Genesis 23: Part of a Bigger Panorama

I see the New Testament in Genesis 22, 23 & 24. Let me explain how. 

Start with Genesis 23. Genesis 23 begins with the death of Sarah in Hebron. Abraham gets word of her death and goes to weep over her. The language implies they are in separate places when she passes away. 

Soon enough, Abraham rises to find a place worthy of Sarah’s burial. As Rabbi Hirsch writes, “His wife is to rest in a place that will be her permanent burial site, and for this purpose, Abraham seeks to acquire a piece of land in perpetuity. For many years he has dwelt in Canaan as a stranger; despite all his wealth, he has never sought to acquire even a square foot of land. But now the necessity to bury his wife forces him, for the first time, to make a permanent acquisition of land. His wife’s grave is to be the first bond that will tie him to the land; it is to be the place that will draw him and hold him” (The Hirsch Chumash, Bereshis, pg. 503).

He goes to the locals in Hebron and purchases a piece of property. On his new property, he buries his wife in a cave at the far end of a field. In time, this cave will become an extremely holy site. Abraham himself will be buried there, as will Isaac, Rebekah, Jacob, and Leah. 

Examining the whole of Genesis 23, we’ll find that the chapter is characterized by ongoing repetitions. Every point—every article of property—is repeated and reiterated: “So the field of Ephron in Machpelah, east of Mamre—the field with the cave in it and all the trees in the field, throughout its whole area—was made over to Abraham as a possession in the presence of the Hittites, before all who went in at the gate of his city.” Further, “…the cave of Machpelah, before Mamre, that is Hebron in the land of Canaan . . . the field and the cave deeded to Abraham by the sons of Heth as a property for a burial place” (23:19-20). Genesis leaves no room for ambiguity as it itemizes the conditions, the details, and the witnesses involved. In this way the text reads like a legal document, a deed with all its stipulations. And rightfully so, because it marks one of the most historic transactions ever made: the first piece of Holy Land ever procured by a Hebrew. 

The chapter is significant for other reasons. Stand back for a second. Look at the panorama into which Genesis 23 fits. In sight now are chapters 22, 23 & 24.

Looks a lot like the New Testament, doesn’t it? 

The Father gives up His only begotten Son, Jesus. The spend buys back the earth; the field is purchased. What follows is the death of His beloved Jerusalem. The Jewish people scatter; Israel goes “underground” so to speak. The Father sends His Holy Spirit into the world to find a bride for His Son. The Holy Spirit returns with a bride. The Son brings His bride into the New Jerusalem. The whole earth is theirs because the field has been justly purchased. 

This deserves some unpacking. First, a look at Jerusalem. We see Jerusalem through Sarah: Sarah is a mother, and Jesus personifies Jerusalem as a mother:

• “And when Jesus drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you...’” (Luke 19:41-44).

• “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord’” (Matthew 23:37-39).

What an amazing thing to consider, that the whole of the New Testament is hinted at here in Genesis 22, 23 & 24!

Genesis 24: Eliezer and the Holy Spirit

Weighing in at 67 verses, Genesis 24 is the biggest chapter in all of Genesis. Yet at first glance, it tells a modest story: a servant goes on a mission to find a bride for his master’s son. Why does this deserve so much real estate in Genesis?

Genesis 24 reminds me of a scene where two guys are on a flight over the ocean. Hours go by. One guy is looking out the window and says, “Man, the ocean is huge!” The other guy says, “Yeah and that’s just the top of it.” 

Chapter 24, the longest in Genesis, is just like that: lengthy in size but that’s just the top of it. Half-jokingly, I like to say Genesis 24 is when God sits down and says, “Okay, let me help you understand the Holy Spirit.”

Who is Eliezer?

We meet Eliezer back in Genesis 15, where Abraham says if he should remain childless, his house would fall to Eliezer of Damascus (15:2). From this comment, we gather that Eliezer is Abraham’s chief steward, a servant so esteemed he’s positioned to inherit Abraham’s estate. 

Eliezer is my pick to land the starring role in Genesis 24. What complicates things is that Chapter 24 occurs some 55 years later, and it never refers to the servant by name. He is only called “Abraham’s servant” or “the servant.” We are told he is the oldest servant who “had charge of all that Abraham had” (24:2), but that’s all we get. Ultimately, knowing the servant’s identity is not necessary, but I am going to assume it is Eliezer for the time being.  

At this point, I am going to assume you have read Genesis 24 in full. Having read the story, let’s pause to see the characters through a broader lens:

• Abraham is the Father. 
• Isaac is the Son. 
• The father’s servant, Eliezer, is an extension of the father; he is the Holy Spirit. 
• Rebekah is the Son’s Bride – you.

Let’s now use Genesis 24 to explore this question: What can Eliezer teach us about the Holy Spirit?

1. The Holy Spirit has a mission. He goes into the world to seek and retrieve a Bride for the Son, just like Eliezer goes into the world to seek and retrieve a bride for Isaac.
2. The Holy Spirit is sent by the Father on behalf of the Son, just like Eliezer is sent by Abraham to find a bride for Isaac.
3. The Holy Spirit works to fulfill God’s covenant with Abraham, as did Eliezer’s work.
4. The Holy Spirit’s actions are the actions of the Father. The servant is not named in Genesis 24 because he is to be seen as an extension of Abraham himself. Their identities are intertwined. So too are the identities of the Holy Spirit and God the Father intertwined. 
5. The Holy Spirit finds expression in humility, prayer, and worship. Three times in one chapter we see Eliezer bowing and worshipping the Lord. 
6. The Holy Spirit defies human logic. We see this pictured by Eliezer in the strange way he goes about finding Rebekah. Had he acted according to human logic, he would have sought to learn the whereabouts of Abraham’s extended family (because she had to be related to Abraham, per 24:4). Then he would have knocked on their door, introduced himself, and asked to meet their daughters. Instead, Eliezer visits a community well where everyone in town comes to draw water. He prays that the first girl who gives him water would be the girl for Isaac. What a strange strategy! The odds that the first stranger to offer him water would be a relative of Abraham are slim to none. And yet, it works perfectly. In parallel with the Holy Spirit, the Spirit isn’t concerned with making sense on paper. The Holy Spirit defies the limits of human logic. 
7. The Holy Spirit acts with eagerness. In the story, Eliezer runs to Rebekah (24:17). It is with eagerness he initiates their interaction. In like manner, the Holy Spirit runs to the Bride. 
8. The Holy Spirit is not held responsible if you are unwilling to respond. See 24:8.
9. The Holy Spirit gets excited about a sensitive heart. Just look at Eliezer: he doesn’t stage a beauty contest or find the richest girl in town. Instead he looks for a girl with kindness and compassion in her heart. His “interview” involves two aspects: Part 1 is a spoken need: “I am thirsty.” Part 2 is an unspoken need: My camels are thirsty, too. Will she notice? Rebekah not only meets the spoken need, but she also perceives and satisfies the unspoken need. She sees past the obvious and takes action. 
10. The Holy Spirits gives gifts and fruit, as does Eliezer. In 24:53, Eliezer gives gifts and garments to Rebekah. To her family, he gives precious things (also translated as costly ornaments). But note, “This term precious things (as found in Songs 4:13) is used to express exquisite fruits or delicacies” (Source). Rashi agrees, translating it to say delicious fruits (Source). I like this reading because it yields an insight. Eliezer gives gifts to the bride but deliciious fruit to her family. The fruit is not for Rebekah, but because of Rebekah. In like manner, the believer receives gifts from the Spirit, but the fruit is intended for others.
11. The Holy Spirit stays in motion. Notice how Eliezer doesn’t like delay. He tells Laban “Do not delay me” when Laban wants Rebekah to stay for another ten days (24:56). Eliezer doesn’t want to wait around. 
12. The Bride and the Holy Spirit go on a journey together before she comes face-to-face with the Son. Rebekah and Eliezer travel together; they journey toward Abraham’s residence beyond the horizon. Note their dynamic: Eliezer is returning home while Rebekah is venturing toward a place she has never seen. She follows Eliezer wherever he guides her. Even though she has not laid eyes on the son yet, already she is his bride. 
13. Her ministry is connected to her journey home. Rebekah is carried by the very camels she watered the day before, the camels of Eliezer. 
14. The Holy Spirit serves the Son and His purposes. Eliezer may manage Abraham’s estate, but Isaac is the owner of that estate. There is a similar dynamic between the Holy Spirit and Jesus. The Holy Spirit may manage the Master’s affairs, but everything ultimately belongs to the Son. Reference John 16:13-15 where the Son says, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority . . . He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” The authority belongs to the Son.
15. The Bride learns her testimony through the voice of the Holy Spirit. Can you believe this is illustrated in Genesis 24? We see that after meeting at the well, Eliezer and Rebekah go to her house. At her house, Eliezer speaks to her family and recounts their special encounter. As Rebekah listens, she comes to understand more about herself. Think about it: back when she was drawing water for the camels, she focused only on the task at hand. She had no idea what these acts of kindness would lead to. She doesn’t put it all together until she hears it through Eliezer’s voice as he tells the story. Something special then takes place. It works the same way with our own testimony. When we deeply reflect on our past and consider how God brought us to Him, we recount certain moments that, at the time, may have seemed ordinary or commonplace. But later we perceive them differently. We hear them through the voice of the Spirit. 
16. The Holy Spirit introduces the Bride to the Son. During her journey with Eliezer, Rebekah does not see Isaac. She merely anticipates meeting him in person. Finally, at the end, she lays eyes on him in the distance. She asks Eliezer, “Who is that man walking toward us?” And Eliezer says, “That is my master.” I love this so much because we journey toward a Messiah whom we have never seen face-to-face. But we come to know Him in advance through what the Spirit reveals to us as we walk together. In time, the Spirit will introduce us in person. 

The Tower of Babel: Thoughts & Commentary

In Genesis 11, our camera pans across an open plain where we see a gathering of all humankind. 

The powerful elite issue their decree to the masses: “Come, let us make bricks. Let us build a city with a tower that reaches to the heavens. We will make a name for ourselves” (11:3-4). In response, God issues His decree. He tells His angels, “Come, let us go down and confuse their language” (11:7).

It’s like a battle scene where two impressive forces rush the field from opposite sides, except in this case, the battlefield is vertical. It’s heaven vs. earth. Earth is advancing on heaven to annex new territory for itself, but heaven counters in a surprise attack, falling upon man’s headquarters, infiltrating their tower and confusing their communications. The people scatter, leaving the tower in disarray. God and His great army return home, victorious. The credits roll and Psalm 89 plays...

Let the heavens praise your wonders, O Lord,

    your faithfulness in the assembly of the holy ones!

For who in the skies can be compared to the Lord? . . .

The heavens are yours; the earth also is yours;

    the world and all that is in it, you have founded them.

Maybe that’s how I would pitch Babel: The Movie. But you know, Genesis 11 is an awesome drama no matter how you cut it. The real thing is even better than a movie. 

In Genesis 11, man has devised a clever plan. The powerful few plan to effectively recreate Adam. With all humanity concentrated in a single structure under one headship, speaking one language, then in theory they would wield as much power as Adam once had. Under such a model, nothing would be impossible for them (11:6). Unfortunately, their aim is not Come let us glorify God. Instead, their rallying cry is Come let us make a name for ourselves. 

My favorite insights about Genesis 11 come from Rabbi Hirsch and Rabbi Daniel Lapin. I think you’ll find them as thought provoking as I have.

Writing in the 1800s, Rabbi Hirsch observes that, when we’re reading Genesis 11, we’re standing at the threshold of world history, when post-flood man has come to recognize the great power of the collective and its ability to master nature. The tower is a symbol: it symbolizes the preeminence of the collective over the individual. Without safeguards in place to keep the collective in check, the individual is gradually nullified.  

Hirsch writes, “If the community presents itself as an end instead of a means to an end, then mankind’s whole moral future is lost . . . The individual is expected to sacrifice his life for the collective, and the collective renounces its allegiance to the individual.” Had Hirsch lived to see WWII, he probably would’ve pointed to the way Russia treated its solders in battle. Many times, Russia’s strategy resorted to “just throw more bodies at the problem until it goes away.” One soldier’s death meant nothing; what mattered was the glory of Mother Russia, whatever the cost. 

Rabbi Lapin adds flavor to Hirsch’s observation, calling Genesis 11 an ancient warning forwarded to all future citizens of history. In Lapin’s words, the tower represents the State when it suppresses the individual for the sake of its own glory. In a brilliant conversation, he contrasts bricks and stones. Bricks are manufactured to be exactly the same. They are interchangeable, easily positioned, and, if necessary, easily replaced. The State (once corrupted) would mold its citizens into bricks. When the bricks have been made, all effort can be devoted to the tower which will never be finished. 

The citizens of the kingdom of heaven are not bricks but stones, living stones (1 Peter 2:5). Stones are each unique; their composition, shape, and texture vary. As a building material, each stone makes its own contribution, a contribution that’s retained among the whole, not lost among sameness. This is God’s intention for the individual even as He calls them together. He doesn’t want sameness; he wants a mosaic that reflects His creativity and zeal for diversity.  

On the topic of stones and bricks, compare the only two man-made structures mentioned between the flood and Abraham. Compare Noah’s altar and Babel’s tower: 

• One is made of stones; one is made of bricks. 
• One is made by an individual; one is made by a collective. 
• One is built to glorify God; one is built to elevate man.

Of the two, which rose higher? 

You might say it was the tower, but no, God had to go down from heaven to reach the tower. It was actually the other structure––Noah’s altar––that rose higher, because it reached God all the way in heaven (8:21).

Unrelated to bricks and stones but connected to the Tower of Babel, here’s something intriguing.  Let’s put two puzzling verses side-by-side to see how one lends light to the other. First, go and read Genesis 3:22-23, then read Genesis 11:6. 

Notice:

• If God does not intervene in Genesis 3, then man will live forever. 
• If God does not intervene in Genesis 11, then nothing man proposes will be impossible. 

Living forever? Accomplishing the impossible? Both seem like positive things, so why does God intervene to prevent them from happening?

Context is clutch. 

• In the context of 3:22, sin has corrupted our being with selfishness and shame. To live forever in this pitiful condition is to be forever separated from the life God wanted us to experience. 
• In the context of 11:6, the collective has secured its dominance over the individual. In this situation, the individual is powerless and without agency. Nothing will stop the collective from getting what it wants, and ultimately the collective wants whatever the ruling powers set their eye on. 

So then...

• God separates man from the Tree of Life so that we may escape our fallen state. 
• God separates man from man so that we may escape a fallen State.