
Reconciled
Last week we began to consider Jacob's homecoming. He comes back to the land God told him to go back to, and he's really concerned about the whole reason he left in the first place which was that his brother wanted to kill him.
So Jacob prays, and he plans, and he sends his brother off a huge gift. "For he thought," said verse 20, "I may appease him with the present that goes ahead of me, and afterward I shall see his face."
It's interesting that in Hebrew, the literal word used in the first part of that phrase is "I may appease his face." There's a big focus there on Esau's face. The face often reveals the heart, and Jacob wants Esau to be smiling, not frowning, when he sees him.
That night, though, he encounters another face, a face he didn't expect. He sees the face of the angel of the Lord, representing and perhaps embodying God Himself, as he wrestles with God all night long.
Isn't it so often the case that when we're worried about our relationships with someone else, what we really need is God? When we're concerned about the face of another, our greatest need is for God's face to shine on us?
That was Jacob's experience. Jacob thought he was coming back to the promised land to meet his brother, but actually he was coming back to meet God. Jacob thought his brother was the greatest threat to his life, but meeting and wrestling with God could so easily have taken his life sooner. Jacob thought his biggest need in coming back to the land to make peace with his brother, but the bigger priority was coming to terms with God.
That was all last week. And that's all true. And yet, Esau looms. The meeting with God has framed and redefined his meeting with Esau, but that meeting with Esau still needs to happen. And that's what we consider in our passage today.
1. Patching Up (vv. 1-11)
Chapter 33 begins with a dramatic, almost cinematic, description of Jacob seeing Esau for the first time. I love these phrases like "The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip" (32:32) because of how they draw us in to the story and put our perspective right in the midst of the action. And we get another one of those great descriptions here in 33:1: “And Jacob lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, Esau was coming, and four hundred men with him.”
We picture Jacob's eyes scanning the horizon as this group of men comes into view, no doubt kicking up a cloud of dust as they approach.
Here it is. 20 years has built up to this.
So Jacob divides up his children. This part, I'll admit, is a little hard to swallow. Jacob puts his wives' servants and the children they bore to him in front. Next, Leah and her children, and then his favourite wife with her only son in behind. It's pretty clear to everyone that he's arranged them in order on purpose based on how much he values the women, and maybe putting Rachel and Joseph in behind so that they have the best chance of escape should Esau attack.
That's a little tough to watch. And yet we should be impressed with verse 3: “He himself went on before them, bowing himself to the ground seven times, until he came near to his brother.” He sent the gifts on ahead of him, but he's not sending his wives and kids on ahead of him. He goes first.
Which is what men do. Men, take note that "ladies first" does not apply when danger approaches.
And look at what Jacob does next: he bows himself to the ground seven times. That's what servants did in the presence of kings. He's treating Esau like a prince here, with himself as the servant.
Was there a moment here of waiting at the very end? Bowed to the ground for the seventh time, his heart beating so loud he could hear it, tension so thick he could cut it, listening for the sound of swords being pulled from scabbards, of Esau's voice shouting "attack!"?
a. Reunion (vv. 4-7)
And what does he hear? The sound of feet running. Jacob can't run—he's limped his way here. But he looks up and Esau is running towards him. Did Jacob brace for impact, for the feeling of a blade on his neck? But there's no sword in his hand. His arms are open.
Esau runs to meet him and embraces him and falls on his neck, which is a way of talking about hugging him around the neck, and he gives him the familiar kiss of greeting, and together the two of them weep.
Jacob, feeling his brother's hairy arms around him, the old smell he hasn't smelled since he wore his clothes two decades earlier. Two men big enough to cry in each other's arms.
Wow. We were not expecting this. Jacob was not expecting this, and we weren't expecting this, because of how well this part is written. We don't get any background information. We only know as much as Jacob knows. We get to share his surprise at a brother who doesn't want to kill him anymore.
We don't know when Esau's heart began to soften towards his brother. Was it at some point in the last 20 years? Was it when he started to miss him a bit? Was it when he heard he was coming back to see him?
Did Jacob's gifts have anything to do with it? Was it the two hundred and twenty goats, or the two hundred and twenty sheep after that, or the thirty camels, or the fifty cows, or the thirty donkeys after that? At some point in there, with space to reflect in between each drove of animals, as the gifts kept piling up, did he start to think, "Wow, Jacob really means business. Jacob wants to make up for what he did." At some point did it click in that he had nothing to gain by being angry, that this was his brother and he just wanted things to be okay between them again?
We don't know what went on in Esau's mind and heart. We do know that at some point, in some way, either with or without the effect of Jacob's gift, God answered Jacob's prayer and changed the heart of Esau towards his brother.
And now it's Esau's turn to lift up his eyes and see a company coming towards him—Jacob's children with their mothers. "Who are these with you?" he asks in verse 5. And Jacob answers, maybe sniffling as he speaks, "The children whom God has graciously given your servant."
We just need to pause and remember here that everything good Jacob has, he has at least in a sense because he got the blessing from Esau. These children are his because he got blessed by his father instead of his brother. They could be a reminder of that to Esau, and stir up his anger.
So Jacob speaks carefully. These children were graciously given to "your servant." He keeps speaking to Esau as if he's speaking to a king. And these children and their mothers come forward and act as if they're in the presence of a king—bowing one at a time like we see in verses 6 and 7.
b. Recompense (vv. 8-11)
Then Esau changes the subject: "What do you mean by all this company that I met?" (v. 8). That "company" is actually the Hebrew word "camp," once again a play on the "camp" theme that came up in chapter 32. Esau is talking about the hundreds of expensive animals that Jacob sent his way to soften him up.
And Jacob doesn't hide his intention, also in verse 8: "'To find favor in the sight of my lord.' But Esau said, 'I have enough, my brother; keep what you have for yourself'" (vv. 8b-9).
Notice that while Jacob keeps using servant-and-lord talk, Esau is using brother talk. And he says to his brother, I have enough. Keep it for yourself.
Is there something going on beneath the surface here? "Sure, Jacob, you got the blessing, but I didn't need it. I've worked for what I have and I have plenty. I don't need your stuff." Or is this a case of some ancient rules for Middle-Eastern negotiations, where you refuse a gift at first, just because it's the polite thing to do, even though you intend to keep it?
Either way, Jacob insists, practically begging his brother to keep his gift. And he does so for two major reasons, explaining his in two different ways.
First, he describes all of those animals as an offering. Verse 10: "No, please, if I have found favour in your sight, then accept my present from my hand. For I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of God, and you have accepted me."
The word "present," used all throughout these chapters, if often translated as "offering" other places in the Old Testament, speaking of bringing an offering to God, and I think we're on the right track to hear the same religious overtones here, especially given the way Jacob compares seeing Esau to seeing God.
Jacob isn't flattering Esau here—rather, he's reflecting on the very real experience he just had the night before of seeing the face of God, and thinking he was going to die, and being spared. He's having déjà vu here. Twice in just a few hours he's seen someone who could kill him but instead has accepted him. "Accepted" is also a word often used in the Old Testament in the context of bringing God an offering and being accepted by him.
So here Jacob portrays his gift to Esau along the lines of an offering presented to God, or a tribute you'd bring to a king. Since Esau has accepted Jacob, surely he must accept his gift.
But that's not all. There's a second sense here in which Jacob explains his gift. It's here in verse 11 when he starts his request again: He begins the request again in verse 11: "Please accept my blessing that is brought to you."
Now he's using a different word. He's not talking about a gift. He's talking about his blessing. He's referring to all of those droves of animals as his blessing.
Do you get it? Those animals which came to Jacob because he took away his brother's blessing—same word. The sense here seems to be that Jacob is directly saying, "I'm giving you back at least some of the blessing that I took from you."
He's not ignoring the elephant in the room. Quite the opposite. "God has dealt graciously with me," he goes on to say. In other words, God has done just what our father spoke. I've been blessed.
"And because I have enough" he finishes. Something we miss in english is that this word "enough" that Jacob uses in verse 11 is not the same word as the word "enough" that Esau uses in verse 9.
Esau's word for "enough" is a word that means plenty, lots. Jacob's word is a totally different Hebrew word that means "everything." I have it all.
Jacob is not ignoring the issue. This is a pretty overt reminder of the fact that he got the more comprehensive blessing than his brother. "Esau, you've got plenty? I've got everything. So take my blessing, please."
"Thus he urged him, and he took it," verse 11 wraps up. Esau seems to pick up what's being put down. He doesn't offer Jacob a gift in return. He takes the gift, letting Jacob make at least a small amount of recompense for the blessing that would have been his.
And with that, Jacob and Esau have reconciled. They've patched things up. This is good. We should celebrate this.
2. Parting Ways (vv. 12-17)
...even though things start to get awkward pretty fast. Verse 12: “Then Esau said, ‘Let us journey on our way, and I will go ahead of you.’”
Um... wow. Esau is really okay with Jacob. He doesn't just not want to kill him, he wants to live near him now. It becomes pretty clear in a moment that Esau is inviting Jacob to come back and live with him in Seir.
Have you ever had an experience like this, where you're expecting someone to be angry with you, or want to not have anything to do with you, and instead they're really friendly, and maybe even a bit too friendly? Like, you just wanted them to not be angry with you, and now they're wanting to move in way too close?
That's the spot Jacob is in. Esau wants his brother to come live nearby.
And Jacob can't do that. Why? Why can't he do that? Why can't this nomad keep going south?
There's at least three reasons we can come up with. First, Jacob is probably not naive enough to assume that Esau's goodwill is going to last. He's wily enough to know that a few minutes of crying isn't going to magically erase decades of past tension or protect against whatever problems between them might come up in the future. Jacob has trust issues, and probably for good reason.
Second, there's the simple matter that Seir isn't his land. He's been promised the land of Canaan. That's the land Isaac blessed him with and God promised to give him. That's the land God commanded him to return to. “Then the Lord said to Jacob, ‘Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred, and I will be with you’” (Genesis 31:3).
So Jacob can't go with Esau. That would be disobedient.
Third, Jacob knows that he has the blessing. He's been blessed with the fatness of the earth and lordship over his brother. If he's living next to Esau, he's going to prosper, and probably at Esau's expense. Whether he doesn't want to provoke Esau's jealousy, or he doesn't want to stop Esau from getting ahead, he knows him and his brother will be better off apart.
But—how do you part ways from someone you just patched things up with? How do you explain all of this without making things awkward, and rubbing Esau's face in all of the messy stuff from the past, and risk rupturing your relationship so soon after reconciling?
Well, let's watch as we see Jacob try to get out of this one. First, he starts with an excuse. He says he can't go with Esau because of the young ones—the young children and flocks.
That's a burden Esau has known little about. So Jacob tries to explain, in verse 13: “My lord knows that the children are frail, and that the nursing flocks and herds are a care to me. If they are driven hard for one day, all the flocks will die.”
And in verse 14 he says that if Esau goes on ahead, he'll catch up at a slow pace "until I come to my lord in Seir."
Now there's an honest question here. Is Jacob flat-out lying to Esau, up to his old deceptive ways? Or, is he politely refusing in a way that Esau should pick up on?
I tend to think it's the second option. I mean, his comment about all of the flocks dying is an exaggeration that seems like its supposed to sound like an exaggeration. Not all of the flocks will die. Esau's not dumb.
This sounds like an excuse that's supposed to sound like an excuse. Like when your new neighbours invite you over for karaoke, and you tell them that you'd really love to, but you need to stay home and organize your sock drawer, but maybe you could do it again some time. A wise person will get the hint that you don't really want to do it again some time.
But Esau doesn't get the point. In verse 15, he says, “Let me leave with you some of the people who are with me.”
"Hey, I'll leave you with some of my boys for protection!" And, perhaps, assurance that they'll actually make the trip.
This time Jacob is just slightly more direct. “But he said, ‘What need is there? Let me find favor in the sight of my lord’” (Genesis 33:15).
It's very likely that, given the conventions and rules for polite negotiations in this day, both Jacob and Esau understood that last phrase—"let me find favor in the sight of my lord"—as a polite way of saying "please, Esau, don't keep pressing this. Please let this go. Let's just leave well enough alone here."
And Esau relents. “So Esau returned that day on his way to Seir” (Genesis 33:16).
They've patched things up, and now they've parted ways. And it seems like on good terms, because the next time they meet up, to bury their father, there's no mention of any strife. That's another clue that Esau got the hint and came to terms with the fact that him and Jacob are going to need some distance, permanently, as sad as that might be.
So Esau goes south, and Jacob turns west and heads closer to his final destination. He journeys to Succoth, which wasn't actually very far from where he was. And he seems to spend quite a while there, building a house and structures for his livestock.
3. Professing Faith (vv. 18-20)
And then he moves on again to Shechem, in the land of Canaan as the text tells us. See, Succoth was still on the far east side of the Jordan. It wasn't technically considered to be in the land of Canaan.
Shechem is across the Jordan and actually in the land. It's still a fair bit north of Bethel, the place that he promised to return and build a house for God. For some reason, Jacob seems to be dragging his feet making his way back to that place. , and his delay might have a role in some of the pretty terrible stuff that happens next week.
We'll consider this more in the next few weeks, but for now we should notice that there is at least some sense of finality at the end of this chapter. Jacob buys some land from the people of the city, and pitches his tent, and verse 20 says, “There he erected an altar and called it El-Elohe-Israel” (Genesis 33:20).
"El-Elohe-Israel" means "God, the God of Israel." Even though Jacob is not fully where he needs to be, he has completed a major portion of his pilgrimage. He's arrived in the land of Canaan, and he's arrived at a place of faith.
For years, Jacob has been iffy about his faith. God has been the God of Abraham and Isaac but not his God. He said that if God brought him back to the land, he would be his God. He let that almost-dare hanging the air for more than 20 years.
But God kept His promise, and Jacob knows it. And so he builds an altar and worships God and by naming the altar this name, he professes that God is his God. The one who kept him safe and prospered him and brought him back to the land is now his God.
For the first time, God has become the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
But there's more. By naming this altar "El-Elohe-Israel" instead of "El-Elohe-Jacob," he's acknowledging that the God of Abraham is the same God who wrestled with him at Peniel. He owns and receives the new name and identity God has given him.
God has become the God of Israel.
God's promises to Abraham are coming true. “And I will establish my covenant between me and you and your offspring after you throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you. And I will give to you and to your offspring after you the land of your sojournings, all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession, and I will be their God’” (Genesis 17:7–8).
And here, it's happening.
4. Practicing Reconciliation
And we don't want to lose sight of that big picture as we look at this episode of Jacob's life. In the end, this isn't really about Jacob or what he's done—this is about God, doing what He promised to do, making a people for Himself, taking them as his own, being their God, so that through them he may bless the nations through an offspring of Jacob named Yeshua.
And yet, without losing sight of that big forest, I think we can look closely at this tree, at this specific episode in chapter 33, and see some examples for us to follow, some truths for us to put into practice, particularly as they apply to reconciliation.
And I just want to point us to three truths about reconciliation.
a. Reconciliation with people requires promise-fuelled humility
The first truth here is that reconciliation with people requires promise-fuelled humility. Promise-fuelled humility.
What do we mean by that? Let's start with the humility part. There is no way that Jacob could have reconciled with Esau if he hadn't shown humility.
Imagine if he had shown up and said, "Hey, you sold me your birthright to me fair and square. Pretending to be you was simply protecting what was legitimately mine. You say sorry first."
Well, frankly, we might not be here today. This story might have ended more like one of the many tragedies that litter history, where someone is right and knows it and is proud of it, and they dig in their heels and by so doing dig their own graves.
Jacob's humility shows that he wasn't interested in keeping score or keeping appearances. He wanted to be at peace with his brother, and if that required acting like a servant and treating his brother like a prince, so be it.
Where do you think this humility came from? Was it just from fear? Was Jacob just willing to say or do anything in order to save his own skin?
I don't think so. I'd like to suggest that Jacob's humility is fuelled by his faith. He knows what God has promised. He knows the blessing that belongs to him, and what will belong to him because of that blessing.
He knows that he's going to come out way ahead of Esau, and so it's okay to bow down low for a few minutes if that's what it takes.
And if we're on the right track, then his humility is a bit of a picture of the humility described by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. The poverty in spirit that we can embrace when we know that ours is the kingdom of heaven (Matt 5:2). The meekness that comes from knowing we'll inherit the earth (Matt 5:5). The ability to rejoice in the face of persecution, knowing our reward is great (Matt 5:12).
It's the humility that lets us, in the words of Titus 3, submit to, and be gentle with, and show perfect courtesy towards, people who are foolish and disobedient—because we know the great hope of eternal life that's we'll be enjoying long after every bad boss and rude neighbour and terrible election result is just an old tale.
It's the humility that empowers us, in the words of 1 Peter 3, to give a gentle and respectful answer to people who are only interested in slandering us, because we know that Christ has won and Christ has brought us to God and any humiliation here on this earth is so, so temporary compared to the glory that's ahead.
So—making it personal—is there anyone in your life that you are at odds with, whom you need to reconcile with, but you've been holding out because you think they've done more wrong than you, and you're waiting on them to say sorry first?
Do you need to dig deep into God's promises—promises of future glory, future grace, of God working all things for good—and find the fuel to lay yourself low, and be reconciled?
b. Reconciliation with people requires obedient conviction
Now, that's not the only word on reconciliation. Today's passage also shows us that reconciliation with people requires obedient conviction.
Jacob's humility did not mean that he was a total pushover for whatever Esau wanted. He insisted that Esau take the gift. And, especially, he refused to go back to Seir. He set his foot down and didn't let Esau write the script.
We need to remember this because we live in a day where the wisdom of the age is that we need to do whatever it takes to reconcile, even if that means surrendering the truth, even if that means disobeying God.
You see this in homes, where husbands fold like a napkin at the first sign of anger from their wives, and they'll apologize for things that they never did wrong just to keep her happy because they have zero emotional resilience. Where parents bend over backwards to keep their kids happy, no matter what their kids are doing, because they are so afraid of "losing them."
We see this in society, where victims, or anybody who feels like a victim, get to write the script for how the rest of us are supposed to behave, whether or not truth or reality has anything to do with it.
Jacob was willing to be humble as far as he could, but he had a God to obey, and he could not do what Esau wanted him to do. God's word, not his brother's feelings, had to run the show.
Now, we can see that even as he disengages from Esau, Jacob is so polite. Having emotional courage doesn't mean you need to be a jerk about it. Humility and obedient conviction should go hand-in-hand, because it's about God and not us.
So, is there anywhere in your life, any relationships, where you've been tempted to sacrifice obedience for the sake of keeping someone happy? Where you've been letting people instead of God tell you how to act and respond?
God's word needs to be our authority, not other people's feelings, even in situations where we've legitimately wronged other people. Simple obedience to our Lord should give us the courage and emotional resilience we need to do what's right, with respect and conviction.
c. Reconciliation with God requires repentance and faith
Finally, today's passage shows us something about reconciliation with God, doesn't it?
Strangely, it's Esau who represents God in this story. This is not the only place in the Bible where we hear about someone returning home, worried that a family member is going to be angry with him, but this family member runs and falls upon his neck and kisses him.
The story of the Prodigal Son uses some of the very same language as the Greek translation of today's passage, showing us that Esau's face is like the face of God in more ways than one (Gen 33:4, Luke 15:20).
How many of us approach God like Jacob approached Esau, convinced he's permanently angry with us, trying to appease him with all kids of good gifts or good works?
Meanwhile God just wants us. He is already for us. He is eager to be reconciled to us. "Come to me!" Jesus urges us (Matthew 11:28).
How many of us struggle to believe that God actually wants to love us, wants to save us, wants to be with us?
And what more could God do to prove that this is true but give up His Son for us to bring us to Himself while we were yet sinners (Rom 5:8).
Friends, there is nothing that needs to keep you from God this morning. Whatever you've done, the price has been paid already by the wounds of Jesus. Our sins are covered and paid in full, the score settled completely hundreds of years before you were even born.
There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus—no condemnation at all.
In Christ, God is reconciling the world to himself, not counting our trespasses against us, and through His word this morning we hear his appeal: be reconciled to God! (2 Corinthians 5:19-20).
If you know Jesus, enjoy that reconciliation. Celebrate it. Worship Him for it. Find fresh forgiveness for the sins that burden your conscience today. Fill up your soul with reconciliation grace and go out to share it with a world that needs it.
And if you don't know Jesus, would you hear and respond to the call this morning? Would you come, and know that before you've taken the first step He's already running to you, overjoyed that His child has returned?
We serve a God who delights to save, exultant at the chance to show His grace to needy sinners. I don't care what you've been told about God—this is what He's told us about Himself.
“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).
Would you come today, and receive a love like this?