Abraham had accepted without question the promise of a son, but he did

not wait for God to fulfill his word in his own time and way. A delay

was permitted, to test his faith in the power of God; but he failed to

endure the trial. Thinking it impossible that a child should be given

her in her old age, Sarah suggested, as a plan by which the divine

purpose might be fulfilled, that one of her handmaidens should be taken

by Abraham as a secondary wife. Polygamy had become so wide-spread that

it had ceased to be regarded as a sin, but it was no less a violation of

the law of God, and was fatal to the sacredness and peace of the family

relation. Abraham’s marriage with Hagar resulted in evil, not only to

his own household, but to future generations.

Flattered with the honor of her new position as Abraham’s wife, and

hoping to be the mother of the great nation to descend from him, Hagar

became proud and boastful, and treated her mistress with contempt.

Mutual jealousies disturbed the peace of the once happy home. Forced to

listen to the complaints of both, Abraham vainly endeavored to restore

harmony. Though it was at Sarah’s earnest entreaty that he had married

Hagar, she now reproached him as the one at fault. She desired to banish

her rival; but Abraham refused to permit this; for Hagar was to be the

mother of his child, as he fondly hoped, the son of promise. She was

Sarah’s servant, however, and he still left her to the control of her

mistress. Hagar’s haughty spirit would not brook the harshness which her

insolence had provoked. “When Sarai dealt hardly with her, she fled from

her face.”[200]

She made her way to the desert, and as she rested beside a fountain,

lonely and friendless, an angel of the Lord, in human form, appeared to

her. Addressing her as “Hagar, Sarai’s maid,” to remind her of her

position and her duty, he bade her, “Return to thy mistress, and submit

thyself under her hands.” Yet with the reproof there were mingled words

of comfort. “The Lord hath heard thy affliction.” “I will multiply thy

seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude.” And as a

perpetual reminder of his mercy, she was bidden to call her child

Ishmael, “God shall hear.”

When Abraham was nearly one hundred years old, the promise of a son was

repeated to him, with the assurance that the future heir should be the

child of Sarah. But Abraham did not yet understand the promise. His mind

at once turned to Ishmael, clinging to the belief that through him God’s

gracious purposes were to be accomplished. In his affection for his son

he exclaimed, “O that Ishmael might live before thee!”[201] Again the

promise was given, in words that could not be mistaken: “Sarah thy wife

shall bear thee a son indeed; and thou shalt call his name Isaac; and I

will establish my covenant with him.” Yet God was not unmindful of the

father’s prayer. “As for Ishmael,” he said, “I have heard thee. Behold,

I have blessed him, ... and I will make him a great nation.”[201]

The birth of Isaac, bringing, after a life-long waiting, the fulfillment

of their dearest hopes, filled the tents of Abraham and Sarah with

gladness. But to Hagar this event was the overthrow of her fondly

cherished ambitions. Ishmael, now a youth, had been regarded by all in

the encampment as the heir of Abraham’s wealth, and the inheritor of the

blessings promised to his descendants. Now he was suddenly set aside;

and in their disappointment, mother and son hated the child of Sarah.

The general rejoicing increased their jealousy, until Ishmael dared

openly to mock the heir of God’s promise. Sarah saw in Ishmael’s

turbulent disposition a perpetual source of discord, and she appealed to

Abraham, urging that Hagar and Ishmael be sent away from the encampment.

The patriarch was thrown into great distress. How could he banish

Ishmael his son, still dearly beloved? In his perplexity he pleaded for

divine guidance. The Lord, through a holy angel, directed him to grant

Sarah’s desire; his love for Ishmael or Hagar ought not to stand in the

way, for only thus could he restore harmony and happiness to his family.

And the angel gave him the consoling promise that though separated from

his father’s home, Ishmael should not be forsaken by God; his life

should be preserved, and he should become the father of a great nation.

Abraham obeyed the angel’s word, but it was not without keen suffering.

The father’s heart was heavy with unspoken grief as he sent away Hagar

and his son.

The instruction given to Abraham, touching the sacredness of the

marriage relation, was to be a lesson for all ages. It declares that the

rights and happiness of this relation are to be carefully guarded, even

at a great sacrifice. Sarah was the only true wife of Abraham. Her

rights as a wife and mother, no other person was entitled to share. She

reverenced her husband, and in this she is presented in the New

Testament as a worthy example. But she was unwilling that Abraham’s

affections should be given to another; and the Lord did not reprove her

for requiring the banishment of her rival. Both Abraham and Sarah

distrusted the power of God, and it was this error that led to the

marriage with Hagar.

God had called Abraham to be the father of the faithful, and his life

was to stand as an example of faith to succeeding generations. But his

faith had not been perfect. He had shown distrust of God in concealing

the fact that Sarah was his wife, and again in his marriage with Hagar.

That he might reach the highest standard, God subjected him to another

test, the closest which man was ever called to endure. In a vision of

the night he was directed to repair to the land of Moriah, and there

offer up his son as a burnt-offering upon a mountain that should be

shown him.

At the time of receiving this command, Abraham had reached the age of a

hundred and twenty years. He was regarded as an old man, even in his

generation. In his earlier years he had been strong to endure hardship

and to brave danger; but now the ardor of his youth had passed away. One

in the vigor of manhood may with courage meet difficulties and

afflictions that would cause his heart to fail later in life, when his

feet are faltering toward the grave. But God had reserved his last, most

trying test for Abraham until the burden of years was heavy upon him,

and he longed for rest from anxiety and toil.

The patriarch was dwelling at Beersheba, surrounded by prosperity and

honor. He was very rich, and was honored as a mighty prince by the

rulers of the land. Thousands of sheep and cattle covered the plains

that spread out beyond his encampment. On every side were the tents of

his retainers, the home of hundreds of faithful servants. The son of

promise had grown up to manhood by his side. Heaven seemed to have

crowned with its blessing a life of sacrifice in patient endurance of

hope deferred.

In the obedience of faith, Abraham had forsaken his native country,—had

turned away from the graves of his fathers and the home of his kindred.

He had wandered as a stranger in the land of his inheritance. He had

waited long for the birth of the promised heir. At the command of God he

had sent away his son Ishmael. And now, when the child so long desired

was entering upon manhood, and the patriarch seemed able to discern the

fruition of his hopes, a trial greater than all others was before him.

The command was expressed in words that must have wrung with anguish

that father’s heart: “Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou

lovest, ... and offer him for a burnt-offering.”[202] Isaac was the

light of his home, the solace of his old age, above all else the

inheritor of the promised blessing. The loss of such a son by accident

or disease would have been heart-rending to the fond father; it would

have bowed down his whitened head with grief; but he was commanded to

shed the blood of that son with his own hand. It seemed to him a fearful

impossibility.

Satan was at hand to suggest that he must be deceived, for the divine

law commands, “Thou shalt not kill,” and God would not require what he

had once forbidden. Going outside his tent, Abraham looked up to the

calm brightness of the unclouded heavens, and recalled the promise made

nearly fifty years before, that his seed should be innumerable as the

stars. If this promise was to be fulfilled through Isaac, how could he

be put to death? Abraham was tempted to believe that he might be under a

delusion. In his doubt and anguish he bowed upon the earth, and prayed,

as he had never prayed before, for some confirmation of the command if

he must perform this terrible duty. He remembered the angels sent to

reveal to him God’s purpose to destroy Sodom, and who bore to him the

promise of this same son Isaac, and he went to the place where he had

several times met the heavenly messengers, hoping to meet them again,

and receive some further direction; but none came to his relief.

Darkness seemed to shut him in; but the command of God was sounding in

his ears, “Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest.”

That command must be obeyed, and he dared not delay. Day was

approaching, and he must be on his journey.

[Illustration: ABRAHAM VIEWING HIS SLEEPING SON. “For a moment the

father looked upon the dear face of his son, then turned tremblingly

away.”]

Returning to his tent, he went to the place where Isaac lay sleeping the

deep, untroubled sleep of youth and innocence. For a moment the father

looked upon the dear face of his son, then turned tremblingly away. He

went to the side of Sarah, who was also sleeping. Should he awaken her,

that she might once more embrace her child? Should he tell her of God’s

requirement? He longed to unburden his heart to her, and share with her

this terrible responsibility; but he was restrained by the fear that she

might hinder him. Isaac was her joy and pride; her life was bound up in

him, and the mother’s love might refuse the sacrifice.

Abraham at last summoned his son, telling him of the command to offer

sacrifice upon a distant mountain. Isaac had often gone with his father

to worship at some one of the various altars that marked his wanderings,

and this summons excited no surprise. The preparations for the journey

were quickly completed. The wood was made ready, and put upon the ass,

and with two men-servants they set forth.

Side by side the father and the son journeyed in silence. The patriarch,

pondering his heavy secret, had no heart for words. His thoughts were of

the proud, fond mother, and the day when he should return to her alone.

Well he knew that the knife would pierce her heart when it took the life

of her son.

That day—the longest that Abraham had ever experienced—dragged slowly to

its close. While his son and the young men were sleeping, he spent the

night in prayer, still hoping that some heavenly messenger might come to

say that the trial was enough, that the youth might return unharmed to

his mother. But no relief came to his tortured soul. Another long day,

another night of humiliation and prayer, while ever the command that was

to leave him childless was ringing in his ears. Satan was near to

whisper doubts and unbelief; but Abraham resisted his suggestions. As

they were about to begin the journey of the third day, the patriarch,

looking northward, saw the promised sign, a cloud of glory hovering over

Mount Moriah, and he knew that the voice which had spoken to him was

from heaven.

Even now he did not murmur against God, but strengthened his soul by

dwelling upon the evidences of the Lord’s goodness and faithfulness.

This son had been unexpectedly given; and had not He who bestowed the

precious gift a right to recall his own? Then faith repeated the

promise, “In Isaac shall thy seed be called,”[203]—a seed numberless as

the grains of sand upon the shore. Isaac was the child of a miracle, and

could not the power that gave him life restore it? Looking beyond that

which was seen, Abraham grasped the divine word, “accounting that God

was able to raise him up, even from the dead.”[204]

Yet none but God could understand how great was the father’s sacrifice

in yielding up his son to death; Abraham desired that none but God

should witness the parting scene. He bade his servants remain behind,

saying, “I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to

you.”[205] The wood was laid upon Isaac, the one to be offered, the

father took the knife and the fire, and together they ascended toward

the mountain summit, the young man silently wondering whence, so far

from folds and flocks, the offering was to come. At last he spoke, “My

father,” “behold the fire and the wood; but where is the lamb for a

burnt-offering?” O, what a test was this! How the endearing words, “my

father,” pierced Abraham’s heart! Not yet—he could not tell him now. “My

son,” he said, “God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt-offering.”

At the appointed place they built the altar, and laid the wood upon it.

Then, with trembling voice, Abraham unfolded to his son the divine

message. It was with terror and amazement that Isaac learned his fate;

but he offered no resistance. He could have escaped his doom, had he

chosen to do so; the grief-stricken old man, exhausted with the struggle

of those three terrible days, could not have opposed the will of the

vigorous youth. But Isaac had been trained from childhood to ready,

trusting obedience, and as the purpose of God was opened before him, he

yielded a willing submission. He was a sharer in Abraham’s faith, and he

felt that he was honored in being called to give his life as an offering

to God. He tenderly seeks to lighten the father’s grief, and encourages

his nerveless hands to bind the cords that confine him to the altar.

And now the last words of love are spoken, the last tears are shed, the

last embrace is given. The father lifts the knife to slay his son, when

suddenly his arm is stayed. An angel of God calls to the patriarch out

of heaven, “Abraham, Abraham!” He quickly answers, “Here am I.” And

again the voice is heard, “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.”[206]

Then Abraham saw “a ram caught in a thicket,” and quickly bringing the

new victim, he offered it “in the stead of his son.” In his joy and

gratitude, Abraham gave a new name to the sacred spot,—“Jehovah-jireh,”

“the Lord will provide.”

On Mount Moriah, God again renewed his covenant, confirming with a

solemn oath the blessing to Abraham and to his seed through all coming

generations: “By myself have I sworn, saith Jehovah, for because thou

hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son,

that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply

thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the

sea-shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; and in

thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou

hast obeyed my voice.”

Abraham’s great act of faith stands like a pillar of light, illuminating

the pathway of God’s servants in all succeeding ages. Abraham did not

seek to excuse himself from doing the will of God. During that three

days’ journey he had sufficient time to reason, and to doubt God, if he

was disposed to doubt. He might have reasoned that the slaying of his

son would cause him to be looked upon as a murderer, a second Cain; that

it would cause his teaching to be rejected and despised, and thus

destroy his power to do good to his fellow-men. He might have pleaded

that age should excuse him from obedience. But the patriarch did not

take refuge in any of these excuses. Abraham was human; his passions and

attachments were like ours; but he did not stop to question how the

promise could be fulfilled if Isaac should be slain. He did not stay to

reason with his aching heart. He knew that God is just and righteous in

all his requirements, and he obeyed the command to the very letter.

“Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness;

and he was called the friend of God.”[207] And Paul says, “They which

are of faith, the same are the children of Abraham.”[208] But Abraham’s

faith was made manifest by his works. “Was not Abraham our father

justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar?

Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made

perfect?”[207] There are many who fail to understand the relation of

faith and works. They say, “Only believe in Christ, and you are safe.

You have nothing to do with keeping the law.” But genuine faith will be

manifest in obedience. Said Christ to the unbelieving Jews, “If ye were

Abraham’s children, ye would do the works of Abraham.”[209] And

concerning the father of the faithful the Lord declares, “Abraham obeyed

my voice, and kept my charge, my commandments, my statutes, and my

laws.”[210] Says the apostle James, “Faith, if it hath not works, is

dead, being alone.”[211] And John, who dwells so fully upon love, tells

us, “This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments.”[212]

Through type and promise, God “preached before the gospel unto

Abraham.”[213] And the patriarch’s faith was fixed upon the Redeemer to

come. Said Christ to the Jews, “Your father Abraham rejoiced that he

should see my day; and he saw it, and was glad.”[214] The ram offered in

the place of Isaac represented the Son of God, who was to be sacrificed

in our stead. When man was doomed to death by transgression of the law

of God, the Father, looking upon his Son, said to the sinner, “Live: I

have found a ransom.”

It was to impress Abraham’s mind with the reality of the gospel, as well

as to test his faith, that God commanded him to slay his son. The agony

which he endured during the dark days of that fearful trial, was

permitted that he might understand from his own experience something of

the greatness of the sacrifice made by the infinite God for man’s

redemption. No other test could have caused Abraham such torture of soul

as did the offering of his son. God gave his Son to a death of agony and

shame. The angels who witnessed the humiliation and soul-anguish of the

Son of God were not permitted to interpose, as in the case of Isaac.

There was no voice to cry, “It is enough.” To save the fallen race, the

King of glory yielded up his life. What stronger proof can be given of

the infinite compassion and love of God? “He that spared not his own

Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also

freely give us all things?”[215]

The sacrifice required of Abraham was not alone for his own good, nor

solely for the benefit of succeeding generations; but it was also for

the instruction of the sinless intelligences of heaven and of other

worlds. The field of the controversy between Christ and Satan,—the field

on which the plan of redemption is wrought out,—is the lesson-book of

the universe. Because Abraham had shown a lack of faith in God’s

promises, Satan had accused him before the angels and before God of

having failed to comply with the conditions of the covenant, and as

unworthy of its blessings. God desired to prove the loyalty of his

servant before all heaven, to demonstrate that nothing less than perfect

obedience can be accepted, and to open more fully before them the plan

of salvation.

Heavenly beings were witnesses of the scene as the faith of Abraham and

the submission of Isaac were tested. The trial was far more severe than

that which had been brought upon Adam. Compliance with the prohibition

laid upon our first parents involved no suffering; but the command to

Abraham demanded the most agonizing sacrifice. All heaven beheld with

wonder and admiration Abraham’s unfaltering obedience. All heaven

applauded his fidelity. Satan’s accusations were shown to be false. God

declared to his servant, “Now I know that thou fearest God

[notwithstanding Satan’s charges], seeing thou hast not withheld thy

son, thine only son, from me.” God’s covenant, confirmed to Abraham by

an oath before the intelligences of other worlds, testified that

obedience will be rewarded.

It had been difficult even for the angels to grasp the mystery of

redemption,—to comprehend that the Commander of heaven, the Son of God,

must die for guilty man. When the command was given to Abraham to offer

up his son, the interest of all heavenly beings was enlisted. With

intense earnestness they watched each step in the fulfillment of this

command. When to Isaac’s question, “Where is the lamb for a

burnt-offering?” Abraham made answer, “God will provide himself a lamb;”

and when the father’s hand was stayed as he was about to slay his son,

and the ram which God had provided was offered in the place of

Isaac,—then light was shed upon the mystery of redemption, and even the

angels understood more clearly the wonderful provision that God had made

for man’s salvation.[216]

Footnote 200:

Gen. 16:6-13.

Footnote 201:

Gen. 17:18-20.

Footnote 202:

Gen. 22:2.

Footnote 203:

Gen. 21:12.

Footnote 204:

Heb. 11:19.

Footnote 205:

Gen. 22:5-8.

Footnote 206:

Gen. 22:11-18.

Footnote 207:

James 2:23, 21, 22.

Footnote 208:

Gal. 3:7.

Footnote 209:

John 8:39.

Footnote 210:

Gen. 26:5.

Footnote 211:

James 2:17.

Footnote 212:

1 John 5:3.

Footnote 213:

Gal. 3:8.

Footnote 214:

John 8:56, Rev. Ver. (margin).

Footnote 215:

Rom. 8:32.

Footnote 216:

1 Peter 1:12.

DESTRUCTION OF SODOM—14

Fairest among the cities of the Jordan valley was Sodom, set in a plain

which was “as the garden of the Lord”[220] in its fertility and beauty.

Here the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics flourished. Here was the

home of the palm-tree, the olive, and the vine; and flowers shed their

fragrance throughout the year. Rich harvests clothed the fields, and

flocks and herds covered the encircling hills. Art and commerce

contributed to enrich the proud city of the plain. The treasures of the

East adorned her palaces, and the caravans of the desert brought their

stores of precious things to supply her marts of trade. With little

thought or labor, every want of life could be supplied, and the whole

year seemed one round of festivity.

The profusion reigning everywhere gave birth to luxury and pride.

Idleness and riches make the heart hard that has never been oppressed by

want or burdened by sorrow. The love of pleasure was fostered by wealth

and leisure, and the people gave themselves up to sensual indulgence.

“Behold,” says the prophet, “this was the iniquity of thy sister Sodom,

pride, fullness of bread, and abundance of idleness was in her and in

her daughters, neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and

needy. And they were haughty, and committed abomination before me;

therefore I took them away as I saw good.”[221] There is nothing more

desired among men than riches and leisure, and yet these gave birth to

the sins that brought destruction upon the cities of the plain. Their

useless, idle life made them a prey to Satan’s temptations, and they

defaced the image of God, and became satanic rather than divine.

Idleness is the greatest curse that can fall upon man; for vice and

crime follow in its train. It enfeebles the mind, perverts the

understanding, and debases the soul. Satan lies in ambush, ready to

destroy those who are unguarded, whose leisure gives him opportunity to

insinuate himself under some attractive disguise. He is never more

successful than when he comes to men in their idle hours.

In Sodom there was mirth and revelry, feasting and drunkenness. The

vilest and most brutal passions were unrestrained. The people openly

defied God and his law, and delighted in deeds of violence. Though they

had before them the example of the antediluvian world, and knew how the

wrath of God had been manifested in their destruction, yet they followed

the same course of wickedness.

At the time of Lot’s removal to Sodom, corruption had not become

universal, and God in his mercy permitted rays of light to shine amid

the moral darkness. When Abraham rescued the captives from the Elamites,

the attention of the people was called to the true faith. Abraham was

not a stranger to the people of Sodom, and his worship of the unseen God

had been a matter of ridicule among them; but his victory over greatly

superior forces, and his magnanimous disposition of the prisoners and

spoil, excited wonder and admiration. While his skill and valor were

extolled, none could avoid the conviction that a divine power had made

him conqueror. And his noble and unselfish spirit, so foreign to the

self-seeking inhabitants of Sodom, was another evidence of the

superiority of the religion which he had honored by his courage and

fidelity.

Melchizedek, in bestowing the benediction upon Abraham, had acknowledged

Jehovah as the source of his strength and the author of the victory:

“Blessed be Abram of the most high God, possessor of heaven and earth;

and blessed be the most high God, which hath delivered thine enemies

into thy hand.”[222] God was speaking to that people by his providence,

but the last ray of light was rejected as all before had been.

And now the last night of Sodom was approaching. Already the clouds of

vengeance cast their shadows over the devoted city. But men perceived it

not. While angels drew near on their mission of destruction, men were

dreaming of prosperity and pleasure. The last day was like every other

that had come and gone. Evening fell upon a scene of loveliness and

security. A landscape of unrivaled beauty was bathed in the rays of the

declining sun. The coolness of eventide had called forth the inhabitants

of the city, and the pleasure-seeking throngs were passing to and fro,

intent upon the enjoyment of the hour.

In the twilight, two strangers drew near to the city gate. They were

apparently travelers coming in to tarry for the night. None could

discern in those humble wayfarers the mighty heralds of divine judgment,

and little dreamed the gay, careless multitude that in their treatment

of these heavenly messengers that very night they would reach the climax

of the guilt which doomed their proud city. But there was one man who

manifested kindly attention toward the strangers, and invited them to

his home. Lot did not know their true character, but politeness and

hospitality were habitual with him; they were a part of his

religion,—lessons that he had learned from the example of Abraham. Had

he not cultivated a spirit of courtesy, he might have been left to

perish with the rest of Sodom. Many a household, in closing its doors

against a stranger, has shut out God’s messenger, who would have brought

blessing and hope and peace.

Every act of life, however small, has its bearing for good or for evil.

Faithfulness or neglect in what are apparently the smallest duties may

open the door for life’s richest blessings or its greatest calamities.

It is little things that test the character. It is the unpretending acts

of daily self-denial, performed with a cheerful, willing heart, that God

smiles upon. We are not to live for self, but for others. And it is only

by self-forgetfulness, by cherishing a loving, helpful spirit, that we

can make our life a blessing. The little attentions, the small, simple

courtesies, go far to make up the sum of life’s happiness, and the

neglect of these constitutes no small share of human wretchedness.

Seeing the abuse to which strangers were exposed in Sodom, Lot made it

one of his duties to guard them at their entrance, by offering them

entertainment at his own house. He was sitting at the gate as the

travelers approached, and upon observing them, he rose from his place to

meet them, and bowing courteously, said, “Behold now, my lords, turn in,

I pray you, into your servant’s house, and tarry all night.”[223] They

seemed to decline his hospitality, saying, “Nay; but we will abide in

the street.” Their object in this answer was twofold,—to test the

sincerity of Lot, and also to appear ignorant of the character of the

men of Sodom, as if they supposed it safe to remain in the street at

night. Their answer made Lot the more determined not to leave them to

the mercy of the rabble. He pressed his invitation until they yielded,

and accompanied him to his house.

He had hoped to conceal his intention from the idlers at the gate by

bringing the strangers to his home by a circuitous route; but their

hesitation and delay, and his persistent urging, caused them to be

observed, and before they had retired for the night, a lawless crowd

gathered about the house. It was an immense company, youth and aged men

alike inflamed by the vilest passions. The strangers had been making

inquiry in regard to the character of the city, and Lot had warned them

not to venture out of his door that night, when the hooting and jeers of

the mob were heard, demanding that the men be brought out to them.

Knowing that if provoked to violence they could easily break into his

house, Lot went out to try the effect of persuasion upon them. “I pray

you, brethren,” he said, “do not so wickedly,” using the term “brethren”

in the sense of neighbors, and hoping to conciliate them, and make them

ashamed of their vile purposes. But his words were like oil upon the

flames. Their rage became like the roaring of a tempest. They mocked Lot

as making himself a judge over them, and threatened to deal worse with

him than they had purposed toward his guests. They rushed upon him, and

would have torn him in pieces had he not been rescued by the angels of

God. The heavenly messengers “put forth their hand, and pulled Lot into

the house to them, and shut to the door.” The events that followed,

revealed the character of the guests he had entertained. “They smote the

men that were at the door of the house with blindness, both small and

great; so that they wearied themselves to find the door.” Had they not

been visited with double blindness, being given up to hardness of heart,

the stroke of God upon them would have caused them to fear, and to

desist from their evil work. That last night was marked by no greater

sins than many others before it; but mercy, so long slighted, had at

last ceased its pleading. The inhabitants of Sodom had passed the limits

of divine forbearance,—“the hidden boundary between God’s patience and

his wrath.” The fires of his vengeance were about to be kindled in the

vale of Siddim.

The angels revealed to Lot the object of their mission: “We will destroy

this place, because the cry of them is waxen great before the face of

the Lord; and the Lord hath sent us to destroy it.” The strangers whom

Lot had endeavored to protect, now promised to protect him, and to save

also all the members of his family who would flee with him from the

wicked city. The mob had wearied themselves out and departed, and Lot

went out to warn his children. He repeated the words of the angels, “Up,

get you out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city.” But he

seemed to them as one that mocked. They laughed at what they called his

superstitious fears. His daughters were influenced by their husbands.

They were well enough off where they were. They could see no evidence of

danger. Everything was just as it had been. They had great possessions,

and they could not believe it possible that beautiful Sodom would be

destroyed.

Lot returned sorrowfully to his home, and told the story of his failure.

Then the angels bade him arise, and take his wife and the two daughters

who were yet in his house, and leave the city. But Lot delayed. Though

daily distressed at beholding deeds of violence, he had no true

conception of the debasing and abominable iniquity practiced in that

vile city. He did not realize the terrible necessity for God’s judgments

to put a check on sin. Some of his children clung to Sodom, and his wife

refused to depart without them. The thought of leaving those whom he

held dearest on earth seemed more than he could bear. It was hard to

forsake his luxurious home, and all the wealth acquired by the labors of

his whole life, to go forth a destitute wanderer. Stupefied with sorrow,

he lingered, loth to depart. But for the angels of God, they would all

have perished in the ruin of Sodom. The heavenly messengers took him and

his wife and daughters by the hand, and led them out of the city.

Here the angels left them, and turned back to Sodom to accomplish their

work of destruction. Another—He with whom Abraham had pleaded—drew near

to Lot. In all the cities of the plain, even ten righteous persons had

not been found; but in answer to the patriarch’s prayer, the one man who

feared God was snatched from destruction. The command was given with

startling vehemence: “Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither

stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain, lest thou be

consumed.” Hesitancy or delay now would be fatal. To cast one lingering

look upon the devoted city, to tarry for one moment, from regret to

leave so beautiful a home, would have cost their life. The storm of

divine judgment was only waiting that these poor fugitives might make

their escape.

But Lot, confused and terrified, pleaded that he could not do as he was

required, lest some evil should overtake him, and he should die. Living

in that wicked city, in the midst of unbelief, his faith had grown dim.

The Prince of heaven was by his side, yet he pleaded for his own life as

though God, who had manifested such care and love for him, would not

still preserve him. He should have trusted himself wholly to the divine

Messenger, giving his will and his life into the Lord’s hands without a

doubt or a question. But like so many others, he endeavored to plan for

himself: “Behold now, this city is near to flee unto, and it is a little

one. O let me escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul

shall live.” The city here mentioned was Bela, afterward called Zoar. It

was but a few miles from Sodom, and like it was corrupt, and doomed to

destruction. But Lot asked that it might be spared, urging that this was

but a small request; and his desire was granted. The Lord assured him,

“I have accepted thee concerning this thing also, that I will not

overthrow this city, for the which thou hast spoken.” O, how great the

mercy of God toward his erring creatures!

Again the solemn command was given to hasten, for the fiery storm would

be delayed but little longer. But one of the fugitives ventured to cast

a look backward to the doomed city, and she became a monument of God’s

judgment. If Lot himself had manifested no hesitancy to obey the angels’

warning, but had earnestly fled toward the mountains, without one word

of pleading or remonstrance, his wife also would have made her escape.

The influence of his example would have saved her from the sin that

sealed her doom. But his hesitancy and delay caused her to lightly

regard the divine warning. While her body was upon the plain, her heart

clung to Sodom, and she perished with it. She rebelled against God

because his judgments involved her possessions and her children in the

ruin. Although so greatly favored in being called out from the wicked

city, she felt that she was severely dealt with, because the wealth that

it had taken years to accumulate must be left to destruction. Instead of

thankfully accepting deliverance, she presumptuously looked back to

desire the life of those who had rejected the divine warning. Her sin

showed her to be unworthy of life, for the preservation of which she

felt so little gratitude.

We should beware of treating lightly God’s gracious provisions for our

salvation. There are Christians who say, “I do not care to be saved

unless my companion and children are saved with me.” They feel that

heaven would not be heaven to them, without the presence of those who

are so dear. But have those who cherish this feeling a right conception

of their own relation to God, in view of his great goodness and mercy

toward them? Have they forgotten that they are bound, by the strongest

ties of love and honor and loyalty, to the service of their Creator and

Redeemer? The invitations of mercy are addressed to all; and because our

friends reject the Saviour’s pleading love, shall we also turn away? The

redemption of the soul is precious. Christ has paid an infinite price

for our salvation, and no one who appreciates the value of this great

sacrifice, or the worth of the soul, will despise God’s offered mercy

because others choose to do so. The very fact that others are ignoring

his just claims should arouse us to greater diligence, that we may honor

God ourselves, and lead all whom we can influence, to accept his love.

“The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered into Zoar.” The

bright rays of the morning seemed to speak only prosperity and peace to

the cities of the plain. The stir of active life began in the streets;

men were going their various ways, intent on the business or the

pleasures of the day. The sons-in-law of Lot were making merry at the

fears and warnings of the weak-minded old man. Suddenly and unexpectedly

as would be a thunder peal from an unclouded sky, the tempest broke. The

Lord rained brimstone and fire out of heaven upon the cities and the

fruitful plain; its palaces and temples, costly dwellings, gardens and

vineyards, and the gay, pleasure-seeking throngs that only the night

before had insulted the messengers of heaven,—all were consumed. The

smoke of the conflagration went up like the smoke of a great furnace.

And the fair vale of Siddim became a desolation, a place never to be

built up or inhabited,—a witness to all generations of the certainty of

God’s judgments upon transgression.

[Illustration: THE FLIGHT FROM SODOM. “To cast one lingering look upon

the devoted city, to tarry for one moment ... would have cost their

life.”]

The flames that consumed the cities of the plain shed their warning

light down even to our time. We are taught the fearful and solemn lesson

that while God’s mercy bears long with the transgressor, there is a

limit beyond which men may not go on in sin. When that limit is reached,

then the offers of mercy are withdrawn, and the ministration of judgment

begins.

The Redeemer of the world declares that there are greater sins than that

for which Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. Those who hear the gospel

invitation calling sinners to repentance, and heed it not, are more

guilty before God than were the dwellers in the vale of Siddim. And

still greater sin is theirs who profess to know God and to keep his

commandments, yet who deny Christ in their character and their daily

life. In the light of the Saviour’s warning, the fate of Sodom is a

solemn admonition, not merely to those who are guilty of outbreaking

sin, but to all who are trifling with Heaven-sent light and privileges.

Said the True Witness to the church of Ephesus: “I have somewhat against

thee, because thou hast left thy first love. Remember therefore from

whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I

will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his

place, except thou repent.”[224] The Saviour watches for a response to

his offers of love and forgiveness, with a more tender compassion than

that which moves the heart of an earthly parent to forgive a wayward,

suffering son. He cries after the wanderer, “Return unto me, and I will

return unto you.”[225] But if the erring one persistently refuses to

heed the voice that calls him with pitying, tender love, he will at last

be left in darkness. The heart that has long slighted God’s mercy,

becomes hardened in sin, and is no longer susceptible to the influence

of the grace of God. Fearful will be the doom of that soul of whom the

pleading Saviour shall finally declare, He “is joined to idols; let him

alone.”[226] It will be more tolerable in the day of Judgment for the

cities of the plain than for those who have known the love of Christ,

and yet have turned away to choose the pleasures of a world of sin.

You who are slighting the offers of mercy, think of the long array of

figures accumulating against you in the books of heaven; for there is a

record kept of the impieties of nations, of families, of individuals.

God may bear long while the account goes on, and calls to repentance and

offers of pardon may be given; yet a time will come when the account

will be full; when the soul’s decision has been made; when by his own

choice, man’s destiny has been fixed. Then the signal will be given for

judgment to be executed.

There is cause for alarm in the condition of the religious world to-day.

God’s mercy has been trifled with. The multitude make void the law of

Jehovah, “teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.”[227]

Infidelity prevails in many of the churches in our land; not infidelity

in its broadest sense,—an open denial of the Bible,—but an infidelity

that is robed in the garb of Christianity, while it is undermining faith

in the Bible as a revelation from God. Fervent devotion and vital piety

have given place to hollow formalism. As the result, apostasy and

sensualism prevail. Christ declared, “As it was in the days of Lot, ...

even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.”[228]

The daily record of passing events testifies to the fulfillment of his

words. The world is fast becoming ripe for destruction. Soon the

judgments of God are to be poured out, and sin and sinners are to be

consumed.

Said our Saviour: “Take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts

be overcharged with surfeiting, and drunkenness, and cares of this life,

and so that day come upon you unawares. For as a snare shall it come on

all them that dwell on the face of the whole earth,”—upon all whose

interests are centered in this world. “Watch ye therefore, and pray

always, that ye may be accounted worthy to escape all these things that

shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man.”[229]

Before the destruction of Sodom, God sent a message to Lot, “Escape for

thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain;

escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed.” The same voice of

warning was heard by the disciples of Christ before the destruction of

Jerusalem: “When ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know

that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which are in Judea

flee to the mountains.”[230] They must not tarry to secure anything from

their possessions, but must make the most of the opportunity to escape.

There was a coming out, a decided separation from the wicked, an escape

for life. So it was in the days of Noah; so with Lot; so with the

disciples prior to the destruction of Jerusalem; and so it will be in

the last days. Again the voice of God is heard in a message of warning,

bidding his people separate themselves from the prevailing iniquity.

The state of corruption and apostasy that in the last days would exist

in the religious world, was presented to the prophet John, in the vision

of Babylon, “that great city, which reigneth over the kings of the

earth.”[231] Before its destruction the call is to be given from heaven,

“Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and

that ye receive not of her plagues.”[232] As in the days of Noah and

Lot, there must be a marked separation from sin and sinners. There can

be no compromise between God and the world, no turning back to secure

earthly treasures. “Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”[233]

Like the dwellers in the vale of Siddim, the people are dreaming of

prosperity and peace. “Escape for thy life,” is the warning from the

angels of God; but other voices are heard saying, “Be not excited; there

is no cause for alarm.” The multitudes cry, “Peace and safety,” while

Heaven declares that swift destruction is about to come upon the

transgressor. On the night prior to their destruction, the cities of the

plain rioted in pleasure, and derided the fears and warnings of the

messenger of God; but those scoffers perished in the flames; that very

night the door of mercy was forever closed to the wicked, careless

inhabitants of Sodom. God will not always be mocked; he will not long be

trifled with. “Behold, the day of the Lord cometh, cruel both with wrath

and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate; and he shall destroy the

sinners thereof out of it.”[234] The great mass of the world will reject

God’s mercy, and will be overwhelmed in swift and irretrievable ruin.

But those who heed the warning, shall dwell “in the secret place of the

Most High,” and “abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” His truth

shall be their shield and buckler. For them is the promise, “With long

life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation.”[235]

Lot dwelt but a short time in Zoar. Iniquity prevailed there as in

Sodom, and he feared to remain, lest the city should be destroyed. Not

long after, Zoar was consumed, as God had purposed. Lot made his way to

the mountains, and abode in a cave, stripped of all for which he had

dared to subject his family to the influences of a wicked city. But the

curse of Sodom followed him even here. The sinful conduct of his

daughters was the result of the evil associations of that vile place.

Its moral corruption had become so interwoven with their character that

they could not distinguish between good and evil. Lot’s only posterity,

the Moabites and Ammonites, were vile, idolatrous tribes, rebels against

God, and bitter enemies of his people.

In how wide contrast to the life of Abraham was that of Lot! Once they

had been companions, worshiping at one altar, dwelling side by side in

their pilgrim tents; but how widely separated now! Lot had chosen Sodom

for its pleasure and profit. Leaving Abraham’s altar and its daily

sacrifice to the living God, he had permitted his children to mingle

with a corrupt and idolatrous people; yet he had retained in his heart

the fear of God, for he is declared in the Scriptures to have been a

“just” man; his righteous soul was vexed with the vile conversation that

greeted his ears daily, and the violence and crime he was powerless to

prevent. He was saved at last as “a brand plucked out of the fire,”[236]

yet stripped of his possessions, bereaved of his wife and children,

dwelling in caves, like the wild beasts, covered with infamy in his old

age; and he gave to the world, not a race of righteous men, but two

idolatrous nations, at enmity with God and warring upon his people,

until, their cup of iniquity being full, they were appointed to

destruction. How terrible were the results that followed one unwise

step!

Says the wise man, “Labor not to be rich; cease from thine own wisdom.”

“He that is greedy of gain troubleth his own house; but he that hateth

gifts shall live.” And the apostle Paul declares, “They that will be

rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful

lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.”[237]

When Lot entered Sodom, he fully intended to keep himself free from

iniquity, and to command his household after him. But he signally

failed. The corrupting influences about him had an effect upon his own

faith, and his children’s connection with the inhabitants of Sodom bound

up his interest in a measure with theirs. The result is before us.

Many are still making a similar mistake. In selecting a home they look

more to the temporal advantages they may gain than to the moral and

social influences that will surround themselves and their families. They

choose a beautiful and fertile country, or remove to some flourishing

city, in the hope of securing greater prosperity; but their children are

surrounded by temptation, and too often they form associations that are

unfavorable to the development of piety and the formation of a right

character. The atmosphere of lax morality, of unbelief, of indifference

to religious things, has a tendency to counteract the influence of the

parents. Examples of rebellion against parental and divine authority are

ever before the youth; many form attachments for infidels and

unbelievers, and cast in their lot with the enemies of God.

In choosing a home, God would have us consider, first of all, the moral

and religious influences that will surround us and our families. We may

be placed in trying positions, for many cannot have their surroundings

what they would; and wherever duty calls us, God will enable us to stand

uncorrupted, if we watch and pray, trusting in the grace of Christ. But

we should not needlessly expose ourselves to influences that are

unfavorable to the formation of Christian character. When we voluntarily

place ourselves in an atmosphere of worldliness and unbelief, we

displease God, and drive holy angels from our homes.

Those who secure for their children worldly wealth and honor at the

expense of their eternal interests, will find in the end that these

advantages are a terrible loss. Like Lot, many see their children

ruined, and barely save their own souls. Their life-work is lost; their

life is a sad failure. Had they exercised true wisdom, their children

might have had less of worldly prosperity, but they would have made sure

of a title to the immortal inheritance.

The heritage that God has promised to his people is not in this world.

Abraham had no possession in the earth, “no, not so much as to set his

foot on.”[238] He possessed great substance, and he used it to the glory

of God and the good of his fellow-men; but he did not look upon this

world as his home. The Lord had called him to leave his idolatrous

countrymen, with the promise of the land of Canaan as an everlasting

possession; yet neither he nor his son nor his son’s son received it.

When Abraham desired a burial-place for his dead, he had to buy it of

the Canaanites. His sole possession in the land of promise was that

rock-hewn tomb in the cave of Machpelah.

But the word of God had not failed; neither did it meet its final

accomplishment in the occupation of Canaan by the Jewish people. “To

Abraham and his seed were the promises made.”[239] Abraham himself was

to share the inheritance. The fulfillment of God’s promise may seem to

be long delayed—for “one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a

thousand years as one day;”[240] it may appear to tarry; but at the

appointed time “it will surely come, it will not tarry.”[241] The gift

to Abraham and his seed included not merely the land of Canaan, but the

whole earth. So says the apostle, “The promise, that he should be the

_heir of the world_, was not to Abraham, or to his seed, through the

law, but through the righteousness of faith.”[242] And the Bible plainly

teaches that the promises made to Abraham are to be fulfilled through

Christ. All that are Christ’s are “Abraham’s seed, and heirs according

to the promise,”—heirs to “an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled,

and that fadeth not away,”[243]—the earth freed from the curse of sin.

For “the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under

the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most

High;” and “the meek shall inherit the earth, and shall delight

themselves in the abundance of peace.”[244]

God gave to Abraham a view of this immortal inheritance, and with this

hope he was content. “By faith he sojourned in the land of promise, as

in a strange country, dwelling in tabernacles with Isaac and Jacob, the

heirs with him of the same promise: for he looked for a city which hath

foundations, whose builder and maker is God.”[245]

Of the posterity of Abraham it is written, “These all died in faith, not

having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were

persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were

strangers and pilgrims on the earth.”[245] We must dwell as pilgrims and

strangers here if we would gain “a better country, that is, a heavenly.”

Those who are children of Abraham will be seeking the city which he

looked for, “whose builder and maker is God.”

Footnote 220:

Gen. 13:10.

Footnote 221:

Eze. 16:49, 50.

Footnote 222:

Gen. 14:19, 20.

Footnote 223:

See Genesis 19.

Footnote 224:

Rev. 2:4, 5.

Footnote 225:

Mal. 3:7.

Footnote 226:

Hosea 4:17.

Footnote 227:

Matt. 15:9.

Footnote 228:

Luke 17:28, 30.

Footnote 229:

Luke 21:34-36.

Footnote 230:

Gen. 19:17; Luke 21:20, 21.

Footnote 231:

Rev. 17:18.

Footnote 232:

Rev. 18:4.

Footnote 233:

Matt. 6:24.

Footnote 234:

Isa. 13:9.

Footnote 235:

Ps. 91: 1, 4, 16.

Footnote 236:

Zech. 3:2.

Footnote 237:

Prov. 23:4; 15:27; 1 Tim. 6:9.

Footnote 238:

Acts 7:5.

Footnote 239:

Gal. 3:16.

Footnote 240:

2 Peter 3:8.

Footnote 241:

Hab. 2:3.

Footnote 242:

Rom. 4:13.

Footnote 243:

Gal. 3:29; 1 Peter 1:4.

Footnote 244:

Dan. 7:27; Ps. 37:11.

Footnote 245:

Heb. 11:9, 10, 13, 16.

THE MARRIAGE OF ISAAC—15

Abraham had become an old man, and expected soon to die, yet one act

remained for him to do, in securing the fulfillment of the promise to

his posterity. Isaac was the one divinely appointed to succeed him as

the keeper of the law of God, and the father of the chosen people; but

he was yet unmarried. The inhabitants of Canaan were given to idolatry,

and God had forbidden intermarriage between his people and them, knowing

that such marriages would lead to apostasy. The patriarch feared the

effect of the corrupting influences surrounding his son. Abraham’s

habitual faith in God and submission to his will were reflected in the

character of Isaac; but the young man’s affections were strong, and he

was gentle and yielding in disposition. If united with one who did not

fear God, he would be in danger of sacrificing principle for the sake of

harmony. In the mind of Abraham, the choice of a wife for his son was a

matter of grave importance; he was anxious to have him marry one who

would not lead him from God.

In ancient times, marriage engagements were generally made by the

parents; and this was the custom among those who worshiped God. None

were required to marry those whom they could not love; but in the

bestowal of their affections the youth were guided by the judgment of

their experienced, God-fearing parents. It was regarded as a dishonor to

parents, and even a crime, to pursue a course contrary to this.

Isaac, trusting to his father’s wisdom and affection, was satisfied to

commit the matter to him, believing also that God himself would direct

in the choice made. The patriarch’s thoughts turned to his father’s

kindred in the land of Mesopotamia. Though not free from idolatry, they

cherished the knowledge and the worship of the true God. Isaac must not

leave Canaan to go to them; but it might be that among them could be

found one who would leave her home, and unite with him in maintaining

the pure worship of the living God. Abraham committed the important

matter to “his eldest servant,” a man of piety, experience, and sound

judgment, who had rendered him long and faithful service. He required

this servant to make a solemn oath before the Lord, that he would not

take a wife for Isaac of the Canaanites, but would choose a maiden from

the family of Nahor in Mesopotamia. He charged him not to take Isaac

thither. If a damsel could not be found who would leave her kindred,

then the messenger would be released from his oath. The patriarch

encouraged him in his difficult and delicate undertaking, with the

assurance that God would crown his mission with success. “The Lord God

of heaven,” he said, “which took me from my father’s house, and from the

land of my kindred, ... he shall send his angel before thee.”[250]

The messenger set out without delay. Taking with him ten camels for the

use of his own company and the bridal party that might return with him,

provided also with gifts for the intended wife and her friends, he made

the long journey beyond Damascus, and onward to the rich plains that

border on the great river of the East. Arrived at Haran, “the city of

Nahor,” he halted outside the walls, near the well to which the women of

the place came at evening for water. It was a time of anxious thought

with him. Important results, not only to his master’s household but to

future generations, might follow from the choice he made; and how was he

to choose wisely among entire strangers? Remembering the words of

Abraham, that God would send his angel with him, he prayed earnestly for

positive guidance. In the family of his master he was accustomed to the

constant exercise of kindness and hospitality, and he now asked that an

act of courtesy might indicate the maiden whom God had chosen.

Hardly was the prayer uttered before the answer was given. Among the

women who were gathered at the well, the courteous manners of one

attracted his attention. As she came from the well, the stranger went to

meet her, asking for some water from the pitcher upon her shoulder. The

request received a kindly answer, with an offer to draw water for the

camels also, a service which it was customary even for the daughters of

princes to perform for their fathers’ flocks and herds. Thus the desired

sign was given. The maiden “was very fair to look upon,” and her ready

courtesy gave evidence of a kind heart, and an active, energetic nature.

Thus far the divine hand had been with him. After acknowledging her

kindness by rich gifts, the messenger asked her parentage, and on

learning that she was the daughter of Bethuel, Abraham’s nephew, “he

bowed down his head, and worshiped the Lord.”

The man had asked for entertainment at her father’s house, and in his

expressions of thanksgiving had revealed the fact of his connection with

Abraham. Returning home, the maiden told what had happened, and Laban,

her brother, at once hastened to bring the stranger and his attendants

to share their hospitality.

Eliezer would not partake of food until he had told his errand, his

prayer at the well, with all the circumstances attending it. Then he

said, “And now, if ye will deal kindly and truly with my master, tell

me; and if not, tell me; that I may turn to the right hand, or to the

left.” The answer was, “The thing proceedeth from the Lord; we cannot

speak unto thee bad or good. Behold, Rebekah is before thee; take her,

and go, and let her be thy master’s son’s wife, as the Lord hath

spoken.”

After the consent of the family had been obtained, Rebekah herself was

consulted as to whether she would go to so great a distance from her

father’s house, to marry the son of Abraham. She believed, from what had

taken place, that God had selected her to be Isaac’s wife, and she said,

“I will go.”

The servant, anticipating his master’s joy at the success of his

mission, was impatient to be gone; and with the morning they set out on

the homeward journey. Abraham dwelt at Beersheba, and Isaac, who had

been attending to the flocks in the adjoining country, had returned to

his father’s tent to await the arrival of the messenger from Haran. “And

Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the eventide; and he lifted

up his eyes, and saw, and, behold, the camels were coming. And Rebekah

lifted up her eyes, and when she saw Isaac she lighted off the camel.

For she had said unto the servant, What man is this that walketh in the

field to meet us? And the servant had said, It is my master; therefore

she took a vail, and covered herself. And the servant told Isaac all

things that he had done. And Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah’s

tent, and took Rebekah, and she became his wife; and he loved her: and

Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.”

Abraham had marked the result of the intermarriage of those who feared

God and those who feared him not, from the days of Cain to his own time.

The consequences of his own marriage with Hagar, and of the marriage

connections of Ishmael and Lot, were before him. The lack of faith on

the part of Abraham and Sarah, had resulted in the birth of Ishmael, the

mingling of the righteous seed with the ungodly. The father’s influence

upon his son was counteracted by that of the mother’s idolatrous

kindred, and by Ishmael’s connection with heathen wives. The jealousy of

Hagar, and of the wives whom she chose for Ishmael, surrounded his

family with a barrier that Abraham endeavored in vain to overcome.

Abraham’s early teachings had not been without effect upon Ishmael, but

the influence of his wives resulted in establishing idolatry in his

family. Separated from his father, and imbittered by the strife and

contention of a home destitute of the love and fear of God, Ishmael was

driven to choose the wild, marauding life of the desert chief, “his hand

against every man, and every man’s hand against him.”[251] In his latter

days he repented of his evil ways, and returned to his father’s God; but

the stamp of character given to his posterity remained. The powerful

nation descended from him were a turbulent, heathen people, who were

ever an annoyance and affliction to the descendants of Isaac.

The wife of Lot was a selfish, irreligious woman, and her influence was

exerted to separate her husband from Abraham. But for her, Lot would not

have remained in Sodom, deprived of the counsel of the wise, God-fearing

patriarch. The influence of his wife, and the associations of that

wicked city, would have led him to apostatize from God, had it not been

for the faithful instruction he had early received from Abraham. The

marriage of Lot, and his choice of Sodom for a home, were the first

links in a chain of events fraught with evil to the world for many

generations.

No one who fears God can without danger connect himself with one who

fears him not. “Can two walk together, except they be agreed?”[252] The

happiness and prosperity of the marriage relation depends upon the unity

of the parties; but between the believer and the unbeliever there is a

radical difference of tastes, inclinations, and purposes. They are

serving two masters, between whom there can be no concord. However pure

and correct one’s principles may be, the influence of an unbelieving

companion will have a tendency to lead away from God.

He who has entered the marriage relation while unconverted, is by his

conversion placed under stronger obligation to be faithful to his

companion, however widely they may differ in regard to religious faith;

yet the claims of God should be placed above every earthly relationship,

even though trials and persecution may be the result. With the spirit of

love and meekness, this fidelity may have an influence to win the

unbelieving one. But the marriage of Christians with the ungodly is

forbidden in the Bible. The Lord’s direction is, “Be ye not unequally

yoked together with unbelievers.”[253]

Isaac was highly honored by God, in being made inheritor of the promises

through which the world was to be blessed; yet when he was forty years

of age, he submitted to his father’s judgment in appointing his

experienced, God-fearing servant to choose a wife for him. And the

result of that marriage, as presented in the Scriptures, is a tender and

beautiful picture of domestic happiness: “Isaac brought her unto his

mother Sarah’s tent, and took Rebekah, and she became his wife; and he

loved her: and Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.”

What a contrast between the course of Isaac and that pursued by the

youth of our time, even among professed Christians! Young people too

often feel that the bestowal of their affections is a matter in which

self alone should be consulted,—a matter that neither God nor their

parents should in any wise control. Long before they have reached

manhood or womanhood, they think themselves competent to make their own

choice, without the aid of their parents. A few years of married life

are usually sufficient to show them their error, but often too late to

prevent its baleful results. For the same lack of wisdom and

self-control that dictated the hasty choice is permitted to aggravate

the evil, until the marriage relation becomes a galling yoke. Many have

thus wrecked their happiness in this life, and their hope of the life to

come.

If there is any subject which should be carefully considered and in

which the counsel of older and more experienced persons should be

sought, it is the subject of marriage; if ever the Bible was needed as a

counselor, if ever divine guidance should be sought in prayer, it is

before taking a step that binds persons together for life.

Parents should never lose sight of their own responsibility for the

future happiness of their children. Isaac’s deference to his father’s

judgment was the result of the training that had taught him to love a

life of obedience. While Abraham required his children to respect

parental authority, his daily life testified that that authority was not

a selfish or arbitrary control, but was founded in love, and had their

welfare and happiness in view.

Fathers and mothers should feel that a duty devolves upon them to guide

the affections of the youth, that they may be placed upon those who will

be suitable companions. They should feel it a duty, by their own

teaching and example, with the assisting grace of God, to so mould the

character of the children from their earliest years that they will be

pure and noble, and will be attracted to the good and true. Like

attracts like; like appreciates like. Let the love for truth and purity

and goodness be early implanted in the soul, and the youth will seek the

society of those who possess these characteristics.

Let parents seek, in their own character and in their home life, to

exemplify the love and beneficence of the heavenly Father. Let the home

be full of sunshine. This will be worth far more to your children than

lands or money. Let the home love be kept alive in their hearts, that

they may look back upon the home of their childhood as a place of peace

and happiness next to heaven. The members of the family do not all have

the same stamp of character, and there will be frequent occasion for the

exercise of patience and forbearance; but through love and

self-discipline, all may be bound together in the closest union.

True love is a high and holy principle, altogether different in

character from that love which is awakened by impulse, and which

suddenly dies when severely tested. It is by faithfulness to duty in the

parental home that the youth are to prepare themselves for homes of

their own. Let them here practice self-denial, and manifest kindness,

courtesy, and Christian sympathy. Thus love will be kept warm in the

heart, and he who goes out from such a household to stand at the head of

a family of his own, will know how to promote the happiness of her whom

he has chosen as a companion for life. Marriage, instead of being the

end of love, will be only its beginning.

Footnote 250:

See Genesis 24.

Footnote 251:

Gen. 16:12.

Footnote 252:

Amos 3:3.

Footnote 253:

2 Cor. 6:14, 17, 18.

JACOB AND ESAU—16

Jacob and Esau, the twin sons of Isaac, present a striking contrast,

both in character and in life. This unlikeness was foretold by the angel

of God before their birth. When in answer to Rebekah’s troubled prayer

he declared that two sons would be given her, he opened to her their

future history, that each would become the head of a mighty nation, but

that one would be greater than the other, and that the younger would

have the pre-eminence.

Esau grew up loving self-gratification, and centering all his interest

in the present. Impatient of restraint, he delighted in the wild freedom

of the chase, and early chose the life of a hunter. Yet he was the

father’s favorite. The quiet, peace-loving shepherd was attracted by the

daring and vigor of this elder son, who fearlessly ranged over mountain

and desert, returning home with game for his father, and with exciting

accounts of his adventurous life. Jacob, thoughtful, diligent, and

care-taking, ever thinking more of the future than the present, was

content to dwell at home, occupied in the care of the flocks and the

tillage of the soil. His patient perseverance, thrift, and foresight

were valued by the mother. His affections were deep and strong, and his

gentle, unremitting attentions added far more to her happiness than did

the boisterous and occasional kindnesses of Esau. To Rebekah, Jacob was

the dearer son.

The promises made to Abraham and confirmed to his son, were held by

Isaac and Rebekah as the great object of their desires and hopes. With

these promises Esau and Jacob were familiar. They were taught to regard

the birthright as a matter of great importance, for it included not only

an inheritance of worldly wealth, but spiritual pre-eminence. He who

received it was to be the priest of his family; and in the line of his

posterity the Redeemer of the world would come. On the other hand, there

were obligations resting upon the possessor of the birthright. He who

should inherit its blessings must devote his life to the service of God.

Like Abraham, he must be obedient to the divine requirements. In

marriage, in his family relations, in public life, he must consult the

will of God.

Isaac made known to his sons these privileges and conditions, and

plainly stated that Esau, as the eldest, was the one entitled to the

birthright. But Esau had no love for devotion, no inclination to a

religious life. The requirements that accompanied the spiritual

birthright were an unwelcome and even hateful restraint to him. The law

of God, which was the condition of the divine covenant with Abraham, was

regarded by Esau as a yoke of bondage. Bent on self-indulgence, he

desired nothing so much as liberty to do as he pleased. To him power and

riches, feasting and reveling, were happiness. He gloried in the

unrestrained freedom of his wild, roving life. Rebekah remembered the

words of the angel, and she read with clearer insight than did her

husband the character of their sons. She was convinced that the heritage

of divine promise was intended for Jacob. She repeated to Isaac the

angel’s words; but the father’s affections were centered upon the elder

son, and he was unshaken in his purpose.

Jacob had learned from his mother of the divine intimation that the

birthright should fall to him, and he was filled with an unspeakable

desire for the privileges which it would confer. It was not the

possession of his father’s wealth that he craved; the spiritual

birthright was the object of his longing. To commune with God as did

righteous Abraham, to offer the sacrifice of atonement for his family,

to be the progenitor of the chosen people, and of the promised Messiah,

and to inherit the immortal possessions embraced in the blessings of the

covenant,—here were the privileges and honors that kindled his most

ardent desires. His mind was ever reaching forward to the future, and

seeking to grasp its unseen blessings.

With secret longing he listened to all that his father told concerning

the spiritual birthright; he carefully treasured what he had learned

from his mother. Day and night the subject occupied his thoughts, until

it became the absorbing interest of his life. But while he thus esteemed

eternal above temporal blessings. Jacob had not an experimental

knowledge of the God whom he revered. His heart had not been renewed by

divine grace. He believed that the promise concerning himself could not

be fulfilled so long as Esau retained the rights of the first-born, and

he constantly studied to devise some way whereby he might secure the

blessing which his brother held so lightly, but which was so precious to

himself.

When Esau, coming home one day faint and weary from the chase, asked for

the food that Jacob was preparing, the latter, with whom one thought was

ever uppermost, seized upon his advantage, and offered to satisfy his

brother’s hunger at the price of the birthright. “Behold, I am at the

point to die,” cried the reckless, self-indulgent hunter, “and what

profit shall this birthright do to me?”[260] And for a dish of red

pottage he parted with his birthright, and confirmed the transaction by

an oath. A short time at most would have secured him food in his

father’s tents; but to satisfy the desire of the moment he carelessly

bartered the glorious heritage that God himself had promised to his

fathers. His whole interest was in the present. He was ready to

sacrifice the heavenly to the earthly, to exchange a future good for a

momentary indulgence.

“Thus Esau despised his birthright.”[260] In disposing of it he felt a

sense of relief. Now his way was unobstructed; he could do as he liked.

For this wild pleasure, miscalled freedom, how many are still selling

their birthright to an inheritance pure and undefiled, eternal in the

heavens!

Ever subject to mere outward and earthly attractions, Esau took two

wives of the daughters of Heth. They were worshipers of false gods, and

their idolatry was a bitter grief to Isaac and Rebekah. Esau had

violated one of the conditions of the covenant, which forbade

intermarriage between the chosen people and the heathen; yet Isaac was

still unshaken in his determination to bestow upon him the birthright.

The reasoning of Rebekah, Jacob’s strong desire for the blessing, and

Esau’s indifference to its obligations, had no effect to change the

father’s purpose.

Years passed on, until Isaac, old and blind, and expecting soon to die,

determined no longer to delay the bestowal of the blessing upon his

elder son. But knowing the opposition of Rebekah and Jacob, he decided

to perform the solemn ceremony in secret. In accordance with the custom

of making a feast upon such occasions, the patriarch bade Esau, “Go out

to the field, and take me some venison; and make me savory meat, ...

that my soul may bless thee before I die.”[261]

Rebekah divined his purpose. She was confident that it was contrary to

what God had revealed as his will. Isaac was in danger of incurring the

divine displeasure, and of debarring his younger son from the position

to which God had called him. She had in vain tried the effect of

reasoning with Isaac, and she determined to resort to stratagem.

No sooner had Esau departed on his errand than Rebekah set about the

accomplishment of her purpose. She told Jacob what had taken place,

urging the necessity of immediate action to prevent the bestowal of the

blessing, finally and irrevocably, upon Esau. And she assured her son

that if he would follow her directions, he might obtain it as God had

promised. Jacob did not readily consent to the plan that she proposed.

The thought of deceiving his father caused him great distress. He felt

that such a sin would bring a curse rather than a blessing. But his

scruples were overborne, and he proceeded to carry out his mother’s

suggestions. It was not his intention to utter a direct falsehood, but

once in the presence of his father he seemed to have gone too far to

retreat, and he obtained by fraud the coveted blessing.

Jacob and Rebekah succeeded in their purpose, but they gained only

trouble and sorrow by their deception. God had declared that Jacob

should receive the birthright, and his word would have been fulfilled in

his own time, had they waited in faith for him to work for them. But

like many who now profess to be children of God, they were unwilling to

leave the matter in his hands. Rebekah bitterly repented the wrong

counsel she had given her son; it was the means of separating him from

her, and she never saw his face again. From the hour when he received

the birthright, Jacob was weighed down with self-condemnation. He had

sinned against his father, his brother, his own soul, and against God.

In one short hour he had made work for a life-long repentance. This

scene was vivid before him in after-years, when the wicked course of his

own sons oppressed his soul.

[Illustration: JACOB RECEIVING THE BLESSING. “Jacob and Rebekah

succeeded in their purpose, but they gained only trouble and sorrow by

their deception.”]

No sooner had Jacob left his father’s tent than Esau entered. Though he

had sold his birthright, and confirmed the transfer by a solemn oath, he

was now determined to secure its blessings, regardless of his brother’s

claim. With the spiritual was connected the temporal birthright, which

would give him the headship of the family, and possession of a double

portion of his father’s wealth. These were blessings that he could

value. “Let my father arise,” he said, “and eat of his son’s venison,

that thy soul may bless me.”

Trembling with astonishment and distress, the blind old father learned

the deception that had been practiced upon him. His long and fondly

cherished hopes had been thwarted, and he keenly felt the disappointment

that must come upon his elder son. Yet the conviction flashed upon him

that it was God’s providence which had defeated his purpose, and brought

about the very thing he had determined to prevent. He remembered the

words of the angel to Rebekah, and notwithstanding the sin of which

Jacob was now guilty, he saw in him the one best fitted to accomplish

the purposes of God. While the words of blessing were upon his lips, he

had felt the Spirit of inspiration upon him; and now, knowing all the

circumstances, he ratified the benediction unwittingly pronounced upon

Jacob: “I have blessed him; yea, and he shall be blessed.”[262]

Esau had lightly valued the blessing while it seemed within his reach,

but he desired to possess it now that it was gone from him forever. All

the strength of his impulsive, passionate nature was aroused, and his

grief and rage were terrible. He cried with an exceeding bitter cry,

“Bless me, even me also, O my father!” “Hast thou not reserved a

blessing for me?” But the promise given was not to be recalled. The

birthright which he had so carelessly bartered, he could not now regain.

“For one morsel of meat,” for a momentary gratification of appetite that

had never been restrained, Esau sold his inheritance; but when he saw

his folly, it was too late to recover the blessing. “He found no place

of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.”[263] Esau was

not shut out from the privilege of seeking God’s favor by repentance;

but he could find no means of recovering the birthright. His grief did

not spring from conviction of sin; he did not desire to be reconciled to

God. He sorrowed because of the results of his sin, but not for the sin

itself.

Because of his indifference to the divine blessings and requirements,

Esau is called in Scripture “a profane person.”[263] He represents those

who lightly value the redemption purchased for them by Christ, and are

ready to sacrifice their heirship to heaven for the perishable things of

earth. Multitudes live for the present, with no thought or care for the

future. Like Esau they cry, “Let us eat and drink; for to-morrow we

die.”[264] They are controlled by inclination; and rather than practice

self-denial, they will forego the most valuable considerations. If one

must be relinquished, the gratification of a depraved appetite or the

heavenly blessings promised only to the self-denying and God-fearing,

the claims of appetite prevail, and God and heaven are virtually

despised. How many, even of professed Christians, cling to indulgences

that are injurious to health, and that benumb the sensibilities of the

soul. When the duty is presented of cleansing themselves from all

filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of

God, they are offended. They see that they cannot retain these hurtful

gratifications and yet secure heaven, and they conclude that since the

way to eternal life is so strait, they will no longer walk therein.

Multitudes are selling their birthright for sensual indulgence. Health

is sacrificed, the mental faculties are enfeebled, and heaven is

forfeited; and all for a mere temporary pleasure,—an indulgence at once

both weakening and debasing in its character. As Esau awoke to see the

folly of his rash exchange when it was too late to recover his loss, so

it will be in the day of God with those who have bartered their heirship

to heaven for selfish gratifications.

Footnote 260:

Gen. 25:32, 34.

Footnote 261:

Gen. 27:3, 4.

Footnote 262:

Gen. 27:33.

Footnote 263:

Heb. 12:16, 17

Footnote 264:

1 Cor. 15:32.

JACOB’S FLIGHT AND EXILE—17

Threatened with death by the wrath of Esau, Jacob went out from his

father’s home a fugitive; but he carried with him the father’s blessing;

Isaac had renewed to him the covenant promise, and had bidden him, as

its inheritor, to seek a wife of his mother’s family in Mesopotamia. Yet

it was with a deeply troubled heart that Jacob set out on his lonely

journey. With only his staff in his hand he must travel hundreds of

miles through a country inhabited by wild, roving tribes. In his remorse

and timidity he sought to avoid men, lest he should be traced by his

angry brother. He feared that he had lost forever the blessing that God

had purposed to give him; and Satan was at hand to press temptations

upon him.

The evening of the second day found him far away from his father’s

tents. He felt that he was an outcast, and he knew that all this trouble

had been brought upon him by his own wrong course. The darkness of

despair pressed upon his soul, and he hardly dared to pray. But he was

so utterly lonely that he felt the need of protection from God as he had

never felt it before. With weeping and deep humiliation he confessed his

sin, and entreated for some evidence that he was not utterly forsaken.

Still his burdened heart found no relief. He had lost all confidence in

himself, and he feared that the God of his fathers had cast him off.

But God did not forsake Jacob. His mercy was still extended to his

erring, distrustful servant. The Lord compassionately revealed just what

Jacob needed,—a Saviour. He had sinned; but his heart was filled with

gratitude as he saw revealed a way by which he could be restored to the

favor of God.

Wearied with his journey, the wanderer lay down upon the ground, with a

stone for his pillow. As he slept, he beheld a ladder, bright and

shining, whose base rested upon the earth, while the top reached to

heaven. Upon this ladder, angels were ascending and descending; above it

was the Lord of glory, and from the heavens his voice was heard: “I am

the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac.” The land

whereon he lay as an exile and fugitive was promised to him and to his

posterity, with the assurance, “In thee and in thy seed shall all the

families of the earth be blessed.” This promise had been given to

Abraham and to Isaac, and now it was renewed to Jacob. Then in special

regard to his present loneliness and distress, the words of comfort and

encouragement were spoken: “Behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee

in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this

land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have

spoken to thee of.”[270]

The Lord knew the evil influences that would surround Jacob, and the

perils to which he would be exposed. In mercy he opened up the future

before the repentant fugitive, that he might understand the divine

purpose with reference to himself, and be prepared to resist the

temptations that would surely come to him when alone amid idolaters and

scheming men. There would be ever before him the high standard at which

he must aim; and the knowledge that through him the purpose of God was

reaching its accomplishment, would constantly prompt him to

faithfulness.

In this vision the plan of redemption was presented to Jacob, not fully,

but in such parts as were essential to him at that time. The mystic

ladder revealed to him in his dream was the same to which Christ

referred in his conversation with Nathanael. Said he, “Ye shall see

heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son

of man.”[271] Up to the time of man’s rebellion against the government

of God, there had been free communion between God and man. But the sin

of Adam and Eve separated earth from heaven, so that man could not have

communion with his Maker. Yet the world was not left in solitary

hopelessness. The ladder represents Jesus, the appointed medium of

communication. Had he not with his own merits bridged the gulf that sin

had made, the ministering angels could have held no communion with

fallen man. Christ connects man in his weakness and helplessness with

the source of infinite power.

[Illustration: JACOB’S DREAM. “In this vision the plan of redemption was

presented to Jacob.”]

All this was revealed to Jacob in his dream. Although his mind at once

grasped a part of the revelation, its great and mysterious truths were

the study of his life-time, and unfolded to his understanding more and

more.

Jacob awoke from his sleep in the deep stillness of night. The shining

forms of his vision had disappeared. Only the dim outline of the lonely

hills, and above them the heavens bright with stars, now met his gaze.

But he had a solemn sense that God was with him. An unseen presence

filled the solitude. “Surely the Lord is in this place,” he said, “and I

knew it not.... This is none other but the house of God, and this is the

gate of heaven.”[272]

“And Jacob rose up early in the morning, and took the stone that he had

put for his pillows, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil upon the

top of it.” In accordance with the custom of commemorating important

events, Jacob set up a memorial of God’s mercy, that whenever he should

pass that way, he might tarry at this sacred spot to worship the Lord.

And he called the place Bethel, or “the house of God.” With deep

gratitude he repeated the promise that God’s presence would be with him;

and then he made the solemn vow, “If God will be with me, and will keep

me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to

put on, so that I come again to my father’s house in peace; then shall

the Lord be my God; and this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall

be God’s house; and of all that thou shalt give me I will surely give

the tenth unto thee.”

Jacob was not here seeking to make terms with God. The Lord had already

promised him prosperity, and this vow was the outflow of a heart filled

with gratitude for the assurance of God’s love and mercy. Jacob felt

that God had claims upon him which he must acknowledge, and that the

special tokens of divine favor granted him demanded a return. So does

every blessing bestowed upon us call for a response to the Author of all

our mercies. The Christian should often review his past life, and recall

with gratitude the precious deliverances that God has wrought for him,

supporting him in trial, opening ways before him when all seemed dark

and forbidding, refreshing him when ready to faint. He should recognize

all of them as evidences of the watchcare of heavenly angels. In view of

these innumerable blessings he should often ask, with subdued and

grateful heart, “What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits

toward me?”[273]

Our time, our talents, our property, should be sacredly devoted to Him

who has given us these blessings in trust. Whenever a special

deliverance is wrought in our behalf, or new and unexpected favors are

granted us, we should acknowledge God’s goodness, not only by expressing

our gratitude in words, but, like Jacob, by gifts and offerings to his

cause. As we are continually receiving the blessings of God, so we are

to be continually giving.

“Of all that thou shalt give me,” said Jacob, “I will surely give the

tenth unto thee.”[274] Shall we who enjoy the full light and privileges

of the gospel, be content to give less to God than was given by those

who lived in the former, less favored dispensation? Nay, as the

blessings we enjoy are greater, are not our obligations correspondingly

increased? But how small the estimate; how vain the endeavor to measure

with mathematical rules, time, money, and love, against a love so

immeasurable and a gift of such inconceivable worth. Tithes for Christ!

O, meager pittance, shameful recompense for that which cost so much!

From the cross of Calvary, Christ calls for an unreserved consecration.

All that we have, all that we are, should be devoted to God.

With a new and abiding faith in the divine promises, and assured of the

presence and guardianship of heavenly angels, Jacob pursued his journey

to “the land of the children of the East.”[275] But how different his

arrival from that of Abraham’s messenger nearly a hundred years before!

The servant had come with a train of attendants riding upon camels, and

with rich gifts of gold and silver; the son was a lonely, foot-sore

traveler, with no possession save his staff. Like Abraham’s servant,

Jacob tarried beside a well, and it was here that he met Rachel, Laban’s

younger daughter. It was Jacob now who rendered service, rolling the

stone from the well, and watering the flocks. On making known his

kinship, he was welcomed to the home of Laban. Though he came

portionless and unattended, a few weeks showed the worth of his

diligence and skill, and he was urged to tarry. It was arranged that he

should render Laban seven years’ service for the hand of Rachel.

In early times, custom required the bridegroom, before the ratification

of a marriage engagement, to pay a sum of money or its equivalent in

other property, according to his circumstances, to the father of his

wife. This was regarded as a safeguard to the marriage relation. Fathers

did not think it safe to trust the happiness of their daughters to men

who had not made provision for the support of a family. If they had not

sufficient thrift and energy to manage business and acquire cattle or

lands, it was feared that their life would prove worthless. But

provision was made to test those who had nothing to pay for a wife. They

were permitted to labor for the father whose daughter they loved, the

length of time being regulated by the value of the dowry required. When

the suitor was faithful in his services, and proved in other respects

worthy, he obtained the daughter as his wife; and generally the dowry

which the father had received was given her at her marriage. In the case

of both Rachel and Leah, however, Laban selfishly retained the dowry

that should have been given them; they referred to this when they said,

just before the removal from Mesopotamia, “He hath sold us, and hath

quite devoured also our money.”[276]

The ancient custom, though sometimes abused, as by Laban, was productive

of good results. When the suitor was required to render service to

secure his bride, a hasty marriage was prevented, and there was

opportunity to test the depth of his affections, as well as his ability

to provide for a family. In our time many evils result from pursuing an

opposite course. It is often the case that persons before marriage have

little opportunity to become acquainted with each other’s habits and

disposition, and, so far as every-day life is concerned, they are

virtually strangers when they unite their interests at the altar. Many

find, too late, that they are not adapted to each other, and life-long

wretchedness is the result of their union. Often the wife and children

suffer from the indolence and inefficiency or the vicious habits of the

husband and father. If the character of the suitor had been tested

before marriage, according to the ancient custom, great unhappiness

might have been prevented.

Seven years of faithful service Jacob gave for Rachel, and the years

that he served “seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to

her.”[277] But the selfish and grasping Laban, desiring to retain so

valuable a helper, practiced a cruel deception in substituting Leah for

Rachel. The fact that Leah herself was a party to the cheat, caused

Jacob to feel that he could not love her. His indignant rebuke to Laban

was met with the offer of Rachel for another seven years’ service. But

the father insisted that Leah should not be discarded, since this would

bring disgrace upon the family. Jacob was thus placed in a most painful

and trying position; he finally decided to retain Leah and marry Rachel.

Rachel was ever the one best loved; but his preference for her excited

envy and jealousy, and his life was imbittered by the rivalry between

the sister-wives.

For twenty years, Jacob remained in Mesopotamia, laboring in the service

of Laban, who, disregarding the ties of kinship, was bent upon securing

to himself all the benefits of their connection. Fourteen years of toil

he demanded for his two daughters; and during the remaining period,

Jacob’s wages were ten times changed. Yet Jacob’s service was diligent

and faithful. His words to Laban in their last interview vividly

describe the untiring vigilance which he had given to the interests of

his exacting master: “This twenty years have I been with thee; thy ewes

and thy she-goats have not cast their young, and the rams of thy flock

have I not eaten. That which was torn of beasts I brought not unto thee;

I bare the loss of it; of my hand didst thou require it, whether stolen

by day, or stolen by night. Thus I was; in the day the drought consumed

me, and the frost by night; and my sleep departed from mine eyes.”[278]

It was necessary for the shepherd to watch his flocks day and night.

They were in danger from robbers, and also from wild beasts, which were

numerous and bold, often committing great havoc in flocks that were not

faithfully guarded. Jacob had many assistants in caring for the

extensive flocks of Laban; but he himself was held responsible for them

all. During some portions of the year it was necessary for him to be

constantly with the flocks in person, to guard them in the dry season

against perishing from thirst, and during the coldest months from

becoming chilled with the heavy night frosts. Jacob was the chief

shepherd; the servants in his employ were the under-shepherds. If any of

the sheep were missing, the chief shepherd suffered the loss; and he

called the servants to whom he intrusted the care of the flock to a

strict account if it was not found in a flourishing condition.

[Illustration: GUARDING THE FLOCK BY NIGHT. The Chief Shepherd declares:

“I will save my flock. And they shall no more be a prey,” “neither shall

the beast of the land devour them.”]

The shepherd’s life of diligence and care-taking, and his tender

compassion for the helpless creatures intrusted to his charge, have been

employed by the inspired writers to illustrate some of the most precious

truths of the gospel. Christ, in his relation to his people, is compared

to a shepherd. After the fall, he saw his sheep doomed to perish in the

dark ways of sin. To save these wandering ones he left the honors and

glories of his Father’s house. He says, “I will seek that which was

lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that

which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick.” “I will save

my flock, and they shall no more be a prey,” “neither shall the beast of

the land devour them.”[279] His voice is heard calling them to his fold,

“a shadow in the daytime from the heat, and for a place of refuge, and

for a covert from storm and from rain.”[280] His care for the flock is

unwearied. He strengthens the weak, relieves the suffering, gathers the

lambs in his arms, and carries them in his bosom. His sheep love him.

“And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him; for they

know not the voice of strangers.”[281]

Christ says, “The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. But he

that is a hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not,

seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth; and the wolf

catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep. The hireling fleeth, because he

is a hireling, and careth not for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and

know my sheep, and am known of mine.”[281]

Christ, the chief shepherd, has intrusted the care of his flock to his

ministers as under-shepherds; and he bids them have the same interest

that he has manifested, and feel the sacred responsibility of the charge

he has intrusted to them. He has solemnly commanded them to be faithful,

to feed the flock, to strengthen the weak, to revive the fainting, and

to shield them from devouring wolves.

To save his sheep, Christ laid down his own life; and he points his

shepherds to the love thus manifested, as their example. But “he that is

a hireling, whose own the sheep are not,” has no real interest in the

flock. He is laboring merely for gain, and he cares only for himself. He

studies his own profit, instead of the interest of his charge; and in

time of peril or danger he will flee, and leave the flock.

The apostle Peter admonishes the under-shepherds: “Feed the flock of God

which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but

willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; neither as being

lords over God’s heritage, but being ensamples to the flock.”[282] Paul

says, “Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all the flock, over

the which the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers, to feed the church of

God, which he hath purchased with his own blood; for I know this, that

after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing

the flock.”[283]

All who regard as an unwelcome task the care and burdens that fall to

the lot of the faithful shepherd, are reproved by the apostle: “Not by

constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind.”

All such unfaithful servants the Chief Shepherd would willingly release.

The church of Christ has been purchased with his blood, and every

shepherd should realize that the sheep under his care cost an infinite

sacrifice. He should regard them each as of priceless worth, and should

be unwearied in his efforts to keep them in a healthy, flourishing

condition. The shepherd who is imbued with the spirit of Christ will

imitate his self-denying example, constantly laboring for the welfare of

his charge; and the flock will prosper under his care.

All will be called to render a strict account of their ministry. The

Master will demand of every shepherd, “Where is the flock that was given

thee, thy beautiful flock?”[284] He that is found faithful, will receive

a rich reward. “When the Chief Shepherd shall appear,” says the apostle,

“ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.”[285]

When Jacob, growing weary of Laban’s service, proposed to return to

Canaan, he said to his father-in-law, “Send me away, that I may go unto

mine own place, and to my country. Give me my wives and my children, for

whom I have served thee, and let me go; for thou knowest my service

which I have done thee.” But Laban urged him to remain, declaring, “I

have learned by experience that the Lord hath blessed me for thy

sake.”[286] He saw that his property was increasing under the care of

his son-in-law.

Said Jacob, “It was little which thou hadst before I came, and it is now

increased unto a multitude.” But as time passed on, Laban became envious

of the greater prosperity of Jacob, who “increased exceedingly, and had

much cattle, and maid-servants, and men-servants, and camels, and

asses.”[286] Laban’s sons shared their father’s jealousy, and their

malicious speeches came to Jacob’s ears: He “hath taken away all that

was our father’s, and of that which was our father’s hath he gotten all

this glory. And Jacob beheld the countenance of Laban, and, behold, it

was not toward him as before.”[287]

Jacob would have left his crafty kinsman long before, but for the fear

of encountering Esau. Now he felt that he was in danger from the sons of

Laban, who, looking upon his wealth as their own, might endeavor to

secure it by violence. He was in great perplexity and distress, not

knowing which way to turn. But mindful of the gracious Bethel promise,

he carried his case to God, and sought direction from him. In a dream

his prayer was answered: “Return unto the land of thy fathers, and to

thy kindred; and I will be with thee.”

Laban’s absence afforded opportunity for departure. The flocks and herds

were speedily gathered and sent forward, and with his wives, children,

and servants, Jacob crossed the Euphrates, urging his way toward Gilead,

on the borders of Canaan. After three days, Laban learned of their

flight, and set forth in pursuit, overtaking the company on the seventh

day of their journey. He was hot with anger, and bent on forcing them to

return, which he doubted not he could do, since his band was much the

stronger. The fugitives were indeed in great peril.

That he did not carry out his hostile purpose was due to the fact that

God himself had interposed for the protection of his servant. “It is in

the power of my hand to do you hurt,” said Laban, “but the God of your

father spake unto me yesternight, saying, Take thou heed that thou speak

not to Jacob either good or bad;” that is, he should not force him to

return, or urge him by flattering inducements.

Laban had withheld the marriage dowry of his daughters, and had ever

treated Jacob with craft and harshness; but with characteristic

dissimulation he now reproached him for his secret departure, which had

given the father no opportunity to make a parting feast, or even to bid

farewell to his daughters and their children.

In reply, Jacob plainly set forth Laban’s selfish and grasping policy,

and appealed to him as a witness to his own faithfulness and honesty.

“Except the God of my father, the God of Abraham, and the Fear of Isaac,

had been with me,” said Jacob, “surely thou hadst sent me away now

empty. God hath seen mine affliction and the labor of my hands, and

rebuked thee yesternight.”

Laban could not deny the facts brought forward, and he now proposed to

enter into a covenant of peace. Jacob consented to the proposal, and a

pile of stones was erected as a token of the compact. To this pillar

Laban gave the name Mizpah, “watch-tower,” saying, “The Lord watch

between me and thee, when we are absent one from another.”

“And Laban said to Jacob, Behold this heap, and behold this pillar,

which I have cast betwixt me and thee; this heap be witness, and this

pillar be witness, that I will not pass over this heap to thee, and that

thou shalt not pass over this heap and this pillar unto me, for harm.

The God of Abraham, and the God of Nahor, the God of their father, judge

betwixt us. And Jacob sware by the Fear of his father Isaac.” To confirm

the treaty, the parties held a feast. The night was spent in friendly

communing; and at the dawn of day, Laban and his company departed. With

this separation ceased all trace of connection between the children of

Abraham and the dwellers in Mesopotamia.

[Illustration: “This heap be witness, and this pillar be witness.”]

Footnote 270:

Gen. 28:13-15.

Footnote 271:

John 1:51.

Footnote 272:

Gen. 28:16-22.

Footnote 273:

Ps. 116:12.

Footnote 274:

Gen. 28:22.

Footnote 275:

Gen. 29:1, Rev. Ver.

Footnote 276:

Gen. 31:15.

Footnote 277:

Gen. 29:20.

Footnote 278:

Gen. 31:38-40.

Footnote 279:

Eze. 34:16, 22, 28.

Footnote 280:

Isa. 4:6.

Footnote 281:

John 10:5, 11-14.

Footnote 282:

1 Peter 5:2, 3.

Footnote 283:

Acts 20:28, 29.

Footnote 284:

Jer. 13:20.

Footnote 285:

1 Peter 5:4.

Footnote 286:

Gen. 30:25-27, 30, 43.

Footnote 287:

See Genesis 31.

THE NIGHT OF WRESTLING—18

Though Jacob had left Padan-aram in obedience to the divine direction,

it was not without many misgivings that he retraced the road which he

had trodden as a fugitive twenty years before. His sin in the deception

of his father was ever before him. He knew that his long exile was the

direct result of that sin, and he pondered over these things day and

night, the reproaches of an accusing conscience making his journey very

sad. As the hills of his native land appeared before him in the

distance, the heart of the patriarch was deeply moved. All the past rose

vividly before him. With the memory of his sin came also the thought of

God’s favor toward him, and the promises of divine help and guidance.

As he drew nearer his journey’s end, the thought of Esau brought many a

troubled foreboding. After the flight of Jacob, Esau had regarded

himself as the sole heir of their father’s possessions. The news of

Jacob’s return would excite the fear that he was coming to claim the

inheritance. Esau was now able to do his brother great injury, if so

disposed, and he might be moved to violence against him, not only by the

desire for revenge, but in order to secure undisturbed possession of the

wealth which he had so long looked upon as his own.

Again the Lord granted Jacob a token of the divine care. As he traveled

southward from Mount Gilead, two hosts of heavenly angels seemed to

encompass him behind and before, advancing with his company, as if for

their protection. Jacob remembered the vision at Bethel so long before,

and his burdened heart grew lighter at this evidence that the divine

messengers who had brought him hope and courage at his flight from

Canaan, were to be the guardians of his return. And he said, “This is

God’s host; and he called the name of that place Mahanaim”—“two hosts,

or camps.”[290]

Yet Jacob felt that he had something to do to secure his own safety. He

therefore dispatched messengers with a conciliatory greeting to his

brother. He instructed them as to the exact words in which they were to

address Esau. It had been foretold before the birth of the two brothers,

that the elder should serve the younger, and lest the memory of this

should be a cause of bitterness, Jacob told the servants they were sent

to “my lord Esau;” when brought before him, they were to refer to their

master as “thy servant Jacob;” and to remove the fear that he was

returning, a destitute wanderer, to claim the paternal inheritance,

Jacob was careful to state, in his message, “I have oxen, and asses,

flocks, and men-servants, and women-servants; and I have sent to tell my

lord, that I may find grace in thy sight.”

But the servants returned with the tidings that Esau was approaching

with four hundred men, and no response was sent to the friendly message.

It appeared certain that he was coming to seek revenge. Terror pervaded

the camp. “Jacob was greatly afraid and distressed.” He could not go

back, and he feared to advance. His company, unarmed and defenseless,

were wholly unprepared for a hostile encounter. He accordingly divided

them into two bands, so that if one should be attacked, the other might

have an opportunity to escape. He sent from his vast flocks generous

presents to Esau, with a friendly message. He did all in his power to

atone for the wrong to his brother, and to avert the threatened danger,

and then in humiliation and repentance he pleaded for divine protection:

“Thou saidst unto me, Return unto thy country, and to thy kindred, and I

will deal well with thee. I am not worthy of the least of all the

mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast showed unto thy servant;

for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become two

bands. Deliver me, I pray thee, from the hand of my brother, from the

hand of Esau; for I fear him, lest he will come and smite me, and the

mother with the children.”

They had now reached the river Jabbok, and as night came on, Jacob sent

his family across the ford of the river, while he alone remained behind.

He had decided to spend the night in prayer, and he desired to be alone

with God. God could soften the heart of Esau. In him was the patriarch’s

only hope.

It was in a lonely, mountainous region, the haunt of wild beasts, and

the lurking-place of robbers and murderers. Solitary and unprotected,

Jacob bowed in deep distress upon the earth. It was midnight. All that

made life dear to him were at a distance, exposed to danger and death.

Bitterest of all was the thought that it was his own sin which had

brought this peril upon the innocent. With earnest cries and tears he

made his prayer before God. Suddenly a strong hand was laid upon him. He

thought that an enemy was seeking his life, and he endeavored to wrest

himself from the grasp of his assailant. In the darkness the two

struggled for the mastery. Not a word was spoken, but Jacob put forth

all his strength, and did not relax his efforts for a moment. While he

was thus battling for his life, the sense of his guilt pressed upon his

soul; his sins rose up before him, to shut him out from God. But in his

terrible extremity he remembered God’s promises, and his whole heart

went out in entreaty for His mercy. The struggle continued until near

the break of day, when the stranger placed his finger upon Jacob’s

thigh, and he was crippled instantly. The patriarch now discerned the

character of his antagonist. He knew that he had been in conflict with a

heavenly messenger, and this was why his almost superhuman effort had

not gained the victory. It was Christ, “the Angel of the covenant,” who

had revealed himself to Jacob. The patriarch was now disabled, and

suffering the keenest pain, but he would not loosen his hold. All

penitent and broken, he clung to the Angel; “he wept, and made

supplication,”[291] pleading for a blessing. He must have the assurance

that his sin was pardoned. Physical pain was not sufficient to divert

his mind from this object. His determination grew stronger, his faith

more earnest and persevering, until the very last. The Angel tried to

release himself; he urged, “Let me go, for the day breaketh;” but Jacob

answered, “I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.” Had this been

a boastful, presumptuous confidence, Jacob would have been instantly

destroyed; but his was the assurance of one who confesses his own

unworthiness, yet trusts the faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God.

Jacob “had power over the Angel, and prevailed.”[291] Through

humiliation, repentance, and self-surrender, this sinful, erring mortal

prevailed with the Majesty of heaven. He had fastened his trembling

grasp upon the promises of God, and the heart of Infinite Love could not

turn away the sinner’s plea.

The error that had led to Jacob’s sin in obtaining the birthright by

fraud was now clearly set before him. He had not trusted God’s promises,

but had sought by his own efforts to bring about that which God would

have accomplished in his own time and way. As an evidence that he had

been forgiven, his name was changed from one that was a reminder of his

sin, to one that commemorated his victory. “Thy name,” said the Angel,

“shall be called no more Jacob [the supplanter], but Israel; for as a

prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed.”[292]

Jacob had received the blessing for which his soul had longed. His sin

as a supplanter and deceiver had been pardoned. The crisis in his life

was past. Doubt, perplexity, and remorse had imbittered his existence,

but now all was changed; and sweet was the peace of reconciliation with

God. Jacob no longer feared to meet his brother. God, who had forgiven

his sin, could move the heart of Esau also to accept his humiliation and

repentance.

While Jacob was wrestling with the Angel, another heavenly messenger was

sent to Esau. In a dream, Esau beheld his brother for twenty years an

exile from his father’s house; he witnessed his grief at finding his

mother dead; he saw him encompassed by the hosts of God. This dream was

related by Esau to his soldiers, with the charge not to harm Jacob, for

the God of his father was with him.

The two companies at last approached each other, the desert chief

leading his men of war, and Jacob with his wives and children, attended

by shepherds and handmaidens, and followed by long lines of flocks and

herds. Leaning upon his staff, the patriarch went forward to meet the

band of soldiers. He was pale and disabled from his recent conflict, and

he walked slowly and painfully, halting at every step; but his

countenance was lighted up with joy and peace.

At sight of that crippled sufferer, “Esau ran to meet him, and embraced

him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him; and they wept.”[293] As they

looked upon the scene, even the hearts of Esau’s rude soldiers were

touched. Notwithstanding he had told them of his dream, they could not

account for the change that had come over their captain. Though they

beheld the patriarch’s infirmity, they little thought that this his

weakness had been made his strength.

[Illustration: JACOB MEETING ESAU. “At sight of that crippled sufferer,

‘Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and

kissed him; and they wept.’”]

In his night of anguish beside the Jabbok, when destruction seemed just

before him, Jacob had been taught how vain is the help of man, how

groundless is all trust in human power. He saw that his only help must

come from Him against whom he had so grievously sinned. Helpless and

unworthy, he pleaded God’s promise of mercy to the repentant sinner.

That promise was his assurance that God would pardon and accept him.

Sooner might heaven and earth pass than that word could fail; and it was

this that sustained him through that fearful conflict.

Jacob’s experience during that night of wrestling and anguish represents

the trial through which the people of God must pass just before Christ’s

second coming. The prophet Jeremiah, in holy vision looking down to this

time, said: “We have heard a voice of trembling, of fear, and not of

peace.... All faces are turned into paleness. Alas! for that day is

great, so that none is like it: it is even the time of Jacob’s trouble;

but he shall be saved out of it.”[294]

When Christ shall cease his work as mediator in man’s behalf then this

time of trouble will begin. Then the case of every soul will have been

decided, and there will be no atoning blood to cleanse from sin. When

Jesus leaves his position as man’s intercessor before God, the solemn

announcement is made, “He that is unjust, let him be unjust still; and

he which is filthy, let him be filthy still; and he that is righteous,

let him be righteous still; and he that is holy, let him be holy

still.”[295] Then the restraining Spirit of God is withdrawn from the

earth. As Jacob was threatened with death by his angry brother, so the

people of God will be in peril from the wicked who are seeking to

destroy them. And as the patriarch wrestled all night for deliverance

from the hand of Esau, so the righteous will cry to God day and night

for deliverance from the enemies that surround them.

Satan had accused Jacob before the angels of God, claiming the right to

destroy him because of his sin; he had moved upon Esau to march against

him; and during the patriarch’s long night of wrestling, Satan

endeavored to force upon him a sense of his guilt, in order to

discourage him, and break his hold upon God. When in his distress, Jacob

laid hold of the Angel, and made supplication with tears, the heavenly

Messenger, in order to try his faith, also reminded him of his sin, and

endeavored to escape from him. But Jacob would not be turned away. He

had learned that God is merciful, and he cast himself upon his mercy. He

pointed back to his repentance for his sin, and pleaded for deliverance.

As he reviewed his life, he was driven almost to despair; but he held

fast the Angel, and with earnest, agonizing cries urged his petition

until he prevailed.

Such will be the experience of God’s people in their final struggle with

the powers of evil. God will test their faith, their perseverance, their

confidence in his power to deliver them. Satan will endeavor to terrify

them with the thought that their cases are hopeless; that their sins

have been too great to receive pardon. They will have a deep sense of

their short-comings, and as they review their lives, their hopes will

sink. But remembering the greatness of God’s mercy, and their own

sincere repentance, they will plead his promises made through Christ to

helpless, repenting sinners. Their faith will not fail because their

prayers are not immediately answered. They will lay hold of the strength

of God, as Jacob laid hold of the Angel, and the language of their souls

will be, “I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.”

Had not Jacob previously repented of his sin in obtaining the birthright

by fraud, God could not have heard his prayer and mercifully preserved

his life. So in the time of trouble, if the people of God had

unconfessed sins to appear before them while tortured with fear and

anguish, they would be overwhelmed; despair would cut off their faith,

and they could not have confidence to plead with God for deliverance.

But while they have a deep sense of their unworthiness, they will have

no concealed wrongs to reveal. Their sins will have been blotted out by

the atoning blood of Christ, and they cannot bring them to remembrance.

Satan leads many to believe that God will overlook their unfaithfulness

in the minor affairs of life; but the Lord shows in his dealing with

Jacob that he can in no wise sanction or tolerate evil. All who endeavor

to excuse or conceal their sins, and permit them to remain upon the

books of heaven, unconfessed and unforgiven, will be overcome by Satan.

The more exalted their profession, and the more honorable the position

which they hold, the more grievous is their course in the sight of God,

and the more certain the triumph of the great adversary.

Yet Jacob’s history is an assurance that God will not cast off those who

have been betrayed into sin, but who have returned unto him with true

repentance. It was by self-surrender and confiding faith that Jacob

gained what he had failed to gain by conflict in his own strength. God

thus taught his servant that divine power and grace alone could give him

the blessing he craved. Thus it will be with those who live in the last

days. As dangers surround them, and despair seizes upon the soul, they

must depend solely upon the merits of the atonement. We can do nothing

of ourselves. In all our helpless unworthiness we must trust in the

merits of the crucified and risen Saviour. None will ever perish while

they do this. The long, black catalogue of our delinquencies is before

the eye of the Infinite. The register is complete; none of our offenses

are forgotten. But He who listened to the cries of his servants of old,

will hear the prayer of faith, and pardon our transgressions. He has

promised, and he will fulfill his word.

Jacob prevailed because he was persevering and determined. His

experience testifies to the power of importunate prayer. It is now that

we are to learn this lesson of prevailing prayer, of unyielding faith.

The greatest victories to the church of Christ or to the individual

Christian, are not those that are gained by talent or education, by

wealth, or the favor of men. They are those victories that are gained in

the audience chamber with God, when earnest, agonizing faith lays hold

upon the mighty arm of power.

Those who are unwilling to forsake every sin and to seek earnestly for

God’s blessing, will not obtain it. But all who will lay hold of God’s

promises as did Jacob, and be as earnest and persevering as he was, will

succeed as he succeeded. “Shall not God avenge his own elect, which cry

day and night unto him, though he bear long with them? I tell you that

he will avenge them speedily.”[296]

[Illustration: “All penitent and broken, he clung to the angel.”]

Footnote 290:

See Genesis 32.

Footnote 291:

Hosea 12:4.

Footnote 292:

Gen. 32:28.

Footnote 293:

Gen. 33:4.

Footnote 294:

Jer. 30:5-7.

Footnote 295:

Rev. 22:11.

Footnote 296:

Luke 18:7, 8.

THE RETURN TO CANAAN—19

Crossing the Jordan, “Jacob came in peace to the city of Shechem,

which is in the land of Canaan.”[300] Thus the patriarch’s prayer at

Bethel, that God would bring him again in peace to his own land, had

been granted. For a time he dwelt in the vale of Shechem. It was here

that Abraham, more than a hundred years before, had made his first

encampment, and erected his first altar, in the land of promise. Here

Jacob “bought the parcel of ground, where he had spread his tent, at

the hand of the children of Hamor, Shechem’s father, for a hundred

pieces of money. And he erected there an altar, and called it

El-elohe-Israel”[300]—“God, the God of Israel.” Like Abraham, Jacob

set up beside his tent an altar unto the Lord, calling the members of

his household to the morning and the evening sacrifice. It was here

also that he dug the well to which, seventeen centuries later, came

Jacob’s Son and Saviour, and beside which, resting during the noontide

heat, he told his wondering hearers of that “well of water springing

up into everlasting life.”[301]

The tarry of Jacob and his sons at Shechem ended in violence and

bloodshed. The one daughter of the household had been brought to shame

and sorrow, two brothers were involved in the guilt of murder, a whole

city had been given to ruin and slaughter, in retaliation for the

lawless deed of one rash youth. The beginning that led to results so

terrible was the act of Jacob’s daughter, who “went out to see the

daughters of the land,”[302] thus venturing into association with the

ungodly. He who seeks pleasure among those that fear not God, is placing

himself on Satan’s ground, and inviting his temptations.

The treacherous cruelty of Simeon and Levi was not unprovoked; yet in

their course toward the Shechemites they committed a grievous sin. They

had carefully concealed from Jacob their intentions, and the tidings of

their revenge filled him with horror. Heart-sick at the deceit and

violence of his sons, he only said, “Ye have troubled me to make me to

stink among the inhabitants of the land; ... I being few in number, they

shall gather themselves together against me, and slay me; and I shall be

destroyed, I and my house.” But the grief and abhorrence with which he

regarded their bloody deed is shown by the words in which, nearly fifty

years later, he referred to it, as he lay upon his death-bed in Egypt:

“Simeon and Levi are brethren; instruments of cruelty are in their

habitations. O my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their

assembly, mine honor, be not thou united.... Cursed be their anger, for

it was fierce; and their wrath, for it was cruel.”[303]

Jacob felt that there was cause for deep humiliation. Cruelty and

falsehood were manifest in the character of his sons. There were false

gods in the camp, and idolatry had to some extent gained a foothold even

in his household. Should the Lord deal with them according to their

deserts, would he not leave them to the vengeance of the surrounding

nations?

While Jacob was thus bowed down with trouble, the Lord directed him to

journey southward to Bethel. The thought of this place reminded the

patriarch not only of his vision of the angels and of God’s promises of

mercy, but also of the vow which he had made there, that the Lord should

be his God. He determined that before going to this sacred spot his

household should be freed from the defilement of idolatry. He therefore

gave direction to all in the encampment, “Put away the strange gods that

are among you, and be clean, and change your garments. And let us arise,

and go up to Bethel; and I will make there an altar unto God, who

answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way which

I went.”[304]

With deep emotion, Jacob repeated the story of his first visit to

Bethel, when he left his father’s tent a lonely wanderer, fleeing for

his life, and how the Lord had appeared to him in the night vision. As

he reviewed the wonderful dealings of God with him, his own heart was

softened, his children also were touched by a subduing power; he had

taken the most effectual way to prepare them to join in the worship of

God when they should arrive at Bethel. “And they gave unto Jacob all the

strange gods which were in their hand, and all their earrings which were

in their ears; and Jacob hid them under the oak which was by Shechem.”

God caused a fear to rest upon the inhabitants of the land, so that they

made no attempt to avenge the slaughter at Shechem. The travelers

reached Bethel unmolested. Here the Lord again appeared to Jacob, and

renewed to him the covenant promise. “And Jacob set up a pillar in the

place where He talked with him, even a pillar of stone.”

At Bethel, Jacob was called to mourn the loss of one who had long been

an honored member of his father’s family,—Rebekah’s nurse, Deborah, who

had accompanied her mistress from Mesopotamia to the land of Canaan. The

presence of this aged woman had been to Jacob a precious tie that bound

him to his early life, and especially to the mother whose love for him

had been so strong and tender. Deborah was buried with expressions of so

great sorrow that the oak under which her grave was made, was called

“the oak of weeping.” It should not be passed unnoticed that the memory

of her life of faithful service and of the mourning over this household

friend, has been accounted worthy to be preserved in the word of God.

From Bethel it was only a two days’ journey to Hebron; but it brought to

Jacob a heavy grief in the death of Rachel. Twice seven years’ service

he had rendered for her sake, and his love had made the toil but light.

How deep and abiding that love had been, was shown when long afterward,

as Jacob in Egypt lay near his death, Joseph came to visit his father,

and the aged patriarch, glancing back upon his own life, said, “As for

me, when I came from Padan, Rachel died by me in the land of Canaan in

the way, when yet there was but a little way to come unto Ephrath; and I

buried her there in the way of Ephrath.”[305] In the family history of

his long and troubled life, the loss of Rachel was alone recalled.

Before her death, Rachel gave birth to a second son. With her parting

breath she named the child Benoni, “son of my sorrow.” But his father

called him Benjamin, “son of my right hand” or “my strength.” Rachel was

buried where she died, and a pillar was raised upon the spot to

perpetuate her memory.

On the way to Ephrath, another dark crime stained the family of Jacob,

causing Reuben, the first-born son, to be denied the privileges and

honors of the birthright.

At last Jacob came to his journey’s end, “unto Isaac his father unto

Mamre, ... which is Hebron, where Abraham and Isaac sojourned.”[306]

Here he remained during the closing years of his father’s life. To

Isaac, infirm and blind, the kind attentions of this long-absent son

were a comfort during years of loneliness and bereavement.

Jacob and Esau met at the death-bed of their father. Once the elder

brother had looked forward to this event as an opportunity for revenge;

but his feelings had since greatly changed. And Jacob, well content with

the spiritual blessings of the birthright, resigned to the elder brother

the inheritance of their father’s wealth,—the only inheritance that Esau

sought or valued. They were no longer estranged by jealousy or hatred,

yet they parted, Esau removing to Mount Seir. God, who is rich in

blessing, had granted to Jacob worldly wealth, in addition to the higher

good that he had sought. The possessions of the two brothers “were more

than that they might dwell together; and the land wherein they were

strangers could not bear them because of their cattle.”[307] This

separation was in accordance with the divine purpose concerning Jacob.

Since the brothers differed so greatly in regard to religious faith, it

was better for them to dwell apart.

Esau and Jacob had alike been instructed in the knowledge of God, and

both were free to walk in his commandments and to receive his favor; but

they had not both chosen to do this. The two brothers had walked in

different ways, and their paths would continue to diverge more and more

widely.

There was no arbitrary choice on the part of God, by which Esau was shut

out from the blessings of salvation. The gifts of His grace through

Christ are free to all. There is no election but one’s own by which any

may perish. God has set forth in his word the conditions upon which

every soul will be elected to eternal life—obedience to his

commandments, through faith in Christ. God has elected a character in

harmony with his law, and any one who shall reach the standard of his

requirement, will have an entrance into the kingdom of glory. Christ

himself said, “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life; and

he that believeth not the Son shall not see life.” “Not every one that

saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but

he that _doeth the will of my Father_ which is in heaven.”[308] And in

the Revelation he declares, “Blessed are they that do His commandments,

that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through

the gates into the city.”[309] As regards man’s final salvation, this is

the only election brought to view in the word of God.

Every soul is elected who will work out his own salvation with fear and

trembling. He is elected who will put on the armor, and fight the good

fight of faith. He is elected who will watch unto prayer, who will

search the Scriptures, and flee from temptation. He is elected who will

have faith continually, and who will be obedient to every word that

proceedeth out of the mouth of God. The _provisions_ of redemption are

free to all; the _results_ of redemption will be enjoyed by those who

have complied with the conditions.

Esau had despised the blessings of the covenant. He had valued temporal

above spiritual good, and he had received that which he desired. It was

by his own deliberate choice that he was separated from the people of

God. Jacob had chosen the inheritance of faith. He had endeavored to

obtain it by craft, treachery, and falsehood; but God had permitted his

sin to work out its correction. Yet through all the bitter experience of

his later years, Jacob had never swerved from his purpose or renounced

his choice. He had learned that in resorting to human skill and craft to

secure the blessing, he had been warring against God. From that night of

wrestling beside the Jabbok, Jacob had come forth a different man.

Self-confidence had been uprooted. Henceforth the early cunning was no

longer seen. In place of craft and deception, his life was marked by

simplicity and truth. He had learned the lesson of simple reliance upon

the Almighty Arm; and amid trial and affliction he bowed in humble

submission to the will of God. The baser elements of character were

consumed in the furnace fire, the true gold was refined, until the faith

of Abraham and Isaac appeared undimmed in Jacob.

The sin of Jacob, and the train of events to which it led, had not

failed to exert an influence for evil,—an influence that revealed its

bitter fruit in the character and life of his sons. As these sons

arrived at manhood, they developed serious faults. The results of

polygamy were manifest in the household. This terrible evil tends to dry

up the very springs of love, and its influence weakens the most sacred

ties. The jealousy of the several mothers had imbittered the family

relation, the children had grown up contentious, and impatient of

control, and the father’s life was darkened with anxiety and grief.

There was one, however, of a widely different character,—the elder son

of Rachel, Joseph, whose rare personal beauty seemed but to reflect an

inward beauty of mind and heart. Pure, active, and joyous, the lad gave

evidence also of moral earnestness and firmness. He listened to his

father’s instructions, and loved to obey God. The qualities that

afterward distinguished him in Egypt—gentleness, fidelity, and

truthfulness—were already manifest in his daily life. His mother being

dead, his affections clung the more closely to the father, and Jacob’s

heart was bound up in this child of his old age. He “loved Joseph more

than all his children.”[310]

But even this affection was to become a cause of trouble and sorrow.

Jacob unwisely manifested his preference for Joseph, and this excited

the jealousy of his other sons. As Joseph witnessed the evil conduct of

his brothers, he was greatly troubled; he ventured gently to remonstrate

with them, but only aroused still further their hatred and resentment.

He could not endure to see them sinning against God, and he laid the

matter before his father, hoping that his authority might lead them to

reform.

Jacob carefully avoided exciting their anger by harshness or severity.

With deep emotion he expressed his solicitude for his children, and

implored them to have respect for his gray hairs, and not to bring

reproach upon his name, and above all not to dishonor God by such

disregard of his precepts. Ashamed that their wickedness was known, the

young men seemed to be repentant, but they only concealed their real

feelings, which were rendered more bitter by this exposure.

The father’s injudicious gift to Joseph of a costly coat, or tunic, such

as was usually worn by persons of distinction, seemed to them another

evidence of his partiality, and excited a suspicion that he intended to

pass by his elder children, to bestow the birthright upon the son of

Rachel. Their malice was still further increased as the boy one day told

them of a dream that he had had. “Behold,” he said, “we were binding

sheaves in the field, and, lo, my sheaf arose, and also stood upright;

and, behold, your sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to my

sheaf.”

“Shalt thou indeed reign over us? or shalt thou indeed have dominion

over us?” exclaimed his brothers, in envious anger.

Soon he had another dream, of similar import, which he also related:

“Behold, the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance to

me.” This dream was interpreted as readily as the first. The father, who

was present, spoke reprovingly,—“What is this dream that thou hast

dreamed? Shall I and thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow down

ourselves to thee to the earth?” Notwithstanding the apparent severity

of his words, Jacob believed that the Lord was revealing the future to

Joseph.

As the lad stood before his brothers, his beautiful countenance lighted

up with the Spirit of inspiration, they could not withhold their

admiration; but they did not choose to renounce their evil ways, and

they hated the purity that reproved their sins. The same spirit that

actuated Cain was kindling in their hearts.

The brothers were obliged to move from place to place to secure

pasturage for their flocks, and frequently they were absent from home

for months together. After the circumstances just related, they went to

the place which their father had bought at Shechem. Some time passed,

bringing no tidings from them, and the father began to fear for their

safety, on account of their former cruelty toward the Shechemites. He

therefore sent Joseph to find them, and bring him word as to their

welfare. Had Jacob known the real feeling of his sons toward Joseph, he

would not have trusted him alone with them; but this they had carefully

concealed.

With a joyful heart, Joseph parted from his father, neither the aged man

nor the youth dreaming of what would happen before they should meet

again. When, after his long and solitary journey, Joseph arrived at

Shechem, his brothers and their flocks were not to be found. Upon

inquiring for them, he was directed to Dothan. He had already traveled

more than fifty miles, and now an additional distance of fifteen lay

before him, but he hastened on, forgetting his weariness in the thought

of relieving the anxiety of his father, and meeting the brothers, whom,

despite their unkindness, he still loved.