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––a history so epic that its every story could fill up libraries––gives this particular story in Genesis 24 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 so 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 learn of 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 that he could have inherited Abraham’s estate. Well, rolling the clock forward, it is the same guy who scores the leading role in Genesis 24. Abraham commissions his lead servant to find a bride for his beloved son Isaac. But interestingly, Eliezer is named not even once in Genesis 24. 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 Eliezer is not named separate from Abraham. He is to be seen as an extension of Abraham in this chapter. And we will see why that is important. 

To summarize the longest chapter in Genesis, grant me two paragraphs. (And note: I am going to call Eliezer by name, but remember he is never called by name in the text.) To begin, Abraham tells his head servant (Eliezer) to go and find a bride for his son Isaac. Eliezer swears to do so and departs on a long journey. He eventually comes upon a well where he sits down and prays. An attractive woman named Rebekah approaches the well. Eliezer runs over to her and requests a small drink. She gives him a drink and then she says, “I will draw water for your camels also.” Eliezer watches in amazement as she draws water for his ten camels. When she finishes watering the camels, Eliezer gives her a golden nose ring weighing one half-shekel and two bracelets weighing ten shekels (that is, one shekel’s weight for each camel she watered). He says to her, “Please tell me whose daughter you are. Is there room in your father’s house for us to spend the night?” When she invites him to her house, Eliezer bows and worships God.

Arriving at Rebekah’s house, we meet her brother: Laban. Laban invites Eliezer inside and Eliezer tells the family who he is, what mission he is on, and what took place earlier at the well. Laban listens to the story and realizes that this pairing is a match made in Heaven. Laban says, “Take her and go, and let her be the wife of your master’s son, as the Lord has spoken.” Again Eliezer bows. He brings out garments and jewelry of gold and silver, and gives those to Rebekah. He then gives precious things to Rebekah’s brother and mother. They all eat and drink together, and Eliezer spends the night. In the morning, Rebekah and Eliezer set out together. A journey ensues, a journey in which Eliezer is returning to his home alongside Abraham and Isaac, while Rebekah is venturing toward her new home, a home she has never seen, as she follows Eliezer wherever he takes her. [Spoiler alert: you are on this journey! This is the journey you take as a Christian being led by the Holy Spirit! Even though you have not laid eyes on the Son yet, already you are His Bride.] Soon enough, Eliezer and Isaac’s bride-to-be reach their destination. Rebekah sees Isaac in the distance. She asks Eliezer, “Who is that man walking in the field to meet us?” Eliezer says, “That is my master [Isaac].” She dismounts the camel and veils herself. Eliezer greets Isaac first, telling him everything that he has done. Isaac then takes Rebekah into the tent of Sarah and there Rebekah becomes his wife. “He loved her,” we are told by the very last verse.

Zooming out, we look at the characters more broadly to hear a story more profound: Abraham is the Father. Isaac is the Son. The father’s servant, Eliezer, is the Holy Spirit. Rebekah is, well, you––the Son’s Bride.

Since Eliezer scores the starring role in this chapter, we will keep the focus on him. Here are 16 ways to answer this question: What does Eliezer teach us about the Holy Spirit?

1. The Holy Spirit goes into the world to seek and retrieve a Bride for the Son.
2. The Holy Spirit is sent by the Father on the Son’s behalf. 
3. Eliezer works to fulfill God’s covenant with Abraham. So, too, the Holy Spirit works to fulfill God’s covenant with Abraham. 
4. Eliezer is not mentioned by name in Genesis 24 because he is an extension of Abraham himself. Eliezer’s identity is connected to the master. The two characters are intertwined. So, too, the Holy Spirit’s character is intertwined with the Father.  
5. Three times in one chapter we see Eliezer bowing and worshipping the Lord. The Holy Spirit finds expression in humility, worship, and prayer. 
6. Eliezer is a war hero, one who goes into battle to rescue the lost. Although this detail comes from a separate story in Genesis 14, still it serves as a picture of the Holy Spirit.
7. In Genesis 24, Eliezer does not act according to human logic. If Eliezer had acted logically, he would have entered the city and asked for the whereabouts of Abraham’s extended family. Then he would have knocked on their door, introduced himself, and asked to meet their daughters. Of course, this is not what Eliezer does at all! Instead, he visits a well from which the entire community draws water. He then prays that the first girl to give him water would be the one for Isaac. Is this what you would have done? No! Because it’s a strange strategy, isn’t it? It doesn’t make a lot of sense on paper. And yet, it works. And it teaches us something about the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit isn’t too concerned with making sense on paper. The Holy Spirit defies formulas, defies description, defies the boundaries of common human logic. His ways are higher than our ways. 
8. In the story, Eliezer runs to Rebekah (24:17). With eagerness he initiates their interaction. Likewise, the Holy Spirit eagerly runs to you. But you must respond. 
9. If you are unwillingly to respond, God does not hold the Holy Spirit responsible. (See 24:8.)
10. Eliezer gives Rebekah a ring for her nose (not for her ear or her finger). The nose is where life is breathed in. God breathed into man’s nostrils the breath of life. All to say, the Holy Spirit adorns those areas where God has entered your being and given you life. 
11. Eliezer doesn’t pass out applications and select the most qualified applicant. He doesn’t look for the richest girl. He doesn’t stage a beauty contest. Instead he looks for a girl with kindness and compassion in her heart. Notice, his test involves two aspects: Part 1 is a spoken request: “I am thirsty.” Part 2 is an unspoken request, a need that is not verbalized: my camels are thirsty too! Rebekah not only meets the spoken need, she also satsifies the unspoken need. She sees beyond the obvious; she discerns something more. This is the kind of person that the Holy Spirit gets excited about. 
12. Eliezer may manage Abraham’s estate, but Isaac is the owner of Abraham’s 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 and the Spirit serves His purposes. 
13. In Genesis 24, Eliezer and Rebekah meet at a well and then go to her house. At her house, their special encounter at the well is relayed to her family. This is an important moment for Rebekah. As she listens to Eliezer retell the story, she comes to understand more about herself. Think about it: back when she was drawing water for the camels, she was 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 later on. Then something special 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. 
14. Eliezer gives gifts, garments, and precious things. Some translations say costly ornaments but mine says precious things. Note, though, “This term rendered precious things, as found in Songs 4:13, is used to express exquisite fruits or delicacies” (Source). Rashi concurs: he translates Genesis 24:53 to say delicious fruits. In other words, Eliezer gives gifts, garments, and delicious fruits (Source). I like this translation best because it yields an insight. Eliezer gives gifts to the bride, but to Rebekah’s family he gives delicious fruits. The fruits are not for Rebekah. The fruits are because of Rebekah, but they are intended for the others. In like manner, the fruit of the Spirit are for everyone around us, but they get to be shared because of us.
15. Eliezer doesn’t like delay. When Laban wants Rebekah to stay another ten days before leaving, Eliezer tells him, “Do not delay me” (24:56). Eliezer doesn’t want to wait around. He wants to act. The Holy Spirit is obsessed with the present tense. 
16. On her journey to meet Isaac, Rebekah is carried by the camel that she watered the night before. Her good deeds service the thing that bring her to the son, while Eliezer leads the way. 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.