviting these men into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God, just as it ignored their father.
The story does not end with the raid. Judgment fell on the brothers who led the violence — and God did not leave it there.
The shameful story of Genesis 34 made Jacob "stink among the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land who had the true knowledge of God. It also brought judgment on the two men who led the violence. Yet in later days the tribe of Levi acted in such a way as to gain a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what was first a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel" (49:7). They were divided — but the division came when God called Levi to special service and scattered him through all the tribes.
- Step — It starts before verse 7. One move away from the pilgrim place, a house at Shechem, and ten settled years.
- Soil — Closeness to the world bore fruit in the family: corruption and violence. The parents' compromise showed itself in the children.
- Sentence — The verse calls the deed folly in Israel, a thing that must not be done. The shame touched the whole household, not one man.
- Sword — The brothers' grief was real. It hardened into pride and revenge that ignored God and their father alike.
- Scattering — The judgment stood, and God scattered Levi. Yet He turned that scattering into service — a curse becoming a blessing.
And Hamor spoke to them, saying, My son Shechem's soul cleaves to your daughter I pray you, give her to him as wife.
Jacob's family has settled near the city of Shechem, and the ruler's son, also named Shechem, has already violated Jacob's only daughter, Dinah. Now the young man's father, Hamor, comes to talk terms. His first words are not an apology. He asks for the girl in marriage — and that is only the opening move in a much larger proposal.
In the Bible the "soul" is where a person's affections sit. One writer gathers the verses that show this, and Hamor's plea heads his list:
So it is the seat of the affections: Genesis 34:8 — the soul of my son longs for your daughter. 1 Samuel 18:1 — the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David. Psalm 42:1 — so my soul pants for You, O God. Psalm 84:2 — my soul longs for the courts of the Lord.
Hamor does not come as an equal making a business offer. He comes as a father begging, and he brings peace terms with him:
Meanwhile Shechem was eager to marry her at any price. His father went to Jacob and pleaded hard for his son's fixed desire to have her as wife. He offered the easiest terms of peace between the two peoples, while Shechem pressed his own case.
Read on its own, the proposal looks decent. Shechem wants to marry Dinah, not discard her. His father treats it as a matter a good offer can settle:
Hamor came at this time to tell them that Shechem had real affection for Dinah and wanted to marry her. At the same time he invited them to remain in the land and have their families intermarry. No doubt to the mind of Hamor this was the honourable way to meet the question. Shechem adds to this that he is willing to pay any dowry that they might ask of him for Dinah.
Hamor's plea does not stay personal for long. It opens into a plan to merge two peoples, and commentators see the same pressure on Christians today:
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested they might be one people, live in the land, trade there, and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. O Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
The chapter's trouble did not begin with Hamor's speech. It began earlier, when Jacob stopped travelling and bought land:
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this action? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of passing through it as a heavenly pilgrim. What could be more natural than his daughter wanting to be friends with the world?
Hamor's plea met an answer that sounded religious but was a trap:
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with a deceitful condition: every male must be circumcised. They had not the smallest wish to bring the men of Shechem into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as it did their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah too was at fault.
The defilement, the marriage offer, the slaughter — one writer traces it all back to a single earlier choice:
The whole of Genesis 34 is filled with the unhappy results that came from Jacob lowering his separation from the world... The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption... The world is just the same today. How often we have to hang our heads in shame and admit that a little settling on the edge of the world, as Christian parents, has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families.
- Settle — Jacob swapped the pilgrim's tent for a home near a Canaanite city. He lowered his separation from the world before any of the damage came.
- Stray — a father who settles in the world should expect his daughter to want the friendship of the neighbours he chose.
- Sweeten — Hamor's plea mixes real affection with easy terms: any dowry, trade, land, marriage between the families. It looked to him like the honourable solution.
- Merge — behind the plea for one girl lies the real proposal: one people, no difference. The world still makes Christians that offer.
- Reap — Jacob's sons answered with treachery dressed as religion, and the city paid for it in blood.
And make marriages with us give your daughters to us, and take our daughters to you.
Jacob's daughter Dinah has been wronged, and the father of the man who did it now comes with an offer. It reaches far past one wedding: trading daughters would blend the two families into one people.
Hamor does not come as an enemy. He comes as a neighbour who thinks he is doing the decent thing by Dinah's family.
Hamor came at this time to tell them that Shechem had real affection for Dinah and wanted to marry her. At the same time he invited them to remain in the land and have their families intermarry. No doubt to the mind of Hamor this was the honorable way to meet the question. Shechem adds to this that he is willing to pay any dowry that they might ask of him for Dinah.
The offer is not only about Dinah. Give daughters and take daughters, and in a generation the two families are one. Commentators hear in it the same offer the world still makes.
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested that they might be one people, living in the land, trading, and marrying together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. O Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Cor. 6:17). The world says, "We may be one."
Nobody offers a merger to a man who is only passing through. Jacob had bought land at Shechem and settled on it, and that is what made Hamor's offer possible. The wall was already down, and Jacob had taken it down himself.
In self-will a man had been killed there, and a fence thrown down. But surely Jacob himself had dug down God's fence before. God's call had raised a wall between the clean and the unclean, between the circumcised and the Gentile. Jacob himself, in spirit, had broken that wall down when he settled at Shechem as a citizen and landowner on the estate he had bought.
The cost of Jacob's settling did not fall on him first. It fell on his children.
The whole of Genesis 34 is taken up with the unhappy results that sprang from Jacob lowering his separation from the world... The world is just the same today. How often we have to hang our heads in shame and admit that a little living on the world's border, on our part as Christian parents, has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families.
Jacob's sons answer Hamor with a condition of their own. Saying no to the world's terms is right; saying no by treachery is a second evil.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with guile, making circumcision for every male their condition. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as they ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah too was in fault. Neither their mothers nor their grandmother came from circumcised fathers, and no reverent or careful reluctance showed itself in their own marriages. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry out their resentment to the full.
The remedy is not a small repair at Shechem. God calls Jacob away from it, up to Bethel.
"God said to Jacob, 'Arise, go up to Bethel and dwell there.'" When there is failure or decline, the Lord calls the soul back to Himself... The soul must be recalled to the very highest point; it must be brought back to the divine standard. The Lord does not say, "remember where you are"; no, but "remember the lofty position from which you have fallen."
- Fence. God's call drew a line between Jacob's family and Canaan. Jacob pulled it down himself when he bought land at Shechem and settled there.
- Offer. With the line gone, Hamor could propose marriage between the families, and any dowry they asked. By local custom it looked honourable.
- Merger. The real ask was not one wedding but "one people". The world still makes the same offer: let there be no difference left.
- Harvest. The cost fell on the children. Dinah was wronged, and her brothers turned circumcision into a lying pretext for massacre.
- Return. The answer is not damage control at Shechem. God calls Jacob up to Bethel — back to the highest point, not the nearest one.
And dwell with us, and the land shall be before you dwell and trade in it, and get yourselves possessions in it.
Hamor answers the wrong done to Dinah with a business offer. Settle here, trade here, buy land here, and let our families marry. It sounds generous, but Jacob was only ever meant to be passing through.
Nothing in Hamor's approach is hostile. He comes pleading, and his son offers to pay anything asked.
Shechem earnestly sought marriage at any price. His father went to Jacob, pleading hard for his son's fixed desire to have Dinah as wife. He offered the readiest terms of peace between the peoples, and Shechem urged for himself.
Hamor is not inviting a stranger. Jacob had already bought ground there and built himself a house.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. So we find here, as the consequence of Jacob's buying the land of the Hivite and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He has to be unsettled to get him back to his pilgrim place. But the way was painful for all, and a deep shame, humiliation and fear for Jacob.
One writer traces Dinah's wandering back to her father's choice of a house over a tent.
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this action? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of being a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be friends with the world? We all know the sad, shameful result. Who would have guessed that swapping a tent for a house could produce such bitter fruit?
Behind the trade and the property, Hamor asks for one people. One writer hears the same voice in the world today.
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested they might be one people, live in the land and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today — they want Christians to be one with them, no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Cor. 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Tim. 2:19).
When Hamor takes the plan home, he sells it to his neighbours on profit.
All no doubt recognised that circumcision had a religious meaning. They would not be in the least suspicious of any hidden design against them. Besides, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area, and everyone would benefit from them (vv. 20-23). These were persuasive arguments, and the men of the city fully agreed, so that all of them were circumcised.
Jacob's sons did not accept the offer and did not refuse it. They used circumcision as bait.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with the deceitful condition of circumcision for every male. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as they ignored their father.
The invitation to live and trade among them ended with those same neighbours loathing Jacob.
So the shameful story of Genesis 34 caused Jacob to "stink to the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land who truly knew God. It also brought judgment on the two who drove the violence. It is interesting that in later days the tribe of Levi acted in such a way as to gain a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what was at first a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel" (49:7). They were divided — but by Levi being called to special service and scattered through all the tribes. The first verse of Genesis 35 shows us how God stepped in when things had reached this sorry state. He called Jacob back to the place where God first made Himself known to him. There he was to live, and there his altar was to be.
- Settle — Jacob bought land and built a house where he should have stayed a pilgrim. One wrong step opened the door to the rest.
- Invite — the world's offer arrives dressed as kindness: live here, trade here, own here, and marry among us.
- Merge — the real request is that there be no difference. Scripture's call is to come out and be separate.
- Profit — the townsmen had their own reason to say yes: Jacob's wealth.
- Reap — deceit answered deceit, and the land came to loathe Jacob. Yet God later turned even the curse on Levi into blessing.
And Shechem said to her father and to her brethren, Let me find favour in your eyes; and what ye shall say to me I will give.
Genesis 34 opens with Jacob's daughter Dinah going out to visit the women of the land. By verse 11 the prince who wronged her stands before her father and brothers, asking for their goodwill and offering to pay any price they name.
Shechem is not brushing the matter aside. He wants Dinah as his wife at any price. He pleads with the brothers because their father has stayed silent.
With or without her parents' permission, Dinah went out to see the daughters of the land… Her wandering curiosity exposed her to the young prince of the land. He was taken with her and carried away by his passion. He seduced her, if he did not take her by force. Her poor father stayed silent until his sons came back from work. Meanwhile Shechem pushed hard for marriage at any price. His father went to Jacob and pleaded for his son's fixed desire to have her as his wife. He offered the readiest terms of peace between the two peoples, while Shechem pressed his own case.
The promise is not vague generosity. Shechem is naming a known custom, spelled out in the next verse as the bride-price.
The sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife. Genesis 34:12; Exodus 22:16-17; 1 Samuel 18:25… The dowry which Jacob gave for his wives was seven years' service for each. Genesis 29:18, 27.
Jacob had once paid such a price himself. Now a man offers a price for his daughter.
Shechem and Hamor hoped generous terms would repair the damage. Instead the anger grew.
His daughter Dinah wanted to enjoy the company and pleasures of the other young women of the land. As a result she became entangled and defiled. This stirred up great anger among Jacob's sons. What Shechem and Hamor did to repair the damage did not calm it. The anger came to a head in the terrible violence of Simeon and Levi, which Jacob never forgot, nor did God. At the end of his life Jacob spoke as a prophet about his sons. He foretold the future of the tribes and gave certain blessings. He condemned these two sons and cursed their anger, as recorded in Genesis 49:5-7.
Verse 11 is one line in a much larger offer. One writer hears in that offer a voice Christians still hear today.
Hamor promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested that they might be one people, live in the land, trade, and marry together. Just like the world today, they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
The brothers answered his open-handed plea with words that sounded religious. They were a trap.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with a deceitful condition: every male must be circumcised. They had not the slightest thought or wish of bringing the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and slaughter them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah was at fault too… The condition was a lying, cowardly pretext. It let them carry their resentment to the limit.
Why was such a proposal even on the table? Because Jacob's family had already dropped the separation that should have kept the two households apart.
In self-will a man had been killed there, and a fence had been thrown down. But it was Jacob himself who had dug down God's fence first. God's call had raised a dividing wall between the clean and the unclean. Jacob broke that wall down in spirit when he settled as a citizen and landowner on his purchased estate at Shechem. And Simeon and Levi may finish the job as soon afterwards as they please.
- Compromise — Jacob broke God's fence first, settling and buying land at Shechem. His sons only finished what he had started.
- Corruption — Dinah's visit to the daughters of the land left her entangled and defiled. That is the wrong verse 11 tries to settle.
- Compensation — Shechem offers the bride-price, the sum a man paid the woman's relatives. Jacob had paid it himself, with fourteen years of work.
- Confederacy — the payment hid a bigger proposal. Two peoples become one, sharing land and marriages. That is the world's standing invitation. Scripture answers it: "go out from their midst, and be separate
- Cost — the brothers answered with treachery dressed as covenant, and Jacob cursed their anger on his deathbed. The whole chain started when Jacob settled down instead of staying separate.
Impose on me very much as dowry and gift, and I will give according as ye shall say to me; but give me the maiden as wife.
Shechem has sinned with Jacob's daughter Dinah, and now he offers her family any price they care to name. Two questions follow: can money settle a wrong, and how did Jacob's family end up here at all?
Writers trace the whole chapter back to one choice by Jacob, and to what it cost his daughter:
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of being a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be friends with the world?
The bride-price Shechem names had a fixed meaning in that world:
The sum paid by a man to the relatives of the woman who becomes his wife. Genesis 34:12; Exodus 22:16-17; 1 Samuel 18:25... The dowry which Jacob gave for his wives was seven years' service for each. Genesis 29:18, 27.
Shechem puts no ceiling on the sum, and his father comes to Jacob's family to arrange it:
Hamor came at this time to tell them that Shechem had real affection for Dinah and wanted to marry her. At the same time he invited them to remain in the land and have their families intermarry. No doubt to the mind of Hamor this was the honorable way to meet the question. Shechem adds that he is willing to pay any dowry they might ask of him for Dinah.
The trouble started before any offer was made:
His daughter Dinah wanted to enjoy the companionship and pleasures of the other young women of the land. As a result she got entangled and defiled. This aroused great anger among Jacob's sons. What Shechem and Hamor did to repair the damage did not calm it.
The money came attached to a wider proposal:
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested that the two peoples might become one, and live in the land, and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Corinthians 6:17).
Grant does not lay all the blame on Shechem:
The sons, when they came, were not only grieved but very angry at Shechem. Did they not stop to think that the blame was not only Shechem's, but Dinah's also? For though this was sin, it was not rape.
Shechem's open offer met a closed reply. The brothers named a religious condition they had no intention of honouring:
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with deceit. They set one condition: every male must be circumcised. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as much as it ignored their father. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext, used to push their resentment as far as it would go. Hamor and Shechem fell into the trap. They had enough influence to persuade all their townsmen to join them in the painful rite, and in the danger they never saw coming.
The cost of that day did not end with the city, and judgment was not God's last word on it:
The shameful story of Genesis 34 made Jacob "stink to the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land who had the true knowledge of God. It also brought judgment on the two men who promoted the violence. Yet in later days the tribe of Levi acted in a way that won them a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what was once a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel" (Genesis 49:7). They were divided — but by Levi being called to special service and scattered through all the tribes.
- Settled. Jacob grew tired of the pilgrim path and built a home in the world.
- Exposed. A father who settles in the world should not be surprised when his daughter looks for friends there.
- Offered. The dowry was the normal payment to a bride's family. Shechem lifted every limit on it to get Dinah.
- Unrepaired. No payment repairs a defilement. Nothing Shechem and Hamor offered calmed the brothers' anger.
- Compounded. The brothers' deceitful reply ignored God and their father, and judgment followed. Yet God later turned that curse on Levi into a blessing.
And the sons of Jacob answered Shechem and Hamor his father deceitfully, and spoke -- because he had defiled Dinah their sister --
Genesis 34 opens with Jacob's family living too close to the city of Shechem. By verse 13, talks about Dinah's marriage have turned into a trap. The verse calls the answer to Shechem and his father Hamor deceitful, and it gives the reason: he had defiled their sister. A real wrong had been done, and the response to it was a lie.
The trouble did not begin with the answer of Jacob's sons. It began earlier, in how close the family had settled to the world around them.
The whole of Genesis 34 deals with the unhappy results of Jacob lowering his separation from the world. Its evil effects showed up not in Jacob himself but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption. The world is just the same today. As Christian parents, we often have to hang our heads in shame and admit it. A little flirting with the world on our part has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families.
The condition they set — circumcision for every male — sounded like a religious requirement. It was nothing of the sort.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with cunning and set the condition of circumcision for every male. They had no thought or wish of bringing the men of Shechem into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, designed to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as it ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong, but Dinah too was at fault. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry their resentment to the utmost.
Circumcision was no small thing. It marked this family off from the nations around them. In verse 13 they lay that sign on the table as a bargaining chip. One writer weighs what they traded away, and what they traded it for.
In crafty malice and greed for gain, Israel's sons hand over to these men God's own title to the land. And the man who thought that title so worthless that he based his claim on another man's rights would think little of trading circumcision away for treasure in this world. Circumcision is the reproach of Christ, separation from the ungodly world, the seal of faith, the sign of God's inheritance.
The brothers wrapped their revenge in religious language. One writer weighs the damage that does.
They are joined together and deceitful, as religious bigotry always is… In these terrible crusades the innocent suffer with the guilty — the innocent ox along with the guilty Shechem. And Shechem was not half as bad as they were. The worst part of this crime is that they do it in the name of God, religious order and separation. So they drag religion into the contempt of unthinking minds. They manage to wrong the world and the church at the same time.
One writer traces the whole event back to a journey Jacob never finished.
After his experience at Peniel, Jacob built a house at Succoth and bought a plot of land instead of going on to Bethel. If he had gone to Bethel, perhaps this sad event would never have happened. God allowed it to humble His servant Jacob. Again he reaps what he had sown, and the deceit of the father is reflected in the deceit of some of his sons.
The deceit of verse 13 led to a massacre, and the two brothers behind it faced judgment for it. Yet the story does not close there.
So the shameful story of Genesis 34 made Jacob "stink to the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position, since he was the only man in the land with the true knowledge of God. It also brought judgment on the two who promoted the violence. Yet in later days the tribe of Levi acted in such a way as to gain a special blessing. So we see how God can turn what was first a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." They were divided — but God did it by calling Levi to special service and scattering that tribe through all the others.
- Settle — Jacob lowered his separation from the world and settled beside a Canaanite city. The damage showed up in his children, not in him.
- Sin — Shechem's wrong against Dinah was real, and one writer says Dinah was at fault too. A real grievance did not excuse the answer her brothers gave.
- Scheme — The offer in verse 13 never invited anyone into the covenant. It was a lying pretext that used God's sign as bait. Jacob had no part in the secret.
- Stain — Evil done in the name of God, order and separation wrongs the world and the people of God at once. It drags religion into contempt.
- Salvage — Jacob reaped his own deceit in his sons, and judgment followed. Yet God later turned Levi's scattering from a curse into special service.
and said to them, We cannot do this, to give our sister to one that is uncircumcised; for that [were] a reproach to us.
Hamor has just asked for Dinah and proposed that the two families intermarry. Jacob's sons refuse in the language of a people set apart — but their words hide a plan, and the sign of God's covenant is about to become a bargaining chip.
Their answer was deceitful from the start. Commentators read the whole speech as a trap laid under religious words:
But the sons of Jacob were far from honourable in the way they answered. No doubt Jacob did not suspect their motives at all. But it was with cruel deceit that they told Shechem and Hamor their terms. They would agree to Hamor's suggestion only if all the males of the land accepted circumcision. They even promised that, if the men did this, they would live together as one people and be willing to intermarry with the local people there.
The brothers' own family history exposes the excuse:
Not the smallest thought or wish had they for inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the lowest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Their pride and revenge ignored God as it did their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah too was in fault. Their own mothers and their grandmother were daughters of uncircumcised men. And no godly or sensitive reluctance showed in their own marriages. They set the condition as a lying, cowardly excuse, so they could carry their resentment as far as it could go.
The brothers call the match a disgrace to them. Yet circumcision carried a meaning of its own, and that is what they sold:
In crafty malice and greed for gain, Israel's sons hand over to these men God's title to the land. And the one who valued that title so little that he based his claim on another's rights would hardly hesitate to trade circumcision away for treasure in the world. Circumcision was the reproach of Christ, separation from the world of the ungodly, the seal of faith, the sign of God's inheritance.
The brothers speak as though a wall still stood between their family and the people of the land. It did not. Their father had taken it down himself by settling at Shechem:
In self-will a man was killed there, and a fence thrown down. But Jacob himself had dug down God's fence first. The call of God had raised a wall between the clean and the unclean, between the circumcised and the Gentile. Jacob himself, in spirit, had broken that wall down when he settled as a citizen or landowner on his purchased estate at Shechem. And Simeon and Levi may complete this, as soon afterwards as they please.
The same writer turns the verse's own word back on the speakers:
What we see here is an uncircumcised Jacob, not circumcised Shechemites.
The brothers made their demand in God's name, so the crime that followed carried a second offence:
They plot together and deceive, as religious bigotry always does. Every genuinely religious person will join Jacob in disowning them. The innocent suffer with the guilty in these cursed crusades — the innocent ox along with the guilty Shechem — though Shechem was not half as bad as they were. The worst of this crime is that they do it in the name of God, religious order and separation. So they make thoughtless people hate religion. In this way they manage to wrong the world and the church at the same time.
Both sides aim at the same outcome: no difference between the two peoples. The same pull is still at work today:
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested that they might be one people, live in the land and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Cor. 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Tim. 2:19).
- Cause — Jacob pulled the fence of separation down himself when he settled at Shechem. His sons' fine words defended a boundary the family had already left.
- Pretext — "We cannot do this thing" was a lying, cowardly excuse. The brothers had no wish to bring anyone into the covenant. They wanted a trap.
- Barter — Circumcision was the seal of faith and the sign of separation from the ungodly. Here the brothers trade it away for revenge and gain.
- Cover — The worst part was doing it in the name of God and separation. That wrongs the world and God's people at once.
- Call — The world keeps saying, "let us be one, no difference." God keeps calling His people to come out and be separate.
But only in this will we consent to you, if ye will be as we, that every male of you be circumcised;
Shechem wants to marry Dinah, and his father Hamor has asked Jacob's family to join with his people as one. The sons answer with a single condition — circumcision — and the chapter shows what happens when people use a holy sign for an unholy purpose.
The terms sound like an invitation into the covenant. They were nothing of the kind.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with guile, setting the condition that every male be circumcised. They had not the smallest thought or wish of bringing the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father. … The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry their resentment to the limit.
The sons' offer came with a promise and a threat.
No doubt Jacob did not suspect their motives at all. But their words to Shechem and Hamor were cruel deceit. They said they could only agree to Hamor's suggestion if all the males of the land were circumcised. They even promised that if the men were circumcised, they would live together as one people, willing to marry the local people. If the men would not agree to be circumcised, the brothers said they would take Dinah with them and leave the country.
They offered God's own mark on His people as an entry fee. That mark meant the opposite of the merger on the table.
Circumcision was the rite appointed by God as a token of the covenant that He made with Abraham and his descendants. It was also the seal of the righteousness of his faith… It signified the separation of a people from the world to God… Against God's design, circumcision became a mere formal act when the covenant itself was ignored.
So they offered the sign of separation as the price of mixing. They kept the form and emptied out the meaning.
Hamor wanted the merger too, and he made it sound attractive. One writer sees the same pressure on Christians today.
Jacob and his sons all knew they should not agree, but they spoke deceitfully. Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things, and suggested they might be one people and live in the land and trade and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
The trouble started before any of this. Jacob had settled at Shechem.
The whole of Genesis 34 is filled with the unhappy results that sprang from the lowering of Jacob's separation from the world. Its effects for evil were not seen in Jacob himself, but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption… The world is just the same today. How often we have to hang our heads in shame and confess that a little compromise with the world on our part, as Christian parents, has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families.
When the trouble came, Jacob looked at his sons rather than at himself.
Instead of looking at Simeon and Levi, or at the consequences of their rash action, he should have judged himself for being in such a position at all. If he had not settled at Shechem, no one would have dishonoured Dinah, and his sons would never have shown their violence. We constantly see Christians getting into deep sorrow and trouble through their own unfaithfulness. Then, instead of judging themselves, they look at their circumstances and blame them.
The bargain did not buy Jacob peace.
Then comes the slaughter of the Shechemites. It was a judgment so cruel, and with so much deceit in it, that the Spirit of God later pronounced it accursed through Jacob himself. And now Jacob is shaken out of his ease and security, and plunged into distress and fear once more. God's grace will not comfort those who refuse to use it in a holy way.
The revenge outran the wrong it punished: "their dealings with the city were far worse than was Shechem's sin" (Leslie M. Grant).
- Compromise. The chapter's disasters trace back to one step: Jacob settled at Shechem and lowered his separation from the world. The damage showed up in his children, not in himself.
- Cover. His sons named the covenant sign as their one condition. They had no wish to bring anyone into the covenant. It was a pretext to trap and kill.
- Contradiction. Circumcision stood for a people separated to God. Offering it as the entry fee for intermarriage emptied the sign of the very thing it signified.
- Consequence. Revenge dressed in religion ended worse than the sin it punished. Jacob himself later called it accursed.
- Correction. Jacob blamed his circumstances rather than himself. The lesson is self-judgment: grace does not comfort those who refuse to use it in a holy way.
then will we give our daughters to you, and take your daughters to us, and we will dwell with you, and be one people.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But if ye do not hearken to us, to be circumcised, then will we take our daughter and go away.
Dinah's brothers close their offer with a threat: no circumcision, no marriage. It sounds like an honest condition between two families, but the sign they demanded was sacred and their whole use of it was a lie.
The brothers dressed their demand as covenant faithfulness. It was nothing of the sort.
So Jacob's sons stepped in with deceit, setting the condition that every male be circumcised. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, designed to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah was at fault too. Neither their mothers nor their grandmother came from circumcised fathers, and no pious or careful reluctance showed in their own marriages. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry their resentment through to the end.
Refuse, and Shechem loses the marriage he wants. Accept, and the city lies open to the massacre they planned.
Circumcision was not just a family custom. It stood for something definite.
Circumcision was therefore the seal of the righteousness of faith. Some fourteen years earlier Abram had been counted righteous because he believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness. First righteousness by faith, and then the seal.
That is what the brothers put on the table as the price of a marriage. They asked a whole city to wear the sign of a faith they had no intention of sharing.
In crafty malice and greed for gain, Israel's sons hand to these men God's own title to possess the land. And the man who valued it so little that he based his claim on someone else's rights would think nothing of trading circumcision away for treasure in this world. Circumcision was the reproach of Christ, separation from the world of the ungodly, the seal of faith, the sign of God's inheritance.
The threat in this verse has a positive half: stay and we become one people. That promise was as false as the threat was real.
The sons of Jacob were far from honourable in the way they answered. No doubt Jacob did not suspect their motives at all. But with cruel deceit they told Shechem and Hamor that they could only agree to Hamor's suggestion if all the males of the land were circumcised. They even promised that if the men were circumcised, the two families would live together as one people, willing to intermarry with the people of the land.
The trouble started before the brothers. Jacob had already settled at Shechem and bought land there.
In self-will a man had been killed there, and a fence had been thrown down. But surely Jacob himself had dug down God's fence before. God's call had raised a dividing wall between the clean and the unclean, between the circumcision and the Gentile. Jacob himself had broken that wall down in spirit when he settled as a citizen and landowner on his purchased estate at Shechem. And Simeon and Levi may complete the work as soon afterwards as they please.
No one paid for it at the time. The reckoning came years later.
Years later, in Genesis 49, the dishonour to the name of God and the horror and shame of the whole thing come over Jacob's soul far more strongly than they appear to have done at the moment of the sin. He cries: "Cursed be their anger, for it is fierce, and their wrath, for it is cruel! I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." Levi was scattered in Israel as punishment for that terrible sin, committed centuries before at Shechem. But now, for our encouragement, see the grace of God. The very punishment, the scattering in Israel, becomes an unspeakable blessing. This tribe is chosen to draw near to God. They are scattered in Israel so that the knowledge of God and His Word may be scattered through them too.
- Drift — Jacob broke God's fence down first, settling as a landowner at Shechem. His sons only finished what he started.
- Disguise — The demand sounded like covenant faithfulness. The brothers had not the smallest wish to bring the Shechemites in.
- Barter — They traded the seal of the righteousness of faith for land, peace and gain.
- Trap — The "or else" in this verse was a lying pretext. The men who accepted it in good faith walked into a massacre.
- Reckoning — Jacob cursed their anger years later, and Levi was scattered for it. God turned that scattering into the spread of His Word.
And their words were good in the eyes of Hamor and Shechem, Hamor's son.
Jacob's sons named their terms, and Hamor and his son Shechem liked what they heard. The price of peace was a religious rite, and they were willing to pay it. What they could not see was the trap. The condition was never an invitation into the covenant, and accepting it would cost the men of their city their lives.
The men who framed this proposal already had murder in mind. One writer is blunt about the gap between their words and their real intent:
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with a trick. They made circumcision for every male the condition. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry their resentment through to the end. Hamor and Shechem fell into the trap. They had enough influence to persuade all their townsmen to join them in submitting to the painful rite, and to its unexpected danger.
Two things made the offer attractive, and neither raised a warning flag:
Jacob's sons proposed the terms of the pact, and Hamor and Shechem were entirely agreeable. Shechem himself did not delay to be circumcised, because he loved Dinah. We are told that he was more honourable than everyone in his father's household... Everyone no doubt recognised that circumcision had a religious meaning. They would not have been in the least suspicious of any hidden plan against them. On top of that, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area, and all would benefit from them. These were persuasive arguments, and the men of the city were fully agreeable, so that all of them were circumcised.
Circumcision was the sign of the covenant. Here Jacob's sons hand it to a whole city as the price of a marriage and a trade deal. One writer says the real damage was not to the Shechemites but to Jacob himself:
Surely what we see here is an uncircumcised Jacob, not circumcised Shechemites. It is all miserable... This is like the religious energy of Christendom. It has put the name of Christ in the company of a world that lies under His judgment, a world He bears with only in His patience. It is as if Israel had agreed with Pharaoh and undertaken to give the Lord an altar in Egypt. But such altars are no altars — just as another gospel is not another. Such religion is empty, whether practised in these earliest days at Shechem, or now, among the nations of a judged, condemned world. God's call is to separate from it.
Strip away the rite and the dowry, and Hamor was pleased with a merger. One writer warns that the world still makes the same offer:
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested they might be one people, live in the land and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today — they want Christians to be one with them, with no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
The whole negotiation only happened because Jacob had settled where he did. Instead of blaming his sons, he should have judged his own choice of home:
We see in Genesis 34 the bitter fruit of his stay at Shechem. A stain fell on his family. Simeon and Levi try to wipe it out by the sheer energy and violence of nature, and that only led to deeper sorrow... If he had not settled at Shechem, Dinah would not have been dishonoured, and the violence of his sons would not have appeared. We constantly see Christians getting into deep sorrow and trouble through their own unfaithfulness. Then, instead of judging themselves, they start looking at circumstances and blaming them.
- Settled. Jacob's stay at Shechem is the root. If he had not settled there, no one would have dishonoured Dinah, and his sons' violence would never have appeared.
- Pleased. A merger pleased Hamor: shared daughters, shared land, shared trade. The world still offers the same deal — no difference.
- Pretext. The rite his city accepted was a lying pretext. Jacob's sons had no wish to bring anyone into the covenant.
- Hollow. A holy sign on an unchanged heart shows us an uncircumcised Jacob, not circumcised Shechemites. Such religion is empty.
- Reaped. Believers in trouble of their own making tend to blame circumstances. The call is to judge ourselves instead, and to separate from the world.
And the youth did not delay to do this, because he had delight in Jacob's daughter. And he was honourable above all in the house of his father.
Shechem had wronged Jacob's daughter Dinah. Yet he is the one who moves fastest to put things right, and this verse calls him the most honoured man in his father's house — while her brothers hide murder behind a religious demand.
Jacob had changed the way he lived. He stopped travelling as a stranger and settled near the city, and one writer traces the whole disaster to that choice.
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this action? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world, instead of being a heavenly pilgrim passing through it. What could be more natural than that his daughter should want to be a friend of the world? We all know the sad, shameful result. Who would have guessed that exchanging a tent for a house could produce such bitter fruit?
The verse gives the reason for Shechem's haste: he loved Dinah. So he agreed on the spot to a painful condition — circumcision, the bodily sign of God's covenant — and his city saw no danger in it.
Hamor and Shechem fully agreed to the terms Jacob's sons proposed. Shechem in particular did not delay to be circumcised, because he loved Dinah. We are told he was more honourable than all the household of his father... No doubt everyone recognised that circumcision had a religious meaning. So they were not in the least suspicious of any hidden plan against them.
The verse rates Shechem above everyone in his own house. One writer rates him above the brothers who killed him, Simeon and Levi. He reads Jacob's later words over those two as the Spirit's verdict on religious violence.
The condemnation of Simeon and Levi is the Holy Spirit's witness against religious intolerance and persecution... They are allied and deceitful, as religious bigotry always is. But every truly religious man will echo Jacob's rejection: "Let my soul come not into their council; O my glory, be not joined to their company. For in their anger they killed men, and in their willfulness they hamstrung oxen." The innocent suffer with the guilty in these cursed crusades — the innocent ox with the guilty Shechem — though Shechem was not half as bad as they were.
Shechem hurried to meet a demand that was designed to disable him. The brothers had no interest in bringing the city near to God, and one writer says their father knew nothing of the plan.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in. They set a deceitful condition: every male must be circumcised. They had no thought or wish at all of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God, just as it ignored their father... The condition was a lying and cowardly excuse to carry out their resentment to the limit.
The men of the city took the covenant sign, and it changed nothing. One writer turns the picture around and puts the real failure on Jacob's side.
Surely what we see here is an uncircumcised Jacob, not circumcised Shechemites. It is all miserable. Is this a son of Abraham? Is this a saint of God? Is this one of God's strangers in a world that has turned away from Him?... Such religion is empty. That was so in those earliest days at Shechem, and it is so now among the nations of a judged and condemned world. God's call is to separate from it.
Shechem's eagerness cost him his life, and the violence cost Jacob's sons a curse. Yet the sentence on Levi did not stay a sentence.
It brought a judgment on the two who promoted the violence. In later days the tribe of Levi acted in a way that gained a special blessing. So we get to see how God can turn what began as a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." They were divided. But the division came through Levi's call to special service, scattered through all the tribes.
- Drift — Jacob traded the tent for a house. His daughter then went looking for friends among the people of the land.
- Delay — Shechem "did not delay." His speed came from real love, and it walked him straight into a trap.
- Honour — The verse ranks him above his father's house. One writer ranks him above his killers: he was not half as bad as Simeon and Levi.
- Disguise — Jacob's sons turned the sign of God's covenant into a lying excuse for revenge. Scripture condemns that kind of religious bigotry.
- Reversal — The city carried the covenant sign while Jacob lived like a man without it. Yet God turned Levi's curse into scattered service and blessing.
And Hamor and Shechem his son came to the gate of their city, and spoke to the men of their city, saying,
Hamor and Shechem bring the proposal home to the men of their own town. They stand at the city gate, the place where a town settled its public business, and argue the case for joining with Jacob's family. Jacob's sons had set the terms, and commentators call those terms dishonest from the start. The harder question is how the whole scene became possible at all.
One writer sets out the offer the two rulers made: friendly neighbours, one condition, and money in it for the town.
The two of them then took a message to the people of their city. They said that Jacob and his family were friendly toward them, and would be glad to settle there and marry among them. There was one condition: every man in the city had to be circumcised, as they were. No doubt everyone saw that circumcision had a religious meaning, so they suspected no hidden plan against them. On top of that, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area, and everyone would gain by it. These arguments were persuasive. The men of the city agreed to all of it, and every one of them was circumcised.
Circumcision was the mark of God's covenant with Abraham's family. One writer weighs what was put up for sale here, and what it was worth:
With crafty malice and greed for gain, Israel's sons hand over to these men God's own title to the land. And the man who thought that title so worthless that he built his claim on someone else's rights would think nothing of trading circumcision away — the reproach of Christ, separation from the ungodly world, the seal of faith, the sign of God's inheritance — for treasure in this world.
The condition sounded like an invitation to join God's people. It was nothing of the kind:
They had not the slightest thought or wish of inviting the men of Shechem into the covenant. It was the lowest kind of treachery, meant to trap them and slaughter them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God, just as it ignored their father… The condition was a lying, cowardly excuse to carry their resentment through to the very end. Hamor and Shechem fell into the trap. They had enough influence to persuade all their townsmen, along with themselves, to submit to the painful rite and to the danger they never saw coming.
One writer traces the whole affair back to an earlier choice. Jacob had bought land at Shechem and built himself a house there:
One wrong step away from our true place before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. That is what we find here, after Jacob bought the land of the Hivite and built himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers about ten years. He had to be unsettled before he would return to his pilgrim place. But the way was painful for everyone, and a deep shame, humiliation and fear for Jacob himself.
Another writer lays the blame on Jacob himself. God's fence was already down before his sons acted:
The wall God's call had raised between the clean and the unclean, between the circumcised and the Gentile, Jacob himself had broken down in spirit. He did it when he settled as a citizen and landowner on the estate he had bought at Shechem. And Simeon and Levi may finish the work, as soon afterwards as they please.
Live together, trade together, marry together, be one people. One writer hears the world making the same offer to Christians today:
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things, and suggested they might be one people and live in the land and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. O Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Therefore go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Cor. 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Tim. 2:19).
- One step. Jacob bought land at Shechem and built a house there. That one step away from his place before the Lord opened the door to "many a sin, scandal, and sorrow."
- One fence. Jacob himself pulled that wall down in spirit — the wall God had raised between His people and the people of the land — before his sons ever acted.
- One people. The offer at the gate was to live, trade and marry together, with no difference left. The world still makes Christians that offer.
- One price. Both sides traded the sign of God's covenant for profit, and the wealth of Jacob's household was the real attraction.
- One trap. The condition was never an invitation into God's covenant. It was a pretext, and the men who agreed to it walked into danger they never saw coming.
These men are peaceable with us; therefore let them dwell in the land, and trade in it. And the land -- behold, it is of wide extent before them. We will take their daughters as wives, and give them our daughters.
Hamor and Shechem carry the marriage proposal from Jacob's tent to the city gate. Now they must sell it to their own townsmen — and the question is why a whole city agreed so fast, and what each side was really after.
They present Jacob's household as friendly neighbours. Then they add a condition that sounds religious, not suspicious. One writer shows why the pitch worked:
The two of them then carried a message to the people of their city. Jacob and his family were friendly toward them, they said, and would be glad to settle there and intermarry — but only if all the men of the city agreed to be circumcised as they were. No doubt everyone recognised that circumcision had a religious meaning, so they suspected no hidden plan against them. Besides, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area, and everyone would benefit from them.
Money was the real attraction. One writer names what the deal traded away, and what it bought:
With crafty malice and greed for gain, Israel's sons hand these men God's own title to the land. And the man who counted that land so worthless that he based his claim on another man's rights would hardly hesitate to trade circumcision away for treasure in this world. Circumcision was the reproach of Christ, separation from the ungodly world, the seal of faith, the sign of God's inheritance.
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The offer is a merger: shared marriages, shared trade, one people. One writer hears the same offer from the world today:
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things, and suggested they might be one people, live in the land, trade, and marry together. It is just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
Hamor repeats the condition to his city. It was never a real invitation into God's covenant. It was bait:
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with a cunning condition: every male must be circumcised. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the men of Shechem into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah was at fault too. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry their resentment to the limit.
None of this negotiation could have happened if Jacob had stayed a stranger in the land. He had settled and bought property first:
But Jacob lingered on the way, and at Shechem "bought a piece of land," and settled down. Instead of leaving the world fully behind, he bought a little part of it. The price he paid later was far higher than silver or gold. How easily we too, with a divided heart, may settle for a halfway house instead of God's place for us — "God's house."
Refusing a merger is not refusing people. Writing on the same kind of warning elsewhere in Scripture, one commentator marks the difference:
This is a warning for believers today: not to marry unbelievers, and not to make unbelievers feel as though there is no difference between us and them. Today, however, we have a positive gospel for unbelievers. We seek to win them to the Lord, so that they may be saved and blessed with the same blessings we have.
- Settled — Jacob bought a piece of the world instead of passing through it. The later price was far higher than the silver he paid.
- Peace — "at peace with us," said the city. Jacob's family looked like friendly neighbours, and one people was the next step.
- Profit — the deciding argument was money. Jacob's wealth would benefit everyone, so a sacred sign was worth trading away.
- Pretence — the religious condition was never a real invitation into the covenant. It hid revenge on one side and greed on the other.
- Path back — the answer is not coldness but clarity. Keep the difference plain, and bring neighbours the gospel instead of a merger.
But only in this will the men consent to us to dwell with us, to be one people -- if every male among us be circumcised, just as they are circumcised.
Hamor and Shechem stand at their city gate and sell the deal to their neighbours. The whole treaty hangs on one requirement: circumcision for every male. Only then can the two peoples live as one. It sounds like a religious concession. It is the bait in a trap.
The demand came from Jacob's sons, not from Jacob. One writer weighs what lay behind it.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with guile and set the condition that every male be circumcised. They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as much as it ignored their father… The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry their resentment to the very end.
Hamor's offer is that the two groups become one people. One writer hears in it the offer the world still makes to Christians.
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested they might be one people, live in the land and trade, and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them." The world says, "We may be one."
Why would a whole town agree to this? One writer gives two reasons.
All no doubt recognised that circumcision had a religious meaning. They would not be in the least suspicious of any hidden design against them. What is more, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area, and everyone would benefit from them. These were persuasive arguments, and the men of the city agreed fully, so that all of them were circumcised.
Here circumcision is handed out as a membership fee. Its real meaning runs far deeper.
The true circumcision is that done without hands in Christians "by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ." As the next verse shows, this points to His death. He, the Messiah, was cut off, as predicted. He was severed from His life here in flesh and blood, so that He might take up life again in resurrection. As those identified with Him, we put the sentence of death on the old fleshly life we once lived, and so put off the body of the flesh. So the meaning of the rite was the putting of the death sentence on the flesh and all its works.
So the irony is sharp. The men of Shechem take the sign in their bodies, while Jacob's family settles in among them.
Surely it is rather an uncircumcised Jacob we see here, and not circumcised Shechemites. It is all miserable. Is this a son of Abraham? Is this a saint of God? Is this one of God's strangers in a world that has revolted from Him?… Such religion is empty, whether practised in these earliest days at Shechem, or now in these days of Christendom, among the nations of a judged, condemned world. God's call is to separate from it.
Long before the bargain at the gate, Jacob had settled at Shechem. One writer traces the whole disaster back to that choice.
He was on low moral ground at Shechem… If he had not settled at Shechem, Dinah would not have been dishonoured, and the violence of his sons would not have been displayed. We constantly see Christians getting into deep sorrow and trouble through their own unfaithfulness. Then, instead of judging themselves, they look at their circumstances and blame them.
- Settle. Jacob settled at Shechem instead of living as God's stranger. Every grief that follows grows from that one choice.
- Mingle. Then came Hamor's offer: one people, no difference. The world still makes it.
- Bargain. The one condition sounded religious. It was a pretext for slaughter, sweetened by the promise of Jacob's wealth.
- Mask. Circumcision marks the death sentence on the flesh. Traded as a membership fee, it left the men of Shechem cut and Jacob the uncircumcised one.
- Reap. Religion tied to the world is empty religion. The harvest here was shame and bloodshed.
Their cattle, and their possessions, and every beast of theirs, shall they not be ours? only let us consent to them, and they will dwell with us.
Hamor and Shechem are selling a deal to their townsmen. Their closing argument is money: accept this one condition, and the livestock and goods of Jacob's household become ours. The offer sounds like friendship, but it is a calculation. Jacob was only exposed to it because he had settled at Shechem.
Jacob had settled at Shechem. One writer traces the whole disaster back to that choice, not to the men of the city.
His mind was more occupied with his danger among the Shechemites than with his security in the hand of God. He ought to have known that no one could touch a hair of his head. So instead of looking at Simeon and Levi, or at the results of their rash action, he should have judged himself for being in that position at all. If he had not settled at Shechem, no one would have dishonoured Dinah, and his sons would never have shown their violence.
The offer was a merger. Both sides would marry, trade and live as one people. Writers hear the world making the same offer today.
Hamor also promised to give Jacob many things. He suggested that they might be one people, live in the land, trade and marry together. Just like the world of today; they want Christians to be one with them — no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate from them" (2 Cor. 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Tim. 2:19).
Hamor and Shechem had to persuade every man in town to accept real pain. What they hold out in this verse is profit.
They all saw that circumcision had a religious meaning, so they had no suspicion at all of any hidden plan against them. On top of that, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area, and everyone would gain from them (vv. 20-23). These arguments won over the men of the city. They all agreed, and every one of them was circumcised.
Circumcision was never meant to be a trading licence. One writer names what this bargain really sold.
In crafty malice and greed, Israel's sons give men God's title to own the land. And he who counted that title so worthless that he based his claim on another man's rights would hardly hesitate to trade circumcision away for treasure in the world. Circumcision was the reproach of Christ, separation from the world of the ungodly, the seal of faith, the sign of God's inheritance.
The Shechemites were greedy, but the sons of Jacob were not sincere either. Commentators are blunt that the condition they set was never a genuine invitation.
They had not the smallest thought or wish of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as it did their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah too was in fault... The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry out their resentment to the very end. Hamor and Shechem fell into the trap. They had enough influence to persuade all their townsmen to join them in accepting the painful rite, with the unexpected danger it carried.
The men of Shechem asked whether Jacob's livestock would not become theirs. The answer came three days later, and it ran the other way.
On the third day, when they were all sore, Jacob's two sons Levi and Simeon boldly attacked the city. They killed all the men and took Dinah out of Shechem's house. They also took all the sheep, cattle and donkeys, and everything in the city and in the field. They took all their money, their children and their wives, even all that was in the house.
- Settle — the trouble began when Jacob settled at Shechem. He needed to judge his own position, not blame what happened there.
- Merge — the offer was to become one people, with no difference left. God's call runs the other way: go out, be separate, depart from iniquity.
- Price — money is the argument that persuaded a whole city. A sign of faith and separation changed hands because it looked profitable.
- Pretence — commentators blame both sides. The Shechemites wanted the wealth, and Jacob's sons never meant the covenant they offered.
- Loss — the men who asked whether Jacob's livestock would be theirs lost their own. What the world hopes to gain from God's people is not what it gets.
And all that went out at the gate of his city hearkened to Hamor and to Shechem his son; and every male was circumcised -- all that went out at the gate of his city.
The men of Shechem heard their prince's proposal and agreed to it. Every male in the city accepted circumcision, the sign of God's covenant. Two questions press here. Why would a whole city accept such a condition? And what did Jacob's sons want from it?
The proposal reached the men of Shechem through their own leaders. It came wrapped in both religion and profit:
Everyone no doubt recognised that circumcision had a religious meaning. They would not suspect any hidden plan against them at all. On top of that, the wealth of Jacob's family would be a welcome addition to the area. Everyone would benefit from them.
On the other side of the bargain, Jacob's sons were handing over something that was never theirs to trade. The sign they put on the table carried a weight of meaning:
In crafty malice and greed for gain, Israel's sons give men God's title to possess the land. He counted it so worthless that he based his own claim on another man's rights. So he would hardly hesitate to barter circumcision away for treasure in this world. Yet circumcision was the reproach of Christ, separation from the world of the ungodly, the seal of faith, and the sign of God's inheritance.
No one should read this verse as a mass conversion. The brothers never meant to bring these men into God's covenant:
Not the smallest thought or wish did they have of inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap them and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong, but Dinah was at fault too. Hamor and Shechem fell into the trap. They had enough influence to persuade all their townsmen to join them in the painful ritual, and in its unexpected danger.
The irony of the verse is sharp. The uncircumcised city obeyed; the family that held the sign had already given away what it stood for:
Surely it is rather an uncircumcised Jacob we see here, and not circumcised Shechemites. It is all miserable. Is this a son of Abraham? Is this a saint of God? Is this one of God's strangers in a world that has revolted from Him? This is like the religious energy of Christendom. It has put the name of Christ in the company of the world that is under His judgment. It is as if Israel had agreed with Pharaoh and promised to give the Lord an altar in Egypt. But such altars are no altars.
The terms accepted at the gate aimed at making the two peoples one. One writer hears the same offer in the world today:
Just like the world of today — they want Christians to be one with them, with no difference. Christians, be careful! The Lord says, "Go out from their midst, and be separate" (2 Corinthians 6:17). The world says, "We may be one." The Lord says, "Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity" (2 Timothy 2:19).
The circumcision of verse 24 opened the way to the slaughter in the next verses. The damage did not stop with Shechem. Yet God can reverse a sentence:
The shameful story of Genesis 34 made Jacob "stink among the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land with the true knowledge of God. It also brought judgment on the two who led the violence. Later the tribe of Levi acted in a way that gained a special blessing. In this we see how God can turn what began as a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel" (49:7). They were divided — but God divided them by calling Levi to special service and scattering that tribe through all the others.
- Persuade — circumcision sounded religious and Jacob's wealth sounded profitable, so no one at the gate suspected a trap.
- Mingle — the world still makes Shechem's offer: be one with us, no difference. God's word answers, "Go out from their midst, and be separate."
- Barter — circumcision was the seal of faith and separation from the ungodly world, and Jacob's sons traded it for gain. What we see is an uncircumcised Jacob, not circumcised Shechemites.
- Reap — the city's obedience opened the door to its massacre. Jacob's name stank in the land, and judgment fell on the two who led the violence.
- Redeem — God turned the curse "I will divide them" into Levi's calling, a blessing scattered through every tribe.
And it came to pass on the third day, when they were sore, that two of the sons of Jacob, Simeon and Levi, Dinah's brethren, took each his sword, and came upon the city boldly, and slew all the males.
Jacob had settled beside a Hivite city and built a house there, and the cost of that choice now arrives with drawn swords. Two of his sons turn a sacred sign into a trap and kill every male in the town, which leaves us asking what God does with such men.
The killing does not begin at verse 25. It begins with a plot of land and a house.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. That is what we find here, and it came from Jacob buying the land of the Hivite and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years.
The condition the brothers set was no invitation into God's covenant. They chose it to leave the men of the city helpless.
Then Jacob's sons stepped in with a trick: every male must be circumcised. They had not the slightest thought or wish of bringing the men of Shechem into the covenant. It was treachery of the lowest kind, meant to trap them and massacre them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God just as it ignored their father.
The third day is not a stray detail. It is the day the men of the city could not fight back.
Then the cruel treachery of Jacob's sons comes to the surface. Only Simeon and Levi are mentioned here, brothers of Dinah, though Reuben and Judah were also her brothers. The two, however, attack the unarmed city, killing every male while they were still sore from surgery. This came as a complete surprise, and the men had no defence. No men were left to organize a counter attack.
The brothers had an answer ready: their sister's honour. One writer weighs it against what they did.
Jacob's sons, however, only answered defiantly, "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" That was not fair-mindedness. Shechem had not dealt with her that way. Even if he had, did that justify Simeon and Levi in killing all the men of that city and plundering their houses? What they did to the city was far worse than Shechem's sin.
No judgment fell at the time. The verdict came at the end of Jacob's life.
The anger came to a head in the terrible violence of Simeon and Levi. Jacob never forgot it, and neither did God. At the end of his life Jacob spoke as a prophet about his sons. He foretold the future of the tribes and gave certain blessings. But he condemned these two sons and cursed their anger, as recorded in Genesis 49:5-7.
The sentence was to divide them and scatter them. God carried it out, but on one of the two brothers it fell as a privilege.
It is worth noting that later on the tribe of Levi acted in such a way that they gained a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what began as a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel" (49:7). They were divided. But Levi's division came through a call to special service, which scattered him among all the tribes.
Levi carries a sword a second time, and this time Simeon is not beside him.
It is true that here too we see him with his sword at his side. But oh, for what a different purpose, and in what a different cause! He is not now killing a man in anger and self-will. He acts in holy jealousy and care for the honour of the Lord God of Israel, and in simple obedience to His command… And Levi is no longer seen "joined" with his brother Simeon. He might join with him in the days of his wickedness for deeds of blood. But here a new scene opens, and so he is seen "joined" with the Lord and His servant Moses, to carry out righteous judgement on idolatry.
Scripture never softens this story, and there is a reason.
Here is a truly humbling view of human nature seen in the light of God's holiness. It is as if the Lord would say to us: Look here! Look at a man dressed in nature's blackest clothing… Look closely, so that you may see what man is when stripped of all the false clothing that ignorance or empty self-righteousness would put on him — and so may know the rich abundance of My grace.
- Settling. The killing grew out of a settled life beside Shechem. One step away from our place before the Lord opens the door to sin, scandal and sorrow.
- Scheming. They used the covenant sign as bait — treachery dressed as religion, with no wish to bring anyone to God.
- Slaying. They struck on the third day, when no man in the city could fight: planned, one-sided killing, not justice for Dinah.
- Sentence. God did not act at once, but Jacob's dying words cursed their anger and decreed they be divided and scattered.
- Salvation. Levi's sword is drawn again in the Lord's cause, and the scattering itself becomes his service — where man is at his blackest, God shows the rich abundance of His grace.
And Hamor and Shechem his son they slew with the edge of the sword; and took Dinah out of Shechem's house; and went out.
Two brothers walk into a city whose men cannot fight back. They kill its ruler and his son. Then they take their sister and go. The rescue is real, but the means are murder — and the rest of Scripture never lets the deed go unanswered.
One writer traces this bloodshed back to a much earlier failure in Jacob's own walk.
The whole of Genesis 34 shows the unhappy results that sprang from the lowering of Jacob's separation from the world. Its effects for evil were not seen in Jacob himself but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption. The world is just the same today. How often we have to hang our heads in shame and admit the truth. A little living on the border of the world on our part, as Christian parents, has led to sorrow and even disaster in our families.
Jacob's sons had set one condition on the city: every male must be circumcised. That left the men unable to fight. One writer names that condition for what it was.
Not the smallest thought or wish had they for inviting the Shechemites into the covenant. It was the basest treachery, meant to trap them and slaughter them. Jacob had nothing to do with the cruel secret. Their pride and revenge ignored God as they ignored their father. Shechem was guilty of a great wrong; but Dinah too was at fault. The condition was a lying and cowardly pretext to carry out their resentment to the very end.
Two of Dinah's brothers did this, and the men they killed could not lift a hand.
Only Simeon and Levi are mentioned here, brothers of Dinah, though Reuben and Judah were also her brothers. The two attack the unarmed city, killing every male while they were still sore from surgery. Of course this was totally unexpected and the men had no defence. No men were left to organise any counter-attack. Hamor and Shechem also, who had been considerate of Jacob's family, were killed.
The brothers later defended themselves by pointing to their sister's disgrace. That defence does not survive examination.
This was not fair-mindedness, for Shechem had not actually dealt that way, and if he had, did that justify Simeon and Levi in killing all the men of that city and plundering their houses? Their dealings with the city were far worse than was Shechem's sin.
Under the appeal to their sister's honour, another writer hears greed.
Simeon and Levi say, "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" — making her honour cover their covetousness. At least Jacob is honest, for he says, "You have brought trouble on me by making me stink … I shall be destroyed, both I and my household."
Years later, on his deathbed, Jacob cursed the anger of these two sons. He said they would be divided and scattered. One writer notes that the sentence stood, yet God changed what it produced.
The shameful story of Genesis 34 caused Jacob "to stink among the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land who truly knew God. It also brought judgment on the two who promoted the violence. In later days the tribe of Levi acted in a way that gained a special blessing. So we are allowed to see how God can turn what was at first a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." They were divided. But God did it by calling Levi to special service and scattering him throughout all the tribes.
Levi carries a sword again later in Israel's story. This time the cause is different.
It is true we see him here again with his sword by his side, but for what a different purpose, and in what a different cause! He is not now killing a man in anger and self-will. He acts in holy care for the honour of the Lord God of Israel, and in simple obedience to His command. He is no longer "joined" with his brother Simeon. In the days of his wickedness he might join him for deeds of blood. But here a new scene opens, and he is "joined" with the Lord and His servant Moses.
- Drift. Jacob's lowered separation from the world set the stage; the evil broke out not in him but in his children.
- Deceit. Jacob's sons offered the sign of God's covenant as bait, not as welcome — a lying pretext to disable a city.
- Disproportion. They avenged a real wrong with a far greater one, and plundered the houses too. Their sister's honour covered their greed.
- Divided. Jacob's dying words cursed their anger. His sentence scattered their descendants through Israel.
- Redeemed. Levi lifted his sword again, this time for God's honour. The scattering then became the tribe's service.
The sons of Jacob came upon the slain, and plundered the city, because they had defiled their sister.
Two brothers had killed the men of Shechem. Now the rest of Jacob's sons come to the bodies and strip the town. Scripture gives their reason in one clause: "because they had defiled their sister." Was that reason enough? And what else was driving them?
The plunder came on top of a massacre.
Then the cruel treachery of Jacob's sons comes to the surface. The text names only Simeon and Levi here, the brothers of Dinah, though Reuben and Judah were also her brothers. But the two of them attack the unarmed city. They kill every male while the men are still sore from surgery. Of course this took the men by surprise, and they had no defence. No one remained to organize a counter attack. The two also killed Hamor and Shechem, who had been considerate of Jacob's family. They took Dinah from Shechem's house. They carried off the other women and children as captives. They seized the goods of the people, including all their livestock, as if they were the spoils of war.
Dinah's honour is the reason given. It was not the only motive at work.
Simeon and Levi say, "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" making her honour cover their covetousness. At least Jacob is honest, for he says, "You have brought trouble on me by making me stink … and I shall be destroyed, both I and my household."
They killed under cover of religion. One commentator calls that the worst part of the whole affair.
In condemning Simeon and Levi, the Holy Spirit speaks out against religious intolerance and persecution. They are joined together and deceitful, as religious bigotry always is. But every truly religious man will echo Jacob's rejection of it: "Let my soul come not into their council; O my glory, be not joined to their company. For in their anger they killed men, and in their willfulness they hamstrung oxen." The innocent suffer with the guilty in these cursed crusades — the innocent ox along with the guilty Shechem — and Shechem was not half as bad as they were. The worst of this crime is that they do it in the name of God, religious order and separation. So they bring religion into the contempt of unthinking minds. They manage to wrong the world and the church at the same time.
Commentators trace the disaster back past the sons to the father. Jacob had bought land at Shechem and built a house there instead of moving on.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. So we find here, as the consequence of Jacob's buying the land of the Hivite and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers some ten years. He had to be unsettled to get him back to his pilgrim place. But the way was painful for all. For Jacob himself it brought deep shame, humiliation and fear.
Jacob never forgot. Years later his judgment fell on Levi, one of the two ringleaders.
Years later, in Genesis 49, the dishonour to the name of God and the horror and shame of the whole thing come over Jacob's soul. They strike him far more strongly than they seem to have done at the moment of the sin. He cries: "Cursed be their anger, for it is fierce, and their wrath, for it is cruel! I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." God scattered Levi in Israel to punish that terrible sin, committed centuries before at Shechem. But now, for our encouragement, see the grace of God. The very punishment, the scattering in Israel, becomes an unspeakable blessing. God chooses this tribe to draw near to Him. He scatters them through Israel, so the knowledge of God and His Word spreads just as widely through them.
Scripture does not soften the picture, and that is deliberate.
We have here a truly humbling view of human nature as seen in the light of the holiness of God. It is as if the Lord would say to us: Look here! See a man dressed in nature's blackest clothing, showing nature's most repellent face. Examine him closely. See what man is once you strip away all the false clothing that ignorance or empty self-righteousness would put on him. Then you may know the rich abundance of My grace, which can lift even such a one into the highest heights of communion.
- Cause — A father who settled where he should only have passed through. One step out of place bred the sin, scandal and sorrow that filled his house.
- Cover — The sister's honour was real; it was also a cloak. Covetousness took the flocks, the wealth, the wives and the children while claiming to defend her.
- Cost — They used religion as the weapon. The innocent fell with the guilty, and religion itself fell into contempt.
- Curse — Jacob refused to be joined to that deed. He cursed their anger, and Levi was scattered for it.
- Conversion — The scattering itself became the blessing, for God chose Levi to draw near to Him. Scripture shows human nature at its blackest so we can measure grace against it.
Their sheep, and their oxen, and their asses, and what [was] in the city, and what [was] in the field they took;
Two of Jacob's sons had just killed every man in Shechem. Verse 28 counts up what his sons carried off afterwards, and what they took says a great deal about why they came.
When their father confronted them, the brothers had an answer ready. They said Shechem had treated their sister like a prostitute. But the plunder tells a different story.
Simeon and Levi say, "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" — making her honour a cover for their covetousness.
The revenge went far past the wrong that was done.
This was not fair-mindedness. Shechem had not dealt that way. And even if he had, did that justify Simeon and Levi in killing all the men of that city and plundering their houses? What they did to the city was far worse than Shechem's sin.
Scripture reports all of this without a word of outrage. That calm is itself striking.
There is something deeply solemn in the calm way Scripture tells this whole story of corruption and violence, carried out and covered by hateful hypocrisy. Here the chosen race were the offenders, and the Canaanites were the victims!
Commentators differ on how much Jacob himself felt the evil of it. Mackintosh reads Jacob's protest in verse 30 as concern for his own safety. Kelly says that goes too far, and points to Jacob's dying words.
All of this traces back to one choice. Jacob had settled at Shechem and made his home among the people of the land.
He ought to have known that not a hair of his head could be touched. So instead of looking at Simeon and Levi, or at the results of their rash action, he should have judged himself for being in such a position at all. If he had not settled at Shechem, Dinah would not have been dishonoured, and his sons' violence would never have come out.
Another writer starts from what Jacob had stopped being: a pilgrim passing through.
He is hardly a pilgrim now. He has lost his separateness, and Dinah is defiled. Then comes the slaughter of the Shechemites — a judgment so cruel, and with so much deceit in it, that the Spirit of God in Jacob later pronounces it accursed.
The flocks and herds of verse 28 did not stay behind in Shechem. They went with the family on the next stage of the journey.
How sad his return is! Loaded with ill-gotten gains, they set out with their flocks and herds to seek the Lord. But they will not find Him, because He has withdrawn Himself from them... Jacob has grasped his portion in God's inheritance ahead of time, and lost it. He gave up God's rights to win the world over, and foolishly earned their hatred instead.
The raid was never written off as a family matter settled long ago.
The anger came to a head in the terrible violence of Simeon and Levi. Jacob never forgot it, and neither did God. At the end of his life Jacob spoke as a prophet over his sons. He foretold the future of the tribes and pronounced certain blessings, and he condemned these two sons and cursed their anger, as recorded in Genesis 49:5-7.
The cattle in this verse are part of the charge. Jacob's dying words name the oxen next to the men. In such raids the harmless suffer with the guilty — the innocent ox along with Shechem, who was not half as bad as his killers, as one writer notes (The Bible Treasury).
Levi's story does not end with looted sheep. Later he takes up the sword again, and everything about the act has changed.
It is true we find him here with his sword at his side too, but oh, for what a different purpose, and in what a different cause! Now he is not killing a man in anger and self-will. He acts in holy jealousy and care for the honour of the Lord God of Israel, in simple obedience to His command... And Levi is no longer seen joined with his brother Simeon. He would join with him in the days of his wickedness to carry out deeds of blood. But here he is joined with the Lord and His servant Moses, to carry out righteous judgment on idol worship.
- Settle — Jacob settled at Shechem, among the people of the land. Had he not, neither Dinah's shame nor his sons' violence would have followed.
- Avenge — They claimed they were defending a sister's honour. The loot shows covetousness hiding behind it.
- Exceed — Killing every man and stripping every house went far beyond the wrong done. Their crime was worse than Shechem's.
- Carry — They set out to seek the Lord loaded with ill-gotten gain. Wealth won that way is baggage, not blessing.
- Redeem — Jacob's dying words cursed that anger. Yet Levi later drew the same sword for the Lord's honour — new cause, new company.
and all their goods, and all their little ones, and their wives took they captive, and plundered them, and all that was in the houses.
Genesis 34 ends in looting, not rescue. Simeon and Levi have killed the men of Shechem, and the rest of Jacob's sons strip the city of its women, children and goods. Two questions follow. How did the family chosen to carry God's promise come to this? And why does God say nothing at the time?
Commentators trace the disaster back to an earlier choice. Jacob bought land near the city and built a house instead of moving on.
One wrong step away from our true position before the Lord leads to many a sin, scandal, and sorrow. That is what we find here. It all came from Jacob buying the land of the Hivite and building himself a house. His stay at Succoth and Shechem covers about ten years. He had to be unsettled to get him back to his pilgrim place. But the way was painful for all, and brought deep shame, humiliation and fear on Jacob himself.
What the father chose, the daughter copied.
Jacob seems to have grown tired of the pilgrim path, and gave in to the temptation to settle down and build a home. And what was the fruit of this? His daughter Dinah goes out to see the daughters of the land. Her father had settled down in the world instead of passing through it as a heavenly pilgrim. What could be more natural than his daughter wanting to be friends with the world?
The brothers had an answer ready for their father. They were defending their sister. One writer weighs that answer against what they did.
Jacob's sons, however, only answered defiantly, "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" This was not fair-mindedness. Shechem had not treated her that way. And even if he had, did that justify Simeon and Levi in killing all the men of that city and plundering their houses? Their dealings with the city were far worse than Shechem's sin was.
Verse 29 lists what they carried off: wealth, wives, children, whole households. One writer finds the real motive in that list.
Simeon and Levi make their sister's honour cover their covetousness. At least Jacob is honest, for he says, "You have brought trouble on me by making me stink … and I shall be destroyed, both I and my household."
Scripture itself adds no word of protest here.
How solemn is the calm with which Scripture tells this whole affair of corruption and violence! Hateful hypocrisy carried it out and covered it. The chosen race were the ones who did it, and Canaanites were the victims.
No punishment followed at the time. That silence is not indifference.
This whole action was so cruelly unjust that we wonder no punishment or correction followed at all. God has certainly exposed it in all its naked wickedness, and we know He could not approve of anything like this. Yet why was there no repayment? The answer seems to be simply this. God does not always settle His accounts quickly. The wheels of His government grind slowly. But He misses nothing, and in His own time He will deal with every detail of our ways.
The reckoning came at the end of Jacob's life, in the words he spoke over his sons.
When Jacob blessed his sons, he pronounced a curse on their cruelty, and added, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." This illustrates the righteous government of God. Later faithful conduct won this tribe the service of the tabernacle and the priesthood, but that reward does not set that government aside. It was sovereign grace.
So why keep such a record at all?
We have here a truly humbling view of human nature as seen in the light of God's holiness. It is as if the Lord would say to us: Look here! See a man dressed in nature's blackest clothing, showing nature's most repulsive face. Examine him closely. See what man is when stripped of the false clothing that ignorance or empty self-righteousness would put on him. Then you may know the rich abundance of My grace, which can lift even such a person into the highest places of communion.
- Settle — Jacob built a house where he should have stayed a pilgrim. One wrong step opened the door to the sin, scandal and sorrow of this chapter.
- Spoil — the plunder of wealth, wives and children shows the real drive. The brothers used their sister's honour to cover their covetousness.
- Sentence — no punishment came at once. God's government grinds slowly and misses nothing. Jacob's dying words cursed their anger and scattered them.
- Sovereign grace — Levi's scattering became service at the tabernacle. God's righteous government still stands, yet grace turned a curse into blessing.
- Show — Scripture keeps this ugly page so we see what man is, stripped of self-righteous clothing, and how high grace can lift him.
And Jacob said to Simeon and Levi, Ye have troubled me, in that ye make me odious among the inhabitants of the land -- among the Canaanites and the Perizzites; and I am few men in number, and they will gather themselves against me and smite me, and I shall be destroyed, I and my house.
After the killing at Shechem, Jacob's first words are about himself: his good name, his small numbers, his likely death. Commentators see a man reaping what his choice of home had sown, though they differ over whether he felt the evil itself or only what it cost him.
The disaster did not begin with Simeon and Levi. It began earlier. Jacob pitched his tent beside a Canaanite city, and the line between his household and the world blurred.
Genesis 34 is filled with the unhappy results that came from Jacob lowering his separation from the world, as we have just noted. Its effects for evil were not seen in Jacob himself but in his family. The tide of evil runs in two broad channels: violence and corruption... The world is just the same today. How often, as Christian parents, we have to hang our heads in shame and admit that a little living close to the world has brought sorrow and even disaster into our families.
Jacob's complaint fastens on his sons and on his danger. God had already promised to keep him, and one writer measures the complaint against that promise.
Could faith have led him to say, "I shall be destroyed, both I and my household"? Surely not. God's promise in Gen. 28:14-15 should have banished every fear from his poor timid spirit. "I will keep you… I will not leave you." But the fact is, his mind was full of his danger among the Shechemites rather than his safety in God's hand... He should not have looked at Simeon and Levi, or at the results of their rash act. He should have judged himself for being in such a position at all... We often see Christians fall into deep sorrow and trouble through their own unfaithfulness. Then, instead of judging themselves, they look at their circumstances and blame them.
The same crime came before Jacob twice. One writer sets the two moments side by side.
It troubled him then because of the mischief which it might work for him among his neighbours... This was the mind he was in when he was a citizen in Shechem. But now it is on other ground altogether, higher and purer ground, that his soul refuses this iniquity. It was iniquity; that is enough; and he will not let his honour be united with it.
Commentators differ here. One argues that even now Jacob was not blind to the wickedness itself, only overwhelmed by alarm.
Still it is going too far to say that Jacob felt only the consequence, not the appalling iniquity... Jacob was no doubt so full of alarm that he forgot God's promise. But who can forget how deeply he felt this dark and hateful day? On his deathbed he spoke of it in words of prophetic power.
Simeon and Levi answer their father with a question about their sister, and admit nothing else. One writer weighs that defence and finds it hollow.
Jacob's sons, however, gave only a defiant answer: "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" This was not fair-mindedness, for Shechem had not treated her that way. And if he had, did that justify Simeon and Levi in killing all the men of that city and plundering their houses? Their dealings with the city were far worse than was Shechem's sin.
Judgment on the two brothers came later, and it was not God's last word about Levi.
Scripture records very little of Levi. He joined with Simeon in the treacherous and vengeful dealings with Shechem, Gen. 34:25-31. When Jacob blessed his sons, he pronounced a curse on their cruelty, and added, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." This shows the righteous government of God. That government is not set aside, even though God later rewarded faithful conduct by choosing this tribe for the Levitical service and the priesthood... It was sovereign grace.
Jacob's dread of the peoples around him does not last. The next chapter answers it, but only after he moves.
God calls him to Bethel, and this wakes him up. He begins to act consistently. He buries all the idols and worldly jewellery of the household... God is with Jacob after this, and the terror that weighed on him in chapter 34:30 has gone. Now it is God's terror that holds his enemies in awe.
- Settle — Jacob camped beside a Canaanite city. That choice lowered the separation between his household and the world, and the whole chapter is its harvest.
- Reap — his daughter is defiled and his sons turn murderers. Living close to the world hurt his family, not himself.
- Blame — faced with the wreckage, he looks at Simeon and Levi and at his own danger. He should have judged himself for being there at all.
- Forget — "I shall be destroyed" is not the speech of a man holding on to God's promise: "I will keep you… I will not leave you."
- Return — the fear lifts only at Bethel. There Jacob buries the idols, and God's terror, not Jacob's scheming, holds the nearby peoples back.
And they said, Should people deal with our sister as with a harlot?
Jacob's sons answer their father's rebuke with a question of their own, and Jacob says nothing back. Did their sister's dishonour justify the massacre at Shechem? If not, why did God let it pass without punishment?
The brothers' reply sounds like a defence of family honour. One writer weighs it against the facts, and it fails twice over.
Jacob's sons only answered with defiance: "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" This was not fair-mindedness. Shechem had not treated her that way. And even if he had, did that justify Simeon and Levi in killing all the men of that city and plundering their houses? Their dealings with the city were far worse than Shechem's sin.
Their question puts their sister's honour first. One writer names the motive under it, and sets Jacob's blunt words beside it.
Simeon and Levi say, "Should he treat our sister like a prostitute?" They use her honour to cover their greed. At least Jacob is honest, for he says, "You have brought trouble on me by making me stink … and I shall be destroyed, both I and my household."
Jacob's complaint dwells on his reputation and safety. Some read that as proof he felt nothing about the crime. One writer says that goes too far, and points to what Jacob said years later.
Scripture tells this whole affair of corruption and violence with a solemn calm. Hateful hypocrisy covered it and carried it through. The chosen family were the offenders, and the Canaanites were the victims. Still, it goes too far to say that Jacob felt only the consequences and not the appalling wickedness… Alarm no doubt filled Jacob, so that he forgot God's promise. But who can forget the words of prophetic power he spoke on his dying bed about this dark and hateful day?
The killing was not the first wrong step. One writer traces it back to Jacob's settled ease.
He is hardly a pilgrim now, and as he loses his separateness Dinah is defiled. The slaughter of the Shechemites follows. That judgment was so cruel, and so full of deceit, that the Spirit of God in Jacob later calls it accursed. And now he is shaken out of his ease and security, and plunged into distress and fear once more. God's grace will not comfort those who will not use it in a holy way.
No punishment falls on Simeon and Levi. That silence troubles readers, and one writer answers it.
This whole action was so cruel and unjust that we wonder why no punishment or correction followed… Yet why was there no repayment? The answer seems to be this: God does not always settle His accounts quickly. The wheels of His government grind slowly. But He misses nothing, and in His own time He will take care of every detail of our ways. As to Simeon, see Genesis 42:24. The other brothers went through a painful ordeal at the same time. God did not allow others to attack Jacob then, but He will deal with His people in His own time and way.
Jacob settles the account on his deathbed. He tells the two brothers they will be divided and scattered. Yet that scattering did not stay a punishment.
So the shameful story of Genesis 34 made Jacob "stink to the inhabitants of the land." That was a dreadful position for him, since he was the only man in the land with the true knowledge of God. And the story also brought judgment on the two who promoted the violence. Later the tribe of Levi acted in a way that gained a special blessing. So we get to see how God can turn what was once a curse into a blessing. The word had been, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." They were divided — but the dividing came through Levi's call to special service, spread out among all the tribes.
Their self-defence closes the chapter, but not the story. One writer carries it forward to the day they face their part in the death of Messiah.
Simeon and Levi were both guilty, as Jacob recalled at the end of his days. They excused themselves for their guilt at that time. But they have no excuse when they realise their part in the killing of Messiah.
- Excuse. The closing question defends family honour. But Shechem had not treated Dinah that way, and killing a city and looting it was far worse than his sin.
- Cover. They used their sister's honour to cover their own greed.
- Cause. The violence grew out of Jacob's settled ease and lost separateness. Grace does not comfort those who refuse to use it in a holy way.
- Delay. No punishment falls in the chapter. God's government grinds slowly, but He misses nothing.
- Grace. The sentence came at last: divided and scattered. Yet God turned Levi's curse into a calling, and one day the excuse will give way to repentance.
And God said to Jacob, Arise, go up to Bethel, and dwell there, and make there an altar unto the God that appeared unto thee when thou fleddest from the face of Esau thy brother.
God speaks to Jacob after years that had gone badly. He had settled at Shechem, and his household still kept idols. The call is short, and it names a place he already knew: Bethel, where God met him as he ran from his brother.
Everything about Shechem deserved comment, yet God makes none.
Notice this. Here we see a beautiful feature of God's way of dealing with souls. There is not one word said about Shechem, its pollution and its confusion. There is not a word of rebuke for having settled down there. Such is not God's way. He uses a far better way. If we had been dealing with Jacob, we would have come down on him with a heavy hand. We would have given him a severe lecture about his folly in settling at Shechem, and about his personal and family habits and condition. But oh, how well it is that God's thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not like ours!
Nothing spectacular came with this message. Yet it did what greater sights had not done.
These few words were with power. They formed, I believe, the great turning point in the life of Jacob, or rather, in the history of his soul. They were few and simple. Nothing strange or startling came with them, no vision and no miracle. But they were a day of power. He had already come away from the vision of the ladder at Bethel, from the magnificent sight of the army of angels at Mahanaim, and from the wrestling of the divine Stranger at Peniel. None of it had helped him or moved his soul forward. But now power visits him. God's hand can do God's work, though it has only a sling and a stone, or the jawbone of a donkey, or lamps and pitchers. And God's Spirit can do God's work in souls, though He uses only a word, or a look, or a groan.
Jacob had spent years building up his own house and his own interests. Bethel — the place he had named the house of God — now has first claim.
That was a reminder to Jacob. The Lord said, "You are going back to Bethel. That is the place you left, the place where I met you before, the place you called Bethel, the house of God. All these years you have been wandering about, taking care of your own house — and acting deceitfully about it too. Now it is time to get back to My house. You are concerned about your circumstances, you are concerned about your interests. What about My interests now?" God has a house too. We should truly care about the house of God. And the house of God today is "the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth" (1 Tim. 3:15).
God names Himself here as the One who appeared to Jacob when he was running from Esau.
God stepped in and called Jacob back to the place where He first made Himself known to him. There he was to dwell, and there his altar was to be. At Bethel, as we saw in Genesis 28, God declared what He would be for Jacob and to Jacob, without raising any question about Jacob's response or behaviour. God is always true to Himself and to His word. Before God gave the law through Moses, He was dealing with these fathers on the basis of His promises in grace. Those promises still stand.
Jacob's first move after hearing this is to order the idols out of his camp.
"Strange gods"? Yes, there they were, and he knew it all along, but he never felt how serious it was until God called him to go to Bethel. His conscience is now awake to what had made no impression on his mind before... Now it is God's presence that brings light into his soul — not providential power, not His disciplinary dealings, but the call to Bethel. And the false gods must be put away.
God spoke to one man, but Jacob had a household with him.
God seems to have spoken this to Jacob alone. But Jacob never thought for a moment of separating himself from his family, either in privilege or in responsibility... So a call to Jacob put Jacob's house under responsibility. God called him to go up to His house, and at once his conscience asked whether his own house was fit to answer such a call.
- Bethel first. God does not scold Jacob about Shechem. He names a place. The cure for a wrong place is a call back to the right one.
- Bethel's promise. At Bethel God said what He would be for Jacob, without one question about Jacob's behaviour. That promise still stands.
- Bethel means dwelling. Jacob had only passed through before; now God tells him to stay. His own house gives way to God's house.
- Bethel awakens. Jacob had lived with idols for years. The call to Bethel made them unbearable. Light did what discipline had not done.
- Bethel's household. God spoke to one man, and his whole house came under the call. Jacob would not go up alone.
And Jacob said to his household, and to all that were with him, Put away the strange gods that are among you, and cleanse yourselves, and change your garments;
God tells Jacob to go up to Bethel, and at once he orders his household to get rid of their idols, wash, and change their clothes. Why does a command to travel produce a house-clearing — and why had Jacob left those idols alone until now?
The call to Bethel told Jacob nothing new about his household.
"Strange gods"? Yes, there they were, and he knew it all along, but he never felt the seriousness of it until God summoned him to Bethel. His conscience is now awake to what previously made no impression on his mind. We easily forget what our heart does not judge as it is before God... Clearly it was so with Jacob. But now the presence of God brings light into his soul — not His power working through events, not His discipline of him, but the call to Bethel. The false gods must go.
Years of hardship had never touched those idols. One writer separates what hard experience can do from what only God's presence does.
These false gods came from his connection with the world... The thought of God's presence made him remember them. It awakens in his soul the conviction that these gods, the objects of this world's worship, can never be kept alongside a faithful God. Nothing else can awaken this conviction. No experiences can ever have the effect which the presence of God produces on a soul. Such experiences are useful to humble us; they are a means of stripping us of ourselves. Still, only the presence of God as light can make us condemn ourselves. Only it gives us power to purify ourselves from our deepest idols — the ones we know well but keep hidden.
The idols were not new to Jacob's household.
In Genesis 31 we saw how Rachel had carried off from Laban the "gods" that he valued, and there is no record of Jacob taking exception to them at that time. But with God before him, he at once became alive to the evil of them. They were to be put away. There was to be personal cleanliness too, reaching even to the clothes they wore. The presence of God demands a cleansing that covers even what surrounds us — an important lesson we all need to take to heart.
Jacob is heading out to worship. He starts at the other end — with what has to go.
At the call of God he sets out for Bethel; he leaves his field and his own altar for the place of God's choosing. He is going to worship. Before learning to do well he stops doing evil, and begins by purging his house... Now he hates even the garments spotted by the flesh. There must be self-abasement as well as cleansing, and he tells them to take off their earrings. It was an outward sign of repentance and humility. Jacob feels his sin in tolerating the idolatrous practices in his family... Christian parents sometimes allow things in their homes that they know are wrong. It is a sin to them.
Jacob's call to "be clean" — where the ESV reads "purify yourselves" — does not stop with his household.
This whole change stamps another pattern upon Jacob: the clothes they wore, the altar of their worship, the stripping off of their ornaments, the denial of the strange gods in their hands, and their burial "under the oak, which was by Shechem." "Be clean" is now his word. It was later the word of the priests, and then of the prophets whom God sent among His people. At last Christ came and did the work that enables God Himself to testify that "the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin."
Jacob's family had settled at Shechem. The call to move exposes a double standard.
Jacob felt that he could not bring false gods and defiled garments to Bethel: such things might pass at Shechem, but they would never do for Bethel.
Jacob's own recovery does not stop with him.
The very thought of Bethel, where God had appeared to him, revived Jacob's soul. Once revived himself, he could lead others also in fresh power.
Commentators differ on how complete this reform was. One writer notes what Jacob left untouched.
Jacob judges Laban's gods and says, "Be clean and change your garments"; but he holds with a greedy hand to unrighteous gains. He may hide the strange gods and their earrings under the oak by Shechem — but they go with flocks and herds to seek the Lord.
- Call. God's call to Bethel, not years of trouble, woke Jacob's conscience to idols he had known about all along.
- Light. Painful experience humbles us and strips us of ourselves. Only God's presence as light exposes the idols we hide deepest.
- Clean. The cleansing reaches past the idols to the clothes and the earrings. Repentance shows itself in what surrounds us.
- Bethel. What passes at Shechem will never do at Bethel; the place you are going to sets the standard.
- Lead. One revived man led a whole household out of idolatry — yet he still held on to unrighteous gains, so the cleansing was not complete.
and we will arise, and go up to Bethel; and I will make there an altar to the God that answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way that I went.
Jacob has settled at Shechem, and his sons' violence has left him fearing for his life. God answers with a call back to Bethel, not a rebuke, and this verse is Jacob's reply.
Restoration does not start where the failure left the believer. God names the highest point, not the present one.
When there is failure or decline, the Lord calls the soul back to Himself. "Remember therefore from where you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first." This is the divine principle of restoration. God must recall the soul to the very highest point. He must bring it back to the divine standard. The Lord does not say, "remember where you are." He says, "remember the high position you have fallen from." Only this way can a person learn how far he has slipped, and how to retrace his steps.
The strange gods had been in Jacob's tents for years. What changed was not what he knew, but where he stood.
The thought of God's presence made him remember the false gods. It awakens this conviction in him: the gods this world adores can never be kept alongside a faithful God. Nothing else can awaken this conviction. No amount of experience can ever have the effect that the presence of God produces on a soul. Such experiences are useful to humble us; they are a means of stripping us of ourselves. Still, only the presence of God as light can make us condemn ourselves. Only it gives us power to purify ourselves from our deepest idols — the ones we know well, yet keep hidden.
Jacob's orders reach past belief to clothes and daily habits. One writer also gives a plain test for an idol.
Garments speak of people's habits, the part of a person others see. God's character must shape them where the people of God gather. Someone takes his place at the breaking of bread, remembering the Lord Jesus in His death. He then stands completely apart from the world around him. He takes this place as sanctified, so his habits must match it... An idol is anything that comes in between the soul and God.
Years earlier at Bethel, Jacob had made a vow. Notice what he leaves out of his speech now.
He fully acknowledges how faithful God had been in keeping His promise. But about his own vow to God on that occasion he says nothing at all. It has taken him some time to learn that God is truly more faithful than Jacob was. But even as believers we fail here far too often. We forget to give God credit for being completely dependable in every detail of His ways with us. And we think too highly of our own faithfulness.
The last words of the verse hand God's own promise back to Him.
Here he is, after all the discipline and trial, worshipping God as the faithful God. That God had answered him in the day of his distress, and had been with him in the way he had gone. The moment God put him under discipline, He said, "Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go." And Jacob says, "He has been with me. Yes, He is the God who has been with us all the way, even while we failed on the road."
Commentators differ over how full Jacob's praise is. One writer asks which rescue Jacob had in mind.
When was the day of his distress? Not Luz, but Jabbok. God would recall Bethel to his mind; Jacob's thoughts turn back to Peniel. The Lord poured out grace at Bethel, but at Peniel Jacob sought, and by force obtained, a blessing after his own mind. The God of glory he cuts down in thought to someone who was with him in the way he went — a crooked way, a transgressing way indeed.
Jacob had already built an altar at Shechem. This one must be different.
It was at Bethel that he had learned what God was, and not at Shechem. So he must get back to Bethel again. The altar there must rest on a totally different basis, and carry a totally different name, from his altar at Shechem. Some think it makes no difference how they are mixed up with impure things in the worship of God. They feel that being true and upright in heart is enough. They think they can worship God at Shechem, and that an altar named "El-elohe-Israel" is just as much according to God as an altar named "El Bethel." This is clearly a mistake.
- Called. God restores by naming the height a believer fell from, not the level he has sunk to.
- Convicted. Jacob knew about the idols for years. Only God's presence turned that knowledge into judgment; trouble alone never does.
- Cleansed. Idols out, clothes changed: the call reaches habits and outward life. An idol is whatever comes between the soul and God.
- Confessed. Jacob's altar praises God's faithfulness and never mentions his own vow. We rate our faithfulness too high and His too low.
- Completed. An altar at Shechem is not the same as an altar at Bethel. Only the whole way back gives worship its right name.
And they gave to Jacob all the strange gods that were in their hand, and the rings that were in their ears, and Jacob hid them under the terebinth that [is] by Shechem.
God had called Jacob up to Bethel, and Jacob told his household to put away their foreign gods. They obey here — earrings and all — and the question is how idols had lasted so long in his camp.
Jacob had not just discovered these images. He had lived alongside them, and one thing finally brought them out.
These false gods came from his connection with the world. Rachel was afraid of Laban, so she had hidden them under the camel's saddle. Jacob knew perfectly well they were there... The thought of the presence of God made him remember the false gods. It convinces him deep down that no one can keep the gods this world adores alongside a faithful God. Nothing else can awaken this conviction. No experiences whatever can produce on a soul the effect that the presence of God produces. Such experiences are useful to humble us; they strip us of ourselves. Yet only the presence of God as light can make us condemn ourselves. Only it gives us power to purify ourselves from our deepest and best-known, though hidden, idols.
The place Jacob had chosen was part of the problem.
What a terrible amount of moral evil had gathered round Jacob's family! He judged none of it, until the call to "go up to Bethel" roused his soul. Shechem was not the place to detect all this. The air there was too full of impure elements. It kept the soul from seeing the true character of evil with any clearness.
Some of these idols had a history inside Jacob's own family.
Jacob's household gives up their foreign gods. The verse says all of them. So these must have included the household idols that Rachel had stolen from her father. We are not told when Jacob learned of these. But at least he knew it now.
Jacob could have removed the idols long before. Why did he let them stay?
Jacob feels his sin in going along with the idolatrous practices in his family. Rachel stole the images from her father — was it his love for her that led Jacob to allow them in his house? Christian parents sometimes allow things in their homes that they know are wrong. It is a sin in them. When human affection gets in the way of faithfulness to God, it always brings sorrow.
The verse names the rings in their ears next to the gods. Why should jewellery go with idols?
Idolatry ran through even their little ornaments, and so all of them had to go.
Another writer asks what hands and ears are for.
Hands are for doing work. They had idols in their hands. Hands are for working for the Lord, not for idols. Ears are for hearing, not for ornaments. People often decorate the flesh, and their idols take their character from this. That is what happened in the making of the golden calf — they took off their gold earrings to make it.
The burial is not a private act of tidying. It is the end of a chapter, and the family moves the same day.
Someone who feels and enjoys abounding grace cannot allow pollution. Gods and earrings, idols and empty things, all go together into the ground under an oak at Shechem. Shechem is left behind. The patriarch gets up with all that is his, and is quickly on the road to Bethel.
Writers see a picture in the tree itself — the terebinth, or oak, of the verse.
Jacob realised that much in his house did not fit the holiness of the House of God. So he told his household to put away the foreign gods, to be clean, and to change their garments. He hid the idols under the oak by Shechem — usually taken as a picture of the meaning of the cross of Christ. Behind all the circumstances was the hand of God in discipline.
The very next line reports that the surrounding cities did not attack. Jacob had feared exactly this after the slaughter at Shechem.
"And they journeyed; and the terror of God was on the cities that were round about them, and they did not pursue after the sons of Jacob." The living God knows how to control and direct the heart, not only of enemies, but of those who naturally resent an injury. Let His children fear Him, and trust Him too.
Commentators differ on how complete this cleansing was. One reading notes that Jacob buried the idols but kept the plunder his sons had taken.
Jacob judges Laban's gods and tells his household to be clean and change their garments. Yet he holds on with a greedy hand to unrighteous gain. He may hide the foreign gods and their earrings under the oak by Shechem — but they go with flocks and herds to seek the Lord.
- Light exposes. Jacob already knew the idols were there. The call to Bethel — the presence of God — is what made him act.
- Place dulls. The air of Shechem kept him from seeing evil. Where you settle shapes what your conscience can spot.
- Tolerance costs. The images came from Rachel's theft, and Jacob's love for his family let them stay. Affection that pushes out faithfulness always ends in sorrow.
- Everything goes. The earrings went with the gods. Idolatry had reached the ornaments, so the ornaments had to go.
- Then movement. The idols go under the oak, Shechem drops behind, and the road runs to Bethel. Yet one writer says Jacob still held on to gains he should have given up.
And they journeyed; and the terror of God was upon the cities that were round about them, and they did not pursue after the sons of Jacob.
Jacob has just buried his household's idols under the tree at Shechem and set out for Bethel. He leaves behind a region with every reason to want revenge for what his sons did there. On that road no one came after him. God put fear on the towns around him instead.
Nothing in Jacob's own strength made him safe. The towns nearby knew what his sons had done. One commentator names the only reason they stayed home.
They obey God and travel to Bethel. Of course the other cities around Shechem would know about the destruction Jacob's sons had caused. But one thing only kept them from chasing Jacob's company: God's restraining hand, putting fear in their hearts (v. 5).
Before the protection came the clear-out. Jacob's household gave up their idols and even their earrings. One writer sees the same picture in the journey that followed as in Israel leaving Egypt.
A man who feels and enjoys God's abounding grace cannot allow pollution. Gods and earrings, idols and worthless things all go into the ground together under an oak at Shechem, and they leave Shechem behind. Jacob gets up with everything he owns and is soon on the road to Bethel… And the Lord goes with him, as He later went with Israel on the day of their Exodus. He goes with him in strength too. The rod of Moses opened Israel's way in the face of their enemies, and the One in the cloud looked out and threw Pharaoh's army into confusion. So now we read of Jacob and his household: "As they journeyed, a terror from God fell upon the cities that were around them, so that they did not pursue the sons of Jacob."
The towns around Shechem were not just hostile strangers. They had a real grievance against Jacob's sons. That makes God's control of them more striking.
Idolatry had spread even to their little ornaments — the rings in their ears — so all of them had to go. The living God knows how to control and direct the heart. He can do it with enemies, and He can do it with people who have a natural reason to resent an injury. So let His children fear Him and trust Him at the same time.
Jacob was weaker now than ever. He was limping, and on the road instead of settled. That is when the protection came.
"Our God is a consuming fire," and His saints must not forget it. They must own that first, before it goes out in power and makes itself felt for them. While Jacob was a servant in Padan-Aram, and Laban was oppressing him (Gen. 31:38-41), he was far from the place of testimony, and God did not step in for him. But now Jacob is obedient, and crippled, and on the road again. He looks weaker than before. That is when the Spirit writes of him, as he journeyed: "a terror from God fell upon the cities that were around them," and they did not pursue Jacob. (Gen. 35:5.) The secret lies in that limp. He has learned that he is walking in the way with God — that kept him in order — and then God makes those who would hinder His poor servant feel the power of His presence. It is the same today. Paul learned it on his own road. "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses," he says, "so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (2 Cor. 12:9.)
The protected journey has a destination. One writer traces the whole sequence — the call, the buried idols, the untouched march — to where it ends.
At the worst of his distress God's voice stirs Jacob to "go up to Bethel and dwell there." Then we hear of foreign gods in his household to put away, and of a cleansing to meet Him "who answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way I went." Then the terror of God falls on the cities round about, so that they do not pursue the sons of Jacob. At Bethel his wandering ends. His new name is confirmed to him, and God declares His own name, as at Peniel He could not. The blessing is now fully his. Jacob bows in gratitude and recognises the house of God. There, the purpose of the discipline accomplished, he finds his rest at last.
- Call. God told Jacob to go up to Bethel. The safety in this verse belongs to a journey God commanded.
- Cleansing. The idols and even the earrings went under the tree at Shechem first. Parting with them came before the protection on the road.
- Cover. No human strength held the cities back. Only God's restraining hand, putting fear in their hearts, kept them from pursuing.
- Crippled. God did not step in while Jacob lived far from the place of testimony. The power showed when Jacob was limping and obedient. Paul learned the same lesson and gloried in his weakness.
- Completion. The protected road ends at Bethel. There the wandering stops, God confirms the new name, and Jacob finds rest.
And Jacob came to Luz, which is in the land of Canaan, that is, Bethel, he and all the people that were with him.
Jacob's long detour ends here. Years after he first left this place, he walks back into it. This time he does not come alone, and the place carries a new name.
God had not asked Jacob for a fresh start somewhere new. He sent him to the one place where their dealings had begun.
In calling him back to the land of promise, God revealed Himself to him as "the God of Bethel," reminding him of the pillar he anointed and the vow that he made. So he was called back to the beginning of his direct dealings with God. This is always God's way with His people. We may wander away, but we have to come back to the very spot we left. The point of departure proves to be the place of recovery.
God had been patient with the years in between, but He never lowered the target.
This was true restoration. Jacob was brought back, after all his wanderings, to the very point from which he had started. Nothing less than this could ever satisfy God in reference to His servant. He could wait for him, bear with him, serve him, care for him and look after him. But He could never be satisfied with anything less than this — "Arise, go up to Bethel."
The verse gives both the old name and the new. Commentators differ on what Luz means. One takes it as separation, and ties that closely to what Bethel means.
Luz means "separation" and Bethel means "the house of God". The two things go together. If anyone is to value the house of God at all, there must be separation from everything else. The house of God stands alone. Nothing else can come near it. It is perfect and pure. God wants every believer at that place.
Another reading takes Luz to mean a curve, and reads it as a comment on Jacob's own life.
The old name of the place was Luz, which means a curve. It showed what Jacob's life had been — far from straight. But now for Jacob it was Bethel, the dwelling place of God, and it had a very important place in Jacob's later history.
The name goes back to Jacob's first night there. God Himself later took it up as His own.
Bethel means "house of God". It was the name given to the place where God first appeared to Jacob in a dream. It led him to say, "Surely the LORD is in this place... This is none other than the house of God... and he called the name of that place Bethel." In this way God let Jacob understand that the house of God on earth — the gate of heaven — would be tied to him and his descendants. Later God acknowledged the place and the name, saying, "I am the God of Bethel."
The verse notes that the whole household came with him. Jacob had already settled what could not come with them.
Jacob felt that he could not bring false gods and defiled clothes to Bethel. Such things might pass at Shechem, but at Bethel they would never do.
Arriving at Bethel changed how Jacob spoke of God. Compare the altar he had built earlier near Shechem with the one he builds now.
He called it "El-Bethel," which means "the God of the house of God." That was much higher ground than the altar he built near Shechem and called "El-eloheh Israel," that is, "God the God of Israel." Self was the centre of his thoughts when he used the earlier name; it expressed his trust that God would look after him. But at Bethel he rose to the thought of having to do with God in His own house. So everything about himself now had to suit the holy One who dwelt there.
- Called. God's word to Jacob was not "start somewhere new" but "go up to Bethel". The place he left becomes the place of recovery.
- Cleansed. Idols and defiled clothes could pass at Shechem. Jacob would not take them to Bethel.
- Company. Jacob does not arrive alone. The whole household must suit the place he is heading for.
- Canaan. Bethel stands in the land of promise. God first appeared to Jacob there, and later called Himself "the God of Bethel".
- Centred on God. The altar's name moves from God as my God to God as the God of His own house. That raises the standard for everything in Jacob's life.
And he built there an altar, and called the place El-beth-el; because there God had appeared to him when he fled from the face of his brother.
Jacob has come back to the exact spot where God first met him. The altar he raises there carries a name he had never used before. The verse ties three things together: a place, an altar, and a memory of God appearing to a man on the run.
Mackintosh reads the altar's name as the close of all Jacob's wandering.
"El-beth-el." A precious title, which had God as its beginning and its end! This was true restoration. Jacob was brought back, after all his wanderings, to the very point from which he had started. Nothing less than this could ever satisfy God concerning His servant. He could wait patiently on him, bear with him, minister to him, care for him. But He could never rest satisfied with anything short of this — "Arise, go up to Bethel."
Going up to Bethel changed what Jacob was willing to carry with him.
Jacob felt that he could not bring false gods and defiled garments to Bethel: such things might pass at Shechem, but they would never do for Bethel.
"Bethel" means house of God, so "El-bethel" means the God of the house of God. Fereday sets the name beside the altar Jacob had built earlier near Shechem.
Notice again how Jacob connected the presence of God with the place. In calling it "El-Bethel," which means "the God of the house of God," he took much higher ground. Earlier he had built an altar near Shechem and called it "El-eloheh Israel," that is, "God the God of Israel" (Gen. 33:20). The earlier name put self at the centre of his thoughts. It expressed his trust that God would look after him. At Bethel he rose to the thought of having to do with God in His own house. So everything connected with himself had to be suitable to the holy One who dwelt there.
Kelly points to what the earlier name left out.
It is not now an altar called by a name that limits God to himself, like El-Elohe-Israel. His faith is now clearer and fuller. He is the God of God's house, which is richer, better, and higher up towards the source of blessing.
The verse looks back: God appeared here when Jacob was running from Esau. God's command and Jacob's altar both reach past all that came in between.
After this we find God saying to Jacob, "Arise, go up to Bethel and dwell there. Make an altar there to the God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau." Here He begins, if we may say so, to volunteer. He passes over what we have been considering, as if nothing had happened. "You had to flee from Esau," He says. "I promised you blessing. Get back to this place, and raise an altar there."
Grant draws out the town's older name, and where the altar put Jacob's focus.
They arrive at Bethel. The passage reminds us that it was called Luz before, which means "separation." We must realise that the house of God has a place separated from the world and from all that suggests man's work. Here Jacob builds an altar, calling it "El-Bethel" (v. 7)… We never have any proper focus in our lives until we reach this point and realise that God's house and its interests are to claim the first place. Today of course we know that the house of God is "the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth" (1 Tim. 3:15).
- Back. God will not settle for a halfway Shechem. He calls His servant back to the point he started from. That return is what restoration means.
- Barred. What Shechem tolerated, Bethel would not. False gods and defiled garments could not be carried up to the house of God.
- Beyond self. The first altar named God as the God of Israel — Jacob's own God. The second names Him God of His own house. Jacob's faith is clearer, fuller, nearer the source of blessing.
- Because. The name looks back to God appearing to a man on the run. God repeats that reason as if nothing had gone wrong since.
- Belonging. Bethel was once Luz, which means "separation." God's house stands apart, and its interests claim first place. Today that house is the church.
And Deborah, Rebecca's nurse, died; and she was buried beneath Bethel, under the oak; and the name of it was called Allon-bachuth.
Jacob has obeyed the call to Bethel and built his altar there. The very next thing recorded is the death of an old woman who had nursed his mother. Why does Scripture pause over a servant's funeral, and why is the tree that marks her grave given a name meaning weeping?
Scripture names her only twice, and a lifetime lies between the two mentions. One summary traces her life from the day Rebekah left home to the day of her burial:
Rebekah's nurse: she went with her mistress when she left Padan-aram and stayed with her until her death. She was buried under the "oak of weeping." Genesis 24:59; Genesis 35:8.
She ends her life in Jacob's household, not Isaac's. Kelly reads that as affection on both sides:
It is remarkable that she should have joined Jacob's household, no doubt after Rebekah's death. With her mistress gone, her heart turned to Rebekah's beloved son. That they repaid her love is plain from the record of their tears.
Nothing here is filler. Scripture records the death of a household helper because God wants His people to feel that loss:
The Holy Spirit did not record the death of Deborah, Rebekah's nurse, without purpose and interest, nor the oak of weeping where she was buried at Bethel. God means His people to feel the gap left by a faithful servant of the household. That is all the more true when the faithfulness reaches far back over long years. Scripture is silent even about when Rebekah died. But we may be sure the aged nurse stayed with her beloved mistress at least until then.
Deborah was not the only nurse held in honour. Paul used the same picture for his own care of young believers:
Old Testament times held such women in esteem. Deborah, Rebekah's nurse, was one of them, Genesis 35:8… Paul said, "We were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children." 1 Thessalonians 2:7.
The place name is the point. One writer reads Jacob's return severely and sets the two names side by side — God's house, and the oak of weeping:
He has returned to this land, to this very spot — and with what result! He has come again to Bethel, and he does not know Jehovah. The stone set up as God's house marks nothing for him… So El-bethel is only Allon-bachuth — no gate of heaven, but an oak of weeping.
The tears do not cancel what follows. God appears to Jacob again right after. One writer sees the pattern running both ways:
Arriving at Bethel, things began to move quickly. The first recorded event is the death of Deborah, who had been nurse to Jacob's mother. This marks a break with the past. Then the Almighty appeared again and confirmed the promises of God… But God's ways often run like this. Fresh grace from Him is followed by fresh losses on the human side.
Another writer treats the weeping as discipline that belongs to real worship:
He is not without chastening, "for the Lord disciplines the one he loves." (Hebrews 12:6.) Deborah dies and there is weeping. Where there is true worship, sin must also be judged at its roots. Now God appears again, and Jacob hears his new name again.
Some writers also see a larger picture in this burial. Grant links Deborah to Rebekah, and takes Rebekah as a figure of the church:
There is a striking dispensational picture here too. Jacob and his company illustrate the returned remnant of Israel, brought back to God's place for them after long years of wandering. This is why we are told in verse 8 that Deborah, Rebekah's nurse, died and was buried under an oak. Rebekah had been a type of the church, the bride of Isaac, who is a type of Christ. So the death of Deborah tells us that "the times of the Gentiles" are finished: the nursing of a heavenly hope comes to an end, because Israel's earthly hope has at last been reached.
Darby draws the same line slightly differently, making Deborah the one who cared for the church in its infancy rather than the bride herself:
Rebekah was the heavenly church, as we have seen, brought by the Holy Spirit to Christ; Deborah was its earthly Jewish caretaker in infancy — its nurse — what went along with it, but was not the bride.
- Faithful. Deborah left home with Rebekah, stayed with her to the end, then joined the household of Rebekah's son.
- Felt. God records her death so His people would feel the gap a faithful servant leaves.
- Repaid. Their tears prove the love was returned; the tree is named after the weeping, not after the woman.
- Named. The place that should have been the house of God is now also the oak of weeping — the same ground carries both names.
- Followed. The loss stands between an altar and a fresh appearance of God: grace, then sorrow, then the new name confirmed.
And God appeared to Jacob again after he had come from Padan-Aram, and blessed him.
Jacob has come back to Bethel, where God first met him years before, and God appears there a second time. Why did God wait for this spot? And why does the blessing come with no conditions?
The word "again" covers a great deal of ground. Years of delay lie between the first Bethel and this one:
Jacob's steps to Bethel had been slow indeed. His stay in Paddan-aram was long. Then came delay in Succoth and in Shechem. At last sin and sorrow, shame and fear drove him out — yet God was always faithful and true.
Scripture passes over all of it. The verse treats Jacob as if he had only just arrived from Paddan-aram:
Everything shows that now he has really reached the goal. All his journeys in the land are passed over in the quiet words which treat him as just come back to it.
Earlier, Jacob had wrestled with God for a blessing. Here nothing of the kind happens:
He appeared to Jacob, and there was no wrestling. He appeared to him and blessed him. It all comes from God. God speaks freely and fully. He does not ask, "What is your name?" He had called his name Israel before. That was part of the discipline and exercise, though it gave him strength. Now He takes it into His own hands and gives it of Himself. It is not Jacob wrestling for the blessing; he does not even have to ask God His name.
What God does not say is as striking as what He says. He brings up nothing from Jacob's past:
God at this hour speaks with Jacob, without saying anything at all about his experiences. He had been unfaithful, so these experiences were needed to chasten him and empty him of himself. God Himself appeared to him now, unasked... He gave him the name of Israel, as if He had not given it to him before. And He reveals His name to him, though Jacob never asked for it.
Jacob had already received the name Israel at Peniel, where he wrestled with God, yet God gives it to him again here:
As if to show how practically ineffective Peniel had been, He gives him afresh the name which He had given him there. "And God said to him, Your name is Jacob" — still Jacob! — "no longer shall your name be called Jacob, but Israel shall be your name." So we learn this: if weakness is the secret of strength — and it is — that strength is only for walking in God's ways. Israel must come to Bethel to be Israel.
The new name is God's own act, and with it He takes away a reproach:
The same grace that refused to call him Jacob any more declares his name from now on to be Israel; and He who loves to roll away every reproach from off His people writes this new name upon him, sealing it as His own act, for "He called his name Israel."
The name the verse uses for God fits the kind of blessing He gives:
It was no longer Jacob begging God for His blessing: God of His own accord appeared and blessed him... The blessing is gracious, but it is in a lower key and more general in character, as suited the name God (Elohim) rather than the name LORD (Jehovah). Still, God truly revealed Himself to Jacob, unasked, as He had to Abraham and Isaac, by the title that belonged to those fathers: El-Shaddai, God Almighty. None of them needed that assurance of protecting power as much as that "worm" Jacob.
One promise from the first Bethel is missing here, because God had already kept it:
In some respects this is almost a repetition of what God said the first time at Bethel, except that He did not say, "I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land." God had accomplished His purpose in Jacob. All He did then was to tell him two things. First, He drew attention to His own Person: He was God Almighty. Second, He drew attention to His promise, which could not fail. He remained as He was, and His promises could not change.
Bethel means "house of God." Jacob's recovery is complete there, not at Shechem:
At Shechem, Jacob called his altar "El-elohe-Israel," that is, "God, the God of Israel." But at Bethel, the true standpoint, he called his altar "El-beth-el," that is, God — the house of God. This was true restoration. Jacob was brought back, after all his wanderings, to the very point from which he had started. Nothing less than this could ever satisfy God regarding His servant.
- Again. God's second appearance comes at the same spot as the first, and Scripture skips the years between as though Jacob had only just come back.
- Unasked. No wrestling, no begging — God appears of His own accord and blesses, and Jacob does not even have to ask His name.
- Unmentioned. God says nothing about Jacob's failures; the chastening had done its work of emptying him of himself.
- Renamed. God gives the Peniel name again and seals it as His own act — Israel must come to Bethel to be Israel.
- Unchanging. The blessing rests on two things that cannot move: God Almighty Himself, and a promise that cannot fail.
And God said to him, Thy name is Jacob thy name shall not henceforth be called Jacob, but Israel shall be thy name. And he called his name Israel.
At Bethel God appears to Jacob a second time and names him Israel. But Jacob already had that name from Peniel, years earlier — so why give it again here, as if for the first time?
The two names carry two histories. One came to Jacob at birth; God gives the other. Notice how God speaks here:
His name is not to be called Jacob any more, the supplanter, but Israel, the wrestler or prince of God. The manner is striking. For God speaks of it as if it were given then, and not merely confirmed. That suited a man who had come back to the land, and was not a fugitive from his father's house.
Some read Genesis 32 and Genesis 35 as two versions of one story. The two scenes differ in character:
God confirms the name of Israel to Jacob; but there is no double account of its origin. On the first occasion God had a controversy with Jacob. Yet He blesses him, strengthens him to prevail in the conflict, and gives him the name of Israel — "a prince who prevailed with God." Still He chastises him, and does not reveal Himself to him (Genesis 32:28). After this Jacob goes up to the place of his real meeting with God in blessing. He puts away idols out of his house, knowing he is going to meet Him. Then God begins by freely revealing His name, and confirms to Jacob the title He had given him before.
Between Peniel and Bethel, people still called him Jacob. Where God met him mattered:
Here at Bethel God appears to Jacob again to bless him. He confirms that His servant's name was Jacob — which was not to be forgotten — and yet he was to be called Israel. This name was to have its full significance in God's place for him. It speaks of the dignity to which God had raised him by grace, "a prince with God." God had changed his name before (Genesis 32:28), yet people still spoke of him only as Jacob until he came to Bethel. In fact, even after this he is sometimes called Israel, but more often Jacob.
At Peniel God asked Jacob his name, and Jacob held on for the blessing. Here God asks for nothing, and Jacob drags nothing out of Him:
He appeared to Jacob, and there was no wrestling. He appeared to him and blessed him. It is all coming from God — God speaking freely and fully, not asking, "What is your name?" He had called his name Israel before. That was part of the discipline and exercise, though it gave him strength. He is now taking it into His own hands and giving it of Himself. It is not Jacob wrestling for the blessing; he does not even have to ask God His name.
The verse does not stop at the announcement. The last clause carries the weight:
The same grace that refused to call him Jacob any more declares that from now on his name is Israel. He loves to roll away every reproach from off His people. So He writes this new name upon him, sealing it as His own act, for "He called his name Israel."
Speaking the name as if for the first time also passes over the years since Peniel. That is not a comfortable thought:
"He called his name Israel" — blotting out in one sense all the history from the day when that name was first given to him. It is a sorrowful reflection for the heart when time past is, so to speak, time lost.
Jacob reached Bethel only after telling his household to put away their foreign gods. One writer turns this on the reader:
There has been inconsistency. Perhaps you have been away from God, and you have had chastening to remind you of it. God must have you with Himself to bring out what is there. He will bring your own name up. You won't get Israel without being Jacob with God.
- Name one. Jacob means the supplanter — the name he carried from birth, and the name God makes him own before anything changes.
- Name two. Israel means prince of God — a dignity Jacob never earned, and here he does not even wrestle for it.
- Named twice. Peniel gave the name under chastening. Bethel gives it in open blessing. This is confirmation, not a rival account.
- Named by God. The verse ends with God Himself doing the calling, sealing the new name as His own act.
- Named where you stand. The name took hold only when Jacob reached God's place and left the idols behind. No one gets Israel without first being Jacob with God.
And God said to him, I am the Almighty God be fruitful and multiply; a nation and a company of nations shall be of thee; and kings shall come out of thy loins.
At Bethel, Jacob buries the household idols. God then appears to him again and tells him His name. What follows is a promise of children, nations and kings — tied not to the schemer Jacob, but to the man God has just renamed Israel.
The command to go up to Bethel exposed what Jacob had been carrying for years. One writer follows the order of events.
God says, "Arise, go up to Bethel and dwell there." The moment God says so, out comes what Jacob knew all along he had never finished with. There was a pile of idols in the house, and now he thinks about it. He knew about them all along; but there is no real putting away of idols until we come into the presence of God. Notice: once the idols were buried, the first thing God did was to tell him His name. He had not done so before, but now it is the first thing. God appeared to him and said, "I am God Almighty" — the name He had given Himself to Abraham.
God had held that name back until now. One writer explains the delay as God's own reserve:
God was faithful to Jacob, but Jacob was not yet faithful to God. God still kept up reserve, and could not yet reveal His name as He did to Abraham and Isaac, and would in due time to Jacob (Gen. 35:11). There was not the self-judgment that made the way for it.
The title is El Shaddai. Writers read its two parts in more than one way.
Writers say the word El means strength, or omnipotence. Some think Shaddai means the same. Others prefer to render it all-sufficient, or self-sufficiency. Either way, the two words together carry divine attributes. Only God has omnipotence and all-sufficiency.
Of the three fathers given this title, Jacob needed it most.
Still God reveals Himself to Jacob, truly and unasked, as He did to Abraham and Isaac, by the title that belonged to the fathers: El-Shaddai, God Almighty. No one of the fathers needed that assurance of protecting might as much as that "worm" Jacob.
The renaming in verse 10 is spoken as if it had never happened before. One writer hears God dropping the old name entirely:
Jacob has got rid of all his strange gods, and he is meeting God where God can reveal Himself, and give him the new name of "Israel." He does it now as if He had never done it before. 'I know nothing,' He says, 'of the supplanter, you are now strong with God.'
That change of name carries weight for everything promised in verse 11. The blessing is not hung on the man who bought a birthright with a bowl of stew.
Unbelief drove God back on Himself. He fixes Jacob in his place on earth as Jacob the supplanter — "Your name is Jacob." And He hangs His purposes on the new man, Israel: even Jacob's own promises, the birthright bought with a bowl of stew.
The same might that brought Jacob home stands behind what God now promises.
He had shown His sovereign might in keeping His promise to greatly bless Jacob and bring him back to the land. Now He will show that power again. He will multiply Jacob's descendants, make him into a nation and a company of nations, and decide that kings would come from him. His promise in Genesis 28:13-15 had been absolute, with no conditions attached. This promise is also unconditional, but adds the words about "a nation and a company of nations" and kings.
Who is the "company of nations"? One writer answers from Israel's own history.
Some say this refers to the great nations of Canada, Australia, New Zealand and so on. But note that Jacob was the father of the twelve tribes. Why should this promise be limited to ten of them? Kings certainly came from Jacob's body, as we see in the long line from David to Zedekiah. The children of Israel did become a nation, and the twelve tribes were like twelve nations making up the nation.
Each name God reveals sets the terms for those who receive it.
"Jehovah" is the name of relationship taken with Israel, as "Shaddai" with the patriarchs. God revealed Himself to the fathers as "El Shaddai," and they were to walk in the faith of that name. He revealed Himself as Jehovah to Moses and Israel, and they were to walk in the faith of that. He has revealed Himself to us as Father, and so we are to walk.
- Bury — The idols only came out when Jacob came into God's presence. Nothing else brings hidden things to light.
- Name — The moment Jacob buried them, God gave the name He had held back: El Shaddai, the omnipotent and all-sufficient One.
- Rename — God does not build on Jacob the supplanter. He hangs His purposes on the new man, Israel.
- Promise — A nation, a company of nations and kings hang on that new name, with no conditions. Israel's own history met it: twelve tribes, and kings from David to Zedekiah.
- Walk — Each name God gives is meant to be lived on. The fathers walked by Shaddai, Israel by Jehovah, and we by Father.
And the land that I gave Abraham and Isaac, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed after thee will I give the land.
God meets Jacob again at Bethel, the place where He first made Himself known to him years before. This time God comes unasked, and gives him the land He had already promised to Abraham and Isaac — two men who died owning none of it.
Jacob did not ask for this meeting. God takes the initiative, and speaks to him as He once spoke to Abraham:
God Himself appeared to him now, though Jacob had not asked Him to. We read in Genesis 35:9, "God appeared to Jacob again, when he came from Paddan-aram, and blessed him." He gave him the name of Israel, as if He had not given it to him before. And He reveals His own name to him, though Jacob never asked for it. He talks with him as He once did with Abraham. He renews the promises, and confirms them to him — at least those which relate to Israel. And when He had finished speaking with him, God went up from him, for He had visited him.
God had already set the terms at this same place, years before:
At Bethel, in Genesis 28, God declared what He would be for Jacob and to Jacob. He raised no question about Jacob's response or behaviour. Now God is always true to Himself and to His word. Before God gave the law through Moses, He was dealing with these patriarchs on the basis of His promises in grace, and those promises stand.
In the same breath God calls Himself "God Almighty". That name carried a guarantee long before Jacob heard it:
As the Almighty, God promised to be a God to Abraham and to his descendants after him (Gen. 17:7)... The Name of the Almighty assured Abraham that God would do all He had promised. Isaac blessed Jacob in the Name of the Almighty (Gen. 28:3). And when God changed Jacob's name to Israel, He said, "I am God Almighty… The land that I gave to Abraham and Isaac I will give to you" (Gen. 35:9–12). Jacob uses the Name of the Almighty in Genesis 43:14, 48:3 and 49:25. He knew the almighty power of the One who had blessed him despite all his failures.
The verse gives the land twice over — to Jacob, and to his descendants. Commentators place this in a line of promises that carry no strings:
In Genesis 15 the promise rests on a covenant God made with Abraham, again without condition. It is an absolute gift of the country... In Genesis 17:7-8, the promise of the earth is renewed. These are confirmed to Isaac (Gen. 26:3-4), and to Jacob (Gen. 35:10, 12). These are "the promises made to the fathers," and to Israel, "beloved for the sake of the fathers." God made them to Abraham without any condition, whether spiritual or earthly.
God speaks as if the land were already handed over, yet Abraham and Isaac died owning none of it. That gap carries a startling conclusion:
God never gave Abraham, Isaac or Jacob actual possession of the land of Israel while they were alive in their natural bodies. Yet He did promise them the land — not just to their children, but to themselves. So they must rise again to have that land promised to them. God gave them the land in promise, but they never owned it. They must therefore own it another day. And they cannot own it while they are dead, so they must live again to actually have the promised land.
Jacob receives the same promise of nations and kings that Abraham had. But this promise has a border:
He has, like Abraham in Gen. 17, the promise of nations and kings from his line; but nothing here goes beyond the bounds and glory of Israel and the land.
Jacob answers with a stone pillar — his third. The first two show what has changed:
His first had been one of confidence in the flesh (Gen. 28:18-22); his second was the pillar of broken confidence (Gen. 31:45), showing how untrustworthy the flesh is. This third is the pillar of confidence in God. This time he makes no vow. Instead he pours a drink offering and oil on the pillar, showing his genuine appreciation of God's faithfulness and grace.
- Grace first. God appears unasked and says nothing about Jacob's failures; the promises rest on God's word, not on Jacob's behaviour.
- Almighty backs it. God gives the land as "God Almighty" — the name that assured Abraham He would do all He promised.
- Given, not offered. God attaches no conditions, and the same unconditional promise runs from Abraham through Isaac to Jacob.
- Resurrection implied. Abraham and Isaac died without owning a foot of it, so they must live again to receive what God promised.
- Bounded but sure. God's promise here reaches no further than Israel and the land, and within those borders it stands.
And God went up from him in the place where he had talked with him.
At Bethel God had just appeared to Jacob, named Himself God Almighty, confirmed the name Israel and renewed the promises. Then, in the same place, He went up — and that quiet departure says much about the meeting Jacob had just had.
One writer traces the order of events at Bethel: buried idols, then a revealed name, then the parting.
There is no real putting away of idols until we get into the presence of God. Notice: when the idols are buried, the first thing God did was to tell him His name. He did not before, but now that is the first thing: "God appeared to him and said to him, I am God Almighty," the name He had given Himself to Abraham. And then, though the conversation was short, and there was no intercession for others, God went up from him just as He did from Abraham. You do not get as much bright blessing here, but God does reveal Himself now and talks with Jacob and does not wrestle with him.
The wording here is not new. God used similar terms of Abraham in Genesis 17:22, and one commentator calls it a favour to both men.
"Then God went up from him in the place where he had spoken with him." We may compare this favour to Jacob with the similar terms used of Abraham in Genesis 17:22. What grace to both! And what an unspeakable difference from the mythological dreams of gods mixing with Gentile mankind, even if these had been true!
That earlier scene also settles the timing of the departure. God was not interrupted and did not leave early:
God went up from him. He was talking with Abraham, and went only when He had finished. Abraham could present the desires of his heart to Elohim (God), and had a full answer, but God had His own purpose.
Why does God go up at all, instead of staying at Bethel? Because at this stage of the story He comes to His people but keeps no address on earth.
Creation denies the Lord God a rest or a dwelling, because of the sin that defiled it. He must rise and depart. It could not be His rest, for it was polluted. So we see Him at once as a stranger in the world His hands have made. This was not His place of staying. He visits His chosen ones who are in it. But in the days of the patriarchs — with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob — He does not make it a home. He communicates with them in marked, personal closeness, but He seeks no place on the earth. Still, He has a dwelling place here — in His purpose, and in what is still to come.
Jacob reached Bethel after years of struggle. One writer puts all such experience in its place.
Experiences are useful to bring us to God, but they all disappear when God reveals Himself.
Not every writer reads the departure as kindness. One writer takes the going up as a real withdrawal: God is finished with Jacob under that name, and what Jacob does next at the spot counts for little.
Jacob is passed over, and God's Israel alone is in view in this promise. So God went up from him in the place where He talked with him. He would never again acknowledge him in His record while he was in the land of Canaan, until by faith he goes out to God's separated man in Egypt. All is now lost for Jacob as such. He may set up a pillar of stone. He may begin his act of worship with an offering of thanksgiving. He may call the place where God spoke with him Bethel. But it comes to nothing.
So the same short sentence carries two readings: a gracious visit completed, or a solemn withdrawal. Commentators differ on the weight of the departure, not on the fact. God spoke with Jacob in that place, and then went up.
- Cleared — the idols went into the ground before God spoke His name. No one really puts idols away until he comes into God's presence.
- Spoken — Bethel was conversation, not conflict. God revealed Himself and talked with Jacob instead of wrestling with him.
- Finished — He went up only when He had finished; the departure marks a completed word, not an interrupted one.
- Visiting — God came near but kept no home on a defiled earth; He visited His chosen ones without seeking a place on it.
- Outlasting — the experiences that brought Jacob here fade when God reveals Himself. The revelation is what remains, not the struggle.
And Jacob set up a pillar in the place where he had talked with him, a pillar of stone, and poured on it a drink-offering, and poured oil on it.
Jacob is back at Bethel, and God has just appeared to him again and named him Israel. What Jacob does next — a stone pillar, wine poured out, oil poured out — is the first drink offering recorded in Scripture.
Jacob sets the pillar where God had spoken with him. One writer sees the spot itself as marked by grace.
Is it any wonder that Jacob set up a pillar of stone to mark that spot of divine grace? He poured a drink offering and oil upon it. He called its name Bethel with a fullness of honour unknown before.
Jacob had named this place Bethel years earlier. Now he names it again.
And now God reveals Himself almighty, as He did with Abraham, and confirms to Jacob the promise He had made to Abraham. Jacob sets up his pillar of stone, and pours his drink offering and oil upon it. He too names the place afresh — Bethel, as if he had never named it before. And he had never named it with understanding.
The first time God spoke to him here, Jacob bargained and made a vow. This time is different.
Jacob has his "Bethel." God had spoken to him from the top of the ladder, but now He comes down… This is not the half-fearing, half-worshipping cry, "How awesome is this place." He had been a "supplanter." His name, as a man, was "Jacob." But God will not give him that name. "Israel" is God's name for him… He has revealed Himself as "God Almighty," and Jacob can name the place "the house of God."
One writer weighs why this offering comes where it does.
I have long thought the "drink offering" was not so much the sacrifice — it was not a sacrifice at all. It was the divine delight gained as the result of a work done both for the pleasure of God and the blessing of His creature. That is why it always comes in last… Jacob poured out the first "drink offering" ever recorded in Scripture, Gen. 35:14. Here, I gather, it was the result of God's dealings with Jacob. At last he is in full communion with God, and from then on he moves in a way that pleases God… The sacrifice was offered up and so consumed. The "drink offering" was poured out and so remains.
A Bible dictionary sets out what the poured-out wine pictures:
This offering was not usually made on its own, but see Genesis 35:14… The drink offering may picture joy in the Spirit, in the sense of the value of Christ's work done for God's glory.
The pillar is Jacob's answer. He is answering God's settled purpose to bless him still.
God makes known the settled disposition of His heart still to bless Jacob. What comes of it is that Jacob puts up a pillar and pours a drink offering upon it, and oil upon it. He learns that God would still bless him, and he responds now to God. God has this in mind for us too. He would not only bless us in our circumstances. He would give us such a sense of Who He is, and that He is for us, that we adore Him as the God Who has shepherded us all our life.
Jacob once bargained with God here. One writer turns that into a warning.
No one will escape this moral distance by doing as Jacob did, and joining him as a bargainer with God, or a vow-maker. We must be receivers, and not givers. We must stay under the new name of Israel (after the wrestling is finished), for we are dead. Then "the fruit of the Spirit" takes the character David gave to his offerings and the offerings of the princes: "Of your own have we given you." Whatever comes from God goes back to Him in the sweet savour of Christ, who produces it in us.
Commentators differ here. One takes the act as coming too late in Jacob's story to count for much:
He may set up a pillar, a pillar of stone. He may open his act of worship with an offering of thanksgiving. He may call the place where God spoke with him Bethel. But it comes to nothing. He has no heart, and God no grace, until in Egypt he finds his forerunner, God's Heir.
- God speaks first. Jacob plants the pillar where God had talked with him — a stone marking a spot of grace, honoured as never before.
- Grace renames. God refuses the old name and gives His own, "Israel," before Jacob pours anything out. The response follows the blessing; it never buys it.
- Poured, not bargained. The first Bethel produced a vow and a tenth; this one produces wine and oil — receiving before giving, "Of your own have we given you."
- Joy that remains. The sacrifice is consumed and gone. The drink offering is poured out and stays — joy in the Spirit over a work done for God's pleasure.
- A man in communion. Commentators differ over how far Jacob had come. Still, the offering marks a man no longer wrestling, brought to adore the God who shepherded him all his life.
And Jacob called the name of the place where God had talked with him, Beth-el.
Jacob had named this spot years before. Now God has met him a second time, and he gives it the same name again. So what had changed, if not the word?
The name records what happened there: God spoke with him. One writer points to the difference in this second meeting — God came down to him — and to the name God revealed as He did so:
Jacob has his "Bethel." God had spoken to him from the top of the ladder, but now He comes down... He had been a "supplanter," a man who took another's place by scheming; his name, as a man, was "Jacob," but God will not give him that name. "Israel" is God's name for him... He has revealed Himself as "God Almighty," and Jacob is able to name the place "the house of God."
Some readers treat the two namings as proof that two separate stories were joined together here. One writer answers that the account itself calls the place Bethel before Jacob even arrives:
God appeared to Jacob when he left the land of Canaan, and he called the place "Bethel." On his return, God tells him to go up there, already calling it Bethel. Then God appears to Jacob there a second time, and Jacob confirms the name "Bethel." He had two reasons for it. But the second part of the story calls the place Bethel before he even gets there. The case is very simple and very clear, and there is no reason to speak of these as two separate, independent accounts.
Another writer says the second naming reads like a first, because Jacob spoke the first one without understanding it:
And now God reveals Himself as Almighty, as He did with Abraham, and confirms to Jacob the promise He had made to Abraham. Jacob sets up his pillar of stone and pours his drink offering and oil on it. He too names the place again — Bethel, as if he had never named it before. And he had not named it with understanding before.
Jacob had set up stones before, and one writer counts three of them. He reads each pillar by what Jacob was trusting at the time:
Then Jacob sets up his third pillar, which is his second at Bethel. His first was one of confidence in himself; his second was the pillar of broken confidence, showing that human nature cannot be trusted. This third is the pillar of confidence in God. This time he makes no vow, but pours a drink offering and oil on the pillar, which shows his genuine appreciation of the faithfulness and grace of God. He had named the place before, but naming it a second time surely shows that the meaning of this name has become vital and real to him.
Another writer contrasts what struck Jacob on each of his two visits:
On his first visit to Bethel, the holy character of the place struck him — God was in it. On his second visit, the grace and faithfulness of God filled his mind. So when he set the pillar up again, his first act expressed what he felt — feelings stirred by what God had just said to him.
Bethel means "house of God," yet no building stood there. One writer traces the title to God recording His name in mercy on that spot — and later on a bare threshing floor:
Wherever He records His name there is His house. Ornan's threshing floor was given the same honour long afterwards that Luz is given here, and on the same ground... For it was the place, like this Bethel of Jacob's, where mercy had triumphed over judgment, where God was revealing Himself in the abundance of His grace, and there faith sees the house of God.
One writer warns that calling a place God's house and submitting to its order are two different things:
He raised a pillar up and called it God's house, but he still kept going the wrong way. I expect many people have some respect for God's house and yet have no intention of submitting to the order of God's house... On the spot where Jacob raised the pillar there was a wilderness, but it was where God was. That is the important thing about God's house: it is where God Himself is.
- Named — Jacob calls the place Bethel, "house of God," because God spoke with him there. The meeting gives the name, not the monument.
- Named again — the repeat is no contradiction. The account calls the site Bethel before Jacob arrives; he only confirms it.
- Named knowingly — the second naming reads like a first, because Jacob spoke the first one without understanding it.
- Named without conditions — the earlier pillar came with a vow. This one carries a drink offering: confidence in God, not in himself.
- Named as a claim — respect for God's house is easy; submitting to its order is the harder lesson. What makes a spot matter is that God Himself is there.
And they journeyed from Bethel. And there was yet a certain distance to come to Ephrath, when Rachel travailed in childbirth; and it went hard with her in her childbearing.
Jacob has just met God at Bethel, and now he is on the road again. Rachel's labour turns dangerous while Ephrath is still some distance ahead — so why does the deepest sorrow so often follow the highest moment?
One writer traces what follows each stage of Jacob's moving on.
It was good for Jacob to be at Bethel: that seemed to be his right place. But "they journeyed from Bethel." At once the heaviest sorrow of his life fell on him: his dearly loved Rachel died. He journeys again (v. 21), and then comes the terrible wickedness of Reuben. He journeys again, and then comes his father's death. Then he lived in the land where his father was a stranger, and we read of the long series of troubles connected with Joseph.
Commentators differ on how to read that departure. Another writer reads Bethel as the point where a new kind of journey begins.
Since Jacob had reached Bethel, this becomes the starting point of a journey of a different kind. It is the same with a believer today: his path becomes different when he comes to value the truth of the house of God as he should. There are still trials. But he now looks at them with calm submission, instead of scheming in the flesh about how to meet them. Jacob journeys (v. 16), and near Ephrath (which means "fruitfulness"), Rachel goes into labour.
The hard birth was not just bad luck. One writer links it back to Rachel's own history. She had stolen her father's household idols and hidden it from Jacob.
The moral government of God, now along the way, fails no more than His grace from beginning to end. Rachel had greatly sinned and kept her husband in the dark, when he unknowingly said that the guilty one should not live. Her theft was not only a sin against her father, but in what she stole, a serious insult to God. And we have no evidence that she judged herself properly, either soon or ever. It is plain that Jacob in time became aware of idols in his household, and God's call to Bethel laid the sin of it on his conscience. To take his beloved away was a chastening, not to her only but to him also.
The account records no word of complaint from Jacob. One writer sees that silence as the mark of a changed man.
Rachel's death was certainly one of the most painful lessons that Jacob had to learn. It went deep into his soul, and yet in his history nothing is said about how Jacob felt about it. He mentioned it a long time later to Joseph... He felt it. Yet I think we now see in Jacob a submitted heart. He recognised that it had come from the hand of God, and he bowed to it. He had learnt his lesson, learnt to submit to God.
The verse names the spot with unusual care, and the name matters. Reference works note that Ephrath was the old name of the town: "Apparently it was originally called EPHRATH, Gen. 35:16, 19... It is once called BETH-LEHEM EPHRATAH, that is, the fruitful, for the ruler of Israel was to come from there. Micah 5:2." Jacob had no way of knowing what he was standing on.
Jacob set up a pillar of thanksgiving at Bethel, in the place where God talked with him. He never thought that so soon afterwards he would set up another pillar, this one of sorrow, on Rachel's grave. But he bows to the hand of chastening: the Lord disciplines the one He loves, and chastises every son whom He receives. Jacob could not know, since God had not yet revealed it, that the King of Israel would be born near this very Ephrath. That King is the pledge and picture of great David's greater Son, whose goings forth are from of old, from everlasting.
Rachel's roadside grave became a fixed landmark of grief. Long afterwards, when Jacob rehearsed this loss to Joseph, he still could not see the whole of what that ground would carry.
His faith could not grasp the distinction that was still to come to the place, for centuries had to pass before prophecy pointed to that spot as the birthplace of the great Ruler in Israel, whose goings forth have been from the days of eternity. It was to be the place where there was not only a mourning for Rachel, but also where there should be a great mourning, "Rachel weeping for her children," according to Matthew 2:18.
- Road — the sorrow begins with a move: "they journeyed from Bethel." Writers differ over what it means. Was Jacob drifting from the place God gave him, or starting a new stage of the walk?
- Labour — the hard birth falls under God's moral government, which "fails no more than His grace." It chastened Jacob as much as Rachel.
- Silence — Scripture records no complaint from Jacob. He felt the blow, yet took it from God's hand.
- Pillar — the man who raised a pillar of thanksgiving at Bethel soon raised a pillar of sorrow on a grave. He did not know what that ground would mean.
- Ephrath — the road where his hopes seemed to close ran on to the birthplace of Israel's King.
And it came to pass when it went hard with her in her childbearing, that the midwife said to her, Fear not; for this also is a son for thee.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it came to pass as her soul was departing -- for she died -- that she called his name Benoni; but his father called him Benjamin.
Rachel dies on the road just short of Bethlehem, and with her last breath she names the child who cost her life. Her husband at once gives him another name. Why the change, and what do the two names mean?
The verse describes death as the soul leaving the body. Scripture uses that same language elsewhere.
The general language of Scripture is that death means the departure of the soul and spirit from the body. Rachel, as her soul was departing, named her son Ben-oni (Gen. 35:18). As they stoned Stephen, he said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" (Acts 7:59).
Both names have a meaning, and one writer sets them side by side.
How deep, how absorbing her grief must have been! She tried to make her innocent baby carry the memory of it all his life. As she died she called her child Ben-oni — the son of my sorrow. But the child never bore that name. His father covered it at once and forever with Benjamin — the son of my right hand.
Jacob had just lost the wife he worked years for. His new name for the boy came out of faith.
He was the son of his mother's sorrow, and so she would have called him Benoni. But she died at his birth. Jacob lost a treasure he had worked long for, and a wife and friend he loved deeply. Yet in a faith that rose above his loss he named him Benjamin, son of his right hand. Jacob's weeping lasted for a night, and his joy came in the morning. He wept as though he did not weep, and the son of sorrow became the son of power and of victory.
Rachel died just outside Bethlehem. One writer draws out what that place meant for Jacob's hope.
There, near Bethlehem, where the true Son of the Right Hand would come into the world, Jacob shows his faith in God by the name he gives his son. In that place the door seemed to close on Jacob's deepest joys. Yet that same place held his brightest hopes safe, in the Baby to be born at Bethlehem.
Commentators read the double name as a picture of Christ — both what men did to Him and what God has done with Him.
She named him in keeping with her own condition, calling him Benoni, the son of my sorrow... She said Benoni as though she looked with the eye of faith down the passage of history. She saw that blessed Person of whom Isaiah wrote, "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." When Jacob renames his son, he too looks down the page of history with the eye of faith. He takes account of the Christ of God — not in relation to all that failing, sinful man could heap on Him, but in the light of the purpose and calling of God... So very early on the page of divine history God stamps two things: the path of the suffering of the Christ of God, and the path of triumph and glory that was bound to follow.
The same order — sorrow before power — shapes Israel's future. Writers note that the nation wants a reigning Messiah while passing over the rejected One.
Benjamin, the son of the mother's sorrow, became the son of the father's right hand. Jacob's prophecy of the last days foretold that his tribe would be the warrior-tribe of the nation. He is clearly the type of Christ exalted and in power on the earth. The nation clings to a reigning Messiah, but they do not see that only through the Sufferer can they find the Conqueror. When the hearts of the remnant in the last days turn to the suffering Christ they have rejected, then their restoration begins.
The change of name also carries a lesson about what our hearts are set on.
So Rachel dies. In the picture, Jacob gives up his strong desires. But Benjamin takes Rachel's place, a type of Christ as "the Man of God's right hand." The Lord Jesus is now exalted at the right hand of God. Only when He becomes the true Object of our hearts do we give up the useless ambition to improve ourselves morally and spiritually.
- Sorrow names him. A dying mother reads only the grief of the moment, and calls the child son of my sorrow.
- Faith renames him. The father, grieving too, looks past the grave. He calls him son of the right hand — the name the boy kept.
- Bethlehem holds both. The spot where Jacob's joy closed is the spot where the true Son of the right hand would be born.
- Christ is both names. Man of sorrows first, then the path of triumph and glory — stamped on Scripture this early.
- The order never changes. Israel reaches the Conqueror only through the Sufferer. So does every heart — finding its object no longer in itself but in the Man at God's right hand.
And Rachel died, and was buried on the way to Ephrath, which [is] Bethlehem.
Rachel dies giving birth to a son. Jacob buries her where she falls, beside a road, at a place the verse pauses to rename. That small note — "that is, Bethlehem" — turns a private grief into something far larger. It is the first appearance of a town Scripture would never let go of.
The verse gives the town both its old name and the name readers would know. One survey traces what grew from this grave:
A city of Judah, also called Bethlehem-Judah (Judges 17:7-9). It is first mentioned in connection with the death and burial of Rachel, Genesis 35:19. The history of Ruth is also connected with Bethlehem... David was anointed in the house of Jesse the Bethlehemite, so it seems this was the place of David's birth (1 Samuel 16:4; 17:12, 15). That is why Luke 2:11 calls it the "city of David." It was also the birthplace of Jesus: though it was "too little to be among the clans of Judah," it better suited His humiliation. Bethlehem means "house of bread." That is a very fitting name for the place the Saviour would come from as a man — He who was the living bread that came down from heaven. It seems the town was first called Ephrath (Genesis 35:16, 19; 48:7), and later Ephratah (Ruth 4:11; Psalm 132:6). Once it is called Bethlehem Ephratah, that is, the fruitful, because the ruler of Israel was to come from there (Micah 5:2). This led to the massacre of the infants by Herod (Matthew 2:16-18).
One writer puts the death and the birth side by side:
It was the spot where Rachel died. Where Rachel died, Jesus was born.
Commentators do not read Rachel's death as random. One links it to her theft and to God's way of dealing with those who belong to Him:
The moral government of God, as we go along, no more fails than His grace from beginning to end. Rachel's sin was great, and she kept her husband in the dark. Without knowing it, he had said that anyone guilty should not live. Her theft was not only a sin against her father, but in what she stole, a serious insult to God. We have no evidence of proper self-judgment, soon or ever. It is plain that Jacob did at last become aware of idols in his household. To take his beloved away was a chastening, not to her only but to him also.
Jacob names the newborn against the grain of the moment, and the place where he does it matters:
Jacob's love for Rachel was very great (Genesis 29:20). His grief must have been very great when he lost her. Yet in the faith of his soul he rose above that deep, deep sorrow. You can see it in the name he gave his son. The dying Rachel called the child Benoni (Son of my sorrow), but Jacob called him Benjamin (Son of the right hand). There, near Bethlehem, the true Son of the Right Hand would come into the world. In the name he gave his son, Jacob shows his faith in God. The door seemed to close on Jacob's deepest joys in that place. Yet that same place would hold his brightest hopes safe, in the Babe to be born at Bethlehem.
The roadside grave did not fade from Israel's memory. The pillar over it still speaks at the hour the King is born:
Rachel dies, but the pillar that records it stands in Israel's land and history until the kingdom. The weeping prophet wrote of her weeping for her children. Those words fit with truth and deep feeling when the King was born and kept safe from the murderous plan of the usurping Edomite — the enemy inside the land, favoured by Rome.
One writer reads the burial as a stage in Jacob's own walk. It comes after God's house has taken first place with him:
Rachel died and was buried "on the way to Ephrath" (v. 19). Her burial was a necessary step on Jacob's way to fruitfulness, which is what Ephrath speaks of. This place is also called Bethlehem, "the house of bread." Now Jacob sets up his fourth pillar on Rachel's grave. His third pillar was simple confidence in God alone. The fourth fittingly follows: the pillar that buries earthly ambition or desire. God's house and God's interests now take first place in his life. So he is content to bury all that he was or sought "in the flesh."
- Grave. Bethlehem enters the Bible as a grave. Rachel's roadside death is the town's first appearance in Scripture.
- Chastening. One writer reads the loss as God's discipline on a household that kept idols. It fell on Jacob as much as on Rachel.
- Naming. Rachel's dying word was sorrow; Jacob's answering word was the right hand — grief renamed as hope on the very spot.
- Fruitfulness. Ephrath means fruitful; Bethlehem means "house of bread." The burial is the step where all Jacob sought "in the flesh" goes into the ground.
- King. The grave marker stands in Israel's history until the kingdom. Rachel's weeping sounds again when the King is born in the town where she died.
And Jacob erected a pillar upon her grave that is the pillar of Rachel's grave to [this] day.
Rachel dies giving birth on the road south from Bethel, and Jacob buries her where she falls. The stone he sets over her is the last of several pillars in his life. Genesis adds that it was still standing long afterwards. So what did Jacob want remembered, and what was God teaching him through this loss?
Jacob raised stones at places he never wanted forgotten. Centuries later this grave was still a landmark. When Samuel sent Saul out on his first errand as king, the route ran past it.
Saul came from Jacob's line and from the tribe of Benjamin. Few places would interest him more than Bethel and Rachel's tomb. Jacob clearly wanted both kept in memory, since he set up a pillar at each. It is now said that Saul must have gone out of his way to reach Rachel's tomb. Suppose he did. It was the way Samuel directed him, and we must think it was on purpose, however far out of his way it took him. He was to learn his first lesson at the grave of a woman who, like him, was beautiful and impressive to look at, yet who gave way to a rebellious will just as he did.
In the same chapter Jacob had already set up a stone where God spoke with him. The next stone went up soon after, over a grave.
Jacob little thought, when he put up a pillar of thanksgiving at Bethel in the place where God talked with him, that he would so soon afterwards put up another pillar, and this one of sorrow, on Rachel's grave. But he bows to the hand of chastening: whom the Lord loves, He disciplines, and He chastises every son whom He receives.
William Kelly does not read Rachel's death as only an accident of childbirth. He traces it back to something she had hidden from her husband.
Rachel had sinned greatly and kept her husband in the dark, when he unknowingly said that the guilty one should not live. Her theft was not only a sin against her father; in what she stole it was a serious insult to God. We have no evidence of proper self-judgment soon after — if ever. It is plain that Jacob eventually became aware of idols in his household... To take his beloved away was a chastening, not only for her but for him too.
The grave and the newborn belong to the same moment, and the child left that moment with two names.
This has brought us back to Rachel, Israel's history in fact. She dies. She had had Joseph; now she has Benjamin. She calls him Ben-oni, the son of my sorrow; Jacob calls him Benjamin, the son of my right hand. This points to Christ at God's right hand, who was also the son of affliction.
Years later, on his own deathbed, Jacob told Joseph again where he had buried Rachel — and added the place's other name.
Rachel was the loved object of his life... At Rachel's death love marked her burial place with a pillar to keep her name in lasting remembrance. For Rachel he had suffered, toiled and lived, and with her all earthly joys closed for Jacob... But the faith of the dying patriarch looks beyond the end of all earthly joys. The man who was forever talking of going down to the grave now has his feet at the edge of it — and he looks beyond death and decay. When he speaks of Rachel's tomb "on the way to Ephrath," he is careful to add, "that is, Bethlehem." That very spot closed up the earthly joys and natural affections of Jacob's life. It is also the place from which would come the One who would bring everlasting blessing to Jacob's descendants.
One writer counts four pillars across Jacob's life and puts this grave stone last.
In this case Jacob set up a pillar on her grave, and "it is the pillar of Rachel's tomb, which is there to this day" — this pillar of giving up every earthly hope. These last two pillars belong together. If my confidence is in a living God (the third pillar), then giving up the sweetest earthly hopes (the fourth pillar) is not hard. However, we are not told to give them up without having something better.
- Pillar of praise. At Bethel Jacob set up a stone where God had spoken with him; the same chapter has him setting up a second.
- Pillar of sorrow. The grave stone marks a chastening Jacob bows to, linked to the idols hidden in his household.
- Name — turned. Jacob overruled Rachel's "son of my sorrow" with "son of the right hand" — a name pointing to Christ at God's right hand, who was also the son of affliction.
- Place — Bethlehem. Jacob buried his earthly joy at the very town from which everlasting blessing would come.
- Lesson — surrender. The last pillar means giving up every earthly hope. That is bearable only because a living God gives something better.
And Israel journeyed, and spread his tent on the other side of Migdal-Eder.
Jacob has just buried Rachel near Bethlehem. Now called Israel, he moves on and camps past a shepherd's watchtower. The verse reads like a travel note. Yet commentators find in it a place name the prophets would later make famous, and the setting for a painful family sin.
The tower's name carries a meaning that later Scripture picks up.
This occurs only in Genesis 35:21, and means "Tower of the flock." It was probably a tower the shepherds built to protect their flocks. It seems to have stood a little south of Bethlehem. Jacob halted there with his flocks. The expression "tower of the flock" occurs in Micah 4:8 (Edar in the margin) as the stronghold of the daughter of Zion.
One writer traces the rest of Jacob's route and notes what is missing from it.
Then, in the freedom and strength of all this, our patriarch resumes his journey. He goes from Bethel to Bethlehem, and from there, by the tower of Edar, to Mamre, in the south country, where his father Isaac was living. But in none of these places do we read of house or land again. It is the tent, the altar and the pillar. He keeps journeying on. He buries his aged father. At last, as one with his fathers, he lives in the land where they had lived before him. See Genesis 37:1.
Commentators differ on how to read this move. Where the last writer saw strength, another reads the departure from Bethel as the reason the sorrows keep arriving.
But now, although he has grasped the Lord's teaching, he is not brought into exact obedience to His word. The Lord had told him to live at Bethel; instead we find that, after a little, he journeyed away from there; and so fresh discipline awaits him. Now he must suffer the trial of his affections... He buried the one he loved in the place where Christ, the real balm for every bereaved heart, was to be born. Bethel is the house of God, the place where God had appeared to him and told him to live. If he leaves it, he is taught that there is nothing but a desolate path outside. The clouds gather round his path.
One writer sets Micah's promise for the flock beside Jacob himself, moving slowly past that same tower.
So brightly Micah (Micah 4) prophesied of the flock of Israel. In the next chapter he prophesies of the Shepherd, and only through His sufferings could such blessing and glory come. Meanwhile Jacob, the father of the twelve tribes, moved slowly, limping under a grief he felt deeply. He had known both being driven out and being afflicted.
Jacob's road ran from Bethlehem out to Edar. Another writer points out that prophecy runs the road the other way.
But at that time they will not go from Bethlehem to Edar. They will go from Edar to Bethlehem (Micah 4:8; Micah 5:2). And the first dominion will come to the Tower of the flock, the strength of the daughter of Zion, the daughter of Jerusalem.
The order of Jacob's stops, Bethel first and then Edar, carries a lesson.
He journeys further, still with his tent, but called Israel, toward Edar, meaning "a flock" (v. 21). Bethel shows the character of the church as the house of God. It stresses God's own presence living with His people. The flock, on the other hand, speaks of the church as a dependent company, constantly in need of care (Acts 20:28). First we learn the sweetness of God's presence in His house. Then, in practical daily life, we are ready to join the saints in encouraging them by shepherding and feeding them.
The verse is the hinge into the next line of the chapter, and Jacob's silence there is worth weighing.
In this area the sad sin of Reuben is recorded: he violated his father's concubine. We are told only this: "And Israel heard of it." He makes no angry reply. He has learned to submit himself to God, though Genesis 49:3-4 shows us he felt it deeply. In his firstborn Jacob now sees the unstable, untrustworthy character of the flesh, the same flesh that had surfaced in himself in a different way.
- Flock — the name. Migdal Eder means "tower of the flock." It was a shepherds' watchtower just south of Bethlehem. Micah 4:8 uses the same phrase.
- Flock — the tent. From here on Jacob owns no house and no land; his life is tent, altar and pillar, still moving on.
- Flock — the halting. He passes the tower slowly, weighed down by grief. Micah later points to the Shepherd whose sufferings make the blessing possible.
- Flock — the reversal. Jacob travelled from Bethlehem out to Edar. Prophecy runs the road the other way, and the first dominion comes to the tower of the flock.
- Flock — the care. Bethel teaches God's presence. Edar teaches a flock that needs care. Learn Bethel first, then shepherd the flock.
And it came to pass when Israel dwelt in that land, that Reuben went and lay with Bilhah, his father's concubine; and Israel heard of it. And the sons of Jacob were twelve.
Jacob has just buried Rachel and moved on when his eldest son defiles his father's bed. The record is short: the deed, then the father hearing of it, then the count of twelve sons. Why does Israel say nothing? And what does the sin cost?
The sin does not stand alone. One writer follows Jacob's moves after Bethel. Each move brings a fresh sorrow.
It was good for Jacob to be at Bethel: that seemed to be his right place. But "they journeyed from Bethel." At once we read of the heaviest sorrow of his life falling on him. His dearly loved Rachel died. He journeys again (v. 21), and then comes the terrible wickedness of Reuben. He journeys again, and then comes his father's death.
The trouble had older roots. One writer points back to Jacob's own domestic arrangements, and to the way Reuben had been used as a child.
We must also remember that Jacob has two wives and two concubines. That is a very different situation from either his father or his grandfather. Back in Haran we see Reuben his firstborn, still a child, drawn into bargaining, where love alone should enter. Little wonder that this same son later shows his lack of respect for these holy matters by lying with Bilhah, his father's concubine. That single act cost Reuben his birthright, but more, it cost Jacob the most bitter grief.
Scripture records no outburst and no rebuke — only that he heard. Commentators read the silence in two ways. One sees a man who has learned to bow, and who now watches his own nature appear in his son.
He makes no angry response, for he has learned to submit himself to God. Yet Genesis 49:3-4 shows that he felt it deeply. Now he is to see in his firstborn the unstable, untrustworthy character of the flesh, just as it surfaced in Jacob himself, though in a different way.
Another names the woman: Bilhah, the mother of Dan and Naphtali. He hears in the silence a wound too deep for speech.
Jacob's long stay in that land became a grim snare to his firstborn, and, sad to say, to his father's concubine, the mother of his brothers Dan and Naphtali. The sin was a grief too deep for a passing burst of feeling, if not too deep for tears. But his heart still felt it when the sons gathered around his dying bed. Then he was given to tell them what would happen to them at the end of days.
Reuben was the son in whom Jacob's strength should have shown itself. What appeared was the opposite.
Reuben was the firstborn. In him especially the might, the strength, the dignity and the power of Jacob should show. He was to express the very beginning of Jacob's strength and excellence. And what did he express? Nothing but instability and self-gratification. It was defiling, and an outrage on all natural decency.
Jacob's silence was not the end of the matter. Reuben lost the privileges of the firstborn, and one writer traces where each part went.
Reuben did forfeit his birthright, and it was entirely his own fault. He had gone up to his father's bed and committed adultery with Bilhah, his father's concubine. So he lost his privileges (Genesis 35:22; Genesis 49:3-4; 1 Chronicles 5:1-2). The position linked with the birthright went to Judah, the fourth son of Leah. Simeon and Levi were passed over because of their violence against the people of Shechem (Genesis 34). The wealth linked with it went to Joseph, the first son of Rachel, the loved one. The firstborn was entitled to a double portion of the inheritance.
Yet forfeiting is not the same as being cast off. Kelly states it plainly. The man who dishonoured his father "was forgiven, but lost his birthright and could have no pre-eminence either now or when God's kingdom comes for the earth."
Right after this failure the verse counts twelve sons. Reuben is still one of them. The placing is the point.
The listing of the family is moving at this point in the patriarchal story. No human being may boast. Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names, both early and late in the Old Testament, and finally in the last book of the New.
- Drift. Reuben's sin comes in a chain of blows. It starts when Jacob journeys on from Bethel: Rachel dies, then this, then his father dies.
- Household. Jacob had two wives and two concubines, unlike his father and grandfather. As a child Reuben was drawn into bargaining, where love alone should enter. He grew up with no respect for holy things.
- Silence. "Israel heard of it" — a father submitting to God, and a grief too deep for words, which only broke open at his deathbed.
- Forfeit. Reuben lost the firstborn's privilege. Rule went to Judah, the double portion to Joseph. He was forgiven, but he never regained first place.
- Grace. God still records all twelve names, Reuben among them. No human being may boast. Yet God takes pleasure in writing those names down, early and late in the Old Testament and again in the last book of the New.
The sons of Leah Reuben -- Jacob's firstborn -- and Simeon, and Levi, and Judah, and Issachar, and Zebulun.
Genesis 35 has just recorded Rachel's death and Reuben's sin against his father. At that low point the text stops to list Jacob's twelve sons by their mothers — so why name this family right after such shame, and why is Reuben still called the firstborn?
This list comes when the family has nothing to boast about. One commentator finds that moving:
The listing of the family is moving at this point in the patriarchal story. No human being will boast. Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord. Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names, both early and late in the Old Testament, and at last in the final book of the New Testament. He does it with instructive variations.
Another writer notes which of the father's two names heads the list:
We are then told the names of the sons of Jacob (vv. 22-26). He is not called Israel here. His sons are to be known as coming from the same sin-infected stock as their father. Despite this inherited sinful nature, God had ordained that the twelve tribes of the nation Israel would come from these twelve men. They were not chosen because they were any better than others. They were chosen only as a sample of all mankind, an object lesson to teach us two things: our actual sinful condition, and our need of a Saviour. No doubt each one of these brothers pictures a distinct feature of the ruin of mankind, and also of God's grace in providing salvation, as Genesis 49:2-27 indicates.
These sons are not listed in the order they were born. One writer reads their birth order as a record of human scheming:
This order speaks to us of man's plans, following his own thoughts, outside the thoughts of God. We see these plans when Laban gives his daughters to Jacob, and when Rachel and Leah give Jacob their maidservants.
Here the list groups them by mother, and the same writer points to who stands at the front of it:
The first three sons of Jacob had shown themselves to be murderers and incestuous. Their only guarantee for entering into Canaan lies in the promise given to Abraham and in the free election of grace. Here we find these three guilty sons at the head of the list.
Reuben still comes first here, one chapter after the sin that cost him the position. The title stays; the standing does not.
The man who dishonoured his father — and in a way not even found among the nations that do not know God — was forgiven. But he lost his birthright. He could have no pre-eminence, either now or when God's kingdom comes for the earth.
What he lost did not vanish; it passed to another son:
When Jacob was dying he said of Reuben, "You are my firstborn, my might, and the beginning of my strength, the excellency of dignity, and the excellency of power." That is what he was as the firstborn. In himself he was unstable as water, and he should not excel. He forfeited his birthright for defiling his father's bed, and it passed to Joseph, who had a double portion among the tribes through Ephraim and Manasseh.
Each of the names Leah gave her first four sons carries a meaning, and one writer lines them up in order:
The names of the sons of Leah are interesting. Reuben (behold a Son!); Simeon (hearing); Levi (joined); Judah (praise). It is the order of the gospel.
Judah was Leah's fourth son, and his naming is the highest point she reaches:
We never hear of her soul rising so high. The sorrow-stricken woman breaks out in praise of the LORD, and her fourth son carries that praise in the name she gave him that day. Yes, from Judah came, according to the flesh, the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever.
Levi joined in the killing at Shechem, and he is still counted here. See what God did with his punishment:
Levi was scattered in Israel as a punishment for that terrible sin, committed centuries before at Shechem. But now, for our encouragement, see the grace of God. The very punishment, the scattering in Israel, becomes an unspeakable blessing. God chooses this tribe to come near to Him. They are scattered through Israel, so that the knowledge of God and His Word spreads through them across the whole nation.
- Failure named. The list comes straight after Reuben's sin. Scripture calls the father Jacob here, not Israel: his sons share his stock.
- Grace records. No one in the family can boast here, yet God takes pleasure in writing down their names, early and late in Scripture.
- Grace reorders. Human scheming set the birth order. This list changes it, and the three guilty sons come first, held there only by promise and free election.
- Grace withholds. Reuben keeps the word "firstborn." He loses the birthright and all pre-eminence, and Joseph receives it.
- Grace ends in praise. Leah's names run from "behold a son" to "praise" — and from Judah, according to the flesh, came the Christ.
The sons of Rachel Joseph and Benjamin.
This verse is one line in a family register: after Rachel's death, the account pauses to list Jacob's twelve sons by their mothers. Rachel's share is two names, Joseph and Benjamin, and they carry far more weight in Scripture than this brief mention suggests.
Rachel was the wife Jacob loved first. Yet she was the last of the four mothers to bear children. One writer sees that order as deliberate:
It appears that Rachel was the first beloved wife, but in fact the last to enjoy the relationship and bear its fruits. Joseph was rejected by his brothers and exalted in another sphere over Gentiles. Benjamin was his mother's sorrow, but son of his father's right hand. Before this Leah is the mother of many sons, as there are before Israel comes into full and happy view.
Neither son alone gives the full picture of Christ. One writer shows what each adds:
God answered Rachel's prayer at last, and she gave birth to Joseph, whose name means "adding," because she was confident that God would add another son to her. Joseph is plainly a type of Christ. Yet Joseph gives us only one side of the truth concerning Christ, that is, that He was a Sufferer before being exalted. This is most important for us all to learn. Only then are we in any condition to appreciate the truth seen in Benjamin. He is a type of Christ as the Son of the Father's right hand, glorified and exalted to the throne, reigning in glory.
Where each brother was born adds to the contrast:
In due time the barren one bears Joseph, who pictures Christ rejected and exalted, but making Himself known to His brothers at last. She also bears Benjamin, the only one born in the land, son of his mother's sorrow but of his father's right hand. Benjamin brings millennial power before us, as Joseph does its blessing.
Two parents named Benjamin at the same moment, and the place matters:
The dying Rachel called the child Benoni (Son of my sorrow), but Jacob called him Benjamin (Son of the right hand). Near Bethlehem, the true Son of the Right Hand would come into the world. There Jacob shows his faith in God by the name he gave his son. Jacob's deepest joys seemed to close at that place. Yet that same place would secure his brightest hopes, in the Baby to be born at Bethlehem.
The closing line of this list says these sons were born in Padan-aram — the country Jacob had left, far outside the promised land. Yet chapter 35 has just described Benjamin's birth on the road to Bethlehem. One writer answers that the statement describes the family as a whole, not each name in it:
The main fact which characterized the family was their birth away from the land of promise, in the country where Jacob served for a wife. There was no need to make an exception of Benjamin in the statement; the aim was to give the accurate history of his birth. And this was no mistake: the writer had just given all the details of Benjamin's birth, and speaks in the passage itself of Jacob being in that land.
The list comes right after Reuben's sin against his father — not a flattering moment for the family. One writer finds that placement moving, not awkward:
The listing of the family is moving at this point in the story. No human being will boast. Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names. He does so early and late in the Old Testament, and at last in the final book of the New Testament, but with instructive variations. For the Bible is not only God's word. It is a deeply moral book, and those who make the mind their all discern little of that.
Another writer notes that the register calls the father Jacob here, not Israel:
We are then told the names of the sons of Jacob — not called Israel in this case. His sons are to be known simply as coming from the same sin-infected stock as their father. Despite this inherited sinful nature, God had ordained that the twelve tribes of the nation Israel were to come from these twelve men. They were not chosen because they were any better than others.
- Sorrow. Rachel named her last son from her dying grief — Benoni, son of my sorrow — and the grief came near Bethlehem.
- Right hand. Jacob refused that name. He called him Benjamin, son of the right hand, and showed his faith where his deepest joys seemed to close.
- Two sons, one Christ. Joseph shows the Sufferer afterwards exalted; Benjamin shows the reign in glory. Neither name alone tells the whole story.
- Inside the land. Joseph was born far from the promised land, Benjamin alone within it. Joseph pictures the blessing; Benjamin pictures the power.
- Recorded by grace. The twelve are listed right after a family disgrace. They are named as sons of "Jacob," not Israel — not chosen for merit, yet God takes pleasure in writing their names down.
And the sons of Bilhah, Rachel's maidservant Dan and Naphtali.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the sons of Zilpah, Leah's maidservant Gad and Asher. These are the sons of Jacob that were born to him in Padan-Aram.
This verse ends the list of Jacob's twelve sons with Gad and Asher, born to Leah's servant Zilpah, and places the whole family in Paddan-aram, where Jacob worked for Laban. Two questions follow: why do a servant's sons count equally with the rest, and why is Benjamin included when he was born in Canaan?
These two names came out of a contest between two sisters over children. Both reach for something Leah did not yet have.
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics Rachel had, giving her maid Zilpah to Jacob. By her he had a son, whom Leah named Gad, then another whom she named Asher. Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." So we find human support (a troop), and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we long for. But Leah is not satisfied with this.
The name a mother chose showed her state of soul. One commentator sees the names of Zilpah's sons as a step down from Leah's earlier faith, yet not beyond God's power to turn to good.
Leah was drawn into the trap, and through Zilpah she wanted to match that advantage. The names she gave Zilpah's sons, Gad and Asher, do not reflect the quarrelling that governed Rachel's spirit. Even so, they came nowhere near the level of faith she had shown in naming her own sons. But God has the right to make all things work together for good to those who love Him, the ones called according to purpose. Meanwhile every wrong has its effect among people, and its judgment before Him.
Jacob had children by four women. Two of them were servants, handed over by their mistresses. Yet Scripture never ranks their sons in two classes.
Jacob's two wives gave their handmaids to their husband, and so he had four wives. God counted the twelve sons of these four women equally as sons of Jacob, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. You might have thought God would not bless the children of these unions, but He did.
Abraham's household worked differently. And the number twelve itself carries meaning.
Unlike Ishmael in the story of Abraham, the sons of the servants do not take a separate or lower place here. They are blessed together with the other sons of Jacob. God said of Ishmael that the son of the servant should by no means be an heir with the son of the free woman... Jacob's twelve sons give a complete picture of God's earthly people. This is in line with God's government. They are blessed together, because in Scripture the number twelve is always connected with God's rule over His people.
This list comes right after Rachel's death and Reuben's sin against his father. It is a low point, not a proud one.
The listing of the family is moving at this point in the story of the patriarchs. Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names, both early and late in the Old Testament, and finally in the last book of the New Testament, though with instructive variations.
Eleven of the twelve sons were born during Jacob's years with Laban. Benjamin was the exception, and Genesis records his birth in Canaan a few verses earlier. So why does the verse sweep him in?
The exact genealogy was the important thing, and it is given accurately. The main fact that characterised the family was their birth away from the land of promise, in the country where Jacob served for a wife. There was no reason to make an exception of Benjamin in the statement... But once Benjamin was born, the time had come to give the whole family.
The same writer calls this a normal way of speaking:
It is a general fact, not exactly true of each individual in it, though it describes the subject being told.
- Names: Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy" — Leah reaching for support and contentment she did not yet have.
- Rivalry: Leah gave Zilpah to Jacob as a move in a contest with her sister. Yet God works all things together for good to those who love Him.
- Equality: God counts the servants' sons as fully Jacob's sons, and they become heads of tribes. Ishmael was no heir with the son of the free woman; these twelve are.
- Twelve: The full number marks God's rule over His earthly people. The whole family is the picture, not a favoured part of it.
- Paddan-aram: One phrase sums up the family by where it began — away from the promised land, while Jacob served for a wife. Even there, God delights to record every name.
And Jacob came to Isaac his father to Mamre -- to Kirjath-Arba, which is Hebron; where Abraham had sojourned, and Isaac.
After many years of wandering, Jacob's travels end at the place where his father Isaac still lives. The verse gives one town three names, and each name carries the memory of Abraham and Isaac before him.
Jacob is not breaking new ground here. He is returning to the spot he should never have left, and the road back has been long.
Still he journeys on, for the pilgrimage is not over, although he is now in the land, his portion... He soon reaches Mamre, which is in Hebron (the "richness of communion"), Abraham's old resting-place. What toil and how many experiences it took before he was back at last in the place only unbelief had ever driven him from! And we? How much do most of us resemble him in this!
One person is missing from the reunion. The verse names a father, and no mother.
But the government of God did not allow Jacob to see his mother again on earth (see Gen. 35:27), though he did see his father. She said she would send for him at the right time and bring him home again. So she was as fully deprived of Jacob's presence as if she had lost him in death — the very thing she feared.
Mamre, Kiriath-arba and Hebron are not three stops but one town under different names. The verse holds the Canaanite name and the later one side by side.
The Canaanite name, meaning 'city of Arba,' of the city afterwards called HEBRON.
"Sojourned" is the key word. Neither Abraham nor Isaac owned this country; they lived there as guests. The one piece of ground they did secure at Mamre was a grave.
Now Jacob, after varied ups and downs, comes to Isaac his father. It was at Mamre, or Hebron, once the city of the four. There was the cave of Machpelah, where Abraham and Sarah rested in hope of the resurrection. This was always the faith of God's elect. Like them, Isaac in due time fell asleep in faith. He never had the land, only its promise, and he was sure it would be fulfilled in Christ's day.
Why take such trouble over a grave? Because of what they expected after it.
They bought this piece of ground, and they took great care over their burial there. Both things tell us of their faith in their own happy resurrection, and in the inheritance of the land that goes with it. It tells us that hope was in their souls as surely as faith... Again and again they show what they are by nature. They go wrong. They shift and scheme and at times play false with God through unbelief. They bring discipline and rebuke on themselves, and at times they are humbled before other people. But they never seem to doubt the blessed facts: the God of glory had adopted them and endowed them.
Hebron is the name that stayed with the town, and its meaning fits what Jacob comes home to.
The name "Hebron" means "company," or "place of association," and a related sense of the word adds the idea of "charm." Despite much outward breakdown and failure, there is still an outstanding and unique joy in the company of those who truly love our Lord Jesus Christ.
Enjoying that company does not shut other people out. It sends you looking for them.
After many years of wandering Jacob came to Hebron (Genesis 35:27). From there he sent Joseph to ask after the welfare of his brothers (Genesis 37:14). As we enjoy what Hebron speaks of, we surely want many of God's people to come into an appreciation of this precious fellowship.
Everything Jacob has been through was getting him ready for this moment.
And so this up-and-down history ends with Mamre and with Hebron. There Isaac now gives up his place to Jacob as the vessel of testimony for God on the earth. Only now is he ready to fill the place.
- Driven out — only unbelief ever took Jacob from this place, and it took years of toil to bring him back.
- Cost — the delay was not free: Jacob saw his father again, but never his mother.
- Sojourned — Abraham and Isaac lived at Mamre as guests, owning nothing there but a burial cave.
- Hope — their care over that grave shows a faith that held the promise without ever holding the land.
- Handover — arriving at Hebron, Jacob steps into Isaac's place as God's witness on earth; only now is he ready for it.
And the days of Isaac were a hundred and eighty years.
Isaac's life closes in one sentence: 180 years, longer than Abraham lived, with no story attached. That short notice raises two questions. Why so little about the quietest of the three fathers in Genesis? And why record his death here, when the events around it came much later?
Isaac never left Canaan. One writer weighs his long life by that: not by great deeds, but by a quiet life as a stranger in the land God promised him.
Notice how truly Isaac lived to the end of his long life. He confessed himself a stranger and sojourner on the earth. Isaac never even had to ask for a foot of the land of promise. Abraham did, when he needed a burial place for Sarah and those who followed. He too knew what famine in the land was, but under its pressure he did not go down into Egypt as his fathers had. Isaac stays in the land, peaceful and little seen. He is not marked out by victorious energy like Abraham. He is not an exile and wanderer like Jacob either.
Genesis records his death at the end of chapter 35, but the event falls much later in the story. One commentator works it out from the ages Genesis gives:
Many years pass after this before Isaac died at the age of 180 years. Jacob and Esau were 120 years old at this time, since Isaac was 60 when they were born (Gen. 25:16). Ten years after Isaac's death Jacob stood before Pharaoh at age 130 (Gen. 47:9). But Joseph was sold into Egypt at age 17 and rose to rule over Egypt 13 years later at age 30 (Gen. 37:1; Gen. 41:46). Following this there were seven years of plenty in Egypt and some years of famine. So it seems that Isaac died at about the time Joseph rose to power in Egypt.
The words used at Isaac's death put him in a small company.
The phrase "gathered to his people" is used only of six persons: Abraham (25:8); Ishmael (Gen. 25:17); Isaac (35:29); Jacob (49:29-33); Aaron (Num. 20:24); and Moses (Deut. 32:50).
One writer takes that phrase to mean more than burial:
The Old Testament often says that a person "slept with his fathers" and "was buried with his fathers." Both expressions refer to the body only, and they follow each other in natural order. The sleeping body was buried. The expression "gathered to his people" may have a larger meaning. It may point to the one who has died joining his forefathers in the unseen world.
They buried Isaac in the same cave where Abraham and Sarah already lay. One writer sees all three fathers held together there by one hope.
In this life of faith and hope, we see the fathers of the book of Genesis as one. It is a happy thing to know this. They illustrate different mysteries, and they teach us different moral lessons. But in this life of faith and hope they are one. Each in his own day — Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (Gen. 25, Gen. 35, Gen. 49) — is alike gathered to his people. Each is "a handful of sacred dust" in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite. Each lies there in sure and certain hope of a resurrection to life and to the inheritance.
A funeral brought Esau and Jacob together again.
Esau and Jacob came to bury their aged father. He was old and full of days, beyond even the good old age of Abraham. Isaac and Ishmael had buried their own father in the same way. Death speaks with a powerful, subduing voice to the heart of man, even where there is no faith. Believers should not keep their close relatives away from the grave. They should welcome them there. At a graveside many a self-seeking and proud soul has bowed under the solemn issues of salvation on one side and judgment on the other.
Another writer draws out the practical arrangements behind the scene:
Esau and Jacob were both present for Isaac's funeral. Therefore Jacob must have sent word to Esau at the time, so that Esau could come. But at least it is good that the brothers met face to face again. The wisdom of God arranges matters of this kind.
- Stayed — Isaac lived all 180 years without once leaving Canaan, a stranger and sojourner in a land he held only by promise.
- Placed — Genesis records his death in chapter 35, but the numbers put it around the time Joseph rose to power in Egypt.
- Gathered — Scripture uses that phrase of only six men, and it may point beyond the body to the unseen world.
- Buried — he lies in the cave in the field of Ephron, beside Abraham and Sarah. All three fathers share one hope: resurrection and the inheritance.
- Joined — the grave brought Esau and Jacob together again, where death speaks with a subduing voice even to those without faith.
And Isaac expired and died, and was gathered to his peoples, old and full of days. And his sons Esau and Jacob buried him.
Genesis closes Isaac's story in one quiet sentence. He died old and full of days, and his two sons buried him. A stolen blessing had once driven those brothers apart. Commentators ask what "gathered to his people" means, and why Scripture tells so little about Isaac's last years. They also ask why his death appears here, when it happened much later.
Isaac lived longer than Abraham or Jacob. Yet Scripture says almost nothing about his old age.
Isaac's life took a long time to reach its close. His years went beyond Jacob's, and even beyond Abraham's. But the last forty years of it gave the Spirit of God no occasion to dwell on them.
That silence sets the tone for how much anyone should say about him. His life kept one shape: he stayed in the land, and he never owned it.
As the Holy Spirit says little, it is not for a believer to say much. But we may notice how truly he lived to the end of his long life, calling himself a stranger and a temporary resident on the earth. Isaac did not even need a foot of the land of promise, as Abraham needed a burying place for Sarah and those who followed. He too knew what famine in the land was. But even under that pressure he did not go down into Egypt, as his fathers had.
This phrase is not the Bible's usual way of reporting a death. Scripture keeps it for a handful of names.
The phrase "gathered to his people" is used only of six persons. Of Abraham (25:8); Ishmael (25:17); Isaac (35:29); Jacob (49:29-33); Aaron (Num. 20:24); and Moses (Deut. 32:50).
One writer sets this wording apart from the Old Testament's other ways of speaking about death.
The Old Testament often says that a person "slept with his fathers" and "was buried with his fathers." Both expressions refer to the body only, and they follow each other in natural order. The sleeping body was buried. The expression "gathered to his people" may carry a larger meaning. It may show that the one who died had joined his forefathers in the unseen world.
Esau had once planned to kill Jacob as soon as the mourning for their father ended. At the funeral that plan was gone.
Esau and Jacob came to bury their aged father, old and full of days beyond even Abraham's good old age. Isaac and Ishmael had done the same for their father before them. Death has a powerful and subduing voice for the heart of man, even where there is no faith... When Esau's rage turned to killing his brother Jacob, the days of mourning had not yet come. When they did come, God, who has power over all hearts, so worked that no such intention was left.
Esau lived far away in his own territory, which means someone had to arrange his coming.
Esau and Jacob were both present for Isaac's funeral. Therefore Jacob must have sent word to Esau at the time, so that Esau could come... But at least it is good that the brothers met face to face again. The wisdom of God arranges matters of this kind.
Isaac's grave was the cave Abraham had bought as a burial place for Sarah. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob all lie in that one plot, and that says something about what they expected.
Each in his day — Abraham, Isaac and Jacob — is gathered to his people in the same way. Each is "a handful of sacred dust" in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite. Each is laid up there in the sure and certain hope of a resurrection to life and to the inheritance.
The two brothers stood at one grave, but they were not looking the same way.
Esau still lived to himself and for the present enjoyment of the world and its things. Jacob saw the promises and welcomed them from a distance, like his father and his grandfather. Those who say such things show clearly that they do not yet possess, but are seeking a better homeland — a heavenly one.
The chapter ends with Isaac's burial, but the order of the telling is not the order of the calendar.
Isaac's death is named here, along with his great age, which went beyond Abraham's. But we must keep in mind that it did not happen until Joseph was sold into Egypt and had risen to the seat next to the throne, unseen and unknown to Israel. It is told here because the burial at Mamre brought the two sons together again in a sorrow that set aside their strife.
- Lived quietly. Isaac lived longer than Abraham or Jacob. Yet his last forty years get no comment. His life is marked by staying put, not by great deeds.
- Died a stranger. He never owned a foot of the land and never fled to Egypt in famine; he held the promise without the possession.
- Gathered, not buried. Scripture uses this phrase of only six people. It may point beyond the grave, to the one who died joining those who went before.
- Reconciled at the grave. Esau's old murderous anger was gone. God has power over hearts, and the two brothers stood together in one sorrow.
- Laid up in hope. The family cave was no ordinary tomb. Their dust lies there in the sure hope of resurrection and of the inheritance still to come.
And these are the generations of Esau, that is Edom.
Genesis 36 opens a fresh section of the book: the family record of Esau, listed under the second name he earned, Edom. Why does Scripture pause to record the line that was passed over? What should we see in a chapter of unfamiliar names?
Genesis is built out of "generations" headings. The order in which the two brothers appear carries the point.
The section called "The generations of Esau" runs from the first verse of Genesis 36 to the first verse of Genesis 37. As with Ishmael and Isaac, Scripture puts the rejected line first, but only briefly, and does not follow its dates. The chosen line comes second, and then enough dates are given for us to follow the passing of the years. In this way we get a picture of the principle stated so clearly about God's ways: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
The second name in the verse came from a meal. It stuck to Esau, to his descendants, and to their land.
The name given to Esau because he craved the red pottage of Jacob; Edom means red (Genesis 25:30; 36:1, 8, 19). But the name is more usually given to his tribe and to the territory they held. It stretched from the land of Moab south to the Gulf of Akaba, about a hundred miles long. It had been called Mount Seir.
Commentators also hear something else in the name Edom. It sounds almost like Adam.
His second name, Edom, earned by his actions, is almost identical with Adam. Esau was the "profane person" who sold his birthright for a single meal. He was rejected when he wanted to inherit the blessing. In this way he stands as a representative of the "old man."
The list of names may look like dead weight. It has a use later on.
The chapter also shows quite clearly that Esau, Edom and Mount Seir are the same, so we can recognise these names when we meet them in later Scripture.
There is a second reason for the long record: God keeps the books.
Esau (Edom) prospers and grows rich. His sons become "dukes" (vv. 15-43) before Jacob's family reach such honour, apart from Joseph in Egypt. Remember that Joseph did not exalt himself: Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family shows the usual history of the flesh, which always exalts itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress one thing on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it only vanity.
Esau's line reaches kings before Israel has any. One writer treats this as a pattern, not an accident.
The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find power developing rapidly in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important mark of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more lasting.
One thing never shows up anywhere in the record: God.
We are told again that Esau is Edom, that he is the father of the Edomites. His sons are chiefs, and before Israel had a king they had kings. The pride and pomp of chiefs and kings passes in review, along with the alliances with God's enemies. The whole record shows no feature of God at all. We cannot help recognising the line of the flesh, and seeing a picture of the headship of Adam. It is good to look this picture full in the face, for we never make a true start until we have. Good self is what tests us, not bad self.
Edom fills a large place in the prophets. This chapter is not prophecy yet.
There is no doubt that Edom is the special object of judgment in the last days. But the passages you quote speak of a later time, when Israel will be in their land and the Lord has come down to judgment… Genesis 36 is simply the original historical condition of Esau.
- Name. Esau is called Edom, "red," after the meal he took in exchange for his birthright — a name earned by his own choices.
- Order. Scripture records the passed-over line first, and briefly. The chosen line follows: the first is set aside so the second may stand.
- Rise. Edom has chiefs and kings before Israel has any. What is natural comes first and grows fast; what is of God grows slowly and lasts.
- Record. The long list is God's full accounting of the flesh. It also ties Esau, Edom and Mount Seir together for later Scripture.
- End. This chapter gives only Esau's historical beginnings. The prophets take up Edom's judgment much later.
Esau took his wives of the daughters of Canaan Adah the daughter of Elon the Hittite, and Oholibamah the daughter of Anah, daughter of Zibeon the Hivite,
Genesis 36 opens the record of Esau's family, and the very first thing God notes about him is whom he married. Both women named here were Canaanites, the people Esau's family was to stay clear of. The chapter that follows traces what came of that choice.
One writer shows the pattern Genesis follows when it records two branches of a family:
The section called "The generations of Esau" runs from Genesis 36:1 to Genesis 37:1. As with Ishmael and Isaac, Scripture puts the rejected line first and treats it briefly. It does not follow the dates in that line. The chosen line comes second, with enough dates for us to follow the passing years. This foreshadows a principle of God's ways that is stated so clearly: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Heb. 10:9).
One writer sets these marriages beside what Esau had already thrown away:
Esau formed the closest possible connection, marriage, with two Hittite women. He brushed aside the thought of taking a wife from their own relatives. He tied himself to the people of the land, whose wickedness was mounting until judgment fell on them three or four hundred years later. He had already despised the birthright. Now he despised a restriction backed by God's own authority. The call of God meant nothing to him.
Another writer looks at where Esau settled as well as whom he married:
After the announcement of Esau's descendants, we notice that he married wives who were Canaanites, Hittites and Hivites — bitter enemies of God's people. We see too that he lived in Mount Seir. That land was cursed later, and the curse would remain on it even in millennial days, when the wilderness will blossom like the rose. It illustrates the flesh, which cannot be improved even under the very best influence.
The wives listed here do not carry the names given earlier in Genesis. Commentators differ on why. One treats it as simple double naming:
In the earlier account, Genesis 26:34 and 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Genesis 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or another name may have been given them at their marriage. It seems likely that Bashemath, daughter of Elon, is the same as Adah, daughter of Elon. Bashemath, daughter of Ishmael, is likely the same as Mahalath, daughter of Ishmael. Judith, daughter of Beeri, may be the same as Oholibamah, daughter of Anah, if Beeri is her father's name and Anah her mother's.
Another writer looks at the wife Esau took from Ishmael's family and argues her new name carries a verdict:
Historians say the writer of Genesis made a mistake by mixing up the names! We suggest the revised name had deliberate meaning. In God's eyes there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and the daughter of Canaan. So in the record she was given a name of Canaan. In his second choice Esau came near the right line, but stopped short of God's mind for the descendants of Abraham, the friend of God.
The chapter traces the chiefs of Edom back to these women. Adah, named first in the verse, is described this way:
One of the wives of Esau. She was the daughter of Elon the Hittite, and so "a daughter of Canaan." She bore Esau his firstborn son Eliphaz, who became the father of seven of the chiefs of Edom.
One writer sets Edom's quick greatness beside God's slower way of building:
The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find power developing fast in Esau's family. They were all great people, to be sure — this chief and that chief, right to the end of the chapter. Kings, we are told, even reigned before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us to mark how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more lasting.
Israel's law later turned this principle into a national command:
From the start, God commanded the nation of Israel to keep His way carefully in the matter of marriage. They were on no account to give their daughters to the sons of the Canaanites. They were not to take the Canaanites' daughters for their sons (Deut. 7:3). If they did, it would cost them being owned by the Lord any longer (Joshua 23). In keeping with this, Solomon's days of turning from God are marked by disobedience in this very thing (1 Kings 11). Afterwards, no real recovery to God could be accepted without a return to this principle in their marriages (Ezra 10; Neh. 10).
- Listed first, set aside first. Esau's line is recorded before Jacob's and in brief — "He does away with the first in order to establish the second."
- The choice. Marrying into Canaan was contempt, not carelessness. Esau had already despised the birthright. Now he despised a restriction backed by God's own authority.
- The name. Where the record renames a wife, one writer sees simple double naming. Another sees God's verdict: Esau came near the right line, but stopped short of God's mind.
- The yield. Those marriages bore chiefs and kings fast. What is not of God shoots up quickly; growth according to God is slower and lasts.
- The warning. Israel's later law made this a national test. There was no way back to God without a return to it.
and Basmath Ishmael's daughter, the sister of Nebaioth.
Genesis 36:3 names a third wife of Esau. Her name here is not the name the earlier account gave her, and that small difference — with the reason Esau chose her — opens up what this list is doing in the middle of Jacob's story.
The earlier account of this marriage gives the bride a different name. One reference work sees nothing strange in that:
One of the wives of Esau, the daughter of Ishmael and the mother of Reuel, Genesis 36:3-4. In the earlier narrative, Genesis 26:34 and Genesis 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Genesis 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or someone may have given them another name at their marriage. It seems likely that Basemath, daughter of Ishmael, is the same person as Mahalath, daughter of Ishmael.
Others read the switch as deliberate, carrying a verdict on the marriage itself:
Later, in the genealogy of Esau, the Spirit of God says that Esau took Basemath, Ishmael's daughter, as a wife. Historians say the writer of Genesis made a mistake in mixing the names. We suggest the revised name had deliberate significance. In God's eyes there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and the daughter of Canaan. So the record gives her a name of Canaan. She was a sorrow by name, and no less a sorrow in nature and practice, to his parents and to God.
Commentators differ on whether this is simply a second name or a verdict on the marriage.
The verse names her brother as well as her father. Nebaioth led an Ishmaelite line that Scripture follows into the future:
Eldest son of Ishmael and one of the chiefs of the Ishmaelites. Isaiah 60:7 names the rams of Nebaioth, with the flocks of Kedar his brother, as serving the prosperity of Israel in the future day of blessing.
Esau already had two Canaanite wives. When he saw that these marriages displeased his father, he added a wife from Ishmael's family. The motive was appearance, not faith:
Scripture tells us in Genesis 28:6-9 how Esau copied his brother as far as appearance went, because his Canaanite wives displeased his father. But God was not in his thoughts, and his imitation fell far short. Besides his Hittite wives he took a daughter of Ishmael as wife — the child of the slave woman, cast out from Abraham's house. There was no faith, only a natural and useless effort after better ways.
The numbers alone gave him away:
He seems to have thought his parents would be happier if he added another wife, as long as she had some link to Abraham! So he took the daughter of Ishmael, the son of the slave woman. This is of course the foolish reasoning of the flesh. He knew his father had only one wife. How could a son with three wives please him?
The verse records the company Esau chose, and a man's company tells you what he is:
It is a sign of the times that so little is thought of the character of a man's associations. In truth, nothing gives us our character so much. To say of Enoch, or of Noah, that "he walked with God" describes the man fully in the fewest words. If a man freely joins himself to God's enemies, can he truly want a walk like that?
The list of Esau's descendants breaks into the story of Jacob and Joseph. Its place there is no accident:
At first reading, this account of Esau's descendants might seem like a stray fragment. Someone could just as well have placed it a few chapters earlier, or a few later, than where it now stands. But you cannot move a chapter or a word without spoiling the perfection of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
Set here, the chapter shows how fast the natural line rises:
The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first the natural, then the spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — chief after chief, right to the end of the chapter. Kings reigned among them before Israel had any king at all. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
- Named — Basemath is Ishmael's daughter and Nebaioth's sister. The earlier account calls her Mahalath: a second name, or a renaming that shows the marriage for what it was.
- Chosen — Esau picked her to look obedient after his first two marriages grieved his parents. He copied Jacob's outward path without Jacob's faith.
- Exposed — a third wife could never please a father with one. The fix was the reasoning of the flesh, and a man's company tells you what he is.
- Multiplied — from these wives came chiefs and kings, a line rising fast into power, while growth on God's timing went slower.
- Placed — the chapter sits just where it belongs: the natural comes first and grows fast, the spiritual comes after and lasts.
And Adah bore to Esau Eliphaz; and Basmath bore Reuel.
Genesis 36 turns from Jacob to the line of Esau, and verse 4 names his first two sons: Eliphaz by Adah, Reuel by Basemath. Two questions come up here: why do these wives have other names earlier in Genesis, and why does Scripture record a family it has already set aside?
Genesis names Esau's wives earlier too, and the names do not match. Commentators explain the gap in more than one way:
One of the wives of Esau, the daughter of Ishmael and the mother of Reuel. Gen. 36:3-4. In the earlier account, Gen. 26:34; Gen. 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Gen. 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or they may have received another name at their marriage. It seems likely that Bashemath, daughter of Elon, is the same as ADAH, daughter of Elon. And Bashemath, daughter of Ishmael, is likely the same as MAHALATH, daughter of Ishmael.
Who the mothers were matters. Their peoples were enemies of God's people, and the land Esau settled in lay under a curse:
After the record of Esau's generations, we notice that he married wives who were Canaanites, Hittites and Hivites. They were bitter enemies of God's people. We see, too, that he lived in Mount Seir. That land was cursed later, and the curse would remain even in the millennial days to come, when the wilderness will blossom like the rose. It is an illustration of the flesh, which, under the very best influence, cannot be improved.
Eliphaz stands at the head of a line that rose fast. Jacob's family went the other way:
Still, it teaches us something. What is natural comes into power first, and what is spiritual comes after. The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and within it, and are even severely oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir. The descendants of Edom soon claim the rank of chiefs: "These are the chiefs of the sons of Esau. The sons of Eliphaz the firstborn of Esau."
One son of Eliphaz became a lasting enemy of Israel:
Edom became the treacherous enemy of the people of Israel. Read Obadiah, verses 8-16. From the concubine of Eliphaz was born Amalek, one of the terrible enemies of Israel, with whom there was to be continual warfare (Exodus 17:8-14).
The same line reached much further. Haman came from it:
Agag was the title of the kings of Amalek, probably a general title, as Pharaoh was for the king of Egypt. (1 Sam. 15:9, 32; Num. 24:7) So Haman came from this royal line. Amalek, the people of Haman, descended from Esau through Eliphaz: he was first a chief, and then became the people of Edom. (Gen. 36:12, 16)
Esau did well in earthly things. One writer ties that to Isaac's blessing, and to a wider pattern:
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He held his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied and became chiefs and men of note. They became not only "chiefs" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always come first, ahead of the children of God.
- Names. Esau's wives appear under other names in Genesis 26 and 28. They may have had two names each, or new names at marriage. Commentators call the match likely, not certain.
- Mothers. Esau's wives came from the peoples of the land, and Mount Seir lay under a curse. His line began in ties with God's enemies.
- Firstborn. Eliphaz, Adah's son, heads a line that rises fast into chiefs. Jacob's family stays a wandering household of shepherds.
- Reach. Out of Eliphaz came Amalek, Israel's continual enemy from Exodus 17 on. Haman came from the same line.
- Result. Esau prospered, just as Isaac had said he would. Worldly greatness still comes first; God's people wait.
And Oholibamah bore Jeush and Jaalam and Korah. These are the sons of Esau that were born to him in the land of Canaan.
Genesis 36 pauses the story of Jacob to list his brother's family. Verse 5 closes the first group of names with a detail that matters: Oholibamah bore these three sons in the land of Canaan, and Esau soon left that land behind. Why does Scripture give a whole chapter to a line it has already set aside?
Is this chapter simply dropped in where it happens to fall? One writer answers no:
At first reading, this account of Esau's generation might seem like a disconnected fragment, which could just as well have been inserted a few chapters earlier, or a few later, as where it now stands. But neither chapter nor word can be displaced without spoiling the perfectness of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
Verse 5 records where Esau's sons began. What follows explains why they could not stay:
Verse 6 tells us that he took his wives, family, and all his possessions, leaving the land of Canaan, going "from the face of his brother Jacob." The man "after the flesh" cannot dwell together with the one who is chosen by God.
Esau's line rose into dukes and kings. One writer sees God's purpose holding steady underneath:
The next chapter follows with a long list of Esau's generations, ripening early into dukes and kings. The world must have its day. Yet through it all a significant sign appears that God's purpose is being fulfilled — the purpose "which is not of works, but of Him that calls."
Verse 5 names the mother as well as the sons. One reference work traces her family line:
One of the wives of Esau: she was the daughter of Anah, daughter of Zibeon the Hivite. She bore to Esau "duke Jeush, duke Jalam, duke Korah."
Esau's choice of wives was no small detail:
Following the announcement of Esau's generations, we notice who he married. His wives were Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites — enemies of God's people who would never make peace. We see, too, that he lived in Mount Seir. That land was cursed later on, and the curse would stay on it even in the coming thousand-year reign, when the wilderness will blossom like the rose. It is a picture of the flesh, which no influence, however good, can improve.
Esau's family climbed fast. One writer reads that speed as a lesson:
We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, right to the end of the chapter. Kings even reigned among them, we are told, before Israel had a king at all. I have no doubt this stands as an important sign of how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more lasting.
Another writer sets the two lines side by side:
The world that has turned away from God establishes itself in power, while the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth.
So why record the list at all? One writer answers:
The long list of names is therefore meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, finding it only vanity.
- Placed — Esau's line sits where divine wisdom put it. Move one word of God's book and you spoil it.
- Born — Jeush, Jalam and Korah were born in Canaan. Their father then took them out of it, for the man after the flesh cannot live beside the man God has chosen.
- Bound — their mother Oholibamah was a Hivite. Esau's marriages tied him to God's enemies, and his home was Mount Seir, a cursed land.
- Boosted — first the natural, then the spiritual. Esau's sons rise fast into dukes and kings, while the heirs of promise stay poor pilgrims.
- Booked — God writes down every name, taking full account of the flesh and all it achieves, and finds it only vanity.
And Esau took his wives, and his sons, and his daughters, and all the souls of his house, and his cattle, and all his beasts, and all his possessions, that he had acquired in the land of Canaan, and went into a country away from his brother Jacob.
Genesis 36 pauses the story of Jacob to record the line of Esau. Verse 6 is the moment the brothers part for good, and it raises the question of why they could not share one land.
This move was the end of a long story between the brothers. The nation that came from Esau later turned against Jacob's descendants.
In verse 6 we read that Esau went into the country away from the face of his brother Jacob. In the end it came to a clear and complete separation between Esau and Jacob. Jacob lived in the land where his father was a stranger. And Edom became the treacherous enemy of the people of Israel.
The verse names a departure but no reason for it. One writer traces the reason to the two men themselves, and reads the chapter's long list of names as God's full accounting of everything that line produced.
The man "after the flesh" cannot live together with the one God has chosen… Esau's family shows the usual history of the flesh, which always exalts itself. So the long list of names is there to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, finding it only vanity.
Esau moved for his own reasons. No one forced him out. Yet in going he left Canaan to the brother God had chosen. One writer sees God's purpose at work in that.
Then follows a long list of Esau's generations, ripening too early into chiefs and kings. The world must have its day. Yet in the middle of it all we see a significant sign that God is fulfilling His purpose — the purpose that is "not because of works but because of him who calls." For we read that Esau "went into a land away from his brother Jacob."
Esau leaves with everything he owns. Jacob stays in a land where he is a stranger, holding only a promise, and his children inherit that same unsettled life.
But Jacob was "a quiet man," a man of the tent. He took after his fathers. Like Abraham and Isaac, he was a stranger here, living on the surface of the earth for a time, with his eye on the promise. Esau's children were chiefs, settled in their own territories, enjoying their honours and wealth. Jacob's children had to wander from one nation to another. They had to suffer the hardships and wrongs of cruel Egypt, or to cross the trackless, wasted desert as pilgrims.
Esau's line rises fast after this move — chiefs, then kings, long before Israel had either. The speed itself is the lesson.
We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, of course — chief this and chief that, right to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important sign of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more lasting.
Esau's new home was not just his own taking. Long after this move, God's earlier word about Seir still stood, and it limited what Israel could claim.
Edom had harassed Israel greatly and shown an arrogant pride. Still the Lord would not give Edom's possession to Israel. He remembered His word: "I have given Mount Seir to Esau as a possession" (Gen. 32:3; 36:6-8; Josh. 24:4). They were, therefore, not to seek what the Lord had not given them. And this is obedience and a lesson of faith. What happy contentment there would be among God's people if this rule were followed.
- Parting. The move was no temporary arrangement. It was a complete and lasting split, and Edom later became Israel's treacherous enemy.
- Cause. The man after the flesh and the man God chose could not share one land.
- Purpose. Esau left Canaan by his own choice. That choice served a purpose resting on God's call, not on works.
- Contrast. Esau's sons gained territories and quick honours. Jacob's family held a land they owned nothing in, and wandered as pilgrims.
- Result. What shoots up fast is not what lasts. Growth according to God is slower and more lasting — and even Esau's land stayed a gift God protected.
For their property was too great for them to dwell together, and the land where they were sojourners could not bear them, because of their cattle.
Two brothers who once could not live at peace now cannot share a country. The reason is not hatred but wealth. Their herds and goods had outgrown the land. The parting looks like a practical deal about pasture. Commentators see more in it: a lasting split of portions. One brother settles into a possession. The other stays a stranger in Canaan.
Why did Esau own so much? One writer points back to his father.
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him. He occupied his own territory and became fully independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied, became chiefs, and were notorious.
Commentators read the crowded pasture as a picture of something deeper. The two men stood on different ground before God. That difference had to show itself.
Verse 6 tells us that he took his wives, family, and all his possessions. He left the land of Canaan, going "from the face of his brother Jacob." The man "after the flesh" cannot live together with the man God has chosen. Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and develops greatly in a material way.
The distance between the herds later hardened into something worse.
In verse 6 we read that Esau went into the country from the face of his brother Jacob. It came at last to a pronounced and complete separation between Esau and Jacob. Jacob dwelt in the land in which his father was a stranger. And Edom became the treacherous foe to the people of Israel.
Esau moved away by his own choice. A commentator sees God's purpose at work in it.
The world must have its day. Yet in the middle of it all comes a clear sign that God's purpose is being fulfilled — the purpose "which is not of works, but of Him who calls."
The verse calls Canaan the land where they were staying as foreigners. Esau traded that temporary standing for land he could own. Jacob stayed on as a stranger.
Esau leaves Canaan for Seir, and his descendants soon, as their names seem to show, live by their sword in this barren region. Two texts here have special meaning for us. First, Esau took all he had gained in the land of Canaan and went into the country away from his brother Jacob. Then the section closes with one short verse that speaks volumes to the ear that hears. It contrasts Jacob's portion with his brother's: "Jacob lived in the land of his father's sojournings, in the land of Canaan."
Centuries later Israel marched toward Canaan. God treated the land Esau settled as His own gift. He told Israel to leave it alone.
They might have wanted to take the plains of Moab or Mount Seir and the lands of Ammon. The Lord forbade them to do so. Disobedience would have been disastrous. Edom had harassed Israel badly and shown an arrogant pride. Even so, Jehovah would not give Edom's land to Israel. He remembered His word: "I have given Mount Seir to Esau as a possession." So they were not to seek what the Lord had not given them. And this is obedience and a lesson of faith. What happy contentment there would be among God's people, if this rule were followed.
Esau's family tree rises into chiefs and kings. Jacob's family is still wandering with flocks. That order is deliberate.
The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau... I have no doubt this is given to us as an important sign of how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
- Riches divide. The prosperity that fulfilled Isaac's blessing on Esau made shared living impossible. The land could not carry both households.
- Portions separate. Esau took land he could hold in Seir. Jacob stayed in the land where his father had lived as a foreigner.
- Purpose stands. Esau's own choice to leave cleared Canaan for the line that rests on God who calls, not on works.
- Boundaries hold. Mount Seir was God's own gift to Esau. God later told Israel not to covet it. Be content with what God assigns.
- Patience wins. What is natural rises first and fast, into chiefs and kings. What grows according to God grows slower and lasts.
Thus Esau dwelt in mount Seir; Esau is Edom.
Genesis 36:8 closes the account of Esau's move out of Canaan. It ends with one settled fact: he made his home in the hill country of Seir. The short note that Esau is Edom turns a family story into a national one. It also raises a question: what does a man gain by taking his portion outside the land of promise?
The second name in the verse has its own history. It goes back to a bowl of red stew, and then spreads to a people and a land.
Esau was given this name because he craved Jacob's red stew, since Edom means red (Gen. 25:30; Gen. 36:1, 8, 19). But the name is more often used for his tribe and the territory they held... It is a very mountainous district with high peaks and deep valleys, but also with very fertile plains. It had been called Mount Seir. Gen. 36:8.
That link pays off well beyond Genesis.
The chapter also shows clearly that Esau, Edom and Mount Seir are one and the same, when we find these names mentioned later in Scripture. Otherwise the many names here would mean little to us.
This move ended the shared life of the two brothers. The long list of names that follows has a purpose too.
Verse 6 tells us that he took his wives, family, and all his possessions, left the land of Canaan, and went away from his brother Jacob. The man "after the flesh" cannot live together with the one whom God has chosen... The long list of names is meant to press on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it empty.
Where a man settles shows what he values. Esau's choice turned away from what God had promised.
So Esau leaves the promise to him [Jacob], and goes to the place God hates — to his own portion.
The contrast is sharpened by the sentence that closes the whole section, once Esau's line has been listed.
Esau leaves Canaan for Seir, and his descendants soon live by their sword in this barren region — their names appear to show it... The section closes with one short verse that says a great deal to the ear that hears. It sets Jacob's portion against his brother's: "Jacob lived in the land of his father's sojournings, in the land of Canaan."
Older translations read "the land in which his father was a stranger" — Jacob lived there as a stranger.
Esau's line rises fast, while the family of promise stays on the move.
This chapter has its own important place: it sketches the earthly lot of Esau. Indirectly it also teaches us something. It shows what is natural coming into power first, and what is spiritual coming later. The family of promise stay shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and inside it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise quickly into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir.
That success matched what Isaac had spoken over Esau.
Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He held his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied and became chiefs, well known to all. They not only became "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always taken precedence over the children of God.
The territory Esau took had a history before him and a verdict after him.
The Horites lived there first, and after them the descendants of Esau, and it took the name EDOM... The word of the Lord announced to the prophet that Mount Seir would be desolate for ever. Ezek. 35:2-15.
God's quarrel with Edom goes back to the character of the man.
From the very beginning the Lord had a word, a dispute, with Edom, as He still has through His prophet: "Esau I have hated. I have laid waste his hill country and left his heritage to jackals of the desert." Esau had no regard for sacred things. He sold his interest in the Lord for a bowl of stew... He set his heart on the present life, and knew very well how to turn what it offered into his own enjoyment.
- Choice. Esau took his household out of Canaan, away from Jacob. The two brothers' lines never share a home again.
- Portion. Esau chose Seir instead of the promise. The section closes by setting his portion beside Jacob's, who still lived as a stranger in Canaan.
- Name. "Esau is Edom" ties the man, the nation and Mount Seir together. Later passages about Edom open up once you know that.
- Prosperity. Isaac's word to Esau came true fast: chiefs, then kings, before Israel had any king. Earthly greatness often runs ahead of the people of God.
- End. The mountains Esau settled are the ones the prophet later marks for lasting desolation. A portion taken outside the promise did not hold.
And these are the generations of Esau, the father of Edom, in mount Seir.
This short line opens a fresh section of Genesis. It gives one man two identities — Esau is also Edom — and places him in Seir, outside the land of promise. Why does Scripture pause the chosen family's story to list his descendants?
Esau carries two names in this verse, and the second one came from an appetite. A reference work traces it back to the day he traded his birthright for a meal:
A name given to Esau because he craved Jacob's red stew, since Edom means red (Genesis 25:30; 36:1, 8, 19). But the name is more often given to his tribe and the land they held. This stretched from the land of Moab southward to the Gulf of Akaba, about 100 miles in length. The region is very mountainous, with high peaks and deep valleys, but it also has rich plains. It had been called Mount Seir (Genesis 36:8). Bozrah and Sela were its chief cities.
This chapter interrupts Jacob's story, and the order is not random. One writer sees the same pattern earlier in Genesis:
The section titled "The generations of Esau" runs from the first verse of Genesis 36 to the first verse of Genesis 37. As with Ishmael and Isaac, the rejected line comes first here, and only briefly, and its record does not follow the order of time. The chosen line comes second, and with it enough dates to let us follow the passing of the years. This points forward to a clear principle of God's ways: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
Read on past this verse and the names pile up quickly — chiefs, then kings. That speed is itself the lesson:
But there is another genealogy (Genesis 36), and its place here is striking. The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once how mature things already were here. It is always so — first the natural, afterwards the spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in Esau's family. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Kings, we are told, even reigned there before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this stands as an important mark of how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more lasting.
The verse gives Esau's address: Seir, outside the land of promise. One writer weighs both what he left and where he went:
Esau now leaves the promise to Jacob, and goes to the place God hates — to his own portion.
Yet the move did not leave him poor. His father's words over him came true in full measure:
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He held his own territory and became fully independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied and became chiefs, and they were well known. They became not only "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power, the children of this world have always come out ahead of the children of God.
A long roll of unfamiliar names can feel like wasted pages. One commentator says why the two lines live apart, and what the long record is for:
The man "after the flesh" cannot live alongside the one God has chosen... Esau's family shows the usual history of the flesh, always exalting itself. The long list of names is therefore meant to impress one fact on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it only vanity.
The verse also works as a dictionary entry for the rest of the Bible. It locks three names together:
The chapter also shows plainly that Esau, Edom and Mount Seir stand for the same line and the same land. That helps us when we meet these names later in Scripture. Otherwise the many names here may mean little to us.
- Name: "Edom" means red, and it stuck to Esau from the day he craved a bowl of red stew — an appetite became a nation's name.
- Place: Seir was his own portion. He left the promise to Jacob and went to the place God hates.
- Speed: What is not of God shoots up fast. Edom had kings before Israel did. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
- Order: The rejected line comes first, and briefly. The chosen line follows. God does away with the first to establish the second.
- Purpose: The long name-list is God's full account of the flesh, which He finds to be vanity — and a key to these three names later in Scripture.
These are the names of Esau's sons Eliphaz, the son of Adah the wife of Esau; Reuel, the son of Basmath the wife of Esau.
This verse opens the record of Esau's family, naming two sons and the mothers who bore them. Why does Scripture keep such careful record of a family outside the line of promise?
Commentators read the placement of this genealogy as deliberate. It cuts into the story of Jacob just where Edom rises to sudden power.
But there is another genealogy (Gen. 36), and strikingly introduced in this place. The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once how fully grown this family already was. It is always so — first the natural, then the spiritual. Even then, power grew fast in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — chief this and chief that, to the end of the chapter. Kings even reigned among them before Israel had any king. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important mark of how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The verse ties each son to his mother. Esau married into the families of Canaan, and Adah was one of those wives.
One of the wives of Esau, daughter of Elon the Hittite, and so "a daughter of Canaan." She bore Esau his firstborn son Eliphaz. Eliphaz became the father of seven of the chiefs of Edom.
Compare this chapter with Genesis 26 and 28, and Esau's wives carry different names. Commentators offer a likely answer, not a certain one.
One of the wives of Esau, the daughter of Ishmael and the mother of Reuel. Gen. 36:3-4. In the earlier narrative, Gen. 26:34; Gen. 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Gen. 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or they may have received another name at their marriage. Bashemath, daughter of Elon, is probably the same as ADAH, daughter of Elon. Bashemath, daughter of Ishmael, is probably the same as MAHALATH, daughter of Ishmael.
The names in this verse are not dead ends. Eliphaz's line produced one of Israel's worst enemies.
In verse 6 we read that Esau went into the country away from the face of his brother Jacob. In the end the separation between Esau and Jacob was open and complete. Jacob lived in the land in which his father was a stranger. And Edom became the treacherous foe of the people of Israel. Read Obadiah, verses 8-16. The concubine of Eliphaz bore Amalek, one of the terrible enemies of Israel. Israel would be at war with him again and again (Exodus 17:8-14).
One of Job's friends carries the same name. Idumea, mentioned below, is another name for Edom.
The first friend is Eliphaz the Temanite. Teman is in Idumea. He may have been the son of Esau (Genesis 36:10-11). His name means "my God is fine gold." Teman was noted for its wisdom. "Is wisdom no more in Teman?" (Jeremiah 49:7).
Esau prospered. Yet the call that shaped his family line was never his.
He was a prosperous man; kings and chiefs sprang from him. He came from the man whom God called out of his country and his family, to be separate from all peoples and to receive the promises. Esau returns to the people that Abraham left. Neither the call nor the promise was for him. In his sons he rises to supreme power.
So why record it at all? Commentators give two answers: the list shows what the flesh does, and how little it lasts.
Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "chiefs" (vv. 15-43) before Jacob's family reach such honour. Joseph in Egypt is the exception. We must remember that Joseph did not exalt himself. Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family shows the usual story of the flesh, which always exalts itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this chief and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived and their greatness soon gone. The record dismisses them in a few words. "These are the generations of Esau."
- Named — The verse ties each son to his mother: Eliphaz to Adah, Reuel to Basemath. Adah's son Eliphaz fathered seven chiefs of Edom.
- Renamed — Esau's wives carry other names in Genesis 26 and 28. Commentators think the same women had two names, though they do not claim certainty.
- Fast — Edom had chiefs and kings before Israel had any. What is not of God shoots up fast; growth God's way is slower and lasts.
- Hostile — Eliphaz's line produced Amalek, Israel's constant enemy. Esau's break with Jacob hardened into Edom's treachery.
- Vanity — God took full account of the flesh and found it empty. All that is left is a list of names: this chief and that king once lived, and no more.
-- And the sons of Eliphaz were Teman, Omar, Zepho, and Gatam, and Kenaz.
Genesis 36:11 lists five bare names: the sons of Eliphaz, one of Esau's sons. Why does Scripture spend space on the family God passed over?
Genesis 36 opens a marked-off section, and the order inside it is deliberate.
The section called "The generations of Esau" runs from the first verse of Genesis 36 to the first verse of Genesis 37. As with Ishmael and Isaac, so here again. Scripture puts the rejected line first, but keeps it short, and does not follow its dates. The chosen line comes second, and then enough dates are given to let us follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows the principle of God's ways, stated so clearly: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Heb. 10:9).
These names do not stay plain names for long. Esau's line rose fast, and the chapter makes a point of the speed.
Here is another genealogy (Gen. 36), and its place in the story is telling. The Edomite line breaks into the course of God's dealings. We see at once how mature this family already was. It is always so — first the natural, afterwards the spiritual. Even then power grows fast in Esau's family. They were all great people, of course — chief this and chief that, right to the end of the chapter. Kings, we are told, even reigned there before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt Scripture gives us this to mark how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more permanent.
The first name, Teman, did not stay one man's name. It became a people, a place, and a name the prophets spoke against.
Son of Eliphaz, a son of Esau, and a chief of Edom; also his descendants and the district they lived in. It is linked four times with Edom and twice with Dedan, which places it in the south. Scripture speaks of its wisdom, and pronounces God's judgements on it. One of Job's friends was Eliphaz the Temanite.
Teman's name for wisdom deserves a second look. One writer asks what such wisdom rests on, once God is left out.
Teman, spoken of here, was noted for the wisdom of its people. The name means "the right hand," which in Scripture means the south… Teman's wisdom is also a dependent wisdom, and it must be. But it is Edomite, not Israelite. So it is a dependence that belongs to the flesh. The Edomite has no faith in God to keep him steady, and no fixed points to reason from. He is born into a world where he must take much from others. He inherits the thoughts of men, and those thoughts can fail. They are often mistaken, sinful, and able to deceive. Yet men pride themselves on this godless wisdom. It often takes the name of science. But it chooses to ignore God, so it must stay ignorant of where all things come from and how they began.
Kenaz closes this short list. Yet not everyone of Edomite blood stayed outside Israel. Commentators think Caleb was one who came in, though they put it as likely, not proven.
Some have supposed, from facts that must be looked at in another place, that he was not a member of the tribe by right of birth. This seems to be confirmed by what is said here: he was given a portion among the children of Judah, according to the word of the Lord. Caleb seems to have been of Edomite stock. He was one of those believers from among the Gentiles. We find many prominent examples of them in the history of God's people. Of Caleb our Lord might have said what He said about the Roman centurion: "with no one in Israel have I found such faith."
A roll of forgotten names is not filler. It is a reckoning.
Esau (Edom) prospers and grows rich in material things. His sons become "chiefs" before Jacob's family reach such honour… Esau's family shows the usual story of the flesh: it always lifts itself up. So the long list of names is there to impress one fact on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
- Record. Scripture writes the rejected line first, and writes it briefly. God removes the first to establish the second.
- Rise. Esau's sons carry the title of chief before Jacob's family reach such honour. What is not of God shoots up fast; growth from God is slower, and it lasts.
- Reach. Teman became a region famous for wisdom. But it was Edomite wisdom — borrowed from men, with no fixed point in God to reason from.
- Reckoning. The long list exists so we see that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it achieves, and finds it only vanity.
- Grace. Commentators think Caleb came of Edomite stock — an outsider given a portion in Judah, with faith the Lord Himself would have praised. Even a rejected line has a door in it.
And Timna was concubine to Eliphaz Esau's son, and she bore Amalek to Eliphaz. These are the sons of Adah Esau's wife.
Genesis 36 lists the family of Esau. In the middle of that list, one short note names a woman who was not a wife, and the son she bore. That son, Amalek, gives his name to the nation that fights Israel first and longest. Why does a passing line in a genealogy carry such weight?
The names here are all connected to Esau's firstborn line. Reference works set out the bare facts about the woman named in the verse:
Concubine of Eliphaz, son of Esau, and mother of Amalek. Genesis 36:12.
The closing clause of the verse traces everything back to Adah, and her own background is worth noting, along with what came of her son:
One of the wives of Esau, daughter of Elon the Hittite and so "a daughter of Canaan": she bore to Esau his firstborn son Eliphaz, who became the father of seven of the chiefs of Edom. Genesis 36:2, 4, 15, 16.
Readers often skip these lists. One writer explains why this one is here:
This chapter deals with the generations of Esau. Verse 6 tells us that Esau took his wives, family, and all his possessions and left the land of Canaan, going "from the face of his brother Jacob." The man "after the flesh" cannot live together with the one God has chosen. Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and grows in material things. His sons become chiefs (vv. 15-43) before Jacob's family reach such honour, except for Joseph in Egypt. So the long list of names is meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, finding it only vanity.
Timna appears only here. What came from her is another matter:
Edom became the treacherous enemy of the people of Israel. From the concubine of Eliphaz came Amalek, one of the terrible enemies of Israel, and there was to be continual war with him (Exodus 17:8-14).
The meaning of "Amalek" is debated, and one writer works through the options while linking the name to the character of the family it came from:
Amalek is the grandson of profane Esau, whose name Edom, earned by his actions, is almost identical with Adam. Amalek's own name has no settled meaning. It has been thought to be made up of am and laq, and so to mean "a people that licks up," or "exhausts." That would fit well enough, but Scripture points rather to a derivation from amal and laq, which would give us the thought of "labour that exhausts." … Amal is connected with the will or lust of the flesh, and Amalek may well be the offspring of the old man, Edom.
Amalekites appear in Scripture long before the birth recorded here, and commentators do not claim to settle it:
These names raise a difficulty. We read of Amalekites in Genesis 14:7, some hundred years before the birth of Amalek, the son of Eliphaz and grandson of Esau, Genesis 36:12. Does everything we read of the tribe after this refer to the descendants of Esau? Or did the older people merge with them? No one knows.
Follow the name forward and it reaches from the wilderness to the book of Esther:
He was the grandson of Esau, who preferred a bowl of stew to the birthright. (See Genesis 36:12) He was the first who opposed Israel, after their baptism "in the cloud and in the sea." These facts fix his character very clearly; and besides these, we know that Saul was set aside from the kingdom of Israel because he failed to destroy Amalek. (1 Samuel 15) Further, we find that Haman is the last of the Amalekites mentioned anywhere in Scripture. He was hanged on a gallows because of his wicked attempt against the descendants of Israel. (See Esther) No Amalekite could enter the assembly of the Lord. And finally, in the chapter now before us, the Lord declares perpetual war with Amalek.
- Root. Timna was Eliphaz's concubine. Eliphaz was Esau's firstborn son by Adah, a Hittite woman of Canaan.
- Line. Esau's family rises fast into chiefs and wealth. God records it in full only to show it is vanity.
- Fruit. Out of that one unnamed union came Amalek, described as one of the terrible enemies of Israel.
- Character. Commentators read Amalek as a picture of the flesh. His name suggests "licking up" or "labour that exhausts" — the offspring of Edom, the old man's line.
- Reach. The trail runs from Exodus 17 to Saul's lost kingdom to Haman's gallows. The Lord declares perpetual war on Amalek. Commentators differ on whether the Amalekites of Genesis 14 come from this Amalek at all.
-- And these are the sons of Reuel Nahath and Zerah, Shammah and Mizzah. These are the sons of Basmath Esau's wife.
Genesis 36 pauses the story of Jacob to record Esau's family line. Verse 13 names the four sons of Reuel, whose mother was Bashemath. Why does Scripture keep a careful register of a family outside the line of promise?
Many readers skip a chapter like this. One writer says its place in the book is chosen, not accidental.
At first reading, this account of Esau's generation might seem like a disconnected fragment. It could just as well sit a few chapters earlier or a few later as where it now stands. But you cannot move a chapter or a word without spoiling the perfection of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
The placement makes a contrast. Esau's family is gaining rank in this world while Jacob's family is still waiting on a promise.
The world that has turned away from God establishes itself in power, while the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth. This last is a distinct point of revelation.
The same four sons appear later in the chapter as chiefs, or "dukes" in older translations. How fast they rose is itself the lesson.
The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important sign of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more lasting.
The same pattern shapes what a believer sees today.
As a postscript to the life of Jacob, we have the contrast of Esau. He rises to prominence and earthly greatness, while his brother is still only a pilgrim, living in tents. All this is deeply significant. We are living now in man's day. So we need not be surprised when the world gives the flesh and its works a place and importance far above the lowly pilgrim testimony of the people of God.
The verse gives four names and no account of the men behind them. One writer looks at what those Hebrew names hold.
And what a fruitful line came from the wicked Esau! The Hebrew names tell the story of their expansion, their wickedness and power. What was not of God developed rapidly, as it does now in the earth.
Each of these four is traced forward in Scripture. Zerah, for one, is identified in the record as more than a grandson:
Son of Reuel, a son of Esau, and one of the chiefs of Edom. Gen. 36:13, 17; 1 Chr. 1:37.
The verse closes by naming their grandmother — Bashemath, Esau's wife. Genesis calls this daughter of Ishmael by two different names. One writer reads the change as God's comment on the marriage.
Later the Spirit of God, giving the genealogy of Esau (Gen. 36:3), said that he took Bashemath, Ishmael's daughter, for a wife. Historians say the writer of Genesis made a mistake in mixing the names! We suggest the revised name had deliberate significance. In the eyes of God there was no difference between Ishmael's daughter and a daughter of Canaan. So in the record she carries a name from Canaan... In his second choice Esau came near to the right line. But he stopped short of the mind of God for the descendants of Abraham, the friend of God. How often Christians form close ties with people who outwardly carry the Christian name. Yet they prove to be no different from the world.
The chapter runs on past chiefs to kings. How those kings held power tells the rest.
Violence seems to have marked them, for not one king was followed by his son... In Esau's descendants we see what has marked the world: rival factions fighting for power, where of course the strongest arm wins. God lets the world show itself and its power — or rather its lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. For there were kings in Edom before any were found in Israel. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains for ever.
- Placed on purpose. Move one word of this chapter and you spoil God's word. It stands here so we read Esau's rise against Jacob's tent.
- Fast growth. What is not of God shoots up quickly; growth according to God is slower but lasts longer.
- Natural first. Esau's sons hold rank while the heirs of promise are still wandering — man's day comes before God's.
- Half-right. Esau came near the right line and stopped short of it. Ties with people who only look godly still end in a line like this.
- Names only. The chiefs are named, then gone. Edom's kings are finished; God's King remains for ever.
-- And these are the sons of Oholibamah, the daughter of Anah, daughter of Zibeon, Esau's wife and she bore to Esau Jeush and Jaalam and Korah.
Genesis 36:14 names Esau's three sons by Oholibamah and traces her line back through Anah to Zibeon. Why does God record a list like this at all, and why here?
The verse names her father Anah and her grandfather Zibeon. One reference work says which people Zibeon belonged to:
A Hivite, father of Anah and grandfather of Oholibamah, a wife of Esau. Genesis 36:2, 14.
One reference work offers a likely answer to an old puzzle about her name:
In the earlier narrative, Genesis 26:34 and Genesis 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Genesis 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or they may have received another name at their marriage. Judith, daughter of Beeri, may be the same as Oholibamah, daughter of Anah, if Beeri is her father's name and Anah her mother's.
One writer reads Esau's choice of wives, and the land he settled in, as a picture of the flesh — human nature as it is in itself:
After the record of Esau's generations we notice that he married wives who were Canaanites, Hittites and Hivites — sworn enemies of God's people. We see, too, that he lived in Mount Seir, a land later cursed. The curse would remain on it even in the days of Christ's reign, when the wilderness will blossom like the rose. It is an illustration of the flesh, which, under the very best influence, is incapable of improvement.
A list of Genesis name meanings gives her name as:
Oholibamah — Tent of the high place.
These sons belong to a line that does not stay obscure. One writer explains what that rise shows:
It has its own important place: it sketches Esau's lot on earth. Indirectly, though, it teaches us something. What is natural comes into power first, and what is spiritual comes afterwards. The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and within it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir. The descendants of Edom soon claim the distinction of chiefs.
Older translations call these chiefs "dukes". The same writer explains what the rank amounted to:
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In modern language these would probably answer to the sheikhs of their tribes. Later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel.
So why does Scripture keep so long a record? One writer gives the reason:
Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and develops greatly in a material way, his sons becoming "dukes" before Jacob's family attain such honour (except for Joseph in Egypt). We must remember that Joseph did not exalt himself; Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family, though, illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
The place of this chapter in Genesis is no accident:
At first reading, this account of Esau's generation might seem like a disconnected fragment. It could sit a few chapters earlier, or a few later, just as well as where it now stands. But neither chapter nor word can be moved without spoiling the perfection of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
Another writer states the principle in a single line:
The apostate world establishes itself in power, while the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims upon the earth.
- Marriage. Oholibamah's line runs back to Zibeon the Hivite. Esau took his wives from peoples called enemies of God's people.
- Offspring. Jeush, Jalam, and Korah belong to that line, and Edom's sons soon claim the rank of chiefs.
- Rise. What is natural comes into power first. Edom has chiefs while the family of promise are still wandering shepherds.
- Record. The long list shows that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activity, and finds it only vanity.
- Placement. The chapter is not a stray fragment. It stands just where divine wisdom set it.
These are the chiefs of the sons of Esau. The sons of Eliphaz, the firstborn of Esau chief Teman, chief Omar, chief Zepho, chief Kenaz,
Genesis 36:15 starts the list of chiefs born to Eliphaz, Esau's firstborn son — a family that had already left Canaan and the line of promise. Why does Scripture pause Jacob's story to count the honours of Esau, the brother outside the promise?
While Jacob's household is still small, Esau's grandsons already hold titles — "dukes," in the older wording the writers below use. One commentator reads that speed as a rule, not an accident.
But there is another genealogy (Gen. 36), and strikingly introduced in this place. The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned there before Israel had any. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important mark of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
These titles trace back to a promise. Isaac had blessed Esau with earthly plenty, and this chapter is that word coming true.
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so that his father's blessing was fulfilled to him (27:39-40). He occupied his own territory, became quite independent of Jacob, and his descendants multiplied and became chiefs and well known. They became not only "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always taken precedence over the children of God.
The first name here does not stay just a person. Teman becomes a people and a region.
Son of Eliphaz, a son of Esau, and a duke of Edom; also his descendants and the district they lived in. It is four times connected with Edom, and twice with Dedan: this places it in the south. Scripture speaks of its wisdom, and God pronounces judgements on it. One of Job's friends was Eliphaz the Temanite.
One writer sets the last judgement in that same land, and names the reason.
The last in this series of judgments will fall in Edom, the land of Esau (Teman being Eliphaz's eldest son, Genesis 36:15), because of Edom's undying hatred of Israel.
It is easy to skip a page of unfamiliar names. One commentator finds two things in it: why Esau's line stands apart, and why the list runs so long.
The man "after the flesh" cannot live together with the one whom God has chosen. Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "dukes" (vv. 15-43) before Jacob's family reach such honour — except for Joseph in Egypt. We must remember that Joseph did not exalt himself; Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family shows the usual history of the flesh, which always exalts itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, finding it only vanity.
Esau's family settled down while Jacob's family kept wandering. The prophets give Edom one steady character.
All the prophets who have spoken of Edom give that people the same character. They find in Edom the same causes of God's controversy with them. Profaneness, pride, hatred of Israel — these are Edom's common marks. The world was Esau's portion, while Israel was still a stranger and a pilgrim. His children had their dukedoms. They were kings too, and they had their cities. They were settled, like eagles nesting in the clefts of the rocks. All this time Jacob's children were still homeless wanderers in lands that were not theirs, or in barren deserts.
Edom's future is bleak, and one writer turns the lesson back on the reader.
While a remnant of the other nations will come in for blessing in a future day, Edom will not. Let us take the moral of it to heart, for we may easily fall into the same spirit as the Edomite. Jeremiah saw the failures and sins of God's people, but he wept over them. Daniel and other godly men confessed those sins as their own. But the spirit of the Edomite is bitter hatred against people who, whatever their failures, are still the people of God.
- Fast — What is not of God shoots up quickly. Esau's grandsons hold titles while Jacob's family is still small.
- Fair — Their rise is no injustice. Isaac's blessing on Esau promised earthly fatness, and God kept it.
- Flesh — The long roll of titles is God taking full account of the flesh, and finding it vanity.
- Fixed — Growth that comes from God is slower, but it lasts. The wanderers, not the chiefs, hold the promise.
- Forewarned — Edom's marks were profaneness, pride, and hatred of God's people — and Edom alone misses the blessing of a future day. That hatred is a spirit anyone can fall into, so take the warning to heart.
chief Korah, chief Gatam, chief Amalek. These are the chiefs of Eliphaz in the land of Edom; these are the sons of Adah.
Genesis 36:16 closes the list of chiefs descended from Eliphaz, Esau's firstborn. The last name on that list is Amalek, whose people would fight Israel for generations. A page of foreign titles raises a fair question: why does Scripture pause to record the rank of Esau's family at all?
This chapter belongs to Esau, not Jacob. One writer draws out the contrast: the line without the promise climbs first.
Jacob has nothing to do with the chapter. It has its own important place of sketching the earthly lot of Esau. Yet it still teaches us something, though not directly. What is natural comes into power first, and what is spiritual comes afterwards. The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and within it, and even suffer harsh oppression. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir.
Another writer treats this as a rule of everyday experience.
The children of Esau had "dukes" in plenty, giving us an early example of what we find so often in Scripture and in our own experience — that the man who loves the world and ignores God goes ahead in the world beyond the man who fears God.
Older translations call these men "dukes"; the ESV calls them chiefs. Neither word means European nobility.
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In modern language these would probably answer to the sheikhs of their tribes. Later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel.
Of all the names in this verse, Amalek is the one Scripture never lets drop. One writer sets him beside Pharaoh: two enemies, each blocking a different thing.
Pharaoh represents the hindrance to Israel's rescue out of Egypt. Amalek represents the hindrance to their walk with God through the wilderness. Amalek stands before us as the type of the flesh. He was the grandson of Esau, who preferred a bowl of stew to the birthright. He was the first to oppose Israel after their baptism "in the cloud and in the sea." These facts fix his character clearly. Besides these, we know that Saul lost the kingdom of Israel because he failed to destroy Amalek. Further, Haman is the last of the Amalekites we find any notice of in Scripture. He was hanged on a gallows because of his wicked attempt against the descendants of Israel.
The chief listed in this verse is not a dead end. Centuries later in Persia, Israel's enemy Haman traced his line back to Amalek.
Agag was the title of the kings of Amalek, probably a general title, like the title of Pharaoh, king of Egypt. So Haman came from this royal race. Amalek, Haman's people, descended from Esau through Eliphaz: he was first a chief, and then became the people of Edom.
Scripture records their rank, then drops them.
Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this chief and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness faded, and they are quickly dismissed. "These are the generations of Esau."
If the names seem tedious, that may be part of their purpose.
Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "dukes" before Jacob's family reach such honour — except for Joseph in Egypt. We must remember that Joseph did not exalt himself. Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family, though, shows the common history of the flesh, which always exalts itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress one fact on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and has found it only vanity.
- Rise — What is natural gains power first. Esau's line holds rank while the family of promise are still wandering herdsmen.
- Rank — The "dukes" of this verse were tribal sheikhs. Edom's greatness later grew as far as kings.
- Amalek — The last name here became the type of the flesh. He struck Israel first in the wilderness, and Saul lost the kingdom for failing to destroy him.
- Haman — The same line appears again in Persia, and ends on a gallows. The flesh outlives its first generation.
- Vanity — God records every title the flesh wins, then lets the list end. He has taken full account of it and found it only vanity.
And these are the sons of Reuel Esau's son chief Nahath, chief Zerah, chief Shammah, chief Mizzah these are the chiefs of Reuel in the land of Edom; these are the sons of Basmath Esau's wife.
Genesis 36:17 is one line in a long list of Esau's descendants. It names four sons of Reuel who held the rank of chief, then names their grandmother Basemath, one of Esau's wives. Why does God's book stop to record the titles of a family that had walked away from the promise?
Older English versions call these men "dukes." Commentators describe the office in plain terms: tribal leadership, not empire. One writer traces the stages of Edom's rise:
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In today's language these would probably be the sheiks of their tribes. Then later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel.
The rank did not last. The same writer ties the change from chiefs to kings to Israel's years in the desert:
I suspect that Israel's time in the wilderness was about the point of change from Edom having simply dukes to having kings. In Exodus 15 we hear of the dukes of Edom being dismayed. But in Numbers 21 we read of the king of Edom, who would not let the children of Israel pass through his land.
Four chiefs from one grandson is rapid growth, and that speed is the point. While Esau's line was collecting titles, the family carrying God's promise had nothing to show:
It teaches us something indirectly: what is natural comes into power first, and what is spiritual comes afterwards. The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and inside it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir.
The placement of the whole chapter follows a pattern already used earlier in Genesis, and the difference in treatment is deliberate:
As with Ishmael and Isaac, so here again Scripture mentions the rejected line first, and only briefly. It does not follow the order of dates for that line. The chosen line comes second, and Scripture then gives us enough dates to follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows the fact stated so clearly as a principle of God's ways: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
The verse ends by tracing these chiefs back to Basemath. Compare this chapter with the earlier accounts of Esau's marriages and the names do not match. Commentators explain it like this:
One of the wives of Esau, the daughter of Ishmael and the mother of Reuel (Genesis 36:3-4). In the earlier narrative, Genesis 26:34 and Genesis 28:9, the names of Esau's wives differ from those given in Genesis 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or another name may have been given them at marriage.
God does not ignore this family. He counts it — and the counting is itself the verdict:
Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this chief and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon gone, and they are briefly dismissed. "These are the generations of Esau." But when the Holy Spirit speaks of the "generations of Jacob," He has only one Man in view, and ten chapters follow, giving the history that pictures Him.
The chiefs of Reuel stand at the head of a nation, and its later record never changes:
Trace the history of Edom through the Bible and you always find the same features. You see them in the refusal to let Israel pass through the desert, in Doeg, and in the Herods. In every case it is the profane and coarse worldly element, together with opposition to God. Mount Seir is the stronghold of the flesh, the fortress of godless man. But Edom would be pulled down from his high nest (see Obadiah), and in the end driven from his perch and brought low. And so all proud thoughts and grand strongholds of the flesh will be laid in the dust!
- Titles first. Reuel's four sons hold the rank of tribal chief while the family of promise still wanders with its flocks. What is natural comes into power first; what is spiritual comes after.
- Order teaches. Scripture puts the rejected line first and keeps it brief, then sets it aside. God does away with the first to establish the second.
- Counted, not honoured. God records every chief by name, and the record is its own verdict: power soon over, greatness soon gone.
- Brought low. The same worldly, godless spirit runs through Edom's whole later story, and Mount Seir, the stronghold of the flesh, is pulled down in the end.
- One name instead of many. Esau's line needs a long roll of chiefs. Jacob's generations narrow to one Man, and ten chapters tell His story. The line of faith ends in a person, not a list.
-- And these are the sons of Oholibamah Esau's wife chief Jeush, chief Jaalam, chief Korah; these are the chiefs of Oholibamah the daughter of Anah, Esau's wife.
Genesis 36:18 ends the list of Esau's chiefs. Three sons of his wife Oholibamah — Jeush, Jalam, and Korah — each hold a title of rank. Why does Scripture stop to record the honours of a family outside the line of promise? And what were those honours worth? (Older translations read "dukes" where the ESV reads "chiefs".)
The verse names Oholibamah twice, and each time ties her to her father. A Bible dictionary traces her line back one more step:
One of the wives of Esau: she was the daughter of Anah, daughter of Zibeon the Hivite. She bore to Esau "duke Jeush, duke Jaalam, duke Korah."
Esau's wives came from those nations. One writer links his marriages to the land he chose to live in:
After the record of Esau's descendants we notice that he married wives who were Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites — bitter enemies of God's people. We see, too, that he lived in Mount Seir, a land later cursed. The curse would stay on it even in the days of the coming thousand-year kingdom, when the desert will blossom like the rose. It is a picture of the flesh, which cannot be improved even under the very best influence.
What did the title mean? One writer compares these chiefs to tribal leaders:
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In modern language these would probably be the sheiks of their tribes. Then later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel... They had dukes and even kings flourishing among them when the children of Israel as a whole were obscure and unsettled.
Esau's line threw up chiefs early. One writer draws a settled principle from that speed:
We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. I have no doubt that this is given to us as an important mark of how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The contrast is with what the chosen family looked like at the very same moment:
The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and inside it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise quickly into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir.
If Edom's greatness was passing, why keep the names at all? One writer sets Esau's rise beside Joseph's:
Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "dukes" before Jacob's family reach such honour (except for Joseph in Egypt). Remember that Joseph did not exalt himself; Pharaoh exalted him. But Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, finding it only vanity.
The chapter sits between the end of Jacob's story and the start of Joseph's. Writers treat that position as part of the message:
At first reading, this account of Esau's descendants might look like a disconnected fragment. It could just as well have stood a few chapters earlier, or a few later, as where it now stands. But you cannot move a chapter or a word without spoiling the perfection of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
The same writer finds a larger pattern in where these names fall:
Jacob, at several points in his career, illustrates the history of the nation. Then comes Joseph, who in his turn foreshadowed the Messiah. So, just as the kings and dukes of Edom appear between this picture in Jacob and the appearance of Joseph, the Gentile appears in rule and power before the Lord Jesus is presented to the Jew... Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon faded, and they are quickly dismissed.
- First — God's order never changes: what is natural comes first, what is spiritual comes after. Edom's chiefs arrive first.
- Fast — what is not of God "shoots up" quickly; growth according to God is slower but lasts longer.
- Foreign — Oholibamah came from a Hivite family. Esau married into the enemies of God's people.
- Filed — God keeps the long roll of titles on record. He takes full account of the flesh, and finds it only vanity.
- Fleeting — the chiefs' power was short-lived and their greatness soon faded. Placed before Joseph's story, the chapter shows the world taking its honours first, and God's purpose coming after.
These are the sons of Esau, and these their chiefs he is Edom.
This verse closes the list of Esau's sons and their chiefs with one line: this family, with all its titles, is Edom. Why does the Bible pause to record a rejected family at all? And why does that family gain rank and power so fast while the chosen line still wanders with its flocks?
The verse gives Esau a second name, and that name carries a story. He earned it in a moment of appetite:
This name was given to Esau because he craved Jacob's red stew. Edom means red. But the name is more usually given to his tribe and the land they held. It had been called Mount Seir.
So the closing words are not a neutral label. One writer reads the name as the man's character coming into the open:
In despising his birthright, Esau shows himself to be profane. Jacob values it, but seeks it in crooked ways. Esau now appears openly as Edom — that is, Adam, only a little changed on the surface, and not in heart.
Older translations call these men "dukes." One writer puts the title in terms we know:
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In modern language these would probably answer to the sheikhs of their tribes. Then later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel.
Set the chiefs of Edom beside the family God had chosen, and the contrast is sharp:
Indirectly it is instructive, since it shows what is natural coming into power first, and what is spiritual coming afterwards. The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and within it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir. The descendants of Edom soon claim the distinction of chiefs.
Another writer draws the everyday lesson from the same timing:
The children of Esau had "dukes" in plenty. This gives us an early example of something we find often in Scripture and in our own experience. The man who loves the world and ignores God gets ahead in the world, further than the man who fears God.
A long list of unfamiliar names can look like filler. Commentators read it as deliberate:
Esau prospers and grows great in material ways. His sons become "dukes" before Jacob's family reach such honour — except for Joseph in Egypt. Remember that Joseph did not exalt himself; Pharaoh exalted him. But Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
One writer looks at the whole scene and names what it shows:
Scripture insists that Esau is Edom, that he is the father of the Edomites. His sons are dukes, and before Israel had a king they had kings. Look at the pride and pomp of dukes and kings, the alliances with God's enemies, and the whole scene with no mark of God on it. We cannot help recognising the line of the flesh, and we see a picture of the headship of Adam.
The order of the two family lines carries a lesson of its own:
It was so with Ishmael and Isaac, and it is so again here. Scripture mentions the rejected line first, but briefly, and does not follow its dates. The chosen line comes second, and then we get enough dates to follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows a principle of God's ways, stated clearly elsewhere: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
The chapter's position in Genesis is no accident either:
At first reading, this account of Esau's family might seem like a disconnected fragment. It could just as well sit a few chapters earlier or later than where it now stands. But no chapter and no word can be moved without spoiling the perfection of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
- Name. Edom means red — the name Esau earned over a bowl of stew. The verse seals his whole family under it.
- Rank. The "dukes" are tribal chiefs — sheikhs, in today's terms. Edom had them, and later kings, before Israel had either.
- Order. First the natural, then the spiritual: Esau's line climbs fast while the family of promise still wanders as shepherds.
- Purpose. The long list of names is God taking full account of the flesh and all it does, and finding it only vanity.
- Result. The flesh gets the titles first; then God does away with the first to establish the second, and the chosen line carries the promise.
These are the sons of Seir the Horite, the inhabitant of the land Lotan, and Shobal, and Zibeon, and Anah,
The list here turns aside from Esau's family to the sons of Seir the Horite, who held this land first. Why name a people outside the line of promise, and what does their brief power teach?
The name points to how they lived, and the land still shows it.
Descendants of Seir, and the original inhabitants of Mount Seir. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of dwellings cut out of the rock. There are traces of the same throughout the region of Edom.
One writer links the switch to where Esau got his power, to the man who gave the mountain its name, and to what came of the two families blending.
Esau was a descendant of Abraham. God called Abraham out from his relatives and his country, to be separate from all peoples and to receive the promises. Esau returns to the people that Abraham left. Neither the call nor the promise was for him. In his sons he rises to supreme power. This may be the reason why the sons of Seir are so abruptly brought in. Seir was a Horite who lived in the land, and as a chief he may have given his name to Mount Seir. The children of Esau dispossessed the Horites. "By your sword you shall live," said Isaac to his firstborn, and Esau's line became the dominant race. Yet soon the two families were blended in Eliphaz, son of Esau, and Timna, daughter of Seir… What could come of such a connection but Amalek, the bitter and first enemy of Israel in the wilderness?
The chapter reads like a roll of titles; the quotes below use the older word "dukes" where newer translations say chiefs. One writer sees a principle in how fast it all grew.
But there is another genealogy (Genesis 36), and it is strikingly introduced in this place. The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned there before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important sign of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
Set the chiefs of Seir and Edom beside Jacob's family, and the contrast is the point.
The world that has turned away from God sets itself up in power, while the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth. This last point is something God distinctly reveals.
The pattern did not stop with Edom.
They not only became "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always taken precedence over the children of God.
Seir's chiefs gave way to Esau's; Esau's kings gave way again to chiefs. That churn is itself the lesson.
Seir rose to power in the earth, and the Horites had their chiefs. Esau joined himself to them, and after a time his descendants rose to what looked like greater power, for kings are named among his descendants. Violence seems to have marked them, for not one king was followed by his son… This change in the form of authority is not unknown in our day. It shows a characteristic element — we might say flaw — in human power: its instability… God lets the world show itself, and its power, or rather lack of power, first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains forever.
- First the land. Seir the Horite lived in that mountain region first. He was a cave-dweller, and his rock-cut homes can still be traced. The land carried his name.
- First the newcomer. Esau had no call and no promise. He joined himself to these people, and his descendants took their land. That is why their family list sits inside his.
- First the rise. What is not of God shoots up fast: chiefs, then kings, long before Israel had either. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
- First the fall. Not one Edomite king was followed by his son. Power built on violence keeps changing hands. That instability is the flaw inside all human greatness.
- Then the promise. The chapter sets the world in full power beside heirs who are still pilgrims. They hold nothing but God's word. The Edomite kings are gone; God's King remains forever.
and Dishon, and Ezer, and Dishan. These are the chiefs of the Horites, the sons of Seir in the land of Edom.
The chapter of Esau's family stops to name a different people: the chiefs who came from Seir the Horite. Why does a list of foreign chiefs stand inside Esau's record at all?
Their name points to how they lived:
Descendants of Seir, and original inhabitants of Mount Seir. They were destroyed by the children of Esau. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of dwellings cut into the rock, and there are traces of the same throughout the region of Edom.
One writer connects the sudden appearance of this family to Esau's own rise to power:
He was a descendant of the man who was called out from his family and country, to be separate from all peoples and to receive the promises. Esau returns to the people that Abraham left. Neither the call nor the promise was for him. In his sons he rises to supreme power. This may be the reason why the sons of Seir are brought in so suddenly (see Genesis 14:6; 36:6-20; Deuteronomy 2:12-22). Seir was a Horite who lived in the land, and as a chief may have given his name to Mount Seir. The children of Esau drove the Horites out.
The same writer shows Esau joining that power and then rising above it:
Seir rose to power in the earth, just as Nimrod did, and the Horites had their chiefs. Esau joined himself to them, and in time his descendants seem to have risen to greater power, for kings are named among them.
Read the chapter straight through and the impression is of title after title. William Kelly sets the Horite chiefs alongside Esau's as rival holders of rank in the same hills:
Others, too, posed as grandees — the sons of Seir the Horite, or cave-dweller, the inhabitant of the land, summarised in verses 29, 30.
That speed of advance is itself the lesson. While Esau's line and the Horite line were producing chiefs and then kings, the family that held God's promise was still living in tents:
The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau… even kings, we are told, reigned before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important point, to mark how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The Horite chiefs held the land, then lost it. One writer traces why their rule kept changing hands:
Violence seems to have marked them, for no king is followed on the throne by his son… And in this change in the form of authority, still seen in our own day, there is a characteristic element — we might say a flaw — in human power: its instability. Man cannot hold supreme and sole power in himself.
If these names lead nowhere, why does Scripture keep them? One writer sees the record itself as God's reckoning:
The long list of names is therefore meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, finding it only vanity.
Another sets this rise to power against where God's own people stood at the time:
The world that has turned away from God sets itself up in power, while the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth.
- Inhabitants. The sons of Seir held Edom first — cave-dwellers in the sandstone hills, named for the way they lived.
- Alliance. Esau went back to the people Abraham was called out from. He joined the Horites, and his sons later drove them out.
- Speed. What is natural rises first and rises fast; what is of God grows slowly, and lasts.
- Instability. Horite chiefs gave way to Edomite kings, and no king was followed by his son — human power cannot hold its shape.
- Account. God writes the whole list down and weighs it. His full account of the flesh reads: vanity — while His heirs were still poor pilgrims on the earth.
-- And the sons of Lotan were Hori and Hemam; and Lotan's sister was Timna.
Genesis 36:22 sits in a list of the Horite chiefs who held Mount Seir before Esau's family took it. Why does Scripture pause on a family outside the line of promise, and who is the sister named here?
Lotan's father was Seir, and Seir's descendants were the first people to live in that land. Their name points to how they lived:
Descendants of Seir, and original inhabitants of Mount Seir. Esau's descendants destroyed them. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of dwellings cut out of the rock, and there are traces of the same throughout the region of Edom.
Lotan is more than a name in a list. A few verses later he stands first among the chiefs of Seir:
Others, too, posed as great men — the sons of Seir the Horite, or cave-dweller, who lived in the land. Verses 29 and 30 sum them up: the chiefs who came from the Horites were Lotan, Shobal, Zibeon, Anah, Dishon, Ezer and Dishan, chiefs of the Horites in the land of Seir.
Timna is the one person in this verse whose story reaches beyond the list. She appears earlier in the same chapter in a different role:
Concubine of Eliphaz, son of Esau, and mother of Amalek. Genesis 36:12.
That link between the Horite line and Esau's line left a long mark on Israel:
Edom became the treacherous enemy of the people of Israel. Read Obadiah, verses 8-16. Eliphaz's concubine was the mother of Amalek, one of the terrible enemies of Israel, and Israel was to be at war with him continually (Exodus 17:8-14).
1 Chronicles lists these two sons again, and spells one name differently:
Son of Lotan, a descendant of Seir. Genesis 36:22. Called HOMAM in 1 Chronicles 1:39.
These are names the world has lost. Writing about another list of forgotten peoples, one writer draws out what such a record means:
Here we have God's unfailing record. He alone saw the end from the beginning, and He has chosen to tell us truth that would otherwise go unnoticed.
Genesis pauses over Edom in the middle of God's dealings with Jacob's line. One writer reads that placement as deliberate:
But there is another genealogy (Genesis 36), and its place here is striking. The Edomite interrupts the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first the natural, afterwards the spiritual. Even then we find power developing fast in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — chief after chief, to the end of the chapter — and even kings reigned there before Israel had any. I have no doubt this is given to us to mark how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts longer.
The chiefs in this verse held Seir first, and then lost it. One writer traces how Esau's line took the land and married into it, then asks where the same choice shows up today:
Esau rose to supreme power in his sons. This may be the reason why the sons of Seir are brought in so suddenly (see Genesis 14:6; 36:6-20; Deuteronomy 2:12-22). Seir was a Horite who inhabited the land, and as a chief may have given his name to Mount Seir. Esau's children drove out the Horim. Isaac said to his firstborn, "By your sword you shall live," and Esau's race became the ruling one. Yet soon the two races were blended in Eliphaz, son of Esau, and Timna, daughter of Seir — one who could claim descent from Abraham joined to one of the race of Ham. What could come of such a connection but Amalek, the bitter and first enemy of Israel in the wilderness?
And where now do we see the greatest hostility to those who would be faithful to the heavenly call? Among those who despise their birthright — a life set apart, and its privileges — and have allied themselves with the world.
- First in the land. Lotan's people lived in Seir before Edom did, in homes cut into the sandstone rock.
- First to mix. Timna, the sister named in this verse, became the concubine of Esau's son Eliphaz.
- First enemy. Her son was Amalek, the first enemy Israel met in the wilderness, and that war never let up.
- First to rise. Edom had chiefs and kings before Israel had any. What is not of God shoots up fast; growth according to God is slower and lasts.
- First to lose it. Esau's sons took Seir from the Horites, and only God's record keeps their names. The warning stands for anyone who trades a birthright for a place in the world.
-- And these are the sons of Shobal Alvan, and Manahath, and Ebal, Shepho and Onam.
This verse sits inside a family list that is not Israel's. It names the sons of Seir the Horite, the people who held the land before Esau's descendants took it. So why does God pause the story of the chosen family to record five names like these?
These men belong to the people who held Mount Seir first. Their name points to how they lived.
Descendants of Seir, and the original inhabitants of Mount Seir. They were destroyed by the children of Esau. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of hollowed-out dwellings, and there are traces of the same throughout the region of Edom.
The men listed in this verse are placed precisely in that family tree.
Son of Shobal, a son of Seir the Horite. Genesis 36:23; 1 Chronicles 1:40.
Esau's line rose to power among people who had no part in the promise. One writer finds there the reason these Horite names break in so suddenly.
He was a descendant of the man who was called out from his relatives and his country, to be separate from all peoples and to receive the promises. Esau returns to the people that Abraham left. Neither the call nor the promise was for him. In his sons he rises to supreme power. This may be the reason why the sons of Seir are so abruptly brought in (see Genesis 14:6; 36:6-20; Deuteronomy 2:12-22). Seir was a Horite who lived in the land, and as a chief he may have given his name to Mount Seir. The Horim were dispossessed by the children of Esau.
Edom's rise is fast, and one writer treats that speed as the point.
The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Kings too, we are told, reigned there before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt that this is given to us as an important sign of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The very order of the two family records carries the same lesson.
It happened with Ishmael and Isaac, and it happens again here. Scripture mentions the rejected line first, but briefly, and does not trace its chronology. The chosen line comes second, and then Scripture gives enough dates to let us follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows a fact that Scripture states clearly as a principle of God's ways: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
Set this chapter beside the life of Jacob, and the contrast is hard to miss.
Thoughtful readers will see why my subject here leaves no room to dwell on Genesis 36. Jacob has nothing to do with the chapter. It has its own important place of sketching the earthly lot of Esau. Still, it teaches us something indirectly. It shows what is natural coming into power first, and what is spiritual afterwards. The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and within it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir.
Another writer puts the same contrast in a single line.
The world that has turned away from God sets itself up in power. Meanwhile the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth. This last is a distinct point of revelation.
The list still does one clear piece of work. It ties three names together for the rest of the Bible.
The chapter also shows clearly that Esau, Edom and Mount Seir mean the same thing. That helps us when we meet these names later in Scripture. Otherwise the many names mentioned may convey little to us.
Yet God kept every name on record, and one writer finds a purpose in that.
Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names, both early and late in the Old Testament. He records them finally in the last book of the New Testament too, but with variations that teach us something. For the Bible is not only God's word. It is a deeply moral book, and those who make the mind everything hardly see that.
- First there. Shobal's sons belong to Seir the Horite's family, the first people in Mount Seir. Esau's children later destroyed and drove them out.
- First in. Their list breaks into the story for a reason. Esau went back to the peoples Abraham was called out from, and rose to power among them.
- First up. What is not of God shoots up fast — chiefs and kings in Edom while Israel had none. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
- First out. Scripture writes the rejected line first and briefly. The chosen line follows, with its dates traced — the first taken away so the second may stand.
- Still kept. The names may tell us little, yet God took pleasure in preserving them. Nothing in this book is filler.
-- And these are the sons of Zibeon both Ajah and Anah. This is the Anah that found the warm springs in the wilderness as he fed the asses of Zibeon his father.
Genesis 36 is a register of Esau's family, and this line stops to record one small find in the desert. Two questions follow: what did Anah find, and why does a chapter of names from the rejected branch of Isaac's family belong in Scripture?
Older English Bibles said Anah found "mules." That was a mistake, and translators have long disagreed about the Hebrew word behind it:
In Genesis 36:24, "mules" should read "hot springs," as the Latin Vulgate has it. See Fuerst's Lexicon. The Greek Septuagint leaves the word untranslated. It occurs nowhere else.
Another note traces how the mistake spread:
Anah found "hot springs" in the wilderness, not "mules." The Vulgate translated the word correctly from early days. Wycliffe's English Bible and the Wycliffite version followed it, and so did the Douay Bible. The Septuagint lost the sense and turned the word into a proper name that means nothing. Later, the Talmud misled Jews with the fables it loved to tell about "mules," some of them filthy, as in this case.
Anah is not one of Esau's sons. He comes from the older people of the region, the Horites, listed a few verses earlier:
They descended from Seir and were the first people of Mount Seir. The children of Esau destroyed them. People think they lived in caves, as their name suggests. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of homes cut into the rock, and traces of the same appear all through the region of Edom.
Anah appears in the list of their leaders:
The sons of Seir the Horite, the cave-dweller who lived in the land, also set themselves up as great men. Verses 29 and 30 sum them up: "These are the chiefs of the Horites: the chiefs Lotan, Shobal, Zibeon, Anah, Dishon, Ezer, and Dishan."
Esau's section of Genesis comes just before Jacob's. That order carries a lesson:
The section called "The generations of Esau" begins at the first verse of Genesis 36 and runs to the first verse of Genesis 37. It was so with Ishmael and Isaac, and so again here. The rejected line comes first and gets only a few words, with no timeline to follow. The chosen line comes second… This pictures in advance a principle of God's ways, stated so clearly in the words: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
Esau's family rose to power early. Commentators read that as a lesson about pace:
It is always so — first comes what is natural, and afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find power growing fast in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — chief this and chief that, to the end of the chapter. Kings even reigned there, we are told, before Israel had any. I have no doubt this is given us to mark how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more lasting.
There is a reason God preserved so long a list:
The long list of names is there to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
One writer draws from Anah's hot springs a lesson about how we serve others:
The Shepherd of Psalm 23 leads His sheep beside still waters and into green pastures. Yet we see the sheep of His pasture treated at times like donkeys and brought to hot springs. Hot, bubbling presentations do not suit Christians… Let us learn to impart refreshment to those for whom Christ died — wherever they may be found.
- Found — Anah found hot springs, not mules. The word occurs only here, and the Latin Vulgate got it right while others guessed.
- Family — he was a Horite, a cave-dweller of Mount Seir, from the people whose land Esau's sons took over.
- First — Scripture records the rejected line first and briefly, then sets it aside to establish the chosen line.
- Fast — Esau's house had chiefs and kings before Israel had any. What is not of God shoots up fast; God's growth is slower and lasts.
- Filed — God keeps the whole record of the flesh, down to one man's find in the desert, and His verdict on it is vanity.
-- And these are the sons of Anah Dishon, and Oholibamah the daughter of Anah.
The two children named here, Dishon and Oholibamah, are not Esau's own descendants. They belong to the family of Seir the Horite, the people already living in the hill country Esau moved into — and Oholibamah ties the two houses together.
One reference work sums up who these people were:
Descendants of Seir, and original inhabitants of Mount Seir. The children of Esau destroyed them. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of carved-out dwellings. Traces of the same appear throughout the region of Edom.
The chapter does not leave them in the background:
Others, too, posed as great men — the sons of Seir the Horite, the cave-dweller, who lived in the land.
This verse names Oholibamah as Anah's child. Earlier in the chapter she appears as one of Esau's wives. One writer notes where Esau took his wives from, and where he chose to live:
After the record of Esau's generations, we notice that he married wives who were Canaanites, Hittites and Hivites — unyielding enemies of God's people. We see, too, that he lived in Mount Seir, a land later cursed… It is an illustration of the flesh, which cannot be improved, even under the very best influence.
Compare this chapter with the earlier account of Esau's marriages, and the wives' names do not match. One reference work offers an explanation:
In the earlier account — Genesis 26:34 and Genesis 28:9 — the names of Esau's wives differ from those in Genesis 36:2-3. The women may have had two names, or they may have received another name at their marriage… Judith, daughter of Beeri, may be the same as Oholibamah, daughter of Anah, if Beeri is her father's name and Anah her mother's.
One writer finds the point in the sheer length of the list:
Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "dukes" before Jacob's family reach such honour… Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. The long list of names is therefore meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
Others are content to admit that much of the detail stays dark. Commenting on the neighbouring verse about Anah's discovery, one writer both corrects the older rendering and stops there:
The New Translation prefers in verse 24 the reading "found the warm springs in the wilderness," rather than "the mules." This was doubtless at that time a memorable discovery, but what spiritual significance this may have for us we do not know.
Edom rises fast, and one writer draws a rule from it:
It is always so — first the natural, then the spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Kings even reigned there before Israel had any. I have no doubt this stands here as an important mark of how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
Another writer puts the same contrast in one line:
The apostate world establishes itself in power, while the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims upon the earth.
Where this list sits in Genesis, between Jacob and Joseph, carries a meaning of its own:
Just as the kings and dukes of Edom appear between Jacob and the coming of Joseph, so the Gentile appears in rule and power before the Lord Jesus is presented to the Jew. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon gone, and they are dismissed in a few words. "These are the generations of Esau."
- Record. God takes full account of the flesh and all it does — and finds it only vanity.
- Roots. Anah's family were Horites, the cave-dwellers of Mount Seir. Esau's children destroyed them.
- Relations. Anah's daughter Oholibamah married Esau. His wives came from peoples who were enemies of God's people.
- Rate. What is not of God shoots up fast; growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
- Result. Their power was short-lived and their greatness soon gone. A list of names is all these dukes and kings receive.
-- And these are the sons of Dishon Hemdan, and Eshban, and Ithran, and Cheran.
This verse sits deep inside a list of names. These men are not Esau's family. They are the people who lived in Mount Seir before him. Four sons of Dishon get one line each, and then the record moves on. Why does Scripture keep such a careful account of a family that left no mark on its story?
Dishon was one of the sons of Seir. His people were the Horites, and their name points to how they lived:
Descendants of Seir, and the original inhabitants of Mount Seir. They were destroyed by the children of Esau. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of hollowed-out dwellings, and there are traces of the same throughout the region of Edom.
Esau's sons did not settle beside them. They took the land, and one writer explains what made it worth taking:
They coveted the possessions of the Horites at Mount Seir in early days (Deuteronomy 2:22), a distinct people who lived in caves and holes in the ground. But the sons of Edom destroyed them and took their place... The Edomites coveted such a natural fortress because it suited their destiny well. They were a remarkably warlike people. At the edge of the desert they were open to raids from robbers. They saw with clear instinct that the rocky homes of Mount Seir would be an excellent means of easy defence against surprise attack.
The same four brothers appear again in 1 Chronicles 1:41, where the first name is different:
Hemdan. Eldest son of Dishon the Horite. Genesis 36:26. Called AMRAM in 1 Chronicles 1:41.
These differences are not accidental. One writer says of the genealogies:
They contain deliberate omissions and changes in the order of names, meant to bring out the purpose of the Spirit of God.
Esau's line produced chiefs and kings before Israel had any. One writer takes that as a pattern:
But there is another genealogy (Genesis 36), and it is strikingly introduced at this place. The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned there before Israel had any. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important sign of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
Scripture does not linger over any of these men. Their names stand just before the story of Joseph, and that same order returns later in the Bible:
Just as the kings and dukes of Edom appear between Jacob and the appearance of Joseph, so the Gentile appears in rule and power before the Lord Jesus is presented to the Jew. The history books of the Old Testament close with the captivity in Babylon, and the New Testament opens with Jesus, born King of the Jews. The Holy Spirit does not occupy us with describing the grandeur and might of those who rose to prominence when Israel lost the inheritance. He mentions them only where they touch the condition of Israel, as Ahasuerus and Nebuchadnezzar did. He passes on instead to the birth of the true King. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon gone, and Scripture dismisses them in a few words. "These are the generations of Esau."
If these names carry no story, why record them at all? One writer finds God's verdict on human nature in the length of the list itself:
Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "chiefs" (verses 15-43) before Jacob's family reach such honour — except for Joseph in Egypt. We must remember that Joseph did not exalt himself. Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family, however, shows the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress one fact on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it only vanity.
- Cave — Dishon belonged to the Horites, the first people of Mount Seir. Their name marks them as cave-dwellers in the sandstone cliffs.
- Conquest — Esau's sons coveted that natural fortress. They destroyed the Horites and took their place, so the record of this family ends here.
- Speed — The natural comes first and shoots up fast; growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
- Silence — Scripture gives these men names and nothing more. Their power was short-lived, and the record passes on to the true King.
- Vanity — The long list is God's full account of the flesh and all it achieved. The verdict is vanity.
-- These are the sons of Ezer Bilhan, and Zaavan, and Akan.
Genesis 36:27 lists three sons of Ezer — Bilhan, Zaavan, and Akan — from a family line that is not Esau's own, but that of Seir the Horite. Scripture names them and drops them, so why keep a list like this at all?
Ezer belongs to the people who lived in Mount Seir first. One dictionary sums up who they were and what became of them:
Descendants of Seir, and original inhabitants of Mount Seir. The children of Esau destroyed them. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of carved-out dwellings. Traces of the same appear throughout the region of Edom.
One of the three names in this verse resurfaces far from Edom. Akan appears later under a slightly different spelling, attached to a place Israel camped at on the way through the wilderness:
Son of Ezer, a son of Seir. Deuteronomy 10:6; 1 Chronicles 1:42. Same as AKAN in Genesis 36:27.
The Horite line breaks into a chapter that is otherwise about Esau. One writer ties that insertion to Esau's rise to power, and to a pattern in God's ways:
We see here a clear and settled principle in God's ways with man: first the natural, afterwards the spiritual... In his sons he rises to supreme power. This may be the reason why the sons of Seir are so abruptly brought in (see Genesis 14:6; 36:6-20; Deuteronomy 2:12-22). Seir was a Horite who lived in the land, and as a chief he may have given his name to Mount Seir. The children of Esau drove out the Horim.
Ezer's sons lost their land. One writer says who stood behind such a handover:
Long ago these possessions were in the hands of giants. But it was God's purpose to hand over their territories to the children of Esau and Lot, so He destroyed these giants. For who or what can stand in the way of the divine counsels?
The same chapter that lists Seir's grandsons goes on to list rulers. Set that beside the family that carried the promise:
The family of promise remain shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and inside it, and are even harshly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise quickly into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir. The descendants of Edom soon claim the rank of chiefs.
Bilhan, Zaavan, and Akan teach nothing on their own. The length of the list is the lesson:
The man "after the flesh" cannot live together with the one whom God chooses. Yet Esau (Edom) prospers and develops greatly in a material way, his sons becoming "dukes" before Jacob's family attain such honour... Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to press one fact on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
A few verses dispose of the power that once filled the land. One writer sees a pattern in where these names sit, and in how little room they get:
Just as the kings and chiefs of Edom appear between Jacob and the appearance of Joseph, so the Gentile appears in dominion and power before the Lord Jesus is presented to the Jews. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this chief and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon gone, and they are dismissed without ceremony. "These are the generations of Esau." But when the Holy Spirit speaks of the "generations of Jacob," there is but one Man before His mind, and ten chapters follow, giving His typical history.
- Names. Bilhan, Zaavan, and Akan are grandsons of Seir the Horite, one of the cave-dwelling people who lived in Mount Seir first.
- Land. The land did not stay theirs. Esau's children drove them out, and God's purpose stood behind the handover. Nothing can block it.
- Power. Edom gains chiefs and kings while the chosen family are still wandering shepherds. The natural comes first, the spiritual afterwards.
- Account. God keeps a full account of the flesh and all it achieves. The long roll of forgotten names is that account, and the verdict is vanity.
- Purpose. One chapter disposes of Esau's line. The generations of Jacob get ten chapters, because one Man is in view.
-- These are the sons of Dishan Uz and Aran.
Genesis 36:28 names the two sons of Dishan, a chief of the Horites — the people who held Mount Seir before Esau. Who were these men, and why does God record a family outside the chosen line?
This verse sits inside a second family list. After Esau's own sons and chiefs, the record turns to the people who held Seir before him.
Others, too, set themselves up as great men: the sons of Seir the Horite, or cave-dweller, who lived in the land. Verses 29 and 30 sum them up: "These are the chiefs of the Horites: the chiefs Lotan, Shobal, Zibeon, Anah, Dishon, Ezer, and Dishan."
The second name in the verse has a meaning of its own.
Aran — A wild goat; I shall shout for joy
The Horites lived in Seir before Esau. Their name matches their homes, and the family that took the land also wiped them out.
Descendants of Seir, and the original inhabitants of Mount Seir. The children of Esau destroyed them. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of dwellings cut into them. Traces of the same appear right through the region of Edom.
The first name in the verse turns up far outside Genesis, as a place. Commentators differ on where it lay.
The native land of Job, perhaps the district settled by the descendants of one of the above, or of Huz the son of Nahor. Job 1:1; Jeremiah 25:20; Lamentations 4:21. People suppose it lay in the south-east of Palestine, towards the Arabian desert. Such a land would lie open to attacks from the Sabeans and the Chaldeans.
One ancient translation took the link even further, tying Job to a name in this very chapter.
The Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament) even identifies Job with Jobab, the second king of the Edomites (Genesis 36:33).
Another family tree cuts into the story at this point, and its timing is the lesson.
But there is another genealogy (Genesis 36), and its place here is striking. The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual... I have no doubt that this is given to us as an important sign of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The sheer length of this list is itself the point.
So the long list of names is meant to impress one thing on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it only vanity.
And the names are all we get. No deeds, no dates, no story.
Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this chief and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness faded, and they are quickly dismissed. "These are the generations of Esau."
The pattern of the chapter matches a pattern running right through Scripture.
As with Ishmael and Isaac, so again here the rejected line comes first, but briefly, and without its dates. The chosen line comes second, and then we get enough dates to follow the passing of the years. So the chapter pictures what Scripture states so clearly as a principle of God's ways: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
- Named. Uz and Aran are sons of Dishan, one of the Horite chiefs — the cave-dwelling people who held Mount Seir before Esau.
- Displaced. The children of Esau destroyed those same Horites, so this family tree lists a people who no longer exist.
- Located. Uz appears again as Job's homeland. Commentators differ on where it lay, and one ancient translation even identifies Job with Jobab, an early king of Edom.
- Fast. What is not of God shoots up fast. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
- Dismissed. God takes full account of the flesh and finds it only vanity. A bare list, no story — God does away with the first to establish the second.
These are the chiefs of the Horites chief Lotan, chief Shobal, chief Zibeon, chief Anah,
Genesis 36 pauses the story of Jacob to set out Esau's family tree. In the middle of it comes a short roll-call of another people: the chiefs of the Horites, who lived in the region first. Why does Scripture list their leaders at all, and what has this list to do with God's own line?
The name itself tells you how these people lived, and what became of them.
Descendants of Seir, and the original inhabitants of Mount Seir. They were destroyed by the children of Esau. Genesis 14:6; Genesis 36:20-21, 29; Deuteronomy 2:12, 22. It is thought that they were cave dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of hollowed-out dwellings. Traces of the same appear throughout the region of Edom.
The range they held did not keep their name.
This was the early name of the long range of mountains that runs from about eight miles south of the Salt Sea to near the Gulf of Akaba. It is also called "the land of Seir." The Horites occupied it at first, and afterwards the descendants of Esau, and it acquired the name of EDOM. The word of Jehovah announced to the prophet the unending desolation of Mount Seir. Ezekiel 35:2-15.
The chapter has already listed Esau's own chiefs. This verse adds a second set of dignitaries, drawn from the people who were there first. (Older translations read "dukes" where the ESV has "chiefs.")
Others, too, posed as great men: the sons of Seir the Horite, or cave dweller, who lived in the land. Verses 29 and 30 sum them up.
Two of the four names here appear earlier in the chapter: Zibeon and Anah. Esau had taken a wife from this family.
One of the wives of Esau: she was the daughter of Anah, daughter of Zibeon the Hivite. She bore to Esau "the chiefs Jeush, Jalam, and Korah." Genesis 36:2-25.
Commentators read Esau's marriages as a picture of human nature itself.
After the account of Esau's generations, we notice that he married wives who were Canaanites, Hittites and Hivites — bitter enemies of God's people. We see, too, that he lived in Mount Seir. That land was cursed later, and the curse will remain on it even in the days of the millennium, when the wilderness will blossom like a rose. It is an illustration of the flesh, which cannot be improved even under the very best influence.
Edom rose fast, while God's own line grew slowly. Commentators treat that order as deliberate.
The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We discern at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first the natural, then the spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Kings too, we are told, reigned there before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt that this is given us as an important element to mark how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
There is a reason the whole catalogue is bare names and nothing more.
When Israel lost the inheritance, others rose to greatness. The Holy Spirit does not occupy us with describing their grandeur and might. He takes them up only where they touch the condition of Israel, as with Ahasuerus and Nebuchadnezzar. He passes on instead to the birth of the true King. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived. Their greatness soon faded. A few words dismiss them.
What God does with such a record is not to admire it, but to weigh it.
Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to press one truth on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and He finds it only vanity.
- Cave dwellers. The Horites lived in Mount Seir first. Their name, it is thought, points to the rock homes still seen across Edom.
- Chiefs. They had their own chiefs, listed here beside Esau's. Soon the land would carry another name.
- Allied. Esau's wife came from this very family, from Anah and Zibeon, named in this verse. He married into the people of the land.
- Displaced. The children of Esau took their land, and Mount Seir became Edom. Such power rose fast and did not last.
- Weighed. God writes the names down and moves on. Growth from Him is slower but it lasts. He counts the rest and finds it vanity.
chief Dishon, chief Ezer, chief Dishan. These are the chiefs of the Horites, according to their chiefs in the land of Seir.
Genesis 36 lists Esau's family, then pauses over an older one — the chiefs of the Horites, who held the land of Seir before him. Why does Scripture name the rulers of a people outside the line of promise?
The Horites were in Mount Seir first, and their name is a clue to how they lived.
Descendants of Seir, and the original inhabitants of Mount Seir. They were destroyed by the children of Esau. It is thought that they were cave-dwellers, as the name implies. The sandstone rocks of Mount Seir are full of hollowed-out dwellings. Traces of the same are found throughout the region of Edom.
Yet the men with cave homes carried grand titles. One writer notes the contrast as he reaches these verses:
Others, too, posed as grandees — the sons of Seir the Horite, the cave-dweller, the inhabitant of the land.
One writer ties this list to Esau's own rise:
In his sons he rises to supreme power. This may be the reason why the sons of Seir are brought in so suddenly. Seir was a Horite who lived in the land, and as a chief he may have given his name to Mount Seir. The Horim were driven out by the children of Esau. "By your sword you shall live," said Isaac to his firstborn; and Esau's became the dominant race.
Another writer points to what drove the takeover.
They coveted the possessions of the Horims at Mount Seir in early days… But the sons of Edom destroyed them and took their place.
Fighting was not the only contact between them.
Yet soon the two races were blended in Eliphaz, son of Esau, and Timna, daughter of Seir — a union of one who could claim descent from Abraham with one of the race of Ham. What could come of such a connection but Amalek, the bitter and first enemy of Israel in the wilderness?
Older translations call these men "dukes." The word marks a tribal rank. The same chapter then names a higher one.
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In today's language these would probably be the sheikhs of their tribes. Then later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel… They had dukes and even kings flourishing among them. Meanwhile the children of Israel as a whole were obscure and unsettled.
One writer sees a fixed order behind this early greatness.
We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, then what is spiritual… I have no doubt this is given to us as an important sign. It marks how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
Another writer widens the contrast beyond Edom.
The world that has turned away from God sets itself up in power. Meanwhile the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth. This is a distinct point of revelation.
The chapter itself shows the arrangement shifting — chiefs, then kings, then chiefs again.
Seir rose to power in the earth, and the Horim had their dukes. Esau joined himself to them, and after a time his descendants rose to what looked like greater power, for kings are named among them. Violence seems to have marked them, for not one king is followed by his son. As one faction won out over another, different cities threw up different kings. Then, it seems, the royal authority was cut back, and dukes followed. In this change in the form of authority there is a characteristic element — we might say flaw — in human power: its instability.
Scripture gives these men no story, only their names — and then moves on.
Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon gone, and they are briefly dismissed.
- Cave-dwellers. The Horites descended from Seir and held Mount Seir first. Their name points to the rock homes still seen across Edom.
- Dispossessed. Esau's sons wanted their land and took their place. Esau lived by his sword. The two lines then married, and Amalek came of that union.
- Titled. "Duke" here means a tribal chief. Edom had chiefs, then kings, while Israel was still obscure and unsettled.
- Premature. The order is fixed: what is natural first, what is spiritual after. What is not of God shoots up fast. God's growth is slower and lasts.
- Dismissed. Chiefs gave way to kings, then back to chiefs. Human power cannot hold. Scripture leaves these men as a bare list and moves on.
And these are the kings that reigned in the land of Edom before there reigned a king over the children of Israel.
Genesis 36 pauses Jacob's story to list the descendants of his brother Esau. Verse 31 records an awkward fact: Edom had kings while the chosen family had none — and critics have used the line to date Genesis long after Moses.
Where this record sits is part of the lesson. One writer sees a fixed order behind how fast Esau's family rose:
But there is another genealogy (Gen. 36), and strikingly introduced in this place. The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — chief after chief, right to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned there before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt that this is given to us as an important element to mark how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
God had pledged royalty to Jacob's line, not Esau's. Yet the brother without the promise got the crown first:
Edom had kings before Israel had any; that is all that is said. The point to be recorded is that Edom had them at a time when Israel still had none. Edom was a settled nation with regular rule before God's people Israel were. In the chapter before, God had promised that kings would come from Jacob. Yet the natural went first in apparent strength: God's people must wait His time.
Critics say the verse looks back from the days when Israel had kings. Commentators answer that the wording points the other way, and that one small word settles it:
The passage in Genesis 36:31, which critics stress most, is surely from Moses… Israel had the promise of kings; Esau had not. Yet Esau had many kings, one after another, long before any sign of royalty appeared in the people who held that promise. If the passage had been written after Saul or David's line began to reign, the wording would have been different — not "any" or "a" king, but "the king" or "the kings."
Darby also puts a limit on how long that Edomite line ran:
The list of kings in Edom consists of eight. Now Phinehas was the seventh in descent from Jacob, and he was in full strength and activity in the time of Moses. So the kings of Edom named in Genesis very possibly did not extend beyond the time of Moses, though we are not given the data to fix when they began.
How did each of these kings get his throne? One writer rules out a popular answer:
Since no son succeeded his father, some think the Edomite monarchy was elective. But this supposes the people had enough power to choose their own ruler — a democratic principle we have no ground to suppose existed in those early days. Violence and lust of power were there, and bore fruit. The ambitious, unscrupulous man will try to win over the crowds and ride them to power. That is a different thing from an elective monarchy. What we do see in Esau's descendants, and what has marked the world, is rival factions fighting for power, where of course the strongest arm wins. God lets the world show itself, and its power, or rather lack of power, first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. For there were kings in Edom before any were found in Israel. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains for ever.
For Israel, this contrast was more than history. It pressed on their trust:
It was no small moral test for the sons of Israel. God had given them His promises, yet Esau's descendants were long settled in peace as lords of their own soil. Jacob and his family, meanwhile, lived as strangers who were only tolerated, and were soon to be slaves — slaves for a long while — in the land of Ham… And the Bible holds, in the same books, both the promise and the trial that early appearances made for faith. It sets it all down calmly, as the word of One who sees the end from the beginning.
Here the word "king" appears only as something Israel did not have. Its first positive use comes later, and points beyond David:
This is the first positive mention of a king in Israel, for in Genesis 36:31 the word is mentioned in a purely negative way. David was raised up as a king, a picture of Christ; but only when Christ Himself returns in glory will "the shout of a king" really be heard among them.
- First, not lasting. What is not of God shoots up quickly; growth according to God is slower but more permanent.
- Promised, not yet given. God pledged kings to Jacob's line, never to Esau's. Yet Esau wore crowns first. God's people must wait His time.
- Written, not edited. The verse says "any king," not "the king," which points to a writer who knew no king in Israel at all.
- Seized, not inherited. No Edomite son succeeded his father; the strongest arm won, and every one of those thrones is gone.
- Tested, then answered. The same books hold both the promise and the trial. Edom's kings are gone; God's King remains, and Israel will yet hear the shout of a king.
And Bela the son of Beor reigned in Edom; and the name of his city was Dinhabah.
Genesis 36:32 names Edom's first king, Bela, and the city he ruled from. Esau's line has a crowned king while Israel has none, and that order is what the chapter is recording.
Bela's name opens a list the chapter follows to its end, before it turns back to chiefs.
This was not the height of their development. Scripture traces no fewer than eight kings in succession from Bela to Hadar, though it is careful to note that Esau's chiefs appear again (vv. 40-43).
Verse 31 sets Edom's kings against Israel's lack of them. One writer weighs the exact wording.
In Genesis 36:31 it is said, before there was any king in Israel. Edom had kings before Israel had any; that is all that is said. Edom's having any when Israel had had none was the point to be recorded. It was a settled nation, ruled in an orderly way, before God's people Israel were. The natural went first in apparent strength: God's people must wait His time. Notice that it does not say, before kings, or the kings, reigned, as if it were a history. It says before a king, or any king, reigned. That seems to point to a time when there was no king at all that anyone knew of. Yet kings had been promised to Jacob, and the first place, and none to Esau; yet Esau had them when Jacob had none.
How long did these reigns run? One writer measures them against a man alive in Moses' day.
The list of kings in Edom consists of eight. Now Phinehas was the seventh from Jacob, and he was in full activity and strength in the time of Moses. So the kings of Edom named in Genesis very possibly did not extend beyond the time of Moses, though we are not given the data to fix when they began.
Commentators read this order as a pattern that repeats.
The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important point, to mark how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The same pattern shows up in ordinary life:
The children of Esau had chiefs in plenty. This is an early example of what we find so often in Scripture and in our own experience: the man who loves the world and ignores God goes ahead in the world beyond the man who fears God.
Bela reigns from Dinhabah; the next king comes from another city, and so on down the list.
Violence seems to have characterised them, for not one king is succeeded by his son. As one faction won out over another, different cities produced different kings. In the end, it appears, their royal authority was cut back, and chiefs followed them. This change in the form of authority is not unknown in our own day. It shows a characteristic element — we might say flaw — in human power: its instability. Man is unable to keep supreme and sole power in himself.
Scripture gives these rulers a line each and moves on.
The Holy Spirit does not occupy us with the grandeur and might of those who rose to power when Israel lost the inheritance… He passes on to the birth of the true King. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this chief and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived and their greatness faded, and Scripture dismisses them in a few words.
Against that fading list stands one throne that does not change hands:
God lets the world show itself, and its power — or rather its lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. For there were kings in Edom before any were found in Israel. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King abides for ever. Edom is singled out like this because of their great hatred of Israel. They were among the most relentless of all the nations around them (Num. 20:14-21). It showed long years later, when the Edomite rejoiced at the overthrow of Jerusalem by the Babylonians (Psalm 137). For this very reason they are remembered for judgment (Obadiah 10).
- First — Edom had a settled, ordered kingdom before Israel did. The natural comes first, the spiritual after.
- Fast — what is not of God shoots up quickly; growth according to God is slower but lasts.
- Fragile — no Edomite king handed his crown to his son. Rival factions and rival cities exposed the flaw in human power: it cannot hold.
- Forgotten — Bela and the rest get a name and a city, and nothing more. Their power was short-lived, and Scripture dismisses them in a few words.
- Forever — kings were promised to Jacob and none to Esau. God's people must wait His time. The Edomite kings are gone; God's King abides for ever.
And Bela died; and Jobab the son of Zerah of Bozrah reigned in his stead.
Genesis stops to list the kings of Edom while Jacob's family is still a wandering household. One king dies, another takes his place, and a whole reign fits in a single line. Why does Scripture record a foreign royal line at all? What should we see in a throne that keeps changing hands?
Chapter 36 sets Esau's greatness beside Jacob's obscurity. The contrast is about timing.
The world that has turned away from God sets itself up in power, while the heirs of the promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth. This last point is a distinct part of what God has revealed.
The speed of that rise is itself the lesson.
The Edomite line interrupts the course of God's dealings. We see at once how fully developed it already was. It is always so — first the natural, then the spiritual. Even then we find power growing fast in the family of Esau… I have no doubt this is given to us for an important reason. It marks how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
God promised kings to Jacob's line, not to Esau's. Yet Bela and Jobab already reign, and Jacob's family still has no king.
Edom had kings before Israel had any; that is all that is said. The point worth recording was that Edom had kings while Israel still had none. Edom was a settled nation under steady rule before God's people Israel were. In the chapter before, God had promised that kings would come from Jacob. Yet the natural went first in apparent strength: God's people must wait His time.
Some argue that a list like this comes from long after Moses. The wording itself answers them.
Suppose this passage came from a time after Saul or David's line began to reign. The wording would then have been different — not "any" king or "a" king, but "the king" or "the kings."
Jobab does not inherit from Bela; he replaces him. That pattern runs through the whole list.
The kings of Edom are listed next… Violence marks this whole race, because not a single one of these kings has his own son as his successor.
One writer traces the pattern to rival factions fighting for the crown:
As one faction won out over another, different cities produced different kings. In the end, it seems, their royal authority was cut back, and dukes followed them. We still see this change in the form of authority in our own day. It shows a typical feature — we might say a flaw — of human power: its instability. Man is unable to retain supreme and sole power in himself.
Jobab comes from Bozrah. The prophets name that same city again.
Bozrah was the royal city of Edom, and the prophets pronounced judgments on it… Christ is pictured coming from there with garments stained red, after treading the winepress of His wrath on the nations (Gentiles). Isa. 63:1-4: compare Isa. 34.
One writer explains why judgment falls on this nation in particular, and what outlasts its kings:
God lets the world show itself first, and its power — or rather its lack of power. Then comes His purpose, with its firm foundation… The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains forever. Edom gets this special mention because of their great hatred of Israel. They were one of the most relentless of all the nations around them (Num. 20:14-21). It showed itself long years later, when the Edomites rejoiced at the overthrow of Jerusalem by the Babylonians (Psalm 137). For this very reason God remembers them for judgment (Obadiah 10).
Job's homeland is placed in or near Edom, and one ancient translation goes a step further.
Most place the land of Uz (chapter 1:1) east of the river Jordan, toward the border of Arabia, in the land of Edom (compare Lam. 4:21) or nearby. In the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament) Job is even identified with Jobab, the second king of the Edomites (Gen. 36:33).
- Timing. The world's power comes up first and fast; the heirs of promise are still pilgrims. What is not of God shoots up quickly — growth according to God is slower, but lasts.
- Promise. Israel had the promise of kings and none yet; Edom had no such promise and had a line of them already. God's people must wait His time.
- Wording. "Any king," not "the king," fits a writer who lived before Israel had kings — Moses, not a later hand.
- Instability. Bela dies and Jobab takes his place; no son ever succeeds his father. Man cannot hold power in himself.
- Ending. Bozrah, the city named in this verse, is where the prophets say judgment will fall. Edom's kings are gone. God's King remains forever.
And Jobab died; and Husham of the land of the Temanites reigned in his stead.
Genesis 36 pauses the story of Jacob to list the kings who ruled in Edom. This verse marks one more change on that throne, and it raises the question the whole list raises: why does Scripture keep count of Esau's rulers at all?
One writer takes up the obvious objection: a chapter like this could sit anywhere in the book.
At first reading, this account of Esau's generation might seem a disconnected fragment — one that could just as well have been put a few chapters earlier or later. But neither chapter nor word can be moved without spoiling the perfection of God's word. There is divine wisdom in placing it just where it is.
Edom's crowns came early, and one writer explains why that head start counts for little.
The Edomite interrupts the course of God's dealings. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter — even kings, as we are told, reigned before there were any such in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us to mark how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
One writer ties the list to the promise made to Jacob a chapter earlier, then counts how many kings it holds.
In the chapter before, kings had been promised to come from Jacob's own body. Yet the natural went first in apparent strength: God's people must wait His time. The list of kings in Edom consists of eight. Now Phinehas was the seventh from Jacob, and he was still fully active and strong in the time of Moses. So the kings of Edom named in Genesis very possibly did not extend beyond the time of Moses, though we are not given the data to fix when they began.
Jobab does not hand the crown to a son, and neither does anyone else in the chain.
The kings of Edom are enumerated next. Violence characterizes this entire race, for not a single one of these kings has his son as successor.
One writer sees the same scramble for power running through the world's history.
What we do see in Esau's descendants, and what has marked the world, is rival factions contending for power, where of course the strongest arm wins. God lets the world show itself, and its power — or rather its lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains for ever.
The verse names the new king by his region, not by his father. Teman lay in the south and carried a reputation of its own.
Son of Eliphaz, a son of Esau, and a duke of Edom; also his descendants and the district they lived in. It is four times connected with Edom and twice with Dedan, which places it in the south. Its wisdom is spoken of, and God's judgements are pronounced upon it. One of Job's friends was Eliphaz the Temanite.
Another writer weighs that wisdom and finds it wanting.
Teman's wisdom is also a dependent wisdom, and has to be. But it is Edomite, not Israelite — so it leans on the flesh. He has no faith in God to keep him steady, or to give him fixed points to reason from.
Notice how little the record itself says about these men.
The Holy Spirit does not take up the grandeur and might of those who rose to power when Israel lost its inheritance, except where they touched Israel's own condition. He passes on to the birth of the true King. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness faded, and they are briefly dismissed. "These are the generations of Esau."
The length of the list is itself the message.
Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. The long list of names is therefore meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, finding it only vanity.
- First. What is natural rises first and fast; Edom has kings while the family of promise still wanders with flocks.
- Fragile. Jobab dies and a man from another district takes the throne. The list holds eight kings, and not one passes the crown to a son. Writers trace that to violence and rivalry, not to settled succession.
- Wise. Husham comes from Teman, a district famous for its wisdom, yet it is a wisdom with no fixed point in God to reason from.
- Forgotten. The whole line gets a bare list of names. Their power was short-lived, and Scripture drops them quickly.
- Lasting. Edom's kings are gone and God's King remains. So the heirs of promise wait for His time. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
And Husham died; and Hadad the son of Bedad, who smote Midian in the fields of Moab, reigned in his stead. And the name of his city was Avith.
This verse sits inside a long list of Edom's kings, and it pauses over one battle: a king of Edom struck Midian out in Moab's open country. Why does a book about God's promise to Abraham stop to record a foreign king's military win?
Two names in this verse repay a closer look. Avith is the city named at the end of it:
City of Edom in the east of Moab, seat of Hadad the fourth king. Gen. 36:35; 1 Chr. 1:46.
"Hadad" itself may not be a personal name at all:
Apparently 'Hadad' was a title of the kings of Edom rather than a name.
The people Hadad struck were not strangers to Abraham's family. Midian was one of Abraham's own sons. His line stood as a pledge of blessing for the nations, yet its history ran the other way:
Midian, a son of Abraham by Keturah, is — as we saw in Genesis 25 — like Abraham's other children a witness and pledge that the nations of the earth will find blessing at last in him... But the story of both Ishmael and Midian, like man's story everywhere, tells of something very different from God's grace... So Midian stands for the world, as the world's history has shown it to be. The name fits: it means "strife."
Hadad's victory is one line in a pattern. Isaac had told Esau how his descendants would live. One commentator sees Edom's whole history in that word:
There can be no question that the character of Edom matches what the Lord lets us know through Isaac: "by your sword you shall live, and shall serve your brother... you shall break his yoke from off your neck." It would be hard to imagine a prediction of this kind where every word came true more exactly in the whole history of man than in the life and changes of Edom and Israel.
Edom produced kings early. The family that held God's promise did not. Where this chapter sits in Genesis makes the point:
The Edomite interrupts the line of God's dealings. We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find power developing fast in the family of Esau... I have no doubt this record is here to mark an important thing: how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts longer.
The same list shows the family of promise living at the opposite end of the scale:
The family of promise stay shepherds and herdsmen. They wander here and there, outside the land and inside it, and are even badly oppressed. Meanwhile the generations of Edom rise fast into importance, away from Canaan, in Mount Seir.
Read the list of Edom's kings and one thing is missing: not one of them hands his crown to his son. Commentators differ on why. Some think Edom's people chose their kings. One writer answers more bluntly:
Because no son succeeded his father, some think the Edomites elected their kings. But that assumes the people held enough power to choose their own ruler... Violence and the lust for power were there, and they bore fruit... What we do see in Esau's descendants, and what has marked the world, is rival groups fighting for power, and of course the strongest arm wins. God lets the world show itself, and its power — or rather its lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. For Edom had kings before Israel had any. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King abides for ever.
A name, a battle, a city — then the next king. The list has a purpose:
So the long list of names is here to impress one thing on us: God has taken full account of the flesh and everything it does, and finds it only vanity.
- Sword. Isaac told Esau he would live by his sword. An Edomite king striking Midian in Moab is that word coming true in a single line.
- Speed. What is not of God shoots up fast — Edom had kings while Jacob's family were still wandering shepherds. Slower growth lasts longer.
- Strife. Midian was Abraham's son too, and the name means strife. Here relatives fight relatives.
- Succession. Not one Edomite king is followed by his son. The strongest arm wins, then loses, and the throne passes sideways again.
- Settled. Edom's kings are gone; God's King remains. The list is God's full accounting of human power, filed and found to be vanity.
And Hadad died; and Samlah of Masrekah reigned in his stead.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Samlah died; and Saul of Rehoboth on the river reigned in his stead.
Genesis 36:37 sits inside a short royal list. Eight men ruled Edom one after another, long before Israel had a king. One king dies and another takes his place, and the new man comes from a city far away by a river. Why does Scripture record the kings of a rejected line at all?
The verse names a king and his home town, not his father. Older translations read only "by the river"; the ESV names the river as the Euphrates. Reference works on Bible places put that town far to the north-east:
A city in the East, "by the river," from which a man named Saul, or Shaul, became an early king of Edom (Genesis 36:37; 1 Chronicles 1:48). There are two places named Rahabeh near the Euphrates which may be these cities. One of them is called Rahabeh Melek, that is, "royal."
Run down the list and one thing is missing everywhere: an heir. Samlah dies and a man from another place takes over, exactly as happened at each earlier step.
The kings of Edom are listed next (verses 43-54; compare Genesis 36:31-42). Violence marks this whole race, for not one of these kings has his son as his successor.
Commentators differ on what produced that pattern. Some have suggested the Edomites chose their kings by vote; others read the broken succession as the mark of rival groups fighting for the top place:
Violence seems to have marked them, for not one king is succeeded by his son. As one faction won out over another, so kings arose from different cities... This change in the form of authority is not unknown in our own day. It shows a characteristic element — we might call it a flaw — in human power: it is unstable.
The list itself notes that these men ruled before Israel had any king. That note points back to a promise God made to the other brother:
Israel had the promise of kings, and Esau had no such promise. Yet Esau had one king after another long before any sign of royalty appeared in the one who held that promise. A writer living after the line of Saul or David began to reign would have put it differently — not "any" or "a" king, but "the king" or "the kings."
Esau's family climbs from chiefs to crowned heads within a few generations, while the chosen family is still wandering with its flocks. Writers see a settled principle in the contrast:
Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned among them before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important point, to mark how quickly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more lasting.
None of this fell outside God's word. Isaac's blessing on Esau came true:
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He held his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied and became chiefs and men of note. They became not only "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always gone ahead of the children of God.
What is a list of forgotten Edomite rulers doing in the Bible? One answer: God keeps a full record of what human strength achieves on its own:
The long list of names is meant to impress one thing on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it only vanity.
This one nation gets a special notice, and the record has an ending its kings never saw:
God lets the world display itself and its power — or rather its lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. For there were kings in Edom before any were found in Israel. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains for ever. Edom gets this special mention because of their great hatred of Israel. They were as unyielding as any of the nations around them (Numbers 20:14-21). It showed long years later, when the Edomite rejoiced at the overthrow of Jerusalem by the Babylonians (Psalm 137). For that very reason they are remembered for judgment (Obadiah 10).
- First, not lasting. Edom had crowns while Israel had none. What is not of God shoots up fast; growth according to God is slower and lasts.
- No heir. Shaul follows Samlah the way every Edomite king follows the last. No son inherits. Violence and rival factions put each man on the throne, not a settled house.
- From elsewhere. The new king comes from Rehoboth on the river, a place linked with sites near the Euphrates.
- Promise outwaited. Israel held the promise of kings and had none yet. Esau held no such promise and had eight. God's purpose comes second and stands.
- Counted and closed. The list is God's full account of the flesh, and He finds it only vanity. Edom's kings are gone and remembered for judgment; God's King remains for ever.
And Saul died; and Baal-hanan the son of Achbor reigned in his stead.
Genesis 36:38 is one line in a list of Edom's rulers: one king dies, and a man from another family steps into his place. The names pass quickly, but they carry a question: why record Edom's kings at all, and why before Israel had any?
Baal-hanan has a fixed place in Edom's king list, and 1 Chronicles keeps the same record.
The seventh of the ancient kings of Edom. Gen. 36:38-39; 1 Chr. 1:49-50.
The name itself has a meaning.
Baal-hanan — Baal is merciful.
Shaul dies and Baal-hanan takes over, yet Baal-hanan is the son of Achbor, not of Shaul. That pattern holds through the whole list. Commentators read the broken family line as a sign of how power changed hands, and of how poorly men hold it.
Violence seems to have marked Esau's descendants, since no son follows his father on the throne. As one faction prevailed over another, so kings arose from different cities, until it seems the kingly authority was cut back and dukes followed them. In this change in the form of authority there is a characteristic element — we might say flaw — in human power: it is unstable. Man is unable to keep supreme and sole power in himself.
The same writers weigh, and reject, a gentler explanation of the pattern.
Because no son succeeded his father, some think the Edomite monarchy was elective. But this supposes that the people had enough power to choose their own ruler. That is a democratic principle, and we have no ground to suppose it existed in those early days. Violence and lust of power were there, and they bore fruit.
Genesis opens the list by noting that these kings reigned before Israel had any king. Commentators say the timing is the whole point.
Edom had kings before Israel had any; that is all that is said. Edom was a settled nation under regular rule before God's people Israel were. In the chapter before, kings had been promised from Jacob's line. Yet the natural went first in apparent strength: God's people must wait His time.
Six kings have already come and gone by this verse, and the seventh now takes the throne. Commentators read that speed itself as the lesson.
Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned in Edom before Israel had any. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important element, to mark how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
Read the chapter through and one thing is missing from every line: any mark of God.
His sons are dukes, and before Israel had a king they had kings. Look at the record as it passes: the pride and pomp of dukes and kings, the alliances with God's enemies, the whole of it unmarked by any feature of God. We cannot help recognising the line of the flesh.
The line ends. Israel's promised throne outlasts it, and so does the reckoning with Edom for its hatred of Israel.
God lets the world show itself, and its power — or rather lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains for ever.
- Name. Baal-hanan is the seventh of Edom's early kings, the son of Achbor. His name means "Baal is merciful."
- Break. He reigns in Shaul's place but is not Shaul's son. In this whole list no king is followed by his son. Commentators read that break as the mark of violence and rival factions, not of an elected throne.
- Speed. Edom had settled rule while Israel had none. What is not of God shoots up fast; growth according to God is slower and lasts longer.
- Waiting. The promise of kings belonged to Jacob's line. The natural went first in apparent strength, and God's people had to wait His time.
- End. The world shows its power first, and it does not last. Edom's kings are gone and remembered for judgment; God's King remains for ever.
And Baal-hanan the son of Achbor died; and Hadar reigned in his stead; and the name of his city was Pau; and his wife's name was Mehetabel, the daughter of Matred daughter of Mezahab.
This verse closes the roll of Edom's kings. Hadar is the eighth and last of them. The record names his city and his wife's family, then turns back to chiefs.
Edom's rise did not stop at chiefs.
This was not the height of their development. "These are the kings who reigned in the land of Edom, before any king reigned over the Israelites." No fewer than eight kings are traced one after another, from Bela to Hadar. Yet the record carefully states that we have Esau's chiefs again (verses 40-43).
Hadar's own name appears in another form elsewhere in Scripture, and his wife is traced through two generations of her family — a detail given for no other king in the chapter.
Mother of Mehetabel the wife of Hadad, or Hadar, king of Edom. Genesis 36:39; 1 Chronicles 1:50.
The two spellings are not a contradiction, and the reason lies in how such rulers were addressed.
Apparently "Hadad" was a title of the kings of Edom rather than a name.
His city, Pau, is named here as well.
City in Edom in which Hadad or Hadar reigned. 1 Chronicles 1:50. Called PAU in Genesis 36:39. Not identified.
Read the whole list and one thing stands out: each king comes from a different family and a different city. Nobody inherits.
The kings of Edom are listed next (verses 43-54; compare Genesis 36:31-42). Violence marks this whole race, for not one of these kings has his son as his successor.
The pattern also explains why kings give way to chiefs again straight after this verse.
Violence seems to have marked them, for no king was followed by his son. As one faction won out over another, different kings arose from different cities. In the end, it seems, kingly power was cut back, and chiefs took the place of kings. We still see that kind of change in the form of authority today. It points to a mark — we might call it a flaw — in human power: it never holds steady. Man is unable to keep supreme and sole power in himself.
Verse 31 opened this list by comparing Edom with Israel.
Edom had kings before Israel had any; that is all that is said. That Edom had them when Israel had had none is the point meant to be recorded. It was a settled nation, regularly ruled, before God's people Israel were. In the chapter before, kings had been promised to come from the loins of Jacob. Yet the natural went first in apparent strength: God's people must wait His time.
Why does a page of foreign royal names sit in the middle of Jacob's story?
We see at once what remarkable maturity there was here. It is always so — first what is natural, afterwards what is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in Esau's family. They were all great people, to be sure — this chief and that chief, right to the end of the chapter — even kings, we are told, reigned before there were any in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important mark of how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but it is more lasting.
What does God make of all this activity?
The long list of names is therefore meant to impress on us that God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it to be only vanity.
Hadar is the last king named here, and after him the record of Edom's monarchy simply stops.
What we do see in Esau's descendants, and what has marked the world, is rival factions contending for power, where of course the strongest arm wins. God lets the world show itself and its power — or rather its lack of power — first. Then come His purpose and its firm foundation. For there were kings in Edom before any were found in Israel. The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains forever.
- Named. Verse 39 names Hadar, the eighth and last of Edom's kings, with his city Pau and his wife Mehetabel. After him the chapter returns to chiefs.
- Titled. "Hadad" seems to be a title of Edom's kings, not a personal name. That is why 1 Chronicles 1:50 spells it differently.
- Seized. No king was followed by his son. Rival cities and families took the crown by force, one from the other.
- Shrank. Edom's kings gave way to chiefs again. That is the flaw in all human authority: man cannot keep supreme power in his own hands.
- Remains. What is natural goes first in apparent strength, and God's people wait His time. Edom's kings are gone; God's King remains forever.
And these are the names of the chiefs of Esau, according to their families, after their places, with their names chief Timna, chief Alvah, chief Jetheth,
Genesis 36:40 begins the last roll-call of Esau's line: chiefs named one by one, with their clans and their dwelling places. Why does God give so much space to the greatness of Esau's family?
Older translations call these men "dukes." A Bible dictionary gives the sense of the title:
This title appears often in the early genealogies. It means the head of a family or of a tribe, and that family or tribe took his name.
William Kelly puts the title into everyday terms and compares Edom's early standing with Israel's:
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In modern language these would probably answer to the sheiks of their tribes. Then later come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the sons of Israel... They had dukes and even kings flourishing among them while the children of Israel as a whole were obscure and unsettled.
The chapter reaches kings, and then verse 40 returns to chiefs. Kelly notes how deliberate that order is:
Nor was this the peak of their development. The chapter records the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the children of Israel. Scripture traces no fewer than eight of them in succession, from Bela to Hadar. Yet it then says with care that we have Esau's dukes again (verses 40-43). The song of Moses speaks of dukes too (Exodus 15:15), but the later history speaks of "the king."
Isaac had given Esau a blessing of his own. This chapter shows it coming true:
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so that his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He occupied his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied, became chiefs, and were notorious. They not only became "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always taken precedence over the children of God.
Kelly reads the crowded list of titles as a mark of speed:
Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, right to the end of the chapter. Kings too, we are told, reigned before there were any such in Israel. I have no doubt this is given to us to mark an important point: what is not of God shoots up fast. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The contrast is not only ancient history. Writing on a later clash between the two families, F. B. Hole draws it forward:
The children of Esau had "dukes" in plenty, giving us an early example of what we find so often in Scripture and in our own experience, that the man who loves the world and ignores God goes ahead in the world beyond the man who fears God.
L. M. Grant gives the reason for so long a list:
Esau's family illustrates the common history of the flesh always exalting itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress one thing on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all its activities, and finds it only vanity.
Another writer scanning the same parade of titles points to what is missing from it:
It all passes in review: the pride and pomp of dukes and kings, the alliances with God's enemies, the whole of it without one mark of God on it. We cannot but recognise the line of the flesh.
Verse 40 gives each chief a dwelling place of his own. Kelly follows Edom's mountain homes to the end of their story:
But they sought great things and hated the dignity of Israel... Being despised is above all the doom of those who reach beyond their measure. A man or a people content with the place given them does not meet that end... We see pride in Esau from the first, and we see it in the Edomites to the last... "The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rock." Their position looked impossible to attack, yet it would prove no protection when God called in the instruments to pull them down from their proud heights.
- Titles. A chief, or "duke," was the head of a family or tribe, with the tribe carrying his name — Esau's line filled the land with them.
- Speed. What is not of God shoots up quickly; growth according to God is slower, and lasts.
- Precedence. Isaac's blessing on Esau came true in earthly terms. In earthly greatness the children of this world have always gone ahead of the children of God.
- Record. God keeps the whole list. He takes full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
- End. Pride marked Esau at the start and Edom at the last. Their high rock homes gave no shelter when God brought them down.
chief Oholibamah, chief Elah, chief Pinon,
Genesis 36 lists Esau's chiefs a second time, after the chapter has already named Edom's kings. Why does Scripture record the honours of Esau's line at all — and why here, just before the story of Joseph?
One writer sees a lesson in where this chapter sits.
But there is another genealogy (Genesis 36), and it is strikingly introduced in this place. The Edomite interrupts the course of the line of God's dealings. It is always so — first that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual. Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. I have no doubt this is given to us as an important element to mark how rapidly what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
Older Bibles call these men "dukes." One writer explains what the title meant.
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In modern language these would probably answer to the sheiks of their tribes. Later come the kings that reigned in the land of Edom before there reigned any king over the sons of Israel.
Esau's rise also settled something his father had spoken over him long before.
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He occupied his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied and became chiefs of note. They became not only "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power, the children of this world have always come first, ahead of the children of God.
The kings come first in the chapter, and then the chiefs return.
Nor was this the height of their development. Scripture traces no fewer than eight kings in succession, from Bela to Hadar. Yet it carefully notes that we then have Esau's dukes again (verses 40-43).
Another writer looks at why the kings gave way to chiefs again.
Violence seems to have marked them, for no king was followed by his own son. As one faction prevailed over another, different kings arose from different cities. Then, as it would appear, their kingly authority shrank, and dukes took their place. This change in the form of authority is not unknown in our own day. It shows a characteristic element — we might say flaw — in human power: its instability. Man is unable to keep supreme and sole power in himself.
These chiefs held land in Mount Seir. Long afterwards, that land became a test for Israel.
There was no doubt whatever that Esau had behaved badly. The children of Israel were not likely to forget it… But no, God would not have them meddle. "I will not give you of their land." The Lord was most careful exactly where He had least sympathy. The fact of Esau's pride and contempt of Israel gave them no licence to take their land. "I have given Mount Seir to Esau for a possession." God always holds to His own principles, and He teaches us to respect them in others.
These names also matter for the rest of the Bible.
The chapter also shows clearly that Esau, Edom and Mount Seir go together. That matters when we meet these names later in Scripture. Otherwise the many names here may tell us little.
There is a reason the account moves on so quickly.
The Holy Spirit does not dwell on the grandeur and might of those who rose to power when Israel lost the inheritance… Instead He passes on to the birth of the true King. Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness soon gone, and they are briefly dismissed. "These are the generations of Esau."
Yet Edom is not forgotten.
The Edomite kings are gone, but God's King remains forever. Edom gets this special mention because of their great hatred of Israel. They were among the most relentless of all the nations around them (Numbers 20:14-21). That hatred showed itself long years afterwards, when the Edomite rejoiced at the overthrow of Jerusalem by the Babylonians (Psalm 137). For this very reason they are remembered for judgment (Obadiah 10).
- First, fast: what is not of God shoots up quickly. Edom had chiefs and kings before Israel had any.
- Granted, not grabbed: God gave Mount Seir to Esau. Israel had to respect that gift and leave it alone.
- Down, not up: kings give way to chiefs again in these closing verses — human power cannot hold itself steady.
- Named, then nothing: we learn only that this chief and that king once lived. Their greatness was short-lived, and Scripture moves on to the true King.
- Remembered, for judgment: Edom's hatred of Israel is why this family is named here. The titles fade; the reckoning does not.
chief Kenaz, chief Teman, chief Mibzar,
Genesis 36 ends with a roll-call of the chiefs who came from Esau, and verse 42 gives three of them — Kenaz, Teman and Mibzar. Why does the story of Abraham's family stop to record the ranks and lands of Edom?
The chapter sits between Jacob's wanderings and the story of Joseph. One family is settled and titled. The other is still homeless.
The apostate world establishes itself in power. Meanwhile the heirs of promise are still poor pilgrims on the earth.
The older translations call these men dukes. William Kelly compares both titles to ranks still used among desert tribes.
Genesis 36 gives us the rise and progress of their national greatness. First comes the line of their dukes, as they are called. In today's language these would match the sheiks of their tribes. Then come the kings who reigned in the land of Edom, before any king reigned over the sons of Israel. These kings we should probably call emirs. That is, they were not kings in the full sense, but chiefs for shared purposes. Among these sons of Edom there was a great deal of independence.
Teman is not new here. His name appears earlier in the chapter, and it travels far beyond it.
Son of Eliphaz, a son of Esau, and a duke of Edom; also his descendants and the district they lived in. It is four times connected with Edom, and twice with Dedan: this links it with the south. Its wisdom is spoken of, and God's judgements are pronounced on it. One of Job's friends was Eliphaz the Temanite. Genesis 36:11, 15, 34, 42; 1 Chronicles 1:36, 45, 53; Job 2:11; Jeremiah 49:7, 20; Ezekiel 25:13; Amos 1:12; Obadiah 9; Habakkuk 3:3.
Kelly sets the two families side by side at the same moment in history.
"Duke Teman, duke Omar, duke Kenaz" (Genesis 36) and their successors flourished in the land of Edom. Meanwhile the sons of Israel were strangers in a land that was not theirs, and they soon found it a furnace of affliction in bitter bondage. But so it always is: "it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual." If God's people hope for what they do not see, they must "wait for it with patience." Despite God's promises to them, this was no small test for the sons of Israel. Esau's descendants were long settled as lords of their own soil. Meanwhile Jacob and his family lived on sufferance in another land, and were soon slaves in Egypt.
The pattern is not confined to Edom.
The children of Esau had "chiefs" in plenty. This gives us an early example of something we find often in Scripture and in our own experience: the man who loves the world and ignores God gets ahead in the world, beyond the man who fears God.
The chapter records nothing that these chiefs did.
Here, in Genesis, we have only a list of names to tell us that this duke and that king once lived. Their power was short-lived, their greatness faded, and they are dismissed in a few words. "These are the generations of Esau." But when the Holy Spirit speaks of the "generations of Jacob," there is one Man before His mind, and ten chapters follow, telling the story that pictures Him.
Read as a whole, the list of titles carries a moral.
Scripture insists that Esau is Edom, that he is the father of the Edomites. His sons are chiefs, and Edom had kings before Israel had a king. The pride and pomp of these chiefs and kings passes before us. We see their alliances with God's enemies, and nothing in the whole scene marked by any feature of God. We can only recognise the line of the flesh.
- Names. Kenaz, Teman and Mibzar are chiefs of Edom. Teman was a son of Eliphaz, and his district reappears across the prophets and gives Job's friend his title.
- Rank. "Duke" here means a tribal chief, close to a sheik. Edom's "kings" were chiefs too, not absolute monarchs.
- Timing. These men held land and rank while Israel were still strangers and slaves. The natural comes first, the spiritual afterwards.
- Brevity. Scripture gives their names and nothing more. Their power was short-lived and their greatness faded.
- Meaning. A list of titles with no feature of God pictures the line of the flesh. So the heirs of promise must wait with patience.
chief Magdiel, chief Iram. These are the chiefs of Edom, according to their dwelling-places in the land of their possession. This is Esau, the father of Edom.
Esau's family record closes with a final list of chiefs, each named by the place his people settled, and with Esau named as the father of a nation. Why does the Bible give a whole chapter to the line God passed over?
One writer marks where Esau's record starts and stops, and why it stands before Jacob's.
The section called "The generations of Esau" begins at the first verse of Genesis 36 and runs to the first verse of Genesis 37. As with Ishmael and Isaac, Scripture again puts the rejected line first, keeps it short, and does not follow its dates. The chosen line comes second, and there we get enough dates to follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows a principle of God's ways, stated so clearly: "He does away with the first in order to establish the second" (Hebrews 10:9).
Older translations call these chiefs "dukes." One writer traces Esau's rise back to the blessing his father gave him.
The chapter shows us that Esau prospered in earthly things, so his father's blessing came true for him (27:39-40). He held his own territory and became quite independent of Jacob. His descendants multiplied and became chiefs and men of note. They became not only "dukes" but even "kings," and that before any king appeared in Israel's line. In earthly greatness and power the children of this world have always gone ahead of the children of God.
Another writer sees a lesson in how fast that rise came.
Even then we find a rapid development of power in the family of Esau. They were all great people, to be sure — duke this and duke that, to the end of the chapter. Even kings, we are told, reigned there before Israel had any. I have no doubt this stands as an important sign of how fast what is not of God shoots up. Growth according to God is slower, but then it is more permanent.
The land really was Edom's, and God later told Israel to leave it alone.
They might have wanted the plains of Moab, or Mount Seir, or the lands of Ammon. The Lord forbade them to do so. Disobedience would have been disastrous. Edom had harassed Israel badly and shown an arrogant pride. Even so, the Lord would not give Edom's possession to Israel. He remembered His word, "I have given Mount Seir to Esau as a possession" (Gen. 32:3; 36:6-8; Josh. 24:4). They were therefore not to seek what the Lord had not given them. And this is obedience, and a lesson of faith.
A long list of unfamiliar names can look like wasted space. One writer weighs what the record contains; another, what it lacks.
Esau (Edom) prospers and grows great in material things. His sons become "dukes" (vv. 15-43) before Jacob's family reach such honour, except for Joseph in Egypt. Remember that Joseph did not exalt himself; Pharaoh exalted him. Esau's family shows the ordinary history of the flesh, which always exalts itself. So the long list of names is meant to impress one thing on us. God has taken full account of the flesh and all it does, and finds it only vanity.
The pride and pomp of dukes and kings passes in review, along with the alliances with God's enemies. Nothing in it all carries any mark of God. We cannot help recognising the line of the flesh.
Esau is named here as the father of a nation, and that nation later stood against Israel.
In Genesis 36 we read of the generations of Esau, who is Edom. The record gives a prominent place to the dukes, the national chiefs. Long before Israel had kings, Edom had such rulers: "These are the kings who reigned in the land of Edom, before any king reigned over the Israelites" (Gen. 36:31)… The Israelites promised not to drink the water in Edom's territory or take their fruit without paying for it. Even so, Edom refused them passage, and Israel turned away without a fight. So Edom branded itself the enemy of the people of God.
- First. Scripture puts the passed-over line first and keeps it short — the first makes way for the second.
- Fast. Esau's sons became chiefs and his line produced kings before Israel had either. What is not of God shoots up fast.
- Real. God truly gave Edom this land. Later He told Israel not to take Mount Seir: do not reach for what God has not given you.
- Empty. For all the pomp of chiefs and kings, no mark of God is on the record. God takes full account of the flesh and finds it only vanity.
- Finished. The chapter closes and Esau's line stops. Growth according to God is slower, but it lasts.
And Jacob dwelt in the land where his father sojourned -- in the land of Canaan.
One short sentence closes one part of Genesis and opens another. Jacob settles in the land his father Isaac had only passed through as a stranger. It reads like a full stop on a long, wandering life. Yet commentators read very different things into that quiet word "lived."
This one verse holds everything left of Jacob's own story before Egypt. From this point the narrative belongs to his children.
He was told in chapter 35 to go and live at Bethel. Here it says he "lived in the land of his father's sojournings." But the history now is the history of his sons. His history until he went to Egypt is in this one verse.
The verse says he lived there. But he never owned the land. A sojourner stays in a country that is not his own, and that is all Jacob ever was.
Verse 1 states a truth of deep significance: "Jacob lived in the land of his father's sojournings, in the land of Canaan." It had taken him some years to settle there. Yet even while living there, he was still only a sojourner (Heb. 11:9). He did not remain indefinitely, but later went down to Egypt, where he died.
Trace the places named in his last journeys and you notice what he never acquires in any of them.
Then, in the freedom and strength of all this, our patriarch resumes his journey. He goes from Bethel to Bethlehem. From there he travels by the tower of Edar to Mamre in the south country, where his father Isaac was living. But in none of these places do we read of house or land again. It is the tent, the altar and the pillar, and the journey still going on. Then the burial of his aged father. And at last, one with his fathers, he lives in the land where they had lived before him.
Commentators differ here. One reads the settling as Jacob getting ahead of God's plan. God then corrected him through circumstances.
The first verse has told us that he lived in the land where his father had been a stranger. In this he was moving ahead of God's purpose. So God soon allowed circumstances to move him and his sons into Egypt. In that way everything happened that God had foretold to Abraham in Genesis 15:13-14.
Another weighs the Hebrew word itself and refuses to read blame into it. He still notes that God would not let the rest last.
Jacob's dwelling in the land where his father was a stranger is not, I think, a contrast in evil. Scripture uses the same word yashav (to dwell) of Abraham and Lot together in Canaan, and of Lot in Sodom. He was no longer a wanderer outside the land, but someone living in it. Still, he was more settled than Abraham was — only, when he did settle, God stirred him up out of his rest.
The verse also finishes a section. Genesis 36 has just spent a whole chapter on the line God did not choose, and this arrangement repeats a pattern.
The section called "The generations of Esau" begins at Genesis 36:1 and runs to Genesis 37:1. As with Ishmael and Isaac, Scripture mentions the rejected line first, but only briefly, and does not follow its dates. The chosen line comes second, and then enough dates are given to let us follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows a principle of God's ways, stated so clearly: "He takes away the first, that He may establish the second" (Heb. 10:9).
Put the two portions side by side. Their difference in length is the message.
The next chapter follows with a long list of Esau's generations, ripening early into dukes and kings. The world must have its day… In chapter 37 a single verse sets Jacob's portion against all this. Its very shortness speaks volumes to the ear that hears.
Being in the right place did not mean an easy life ahead. God's dealings with Jacob were not finished.
The next mention of Jacob is in Genesis 37. There we read that he "lived in the land of his father's sojournings." This was his proper position, the one faith had called him to. Still, after a pause, the discipline goes on. He had to be weaned from depending on anything at all. Though Rachel is gone, her two sons remain, and through them Jacob undergoes a continued crucifixion of his affections.
- Settled. After years of wandering, Jacob at last lives in Canaan — the land his father had only travelled through as a stranger.
- Sojourned. He owned nothing there — no house, no land, only tent, altar and pillar. In the end he went down to Egypt and died there.
- Stirred. Commentators differ on what the settling meant. Was it a step ahead of God's purpose, or the end of his wandering? They agree on one thing: when he settled, God moved him on.
- Silent. All of Jacob's remaining history before Egypt fits into this one verse; from here the story belongs to his sons.
- Second. Esau's line gets a whole chapter of dukes and kings. Jacob's gets one line. God takes away the first to establish the second.