A Life of Faith Lived in the Flesh
Introduction: Welcome Back
It is so good to worship tonight. And just before we get into the text, just a little bit of “offline” talk so you know what’s going on. It is nice to not record tonight! We typically record our home church gathering on Thursday nights, which means you try not to say “tonight” and you can’t refer to anything that happened today because it might be the weekend by the time people hear it. It’s just nice to say: “Hey, good evening. Welcome to Thursday night. So glad you’re here.”
Just to give you a little insider trading, it’s so good to see faces that we have not seen in a long, long time. It’s good to worship together. I thought the Psalm chase was great to start with because it’s good to be reminded that we’re in this together. Boy, it’s been a hard year. Praise God we’re here, and praise God we get to open our Bibles. We’ll be in Genesis 27 tonight, walking through the life of Isaac.
Please keep praying for us because we are trying to get our sea legs back. We went from grinding it out until about a year ago when everything shut down, then we went to one online gathering, and we have slowly been reopening. This Sunday, we will do seven gatherings. So, welcome back! Please be praying for us on that because it taxes our tech team. Props to Mondo and Cammie, and props to our worship team for making it work, because that’s a lot. We’re trying to figure out what it feels like, so we’ve adjusted a couple of things. We took the band out of tonight just to see how we’re going to make all this work. We’ll continue to walk this thing out together, but keep praying because reopening church means we’re back to the grind a little bit.
The Law of Proportion
If I’ve not met you yet, my name is Brad. I’m one of the elders and the lead pastor here, and I have the privilege tonight to walk through the life of a pretty interesting patriarch. One of the things to look for when you’re studying your Bible is what I call the “law of proportion.” The patriarchs cover from the end of chapter 11 all the way to chapter 50: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and a little bit of a nod to Judah. By and large, the lion’s share of the text goes to Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph.
Our boy Isaac, who we’re going to cover tonight, didn’t get much at all. He has a couple of chapters, which means he’s really not one of the primary figures. He’s a secondary patriarch, almost a little bit of an afterthought. But that’s not to say that it’s not worth mining his story for something the Lord might have for us. The good news is that all Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness—even a couple of chapters on an afterthought patriarch like Isaac.
One man put it this way: Isaac is, in some ways, an ordinary son of an extraordinary father, and an ordinary father of an extraordinary son. If you think of his family tree from Abraham to Isaac, and Isaac to Jacob, you see how that fits. We’re going to continue this story of the patriarchs, and the overall theme of these guys is that they are walking out this messy process of life with God. They’re incredibly relatable because, by and large, they make all kinds of decisions that they wish they would have had a do-over on. I don’t know if you can relate to that, but I’m thankful for those kinds of people because my faith is sometimes a bit messy, maybe like yours as well.
A Life of Faith Lived in the Flesh
Isaac had a good start. If you remember all the way back in chapter 21, the Lord took notice of Sarah, his mom. The Lord provided for her a child just like God had promised. Abraham called this son Isaac. So, he has this announced birth. He had a unique middle school experience in chapter 22, where he goes on a little camping trip with Dad. That camping trip included a knife for the offering and the fire for the sacrifice. Isaac asks a very astute question: “Dad, I see the fire and I see the knife, but where’s the lamb?” Abraham says the Lord will provide for Himself a lamb.
What we know about that encounter is that Isaac is probably an early teenage boy—think of him like an eighth-grade kid—who willfully allows his dad to bind his hands and offer him on this altar. Thankfully, the Lord delivered him, but he had a very interesting childhood. No doubt he saw and heard of God in a profound way. Then, at the end of chapter 24, he is presented with a wife, and it says he loved her. I love that. Here is a guy who recognizes that marital love is not always about what’s happening in the feelings; it’s about what you commit to, and he committed to love this woman.
He’s living out this life of faith, but here’s the thing about Isaac that’s a bit unique: it’s a life of faith lived in the flesh. He has a problem, and the problem in his life is him. His wife gives birth to twins in chapter 25, and these are two very special boys.
Genesis 25:23 (NASB)
The LORD said to her, ‘Two nations are in your womb; And two peoples will be separated from your body; And one people shall be stronger than the other; And the older shall serve the younger.’
You need to underline that phrase: “the older shall serve the younger.” That’s critical, not only in Isaac’s life but as we get down the road with the other patriarchs.
The High Stakes of Birthrights and Blessings
To fully understand the family dynamic we’re entering, there are two cultural concepts we have to get our minds around. One is the concept of the “blessing” from the father, and the other is the “birthright.”
A birthright was something that typically went to the firstborn. It basically meant he got hooked up with twice as much as all of his siblings. The firstborn son typically got a double portion, primarily of property. Now, the reason that’s significant is that technically Jacob is the youngest and Esau is the oldest. But Esau sells his birthright for a cup of stew.
Genesis 25:34 (NASB)
Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew; and he ate and drank, and rose and went on his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.
Esau was a fleshly guy. He wanted it right here, right now, with no thought of the promise of God. He despised the birthright. Jacob, on the other hand, is the kind of guy who always wins. Whether it’s right or not, whether it’s godly or not, no matter what it takes, Jacob’s going to win. So Jacob ends up with the birthright.
The other thing he’s going to end up with now is the blessing. The blessing of the father was the divine aspect of what a father would give his sons. Think of it like a ceremony where a father would invite God to move powerfully in the life of the one he chose. You didn’t just bless all your kids; you picked the one who would carry the family heritage. Usually, the oldest got both the birthright and the blessing. It was a divine invocation for provision, prosperity, and dominion.
A Reality TV Show Gone Bad
When we get into this story, you’re going to see Jacob fighting to get his. To be honest with you, the story is a train wreck. If you’re new to the Bible, just know that not everything in the Bible is awesome. There are a lot of stories where you’re like, “Dude, that guy’s jacked up.” I would hear a story like this on some old-school Geraldo show or a reality TV show gone bad. You’re absolutely right. Welcome to your Bible.
In chapter 27, Isaac is now 100 years old. His eyesight is failing, and he’s assuming he’s towards the end of his life. He wants to clarify which son receives the blessing before he dies. Isaac is trying to manipulate what he wants, contrary to what God had said.
Genesis 27:1-4 (NASB)
Now it came about, when Isaac was old and his eyes were too dim to see, that he called his older son Esau and said to him, ‘My son.’ And he said to him, ‘Here I am.’ Isaac said, ’Behold now, I am old [and] I do not know the day of my death. ‘Now then, please take your gear, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field and hunt game for me; and prepare a savory dish for me such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat, so that my soul may bless you before I die.’
This is Isaac the patriarch saying, “I know what God said—that the older would serve the younger—but I don’t like the younger. The younger’s a mama’s boy. He’s got soft hands and stays in the tents. No, Esau, you’re my guy. You’re my favorite. Go kill something, cook it, bring it home, and I’m going to bless you regardless of what God said.”
Remember: life of faith lived in the flesh. But Rebekah was listening.
Genesis 27:5-10 (NASB)
Rebekah was listening while Isaac spoke to his son Esau. So when Esau went to the field to hunt for game to bring [home], Rebekah said to her son Jacob, ’Behold, I heard your father speak to your brother Esau, saying, ‘Bring me [some] game and prepare a savory dish for me, that I may eat, and bless you in the presence of the LORD before my death.’ ’Now therefore, my son, listen to me as I command you. ’Go now to the flock and bring me two choice young goats from there, that I may prepare them [as] a savory dish for your father, such as he loves. ‘Then you shall bring [it] to your father, that he may eat, so that he may bless you before his death.’
Now, Rebekah is actually going to accomplish the will of God, but her method is wrong all day long. It’s an interesting side note that the role of spiritual leadership belonged to the man. You can make a strong argument that every time a family gets sideways, the responsibility falls primarily to the man. Had Isaac done what God said, he would have blessed Jacob like he was supposed to, and maybe this soap opera is avoided. But because he goes rogue, she steps in and does something she should have never done. She has agency over her choice, but she’s trying to force what God wanted.
Jacob is initially reluctant. He says, “Look, my brother is a hairy man and I am not. If my father feels me, he’ll see I’m a deceiver and I’ll bring a curse on myself.” But his mother says, “No, your curse be on me. Just obey me.”
Genesis 27:14-17 (NASB)
So he went and got [them], and brought [them] to his mother; and his mother made savory food such as his father loved. Then Rebekah took the best garments of Esau her elder son, which were with her in the house, and put them on Jacob her younger son. And she put the skins of the young goats on his hands and on the smooth part of his neck. She also gave the savory food and the bread, which she had made, to her son Jacob.
She puts goat skins on his hands and the smooth part of his neck because Esau was a hairy dude. This is all kinds of wrong! I mean, do you see this? He’s wearing a goat costume.
The Point of No Return
Jacob follows through with the plan. He comes to his father and says, “My father.” Isaac says, “Here I am. Who are you, my son?”
Why would a father ask that? Because he’s expecting Esau, but he hears Jacob’s voice. Parents, can you tell the difference in the voices of your kids? Yes. Isaac is suspicious. In fact, look at how many times Isaac is suspicious in this text. It makes me wonder—I don’t think this is the first time Jacob has been “Jacob.” Jacob’s name means “deceiver” or “heel-catcher.” This guy is as shady as the day is long. Do you have one of those kids? The one you just know did something, you just haven’t found out what it was yet? I think that’s what’s going on here.
Genesis 27:19 (NASB)
Jacob said to his father, ‘I am Esau your firstborn; I have done as you told me. Get up, please, sit and eat of my game, that you may bless me.’
I get the feeling Jacob is saying, “Hurry! Eat, bless me, and get me out of here!” Because if Esau comes back and sees me, I’m a dead man. Literally. Isaac asks how he found the game so quickly. Jacob responds, “Because the Lord your God caused it to happen to me.”
Notice whose God he refers to. It’s not “the Lord my God,” it’s “the Lord your God.” Jacob has an interesting relationship with God. His true journey doesn’t really begin until after the ashes of this event. Isaac still isn’t sure. He feels the goat hair and says, “The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.”
How hairy do you have to be that goat skin on your body makes your dad say, “Okay, that seems right”? That is just crazy. Isaac asks one more time, “Are you really my son Esau?” And Jacob says, “I am.”
That’s the point of no return. You’re committed to the lie. You’ve got to stick with it now. Isaac eats, drinks some wine, and then asks for a kiss. He smells Jacob’s clothes—the clothes Rebekah took from Esau’s closet—and finally, he is convinced.
Genesis 27:28-29 (NASB)
Now may God give you of the dew of heaven, And of the fatness of the earth, And an abundance of grain and new wine; May peoples serve you, And nations bow down to you; Be master of your brothers, And may your mother’s sons bow down to you. Cursed be those who curse you, And blessed be those who bless you.’
This blessing is a mash-up. It includes the promise given at their birth and the promise given to Abraham in Genesis 12: “Cursed be those who curse you, and blessed be those who bless you.” Isaac gives the whole nine yards—abundant crops, rain, rule, and reign—to the wrong son.
The Breaking and the Bitter Cry
As soon as Jacob leaves, Esau walks in. You wonder if Jacob was looking at his watch the whole time. Esau brings the food and says, “Let my father arise and eat.”
Isaac says, “Who are you?”
“I am your son, your firstborn, Esau.”
In that moment, they both realize they just got “Jacob-ed.” They were deceived by the deceiver. Isaac trembles violently. He realizes the blessing cannot be rescinded. Once it’s given, it’s given. This beautiful dream Isaac had of blessing his favorite son and riding off into the sunset shatters.
Genesis 27:34 (NASB)
When Esau heard the words of his father, he cried out with an exceedingly great and bitter cry, and said to his father, ‘Bless me, [even] me also, O my father!’
Esau cries out with an exceedingly great and bitter cry. He’s asking, “Do you have anything left for me? Has it all been given to that brother of mine who has been stealing from me my whole life? Is there anything else?”
Isaac tells him, “Your brother came deceitfully and has taken away your blessing.” Esau is in despair. He says, “He has supplanted me these two times. He took my birthright, and now my blessing.”
Genesis 27:38 (NASB)
Esau said to his father, ‘Do you have only one blessing, my father? Bless me, [even] me also, O my father.’ So Esau lifted his voice and wept.
Have you ever been with someone experiencing a total breaking? Where trauma is so overwhelming they just lose it? Esau is crushed. Isaac finally gives him a word, but it’s really an “anti-blessing.”
Genesis 27:39-40 (NASB)
Then Isaac his father answered and said to him, ’Behold, away from the fertility of the earth shall be your dwelling, And away from the dew of heaven from above. ‘By your sword you shall live, And your brother you shall serve; But it shall come about when you become restless, That you will break his yoke from your neck.’
I love how the Bible fulfills itself. Centuries later, in 2 Kings, Esau’s descendants (the Edomites) do exactly what was prophesied—they rebel against Jacob’s descendants.
2 Kings 8:20-22 (NASB)
In his days Edom revolted from under the hand of Judah, and made a king over themselves. Then Joram crossed over to Zair, and all his chariots with him. And he arose by night and struck the Edomites who had surrounded him and the captains of the chariots; but [his] army fled to their tents. So Edom revolted against Judah to this day. Then Libnah revolted at the same time.
Living with the Consequences
As you can imagine, Esau bore a grudge. He tells himself, “As soon as the days of mourning for my father are over, I will kill my brother.” This isn’t just sibling rivalry; this is calculated murder. Rebekah hears about it and tells Jacob he has to flee to her brother Laban in Haran.
She’s optimistic. She says, “Stay with him a few days until your brother’s fury subsides. He will forget what you did to him.”
I’m sorry, do you ever forget that kind of betrayal? You remember everything. Esau certainly does. Rebekah thinks it’ll be a short trip. Ironically, Jacob will be gone for twenty years, and he will never see his mother again. There are consequences for our decisions—especially sinful ones.
Her final deception is telling Isaac she’s just worried about Jacob marrying ungodly local women. She manipulates Isaac into sending Jacob away. It is a total hot mess.
Think about this family:
- Isaac is driven by the flesh, disobeys God, and is deceived by his own family.
- Rebekah deceives her husband and betrays her oldest son.
- Jacob wears a goat costume, lies to his father, and betrays his brother.
- Esau, robbed of everything, seeks revenge and murder.
Can you imagine the family dinner table? Just quiet, awkward slurping of soup. Deep wounds of betrayal. These folks are in deep trouble.
Jacob flees for his life. And you know, have you ever prayed for patience? God usually gives you things to be patient about. Jacob just got away with a massive deception, so God sends him to the only guy in the Bible more conniving than he is: Laban. For twenty years, Jacob gets a taste of his own medicine.
Rebekah lives the rest of her life in the shame of her deception. She fades to black. There is no mention of reconciliation with Isaac. There is no mention of her death. Abraham bought a cave and honored Sarah in her death; nothing is said of Rebekah. In chapter 35, her nurse gets a shout-out in the text, but she does not.
Esau becomes exactly what the anti-blessing said. He becomes a wild man driven by rage. He marries multiple ungodly wives just to spite his parents. The author of Hebrews uses him as the epitome of the ungodly.
Hebrews 12:16-17 (NASB)
that [there be] no immoral or godless person like Esau, who sold his own birthright for a [single] meal. For you know that even afterwards, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no place for repentance, though he sought for it with tears.
Then there’s Isaac. He lives with the betrayal of his wife and son for another eighty years. He thought he was on his deathbed, but he lived with that family dysfunction for nearly another century. He fades to black as well. We talk about the “God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” but Isaac is a secondary character. He had a strong beginning, but he didn’t finish well. He is in the “Hall of Faith” in Hebrews 11, but somewhere along the way, he drifted. Life became about his passions, his tastes, and his preferences above obedience to God.
Lessons from a Life in the Flesh
What do we learn from this train wreck?
First, it’s not how you start; it’s how you finish. This kid came out of the blocks strong, but then something happened. In faith, some start well and finish well—if that’s you, praise God! Let’s lay aside every encumbrance and run with endurance. Some start poorly and finish well because God redeems their story. I think of Noah the drunk, Moses the murderer, Rahab the harlot, and David the adulterer. Most heroes of the Bible didn’t start well, but God’s grace allowed them to finish. That’s the beauty of the Gospel.
Second, we are shaped by our family of origin, but we are not defined by it. Isaac was a chip off the old block; he picked up the negative traits of Abraham. If we aren’t cautious, the same can happen to us. We inherit good things—traditions and character traits—but we also inherit unhealth.
The challenge for us is to have the godly wisdom to recognize the difference. We need the Gospel to transform us so we can take the good from our parents and pass it on, but take the bad and say, “I’m not passing that on to my kids because the Gospel makes me new.”
2 Corinthians 5:17 (NASB)
Therefore if anyone is in Christ, [he is] a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.
If we can do that, then what we pass on to the next generation is not the baggage of the past. We don’t want them to say, “Oh, you’re just like your old man.” We want to pass on the goodness of Christ. “Such were some of us,” but we’ve been washed and made new.
As much of a train wreck as this story is, it’s a mirror. Before we throw a stone at Isaac, let’s remember that, if we’re not careful, we are just like him: a life of faith lived in the flesh.
Let’s pray.
Father, I thank You for Your Word and even these soap opera stories of catastrophe. You are a God who redeems and restores. Thank You for the lessons we learn from Isaac and his sons. Give us wisdom to recognize the unhealth passed to us or the unhealth that is ours alone. May we invite the Gospel to speak into those things. As we pass lessons to the next generation, may they be saturated with Gospel hope. Thank You, Lord. In Jesus’ name, Amen.