Measured in loss

There are many books on how to be successful and how to gain in this world. Not many people in the world will get to read those books, and if they did, it wouldn’t relate to their situation.

As I have been reading this next passage and thinking about Jacob’s death, I have had a text conversation with two men, one from Indonesia and the other in Africa. The Indonesian Pastor buried his teenage son not so long ago and is now facing the difficult and expensive journey to take his wife for cancer treatment. The African man is mourning his wife’s death and is making steps forward in a completely new chapter of his life.

Faith is not only measured by what has been gained. It is also measured by whom we have lost along the way and by what we do in the aftermath of their deaths. Suffering accompanies and reveals faith.

“Joseph threw himself on his father and wept over him and kissed him. Then Joseph directed the physicians in his service to embalm his father Israel. So the physicians embalmed him, taking a full forty days, for that was the time required for embalming. And the Egyptians mourned for him seventy days. When the days of mourning had passed, Joseph said to Pharaoh’s court, “If I have found favor in your eyes, speak to Pharaoh for me. Tell him, ‘My father made me swear an oath and said, “I am about to die; bury me in the tomb I dug for myself in the land of Canaan.” Now let me go up and bury my father; then I will return.’” Pharaoh said, “Go up and bury your father, as he made you swear to do.” (Genesis 50 v 1-6)

There are times to weep, to mourn your loss and to do all that within the protocol of your culture, perhaps. For Joseph, this was seventy days of waiting for the period of mourning to be over.

These days do pass.

There are times to do what you promised. To keep your word and honour commitments made.  A life of faith is not only measured by great achievements and what has been gained. But it is also measured by what and who we have lost along the way.

The conversation with the man grieving his wife’s death has filtered through this passage I have been reading. In the eyes of many, the man has been very successful. He has had many victories and years of plenty. His faith is not only measured by these things. It is also measured and is so now in the faithfulness of his life in loss.

That faithfulness looks like this: weep when you need to weep. Wait through the days that must be waited through. Then get up and keep your word; do what you said you would do.

That is what love looks like when it outlasts loss. This is what tests faith when those we love are taken from us.

Buried in faith

Jacob is dying. He has finished blessing his sons, and he is now ready to give the final instructions. As a pastor, I saw this on numerous occasions. “Pastor, I’ve done my funeral” was usually the message that let me know everything was sorted upon their death. The family had been told where the grave was going to be or where the ashes were to be scattered. These final decisions have indicated what was important to them.

Jacob’s last instructions were about his grave. It had to be in a certain place. Where he wanted to be buried tells us everything about how he lived.

“Then he gave them these instructions: “I am about to be gathered to my people. Bury me with my fathers in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite, 30 the cave in the field of Machpelah, near Mamre in Canaan, which Abraham bought along with the field as a burial place from Ephron the Hittite. 31 There Abraham and his wife Sarah were buried, there Isaac and his wife Rebekah were buried, and there I buried Leah. 32 The field and the cave in it were bought from the Hittites.” 33 When Jacob had finished giving instructions to his sons, he drew his feet up into the bed, breathed his last and was gathered to his people.” (Genesis 49 v 29-33)

Where he was to be buried was a declaration of faith. Though he had spent 17 years in Egypt and his sons had built a life there for their families, he knew he had to return to Canaan. By insisting on burial alongside the covenant family, he identified himself with their story and with the future God had promised them.

The cave at Machpelah was the only piece of Canaan that Abraham ever legally owned. It may have been small compared to the land of Canaan, but it was tangible evidence that a covenant stake had been driven into the ground. To be buried there was to say, “I believe the promise. I am not an Egyptian. I am a son of the covenant.”

How he ended his life is a testimony to us even today, when the time comes for us to depart this earth. He refuses to let death anchor him to the wrong story. His story had so many ups and downs. But he ends his time on earth trusting that God would finish what God had started.

This is so encouraging for us all.

Yesterday I was talking to a friend about pensions and financial security in our later years. Maybe, reading this, you also think about such things. Our ultimate security is not found in earthly success or comfortable surroundings. It is found in belonging to God and trusting His promises. Like Jacob, we can face even death itself with confidence, knowing that God’s covenant faithfulness does not stop at the grave.

Jacob’s last words were about where he belonged. The truth is this: a life anchored in God’s promises can end in peace.

Everyone is unique with their own blessing

Moses closes the story of the blessings on Jacob’s sons with an interesting few words.

“All these are the twelve tribes of Israel, and this is what their father said to them when he blessed them, giving each the blessing appropriate to him.” (Genesis 49 v 28)

They didn’t have the same blessing, but they had the appropriate one for them.

The blessing was shaped for the person receiving it. Each one speaks to you and me, thousands of years later, living in the blessing of Christ.

Reuben — You are not cast aside and forgotten; under the blood of Jesus, you are at the table as a full son and daughter, not a diminished version of one.

Simeon and Levi — Your past does not have the last word; the cross does, for the blood shed in anger was answered by blood shed in love.

Judah — The sceptre belongs to the one who offers himself, and from this line came the King who earned the obedience of nations not by power but by sacrifice.

Zebulun — Purpose is not necessarily ahead of you but here, where you are right now, as you become the safe harbour others aim for in the storm.

Issachar — The Holy Spirit comes so you can carry something you could never carry in your own strength, so bend your shoulder.

Dan — Snakes don’t need to be seen to be effective, and God speaks justice over you before the world has seen a single thing.

Gad — The raiders don’t get the final word; you will attack at their heels, and you will live to fight another day.

Asher — What you carry is exactly what someone else needs at the table, and what you bring generously is fit for a king.

Naphtali — You were not meant to live constrained; when grace sets a life free, it releases the power of multiplication, so run.

Joseph — The wall, whatever it has been throughout your life, could never stop the vine, for the grace of God means fruitfulness beyond every barrier.

Benjamin — The same intensity that once tore things apart becomes, in surrendered hands, the energy that builds, advances, and refuses to quit.

God works the same way. He knows your name, everything about you, all that has happened in your life, the wounds and the graces. You are unique to Him. You are not just part of a crowd.  Which of these words speaks to you today? Jacob spoke the appropriate blessing. So does your Father. Receive it today.

Fierce by design

Of all Jacob’s sons, Benjamin receives the shortest blessing. One image: a wolf. Jacob is not running out of words. This is certainly not a gentle blessing, and perhaps we are surprised by that. It is, however, something that will continue through the centuries that followed, and perhaps even to you today.

“Benjamin is a ravenous wolf; in the morning he devours the prey, in the evening he divides the plunder.” (Genesis 49 v 27)

Comparing Joseph’s lengthy blessing, Benjamin gets a sentence. It doesn’t sound much of a blessing, but it is.

Benjamin was the youngest and the one Jacob protected the most after Joseph was gone. We might have expected some tender words, but rather, he is a wolf.

History shows that the tribe of Benjamin produced some of Israel’s most ferocious warriors. Ehud, the judge, who delivered Israel from oppression. King Saul was the first king chosen to lead God’s people into battle. Even the apostle Paul, born of the tribe of Benjamin, who once devoured the church as a persecutor, and who by the grace of God spent the rest of his life dividing the plunder of the gospel across the known world.

The wolf became a servant of the Lamb.

Pause.

God does not waste nature, even the fierce red-hot tempers. The same intensity that once tore things apart becomes, in surrendered hands, the energy that builds, advances, and refuses to quit.

Maybe you have always been told you are too driven, focused and restless. But what others call a problem, God calls a gift waiting to be redeemed.

The wolf was always part of the plan.

A Blessing greater than the mountains

We might have expected Jacob to save his longest blessing for Joseph. They are beautiful words of a dying man pouring what is in his soul to his son. His words reach beyond Joseph to us today. These words are for you and me.

“Joseph is a fruitful vine, a fruitful vine near a spring, whose branches climb over a wall. 23 With bitterness archers attacked him; they shot at him with hostility. 24 But his bow remained steady, his strong arms stayedlimber, because of the hand of the Mighty One of Jacob, because of the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel, 25 because of your father’s God, who helps you, because of the Almighty, who blesses you with blessings of the skies above, blessings of the deep springs below, blessings of the breast and womb.
26 Your father’s blessings are greater than the blessings of the ancient mountains, than the bounty of the age-old hills. Let all these rest on the head of Joseph, on the brow of the prince amonghis brothers.” (Genesis 49 v 22-26)

Perhaps we would have expected Jacob to say more about Joseph than any other son. These words are a blessing to us today.

  1. Your life was never meant to be contained. This is why God has always written a new chapter for you. Look back and see the author. Whatever the pit, the slavery and the prison chapters are for you, the grace of God means this image: a fruitful vine near a spring, whose branches climb over a wall. The wall (whatever it has been throughout your life) could never stop the vine. That’s not resilience but the grace of God, as you have surrendered to Him.
  2. God has been with you in every pit and palace of your life. With bitterness archers attacked him. The wounds were real, and yours have been too. But notice it doesn’t end in the wounding: his bow remained steady, his strong arms stayed limber — because of the hand of the Mighty One of Jacob. Somewhere deeper than willpower or just your character or even the gifts that God has given you, which are irrevocable, was God Himself.
  3. The truth we arrive at in the last point, we stay at. He has carried you through everything. Who has? The Shepherd, the Rock of Israel, the Almighty, the names could continue to be written here; there are so many, each carrying a testimony and revealing when heaven opened over your life. Jacob closes with something deeply personal: your father’s blessings are greater than the blessings of the ancient mountains. They are fresh and living blessings for today.

What wall stands before you today? Are you carrying marks of the arrows? God is the same. The Mighty One of Jacob is here. Goodness will come for He always finds a way to bear fruit in your life.

Run, Forrest, Run!

Every person should experience the feeling of being totally free to be what they were always made to be. Jacob knew that moment when he looked at his son Naphtali.

“Naphtali is a doe set free that bears beautiful fawns.” (Genesis 49 v 21)

Remember this line from the 1994 film, Forest Gump? “Run, Forrest, run!” It was said by his childhood friend, Jenny. Young Forrest had leg braces and was being chased by bullies who were throwing rocks at him. Jenny, running alongside him, shouted, “Run, Forrest, run!” and as he ran, the braces broke away and fell off. It was the moment he discovered he could run, and run fast. It became the defining image of his life. He ran from that moment forward literally and metaphorically.

A doe was made not to be constrained. Jacob saw something in Naphtali that spoke of freedom and beauty.

For anyone who has known what it is to be held back and unable to be fully what God made them to be, this is for you. You were not meant to live constrained. You were made to run. When grace sets a life free, it does not simply remove the restraint; it releases the power of multiplication. This is a language of blessing. Beautiful blessing.

Grace sends you running into something new. So run.

Not the platform but the table.

Some people are built for the platform and some for the table.

We need the Asher people.

“Asher’s food will be rich; he will provide delicacies fit for a king.” (Genesis 49 v 20)

Rich royal delicacies. That is the table Asher will provide for, and what others will be glad to sit at.

Asher isn’t called to be a warrior or a judge. He is called to be a provider. To feed people well. To bring something to the table that others couldn’t bring for themselves.

I saw this last Sunday. I was at a church that once again fed the poor after the service; it was so amazing, a blessing to those who were there. The church isn’t large in numbers by any means, but the Christians are Asher people. Maybe their calling isn’t as dramatic as some, but it is certainly as significant and maybe more so.

It’s easy to assume that the most important roles are the ones that carry the most visible weight. But God also blesses the one whose gift shows up on the table rather than the platform.

Asher’s blessing is a reminder that generosity is a kind of greatness. You may not feel like much. But what if what you carry is exactly what someone else needs at the table?

Bring it generously.

It’s fit for a king.

Down but not out 

It’s going to be tough, but you will live to fight another day. That’s the message of blessing to Gad.

“Gad will be attacked by a band of raiders, but he will attack them at their heels.” (Genesis 49 v 19)

Life is full of great moments and tough times. Gad is certainly not promised an easy life. But he has been promised that he will find a way to get back up again.

Most of us know the day of the diagnosis or the betrayal or the day ending certainly not how it started.

This beautiful blessing is for you today as a reminder that the One who speaks over your life sees beyond the moment of attack or disappointment to the moment of recovery.

The raiders don’t get the final word. Gad does.

You may be in the middle of an attack right now. The strike is not the end of the story. There is life left in you. 

Gad will attack at their heels.

So will you. You will live to fight another day.

Looking up till the end.

In the middle of a list of blessings to his sons, Jacob seems to pause; he doesn’t rush on to the next one, he looks up perhaps, and he says, “I look for your deliverance, Lord.” Genesis 49 v 18

I find this interesting. Right in the middle of the blessings, Jacob has a new thought. It leaves me thinking this was something deep in his soul that wouldn’t stay down any longer.

At the end of his long life, he is still waiting on the Lord.

He has spent the majority of his life waiting. He has waited through years when the promises of God felt very far from the reality before him.

And still he waits.

Jacob, old and near death, is still looking and waiting on God.

His eyes have seen the pit, the grief, the long silent years over Joseph, and yet he is still looking up. This is an expectant dying man, leaning forward into what God has not yet done.

That’s how I want to leave this world, don’t you?

This is faith with eyes wide open, even if they are closing.

The power of the overlooked.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sermon on Dan, nor sang a song about Dan; come to think of it, I’ve never preached about Dan either. Daniel, yes, but not Dan. What we read today seems quite negative on Dan, like an insult, but we remind ourselves that this is a blessing from Jacob. So what does it mean?

“Dan will provide justice for his people as one of the tribes of Israel. 17 Dan will be a snake by the roadside, a viper along the path, that bites the horse’s heels so that its rider tumbles backward.” (Genesis 49 v 16-17)

This is not an insult.

Look again.

The horse falls, and the rider goes down. How? By a snake, a viper, something that doesn’t overpower the enemy but destabilises it. The unexpected strike and a great animal comes tumbling.

God has always worked this way.

Look at this list, but there are so many more in the Bible:-

  1. The stuttering prophet — Moses
  2. The shepherd boy with five stones — David
  3. The prostitute with a scarlet thread — Rahab
  4. The barren woman — Sarah, Hannah, Elizabeth
  5. The runaway — Jonah
  6. The tax collector at the booth — Matthew
  7. The child with a packed lunch — feeding thousands

I’ve only listed seven; I could have listed so many more. He works through the unnoticed and the ones the world thinks are not a threat. Dan is small, a younger son of a concubine and easy to overlook. Yet Jacob speaks justice over him before the world has seen a single thing.

You may feel like Dan. Not the obvious choice, maybe by others. Insignificant. A roadside place that people pass through without stopping.

But snakes don’t need to be seen to be effective.

That’s the power and blessing of the Dan people.