NOTES for Gen 27:1-41
Today we read the very familiar story of how Jacob used cunning to obtain from his father Isaac the blessing that, according to human law, “belonged” to the elder son, Esau. It continues the still more familiar account in Genesis of the sale of the birthright for lentil stew. Jacob deceives his father in order to receive his blessing and become heir to the covenant with God. Addressing Moses, the Lord calls Himself: “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” But according to law—at least according to human law—it should have sounded: “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Esau.” What, then, is happening? Does God really approve of deceiving one’s own elderly, half-blind father, as a result of which Jacob becomes heir to the covenant? Really?
Questions of this troubling kind arise for most people who read this story. Yet God cannot approve falsehood, and we must suppose that it is not Jacob’s deception that receives God’s blessing. The most reasonable explanation seems to lie in Jacob’s principal quality, the quality that distinguishes him from Esau: Jacob desperately needs this covenant. Esau, as far as one can judge from the Genesis account, is essentially indifferent to God and the covenant. The benefits due under the covenant may interest him; he approaches the covenant pragmatically. Jacob, however, is prepared even to resort to deception rather than be cut off from the covenant with God. Perhaps we are called to imitate not the way Jacob obtains the blessing, but how deeply he needs it.
After all, “by right” we should certainly be regarded as participants in the New Covenant: by right of baptism, or by some other right. Yet by including this passage among the readings of Great Lent, the Church may be offering us the simple thought that if we rely on what belongs to us by human right, we may lose everything. God does not welcome people like Esau! Jacob pleases Him—allowing, of course, for the fact that lying is repugnant to Him. The need for God is the main thing we might learn here.
One more peculiarity in the logic of the Genesis author draws our attention. Could not both brothers have inherited the blessing? Could Isaac not have blessed them both? In the end, could God not have blessed them both through Isaac? All these questions could probably be answered in the affirmative. But Isaac is not a machine. His ideas about the covenant and the inheritance of the blessing cannot be changed “with a wave of the hand.” He is not a passive link in the transmission of the blessing, and God condescends to take this into account. From another point of view, Isaac’s position may appear “too narrow.” But God adapts Himself to it as far as possible. This is a remarkable fact that we must remember if we are not to exaggerate the role of our own ideas.