2024-10-30_The Twelve Tribes

Ishmael and Isaac

Genesis 17:18-21: And Abraham said unto God, O that Ishmael might live before thee! And God said, Sarah thy wife shall bear thee a son indeed; and thou shalt call his name Isaac: and I will establish my covenant with him for an everlasting covenant, and with his seed after him. And as for Ishmael, I have heard thee: Behold, I have blessed him, and will make him fruitful, and will multiply him exceedingly; twelve princes shall he beget, and I will make him a great nation. But my covenant will I establish with Isaac, which Sarah shall bear unto thee at this set time in the next year.

Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary: Here is the promise made to Abraham of a son by Sarai, in whom the promise made to him should be fulfilled. The assurance of this promise was the change of Sarai's name into Sarah. Sarai signifies my princess, as if her honor were confined to one family only; Sarah signifies a princess. The more favors God confers upon us, the lower we should be in our own eyes. Abraham showed great joy; he laughed, it was a laughter of delight, not of distrust. Now it was that Abraham rejoiced to see Christ's day; now he saw it and was glad (John 8:56). Abraham, dreading lest Ishmael should be abandoned and forsaken of God, put up a petition on his behalf… Common blessings are secured to Ishmael. Outward good things are often given to those children of godly parents who are born after the flesh, for their parents' sake. Covenant blessings are reserved for Isaac and appropriated to him.

Isaac is an expression of God’s covenantal promise to Abraham. From the perspective of man, it is ridiculous that the covenantal promise should go into effect. Abraham laughs, not in distrust, but in delight, when he considers that, indeed, this promised child will be born, especially given how he and Sarai are so advanced in age. Hence, the name is Isaac, which in Hebrew means “he laughs.” This calls to mind Eve’s joyful exaltation when Cain is born. Grace hits us as so contrary to the normal course of events as to be almost incomprehensible at times. Sometimes, all that we can do is to cry out in joy or to laugh.

The contrariness of God’s providential action can be seen in how God disrupts the norms with respect to familial authority and inheritance. Cain is the first-born son, but Seth is chosen as the father of the Holy Remnant after Cain murders Abel. One may argue that God had no choice of choosing Seth for this role, given how Cain murdered Abel, thus rendering Cain inappropriate to the role. Nevertheless, consider that Seth, who God deems to be righteous, breaks the custom whereby the wife names the child. Instead, Seth names his first-born son, Enos. He is exercising patriarchal dominion and, in essence, conferring upon his son his special relationship with God by naming him. This is like Adam naming the creatures and, thus, imparting upon the creatures his legacy. We may presume that God sees in Seth the ability to perform that role and that that, more than the inappropriateness of choosing Cain and the impossibility of choosing Abel, is why God establishes in Seth a Holy Remnant. Familial norms, such as primogeniture in inheritance or the prerogative of the mother in naming a child, are important to maintain in and for the affairs of men. God is not bound by human cultural norms, though, even when providentially working among and for the sanctification of humans. Consider, for example, as follows:

1 Samuel 16:7: But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.

When God chooses David, he chooses the least of the sons of Jesse. Choosing David violates the familial norm of primogeniture inheritance. It also violates the basic human instinct to favor the beautiful (“look not on his countenance”) and the strong (“nor on the height of his stature”). By “looking on the heart,” God sees the inclination of a man’s will either for or against God. That is what matters most from God’s perspective, for a man will speak with authority among men and exercise power for the good not in virtue of his beauty and strength but in virtue of his real and enduring fidelity to God.

Isaac is the second born son, but he is chosen of God. Therefore, he receives the blessings that are appropriate to the Covenant. Ishmael, as the first-born, receives the blessings that would be expected where primogeniture is applied to worldly matters. Ishmael will receive great worldly blessings, but he and his descendants will be outside of the Covenant. In this subversion of the cultural and familial norms, we see a foreshadowing of when Christ Jesus says that the Sabbath is made for man, not man for the Sabbath (Mark 2:27). God is very able and willing to upset the tables of the moneychangers, so to speak, to establish His Covenant in a world that of its nature is inimical to any such Covenant.

Attempted Sacrifice of Isaac

Genesis 22:10-13: And Abraham stretched forth his hand and took the knife to slay his son. And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I. And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me. And Abraham lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns: and Abraham went and took the ram and offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son.

In the attempted sacrifice of Isaac, we see a four-fold action: God’s Call; Man’s Response; God’s Command; and Man’s Sacrifice. This is the pattern that will be repeated throughout the Jewish Scriptures. With God’s Call, we hear from heaven the name of Abraham twice spoken. We have learned that naming in Hebrew means “imparting one’s legacy upon,” as when Adam is naming the creatures in Eden. Speaking one’s name connotes more than simply identifying someone or demarcating one person out from the crowd. In Hebrew, speaking one’s name implies a deeper relationship. For this reason, strangers or acquaintances may call someone by his title, if he has one, or by his tribal affiliation. For example, a stranger or acquaintance would call me “Father,” but without mentioning my first and last name. If circumstances demand a more specific name, then an alternative name may be used. For example, because of our sinfulness, we are properly regarded as strangers unto God. Thus, by the Third Century B.C., a convention emerged among the rabbis that consonants in the Name of God, which is written as JHWH, should never be said even in the context of sacred liturgy. In its place, the rabbis would declare Adonai, which means Lord. Over time, the rabbis came to regard even Adonai as too close to the Name of God, since in directly referencing God as Lord we are giving utterance to His Majesty. Thus, the Orthodox have substituted for Adonai the word HaShem, which means “the name.” This is not a problem for Christians, since in Christ Jesus we cease to be strangers to God but are instead His adopted sons and daughters. Therefore, we can say the Name of Jesus without using a substitute. Thus, when God calls to Abraham twice, what is implied is their closed relationship. Notice that God uses the name that Abram received when God made His Covenant with him, so Abraham is the most intimate and special of names. God’s Call is a most intimate and special connection that is to be regarded as wholly separate from the mundane affairs of the world. God’s Call in itself is holy, which is to say, set apart from the profane. God’s Call in itself is a blessing to the recipient.

1 Samuel 3:4: That the Lord called Samuel: and he answered, Here am I.

Isaiah 6:8: Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.

“Here am I” is Abraham’s response. It is the phrase used by Samuel and Isaiah also in response to God’s Call. The phrase in Hebrew suggests a readiness to do as commanded. Isaiah 6:8 makes that even clearer by adding the phrase “send me.” Thus, the second of the four-fold pattern is a response where man without hesitation accepts whatever may turn out to be God’s Call even if there will be much hardship in the undertaking. The epitome of Man’s Response is “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord. Be it unto me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38). “Here am I” is a simple version of the same sentiment.

God’s Command is clear. There are times when God is deliberately opaque. Man as of yet may not be ready for a more direct statement or revelation, as when, for example, Moses is told he cannot see God’s face directly (Exodus 33:20). Or Christ Jesus may speak in parables in part to draw people out from the multitude who want to know more. Notice that is both instances of God’s opaqueness it is because of man’s limitation. God veils Himself to protect us from what we cannot handle or will misunderstand. Nevertheless, God does not veil Himself when He is issuing a command. This is rare in the ancient world where “the gods” often spoke cryptically. The Gnostics imagine the Demiurge, which for them is the fallen angel or eon that created the physical universe, as engaging in outright misdirection. The Gnostics presume that they alone can interpret what is true out from the misdirection, like finding splinters of gold in wet sand. This is not the case with God, though, for He issues commands that are specific to the moment and easy enough for the recipient to follow.

Man’s Sacrifice begins in doing exactly what it is that God commanded to do (or, in this specific instance, not to do). Although not specifically stated in the verse, we may assume here that as Abraham had lifted his knife, so now Abraham lowers it. Abraham has sublimated his own will entirely to God’s. He withholds the knife not because he is putting his love for his son above his fidelity to God but because God specifically tells him to do that. Sublimating one’s will to God’s will is the beginning of sacrifice. The end of sacrifice is in making an offering unto God in great gratitude for having had the opportunity to follow God’s will. This is key: Abraham sacrifices a ram caught in the thicket not in thanksgiving for sparing Isaac’s life, though no doubt Abraham is very thankful at the turn of events, but as a substitution for the sacrifice that is now not going to be made. Abraham still intends to finish with a sacrifice as an offering in gratitude for God’s original command, for there is no greater gift to Abraham than for Abraham to have a chance to do God’s will. God gives Abraham the means of doing just that by guiding a ram into a thicket. This is a foreshadowing of the Holy Spirit instilling in us a desire to do as the Father commands and an understanding of how we can follow through on that desire. The Holy Spirit in the man who wants to pray makes him want to pray better and practically prays for him when needed.

Keil & Delitzsch Biblical Commentary: In this eventful moment, when Isaac lay bound like a lamb upon the altar, about to receive the fatal stroke, the angel of the Lord called down from heaven to Abraham to stop and do his son no harm. For the Lord now knew that Abraham was God-fearing, and that his obedience of faith did extend even to the sacrifice of his own beloved son. The sacrifice was already accomplished in his heart, and he had satisfied the requirements of God. He was not to slay his son: therefore, God prevented the outward fulfilment of the sacrifice by an immediate interposition, and showed him a ram, which he saw, probably being led to look round through a rustling behind him, with its horns fast in a thicket; and as an offering provided by God Himself, he sacrificed it instead of his son.

Esau and Jacob

Genesis 25:29-34: And Jacob sod pottage: and Esau came from the field, and he was faint: And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me, I pray thee, with that same red pottage; for I am faint: therefore was his name called Edom. And Jacob said, Sell me this day thy birthright. And Esau said, Behold, I am at the point to die: and what profit shall this birthright do to me? And Jacob said, Swear to me this day; and he sware unto him: and he sold his birthright unto Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentiles; and he did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way: thus Esau despised his birthright.

Keil & Delitzsch Biblical Commentary: The difference in the characters of the two brothers was soon shown in a singular circumstance, which was the turning-point in their lives. Esau returned home one day from the field quite exhausted, and seeing Jacob with a dish of lentils, still a favorite dish in Syria and Egypt, he asked with passionate eagerness for some to eat: "Let me swallow some of that red, that red there;" the brown-red lentil pottage. From this he received the name Edom, just as among the ancient Arabians persons received names from quite accidental circumstances, which entirely obscured their proper names. Jacob made us of his brother's hunger to get him to sell his birthright. The birthright consisted afterwards in a double portion of the father's inheritance (Deuteronomy 21:17); but with the patriarchs it embraced the chieftainship, the rule over the brethren and the entire family (Genesis 27:29), and the title to the blessing of the promise (Genesis 27:4, Genesis 27:27-29), which included the future possession of Canaan and of covenant fellowship with Jehovah (Genesis 28:4). Jacob knew this, and it led him to anticipate the purposes of God. Esau also knew it but attached no value to it. There is proof enough that he knew he was giving away, along with the birthright, blessings which, because they were not of a material but of a spiritual nature, had no particular value in his estimation, in the words he made use of: "Behold I am going to die (to meet death), and what is the birthright to me?" The only thing of value to him was the sensual enjoyment of the present; the spiritual blessings of the future his carnal mind was unable to estimate. In this he showed himself to be βέβηλος (Hebrews 12:16), a profane man, who cared for nothing but the momentary gratification of sensual desires, who "did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way, and so despised his birthright" (Genesis 25:34). With these words the Scriptures judge and condemn the conduct of Esau. Just as Ishmael was excluded from the promised blessing because he was begotten "according to the flesh," so Esau lost it because his disposition was according to the flesh. The frivolity with which he sold his birthright to his brother for a dish of lentils, rendered him unfit to be the heir and possessor of the promised grace.

Like how we separated the descendants of Seth and Cain, where the former are memorialized with a genealogy; and Isaac and Ishmael, where the former is chosen of God and set apart as a lamb to be sacrificed; now, with Jacob and Esau, we see the separation of the holy out from the profane. It is in the nature of the profane to defile itself even further. Thus, Esau is not tricked of his birthright. He knowingly gives it away for an immediate pleasure. Now, it should be in the nature of the holy to be purified even further. Notice that Jacob is not particularly pure in all of this. He is taking advantage of his brother’s profanity to exact a loan shark’s return. Even those favored by God are not as good as they should be. So, we are really seeing gradation of sin here and not an absolute separation of profanity and holiness. The cultural and familial norms have been bypassed because of Esau’s earthiness: the first-born is giving his spiritual inheritance up for a decidedly non-spiritual objective. This is different than when God upsets the norms out of consideration for a man’s heart (greater predisposition to follow God’s will). But Jacob is not a blameless character in this scene, either. The inference is that God’s chosen over time will not uphold their end of the Covenant sufficiently well.

Genesis 37:23-28: And it came to pass, when Joseph was come unto his brethren, that they stripped Joseph out of his coat, his coat of many colors that was on him; And they took him, and cast him into a pit: and the pit was empty, there was no water in it. And they sat down to eat bread: and they lifted up their eyes and looked, and behold, a company of Ishmeelites came from Gilead with their camels bearing spicery and balm and myrrh, going to carry it down to Egypt. And Judah said unto his brethren, What profit is it if we slay our brother, and conceal his blood? Come, and let us sell him to the Ishmeelites, and let not our hand be upon him; for he is our brother and our flesh. And his brethren were content. Then there passed by Midianites merchantmen; and they drew and lifted up Joseph out of the pit and sold Joseph to the Ishmeelites for twenty pieces of silver: and they brought Joseph into Egypt.

MacLaren’s Exposition: The broad teaching of the whole story, which is ever being reiterated in Old Testament incidents, is that God works out His great purposes through even the crimes of unconscious men. There is an irony, if we may so say, in making the hatred of these men the very means of their brother’s advancement, and the occasion of blessing to themselves. As coral insects work, not knowing the plan of their reef, still less the fair vegetation and smiling homes which it will one day carry, but blindly building from the material supplied by the ocean a barrier against it; so even evil doers are carrying on God’s plan, and sin is made to counterwork itself, and be the black channel through which the flashing water of life pours. Joseph’s words {Genesis 50:20} give the point of view for the whole story: ‘Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good . . .to save many people alive.’ We can scarcely forget the still more wonderful example of the same thing, in the crime of crimes, when his brethren slew the Son of God-like Joseph, the victim of envy-and, by their crime, God’s counsel of mercy for them and for all was fulfilled. Following the narrative shows us the poisonous fruit of brotherly hatred. The family, not the nation, is the social unit in Genesis. From the beginning, we find the field on which sin works is the family relation. Cain and Abel, Ishmael and Isaac, Esau and Jacob, and now the other children of Jacob and Joseph, attest the power of sin when it enters there, and illustrate the principle that the corruption of the best is the worst. The children of Rachel could not but be hated by the children of other mothers. Jacob’s undisguised partiality for Joseph was a fault too, which wrought like yeast on the passions of his wild sons. The long-sleeved garment which he gave to the lad probably meant to indicate his purpose to bestow on him the right of the first-born forfeited by Reuben, and so the violent rage which it excited was not altogether baseless. The whole miserable household strife teaches the rottenness of the polygamous relation on which it rested, and the folly of paternal favoritism. So, it carries teaching especially needed then, but not out of date now…. The clumsy contrivance for murder without criminality, which Reuben suggested, is an instance of the shallow pretexts with which the sophistry of sin fools men before they have done the wrong thing. Sin’s mask is generally dropped very soon after. The bait is useless when the hook is well in the fish’s gills. ‘Don’t let us kill him. Let us put him into a cistern. He cannot climb up its bottle-shaped, smooth sides. But that is not our fault. Nobody will ever hear his muffled cries from its depths. But there will be no blood on our hands.’ It was not the first time, nor is it the last, that men have tried to blink their responsibility for the consequences which they hoped would come of their crimes. Such excuses seem sound when we are being tempted; but, as soon as the rush of passion is past, they are found to be worthless. Like some cheap castings, they are only meant to be seen in front, where they are rounded and burnished. Get behind them, and you find them hollow…. There are few bitterer sorrows than for a parent to see the children of his own sin in the sins of his children. Jacob might have felt that bitterness, as he looked round on the lovelessness and dark, passionate selfishness of his children, and remembered his own early crimes against Esau. He might have seen that his unwise fondness for the son of his Rachel had led to the brothers’ hatred, though he did not know that that hatred had plunged the arrow into his soul. Whether he knew it or not, his own conduct had feathered the arrow. He was drinking as he had brewed; and the heart-broken grief which darkened his later years had sprung from seed of his own sowing. So, it is always. ‘Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.’