Genesis

GOD has many ways of making permanent in our lives the lessons of His providence and grace, and one of these is the discipline of sorrow. "Sweet are the uses of adversity," as we are now to see in the unfolding of the story of Jacob. There is nothing in its way more striking than the fact that from the time Jacob fulfilled his vow in Bethel to the day that he learnt of Joseph’s preservation in Egypt he was scarcely ever out of "the furnace of affliction." Some of the earliest of these experiences will now come before us.

No sooner had Jacob reached Bethel than Deborah, the aged nurse of his mother Rebekah, died. First referred to in connection with Rebekah’s coming to be the wife of Isaac (Gen 24:59), she is here mentioned again very many years after. How, why, and when she became associated with Jacob’s household we know not, for there is no record. It is probable that she joined him in Mesopotamia on the death of his mother. She was a very interesting link with the past, recalling his mother and his own earliest days in the old home. What many a man owes to a faithful servant! How fine are the obituary notices from time to time of "So-and-so, for many years the faithful servant and friend of "! Now the link is broken, and Jacob has one connection less with the days of his youth. As time goes on, and friend after friend passes upward, we find ourselves more and more severed from the past and more and more united with the future. It is in such ways that we are led to think of the future, and to fix our hope on things to come. "But Deborah died." That is, notwithstanding the fact that Jacob was now at Bethel and in fellowship with God. Faithfulness to God does not exempt us from sorrow.

Residence at Bethel (Gen 35:1) was, it would seem, completed with the fulfilment of his vow, and Jacob was apparently free to move southward towards Mamre, the home of his father. He and his household had not gone very far when another great sorrow came upon him, the deepest of his life. He lost his beloved wife Rachel, who died in giving birth to her second son. In her pain and anguish she was cheered by the encouraging news of the birth of another son, but the end of her earthly life was at hand. Just as she was dying she called the newly-born child Benoni ("son of my pain"), in token of the gain of a son even through sorrow. But her husband, to cheer her and himself to the end, would not allow so ill-omened a name to remain, and changed it to Benjamin ("son of the right hand"), indicative of his faith in the blessing and prosperity that should accrue from his birth. Thus we have the first record of death at child-birth, and the entire narrative is full of simple pathos and exquisite beauty. Rachel’s life had had its share of sorrow, and the end itself was in no way different. Robbed at the outset of the entire love of one whose wife she was expecting to be, she found herself the victim of jealousy in that unhappy home at Haran. Nor did she seem to have, at any rate until late in life, the full consolation of the worship of the true God, for she was given to superstition (Gen 30:14), and the worship of false gods (Gen 31:19). It is probable that these influences were not wholly extirpated until the removal to Bethel (Gen 35:2; Gen 35:4). She had hoped for another son in addition to Joseph (Gen 30:24), but her unwise and passionate prayer of years ago (Gen 30:1) now received a very unexpected answer. She had indeed a son given to her, and died at the time of the gift.

Once again Jacob set up a pillar, this time in memory of his love and sorrow (Gen 35:20), just as he had at Bethel in memory of the Divine love and grace to him (Gen 35:14). His love for Rachel was remarkable in its depth and constancy. Even long years after her death the memory was keen and poignant (Gen 48:7). It is one of the most striking features of Jacob’s character that he could love so devotedly and tenaciously. Such a strong nature as this was capable of great things, whatever sins and errors were on the surface.

From the sad scene of his great bereavement Israel journeyed on towards Mamre. The word "Israel" is noteworthy here. It is the first occurrence of the new name as applied to Jacob after the confirmation of it at Bethel. Like the usage in Genesis of Jehovah and Elohim, which are invariably employed with discrimination, the terms Israel and Jacob are always to be carefully observed, for not seldom it is possible to see a real meaning in the particular one used. Here it seems to suggest that he journeyed in the strength of that power with God which was his heritage as the Prince of God, and by means of which he faced and bore his sorrow. He spread his tent between Bethlehem and Mamre, "beyond the tower of Edar," the tower being one of those frequently found as at once the center and safeguard of flocks and herds (2Ki 17:9).

Another and terrible sorrow now falls on the patriarch in the awful sin of his eldest son Reuben. By this fearful sin (Lev 18:8; 1Co 5:1) he lost the birthright (Gen. xlix. 4) and incurred endless shame and infamy. Thus by a curious coincidence, and perhaps with some inner meaning, the record of the birth of Jacob’s youngest son is brought into close association with the sin of the eldest son. In the light of the subsequent history of the tribes of Benjamin and Reuben we can see here another illustration of the great principle that "the last shall be first and the first last." Rachel’s sons come to the front in due course. At first she, the beloved and rightful wife, was without children (Gen 30:1), and every advantage seemed to be with Leah, who had been deceitfully pressed upon Jacob. But at length Rachel’s turn came, and not only did she have two sons, but these sons came to their own in God’s good time. Joseph in his two sons, and Benjamin also, had tribal territories allotted to them, and Ephraim was leader of Israel for centuries, while Reuben lost the birthright which would have been his as firstborn son. No one can seriously question the fact of a Divine Providence in human life, a Providence that sees justice done and wrongs righted, even though the progress may be slow and the time long.

We can easily imagine the anguish and shame that filled the patriarch’s heart as he became aware of this sin of Reuben. Coming so soon after his great sorrow, it must have caused tenfold grief to a heart already wrung with pain. And yet the record simply but significantly states, "and Israel heard it." Mark the phraseology: "Israel," not "Jacob." That is to say, he heard the terrible news in the quiet strength of the new name and power implied and guaranteed by his recent revelation from God (Gen 35:10). This is the only real way to meet sorrow, pain and shame-"in the strength of the Lord God." Whatever the emergency, we may rest on the Divine assurance: "My grace is sufficient for thee."

How veracious is the record of Scripture! No mere human history would record the sins of notable men so fully and unflinchingly. The candor of the Bible is one of its chief claims to be Divine.

At this point we are given a full list of Jacob’s children, though the names do not appear in order of birth, but according to motherhood. The children of Leah and Rachel come first, and then those of Bilhah and Zilpah. The reason for the insertion of this list here is probably because the long section of the "generations of Isaac" (Gen 25:19) closes with this chapter, and new sections are about to open with the generations of Esau and Jacob (Gen 36:1 and Gen 37:2). The house of Isaac is therefore regarded as complete, and the subordinate position of Jacob will henceforth be changed for that of the head of the patriarchal house and line. In this connection, as we see again and again in the history, it is worth while to observe the remarkable differences between the sons of Leah and those of Rachel. They appear to be absolutely opposed in temperament and habit. Two sisters, and yet such astonishingly different children. Students of heredity will find here material worthy of their attention.

Jacob arrives home again at last. "Jacob came unto Isaac his father unto Mamre...which is Hebron, where Abraham and Isaac sojourned." What memories must have been called up by that return! How he must have missed his mother as he remembered the past and all their life together there! His children, too, would be keenly interested in meeting their grandfather and the head of the family. There are few places that stir the heart more deeply than the old home of our childhood, and all the dear memories of days long gone by. Isaac, too, must have recalled the day, over thirty years before, when he spoke of himself as old and uncertain of life (Gen 27:2), and then thought of all that had happened as the result of that unhappy suggestion to Esau. But all was swallowed up in the joy of reunion, and, as we cannot doubt, in the joy of the recital of the way in which God had led both father and son all those long years of separation.

In order that the record of Isaac’s life may be rounded off mention is made at this point of his death, though as a matter of fact he lived until Joseph was quite thirty years old, or thirteen years after his sale in Egypt. The statement is put in here, after the analogy of earlier accounts (Gen 11:32 and Gen 15:8), to prepare the way for dealing solely with the record of Jacob as the head of the family. Isaac was spared for over forty years beyond the time when he expected to die (Gen 27:1-2), and the years after Jacob’s return must have been a very precious time of fellowship with God and his son as he waited the call of God. The description of his death is noteworthy: "he gave up the ghost," he yielded up the spirit to God Who gave it. The phrase used of Rachel (Gen 35:18) is worth comparing: "as her soul was in departing." The difference is suggestive of their different ages and the circumstances of their deaths, but the idea is essentially the same. To "depart" or to "give up the ghost" is not to be annihilated, but to enter upon a new state, a new life in the presence of God. The old fathers did indeed look for more than transitory promises. They had respect unto the living God, and to the city which He had prepared for them. Isaac was also "gathered to his people," which gives another beautiful suggestion of the life to come-that of reunion with those whom we have loved and lost awhile. And so, with the spirit at rest with God and at home with our loved ones, we learn something of what heaven is. "With Christ" and "with them," all must and will be well.

At the grave of their father the two brothers, Esau and Jacob, met again. With what thoughts they must have paid the last tribute of filial love and borne their father’s body to its resting place! Already reconciled (Gen 33:1-4), this sorrow must have confirmed their friendship and made their hearts increasingly tender to each other as they recalled the past with sins and errors on both sides. Death is a wonderful healer of breaches. Happy are they who find over the grave of a loved father or mother the opportunity of reuniting severed ties. Thrice happy are they who at the graveside of a loved one have not to reunite ties, but only to deepen and confirm them in the love and grace of God.

The life of Isaac, as we review it, is in striking contrast to those of his father and his sons. In their case we have lives full of incident; in his little but quietness and peace. Except for two occasions of sin (Ge 26 and Ge 27), there is nothing in the record to disturb the impression that Isaac’s life was of the pastoral, quiet, restful, contemplative type which based itself on the promises of God (Gen 26:24) and lived peacefully, waiting the development and progress of the Divine purpose. One word, used twice by Jacob, seems to give the clue to Isaac’s character. Jacob speaks of God as "the Fear of Isaac" (Gen 31:42; Gen 31:53), a striking term, especially when contrasted with the customary usage, "the God of Abraham." Isaac’s nature was contemplative, quiet, reverential, full of awe. God was his "Fear," not slavish dread, but filial awe. And it was this that impressed Jacob, whose nature at its root was so like that of his father. Jacob had a profound sense of reverence for God and divine things, and it is well that he had, for with him and with us all "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." "Holy and reverend is His Name."

The cloud of sorrow hangs heavily on these verses. There are three graves and one sin recorded, and it is in connection with the sorrow caused by these events that Jacob was taught some very precious lessons. Shall we not try to learn them for ourselves?

1. Sorrow is not always sent as punishment.

We often bring sorrow on ourselves through our sin, but this is not always and necessarily the case. The death of Deborah came when Jacob had put himself right with God. The death of Rachel and the sin of Reuben do not appear to be traceable to any wrong-doing of Jacob. So is it today. Sorrow is not necessarily punishment. It may be just the opposite. It all depends on the state of our spiritual life how we understand and take sorrow. If we are right with God, we shall meet sorrow as "Israel," not "Jacob," and find in it the message God intends for us. Every affliction may be viewed in two aspects; and what from one viewpoint may he thought a Benoni, may from another be seen as a Benjamin. It all depends on our faith; and if that be real and true, then "Faith can sing through days of sorrow." We shall certainly "faint" if we do not "believe to see the goodness of the Lord" in the time of sorrow and pain.

2. Sorrow is often used for spiritual training.

Chastening is very different from punishing, and "it is for chastening ye endure" (Heb 12:7) There is a very clear connection spiritually, as well as etymologically, between discipleship and discipline. We only become real disciples through discipline. The word rendered "chastening" in Hebrew 12 is literally "son-making." God makes us truly His sons by subjecting us, or allowing us to be subjected, to training and discipline; and it is for this reason that we read "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." When Archbishop Tait, as Dean of Carlisle, lost several children in quick succession, in the short space of a few weeks, his friend Francis Close, then at Cheltenham, wrote quoting this text to the bereaved and heartbroken father, adding, "He must love you much to chasten you so much."

3. Sorrow is intended to yield the peaceful fruits of righteousness.

Who shall say how much this discipline had to do with Tait’s noteworthy episcopate in London and his splendid service as Archbishop of Canterbury? Many a Christian can say with David, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn" (Psa 119:71). "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now…(Psa 119:67). In the description of the life of the believer in Rom. v. we must not overlook the place given to "tribulation." May it not mean that one of the ways which God takes to make our experiences real is the way of suffering? As the Son of God was made "perfect through suffering," so the sons of God are brought to glory in the same way. Just as the pattern on the china vase is made permanent by being put into the fire, so the impressions of God’s truth and grace become part of our character by our being passed through the furnace of affliction.

And so, though our outward man perishes, our inward man is renewed day by day. Let us therefore yield ourselves to the Divine Potter, to be made into "vessels unto honor" and conformed to His image and likeness in order to live to His glory.