Esau: The scented son

As his father blessed him, Jacob exhaled slowly. He relaxed. "That was a close one," he thought to himself.

His mother's plan had been a good one. The clothes, goat skins, and recipes had all made him appear to be his brother. But he hadn't thought to disguise his voice? Stupid! All that preparation was almost wasted the moment he opened his mouth.

His father, who was obviously suspicious, had called him over. Jacob had obeyed. There was nothing to be gained from running away at this point. His father had reached out and grabbed his hands. Isaac felt them. Then he had said: "The voice is the voice of Jacob, but those hands are the hands of Esau." Jacob had given thanks that his father's eyesight had declined. He had then closed his own eyes as his father proceeded to bless him.

He assumed that the worst was now over. But then the old man asked, "Are you my son Esau?" Jacob steeled himself and replied, "I am." "Well, then bring me the food so that I may eat it and bless you."

"WHAT!?! No, no, no, no, no!" he thought to himself. "I thought this was done!" He tried to keep his hands from shaking as he brought the food to his father. He silently prayed that the inside of the goat would be as successful at deceiving his father as the outside had been.

They ate in silence. Seemingly interminable silence, as far as Jacob was concerned. He was silent with fear. Isaac, although he seemed to be enjoying his meal, seemed unsettled as he ate.

When he was finished, and the food was taken away, Isaac spoke: "Come here, my son. Give your father a kiss."

Jacob stood. He approached his seated father and leaned down to kiss him. As he did so, Isaac grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and pulled him closer. Unbalanced, he would have fallen had his father not had such a strong grip on him.

Jacob proceeded to place a kiss on his father's cheek. Isaac, in turn, gave him a kiss of his own. He then inhaled deeply. Jacob found this action oddly frightening. Seemingly satisfied, Isaac released him and allowed him to again stand.

Isaac smiled as he placed his hand on the son —believing him now to be the son that he loved— and proceeded to bless him. He began, "The smell of son is like that smell of a field that the Lord has blessed!"

Esau was the firstborn. The Bible tells us that he was a man of the field, a skillful hunter. It also tells us that he was his father's favorite, the beloved son. So, as Isaac grew older, and his eyesight failed him, he decided that it was time to bestow the customary blessing on his eldest.

He instructed Esau to hunt and then prepare him a meal so that he could receive his father's blessing. Rebekah, who overheard this exchange, then devised a plan whereby her favorite of the two sons —Jacob— would receive that blessing. They dressed him in Esau's clothes, covered his hands and neck with goat hides, and then sent him in with a meal — all steps designed to deceive Isaac.

Each of their techniques worked to some degree; however, it was Esau's clothes that finally convinced Isaac to unleash his full blessing. Jacob smelled like Esau. As he leaned in to kiss his father, he carried the scent of the beloved son. The start of Isaac's blessing makes it clear that this was the factor that finally settled the son's true identity in his mind.

Like Jacob, we dare not approach God the Father smelling like ourselves. There is no blessing for us. But when we approach God clothed with the scent of His dearly beloved Son, we receive spiritual blessings to which we are not naturally entitled. God treats us, in effect, as if we were His Son.

God is not hoodwinked like Isaac was. Yet Paul makes it clear that scent again plays a factor. He writes to the Corinthians to tell them that "our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God." Because we bear the smell of Christ, God chooses to treat us and bless us as His only beloved Son.

(Genesis 27, 2 Corinthians 2:15)

Jonah: The resurrected prophet

At first, he was sure he was dead. His final memories were just fragments: being thrown; the wind; hitting the water; sinking. The storm had seemed dark, but now he found himself in utter blackness. Cold. Silent. Dead.

The thought of death was almost calming. The slow realization that he was still alive was puzzling. Understanding that he was trapped inside something was ... terrifying! He thrashed. He screamed. It made no difference.

His mind raced. Of course he knew that God was displeased with him. He had known that before he got on the boat. The sudden storm confirmed it. When the sailors said they would throw lots, he knew that it would identify him. He knew he was guilty. That was why he had had them toss him overboard. But he still wasn't sorry. He didn't want to go Assyria. They were a bloodthirsty people. They deserved God's judgement for all they had done. They did not deserve mercy.

So he lay there in the darkness, shivering. One day passed, and then a second, although Jonah could not tell that sun sank or rose. Jonah's could feel his skin soften and pucker, but he could not see its skeletal in the dark.

With time his heart softened too. From deep within his grave in the deep and the dark, Jonah prayed. He began with a note of faith: "In my distress I called to the Lord, and He answered me..." As he finished, he felt movement. A rushing, shaking, constriction, propulsion, and then...

Daylight!

Jonah would not make the list of Top Ten Most Exemplary Prophets. In the four chapters of the book that bears his name, Jonah reveals himself to be rebellious, stubborn, ungrateful, and petulant. I find him quite relatable. Yet God is able to use Jonah —despite his obvious animosity toward his listeners— to bring many Assyrians to repentance. I find this encouraging.

Still, I wouldn't naturally hold up Jonah as a picture of the Lord Jesus. Christ was obedient and submissive. He wept over Jerusalem for the people's obstinancy. Jonah set up camp outside Nineveh in the hopes that God would still destroy the city.

So it is curious that twice in the book of Matthew Jesus identifies himself with Jonah. When the people demands a miraculous sign, He responds that the only one He would provide that was the one of Jonah the prophet: three days and nights in the heart of the earth. Jesus too brought a message of salvation. He too would rise again after three days.

Jesus then puts the onus on the inquirers. Jonah was not a model prophet. He half-heartedly preached his message while half-hoping for vengeance. Despite the limitations of the messenger, the people of Nineveh still repented in sackcloth and ashes. Now one greater than Jonah stood before them and they were without excuse. How would they respond?

(Jonah 1—4; Matthew 12:39—31, 16:1-4)

The scapegoat: The sin bearer

"...Are you sure? I think you may have it backwards."

"No. The bull is sacrificed for the high priest. One goat is chosen to be sacrificed for us. The other becomes the scapegoat."

"But they don't sacrifice the scapegoat too?"

"No, someone takes it out into the wilderness. But before they do, Aaron puts his hands on the goat's head —like this— and confesses all our sins. That way, when the goat is taken out into the wilderness, it takes our sins with it."

"How does Aaron know all my sins, Father? Do you tell him? Do you have to keep a list?"

"That would be a pretty long list, wouldn't it? And mine would be even longer! The truth is that I don't know. I've never seen it happen. I am just thankful that God has provided a way for our sins to be removed..."

On the Day of Atonement, the roles of the two goats were chosen by lot. One was identified as the Lord's and sacrificed for the sins of the people. The other became the azazel, the scapegoat. As Aaron placed his hand on its head, and confessed the sins of the nation over it, the goat was symbolically loaded with those very sins. It was then entrusted to a man appointed to take the goat out of the camp and release it into the wilderness. Because the sins had been laid onto the goat, it carried those sins from the camp when it left. These sacrifices and ceremonies were repeated on an annual basis to make atonement for the sins of the Israelites.

The Lord Jesus is our scapegoat. The apostle Peter wrote that He "bore our sins in His body on the tree". At the end of that verse, Peter quotes from Isaiah 53. Three times in that passage (verses 6, 11, and 13) Isaiah speaks prophetically of the fact that that our sins and iniquities were laid on, and borne by, Him. Our sins have been removed. Taken away. Not just for the year, but for all time.

(Leviticus 16; Isaiah 53; 1 Peter 2:24)

Aaron: The sinless high priest

"Father, where are they taking those animals?"

"Do you remember how this morning I told you that today was a special day? Today is the Day of Atonement. It is a very serious day. Those animals are being taking to the tabernacle as part of some special sacrifices."

"Special? What makes them special?"

"What makes them special? Well, normally we bring animals to the tabernacle to offer them as sacrifices for our own sins. But once a year these special sacrifices are offered to cleanse the whole nation and the high priest. It is really important that they be done properly."

"Why does the high priest need two goats?"

"What do you mean?"

"The bull is so big so it must be the sacrifice for us. So why does the high priest need two goats?"

"No, the goats will be sacrificed for us. One will, anyway. The other will be the scapegoat. It is the bull that will be offered to cleanse the high priest."

"Are you sure? I think you may have it backwards."

The sacrifices of the Day of Atonement do indeed seem to be backwards. A bull is typically four to five times larger than a male goat. On a per capita basis, one would anticipate that the larger sacrifice (the bull) would be offered for the larger group of people (the nation). But instead the larger sacrifice is made for the high priest and his family, while the much smaller goat is offered for the nation.

This seeming contradiction emphasizes for us the importance of the high priest. As the intercessor for his people, as the one who approached God on their behalf, it was critical that the high priest be acceptable in God's sight. The bull was offered annually to atone for the high priest's sins in order that he might carry out his duties. He had to be holy.

The book of Hebrews explains that Jesus is our perfect high priest. He does not need to offer sacrifices for his own sins. He is holy, pure, blameless. He is perfect. Forever. Even better, he does not need to offer daily (or even annual sacrifices) for the people. Unlike any other high priest, he could offer himself as the sacrifice. His sacrifice is all that is needed.

(Lev. 16:1-34, Heb. 7:26-28)

Elisha's stick: The transformer of natures

"No,no,no,no,no,no,noooo!"

He had been attempting to fell the tree. It was going to be a beam in their new building. He had swung the axe back to prepare for the next blow when he felt it lighten unexpectedly. His head spun over his shoulder just in time to see the axe head splash into the depths of the river. Gone.

"What am I going to do?", he wondered. It was a borrowed axe. Borrowed because he lacked the funds to buy his own — or a replacement! He cried out again and struck the tree with the now-headless handle. He stopped and sighed. "Yeah, some prophet I am," he muttered to himself.

He knew Elisha was working nearby so he ran to him, crying out his name. Elisha paused in his own work to listen. After the situation was explained, Elisha simply asked: "Where did it fall in?"

The man lead him to his half-felled tree and pointed. He watched as Elisha took his own axe, sheared a branch from the tree, and threw it into the water where he had indicated. The axe head bobbed to the surface! He watched as it began to spin and float downstream.

He felt Elisha prod him gently in the ribs with the butt of an axe handle. "Go lift it out", Elisha told him before returning work.

Elisha's life is relayed to us in episodes or vignettes rather than a longer, continuous narrative. In this particular passage, the prophets are undertaking a building program. Elisha is enlisted to join a work party on the banks of the Jordan hewing beams for the new structure. When the loss of a borrowed axe head causes quite a bit of commotion for one of the young prophets, Elisha calmly retrieves it for him from the bottom of the river.

Neither the brevity of the story nor Elisha's casual manner should take away from the miracle of what transpired. A deep and fundamental transformation was accomplished: iron was made to float. This is, of course, un-natural. The nature of a metal axe head is such that it should sink to the bottom of the river as a valuable item irrecoverably lost. Yet, by joining the axe head in the water, Elisha's stick imparts it's wooden nature to the iron. The axe head is transformed. It floats. It is recovered and restored.

A similar transformation happens in the life of a believer. We are being pulled down by a force that we are powerless to counteract. Left unaided, we will be something of value that will be irrecoverably lost. Yet, by joining us in our sin and our death, Jesus too can effect a great transformation. We receive His nature and His standing before a holy God, and we no longer need to fear the inevitable outcome of our fallen natures. We are raised up and lifted out.

(2 Kings 6:1-7; 2 Corinthians 5:21)

Samson: The sacrificial deliverer

He felt the servant take his hand and then grab him just above the elbow. He began to be lead... somewhere. No doubt the plan was to take him back to prison. Though he could barely make himself heard over the crowd noise, he managed to get the servant's attention. "Not yet. Take me to the central pillars. I need to lean against them."

The servant had not needed much convincing. Samson was out of breath from the humiliating performance he had just completed. He was also shaking, partly from exhaustion, but mostly from fury. The crowd shouting taunts had once only spoken his name in whispers. He had been powerful. He had been a fearsome enemy. Now he was reduced to a helpless, blind performer who had to be lead around by the hand. Now he was the entertainment. "Just wait for my final act," he thought to himself.

He could not say for certain, but based on the noise and the heat, he guessed there were a few thousand people at this temple celebration. He stretched out his arms and placed his hands flat on the pillars, fingers pointed upward. He shifted his feet slowly, bending his knees to widen his stance.

Then he hung his head. "O Sovereign Lord," he prayed --something wet hit his chest, eliciting a few cheers from the crowd-- "Remember me. Strengthen me once more. Let me take revenge for my two eyes."

He filled his lungs with air for the final time. Then he pushed with all his might and shouted: "Let me die with the Philistines!"

Samson's ministry was one of death and destruction. The book of Judges concludes his story by stating that he killed more in his death than he did during his life. Although his life had begun under auspicious circumstances --divine announcement, miraculous conception-- Samson never really lived up the promise of those early days. So it is that we see him at the end, humiliated in the presence of his enemies. His final words are a call to God for vengeance. His final act is to sacrifice himself to bring about the death of his enemies.

Samson serves as powerful counterpoint to the Lord Jesus. Jesus' birth was also divine in conception and foretold with angelic proclamation. Yet where Samson's life is characterized by unfulfilled potential, the Son performed all that the Father gave him to do.

It is, however, at the moment of their deaths when the starkest contrasts appear. Certainly there are still similarities: as they die, both men are surrounded by their enemies; they are being taunted and humiliated. But Samson's final thoughts are of death and of vengeance, whereas Christ's final moments are concerned with others. "Father, forgive them," He cried. Samson gave his life so that his enemies might die. Jesus sacrificed Himself so that His enemies might live.

(Judges 16:23-31)

Moses: The incomplete deliverer

He was breathing rather heavily by the time he reached the summit, but not as heavily as he had expected. "Not bad for an old man," he thought to himself.

He stood for a moment to take in the view. Off to the west he could see the Jordan river, the natural border to the land of promise. It was a land that he had heard of, dreamed of, and worked toward for so many years. But it was a land he would never enter himself. He would not have the joy of leading his people into their long-awaited inheritance. That task would fall to his successor.

His eye sight was still excellent, but in these his final moments he wished he could see the land more clearly. And then he felt he was... flying? He wasn't sure. But the distant land seemed to be speeding toward him.

He flew north over Gilead, and then zoomed along the banks of the Jordan. He saw the northern sea and its forests, then he began to move south. He passed over the hill country and into the mountains. Soon the western sea was hurtling toward him. He traveled further south to the Negev, the spot where the spies had entered Canaan almost 40 years earlier. It took him a moment to recognize, for he had never seen it from this perspective. Finally he felt himself returning to his body, past the city of Jericho and then... back. On Mount Nebo.

He was breathing more rapidly now. But not from exertion. It was incredible. What a beautiful land! He had heard the reports of the spies but... What a blessing awaited his people!

Then the Lord spoke to him for what Moses knew would be the final time of his earthly life. "This is the land I promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I promised to give it their descendants. And I shall. I have let you see it with your eyes, but you will not cross over."

There is no one afforded more respect among the Jewish people that Moses. And rightfully so. Moses was the prophet of God, the law giver, the deliverer of the people.

But while he was able to deliver them out of the land of oppression, Moses never succeeded in delivering those people into the land of promise. Moses, despite his many great abilities, was human. He was disobedient. And his disobedience kept him from finishing the work that God had entrusted to him. His deliverance was incomplete.

Jesus too has provided deliverance from bondage and oppression. His salvation, however, is complete. The author of Hebrews refers to him as the author and finisher of our faith. The former term refers to a leader or a pioneer who provides an example, while the latter refers to one who fulfills or completes. Paul uses similar language when writing to the church in Philippi: "He who began a good work in you will complete it."

Jesus has already entered the blessing into which He will lead his people. The deliverance that Jesus Christ provides is full. It is complete. It is finished.

(Deuteronomy 34:1-8)