Missions Paul

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Jacob is blessing his sons one by one, and when he gets to Issachar, he thinks about a donkey.

“Issachar is a rawboneddonkey lying down among the sheep pens. ¹⁵ When he sees how good is his resting place and how pleasant is his land, he will bend his shoulder to the burden and submit to forced labour.” (Genesis 49 v 14-15)

This is not a glamorous tribe, just a strong donkey settled between the sheep pens.

He sees how good the land is. He bends his shoulder, meaning he takes the weight of the task.

This weekend, I am with a small church that meets on a large housing estate of families with extraordinary needs. Last evening, I was with the church leaders who are bearing the weight of the task. They are tired physically because the task is real. They need to reorganise so that they are not overwhelmed. They need rest. But they are not called to an easy life. The rest they need is to rest in God’s power.

Today, on Pentecost Sunday, as we celebrate the pouring of the Holy Spirit on the 1st Church, we realise again that the Upper Room was not the end but the starting point for carrying what the Spirit gives you. The Great Commission was huge. How would this fledgling church carry such a vision and purpose? It was by the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit comes so you can carry something you could never carry in your own strength.

Issachar saw the land’s goodness and said yes. The disciples felt the wind of heaven and said yes.

Pentecost was not the end of the story. It was the moment the load got picked up. The same Spirit who filled that room fills you today. The question, though, for you is what was given to Issachar and the disciples in the first century: will you bend your shoulder?

Zebulun’s blessing teaches us that sometimes, standing at the shoreline, serving those passing through life’s storms can become a wonderful purpose for living.

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“Zebulun will live by the seashore and become a haven for ships; his border will extend toward Sidon.” (Genesis 49 v 13)

Zebulun is given the shoreline even before the territory is occupied. The sea represents trade and opportunity in interacting with distant nations. Zebulun was positioned not to remain isolated, but to engage with the wider world. His calling is not separated from the location; it is the place he is called to. Being a haven will be his purpose.

Havens provide safety during storms and rest during long journeys. Maybe that is what you are called to be? You serve others, and in doing so, you are known for your reliability. People can depend on you. A haven doesn’t compete with ships; it stays and becomes the place ships aim for.

Yet even though this is a very important role, there is more. The mention of Sidon, an important Phoenician trading city, points to influence beyond its immediate borders. Zebulun’s blessing was not confined to a small space; it extended outward.

Where you are placed matters. God often positions people strategically. Your workplace, community, and perhaps even family can become places of refuge, connection, and provision.

Are we becoming a safe harbour for others? Are we bringing peace and encouragement to those who know what it is to be storm-tossed?

Purpose is not necessarily ahead of you, but it is here, where you are, right now. This is where God has positioned you.

Every family has a favourite or the eldest. God has a habit of choosing neither.

“Judah, your brothers will praise you; your hand will be on the neck of your enemies; your father’s sons will bow down to you. You are a lion’s cub, Judah; you return from the prey, my son. Like a lion he crouches and lies down, like a lioness—who dares to rouse him? The sceptre will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until he to whom it belongs shall come and the obedience of the nations shall be his. He will tether his donkey to a vine, his colt to the choicest branch; he will wash his garments in wine, his robes in the blood of grapes. His eyes will be darker than wine, his teeth whiter than milk.” (Genesis 49:8–12)

The brothers won’t praise Joseph. It would make sense if they did; he was the favourite son.

The brothers won’t praise Reuben. It would make sense if they did; he was the firstborn.

But it is Judah. This is the man who sold his brother into slavery and deceived his father with a bloodied coat. Judah’s willingness to substitute himself for Benjamin (Genesis 44:33) turns the whole story. He becomes praiseworthy not by being the favourite or the firstborn but by offering himself. The king who earns the obedience of nations does the same thing. Therefore, the brothers will praise him.

Jacob speaks into the far distance. Whether he knows he is speaking beyond the Judah generation to a King who will come from that line, we are not told. But the shape of what he sees is unmistakable.

He will tether his donkey to a vine. A throwaway agricultural image, until you realise it is a prophecy of a king who rides into his own coronation on a borrowed animal. Not a warhorse but a donkey. The humility was always part of the promise.

Centuries pass.

Matthew’s gospel opens with a genealogy of forty-two generations from Abraham to Jesus. Fourteen of them pass through Judah, the lion’s line. And when at last the King comes, he enters Jerusalem on a donkey. He drinks a cup of wine at a final supper and calls it his blood. He is condemned in a purple robe, the colour of royalty.

Jacob didn’t know the name. But he knew the shape of the one who was coming.

The sceptre belongs to him, “until he to whom it belongs shall come.” The sceptre is held in trust. Judah’s line, Solomon, David, etc., are regents, not the real king. They are custodians waiting for the rightful owner, the true king, to arrive.

Jacob is blessing his sons on his deathbed, barely able to see. And yet he sees further than any of them. Which is perhaps what faith always looks like.

Jacob is on his deathbed, and when he reaches Simeon and Levi, he doesn’t lighten his words. He has strong words for them.

“Simeon and Levi are brothers—their swords are weapons of violence. ⁶ Let me not enter their council, let me not join their assembly, for they have killed men in their anger and hamstrung oxen as they pleased. ⁷ Cursed be their anger, so fierce, and their fury, so cruel! I will scatter them in Jacob and disperse them in Israel.” (Genesis 49 v 5-7)

This is not an easy read. As Jacob remembers, he curses. He is speaking of Shechem; he hasn’t forgotten. Remember? His sons massacred every man because of the horrible treatment of their sister, Dinah. Their anger led to their violence. It wasn’t fair justice.

The result of their actions was that the family had to scatter. There was no territory and no legacy. The anger of Simeon and Levi may have looked powerful at the time, and they themselves thought they were defending honour. Perhaps they thought their actions were righteous. However, unchecked anger always destroys more than it protects. The end result was that eventually it cost them their inheritance.

But the story doesn’t end with the curse.

Levi’s descendants would go on to become the priestly tribe, the ones who stood closest to God and who served at the altar. God himself was their inheritance.

The blood that Simeon and Levi shed in anger was answered, eventually, by blood shed in love. “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us.” (Galatians 3:13)

Your past does not have the last word. The cross does.