Like Father, Like Son—but a God More Real
I do not know if Isaac ever said to himself, “I’m going to advance further in faith than my dad.” Isaac grew up in the faith, whereas Abraham did not. Isaac began to have covenant children in his forties, whereas his father would not see the promised son until reaching a hundred. Abraham would have to travel far to reach the land; Isaac was already there. One day, Isaac was ahead of the game, and in another day, he woke up with life having flashed before his eyes. That’s what this passage, Genesis 26:1-35, does. It helps the reader fast forward.
There is a pattern of sin that points to God by conviction.
There is a pattern of nature that points to God by example.
There is a pattern of grace that points to God by faith.
Doctrine. The maturing Christian always sees patterns that point to God.
In this text, by “pattern,” all I will mean is the way in which Isaac experiences three things that his father Abraham experienced. But this chapter condenses those experiences into one place almost as if Isaac learned it all faster. Each pattern, on the surface, will say, “Like father, like son,” yet the mature believer will start to follow each of these patterns to something great about God.
There is a pattern of sin that points to God by conviction.
Isaac inherited the same sin nature that his father Abraham had for the same reason that they both inherited from a more original father: “just as sin came into the world through one man [Adam], and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned” (Rom. 5:12). Note the beginning of the narrative.
“Now there was a famine in the land, besides the former famine that was in the days of Abraham. And Isaac went to Gerar to Abimelech king of the Philistines” (v. 1).
Not as far as Egypt perhaps,1 but he still experienced that same second fear as his father did: ‘When the men of the place asked him about his wife, he said, ‘She is my sister,’ for he feared’ (v. 7a). That sounds familiar too, doesn’t it?
So how can a pattern of sin point to God? Well, it has to do with what theologians call the “evangelical use of the law.” Of course, only the Holy Spirit can effectually lead anyone to God, but the initial way that we come to see our need for Christ is by the law exposing our sin—“Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin” (Rom. 7:7); “since through the law comes knowledge of sin” (Rom. 3:20). There was one basic difference between this pattern of sin in Abraham and Isaac, as opposed to us. Instead of the scroll of the law—or a sermon preaching it—Isaac would be confronted by the very same man who confronted his father, this prince of the region named Abimelech.2 Compare:
“‘What have you done to us? And how have I sinned against you, that you have brought on me and my kingdom a great sin? You have done to me things that ought not to be done.’ And Abimelech said to Abraham, “What did you see, that you did this thing?” (Gen. 20:9-10).
“‘How then could you say, ‘She is my sister’? … What is this you have done to us? One of the people might easily have lain with your wife, and you would have brought guilt upon us” (Gen. 26:9, 10).
God has this man personify His law. And it isn’t just that the law exposes this or that sin, but God’s law exposes patterns of sin.
Why is it important that we have patterns of sin exposed? In the same way that a disease is a greater problem than its symptoms, so indwelling sin is a greater problem than the surface of sin acting out. Why? I will limit myself to two main reasons:
First, by a knowledge that our sin problem is deeper than we thought, we will be more desperate for a good news of a redemption and transformation more powerful than we knew we needed.
Second, it shows us that the symptoms would be worse without the Spirit’s medicine. Some commentators note that, in the words ‘Do not go down to Egypt’ (v. 2), that “there was no doubt where Isaac was heading.”3 In other words, the warning is a gracious roadblock, presupposing the wrong trajectory. So, patterns of sin are exposed as a prevention.
There is a pattern of nature that points to God by example.
The occasion for Isaac departing from the Philistines was that God had blessed him with wealth (vv. 12-16). From this and its aftermath, we are taught five truths.
First, non-violent separation from those initiating violence is natural and good.
“So Isaac departed from there and encamped in the Valley of Gerar and settled there” (v. 17).
As we saw with Noah separating from his violent generation, as we saw with God’s design for distinct nations, as we saw with Abram separation from strife with Lot, and as we saw with Abraham and Abimelech—non-violent separation from those initiating violence is the godly example set forth in these early narratives of the Bible. It is a pattern from which the Scriptures never deviate.
Second, industrious cultivation of that which the violent have violently stopped is a natural renewal of part of creation that God called “good” (Gen. 1:31ff).
“And Isaac dug again the wells of water that had been dug in the days of Abraham his father, which the Philistines had stopped after the death of Abraham” (v. 18a).
It is no violence to dig into the earth and to give shape to things.
Third, we can and should honor those who have gone before us in spite of their more bungling sins in the land.
“And he gave them the names that his father had given them” (18b).
It is no violence to honor our fathers, and there is often pride when we withhold honor because of the allegedly newer virtues of the present mob.4
Fourth, we press through any criticism that accuses the Christian of the anti-social behavior. Almost to put the clear stamp that this is the lesson, Isaac finds himself in a series of such conflicts and always the same response:
“But when Isaac’s servants dug in the valley and found there a well of spring water, the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac’s herdsmen, saying, ‘The water is ours.’ So he called the name of the well Esek, because they contended with him. Then they dug another well, and they quarreled over that also, so he called its name Sitnah. And he moved from there and dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it. So he called its name Rehoboth, saying, ‘For now the LORD has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land’ (vv. 19-22).
The names of the wells were means of testifying that No, the force was initiated by them—Esek is wordplay, similar to the Hebrew for “contention” or “strife” (עֵשֶׂק); whereas Sitnah is wordplay, similar to the Hebrew for “accusation” or “hostility” (שִׂטְנָה). It is no violence to gain independence in resources from those who mean us harm: “But if you can gain your freedom, avail yourself of the opportunity” (1 Cor. 7:21).
Fifth, we formalize those lines that have been drawn, here again called a “covenant” (v. 28), just as it was between Abraham and Abimelech (21:27). Why? Because good fences make good neighbors. And this is no violence. Just the opposite. The state of affairs before the fences were observed was a state of war between those tribes and Isaac’s. But notice that we can only do that if we have minded our business with all our might. Abimelech was forced to this agreement:
“Isaac said to them, ‘Why have you come to me, seeing that you hate me and have sent me away from you?’ They said, ‘We see plainly that the LORD has been with you. So we said, let there be a sworn pact between us, between you and us” (vv. 27-28).
Abimelech and his fellow leaders recognized that they lacked the power and even all moral authority to continue to strive with Isaac. Yet Isaac and his clan would have failed to seize moral authority if they had remained to quarrel over smaller things, rather than simply become more powerful independently, by positive creational living. God will supply the ordinary growth through our natural agency. He may even bypass this agency, and exceed its natural output, by a supernatural blessing. But we cannot expect that blessing by lowering ourselves to the world’s violent norms.
There is a pattern of grace that points to God by faith.
The meaning here is that grace precedes faith, causes faith, but is also proven by faith, expanded through faith, issues forth into good works and holiness and perseverance by faith. As grace is the efficient cause, faith is the instrumental cause—most famously in Ephesians 2:8-9, BY grace THROUGH faith. And so it is here, just as it was with Abraham. Isaac is told,
“Sojourn in this land, and I will be with you and will bless you, for to you and to your offspring I will give all these lands, and I will establish the oath that I swore to Abraham your father. I will multiply your offspring as the stars of heaven and will give to your offspring all these lands. And in your offspring all the nations of the earth shall be blessed” (vv. 3-4).
And then the next words bring faith and obedience into the causal stream but only inside of grace. It says, ‘because Abraham obeyed my voice and kept my charge, my commandments, my statutes, and my laws’ (v. 5). As God wanted Abraham to know that this salvation was unconditional grace in eternity, but its particular walking out in time came with conditions, so God wanted Isaac to know the same.
If we go back to the beginning of the narrative, we can see the first difference between father and son. Note after the similar fear is described, it adds: ‘And the LORD appeared to him and said, ‘Do not go down to Egypt; dwell in the land of which I shall tell you’ (v. 2)—to which you could reply, “Sure, this was one step better. But this isn’t to Isaac’s credit; God gave him more specifics than to Abraham.” But to that I reply that this is always the case with greater and lesser amounts of faith. The very existence of faith and amount of faith one has is from God: “each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (Rom. 12:3). So the point is not to credit Isaac, but to learn what an advance in faith looks like.
Practical Use of the Doctrine
Use 1. Exhortation. By this example of Isaac digging his wells and tending to his growing flock, we can discern another pattern in Scripture. Many times that God’s people are hemmed in, their way of escape, so to speak, lies in their industry and prosperity that results. This was the case with Abraham, and now with Isaac. It will be the case with Jacob in Laban’s house, and with Joseph in an Egyptian prison. It will be the case with the generations of Israelites following him (the immediate cause of their slavery). It will be the case with the Hebrew slaves in Persia (most notably with Daniel), as well as with the Jews later on after the attempt to exterminate them by Haman. Therefore we are exhorted to,
“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might” (Ecc. 9:10).
If the enemy presses in, we pop up in another place. But we work. We produce. We bless.
Use 2. Admonition. Leave room for mystery in God’s sovereign dealing with His individual people. The passage ends in a place where we may be tempted to judge:
“When Esau was forty years old, he took Judith the daughter of Beeri the Hittite to be his wife, and Basemath the daughter of Elon the Hittite, and they made life bitter for Isaac and Rebekah” (vv. 34-35).
Our first clue of Isaac’s depth is how it says that this bitterness was ‘for Isaac and Rebekah,’ not just for Rebekah. Isaac was not so spiritually insensitive that he was not now aware of the spiritual fog that his oldest son was in. And if anyone says, “Well, then why was he not reconsidering the birthright and inheritance?” First, because that’s not how it was done.5 Second, because that was his son! He loved him and hoped for him!
Use 3. Consolation. If we take note of the map of this region and see that the Negeb is that southernmost part, Isaac was being driven, in each successive strife, back toward the heart of Canaan. Matthew Henry remarked of this,
“God tried Isaac by his providence. Isaac had been trained up in a believing dependence upon the divine grant of the land of Canaan to him and his heirs; yet now there is a famine in the land, v. 1. What shall he think of the promise when the promised land will not find him bread?”6
For many who grow up in a Christian home, the arrival of a famine-future, the allure of the big city of Egypt, and the strife with one’s fellow citizens who one was expecting to be so normal and cooperative—all this sours what they thought their faith had taught them. In truth, the Bible has taught all of this too.
Henry continues about what made the difference for Isaac: “the less valuable Canaan in itself seems to be the better he is taught to value it, 1. As a token of God’s everlasting kindness to him; and, 2. As a type of heaven’s everlasting blessedness.”7
Consider by what means God has been driving you home. Consider how many means He has at His disposal to drive your loved ones home.
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1. Kidner notes the virtue in this: “The Lord’s blessing (12) fulfilled the promise of 3a which Isaac had chosen against the attractions of Egypt (2)” (Genesis, 164).
2. Kidner explores the possibility that these—Abimelech and Phicoh—are not in fact the same individuals as in Chapter 20: “The reappearance of the names Abimelech and Phicoh after this long interval may mean that they were official names (cf. ‘Pharaoh’, etc.; see on 20:2) or recurring family names” (Genesis, 164-65).
3. Boice, Genesis, II:746.
4. Henry comments about the wonder that father and son could both sin such a “strange” sin given their status, and concludes, “That very good men have sometimes been guilty of very great faults and follies. Let those therefore that stand take heed lest they fall, and those that have fallen not despair of being helped up again” (Commentary on the Whole Bible, 59).
5. We might allow that such was done in extreme circumstances. Kinder seems to assume that such had come to this: “it underlies Isaac’s folly in still favoring Esau for the family headship (cf. 35 with 24:3)” (Genesis, 165).
6. Henry, Commentary on the Whole Bible, 59.
7. Henry, Commentary on the Whole Bible, 59.