Turning Points:
Jacob at Bethel

Adam Byrnes

The premise of this collection of thoughts — turning points — is firstly, that discipleship is not a linear experience. Rather it is often marked by moments. Some are so significant that they become a turning point that create change in discipleship. Secondly, we know for biblical characters that an event is a turning point because we can see it resonate later. We can observe the impact. And thirdly, these biblical turning points translate over time, being relevant and helpful for our own discipleship.

Jacob is an accessible character. Many chapters and words are given over to his life story. There is narration of events, dialogue recorded, and internal thoughts shared. More than this, Jacob is accessible as we receive him: raw, fallible, unabridged, and real. So much so, we recoil at some of his behaviour. We wonder at his motivations and can be puzzled by his actions.

Now the author of Genesis provides two helpful insights or two keys to understanding Jacob. The first key is a visual key. The author demands that we keep our eyes fixed on Jacob’s hands. It’s the very first thing we see — a hand that wrestled within the womb is first seen wrestling from the womb. Those hands make pottage in the birthright incident. Those hands are covered in goat’s hair in deception. Those hands take a rock for a pillow. Those hands wrestle a brother by the brook. Those hands take hold of a staff due to an injury of the hip. And the author of Hebrews asks us to focus on those hands in Jacob’s description of faith, as he rests them upon a staff and then raises them in blessing Joseph’s sons with crossed arms and hands placed on each of his grandsons’ heads. The key, the Genesis author intends, is that you keep your eyes on Jacob’s hands. They are an insight into where he is at spiritually.

And there’s a second key, a second insight by the author. And this insight of Jacob is so obvious that it’s possible just to miss it. In Genesis chapter 25, the author narrates that unusual pregnancy of Rebecca, that unusual birth of Esau and Jacob, and the unusual physical attributes of Esau. And the author, through the narration, stops and provides a summary statement of each of the boys. Jacob, the author says, was a quiet man, dwelling in tents. And so the author notes two things. He’s quiet — the word elsewhere, as we understand in the new Testament, is more commonly interpreted blameless; so the first thing is blameless — and secondly, he lives in a tent.

Now, each of these elements are striking, because we soon read of a man whose actions are not best described as blameless. And interestingly, tent living is not a distinguishing feature of a nomadic family.

Doubtless Esau also lived in a tent as did many others. But this fact of tent living is not used as a descriptor or character statement of anyone else.

So what is it that the author is trying to tell us by describing the oh-so-very-obvious that Jacob lived in a tent?

Time doesn’t permit detailed analysis, but the Genesis author has already written previously about where people dwell. In fact, by chapter 25 of the book, the author has already developed it as a spiritual theme. In Genesis 11, people take bricks and bitumen and they build a city to make themselves and name. Babel speaks of the arrogance of man, the self aggrandisement of man, and, of course, a challenge to God.

In that very same chapter we meet an important family: Terah, Abram, Sarai, Lot. An itinerant family on a journey towards Canaan, living nomadically in tents. So, there in Genesis 11, the city of Babel is juxtaposed against the tents of the family of promise.

Genesis 13 is probably the starkest example of the author’s theme. It’s the story of tent dwellers Abraham and Lot agreeing to make space between their flocks. And in the most deliberate manner, the author sets out the progressive steps of Lot from a tent overlooking a well-watered plain, to a tent among the cities of the Valley, to moving his tent as far as Sodom. At the end of chapter 13, Abraham also moves his tent — by the Oaks of Mamre where he makes an altar.

The story is picked up in Genesis 18. We find Abraham sitting at the door of his tent when three angels visit, and he bargains with those three angels about the tipping point for the destruction of Sodom. By contrast those angels that came to Abraham — sitting at the door of the tent — then come to a Lot — sitting at the gate of Sodom. And as they lodge overnight, the city’s inhabitants act in a godless manner. As the author is careful to document Lot’s journey from tent to city, and intentionally contrast that of Abraham the tent dweller, so here we have the city of Sodom juxtaposed against the tent of Abraham. And, of course, the story emphasises the problem of city dwelling by making the point that — remarkably — Lot remains faithful despite his location.

Early in Genesis 25, the very chapter in which Jacob is described as living in a tent, the sons of Ishmael are named, and the author notes a distinguishing feature of Ishmael’s descendants: they associate themselves with villages, surrounded by walls, by their encampments and their positions as chiefs or governors of a community of people. Each male son denotes themselves by position and place and power.

And nine verses later, we read of a child’s birth, and the author explained something about that child: that when he grew up, he lived in a tent. His distinguishing feature is that his attitude, his interests, his character, and his motivations are that of tent life.

You see tent life is code. It is so apparent that it is code, that the writer of the book of Hebrews picks up on this pre-existing well-established literary code when speaking of Abraham living in tents, and Isaac and Jacob also living in tents. And he connects this with their faith in a future of God’s making — a future city no less. So tent life is synonymous with faith.

This introduction to Jacob is important. The author intentionally provides the reader a lens through which to understand him. The author doesn’t seek to justify the actions of Jacob, some of which are clearly abhorrent. Rather the author gives us an insight into what makes Jacob tick. What are his underlying drivers? What indeed are his motivations? You see, this man has an interest in, and a connection with, the things of God and the family of God. Tent living is what distinguishes Jacob

Now, despite Jacob’s motives, his early decisions are without doubt, poor. And ultimately out of step with tent life. It comes to a head in Genesis 27, which closes with one of the most ironic moments in scripture. And it’s dire irony. Jacob, by taking matters into his own hands, has obtained the birthright, has obtained Isaac’s blessing, has obtained the position of family leadership. He had an appetite for spiritual things, but his manner of acquisition results in the opposite. For he finds himself alone in a rocky field, lonely and alienated from the family he now leads, disconnected and walking away from the place promised to Abraham and Isaac. Not even a tent to dwell in. Lonely. Alienated. Hopeless.

And in this state, his hands take hold of a rock. His hands brush off the dirt on the rock. He lays his head on that rock and sleeps. Darkness descends. And Jacob is in a dark spiritual place.

But Bethel changes this. Bethel is where Jacob awakes to a fundamental spiritual idea. It’s a turning point for him. And directly relevant to the disciple today.

He has a dream. The dream is familiar to us. It’s a dream with two elements. There’s an audible element — Jacob receives the actual promise already given to Abraham and Isaac, a promise that only God can give, that Jacob cannot take, nor even Isaac bestow — and there’s a visual element — a ladder reaching to heaven, angels ascending, and descending, and the Lord standing above it.

The promise is a beautiful reversal of the situation Jacob has got himself into. Jacob tries to seize the family headship through opportunism and deception, and he ends up alone in a field. But God shows him that even in the field, he’s in the company of angels. More than that, there is a ladder that directly connects that rocky field with heaven above. And so loneliness is dealt with. Jacob’s efforts have alienated him from his family, but in the dream God promises him a family and numerous descendants. And so alienation is dealt with. Jacob is estranged and walking away from the land of promise. But God tells him that the land he sleeps on, he will own, and that he will be brought back to this land. And so hopelessness too is dealt with.

So God, in the space of a night’s dream, flips Jacob’s desperate state, and powerfully demonstrates that birthright and blessing are bestowed (never taken), promises are bestowed. And the ladder makes the promise vivid and tangible, as Jacob now visualises personal connection and relationship with heaven above.

But it’s Jacob’s words as he awakes that really demonstrate the full impact of this moment — the turning point that this moment is. Jacob says,

Surely the LORD is in this place — and I did not know it! … How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven. (Gen 28:16-17)

Can you sense the epiphany? Can you hear the change in tone? Do you perceive the character development in the words and the tone? I mean, Jacob surely cannot mean that God’s house is located in a rocky field next to the town of Luz, somewhere in Palestine. And Jacob surely cannot mean that this rocky field is some kind of gate or portal directly to heaven.

I think Jacob’s meaning is clear. God is with me, even here, even when away from the family, and the land of promise. God is present and available and directly accessible in all places. And at all times. God is not limited to a certain place, or a certain people. And that epiphany is connected with the four clear and direct statements of God, in verse 15, where he says, I am with you, I will keep you, I will bring you I will not leave you. We’re not left to just guess and theorise about this as Hosea himself comments on this in Hosea 12, he says Jacob found God at Bethel and there, God spoke.

Now up to this point, Jacob had not really met God. At Bethel, he found God. This night, Jacob connects with the kind of house that God is building. It’s a house based on relationship — I’m with you wherever you are — and it’s a house built and based on promise — I’ll bring you back, I’ll deliver on my promise. A house based on relationship and promise.

So Jacob connects emotionally and intellectually with the concept of what the house of God really is. Even alone in a field, even immediately after appalling behaviour, even in a rocky field, one can be in the house of God. One can be assured that God will be with you, that he will deliver on his promise. And Jacob connects — making that ladder visual so rich.

And in the morning his hands pick up the rock, and they set up the rock as a pillar. And those hands take oil, which they pour over the pillar. And he makes a vow to God.

Jacob’s turning point is in Bethel. Bethel is less a place. Bethel is an idea. Jacob alone, in a field connects with the kind of house God is building. Bethel is the idea that God’s building is founded on relationship and promise between the individual and God himself. That the connection between God and man, symbolised by a ladder, is the idea of relationship and promise. That’s what Bethel is. That is the house.

Now the proposition of this series is that we can be confident that an event is a significant turning point for a disciple when it is evident in subsequent events or commentary in their life. So we need to test whether Bethel is a turning point for Jacob by noticing the subsequent commentary. And for Jacob, it is really clear to see. Hosea says as much, when he says Jacob met God at Bethel.

But let’s also remind ourselves that when an angel visits Jacob at Laban’s to encourage him to return to Israel, he hears this. The angel says,

I am the God of Bethel, where you anointed a pillar and made a vow to me. (Gen 31:13)

When Jacob was distraught at the horror of the events at Shechem with his daughter and his sons, it is God who says,

Arise, go up to Bethel, and settle there. Make an altar there to the God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau. (Gen 35:1)

And so Jacob says to all those around him,

let us arise and go up to Bethel, so that I may make there an altar to the God who answers me in the day of my distress and has been with me wherever I have gone. (Gen 35:3)

And then, when he arrives at Bethel, he builds an altar. The writer notes, Jacob calls the place El Bethel, because there, God had revealed himself to him (Gen 35:7).

And there at Bethel, Jacob is renamed Israel.

And at the same time they are at Bethel, God again gives him the covenant of promise.

So I think it’s self-evident. Bethel becomes, for Jacob, a place to reset, to reboot. It’s a refuge. And it’s not because of the physical characteristics or the natural beauty of the place. It’s a rocky field, beside the town of Luz, somewhere in Palestine. It’s not for those reasons. It’s because, for Jacob, Bethel is synonymous with the turning point idea that relationship and promise with God is not tied to people or place. It’s a certainty that God is with him. He’s in this place, and I did not know it. And so Jacob meets God, appreciates God, and has a faith founded on relationship and promise. It is fundamental to Jacob becoming Israel.

And it’s entirely relevant and equally important for you and I. You see, Jacob’s awakening at Bethel provides a salient spiritual insight for the disciple. We don’t make some detached observation of some man maturing his understanding in the ways of God. Nor do we look back to an ancient time and make some kind of detached analysis. This is far more personal than that.

Jacob’s turning point is for you and I. Your relationship with your God cannot be through people or place. Your discipleship doesn’t have its ultimate foundations in Christadelphia. Nor being a member of your ecclesia. Nor in attendance at church activities. Nor even in being engaged in church talk about church things.

Jacob had made that mistake. Meeting God is not via people or place. It’s not in externalities. It’s not grasping after the tangible. Time or position at the ecclesia does not equal relationship with God.

And this truth resonates with the earlier description about Jacob’s character. Jacob, a blameless man, living in a tent. Jacob engaged with the hope of his grandfather and father. Inspired to be transient now, knowing that what matters are the values of the family, what counts is the idea of relationship and promise.

Now this of course is not to dismiss the value and the instruction around communal discipleship. I’m not setting that aside. This is clarity, however, of the fundamental elements of the individual disciple’s faith. God and the disciple connect and meet in the idea revealed at Bethel. And it is very simply the engagement of the disciple with God. God and the disciple are bound, connected, and are engaged by relationship and promise. And relationship and promise are not found in tangible places or through other people. The disciples’ attitude is that they have their spiritual roots — not in the here and now — but instead they live with a sense of transience. Live lightly so to speak. Driven by the intangible, and knowing that what matters primarily is connection with God through relationship and promise. It’s where effort and investment are best first applied.

And Hosea makes this point equally to us. Jacob’s experience is relevant to you and I. Hosea says Jacob met God at Bethel, and there God spoke with us (Hos 12:4).

So at Bethel, God speaks to you. Do you hear his voice?

The three spiritual visuals help. Hands. Tent. Ladder.

What are your hands most busy with? Is it self-determination or spiritual trust?

And do you live in a tent? That’s code for asking where are you spiritually focused and spiritually belong?

And the ladder. Is your primary spiritual connection direct to the God of heaven who was offered you relationship and promise, not via an alternative place or person or organisation, but direct, like that ladder connected from earth to heaven?

In Bethel, God speaks to you too. So you too can proclaim the exact same thing as Jacob about your spiritual circumstances. The Lord is in this place. How awesome is this place? This is none other than the house of God. And this is the gate of heaven. Amen.