Original Meaning

Isaac and Abimelech (26:1–35)

COVENANT. Despite the critical assessment of the last century that sees this account simply as one of the variant reports on a single wife-sister incident, verse 1 is clear that this is a different, though admittedly similar episode. As Abraham insisted that Isaac stay in the land in 24:6, the Lord also instructs him to stay in the land. That leads to a reiteration of the covenant promises, with two variations that have been noted in the prior contexts but should again be noted. (1) Verse 4 uses the Hithpael verb form (NIV “will be blessed”).6 In our previous discussion we concluded that the use of the Hithpael in this context suggests that the nations are going to seek the protection and favor of Abram’s seed, as they indeed do here (26:26–31).

(2) Note the variations in the inclusion of the obedience clause (v. 5), which first occurred in 22:18. The language here is much more specific than the simple reference to obedience in chapter 22. Particularly curious is the use of terminology that is elsewhere in the Old Testament often associated with the law given at Sinai (miṣwot, ḥuqqot, and especially, toroth; respectively in NIV, “commands,” “decrees,” and “laws”).

“Commands” (miṣwot) is the most general term of the three; it concerns demands that incur obligation. “Decrees” (ḥuqqot) usually concerns regulations. Whether a king is regulating his people or God is regulating something as extensive as the cosmos or as technical as cultic procedures, the idea is issuing directives that will bring order and set boundaries and limits.7

“Laws” (toroth) is the plural form of the word that is used for the entire Mosaic legislation and for the Pentateuch, Torah. Etymologically it refers to instruction (cf. Prov. 3:1); theologically, it can be understood to develop the meaning we attach to the technical concept of “revelation” (cf. the words of the prophets in Jer. 26:4–5). P. Enns concludes that the term “refers to an authority and standard that was recognized by the community as binding and at least generally of divine origin.”8 This is close to the definition of “canon.”

But this is the sense that is most easily attached to the singular form of this word, functioning as an abstraction. Note that Genesis 26:5 contains one of only twelve occurrences of the word in the plural.9 Most of these occur in a general context in sequence with a number of other legal terms (as here). When that is not the case, the plural is used to refer to specific instructions for a particular situation (e.g., for collecting manna, Ex. 16:28). There is no reason to think that the plural form is appropriate only to the Mosaic law.

What are the obligations, regulations, and instructions that the patriarchs live by? An example of “command/obligation” is when Lot was told to flee Sodom or when Abraham was told to sacrifice Isaac. An example of “decree/regulation” is the ordinance of circumcision. An example of “law/instruction” is that circumcision should be done on the eighth day.

Wife-sister. We have already discussed the wife-sister motif (see Gen. 12) and Abimelech and the Philistines of Gerar (see Gen. 20). The differences between those passages and this one is in how the scene unfolds. Isaac’s rationale for the ruse is the same as Abraham’s (26:7), but Rebekah is not actually taken by the ruler as Sarah had been on both occasions. Discovery of the ruse does not come through divine revelation (20:3) or because of plagues (12:17), but through a chance glimpse of Isaac’s intimate interaction with Rebekah.

We can note, therefore, a decreasing danger in the accounts. Pharaoh actually took Sarah as his wife (12:19), which probably implies that he had relations with her. Abimelech sent for Sarah but did not have relations with her (20:6). In the case of Rebekah, Abimelech never even sent for her. In 12:17 the Lord touched the pharaoh and his household (NIV “inflicted”); in 20:6, the Lord did not allow Abimelech to touch Sarah; and in 26:11 Abimelech prohibits anyone from touching (NIV “molest”) Isaac or Rebekah. Finally, as to the result of the incident, Pharaoh sends Abraham away (12:20); Abimelech gives gifts and freedom in the land to Abraham (20:14–15); and Abimelech gives protection to Isaac (26:11).

Wells. We have previously discussed the importance of wells and the significance of the mention of wells in Genesis (see Gen. 21, p. 502). Here, in addition to those points, the wells are named Esek, Sitnah, and Rehoboth. Esek is derived from a root that only occurs in this verse. Its meaning (“dispute”) is confirmed from comparative Semitics. Sitna comes from the same root that gives us the noun “Satan.” In the noun form represented in 26:21 it only occurs one other time (Ezra 4:6), where it refers to a formal written complaint. Rehoboth has already been used in Genesis in reference to the city square (Gen. 19:2) and generally refers to streets or plazas in a city—but that has little meaning here. Semantically closer, perhaps, is the occurrence in 13:17, where the same root describes the breadth of the land.

After the protagonists are sufficiently spread out across the land, the conflict is resolved and they eventually ally themselves together by oath. Perhaps most important to the author, the men of Gerar recognize God’s blessing on Isaac and, as the covenant has suggested, they seek to join themselves to him.

Bridging Contexts

THIRD-GENERATION OBSTACLES. No sooner is the narrative opened than we again encounter obstacles to the blessings of the covenant. “Barrenness runs in the family” is only an oxymoron when God is not at work. In the face of Sarah’s barrenness, Abraham was portrayed as patient in faith. Isaac is portrayed as interceding on behalf of Rebekah’s infertility. This is not to suggest that Abraham did not pray for Sarah or that Isaac was somehow less patient. These elements receive their emphasis as the narrator follows his path.

It is intriguing to note that when Abraham’s story begins he is seventy-five years old, and he is one hundred when Isaac is born. That means that the barrenness obstacle takes twenty-five years to be resolved. In comparison, Isaac is forty years old when he marries Rebekah and sixty when the twins are born—a twenty-year wait. But though the length of time is not much different, in the text Sarah’s barrenness takes nine chapters to resolve while Rebekah’s takes one verse. One can almost read 25:21 as a ditto mark: Read in all the anxiety, concern, and uncertainty of Sarah’s barrenness.

Both we and the Israelite audience already know that Jacob is going to emerge as the covenant heir, steward of the patriarchal blessings, but we cannot afford to allow our knowledge to leap ahead of the narrative. Without prior information about how the story ends, chapters 25 and 27 would naturally be seen as Esau stories. After all, he is the firstborn and the expected heir. His actions drive the narratives while Jacob is seen simply reacting to the circumstances. While it is true that the norm in Genesis is for younger sons to thrive and prevail, in most cases the book shows how the elder son is disqualified or disqualifies himself from his privileged status. As the obstacles arise in the Isaac tol^edot, they deal with both Esau and Jacob and they concern conflict and character.

Conflict. As mentioned above, this narrative is not about good or bad parenting. The parenting foibles only help to highlight the conflict that serves as one of the main obstacles to the covenant that must be overcome. By the end of chapter 27 the conflict has become so intense that the family may not survive. How will God fulfill the promise that Abraham will become a great nation if his grandsons exterminate one another? How can this family be a blessing to the nations when they are so immersed in their internecine rivalry? These chapters do not resolve the conflict; they only describe it. The resolution of this jeopardy will be accomplished in pages to come.

Character. The intention of the passage is not to warn readers against despising those benefits they are born with (as Esau did) or to admonish against exploiting someone’s needs to our own advantage (as Jacob did), though undoubtedly those lessons would be constructive. We should first of all understand the episode with regard to the role that the character of the protagonists plays in the unfolding drama of the covenant. The narrator uses the episodes of both chapters 25 and 27 to demonstrate the reasons for the escalating tensions between the two brothers and to illustrate the character flaws in each.

Jacob’s character flaws are considered just as much a threat to the covenant as the antagonism that threatens his very survival. When Isaac lay on the altar and his life dangled by a thin thread, the covenant was in no less jeopardy than when Jacob pushes Esau to the extremity in which he plots Jacob’s murder. The absence of character in both Esau and Jacob stands as an obstacle that is every bit as insurmountable as the conflict that pits them against one another.

But why does the text make the point that Esau despised his birthright? The inheritance distribution is not directly associated with the covenant, and we never hear of Jacob actually receiving the double share of the inheritance or doing anything with it. In fact, when he returns to Canaan and meets with Esau (Gen. 32–33), it can easily be inferred that he renounces his claims to the birthright insofar as he expresses to Esau that he is content with the blessings and prosperity that the Lord has given him and has no intention of taking anything that is Esau’s. In Genesis 13 it was important to see that Lot left the land of his own choice in order to clarify Abraham’s claims. There is nothing in the birthright, however, that gives Esau claims in the land that the text insists belong to Jacob.12

We must conclude, then, that the purpose of the narrative is not to establish a claim that is lost or gained by the parties involved. Instead, it provides an explanation for why Jacob is more suitable as the covenant heir. Esau is shown to be a utilitarian type of person. Genesis 25 ends with a striking sequence of five straight verbs: ate, drank, got up, left, despised. Perhaps the author is suggesting that it was just as routine for him to despise his birthright as it was to do the others. It is not that Esau trades the covenant blessing away (remember that the birthright relates to material inheritance), but rather he shows his attitude toward heritage. If he so lightly esteems his material birthright, what reason is there to believe that he will value a covenant birthright?

Intrusion of the Isaac story. Above we noted that the only chapter specifically dedicated to Isaac (Gen. 26) is part of the tol^edot that deals with his children. We must therefore explain its presence and function not only within Genesis but also its position within the Jacob-Esau story, located between the two exploitation-of-Esau stories.

Its inclusion in Genesis as a whole is the easier of the two to explain. Even a superficial reading of the chapter reveals the frequent reference back to Abraham and the covenant promises. In the wife-sister incident and the digging of wells and building of altars, Isaac is portrayed as following in the footsteps of his father, Abraham. Isaac is blessed, and the people around him recognize the blessing he enjoys from the Lord and want to share in it. In other words, chapter 26 functions appropriately in the story of the development of the covenant. But if that were all there was to this chapter, it would have made more sense to isolate it under a tol^edot of Abraham as an independent section. Why is this part of the Jacob cycle?

The reiteration of the covenant promises in 26:3–5 concludes on the aspect that was first introduced to the covenant clauses in 22:18, the obedience of Abraham. This emphasis on obedience to God’s commands stands in stark contrast to the questionable conduct of Jacob that ended chapter 25. The narrator thereby places Jacob’s character flaws and Yahweh’s covenant expectations in juxtaposition to one another. This reiteration also reminds us of another birthright. Esau’s despising of the birthright of his material inheritance argues that he would be just as likely to devalue the birthright of covenant promises. The recitation of the covenant also is prefaced by the admonition to stay in the land. Both Jacob and Esau put the land in jeopardy. The former leaves for twenty years but eventually returns, while the latter has settled in the land of Seir (= Edom; 32:3; 33:16).

Thus we can see that the author uses Genesis 26 to put the activities and attitudes of Jacob and Esau into perspective. Right after the initial introduction to their foibles at the end of Genesis 25, the author anticipates some of the confusion, if not revulsion, his audience may be feeling about these two unpalatable characters. His stories about Isaac allow the audience to reflect on the incident just reported as well as to prepare them for the scenes about to unfold, especially in Genesis 27.

When we look at Genesis 26 in this light, we are able to see some of the stories from a different angle. The wife-sister episode is not presented as an obstacle the way that it was in the Abraham narratives of Genesis 12 and 20. Rebekah is never even taken by Abimelech. Here it is a masquerade. Masquerades are going to figure prominently in the coming Jacob narratives as Jacob masquerades as Esau (Gen. 27) and Leah masquerades as Rachel (Gen. 29). At the end of Isaac and Rebekah’s masquerade, Isaac is seen “Isaac-ing” with his wife (26:8; NIV “caressing”); at the end of Jacob’s masquerade, Jacob is seen as one who “Jacobs” (27:36; NIV “deceives”). The true character and identity of both Isaac and Jacob can be seen for what they really are when they begin living out their names.

The other major section of Genesis 26 is a narrative concerning Isaac’s wells. This narrative shows the resolution of conflict (26:28) as the result of the Lord’s blessing. This prefigures what will eventually happen in the Jacob-Esau conflict. Before that happens, however, Isaac suffers the loss of blessing to which he has a right (as Esau does), and he is driven away by the hostility of the people of Gerar (similar to Jacob’s being driven away by Esau). But why name the wells, and why does the author of Genesis make note of it? I suggest that they are the finishing touch to the montage,13 just as the names at the end Genesis 38 serve to bring home the purpose of the montage there. Here the names of the wells anticipate the resolution of the Jacob-Esau conflict. Esek (“dispute”) offers a parallel to the encounter between Jacob and Esau over the stew. Sitnah correlates to the formal complaint lodged by Esau against Jacob in Genesis 27. The final well, Rehoboth, is appropriate to the parting between Jacob and Esau that resolves their conflict. Thus, the names of the wells serve as a nutshell synthesis of the Jacob-Esau cycle.14

This chapter, then, illustrates how God is able to accomplish his plan despite the presence of these various elements. In the midst of masquerades, jealousy, hostility, and conflict, God is able to preserve his covenant and bring blessing. For the reader who is feeling some anxiety about the potential (or lack of it) in Esau and Jacob, Genesis 26 offers some confidence in God’s track record in working out these sorts of things. Just as Genesis 38 is a montage using Judah to show the possibilities for everything to work out satisfactorily for Joseph (see comments on that chapter), Genesis 26 is a montage using Isaac’s story to show the possibility that everything will work out satisfactorily for the covenant in the hands of the likes of Esau and Jacob. God works both despite and through their foibles.

This is the third of four places in Genesis where the author uses the narrative device of intrusion.15 By understanding these as a group, we can appreciate the role of each one individually. These intrusions are digressive in plot but not in theme. As seen on the chart below, the two intrusions in the Abraham cycle function to explore important covenant issues: land, family, and blessing. These anticipate long-term issues and lay important theoretical foundations that prepare the Israelite audience to think about their covenant heritage. In contrast, the intrusions in the Jacob cycle and the Joseph story function to explore the ways in which God works through circumstances to overcome obstacles. These anticipate the audience’s revulsion at the behavior of the protagonists and prepare them for expecting that God will be able to work in the midst of the problems to accomplish his plan.

The brief note about Esau’s marriages that concludes chapter 26 is resumptive from the end of chapter 25. In 25:34 he assigned slight value to the heritage represented in his birthright. Here he likewise attaches no value to the tradition of marrying someone from outside the land and thus does not remain separate from the peoples of the land. In this way the narrator continues to demonstrate that Esau is an unworthy steward of the covenant.

Grand theft. It should be noticed in Genesis 27 how much the plot slows down. The attention to the conversations between the parties, to the investiture of Jacob, and to the questioning of Jacob by Isaac creates a good deal of suspense. Although it undoubtedly makes for a good story, one wonders if it is not counterproductive for the author to spend so much time and effort to document how the ancestor of all Israel stole the family blessing from Esau, the ancestor of the Edomites. This is one of the details of history that would qualify as dirty laundry, and one would think it would be consigned to the back of the closet full of traditions. Certainly no one can accuse the Israelites of whitewashing their heroes.

I believe that the author is giving an example of how God sometimes works behind the scenes. In the Joseph story we will see how God works out his plan for blessing in someone’s life despite the foul schemes perpetrated against him. In Jacob, however, God works out his plan for blessing in someone’s life despite the foul schemes the main character himself is involved in. God does not approve of Jacob’s deception any more than he approved of Joseph’s brothers’ conspiracy. But just as he used the brothers’ conspiracy to accomplish his plan, he uses Jacob’s deception. God’s hand becomes more evident as the author shows each twist and turn to be more unlikely of success than the last.

But lest we harbor a hint of doubt concerning God’s integrity, we must recall that Jacob does not escape unscathed from this incident. He is driven penniless from his home for twenty years and never sees his mother again. This is fitting. Yet even as he suffers appropriate consequences, God mercifully spares him from the consequences that would have come if the scheme had failed. Perhaps the consequences of its succeeding are worse for Jacob as well as more productive in his life. Whatever the reason, I believe that the narrator wants us to see that God is in the details. God’s plan both for Jacob and for Israel later on is going to work out better if the masquerading scheme succeeds.

Contemporary Significance

VALUING HERITAGE. It is particularly painful when a son or daughter shows no concern for the rich heritage and solid upbringing they have received. In the famous parable, though the prodigal son did not fail to appreciate his inheritance, he did reject the value system of his father. Just as Esau is painted as one who did not adopt the value system of his family, many today turn aside from their family’s values and in the process forfeit God’s blessing in missed opportunities.

Some find their way back, hunted by the hound of heaven,16 but it is interesting that the text does not engage in offering counsel concerning how to reclaim the wandering child. It does not offer comfort to the heartsick parent. It does not advise the rebellious child to reconsider his or her ways and return to the fold. The interest of the text in this narrative is not in reconciliation, reclamation, or restoration. Its focus is on the unworthiness of the prodigal, Esau. Although it is true that Jacob does not rely on God and tries to take his destiny into his own hands, God is going to fix that before he entrusts the covenant heritage to him. But when Esau is shown rejecting the values of his heritage, he is set aside and cut off from God’s blessing.

This concept is compellingly illustrated in Daniel DeFoe’s Robinson Crusoe. Against all the advice of his family—indeed, against specific warnings concerning his inordinate desire to wander abroad—young Crusoe embarked on voyage after voyage, in the process hazarding his life and his fortune on numerous occasions. Even in the extremity of shipwreck he did not immediately recognize that he had been thoughtless of God and had been living in disregard of his family and sound judgment. His wanderlust had caused him to turn aside from his family heritage and spiritual values, yet he still resisted reform despite the obvious grace of God in sparing his life.

Even when I was afterwards, on due consideration, made sensible of my condition, how I was cast on this dreadful place, out of the reach of humane kind, out of all hope of relief or prospect of redemption, as soon as I saw but a prospect of living, and that I should not starve and perish for hunger, all the sense of my affliction wore off, and I begun to be very easy, apply’d my self to the works proper for my preservation and supply, and was far enough from being afflicted at my condition, as a judgment from heaven, or as the hand of God against me; there were thoughts which very seldom entered into my head.17

Only when Crusoe became sick did his thoughts turn to his waywardness, his family, and his God. He regretted the pain he had brought to his family and recognized the hand of God in his life:

I rejected the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture or station of life wherein I might have been happy and easy; but I would neither see it my self, or learn to know the blessing of it from my parents; I left them to mourn over my folly, and now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it; I refused their help and assistance who wou’d have lifted me into the world, and wou’d have made every thing easy to me, and now I have difficulties to struggle with, too great even for nature itself to support, and no assistance, no help, no comfort, no advice. Then I cry’d out, “Lord, be my help, for I am in great distress.”18

In this sense, Crusoe’s story takes a turn that Esau’s never took. After this first prayer, he recovered from his illness and also from his resistance to his upbringing and heritage. When he came upon a Bible the next day, he began to read. Several days thereafter he recognized his need for repentance, turned his life over to Christ, and regained the blessing of God in his life.

It was now that I began sensibly to feel how much more happy this life I now led was, with all its miserable circumstances, than the wicked, cursed, abominable life I led all the past part of my days; and now I changed both my sorrows and my joys; my very desires altered, my affections changed their gusts, and my delights were perfectly new from what they were at my first coming, or indeed for the two years past.19

What can we expect from God when we show ourselves unworthy of his blessing by despising the values that comprise our spiritual heritage? When Saul showed similar tendencies, the verdict was clear: “The LORD has torn the kingdom of Israel from you today and has given it to one of your neighbors—to one better than you” (1 Sam. 15:28). God is elsewhere portrayed as one who engineers reconciliation (see 2 Sam. 14:14), but that is a different thing. Reconciliation is always possible, but one can lose privileges and forfeit God’s blessings long before the point of reconciliation ever comes. Even when it does come, one is often left, like Robinson Crusoe, regretting all the wasted years.

Christians who have grown up in difficult family situations may often fantasize about growing up in a loving, nurturing Christian environment. But the Bible and history are replete with examples of those who have grown up in the homes of great spiritual leaders but have found the pathway less than smooth. As early as Eli, Samuel, and David, we discover sons who found their heritage difficult to appropriate. Enough stories are available about prodigal preacher’s kids and missionary’s kids for all to be aware of the problems.

A poignant modern illustration can be found in the story of Franklin Graham, the son of Billy Graham. Many might think that growing up with Billy Graham as a father would be an ideal spiritual environment. Franklin did not find it so. It annoyed him always to be introduced as Billy Graham’s son. Feeling individually worthless, he found ways to express his independence from his famous father. Beginning with smoking and drinking in his middle teen years, his rebellion found like-minded compatriots at the private Christian school he attended and flowered into calloused cynicism that defied the system and the authority that stood behind it. Though he never lost his admiration for his parents, his habits reflected the fact that his parents’ faith was not his faith.

Though he found enough Christians who gave credibility to a life of integrity and faith, during his college years he continued to be turned off by what he viewed as institutional hypocrisy and was unwilling to accept the claim of any authority on his life. Halfway through he was expelled for violations of the rules. Though involved in missions work and even eventually helping his father organize crusades, Franklin stubbornly remained unwilling to accept the claims of Christ on his life. It was not until he was twenty-two, after finally graduating from college, that his resistance broke down. He surrendered to Christ in a hotel room in Jerusalem shortly after the 1974 Lausanne Congress for Evangelism. In 1980 he became the president of a Christian relief organization, Samaritan’s Purse, and his ministry and godly service have had a worldwide impact.20

The happy ending of Franklin Graham’s story attests to the determination of God to reclaim those who wander away. Nevertheless, though God’s time is never wasted, Christians can waste their own years, foregoing the blessing of God, the spiritual growth, and the opportunities for ministry and service when they abandon their heritage. Sometimes even when they return, their ill-advised choices have brought consequences that cannot be easily undone: a criminal record, an unbelieving spouse, financial ruin, health ravaged by self-destructive habits, children who have been so influenced by the previous godless example that their course in life is set. In cases such as these, the blessings of a spiritually productive marriage, good health, or a godly family may be unachievable. Such blessings of God can be permanently forfeited.

Duplicity: true character will emerge. Life is not a fairy tale. Imagine Aladdin in the Tales of 1001 Arabian Nights being exposed as an imposter and, instead of getting the sultan’s daughter anyway, gets thrown into prison to rot. Imagine Pinocchio doomed to keep his donkey ears and liar nose and never to enjoy the sensation of being flesh and blood rather than wood. When someone’s true character emerges from his or her masquerade, rarely are all the effects wiped away by the flash of a wand or the rubbing of a lamp. We live with consequences. In the tragic circumstances, for instance, in which a pastor is exposed as an unfaithful husband, the consequences can be found in devastated families, divided churches, nullified ministries, and ruined lives. Duplicity cannot be forever sustained. A person’s true character will emerge.

The classic depiction of this is found in Shakespeare’s Iago in the play Othello. When Othello appoints Cassio to a position that Iago wants for himself, Iago involves himself in a complex weave of political, professional, and personal situations in order to get revenge on these two who have become his rivals. Like Iago, many of us try to play on both sides of the field. It is easy to patronize our associates, acquaintances, bosses, neighbors, or relatives to their faces but then to slander, belittle, or criticize them to others. It is tempting to play people against one another to our advantage. It is intrinsic behavior to put on a mask of piety and spirituality in church though our professional and family lives easily reveal how thin the mask of godliness is. Such masquerade and duplicity cannot be sustained indefinitely. Like Iago, we will all eventually be seen for what we are.

Obstacle of family conflict. Far too many families in our nation and in our churches are paralyzed by conflict. It may be true that every family has its quirks, but we recognize dysfunctional families as those that have malfunctioned from a sociological standpoint to the extent that its members suffer psychological or even physical damage.

We also have spiritually dysfunctional families. One of the most significant factors contributing to spiritual dysfunctionality is conflict. I am not talking about differences of opinion or disciplinary situations but of personality conflicts that have resulted from perceived or actual faults, shortcomings, injustices, or negligence. Brothers and sisters become estranged; children are disenfranchised or rebel; in-laws find fault and constantly drive wedges between relationships; wives nag, husbands disengage. How can a family grow together spiritually in the climate of such conflict? Only by overcoming it and resolving it. “Impossible!” many would respond. Conflicts run so deep and have existed for so long that they seem beyond any possible resolution. But God is a God who can resolve family conflicts.

Paul Hegstrom’s story may be extreme, but it illustrates the point well. He reports that he began beating his wife within a week of their wedding. Subject to uncontrollable fits of anger, years went by with beatings occurring almost constantly, week in and week out. As children came along, they suffered the same ill-treatment as his wife. Finally, after sixteen years of marriage his wife could bear it no longer and left him. But even the divorce was not enough of a wake-up call. The pattern continued as he went from relationship to relationship. He hit bottom as one situation became so violent that he was threatened with charges of attempted murder.

As his regret and guilt turned to despair, he sought counseling and began to do research on what drives angry abusive men to act the way they do. But more important, he sought out God. In his extremity he asked God to change him and rid him of the anger that had made him abusive and useless to his family and to God, and that is exactly what happened. As his anger came under control and rage melted away, he made contact with his estranged family and began the long, slow process of winning back their trust and love. Eventually his wife was won over by the changes in Paul and their marriage was restored.

His service to God took on a new direction as he began a ministry called “Life Skills Learning Center” to help others caught in the same trap as he had been. His books and seminars now help men who are caught in the cycle of anger, abusiveness, and guilt. His life was the subject of a CBS movie called Unforgivable, and he has appeared as a guest on many talk shows to spread a message of hope for battered and broken families. God healed Paul Hegstrom’s character flaws, resolved his family conflicts, and salvaged him for vital and productive ministry. The God of Jacob is alive and well; there are no family conflicts that he cannot overcome.21

Successful swindlers. The joke is told of the deacon whose property adjoined that of a golf course. One Sunday morning he decided to skip church and take in some golf. He slipped over the fence onto the third fairway and began to play. As in the case of Job, Satan was standing before God and asked what God intended to do to punish the deacon’s dishonesty. “Just wait and see what happens on the fifth hole,” God smiled. The fifth hole was the most difficult on the course and often was responsible for scuttling the hopes for a good game. On this particular Sunday morning, however, the deacon (whose handicap was a barely mediocre 33) drove the ball straight and true. Not only did it find the green, but also it took the curve of the terrain and went right in the cup: a hole-in-one.

Satan was aghast with incredulity. “Why have you rewarded this unconscionable conduct with such remarkable success?”

“It looks like success now,” replied God, “but who is he going to tell?”

Perhaps on occasion when reading Jacob’s story or even when observing people we know, we may be inclined to ask, “How can God allow this conniver to succeed?” From Jacob’s story we can see that God at times allows success in sin because he has a greater lesson to teach someone at a later time. God’s timing is strategic. None of us experiences immediate response from God every time we sin. Rather, at the proper time God brings our sins to our attention or brings the full fruit of consequences into our lives. That inevitably means that sin has the capability of bringing temporary success. God, in his impeccable sovereignty, will bring each sin to light and fruit so as to serve his optimum purposes in our lives and in his plan. He did so to Jacob (Gen. 29–32) and will do so in our lives as well. The success from sin is short-lived.

Original Meaning

Oracle and Birth (25:19–28)

THOUGH THE BARRENNESS obstacle that we saw in the Abraham story recurs in this generation, the text does not dwell on it. Instead, the obstacle in immediate focus is that once Rebekah conceives, she is troubled by a problem pregnancy. Events during pregnancy and birth were often considered ominous, so Rebekah inquires of the Lord to try to determine whether the “jostling” is significant. The terminology “to inquire of the LORD” usually indicates the asking of an oracle, but the text offers no information regarding the source or mechanism of the oracle.1

Genesis 25:23 records the content of the oracle, which by its very nature suggests it was provided by a human expert or by a theophany since mechanistic oracles do not give verbal messages. Usually those who gave oracles in Mesopotamia and Israel were priests at shrines, though later in Israel prophets also became a source of oracles.2 But where does Rebekah go or to whom? There are no formal priests or prophets of Yahweh as yet. True, Abraham occasionally functioned in both ways, and he is still alive when Jacob and Esau are born (Isaac is sixty, so Abraham is 160). But if Rebekah goes to Abraham for the oracle, it seems odd that the text does not mention it. Even if the oracle were taken as a theophany rather than a mediated oracle, the idea of going somewhere suggests a shrine or sacred place of some sort.

Another option is that the oracle is sought in a dream. This usually involved sleeping in a holy place but did not require a mediator. Perhaps the source consulted for this oracle is similar to the use of the mechanistic oracle in Genesis 24.3 But note that there were “free-lance” oracle specialists around (cf. Balaam in Num. 22), who could consult whichever deity was specified. In any case, the text makes it clear that the Lord spoke through this source, however questionable it may have been.

The focus of the text is on the content of the oracle, not its source. The jostling Rebekah feels signifies that she is carrying twins and that there will be conflict between them, with the younger prevailing. It is this conflict and reversal (the younger prevailing) that define the dominant obstacles for the new generation. It is important to notice that the oracle refers to the “peoples” that will come from them, not the individuals themselves. It does not suggest that the younger son is better or favored by God, though undoubtedly God determines the destinies. Nor does the oracle suggest that the younger be favored by the parents or be treated better. The oracle concerns the destiny of the descendants but gives no instruction for parenting the individuals.

The conflict that the oracle portends becomes reality even as the twins are born. The names given (“Red” or “Hairy,” and “Heel” or “Supplanter”) stand at the front of a long history that repeatedly illustrates their appropriateness. But that is how names were expected to function. Names in the ancient world most often made statements about deity, but they also sometimes offered commentary on circumstances surrounding one’s birth. A creative name might do both—one directly and the other through wordplay. This is apparently the case in Jacob’s name. The name Yaʿqub-el (or using other divine epithets besides “El”) is common in West Semitic and means “May the God El protect.” At the same time the noun using the same three root letters (ʿqb) means “heel.” Thus the name combines the standard sentence name with a comment on the circumstances of Jacob’s birth. But it is misleading to say that his parents named him “heel”; rather, we can say that his name made one think of heel.

The contrast between the two continues in their preferred lifestyles, and the conflict between them is energized by the favoritism shown by the parents. The oracle does not excuse Rebekah’s preferential treatment of Jacob nor does it condemn Isaac’s preferential treatment of Esau. The text is not about parenting. The “love” each parent shows for his or her respective favorite (v. 28) does not suggest that the other son is unloved. Rather, the verb translated “love” is indicative of favor, choice, and preference (cf. its use for an alliance between kings in 1 Kings 5:1). Rebekah undoubtedly loves both her children, but Jacob is her favorite and receives preferential treatment from her.

The qualities that endear Jacob to Rebekah are summarized in verse 27 (NIV,“a quiet man, staying among the tents”). The first quality has occasioned some controversy. The word translated “quiet” is elsewhere used as an attribute for someone with high moral character (Job in Job 1:8).4 It is most often parallel to the adjective yašar, “upright.” Since most find this meaning unsuitable for Jacob, they cast around for alternatives. Besides meaning “perfect” or “innocent” it has been suggested that the adjective may also carry the sense of “complete.” In most cases the context calls for completeness in a moral sense, but perhaps its usage can alternatively extend to someone who is socially complete.

If that is the direction taken here, the description of Jacob likely has to do with being sophisticated and refined, perhaps being an organized, administrative type of person who is conscientious, detail-oriented, well-rounded, and efficient. Such can only be speculation from what we observe about Jacob, for there are no occurrences of the adjective sufficiently nuanced in context to clarify these alternatives. The second description of him, “staying among the tents,” identifies him as engaged in seminomadic pastoralism rather than being a hunter like Esau.

Bridging Contexts

THIRD-GENERATION OBSTACLES. No sooner is the narrative opened than we again encounter obstacles to the blessings of the covenant. “Barrenness runs in the family” is only an oxymoron when God is not at work. In the face of Sarah’s barrenness, Abraham was portrayed as patient in faith. Isaac is portrayed as interceding on behalf of Rebekah’s infertility. This is not to suggest that Abraham did not pray for Sarah or that Isaac was somehow less patient. These elements receive their emphasis as the narrator follows his path.

It is intriguing to note that when Abraham’s story begins he is seventy-five years old, and he is one hundred when Isaac is born. That means that the barrenness obstacle takes twenty-five years to be resolved. In comparison, Isaac is forty years old when he marries Rebekah and sixty when the twins are born—a twenty-year wait. But though the length of time is not much different, in the text Sarah’s barrenness takes nine chapters to resolve while Rebekah’s takes one verse. One can almost read 25:21 as a ditto mark: Read in all the anxiety, concern, and uncertainty of Sarah’s barrenness.

Both we and the Israelite audience already know that Jacob is going to emerge as the covenant heir, steward of the patriarchal blessings, but we cannot afford to allow our knowledge to leap ahead of the narrative. Without prior information about how the story ends, chapters 25 and 27 would naturally be seen as Esau stories. After all, he is the firstborn and the expected heir. His actions drive the narratives while Jacob is seen simply reacting to the circumstances. While it is true that the norm in Genesis is for younger sons to thrive and prevail, in most cases the book shows how the elder son is disqualified or disqualifies himself from his privileged status. As the obstacles arise in the Isaac tol^edot, they deal with both Esau and Jacob and they concern conflict and character.

Conflict. As mentioned above, this narrative is not about good or bad parenting. The parenting foibles only help to highlight the conflict that serves as one of the main obstacles to the covenant that must be overcome. By the end of chapter 27 the conflict has become so intense that the family may not survive. How will God fulfill the promise that Abraham will become a great nation if his grandsons exterminate one another? How can this family be a blessing to the nations when they are so immersed in their internecine rivalry? These chapters do not resolve the conflict; they only describe it. The resolution of this jeopardy will be accomplished in pages to come.

Character. The intention of the passage is not to warn readers against despising those benefits they are born with (as Esau did) or to admonish against exploiting someone’s needs to our own advantage (as Jacob did), though undoubtedly those lessons would be constructive. We should first of all understand the episode with regard to the role that the character of the protagonists plays in the unfolding drama of the covenant. The narrator uses the episodes of both chapters 25 and 27 to demonstrate the reasons for the escalating tensions between the two brothers and to illustrate the character flaws in each.

Jacob’s character flaws are considered just as much a threat to the covenant as the antagonism that threatens his very survival. When Isaac lay on the altar and his life dangled by a thin thread, the covenant was in no less jeopardy than when Jacob pushes Esau to the extremity in which he plots Jacob’s murder. The absence of character in both Esau and Jacob stands as an obstacle that is every bit as insurmountable as the conflict that pits them against one another.

But why does the text make the point that Esau despised his birthright? The inheritance distribution is not directly associated with the covenant, and we never hear of Jacob actually receiving the double share of the inheritance or doing anything with it. In fact, when he returns to Canaan and meets with Esau (Gen. 32–33), it can easily be inferred that he renounces his claims to the birthright insofar as he expresses to Esau that he is content with the blessings and prosperity that the Lord has given him and has no intention of taking anything that is Esau’s. In Genesis 13 it was important to see that Lot left the land of his own choice in order to clarify Abraham’s claims. There is nothing in the birthright, however, that gives Esau claims in the land that the text insists belong to Jacob.12

We must conclude, then, that the purpose of the narrative is not to establish a claim that is lost or gained by the parties involved. Instead, it provides an explanation for why Jacob is more suitable as the covenant heir. Esau is shown to be a utilitarian type of person. Genesis 25 ends with a striking sequence of five straight verbs: ate, drank, got up, left, despised. Perhaps the author is suggesting that it was just as routine for him to despise his birthright as it was to do the others. It is not that Esau trades the covenant blessing away (remember that the birthright relates to material inheritance), but rather he shows his attitude toward heritage. If he so lightly esteems his material birthright, what reason is there to believe that he will value a covenant birthright?

Intrusion of the Isaac story. Above we noted that the only chapter specifically dedicated to Isaac (Gen. 26) is part of the tol^edot that deals with his children. We must therefore explain its presence and function not only within Genesis but also its position within the Jacob-Esau story, located between the two exploitation-of-Esau stories.

Its inclusion in Genesis as a whole is the easier of the two to explain. Even a superficial reading of the chapter reveals the frequent reference back to Abraham and the covenant promises. In the wife-sister incident and the digging of wells and building of altars, Isaac is portrayed as following in the footsteps of his father, Abraham. Isaac is blessed, and the people around him recognize the blessing he enjoys from the Lord and want to share in it. In other words, chapter 26 functions appropriately in the story of the development of the covenant. But if that were all there was to this chapter, it would have made more sense to isolate it under a tol^edot of Abraham as an independent section. Why is this part of the Jacob cycle?

The reiteration of the covenant promises in 26:3–5 concludes on the aspect that was first introduced to the covenant clauses in 22:18, the obedience of Abraham. This emphasis on obedience to God’s commands stands in stark contrast to the questionable conduct of Jacob that ended chapter 25. The narrator thereby places Jacob’s character flaws and Yahweh’s covenant expectations in juxtaposition to one another. This reiteration also reminds us of another birthright. Esau’s despising of the birthright of his material inheritance argues that he would be just as likely to devalue the birthright of covenant promises. The recitation of the covenant also is prefaced by the admonition to stay in the land. Both Jacob and Esau put the land in jeopardy. The former leaves for twenty years but eventually returns, while the latter has settled in the land of Seir (= Edom; 32:3; 33:16).

Thus we can see that the author uses Genesis 26 to put the activities and attitudes of Jacob and Esau into perspective. Right after the initial introduction to their foibles at the end of Genesis 25, the author anticipates some of the confusion, if not revulsion, his audience may be feeling about these two unpalatable characters. His stories about Isaac allow the audience to reflect on the incident just reported as well as to prepare them for the scenes about to unfold, especially in Genesis 27.

When we look at Genesis 26 in this light, we are able to see some of the stories from a different angle. The wife-sister episode is not presented as an obstacle the way that it was in the Abraham narratives of Genesis 12 and 20. Rebekah is never even taken by Abimelech. Here it is a masquerade. Masquerades are going to figure prominently in the coming Jacob narratives as Jacob masquerades as Esau (Gen. 27) and Leah masquerades as Rachel (Gen. 29). At the end of Isaac and Rebekah’s masquerade, Isaac is seen “Isaac-ing” with his wife (26:8; NIV “caressing”); at the end of Jacob’s masquerade, Jacob is seen as one who “Jacobs” (27:36; NIV “deceives”). The true character and identity of both Isaac and Jacob can be seen for what they really are when they begin living out their names.

The other major section of Genesis 26 is a narrative concerning Isaac’s wells. This narrative shows the resolution of conflict (26:28) as the result of the Lord’s blessing. This prefigures what will eventually happen in the Jacob-Esau conflict. Before that happens, however, Isaac suffers the loss of blessing to which he has a right (as Esau does), and he is driven away by the hostility of the people of Gerar (similar to Jacob’s being driven away by Esau). But why name the wells, and why does the author of Genesis make note of it? I suggest that they are the finishing touch to the montage,13 just as the names at the end Genesis 38 serve to bring home the purpose of the montage there. Here the names of the wells anticipate the resolution of the Jacob-Esau conflict. Esek (“dispute”) offers a parallel to the encounter between Jacob and Esau over the stew. Sitnah correlates to the formal complaint lodged by Esau against Jacob in Genesis 27. The final well, Rehoboth, is appropriate to the parting between Jacob and Esau that resolves their conflict. Thus, the names of the wells serve as a nutshell synthesis of the Jacob-Esau cycle.14

This chapter, then, illustrates how God is able to accomplish his plan despite the presence of these various elements. In the midst of masquerades, jealousy, hostility, and conflict, God is able to preserve his covenant and bring blessing. For the reader who is feeling some anxiety about the potential (or lack of it) in Esau and Jacob, Genesis 26 offers some confidence in God’s track record in working out these sorts of things. Just as Genesis 38 is a montage using Judah to show the possibilities for everything to work out satisfactorily for Joseph (see comments on that chapter), Genesis 26 is a montage using Isaac’s story to show the possibility that everything will work out satisfactorily for the covenant in the hands of the likes of Esau and Jacob. God works both despite and through their foibles.

This is the third of four places in Genesis where the author uses the narrative device of intrusion.15 By understanding these as a group, we can appreciate the role of each one individually. These intrusions are digressive in plot but not in theme. As seen on the chart below, the two intrusions in the Abraham cycle function to explore important covenant issues: land, family, and blessing. These anticipate long-term issues and lay important theoretical foundations that prepare the Israelite audience to think about their covenant heritage. In contrast, the intrusions in the Jacob cycle and the Joseph story function to explore the ways in which God works through circumstances to overcome obstacles. These anticipate the audience’s revulsion at the behavior of the protagonists and prepare them for expecting that God will be able to work in the midst of the problems to accomplish his plan.

The brief note about Esau’s marriages that concludes chapter 26 is resumptive from the end of chapter 25. In 25:34 he assigned slight value to the heritage represented in his birthright. Here he likewise attaches no value to the tradition of marrying someone from outside the land and thus does not remain separate from the peoples of the land. In this way the narrator continues to demonstrate that Esau is an unworthy steward of the covenant.

Grand theft. It should be noticed in Genesis 27 how much the plot slows down. The attention to the conversations between the parties, to the investiture of Jacob, and to the questioning of Jacob by Isaac creates a good deal of suspense. Although it undoubtedly makes for a good story, one wonders if it is not counterproductive for the author to spend so much time and effort to document how the ancestor of all Israel stole the family blessing from Esau, the ancestor of the Edomites. This is one of the details of history that would qualify as dirty laundry, and one would think it would be consigned to the back of the closet full of traditions. Certainly no one can accuse the Israelites of whitewashing their heroes.

I believe that the author is giving an example of how God sometimes works behind the scenes. In the Joseph story we will see how God works out his plan for blessing in someone’s life despite the foul schemes perpetrated against him. In Jacob, however, God works out his plan for blessing in someone’s life despite the foul schemes the main character himself is involved in. God does not approve of Jacob’s deception any more than he approved of Joseph’s brothers’ conspiracy. But just as he used the brothers’ conspiracy to accomplish his plan, he uses Jacob’s deception. God’s hand becomes more evident as the author shows each twist and turn to be more unlikely of success than the last.

But lest we harbor a hint of doubt concerning God’s integrity, we must recall that Jacob does not escape unscathed from this incident. He is driven penniless from his home for twenty years and never sees his mother again. This is fitting. Yet even as he suffers appropriate consequences, God mercifully spares him from the consequences that would have come if the scheme had failed. Perhaps the consequences of its succeeding are worse for Jacob as well as more productive in his life. Whatever the reason, I believe that the narrator wants us to see that God is in the details. God’s plan both for Jacob and for Israel later on is going to work out better if the masquerading scheme succeeds.

Contemporary Significance

VALUING HERITAGE. It is particularly painful when a son or daughter shows no concern for the rich heritage and solid upbringing they have received. In the famous parable, though the prodigal son did not fail to appreciate his inheritance, he did reject the value system of his father. Just as Esau is painted as one who did not adopt the value system of his family, many today turn aside from their family’s values and in the process forfeit God’s blessing in missed opportunities.

Some find their way back, hunted by the hound of heaven,16 but it is interesting that the text does not engage in offering counsel concerning how to reclaim the wandering child. It does not offer comfort to the heartsick parent. It does not advise the rebellious child to reconsider his or her ways and return to the fold. The interest of the text in this narrative is not in reconciliation, reclamation, or restoration. Its focus is on the unworthiness of the prodigal, Esau. Although it is true that Jacob does not rely on God and tries to take his destiny into his own hands, God is going to fix that before he entrusts the covenant heritage to him. But when Esau is shown rejecting the values of his heritage, he is set aside and cut off from God’s blessing.

This concept is compellingly illustrated in Daniel DeFoe’s Robinson Crusoe. Against all the advice of his family—indeed, against specific warnings concerning his inordinate desire to wander abroad—young Crusoe embarked on voyage after voyage, in the process hazarding his life and his fortune on numerous occasions. Even in the extremity of shipwreck he did not immediately recognize that he had been thoughtless of God and had been living in disregard of his family and sound judgment. His wanderlust had caused him to turn aside from his family heritage and spiritual values, yet he still resisted reform despite the obvious grace of God in sparing his life.

Even when I was afterwards, on due consideration, made sensible of my condition, how I was cast on this dreadful place, out of the reach of humane kind, out of all hope of relief or prospect of redemption, as soon as I saw but a prospect of living, and that I should not starve and perish for hunger, all the sense of my affliction wore off, and I begun to be very easy, apply’d my self to the works proper for my preservation and supply, and was far enough from being afflicted at my condition, as a judgment from heaven, or as the hand of God against me; there were thoughts which very seldom entered into my head.17

Only when Crusoe became sick did his thoughts turn to his waywardness, his family, and his God. He regretted the pain he had brought to his family and recognized the hand of God in his life:

I rejected the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture or station of life wherein I might have been happy and easy; but I would neither see it my self, or learn to know the blessing of it from my parents; I left them to mourn over my folly, and now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it; I refused their help and assistance who wou’d have lifted me into the world, and wou’d have made every thing easy to me, and now I have difficulties to struggle with, too great even for nature itself to support, and no assistance, no help, no comfort, no advice. Then I cry’d out, “Lord, be my help, for I am in great distress.”18

In this sense, Crusoe’s story takes a turn that Esau’s never took. After this first prayer, he recovered from his illness and also from his resistance to his upbringing and heritage. When he came upon a Bible the next day, he began to read. Several days thereafter he recognized his need for repentance, turned his life over to Christ, and regained the blessing of God in his life.

It was now that I began sensibly to feel how much more happy this life I now led was, with all its miserable circumstances, than the wicked, cursed, abominable life I led all the past part of my days; and now I changed both my sorrows and my joys; my very desires altered, my affections changed their gusts, and my delights were perfectly new from what they were at my first coming, or indeed for the two years past.19

What can we expect from God when we show ourselves unworthy of his blessing by despising the values that comprise our spiritual heritage? When Saul showed similar tendencies, the verdict was clear: “The LORD has torn the kingdom of Israel from you today and has given it to one of your neighbors—to one better than you” (1 Sam. 15:28). God is elsewhere portrayed as one who engineers reconciliation (see 2 Sam. 14:14), but that is a different thing. Reconciliation is always possible, but one can lose privileges and forfeit God’s blessings long before the point of reconciliation ever comes. Even when it does come, one is often left, like Robinson Crusoe, regretting all the wasted years.

Christians who have grown up in difficult family situations may often fantasize about growing up in a loving, nurturing Christian environment. But the Bible and history are replete with examples of those who have grown up in the homes of great spiritual leaders but have found the pathway less than smooth. As early as Eli, Samuel, and David, we discover sons who found their heritage difficult to appropriate. Enough stories are available about prodigal preacher’s kids and missionary’s kids for all to be aware of the problems.

A poignant modern illustration can be found in the story of Franklin Graham, the son of Billy Graham. Many might think that growing up with Billy Graham as a father would be an ideal spiritual environment. Franklin did not find it so. It annoyed him always to be introduced as Billy Graham’s son. Feeling individually worthless, he found ways to express his independence from his famous father. Beginning with smoking and drinking in his middle teen years, his rebellion found like-minded compatriots at the private Christian school he attended and flowered into calloused cynicism that defied the system and the authority that stood behind it. Though he never lost his admiration for his parents, his habits reflected the fact that his parents’ faith was not his faith.

Though he found enough Christians who gave credibility to a life of integrity and faith, during his college years he continued to be turned off by what he viewed as institutional hypocrisy and was unwilling to accept the claim of any authority on his life. Halfway through he was expelled for violations of the rules. Though involved in missions work and even eventually helping his father organize crusades, Franklin stubbornly remained unwilling to accept the claims of Christ on his life. It was not until he was twenty-two, after finally graduating from college, that his resistance broke down. He surrendered to Christ in a hotel room in Jerusalem shortly after the 1974 Lausanne Congress for Evangelism. In 1980 he became the president of a Christian relief organization, Samaritan’s Purse, and his ministry and godly service have had a worldwide impact.20

The happy ending of Franklin Graham’s story attests to the determination of God to reclaim those who wander away. Nevertheless, though God’s time is never wasted, Christians can waste their own years, foregoing the blessing of God, the spiritual growth, and the opportunities for ministry and service when they abandon their heritage. Sometimes even when they return, their ill-advised choices have brought consequences that cannot be easily undone: a criminal record, an unbelieving spouse, financial ruin, health ravaged by self-destructive habits, children who have been so influenced by the previous godless example that their course in life is set. In cases such as these, the blessings of a spiritually productive marriage, good health, or a godly family may be unachievable. Such blessings of God can be permanently forfeited.

Duplicity: true character will emerge. Life is not a fairy tale. Imagine Aladdin in the Tales of 1001 Arabian Nights being exposed as an imposter and, instead of getting the sultan’s daughter anyway, gets thrown into prison to rot. Imagine Pinocchio doomed to keep his donkey ears and liar nose and never to enjoy the sensation of being flesh and blood rather than wood. When someone’s true character emerges from his or her masquerade, rarely are all the effects wiped away by the flash of a wand or the rubbing of a lamp. We live with consequences. In the tragic circumstances, for instance, in which a pastor is exposed as an unfaithful husband, the consequences can be found in devastated families, divided churches, nullified ministries, and ruined lives. Duplicity cannot be forever sustained. A person’s true character will emerge.

The classic depiction of this is found in Shakespeare’s Iago in the play Othello. When Othello appoints Cassio to a position that Iago wants for himself, Iago involves himself in a complex weave of political, professional, and personal situations in order to get revenge on these two who have become his rivals. Like Iago, many of us try to play on both sides of the field. It is easy to patronize our associates, acquaintances, bosses, neighbors, or relatives to their faces but then to slander, belittle, or criticize them to others. It is tempting to play people against one another to our advantage. It is intrinsic behavior to put on a mask of piety and spirituality in church though our professional and family lives easily reveal how thin the mask of godliness is. Such masquerade and duplicity cannot be sustained indefinitely. Like Iago, we will all eventually be seen for what we are.

Obstacle of family conflict. Far too many families in our nation and in our churches are paralyzed by conflict. It may be true that every family has its quirks, but we recognize dysfunctional families as those that have malfunctioned from a sociological standpoint to the extent that its members suffer psychological or even physical damage.

We also have spiritually dysfunctional families. One of the most significant factors contributing to spiritual dysfunctionality is conflict. I am not talking about differences of opinion or disciplinary situations but of personality conflicts that have resulted from perceived or actual faults, shortcomings, injustices, or negligence. Brothers and sisters become estranged; children are disenfranchised or rebel; in-laws find fault and constantly drive wedges between relationships; wives nag, husbands disengage. How can a family grow together spiritually in the climate of such conflict? Only by overcoming it and resolving it. “Impossible!” many would respond. Conflicts run so deep and have existed for so long that they seem beyond any possible resolution. But God is a God who can resolve family conflicts.

Paul Hegstrom’s story may be extreme, but it illustrates the point well. He reports that he began beating his wife within a week of their wedding. Subject to uncontrollable fits of anger, years went by with beatings occurring almost constantly, week in and week out. As children came along, they suffered the same ill-treatment as his wife. Finally, after sixteen years of marriage his wife could bear it no longer and left him. But even the divorce was not enough of a wake-up call. The pattern continued as he went from relationship to relationship. He hit bottom as one situation became so violent that he was threatened with charges of attempted murder.

As his regret and guilt turned to despair, he sought counseling and began to do research on what drives angry abusive men to act the way they do. But more important, he sought out God. In his extremity he asked God to change him and rid him of the anger that had made him abusive and useless to his family and to God, and that is exactly what happened. As his anger came under control and rage melted away, he made contact with his estranged family and began the long, slow process of winning back their trust and love. Eventually his wife was won over by the changes in Paul and their marriage was restored.

His service to God took on a new direction as he began a ministry called “Life Skills Learning Center” to help others caught in the same trap as he had been. His books and seminars now help men who are caught in the cycle of anger, abusiveness, and guilt. His life was the subject of a CBS movie called Unforgivable, and he has appeared as a guest on many talk shows to spread a message of hope for battered and broken families. God healed Paul Hegstrom’s character flaws, resolved his family conflicts, and salvaged him for vital and productive ministry. The God of Jacob is alive and well; there are no family conflicts that he cannot overcome.21

Successful swindlers. The joke is told of the deacon whose property adjoined that of a golf course. One Sunday morning he decided to skip church and take in some golf. He slipped over the fence onto the third fairway and began to play. As in the case of Job, Satan was standing before God and asked what God intended to do to punish the deacon’s dishonesty. “Just wait and see what happens on the fifth hole,” God smiled. The fifth hole was the most difficult on the course and often was responsible for scuttling the hopes for a good game. On this particular Sunday morning, however, the deacon (whose handicap was a barely mediocre 33) drove the ball straight and true. Not only did it find the green, but also it took the curve of the terrain and went right in the cup: a hole-in-one.

Satan was aghast with incredulity. “Why have you rewarded this unconscionable conduct with such remarkable success?”

“It looks like success now,” replied God, “but who is he going to tell?”

Perhaps on occasion when reading Jacob’s story or even when observing people we know, we may be inclined to ask, “How can God allow this conniver to succeed?” From Jacob’s story we can see that God at times allows success in sin because he has a greater lesson to teach someone at a later time. God’s timing is strategic. None of us experiences immediate response from God every time we sin. Rather, at the proper time God brings our sins to our attention or brings the full fruit of consequences into our lives. That inevitably means that sin has the capability of bringing temporary success. God, in his impeccable sovereignty, will bring each sin to light and fruit so as to serve his optimum purposes in our lives and in his plan. He did so to Jacob (Gen. 29–32) and will do so in our lives as well. The success from sin is short-lived.

Original Meaning

Birthright (25:29–34)

THE PRIZE. We must first be clear about what is at stake. The birthright was the oldest son’s share of the material estate of the family. In the ancient world the firstborn typically received a double share of the inheritance. Thus, if there were twelve sons, the inheritance would be divided into thirteen and the oldest would receive two-thirteenths. In other words, the fewer the number of sons, the greater the discrepancy. In the case of Esau and Jacob, the inheritance would someday be divided into three parts, and Esau would receive two-thirds—twice what Jacob would receive. That discrepancy would be painful enough to a second child, but the sense of injustice would be substantially increased when the second born is a twin.

Thus, it is easy to understand the sort of bitterness and jealousy that could result from such inequity. Perhaps the bargain struck in these verses is for the additional share rather than Esau’s entire inheritance, thus in effect giving Jacob the right of the firstborn, but that is more hunch than text. There are no examples in the known literature from the ancient Near East of such a deal being made. The closest is in the legal materials from Nuzi, where one brother sells some already-inherited property to one of his brothers.

The setting. Jacob is cooking stew. Was this his normal activity? In a large household such as Isaac’s, one would expect servants to do this sort of work. We may also ask why Esau does not appeal to Isaac to get the food that is being withheld. The most logical solution for these two questions is that the setting is not at their home base but at a shepherd camp, where Jacob has traveled to graze the flocks and herds (cf. the Joseph story, 37:2, 12–17). We need not picture Jacob out on his own camping or at home doing kitchen detail. Most realistic is a setting in which Jacob is in charge of one of the groups of herders at a grazing site. When Esau stumbles into the camp, there may have been many servants and hired help around, but Jacob is the one who sees the opportunity and takes charge.

Esau’s condition and capitulation. Is it possible that this skilled hunter is truly on the brink of starvation, or is he simply using careless hyperbole? One cannot tell from the terms used here, for they can be used to describe being famished or experiencing life-endangering hunger. Giving Esau the benefit of the doubt, we may accept that he believes that hunger threatens his life. If so, his assessment is correct: The birthright will do him no good if he dies. This thinking is reflected in the humorous poem about the situation by Jeanne Steig, entitled “Twins”:

Esau said, “I’m feeling faint.”

“Aw,” said Jacob, “no you ain’t.”

“Papa’s blessing,” Esau cried,

“Is mine by rights. But I’ll have died

Of hunger first. For pity’s sake—

My birthright for your lentils, Jake.”

“Your birthright?” Jacob murmured. “Sold!

Dig in, before the stuff gets cold.”5

Nevertheless, the original reading audience would react to Esau’s blunt statement (“What good is the birthright to me?”) with horror, regardless of his extremity. There was intrinsic value connected to a birthright, not just utilitarian value. The only evaluation the text offers comes in the last verb of verse 34: “Esau despised his birthright.” This verb does not reflect Esau’s feelings about the birthright but comments on his valuation of it: He valued it so cheaply that he sold it for a bowl of stew. In the same way (using the same verb) David devalues the Lord by his adultery with Bathsheba (2 Sam. 12:10). We can understand the word’s usage perhaps by looking at how we use the word “contempt.” This English verb can refer to a sentiment or mood, but it can also be used in the legal context of being held in “contempt of court,” which means that one is not showing the judge and the legal process the respect they deserve.

Bridging Contexts

THIRD-GENERATION OBSTACLES. No sooner is the narrative opened than we again encounter obstacles to the blessings of the covenant. “Barrenness runs in the family” is only an oxymoron when God is not at work. In the face of Sarah’s barrenness, Abraham was portrayed as patient in faith. Isaac is portrayed as interceding on behalf of Rebekah’s infertility. This is not to suggest that Abraham did not pray for Sarah or that Isaac was somehow less patient. These elements receive their emphasis as the narrator follows his path.

It is intriguing to note that when Abraham’s story begins he is seventy-five years old, and he is one hundred when Isaac is born. That means that the barrenness obstacle takes twenty-five years to be resolved. In comparison, Isaac is forty years old when he marries Rebekah and sixty when the twins are born—a twenty-year wait. But though the length of time is not much different, in the text Sarah’s barrenness takes nine chapters to resolve while Rebekah’s takes one verse. One can almost read 25:21 as a ditto mark: Read in all the anxiety, concern, and uncertainty of Sarah’s barrenness.

Both we and the Israelite audience already know that Jacob is going to emerge as the covenant heir, steward of the patriarchal blessings, but we cannot afford to allow our knowledge to leap ahead of the narrative. Without prior information about how the story ends, chapters 25 and 27 would naturally be seen as Esau stories. After all, he is the firstborn and the expected heir. His actions drive the narratives while Jacob is seen simply reacting to the circumstances. While it is true that the norm in Genesis is for younger sons to thrive and prevail, in most cases the book shows how the elder son is disqualified or disqualifies himself from his privileged status. As the obstacles arise in the Isaac tol^edot, they deal with both Esau and Jacob and they concern conflict and character.

Conflict. As mentioned above, this narrative is not about good or bad parenting. The parenting foibles only help to highlight the conflict that serves as one of the main obstacles to the covenant that must be overcome. By the end of chapter 27 the conflict has become so intense that the family may not survive. How will God fulfill the promise that Abraham will become a great nation if his grandsons exterminate one another? How can this family be a blessing to the nations when they are so immersed in their internecine rivalry? These chapters do not resolve the conflict; they only describe it. The resolution of this jeopardy will be accomplished in pages to come.

Character. The intention of the passage is not to warn readers against despising those benefits they are born with (as Esau did) or to admonish against exploiting someone’s needs to our own advantage (as Jacob did), though undoubtedly those lessons would be constructive. We should first of all understand the episode with regard to the role that the character of the protagonists plays in the unfolding drama of the covenant. The narrator uses the episodes of both chapters 25 and 27 to demonstrate the reasons for the escalating tensions between the two brothers and to illustrate the character flaws in each.

Jacob’s character flaws are considered just as much a threat to the covenant as the antagonism that threatens his very survival. When Isaac lay on the altar and his life dangled by a thin thread, the covenant was in no less jeopardy than when Jacob pushes Esau to the extremity in which he plots Jacob’s murder. The absence of character in both Esau and Jacob stands as an obstacle that is every bit as insurmountable as the conflict that pits them against one another.

But why does the text make the point that Esau despised his birthright? The inheritance distribution is not directly associated with the covenant, and we never hear of Jacob actually receiving the double share of the inheritance or doing anything with it. In fact, when he returns to Canaan and meets with Esau (Gen. 32–33), it can easily be inferred that he renounces his claims to the birthright insofar as he expresses to Esau that he is content with the blessings and prosperity that the Lord has given him and has no intention of taking anything that is Esau’s. In Genesis 13 it was important to see that Lot left the land of his own choice in order to clarify Abraham’s claims. There is nothing in the birthright, however, that gives Esau claims in the land that the text insists belong to Jacob.12

We must conclude, then, that the purpose of the narrative is not to establish a claim that is lost or gained by the parties involved. Instead, it provides an explanation for why Jacob is more suitable as the covenant heir. Esau is shown to be a utilitarian type of person. Genesis 25 ends with a striking sequence of five straight verbs: ate, drank, got up, left, despised. Perhaps the author is suggesting that it was just as routine for him to despise his birthright as it was to do the others. It is not that Esau trades the covenant blessing away (remember that the birthright relates to material inheritance), but rather he shows his attitude toward heritage. If he so lightly esteems his material birthright, what reason is there to believe that he will value a covenant birthright?

Intrusion of the Isaac story. Above we noted that the only chapter specifically dedicated to Isaac (Gen. 26) is part of the tol^edot that deals with his children. We must therefore explain its presence and function not only within Genesis but also its position within the Jacob-Esau story, located between the two exploitation-of-Esau stories.

Its inclusion in Genesis as a whole is the easier of the two to explain. Even a superficial reading of the chapter reveals the frequent reference back to Abraham and the covenant promises. In the wife-sister incident and the digging of wells and building of altars, Isaac is portrayed as following in the footsteps of his father, Abraham. Isaac is blessed, and the people around him recognize the blessing he enjoys from the Lord and want to share in it. In other words, chapter 26 functions appropriately in the story of the development of the covenant. But if that were all there was to this chapter, it would have made more sense to isolate it under a tol^edot of Abraham as an independent section. Why is this part of the Jacob cycle?

The reiteration of the covenant promises in 26:3–5 concludes on the aspect that was first introduced to the covenant clauses in 22:18, the obedience of Abraham. This emphasis on obedience to God’s commands stands in stark contrast to the questionable conduct of Jacob that ended chapter 25. The narrator thereby places Jacob’s character flaws and Yahweh’s covenant expectations in juxtaposition to one another. This reiteration also reminds us of another birthright. Esau’s despising of the birthright of his material inheritance argues that he would be just as likely to devalue the birthright of covenant promises. The recitation of the covenant also is prefaced by the admonition to stay in the land. Both Jacob and Esau put the land in jeopardy. The former leaves for twenty years but eventually returns, while the latter has settled in the land of Seir (= Edom; 32:3; 33:16).

Thus we can see that the author uses Genesis 26 to put the activities and attitudes of Jacob and Esau into perspective. Right after the initial introduction to their foibles at the end of Genesis 25, the author anticipates some of the confusion, if not revulsion, his audience may be feeling about these two unpalatable characters. His stories about Isaac allow the audience to reflect on the incident just reported as well as to prepare them for the scenes about to unfold, especially in Genesis 27.

When we look at Genesis 26 in this light, we are able to see some of the stories from a different angle. The wife-sister episode is not presented as an obstacle the way that it was in the Abraham narratives of Genesis 12 and 20. Rebekah is never even taken by Abimelech. Here it is a masquerade. Masquerades are going to figure prominently in the coming Jacob narratives as Jacob masquerades as Esau (Gen. 27) and Leah masquerades as Rachel (Gen. 29). At the end of Isaac and Rebekah’s masquerade, Isaac is seen “Isaac-ing” with his wife (26:8; NIV “caressing”); at the end of Jacob’s masquerade, Jacob is seen as one who “Jacobs” (27:36; NIV “deceives”). The true character and identity of both Isaac and Jacob can be seen for what they really are when they begin living out their names.

The other major section of Genesis 26 is a narrative concerning Isaac’s wells. This narrative shows the resolution of conflict (26:28) as the result of the Lord’s blessing. This prefigures what will eventually happen in the Jacob-Esau conflict. Before that happens, however, Isaac suffers the loss of blessing to which he has a right (as Esau does), and he is driven away by the hostility of the people of Gerar (similar to Jacob’s being driven away by Esau). But why name the wells, and why does the author of Genesis make note of it? I suggest that they are the finishing touch to the montage,13 just as the names at the end Genesis 38 serve to bring home the purpose of the montage there. Here the names of the wells anticipate the resolution of the Jacob-Esau conflict. Esek (“dispute”) offers a parallel to the encounter between Jacob and Esau over the stew. Sitnah correlates to the formal complaint lodged by Esau against Jacob in Genesis 27. The final well, Rehoboth, is appropriate to the parting between Jacob and Esau that resolves their conflict. Thus, the names of the wells serve as a nutshell synthesis of the Jacob-Esau cycle.14

This chapter, then, illustrates how God is able to accomplish his plan despite the presence of these various elements. In the midst of masquerades, jealousy, hostility, and conflict, God is able to preserve his covenant and bring blessing. For the reader who is feeling some anxiety about the potential (or lack of it) in Esau and Jacob, Genesis 26 offers some confidence in God’s track record in working out these sorts of things. Just as Genesis 38 is a montage using Judah to show the possibilities for everything to work out satisfactorily for Joseph (see comments on that chapter), Genesis 26 is a montage using Isaac’s story to show the possibility that everything will work out satisfactorily for the covenant in the hands of the likes of Esau and Jacob. God works both despite and through their foibles.

This is the third of four places in Genesis where the author uses the narrative device of intrusion.15 By understanding these as a group, we can appreciate the role of each one individually. These intrusions are digressive in plot but not in theme. As seen on the chart below, the two intrusions in the Abraham cycle function to explore important covenant issues: land, family, and blessing. These anticipate long-term issues and lay important theoretical foundations that prepare the Israelite audience to think about their covenant heritage. In contrast, the intrusions in the Jacob cycle and the Joseph story function to explore the ways in which God works through circumstances to overcome obstacles. These anticipate the audience’s revulsion at the behavior of the protagonists and prepare them for expecting that God will be able to work in the midst of the problems to accomplish his plan.

The brief note about Esau’s marriages that concludes chapter 26 is resumptive from the end of chapter 25. In 25:34 he assigned slight value to the heritage represented in his birthright. Here he likewise attaches no value to the tradition of marrying someone from outside the land and thus does not remain separate from the peoples of the land. In this way the narrator continues to demonstrate that Esau is an unworthy steward of the covenant.

Grand theft. It should be noticed in Genesis 27 how much the plot slows down. The attention to the conversations between the parties, to the investiture of Jacob, and to the questioning of Jacob by Isaac creates a good deal of suspense. Although it undoubtedly makes for a good story, one wonders if it is not counterproductive for the author to spend so much time and effort to document how the ancestor of all Israel stole the family blessing from Esau, the ancestor of the Edomites. This is one of the details of history that would qualify as dirty laundry, and one would think it would be consigned to the back of the closet full of traditions. Certainly no one can accuse the Israelites of whitewashing their heroes.

I believe that the author is giving an example of how God sometimes works behind the scenes. In the Joseph story we will see how God works out his plan for blessing in someone’s life despite the foul schemes perpetrated against him. In Jacob, however, God works out his plan for blessing in someone’s life despite the foul schemes the main character himself is involved in. God does not approve of Jacob’s deception any more than he approved of Joseph’s brothers’ conspiracy. But just as he used the brothers’ conspiracy to accomplish his plan, he uses Jacob’s deception. God’s hand becomes more evident as the author shows each twist and turn to be more unlikely of success than the last.

But lest we harbor a hint of doubt concerning God’s integrity, we must recall that Jacob does not escape unscathed from this incident. He is driven penniless from his home for twenty years and never sees his mother again. This is fitting. Yet even as he suffers appropriate consequences, God mercifully spares him from the consequences that would have come if the scheme had failed. Perhaps the consequences of its succeeding are worse for Jacob as well as more productive in his life. Whatever the reason, I believe that the narrator wants us to see that God is in the details. God’s plan both for Jacob and for Israel later on is going to work out better if the masquerading scheme succeeds.

Contemporary Significance

VALUING HERITAGE. It is particularly painful when a son or daughter shows no concern for the rich heritage and solid upbringing they have received. In the famous parable, though the prodigal son did not fail to appreciate his inheritance, he did reject the value system of his father. Just as Esau is painted as one who did not adopt the value system of his family, many today turn aside from their family’s values and in the process forfeit God’s blessing in missed opportunities.

Some find their way back, hunted by the hound of heaven,16 but it is interesting that the text does not engage in offering counsel concerning how to reclaim the wandering child. It does not offer comfort to the heartsick parent. It does not advise the rebellious child to reconsider his or her ways and return to the fold. The interest of the text in this narrative is not in reconciliation, reclamation, or restoration. Its focus is on the unworthiness of the prodigal, Esau. Although it is true that Jacob does not rely on God and tries to take his destiny into his own hands, God is going to fix that before he entrusts the covenant heritage to him. But when Esau is shown rejecting the values of his heritage, he is set aside and cut off from God’s blessing.

This concept is compellingly illustrated in Daniel DeFoe’s Robinson Crusoe. Against all the advice of his family—indeed, against specific warnings concerning his inordinate desire to wander abroad—young Crusoe embarked on voyage after voyage, in the process hazarding his life and his fortune on numerous occasions. Even in the extremity of shipwreck he did not immediately recognize that he had been thoughtless of God and had been living in disregard of his family and sound judgment. His wanderlust had caused him to turn aside from his family heritage and spiritual values, yet he still resisted reform despite the obvious grace of God in sparing his life.

Even when I was afterwards, on due consideration, made sensible of my condition, how I was cast on this dreadful place, out of the reach of humane kind, out of all hope of relief or prospect of redemption, as soon as I saw but a prospect of living, and that I should not starve and perish for hunger, all the sense of my affliction wore off, and I begun to be very easy, apply’d my self to the works proper for my preservation and supply, and was far enough from being afflicted at my condition, as a judgment from heaven, or as the hand of God against me; there were thoughts which very seldom entered into my head.17

Only when Crusoe became sick did his thoughts turn to his waywardness, his family, and his God. He regretted the pain he had brought to his family and recognized the hand of God in his life:

I rejected the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture or station of life wherein I might have been happy and easy; but I would neither see it my self, or learn to know the blessing of it from my parents; I left them to mourn over my folly, and now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it; I refused their help and assistance who wou’d have lifted me into the world, and wou’d have made every thing easy to me, and now I have difficulties to struggle with, too great even for nature itself to support, and no assistance, no help, no comfort, no advice. Then I cry’d out, “Lord, be my help, for I am in great distress.”18

In this sense, Crusoe’s story takes a turn that Esau’s never took. After this first prayer, he recovered from his illness and also from his resistance to his upbringing and heritage. When he came upon a Bible the next day, he began to read. Several days thereafter he recognized his need for repentance, turned his life over to Christ, and regained the blessing of God in his life.

It was now that I began sensibly to feel how much more happy this life I now led was, with all its miserable circumstances, than the wicked, cursed, abominable life I led all the past part of my days; and now I changed both my sorrows and my joys; my very desires altered, my affections changed their gusts, and my delights were perfectly new from what they were at my first coming, or indeed for the two years past.19

What can we expect from God when we show ourselves unworthy of his blessing by despising the values that comprise our spiritual heritage? When Saul showed similar tendencies, the verdict was clear: “The LORD has torn the kingdom of Israel from you today and has given it to one of your neighbors—to one better than you” (1 Sam. 15:28). God is elsewhere portrayed as one who engineers reconciliation (see 2 Sam. 14:14), but that is a different thing. Reconciliation is always possible, but one can lose privileges and forfeit God’s blessings long before the point of reconciliation ever comes. Even when it does come, one is often left, like Robinson Crusoe, regretting all the wasted years.

Christians who have grown up in difficult family situations may often fantasize about growing up in a loving, nurturing Christian environment. But the Bible and history are replete with examples of those who have grown up in the homes of great spiritual leaders but have found the pathway less than smooth. As early as Eli, Samuel, and David, we discover sons who found their heritage difficult to appropriate. Enough stories are available about prodigal preacher’s kids and missionary’s kids for all to be aware of the problems.

A poignant modern illustration can be found in the story of Franklin Graham, the son of Billy Graham. Many might think that growing up with Billy Graham as a father would be an ideal spiritual environment. Franklin did not find it so. It annoyed him always to be introduced as Billy Graham’s son. Feeling individually worthless, he found ways to express his independence from his famous father. Beginning with smoking and drinking in his middle teen years, his rebellion found like-minded compatriots at the private Christian school he attended and flowered into calloused cynicism that defied the system and the authority that stood behind it. Though he never lost his admiration for his parents, his habits reflected the fact that his parents’ faith was not his faith.

Though he found enough Christians who gave credibility to a life of integrity and faith, during his college years he continued to be turned off by what he viewed as institutional hypocrisy and was unwilling to accept the claim of any authority on his life. Halfway through he was expelled for violations of the rules. Though involved in missions work and even eventually helping his father organize crusades, Franklin stubbornly remained unwilling to accept the claims of Christ on his life. It was not until he was twenty-two, after finally graduating from college, that his resistance broke down. He surrendered to Christ in a hotel room in Jerusalem shortly after the 1974 Lausanne Congress for Evangelism. In 1980 he became the president of a Christian relief organization, Samaritan’s Purse, and his ministry and godly service have had a worldwide impact.20

The happy ending of Franklin Graham’s story attests to the determination of God to reclaim those who wander away. Nevertheless, though God’s time is never wasted, Christians can waste their own years, foregoing the blessing of God, the spiritual growth, and the opportunities for ministry and service when they abandon their heritage. Sometimes even when they return, their ill-advised choices have brought consequences that cannot be easily undone: a criminal record, an unbelieving spouse, financial ruin, health ravaged by self-destructive habits, children who have been so influenced by the previous godless example that their course in life is set. In cases such as these, the blessings of a spiritually productive marriage, good health, or a godly family may be unachievable. Such blessings of God can be permanently forfeited.

Duplicity: true character will emerge. Life is not a fairy tale. Imagine Aladdin in the Tales of 1001 Arabian Nights being exposed as an imposter and, instead of getting the sultan’s daughter anyway, gets thrown into prison to rot. Imagine Pinocchio doomed to keep his donkey ears and liar nose and never to enjoy the sensation of being flesh and blood rather than wood. When someone’s true character emerges from his or her masquerade, rarely are all the effects wiped away by the flash of a wand or the rubbing of a lamp. We live with consequences. In the tragic circumstances, for instance, in which a pastor is exposed as an unfaithful husband, the consequences can be found in devastated families, divided churches, nullified ministries, and ruined lives. Duplicity cannot be forever sustained. A person’s true character will emerge.

The classic depiction of this is found in Shakespeare’s Iago in the play Othello. When Othello appoints Cassio to a position that Iago wants for himself, Iago involves himself in a complex weave of political, professional, and personal situations in order to get revenge on these two who have become his rivals. Like Iago, many of us try to play on both sides of the field. It is easy to patronize our associates, acquaintances, bosses, neighbors, or relatives to their faces but then to slander, belittle, or criticize them to others. It is tempting to play people against one another to our advantage. It is intrinsic behavior to put on a mask of piety and spirituality in church though our professional and family lives easily reveal how thin the mask of godliness is. Such masquerade and duplicity cannot be sustained indefinitely. Like Iago, we will all eventually be seen for what we are.

Obstacle of family conflict. Far too many families in our nation and in our churches are paralyzed by conflict. It may be true that every family has its quirks, but we recognize dysfunctional families as those that have malfunctioned from a sociological standpoint to the extent that its members suffer psychological or even physical damage.

We also have spiritually dysfunctional families. One of the most significant factors contributing to spiritual dysfunctionality is conflict. I am not talking about differences of opinion or disciplinary situations but of personality conflicts that have resulted from perceived or actual faults, shortcomings, injustices, or negligence. Brothers and sisters become estranged; children are disenfranchised or rebel; in-laws find fault and constantly drive wedges between relationships; wives nag, husbands disengage. How can a family grow together spiritually in the climate of such conflict? Only by overcoming it and resolving it. “Impossible!” many would respond. Conflicts run so deep and have existed for so long that they seem beyond any possible resolution. But God is a God who can resolve family conflicts.

Paul Hegstrom’s story may be extreme, but it illustrates the point well. He reports that he began beating his wife within a week of their wedding. Subject to uncontrollable fits of anger, years went by with beatings occurring almost constantly, week in and week out. As children came along, they suffered the same ill-treatment as his wife. Finally, after sixteen years of marriage his wife could bear it no longer and left him. But even the divorce was not enough of a wake-up call. The pattern continued as he went from relationship to relationship. He hit bottom as one situation became so violent that he was threatened with charges of attempted murder.

As his regret and guilt turned to despair, he sought counseling and began to do research on what drives angry abusive men to act the way they do. But more important, he sought out God. In his extremity he asked God to change him and rid him of the anger that had made him abusive and useless to his family and to God, and that is exactly what happened. As his anger came under control and rage melted away, he made contact with his estranged family and began the long, slow process of winning back their trust and love. Eventually his wife was won over by the changes in Paul and their marriage was restored.

His service to God took on a new direction as he began a ministry called “Life Skills Learning Center” to help others caught in the same trap as he had been. His books and seminars now help men who are caught in the cycle of anger, abusiveness, and guilt. His life was the subject of a CBS movie called Unforgivable, and he has appeared as a guest on many talk shows to spread a message of hope for battered and broken families. God healed Paul Hegstrom’s character flaws, resolved his family conflicts, and salvaged him for vital and productive ministry. The God of Jacob is alive and well; there are no family conflicts that he cannot overcome.21

Successful swindlers. The joke is told of the deacon whose property adjoined that of a golf course. One Sunday morning he decided to skip church and take in some golf. He slipped over the fence onto the third fairway and began to play. As in the case of Job, Satan was standing before God and asked what God intended to do to punish the deacon’s dishonesty. “Just wait and see what happens on the fifth hole,” God smiled. The fifth hole was the most difficult on the course and often was responsible for scuttling the hopes for a good game. On this particular Sunday morning, however, the deacon (whose handicap was a barely mediocre 33) drove the ball straight and true. Not only did it find the green, but also it took the curve of the terrain and went right in the cup: a hole-in-one.

Satan was aghast with incredulity. “Why have you rewarded this unconscionable conduct with such remarkable success?”

“It looks like success now,” replied God, “but who is he going to tell?”

Perhaps on occasion when reading Jacob’s story or even when observing people we know, we may be inclined to ask, “How can God allow this conniver to succeed?” From Jacob’s story we can see that God at times allows success in sin because he has a greater lesson to teach someone at a later time. God’s timing is strategic. None of us experiences immediate response from God every time we sin. Rather, at the proper time God brings our sins to our attention or brings the full fruit of consequences into our lives. That inevitably means that sin has the capability of bringing temporary success. God, in his impeccable sovereignty, will bring each sin to light and fruit so as to serve his optimum purposes in our lives and in his plan. He did so to Jacob (Gen. 29–32) and will do so in our lives as well. The success from sin is short-lived.