SCANDAL! SCANDAL! Read All About It!

Genesis 20 is scandalous! 

First we have to understand the celebrity of Abraham. Abraham is a very wealthy man (Genesis 13:2). He has dealings with kings and pharaoh (12:16; 14:17-18). His possessions are great (13:6). More than 300 men work for him (14:14), and those 300 men presumably have wives and children of their own. Suffice to say, Abraham’s name carries quite a bit of recognition in the region.

Next, we need to understand that Abraham’s covenant relationship with God is well known. In Genesis 17, Abraham circumcises “all the men of his house, those born in the house and those bought with money from a foreigner” (17:27). Everyone in his household is aware of the covenant. They know of God’s promise to make Abraham a great nation. And God has made it very clear that He will fulfill this promise through Sarah, Abraham’s wife.

Now check it out: After acquiring all this celebrity, Abraham releases his wife Sarah to King Abimelech! In Genesis 20:2 we learn that Sarah stays in Abimelech’s house. We turn the page to Genesis 21 and, well, guess who’s pregnant?! 

Sarah!

Said at a whisper: Is Sarah pregnant with Abimelech’s baby?

You and I know better––of course she’s not. The Torah is clear: Abimelech does not touch Sarah (see 20:4, 20:6). After returning her to Abraham, Abimelech gives Abraham a thousand pieces of silver as a sign of her innocence. He tells her, “...before everyone you are vindicated” (20:16).  

But then she’s pregnant. And you know how it is. During those long days in the field, the shepherds get to talking. The wives of the shepherds get to talking. “Did you hear Sarah’s pregnant?” “Oh? Didn’t she spend the night at Abimelech’s house recently?” “Abimelech said he didn’t do anything with her.” “Oh yeah... riiight...” 

If this story occurred in Hollywood today, the front page of the tabloids would read: “SCANDAL! SARAH PREGNANT WITH PHILISTINE BABY.” It would have a paparazzi picture of Abraham, head down, set beneath a snapshot of Sarah and Abimelech disappearing behind closed doors. The edition would sell well despite it being very untrue. 

I’d sooner believe the Torah than a tabloid. Genesis 25:19 relates to this “scandal” as it starts this way: “These are the generations of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham fathered Isaac, and Isaac was . . .”

I have italicized the redundancy. It would have been enough to say “These are the generations of Isaac: Isaac was . . .” so on and so forth. But the text goes out of its way to stress the fact that Isaac is, indeed, the son of Abraham. In response to the Abimelech scandal, Genesis 25:19 leaves nothing to question. Isaac is, without a doubt, Abraham’s son. So shepherds––despite what you may have heard in the fields––the boy is Abraham’s!

Can you think of anyone else in the Bible whose birth occurred under “scandalous” circumstances?

Genesis 23: Part of a Larger Portrait

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 that they are in separate places when she passes away. 

When Abraham breaks from his mourning, he rises to find a place worthy of Sarah’s burial. “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. After all, his calling is to be a wanderer. 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 Hittites in Hebron and there, at the city gates, he negotiates a real estate deal. Abraham has a certain cave in mind so he speaks directly to the property owner. The owner prices the property at 400 shekels. A high price according to all commentators, but without complaint Abraham pays the 400 shekels in full. Having acquired the property, he buries his wife in the cave at the end of the field. In time, this cave will become the burial site of Abraham himself, as well as that of Isaac and Rebekah and even Jacob and Leah. Today the cave––a very holy site––can be visited in Hebron. 

Examining the whole of Genesis 23, we’ll find that the chapter is characterized by ongoing repetitions. Every point is repeated and reiterated. Verse 17 enumerates every article of the property: “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). The Torah leaves no room for ambiguity as it itemizes the conditions, the details, and the witnesses involved. In this way Genesis 23 constitutes a kind of legal document, a contract or a deed with all its stipulations. As such, this chapter marks one of the most historic transactions ever made: the first piece of Holy Land ever procured by a Hebrew. If for nothing else, Genesis 23 is significant for this reason alone.

It is significant for other reasons, though. Let’s stand back and behold the wider 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. Her people go into hiding, “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 where He is with her in the same space that was vacated by the Father’s bride. 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 note how 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).

Following the tragic events in 70 AD, God’s beloved Jerusalem passes away, the Father mourns, and her tent becomes vacant. But the story is not over. God sends His Spirit to return a Bride to the land. And here, in this special place, His Son and the Bride take up residence. From that day on, they never depart from the land just like Isaac and his bride never left the land.  

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

Let’s part with one last note about Genesis 23. It is a detail revealed only in the Hebrew. The high price that Abraham paid to secure the field in perpetuity was 400 shekels. What is the significance of the number 400? 

400 is the value of the last letter in the Hebrew alphabet, the letter tav (ת). The letter tav represents a cross. And isn’t that perfect? Because it is with the cross that God settles an enormous expense; it is with the cross (the 400) that He acquires the title deed of the earth (see Revelation 5:9). Like Abraham, God secures a place in which His family can spend their future together, at rest. 

Except there is one difference: with God, He and His family spend their future together not dead but alive forever.

Genesis 24: Eliezer and the Holy Spirit

Weighing in at 67 verses, Genesis 24 is the biggest chapter in all of Genesis. 

Genesis is a history so epic its every story could fill up libraries, yet Genesis 24 is given more shelf space than any other chapter. It tells of a servant’s mission to find a bride for his master’s son. Why does this story deserve so much real estate in a book as grandiose as Genesis?

Genesis 24 reminds me of a scene where two guys are flying over the Pacific Ocean in a commercial airliner. Hours and hours go by. One guy keeps looking out the window when, finally, he turns to the other guy and says, “Man, the ocean is BIG.” The other guy says, “Yeah – and that’s just the top of it.” 

Genesis 24, the longest in Genesis, is just like that: big and broad but that’s just the top of it. Half-jokingly, I like to say Genesis 24 is when God sits down and says, “I’d like to tell you more about the Holy Spirit.”

Who is Eliezer?

Eliezer is Abraham’s #1 servant. We meet him back when Abraham says that, if he should remain childless, the heir of his house would fall to Eliezer of Damascus (Genesis 15:2). From this comment we gather that Eliezer of Damascus is Abraham’s chief steward, a servant so esteemed he could have inherited Abraham’s estate. 

Based on what we know, Eliezer is the most likely candidate to land the leading role in Genesis 24. In Genesis 24, Abraham commissions his servant to complete a mission-critical task: find a bride for his son, Isaac, to continue the family line. Given the scale of what’s at stake, it’s hard to imagine Abraham entrusting this ask to anyone except his most trusted servant, Eliezer. But interestingly, the servant is never named despite his central role in the chapter. Instead, the chapter refers to him as “Abraham’s servant” or as “the servant,” the man who “had charge of all that Abraham had” (24:2). It is by design that the servant (most likely Eliezer) is not named, because in this chapter, the servant is to be seen as an extension of Abraham. We will see why that is important. 

[At this point, I strongly encourage you to read Genesis 24 unless it is already fresh on your mind.]

Having read the story, let’s pause to see the characters through a different lens:

• Abraham is the Father. 
• Isaac is the Son. 
• The father’s servant, Eliezer, is the Holy Spirit. 
• Rebekah is the Church, the Son’s Bride – by extension, you.

Since Eliezer stars in this chapter, we will keep the spotlight on him. Borrowing parallels from Genesis 24, here are ways to answer the following question: 

What does 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.
2. The Holy Spirit is sent. He is sent by the Father on behalf of the Son.
3. The Holy Spirit works to fulfill God’s covenant with Abraham.
4. The Holy Spirit’s actions are the actions of the Father. Eliezer is not mentioned by name in Genesis 24 because he is to be seen as an extension of Abraham himself. Their identities are 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 rescues the lost. Eliezer is a war hero, one who goes into battle to rescue the lost. Although this detail comes from a separate story (Genesis 14), it is worth noting in the context of this discussion. 
7. The Holy Spirit defies human logic. Had Eliezer acted logically, he would have found a bride for Isaac entirely different. He would have entered the city and gathered intelligence to learn the whereabouts of Abraham’s extended family. Then he would have knocked on their door, introduced himself, and asked to meet their daughters. Instead, Eliezer visits a community well where anyone and everyone comes to draw water. He prays that the first girl to give him water would be the one for Isaac (and remember, eligible candidates must be a relative of Abraham per Gen. 24:4). This is 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. And it teaches us something about the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit isn’t concerned with making sense on paper. The Holy Spirit defies boundaries inked by human logic. 
8. 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 you. 
9. The Holy Spirit is not held responsible if you are unwilling to respond. See 24:8.
10. The Holy Spirit adorns you. In Scripture, the first time we encounter the idea of a woman being adorned with jewelry is in Genesis 24. 
11. The Holy Spirit gets excited about someone with a sensitive heart. Eliezer doesn’t stage a beauty contest or look for 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 request: “I am thirsty” he tells her. Part 2 is never verbalized: My camels are thirsty, too. Will she notice? Rebekah not only meets the spoken need, she also perceives and addresses the unspoken need. She sees past the obvious and cares enough to act on it. 
12. The Holy Spirits gives gifts and fruit. In 24:53, Eliezer gives gifts and garments to Rebekah and precious things to her family. Some translations say costly ornaments; mine says precious things. Note, “This term rendered 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 fruit to her family. The fruit is not for Rebekah, but because of Rebekah. In like manner, the believer is given gifts by the Spirit. The fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, etc.) are enjoyed by everyone else, presented because of the believer.
13. The Holy Spirit wants to act. 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. 
14. You and the Holy Spirit go on a journey together. On their return to Abraham and Isaac, note the dynamic between Eliezer and Rebekah. Eliezer is returning to a familiar place while Rebekah is venturing toward her new home, a home 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. 
15. Your ministry is connected to your journey home. Rebekah is carried to Isaac by the very camels she watered the day before. Eliezer is who brought the camels to her. 
16. 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 certain 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.
17. You learn your testimony through the voice of the Holy Spirit. In Genesis 24, Eliezer and Rebekah meet at a well and then go to her house. At her house, their special encounter is relayed to her family. As Rebekah listens to Eliezer retell the story of their encounter, 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 would come of her actions. She doesn’t put it all together until she hears it through Eliezer’s voice as he recounts the events to others. Something special then takes place. It works the same way with our own testimony. Any time we reflect on our past and consider how God brought us to Him, we recount certain moments that, at the time, may have seemed mundane or commonplace. But later we perceive them differently. Those moments become special to us once we hear them through the voice of the Spirit. 
18. The Holy Spirit introduces you 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 met in person. 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 to one another in person. 

Genesis 5: More interesting than you might think!

Genesis 5 is a connect-the-dots chapter where God draws a line from Adam to Noah. At the surface it is a list of descendants spanning 10 generations. Beneath the surface, the meaning of each name preaches the Gospel message:

Man (is) appointed mortal, sorrow, (but) blessed God shall come down, teaching. His death shall bring, the despairing, rest. As Chuck Missler says, “You will never convince me that a group of Jewish rabbis conspired to hide the Christian Gospel right here in a genealogy within their venerated Torah!”

Just as the Gospel message relates to every man on earth, it’s interesting to think these ten men are related to every person on earth. These guys are the fathers - the great(x) grandfathers - of the beggar in rural India and the Pope in Rome. It’s very possible that when God looked upon these ten men, in them He saw you, me, and every person we will ever meet. Seeded within these ten men was every storyline history would ever know. 

This is especially interesting in light of the previous chapter. In the previous chapter, Genesis 4, Cain kills his brother Abel. After the murder God tells Cain, “...Your brother’s bloods cry out to me from the ground” (Genesis 4:10). In a Hebrew Torah scroll, the word “blood” is plural! Abel’s bloods cried out to God.

The commentators have puzzled over this for years. Its plural form must have implications. One interpretation is that when Cain killed Abel, he didn’t just end the life of one man. He ended the life of Abel’s entire lineage! Here’s how Matthew Poole’s Commentary puts it: “In the Hebrew it is bloods to charge Cain with the murder of all those that might naturally have come out of Abel’s loins” (Source). And now the victims of Cain––not just Abel but also his unborn descendants––cry out to God from the ground. 

Perhaps we can think of it this way. Imagine that God has carefully arranged a line of dominos. He taps the first one to set the rest in motion. But somewhere along the way, you snatch a domino before it has a chance to touch the next one in line. This creates a void in God’s arrangement. What does that void do to the rest of the line? Those dominos remain there, yes, but they never come to life so to speak. 

So it goes when Abel is murdered: his line is stunted, and those set to come through him are forever frozen in a state of potential. Of course, you and I don’t see this unrealized potential, but can God see it? Genesis 4 suggests He does. In fact, the unborn descendants cry out to Him like prisoners in a jail cell. They cry out from the ground, the very thing God used to form man, a thing that can bear God’s image no longer. 

This idea may sound far-fetched but look at how Jesus associates unforgiveness with murder. In Matthew 18, we read, “Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.’” Jesus, a master at the Torah, is borrowing the language from Genesis 4. 

In Genesis 4, we read about Cain’s descendant, Lamech. Lamech chooses violence over forgiveness when he kills a young man for wounding him. And Lamech says, “...if Cain is avenged seven times, then Lamech will be avenged 77 times.” Whereas Lamech uses this language in the context of murder, Jesus uses it in the context of forgiveness. Jesus borrows the same language to associate unforgiveness with murder. For example, if I do not forgive you, then I essentially cut you out of my life. Your presence in my world ceases to exist. This is murder in a spiritual sense. And when I do this––when I choose the path of unforgiveness––the relationship between us dies, and the fruit of that relationship never takes life. Like the lost lineage of Abel, the potential between us goes unrealized. But not in God’s purview because He sees what is lost. He sees what could have been. 

Thinking back on Abel’s bloods crying out to God from the ground, I think it goes to show how appalled God is by murder and unforgiveness. Cain’s murder didn’t end the life of a single man; it ended the life-possibility of many after him. Unforgiveness isn’t just a one-and-done violation; it’s a violation that eliminates more possibilities than you and I will never understand. 

I said earlier that Abel’s descendants were “jailed” in a state of potential. Well, in keeping with that analogy, God hears their cries and sees fit to bail them out. By God’s gracious intervention, Abel’s descendants escape the violence of Cain even if Abel does not. At least, I believe this is how Eve sees it. Here is why. 

Genesis 4:25: “And Adam knew his wife again, and she bore a son and called his name Seth, for she said, ‘God has appointed for me another offspring instead of Abel, for Cain killed him.’” This verse holds the key. 

“Seeing as Adam and Eve were commanded to reproduce, it might be assumed that Cain was born pretty early, perhaps a year or two after Creation Week. Abel was born after that, but not necessarily next. His name appears next, but this is because he is an important part of the story. Yet even if Abel was the second child, it is unlikely that Seth was the third . . . Since Seth was prophetically named by his mother (his name sounds like “he appointed” in Hebrew), it is reasonable to suspect that he was the first son born after Abel died. This means there may have been sons born between Abel and Seth” (Source).

It is not meaningful whether Seth is their third son or their 15th. It is more meaningful to see that Seth is the first son born after Abel’s death. This would explain why Eve links the two of them together. In her eyes, God had predestined this newborn son (Seth) to stand in the shoes of the son she just lost (Abel). Seth isn’t just another child; he is an in place of child. 

As far as Eve is concerned, every child that Abel was supposed to have Seth will have instead. Seth has been appointed by God to live in Abel’s place. 

In this way, God does His first great work of restoration. He appoints Seth to take the place of Abel. And so Seth, in Abel’s place, goes on to have the children that Abel never would. We might say Genesis 5 follows Abel’s descendants that were born to Seth instead. The unnamed bloods that cried out to God one chapter earlier are the very people born to Seth in Genesis 5. And so, we see then that God answered their plea. He introduced a substitute to restore their lives. 

And one thing I so love about this idea: Jesus comes out of the line of Seth. If Seth is the replacement of Abel, then in Abel’s bloods was the very voice of Messiah! Messiah Himself was calling out to God! What an interesting thought to think: that God would use substitution to save the Messiah so that Messiah, through an act of substitution, would save the world and bring the despairing rest. 

The Tower of Babel: Thoughts & Commentary

The camera pans across an open plain and there we see a gathering of mankind. 

The most powerful among them tell the surrounding peoples, “Come, let us make bricks” (11:3). And then, “Come, let us build a city with a tower that reaches to the heavens . . . We will make a name for ourselves” (11:4). God hears this and tells an army of angels, “Come, let us go down and confuse their language” (11:7).

Here’s the tension: When the globalists call together a let’s go up!, the heavens call together a let’s go down! It’s like a battle scene where two impressive forces rush the field toward one another. Except, in this case, the battlefield is vertical. It’s heaven versus earth. Earth is advancing on heaven, looking to annex new territory for itself, but God organizes a counter-offensive to protect what is His. His heavenly army falls upon the earthly city, infiltrates their tower, and confuses the frequency of their communications. The people scatter. Their defeat is swift. God and His angels return to Heaven 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?

    Who among the heavenly beings is like the Lord,

God greatly to be feared in the council of the holy ones,

    and awesome above all who are around him?

O Lord God of hosts,

    who is mighty as you are, O Lord,

    with your faithfulness all around you?

The heavens are yours; the earth also is yours;

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

That would be the movie I suppose. But I must say, mankind has come up with a clever idea in Genesis 11. They have devised a plan to effectively recreate Adam. With all humanity concentrated in a single structure under one aim, one language, and one headship, then in theory, mankind would wield as much power as Adam had. Even God says nothing would be impossible for them (11:6). Unfortunately their aim is not Let us glorify God as Adam did; let us serve Him with our united energies. Instead, their driving motivation is Let us make a name for ourselves. 

As readers, we ought to appreciate the significance of the story. Here we stand at the threshold of world history, when post-flood man comes to recognize the great power of community to overcome and master nature. Commenting on the passage, Rabbi Hirsch explains how their leaders decided to create a tower that would dominate the skyline. This structure would preach the preeminence of community over the individual. The individual, so limited by personal constraints, gradually becomes nullified by the collective.  

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 idol of hollow aims is created, aims that bring about no blessing. For the sake of these aims, the individual is expected to sacrifice his life, and the community renounces its allegiance to the individual. Individuals, of course, weep at the loss of a loved one, but when the community builds its edifice of glory, the toll in human life is of no importance. The community says: “Let us burn whatever there is, never mind what we destroy, as long as it will aid in building the edifice of our fame, renown, and glory.” Millions may die, yet the community is easily comforted and adds new layers onto the edifice of glory. Thus, the community becomes an end in itself. The community no longer exists for the sake of the individual. Instead, individual members are compelled or enticed to submit and sacrifice themselves for the whole.”

Suffice it to say, Genesis 11 is an ancient warning forwarded to all future citizens of history. The tower represents the State and its suppression of the individual. But God builds His spiritual house with individuals. 1 Peter 2:5 refers to us believers not as bricks but as living stones. Stones, like people, are each unique; no two are exactly alike. Meanwhile the State would hope to turn stones into bricks. Bricks are manufactured to be exactly the same. They are interchangeable, easily stacked, and easily replaced. 

Again, the tower represents the State and its suppression of the individual. As we think about this, I want to compare/contrast two structures not far apart in the Bible: the tower built by the people in the plain of Shinar and the altar built by Noah in the mountains of Ararat. 

• Both of these structures are built (banah, בנה) by man. In both cases, a large portion of humanity is involved. (Noah is 1/8th of the world’s population when he builds his altar.) 
• Babel’s structure is made of bricks; Noah’s is made of stone. 
• Babel’s is a collective work; Noah’s is a personal work. 
• Babel’s is dedicated to man’s glory; Noah’s is dedicated to God’s glory. 
• Babel’s elevates Babel; Noah’s elevates all the earth. (As it is said, his altar of stone is a continuum of earth, lifting it heavenward.) 
• Babel’s sends up a spirit of pride; Noah’s sends up a spirit of humility. 
• Babel’s tower rises high into the sky; Noah’s “tower” is only a few feet tall yet it ascends far higher. 
• Babel’s structure seeks to reach the heavens yet God has to go down to it. 
• Noah’s structure reaches the heavens because it comes up to God as a pleasing aroma. 

One last note: 

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

Living forever? Accomplishing the impossible? Both seem like positive things. Why would God intervene to prevent such things from happening?

Context is clutch. 

• In the context of Genesis 3, to live forever in a fallen world is to be forever separated from life as God intended it. 
• In the context of Genesis 11, to accomplish anything we propose is to accomplish nothing that you propose. 
• God separates man from the Tree of Life so that we may escape our fallen state. 
• God separates man from one collective so that we may escape a fallen State.  

God's Friend, Abraham

The Bible starts in Genesis 12. 

Obviously it doesn’t, but here’s what I mean. Prior to Genesis 12, we are hurtling through time at break-neck speeds! Genesis 1 sends us through millions of years. Genesis 2 to 6 sends us through more than a thousand years. 6 to 11 sends us through hundreds of years. Imagine: you’re in a rocket ship advancing at a pace that keeps up with the narrative. Moving through Genesis 1, you’re a blur through space. Approaching Genesis 2 you begin to slow but you’re still zipping ahead at notable velocity. Incredible stories go by in the blink of an eye. You barely have time to make out the characters of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel. In a moment you’re a thousand years ahead of them. You’re braking hard now. Your ship shakes violently as it pierces the dark clouds above the flood. It’s decelerating fast. You catch a quick glance of Noah and his family before your rocket sails past. You narrowly miss hitting the top floor of the tower of Babel as you descend and decelerate toward the surface. Then it happens: the opening of Genesis 12. 

Your ship touches down and slows to a stop at the end of a runway. There before you––no more than 20 feet away––stands a 75-year old shepherd clutching his staff. You see him through your windshield, but he doesn’t seem to notice your presence. God now invites you to exit the rocket and join him for a long walk through a barren countryside. You’re going to shadow him for the next 13 chapters or so, advancing at the pace of a man on foot. Compared to the outrageous speeds you’ve been traveling, Genesis 12 is the beginning of a whole new experience. It’s as if the Torah has been hurrying you along just to get you to this one man and his family. It’s like God’s been so excited for you to meet him and He just couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to introduce you to His friend, His companion, this shepherd named Abraham. 

When we first meet him, his name is Abram. Already 75 years old, Abram is very special in God’s eyes, so much so that he is called God’s friend (James 2:23). Unbelievably, he is the man whom God treated as an equal. 

Say what?! How can the Creator of the universe treat a man as His equal? 

It’s because God is a lot more humble than we might think! 

Do not hear me lifting Abraham up to God’s level. By no means! Abraham is but dust and ashes. Abraham himself wouldn’t dare do such a thing. What I am saying is, God, in a stunning act of grace and humility, bent down and treated Abraham as an equal. He humbled Himself enough to do the unthinkable: to initiate a blood covenant with a mere mortal! A blood covenant is done on level ground between equals, between committed friends. And as we follow this man Abram (soon to be Abraham) over the coming years, we find that he really is God’s friend. Allow me to make the case.

In Genesis 18, God and Abraham are walking together. They come to a mountaintop, or a cliff’s edge, and they look down at the city of Sodom. It is soon to be destroyed. And we read this: “Then the Lord said, ‘Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?’” (Genesis 18:17). 

Read it again because what a special piece of Scripture! It’s a rare glimpse into God’s private thinking. God knows that He is about to destroy Sodom, and here it’s like He says to Himself, “Shall I hide this from my friend? Friends don’t keep secrets from one another. Abraham is trustworthy. I will confide in him.” 

What ensues is a conversation for the history books. God and Abraham go back and forth in a dialogue about the city’s judgement. The discussion reveals the quality of their friendship. These are a few friends talking to each other: the Judge of all the earth alongside a bag of dust and ashes; they are walking and talking about current events as life-and-death realities hang in the balance.

This by itself is a marvel to behold: Abraham’s friendship with God is so unique. But there is more. 

In Genesis 22 we have another demonstration of friendship between them, wherein God actually says please to Abraham! Why would the Lord say please to a man? Well, perhaps because they’re friends, and friends say please to one another. 

After all, God realizes that He is asking a lot of a friend when He says to Abraham: “Please take your son, your only son whom you love––Isaac––and go to the land of Moriah. Offer him there on one of the mountains that I will point out to you” (Genesis 22:2 ISV). Now note that most English translations forgo the please. This is in part because the Hebrew word na can be translated in different ways. But it is also because, at some level, it is uncomfortable to hear God say please to a man. The International Standard Version and Young’s Literal Translation translate the verse to say please, but the other translations translate the verse to say now. Their translations will read, “Take now your son, your only son...” But understand that, in Hebrew, it’s the same word. The word is na.

Na can and does mean please elsewhere in Genesis. Na is the word in Genesis 18:4 translated please when Abraham says, “Please let a little water be brought and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree” (NASV). Na is the word in Genesis 12:13 again translated please when Abraham says, “Please say that you are my sister so that it may go well with me because of you...” (NASV).

Na is the word used in Genesis 22:2 when God says to his friend Abraham, “Take please your son, your only son . . . and offer him there on one of the mountains that I will show to you.” In your translation it may say now there, but understand the word can be read as please just the same. And given the circumstances, I think it’s more fitting to read it as such. 

We know how the story goes: Abraham leads his son up the mountain to offer him there. But then, God stops Abraham from doing it. Many years later Jesus provides this insight: “Your father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad” (John 8:56). I believe that, there on Mount Moriah after the ram became a substitute for Isaac, Abraham saw what God’s Son would one day have to go through. And just like God revealed to Abraham what would happen to Sodom before it actually happened, so too God revealed to Abraham what would happen to His Son before it actually happened. 

I mean, the two of them were friends, right? And friends don’t keep secrets from one another.

Why Does Noah Curse Canaan?

Why does Noah curse his grandson Canaan? 

Canaan did not violate Noah in any way. It was Ham––Canaan’s father––who violated Noah. Therefore, if you were Noah, wouldn’t it make more sense to curse Ham directly? How can we explain this?

To start let’s understand what happened. The story in Genesis 9 is quite embarrassing to Noah. Imagine your family’s dirtiest laundry being aired out for all of history to see. Yikes. 

I will paraphrase what happened: The flood is over. Noah plants a vineyard and drinks its wine; he gets drunk and lays uncovered inside his tent. His youngest son (Ham) sees his father naked; Ham tells his two brothers outside . . . When Noah awakes from his drunken stupor, he discovers what Ham has done to him. And Noah says Cursed be Canaan!

What did Ham do to his father?

One writer has this to say: In Leviticus 18 & 20, this uncover nakedness language is used to denote sexual relations. Since Ham saw his father’s nakedness, this could mean he sodomized his father and then bragged about it. Or, since uncovering a man’s nakedness can refer to having sex with a man’s wife, then perhaps this means that Ham slept with his own mother while his father was passed out. 

Okay, well, hmmm. If you ask me, I believe a better interpretation is available. At least, one that makes more sense to me. I heard it first from Rabbi David Fohrman. I will put it in my own words.

We have to get in Ham’s head. What is he thinking? 

Context is helpful. Let’s understand their age difference. When this event happens in Genesis 9, Noah is over 600 years old. We know that Ham is at least 500 years younger than Noah. (Gen. 5:32, 7:6, 11:10 establish this.)

Next, let’s understand how much time has passed since the flood. When this event happens, enough time has passed that a vineyard planted by Noah has reached its maturity, enough to produce wine. Furthermore, Ham has by now had his fourth son, a child named Canaan. (Reference Genesis 10:6.) Suffice it to say, we are years away from the flood. 

Now, Ham naturally expects to live as long as his father. So then, Ham thinks he has at least another 500 years ahead of him. That is a long time to accrue power, notoriety, wealth and respect. And already he sees himself as a powerful figurehead, a forefather above all subsequent generations by default. His two brothers, Shem and Japheth, are his equals so to speak, all three being Noah’s direct descendants. At this level Ham is one in three, and by golly a third of the earth sounds good to him. 

But wait. Coming off the ark, God told Noah to be fruitful and multiply! And Ham knows his father will be faithful to God––just look at his track record. There is no doubt that Noah will multiply. Having received such a clear directive, Noah will have more sons! But then, where will that leave Ham? 

With less and less share! 

Eventually Ham may not be one in three. He may become one of ten, 15, perhaps 20! That sounds like war to a man who values power. Just the thought of it makes him feel cheated. After all, Ham endured the flood with his father; he helped his father build the ark and feed the animals; he gave up everything and trusted his father when no one else did. If Noah now adds new sons to the family, these young ones will never understand what he and his brothers had to go through. And yet, the new sons will become equal to them, despite their sacrifice. 

No. Ham cannot have it. Ham makes a decision: he will act swiftly. He will strike at an opportune time. He will prevent his dad from having any more children. 

The passage in Genesis is interesting, isn’t it? It says Ham saw his father naked and told his two brothers outside . . . When Noah awoke from his wine and found out what his youngest son had done to him...

What did Ham do to Noah?! 

This is what I think happened: Ham damaged his father’s male organ, an act so severe that it prevented Noah from having any more sons. 

This interpretation resolves a few questions. Like, for one, why does Noah stop at three sons when God clearly tells him to be fruitful and multiply? 

Secondly, we learn that Ham tells his brothers afterward. Ham doesn’t tell them beforehand because it is a shameful thing to do, yet he is not so ashamed to keep it a secret afterward because his brothers are also benefactors! His deed has cemented their place at the top of all subsequent generations. Notice, Ham doesn’t run away from his crime like Cain did; Ham openly tells his brothers what happened. 

But neither brother reacts as Ham had expected. Shem and Japheth are mortified. They cover their father’s nakedness. They wonder what Noah will do when he awakens. 

When Noah awakens, he curses not Ham but Ham’s son, Canaan. Follow me here:

Canaan is Ham’s fourth son (Genesis 10:6). Since Ham prevents Noah from having a fourth son, Noah prevents Ham’s fourth son from flourishing. The curse is one of humiliation. Every time Ham thinks of his fourth son, he remembers the fourth son that Noah was denied from having. Because Ham stunts the lineage of Noah at the fourth son, so Noah curses and subjugates the linage of Ham at the fourth son. 

Now step back for a second and ask: why doesn’t Genesis provide these details in plain sight, leaving nothing to question?

Perhaps it’s because God is handling the matter with sensitivity. God is avoiding details on purpose, in a manner that’s respectful to his boy Noah. God Himself is covering the wound that Noah bears; He does so right alongside Shem and Japheth. And because the ugly details have been covered with such discretion, what exactly happened to Noah in his tent that day will remain a mystery. 

The Old Man Noah

The flood is, at its core, a story of identity crisis. 

Typically when people get to know you, they get to know you by your interests, your friends, the places you go and the things you do. But imagine Noah aboard the ark. Those identity markers cease to exist. His entire world has been swept away. He has to make sense of himself without so much as a hobby or a hometown.

To relate this to modern times, it would be like suddenly finding yourself in a world without sports, restaurants, pop culture. Apple computers? No such thing. Nike shoes? No such thing. Hollywood? Starbucks? The Superbowl? None of your grandkids have heard of these. 

Without a culture to contextualize your life, who are you? 

Noah is battling seasickness and asking himself this very question. He is forced to make sense of himself in a brand new way. The world that created him has been stripped away. What remains––his character, his family, his faithfulness––constitutes the only identity he has left.

Identity remains an issue even after the flood. Coming off the ark and starting again, Noah is an old man in a new world. The next-to-oldest male is 500 years younger than he is. And outside his immediate family, every other person in the world is at least 600 years younger! 

Without as single male contemporary, Noah certainly feels lonely! He misses the company of an older person. No matter how much he appreciates God’s deliverance, no matter how much he loves watching his kids have kids of their own, in certain respects his heart remains on the other side of the flood. Noah spent the majority of his life there, after all.

I have to relate this to Job. Job also lost his whole world in a storm. (Job 38:1 literally refers to Job’s experience as a storm.) Job had an identity crisis of his own. (Job lost his kids, whereas Noah did not. But Noah lost his friends, whereas Job did not. They both weathered the storm with their wives.) What we see in the story of Job is that, even after all things are restored to Job (Job 42:10), God never takes away the pain of his loss. Job still has to grieve his previous life. We read that “the Lord blesses the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part” (Job 42:12) and that Job goes on to have “seven sons and three daughters” (Job 42:13). Nevertheless, Job never forgets the children he had at first, those who died when a storm killed them (Job 1:18-19). Job remembers them and longs for their presence even after God blesses him in the latter part of his life. And so, too, Noah’s heart breaks when remembers his former life. I can’t help but think a large portion of him died right along with the others.

The Torah does an interesting thing with Noah. It groups him with his fathers, as if to suggest Noah belongs to the old world more than the new one. To see this, we have to set two lineages side by side. First look at Shem’s lineage in Genesis 10. These are those living after the flood. This is how it reads: 

Now do a language comparison. Read the lineage of those living before the flood (Genesis 5). You’ll notice the rhythm is different:

Now look at Noah. Specifically, look at the two verses that bookend his life (Genesis 5:32 & 9:28-29). Bringing those verses together, we read:

After Noah was 500 years old, he became the father of Shem, Ham and Japheth . . . After the flood Noah lived 350 years. Noah lived a total of 950 years, and then he died. 

Pulling out the middle, we find that Noah’s life is encapsulated by language resembling those who came before the flood. 

Why? 

Because Noah is of the old world. Unlike his sons, he belongs to the past. All the future will come through him, yes, but most of his life experience remains on the other side of the flood. Unlike his sons, he will, in large part, remain a foreigner in this new world. 

From an early age, his sons grew up expecting a new beginning. Their short time in the old world was spent preparing for the new one. Their minds were always looking forward. But Noah? He spent 600 years in the old world! And for much of his life, he knew nothing of a flood! For at least five centuries, the old world was the only world as far as Noah was concerned. So naturally, Noah is attached to the older generations more than the newer. The old man Noah belongs with his fathers on the other side of the flood, and so the Torah, poetically, uses language that attaches him to the lineage of Adam and Seth. But his kids, living most their life after the flood, go on to populate a new world, knowing a rhythm different than that of Noah and his fathers.

Why a Flood?

In Genesis 7 we read about humanity’s big reboot––the flood. But a question arises: of all the ways God could restart the world, why would God choose to use water?

The secret is revealed in Numbers 31. Not only does it explain the water of the flood, but it also explains why earth’s final cleansing will come by fire.

In Numbers 31:21-23, we read: Then Eleazar the priest said to the men in the army who had gone to battle: “This is the statute of the law that the LORD has commanded Moses: only the gold, the silver, the bronze, the iron, the tin, and the lead, everything that can stand the fire, you shall pass through the fire, and it shall be clean. Nevertheless, it shall also be purified with the water for impurity. And anything that cannot withstand the fire, you shall pass through the water.

The context of this passage is important. The Israelites have returned from battle, victorious. In their victory, they have come to possess vessels of precious metal, gold, silver, etc. But, as they start to bring these vessels back into the camp, the priest Eleazar basically stands his hand. “Stop! God told Moses these items must be purified before they enter the camp! If the item can withstand fire, purify the item with fire. If the item cannot withstand fire, then purify the item with water. Understand?”

Cool, right? But irrelevant to you and I today. 

Then wait: when you start thinking about the fire, the water, the purification... you begin to realize that what applies to a vessel taken from the battlefield must also apply to the planet. After all, the planet is a vessel taken from the battlefield.  

Let’s consider these verses:

• Matthew 3:11 (NIV)––“I baptize [your body] with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

• Hebrews 10:22 (NIV)––Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.

• 1 Corinthians 3:12-15 (NIV)––[Your foundation] will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.

• 2 Peter 3:7 (NIV)––But by the same word the heavens and earth that now exist are stored up for fire, being kept until the day of judgment and destruction of the ungodly.

• 1 Peter 1:7 (NIV)––These trials have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

So then, if the vessel is something that can endure fire (i.e., it’s something spiritual), then it is to be cleansed with fire. If it is something that cannot endure fire (i.e., it’s something physical), then it is to be cleansed with water. 

We apply this principle to God’s first and second judgment, a judgement that comes by water first and fire second. The flood was meant to cleanse the world of sinful people. The final judgment is meant to cleanse God’s people of a sinful world.

So why a flood? 

Because the first was a physical purification, therefore the cleansing comes by water. 
The second will be a spiritual purification, so the cleansing will come by fire.

It is Numbers 31. God does not tell His people to do differently than He would do. 

Sarah Lived 127 Years

Genesis 23 probably starts this way in your English translation: “Sarah lived 127 years; these were the years of the life of Sarah.” But note, this is not how every Torah scroll in the world reads. What the translators have changed is how the Hebrew conveys Sarah’s age. The Hebrew in verse 1 more accurately reads, “And the life of Sarah was a hundred and seven and twenty years; these were the years of the life of Sarah.”

It’s as though the life of Sarah is being divided up into distinct periods of time. The rabbis offer a beautiful reason for this. They say it is because Sarah had the wisdom of a 100 year old woman, the heart of a seven year old girl, and the beauty of a 20 year old young lady. At least, in Abraham’s eyes. Having withdrawn from the public Abraham mourns her passing, and I can imagine sitting next to him and asking something like, “How old was Sarah? Wasn’t she 127?” And thinking of her, he’d say after a moment, “She was a hundred. She was seven. She was twenty.” 

The poets could stop here and walk away, content. 

However, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how others (not the poets but the math nerds) have extracted from Sarah’s lifespan an intriguing mathematical connection.

As they point out, Sarah is the great matriarch of the Jewish nation. She ties together the three patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Now watch how her lifespan of 127 years shows up when you play with the lives of the patriarchs. 

Abraham lived to 175.     (175 = 5² x 7)
Isaac lived to 180.            (180 = 6² x 5)
Jacob lived to 147.           (147 = 7² x 3)

We have a perfect square in sequential order multiplied by odd numbers in a descending pattern. In each case, the sum of the factors is 17, as shown here:

Abraham:    175 = 5 x 5 x 7.    (5 + 5 + 7 = 17)
Isaac:           180 = 6 x 6 x 5.    (6 + 6 + 5 = 17)
Jacob:          147 = 7 x 7 x 3.    (7 + 7 + 3 = 17)

Sarah lived to 127 years. 127 is the sum of these square numbers plus 17.

In other words, 5² + 6² + 7² + 17 = 127!

Math nerds everywhere are freaking out at this point, especially if they just finished their coffee. Meanwhile the poets are offended and wish they had quit earlier. 

Benjamin: A Picture of Jewish Believers

In the book of Genesis, more is written about Joseph than any other character. The book builds up to his life; it ends with his story. Joseph, we know, is a picture of Jesus. But let’s not stop there. Let’s build onto that connection. Let’s take the next step. 

We have already discussed how Ephraim and Manasseh represent Gentile believers (click here to see that connection made). Today I want to talk about Benjamin. A smile comes over my face every time I think about him. Because what we find is that Benjamin is a picture of the Jewish Messianic believer. For throughout the last 2000 years, there has been a steady line of Jews who have accepted Jesus as their Messiah. In the beginning there were many, then it narrowed in number, and today again there are more and more coming to faith and accepting Jesus as their Messiah. Writing today, I hope to show how these Jewish believers are represented by Joseph’s beloved brother Benjamin. 

1. For starters, the Apostle Paul epitomizes a Messianic Jew. Of course, Paul is of the tribe of Benjamin! As he writes in Philippians: “If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews . . . But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.”

2. We’ll note that Benjamin was the only son born to Israel. All the other sons were born to Jacob. It was during Jacob’s wrestling match with God that Jacob’s name was changed to Israel, and it was after that name-change when Benjamin was born. Benjamin himself had a name change, the only son of the 12 to have one. At his birth, his mother Rachel named him Benoni, meaning son of my sorrows. Interestingly, Jews who have placed their faith in Jesus have been a source of sorrow to the Jews who have not. Indeed, when a Jewish person gives his life to Jesus, it is not uncommon that his Jewish parents sit shiva and mourn him as though he had died. He becomes a Benoni, son of my sorrows. But you see, the Father disagrees. God, like Israel, changes it from Benoni to Benjamin, son of the right hand. So what appears as a source of sorrow to the Jewish people God says No, this one is a son of the right hand. The right side represents strength and spirit. In strength the Jewish believer stands with what he knows to be true, having the spiritual eyesight to recognize Jesus for who He is––just as Jacob recognized God in the wrestling match, and so became Israel. 

3. Benjamin’s birth is connected directly to Joseph. This is easy to miss, but remember what Rachel said when she gave birth to Joseph. Why did she name him Joseph? Joseph (יוסף) means to add or do again. Her words are found in Genesis 30:24: “And Rachel called his name Joseph, saying, ‘May the LORD add to me another son!’” God later added to her another son––Benjamin! So Joseph’s very name is attached to Benjamin. Joseph’s name is a prayer that God would add another son. And God answered that prayer. The connection here is that the re-birth of a Jewish believer is connected back to Jesus, just as Benjamin’s birth is connected back to Joseph.

4. Benjamin is born just on the edge of Bethlehem, the town Jesus would be born in. The other 11 sons were born north of this area, while Jacob was serving Laban and so on and so forth. Rachel was pregnant with Benjamin as the family journeyed southward, giving birth to him on the road between Bethel and Ephrath. Genesis 48:7 tells us that Ephrath is Bethlehem. It is interesting to note that Benjamin was born on the road, not at home. This makes me think of the diaspora, Jews living outside Israel, away from home so to speak, coming to faith in Messiah around the world. They are born again “on the road.” 

5. Benjamin did not participate in the sell of Joseph. Jacob sent Joseph to go out and check on his brothers, but Benjamin stayed at home. Benjamin had no part in the betrayal of Joseph. In a similar sense, Jewish believers are those who do not disown Jesus as their brothers do. 

6. Benjamin is not imprisoned with his brothers. When Benjamin’s brothers went to Egypt, they were imprisoned for about three days (imprisoned for two days, then set free on the third day). Benjamin was never in prison whereas all the rest were. Another way to say this is, Benjamin enjoyed a freedom that the other brothers did not––freedom from guilt, freedom from prison. He had a level of freedom that the other brothers didn’t experience. But those brothers (the Jews, the sons of Jacob) will know such freedom after 2000 years, themselves being set free in the third millennium.  

7. Joseph’s cup is hidden in Benjamin’s sack, the cup being a picture of Messiah’s cup. It’s a symbol. It’s a picture. And what was the cup made of? Silver. Silver is always a picture of redemption. Wherever we see silver, we see redemption. And unbeknownst to his brothers, Benjamin had such a treasure hidden in his sack, placed there by Joseph. What the Orthodox Jewish community doesn’t realize is that their Messianic counterparts have a treasure hidden in their sack, put there by Jesus.

8. Benjamin receives a greater portion than the other brothers. When they sit down to feast, Joseph gives all of his Jewish brothers a large portion, but to Benjamin he gives five times as much! (See Genesis 43:34.) In Hebraic thought, 5 is the number that represents grace. Because of Joseph’s actions, Benjamin experiences a blessing of grace that is more rich than what the brothers experience. 

9. Benjamin’s life is closely bound to his father Israel. This is what Judah says as he pleads with Joseph in Genesis 44. He says in verse 30, “...my father’s life is closely bound up with the boy’s life...” In other words, the life of Benjamin––representing a Jewish believer in Messiah––is still bound to Israel, still bound to the fathers, still bound to the covenants and the promises. He never ceases being Jewish. 

10. Benjamin is the youngest brother. In parallel, Messianic Judaism is just 2000 years old, whereas Judaism as a whole has been around since Abraham 4000 years ago. Messianic Judaism is like the youngest brother in Judaism, and like Benjamin, it is the smallest among them. Psalm 68:27 begins, “Look, the little tribe of Benjamin leads the way...” Although the tribe of Benjamin is the smallest of the tribes (1 Samuel 9:21), Benjamin leads the way! Think about it: Benjamin was already with Joseph when Jacob and the family arrived! When all the other brothers departed from Joseph and journeyed back to Jacob, Benjamin alone remained with Joseph. So get the picture: here’s Jacob––here’s Israel––at a later time, arriving and coming to Joseph. But Benjamin’s already there! So too, in the future, Israel will return to Jesus, but look! Benjamin is already there with Him. 

11. Benjamin is absent for most of the Genesis narrative. Why is this? It is because this narrative at the end of Genesis is about Joseph drawing in the other ten brothers. Bringing them back. Testing them. Seeing if their hearts have changed. Personally I think one of the things that God is going to require of the Jewish people in the days to come is that they will be given an opportunity to embrace their Messianic brethren, and this will be the way that God tests them. As it happens right now, when a Jew becomes a believer in Jesus, he’s cast aside. You see, you can be an atheist yet still a Jew. You can be a Buddhist yet still a Jew. You can be anything you want to be and still be a Jew, but the moment you become a believer in Jesus Christ, they say you’re not Jewish anymore. Why is that? What’s that all about? I think there’s a day coming when the Jewish people as a whole will have to reassess Messianic Jewish believers, asking should we continue to reject them? Or should we finally embrace them as our own? Because here’s the thing: Joseph will reveal himself to the brothers only after he sees their hearts have changed, and they don’t do to Benjamin as they once did to him.