One of many meaningful place names in the Book of Genesis is Machpelah, one that holds much nostalgia. The name either means “Two Portions” or “Folded Together”. Two Together conveys what Abraham had in mind when he purchased a field to secure the cave Machpelah as a tomb for his wife and himself. Abraham is known in the New Testament as “the father of faith” because “he believed God” when told that he and Sarah would have a child in their old age. The fact that it was physically impossible for Sarah to conceive was no deterrent to Abraham, whose God-given name means: “The Father of Many Nations.”
Yet we know that Abraham had very human imperfections. For example, when under pressure he told a half-truth, which by definition was a half-lie. But his greatest mistake was in succumbing to pressure from Sarah to produce a child, by her maid Hagar. This resulted in the birth of a half-promise, the child being born to him by her maid, Hagar, rather than by his wife ,Sarah. This resulted in a disruptive relationship. Hagar’s son, Ishmael, mocked Sarah’s later born son, Isaac. Ishmael was the product of Abraham’s inability to wait for God to fulfill His promise. Time had passed since the promise was given, and Sarah had grown impatient. So when she suggested that her maid Hagar be a surrogate, Abraham compromised.
The bad relationship that began after Isaac’s birth grew worse with the passing of years. In the apostle Paul’s view, Ishmael symbolized those under Law — “born of the flesh”, and Isaac those under Grace — “born of the Spirit.” Abraham, “the father of faith”, ought to have waited and produced a child of faith, rather than one of compromise. Ultimately Ishmael would become twelve tribes — a counterpart to Israel’s twelve tribes, and blessed by the LORD for Abraham’s sake. Isaac, however, would be Abraham’s legitimate heir, and the father of Jacob, who in turn would father “the children of Israel”.
But come with me in your mind to the cave of Machpelah, on the day of the patriarch Abraham’s burial. The body of Abraham’s wife, Sarah, has long been laid to rest in this place. Inseparable in life, they are now folded together in death.
Look around. Who do you see? The chief mourners are none other than Isaac and Ishmael. Whatever differences they have had, still have, or will have, are laid aside out of respect for the dead: Isaac’s father and mother and Ishmael’s father. Present tensions and past times mingle, for Machpelah is a cave of bitter-sweet memories.
Onlookers note the different appearances of the two sons: Isaac is still the mild son and Ishmael the wild one. But these differences now seem insignificant. Whatever happens from this day forward: wherever the two brothers go and however they fare, to both this moment at Machpelah will remain a sacred memory.
It’s now years later, and the scene has changed. We see another solemn gathering. This time two different brothers are the chief mourners. We are again at Machpelah, and the solemn occasion is the burial of Jacob and Esau’s father, Isaac. (The body of Isaac’s wife Rebekah already rests in Machpelah.)
What of these two brothers? We know that Jacob took advantage of Esau’s hunger to buy his birthright. We also know that he took advantage of Isaac’s blindness to cheat Esau of his father’s blessing. We know of Jacob’s escape after Esau vowed to kill him. And we remember how God appeared to Jacob at Beth-el in a dream, promising to bless him and to one day bring him back.
We call to mind the many deceptions of Jacob’s uncle Laban, a trickier man than Jacob, and how he arranged the infamous wedding night bride-switch. We remember Jacob’s love for Rachel, and how he wrestled with God at Peniel for the promised blessing, and that God renamed Jacob “Israel.”
We remember Israel’s humility as he stood alone, facing the oncoming and still vengeful Esau. And we remember the brothers’ intensely emotional reconciliation. Finally, we remember Jacob’s return to Beth-el as Israel, and the renaming of Beth-el (“The House of God”) as El Beth-el (“The God of the House of God”). How many years had passed? Twenty! Two decades, two brides, two surrogate servant-mothers, and too many dysfunctional relationships.
Esau would become a nation, and the fragile relationship shared by the two brothers would be broken by Esau’s descendants, the vengeful Edomites, who would capture Jews fleeing from Judea and hand them over to invading Babylonians. The prophet Obadiah would pronounce God’s judgement on Esau’s bitter descendants for betraying their brethren. The words, “Jacob have I loved but Esau have I hated,” would be penned by the prophet Malachi to express God’s foreknowledge of Jacob’s deep desire for his brother’s birthright, and Esau’s willingness to sell it for “a mess of pottage”.
Many years pass by, and we find ourselves paying our final visit to Machpelah. This time the solemn occasion is the burial of Joseph. The amazing life story of this son of Jacob and Rachel has been told and retold countless times. Nomads narrate it around their nighttime campfires. Some Egyptians still speak his name with awe, and tell their children how the interpreter of dreams saved them from a slow death by starvation.
Assembled at the cave of Machpelah were Joseph’s sons Ephraim and Manasseh, and his beloved full brother Benjamin, born to Jacob before Rachel died, and not long before Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery. In the end the brothers saw that God’s plan for their future included turning their evil into ultimate good. They are all here: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Zebulun, Issachar, Dan, Gad, Asher and Naphtali.
These would father the tribes of Israel, and under their kings, Saul, David and Solomon, their descendants would be known as the nation of Israel. That a family more dysfunctional than any seen in today’s TV ‘soap operas’ would be so blessed is a lasting tribute to God’s amazing grace! Joseph had buried the less-loved Leah, in the cave of Machpelah. She who had suffered as a result of her father’s duplicity and Rachel’s jealousy now lay folded together with Jacob, her husband in death.
Machpelah’s bitter-sweet memories had occupied the thoughts of the half-brothers Isaac and Ishmael and in the next generation the feuding brothers Jacob and Esau. Now an entire family, a nation in embryo, gathers to commit to God Joseph, the favourite son, the beloved brother. The tomb will now be sealed forever.
With that sealing an unseen but ever-present cloud of collective guilt that long lingered over the brothers will disperse. This family is primarily the product of one father and four mothers. Two of the mothers are the maids of Jacob’s wives, who had been pawns in their mistresses’ “Beat that!” baby games. This is the source of the behavioural problems the children will exhibit.
Yet out of the remnant of Jacob, out of Judah and out of Bethlehem, will come the promised Messiah, who will be the Son of David. At Machpelah, both Jew and Arab met (so to speak) in the loins of their ancestors Isaac and Ishmael. The two had different mothers, but Abraham had fathered both. Mutual acceptance in things that matter is the answer to the problem of age-old rejection.
At Machpelah, estranged step-children met yet again, in the loins of Jacob and Esau. Although different in nature and separated for decades, they found a place of reconciliation. That it would not last would be the fault of their descendants. God’s grace is provided for the offended, not for those who continue to bear the offence. At Machpelah, dysfunctional families met in the loins of their ancestral fathers to respect the one whose nobility of thought and deed was their shining example.
We need someone greater than ourselves to save us from ourselves. The lives of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph brought together — albeit for times that were all too short — their rejected, estranged, separated and divided descendants. For Abraham’s descendants Machpelar held precious, bitter-sweet memories.
But the tomb proves that it is not impossible for people of goodwill to rediscover their common ancestry, and in so doing see that there is more that unites them than divides them. Should such insights be forgotten or dismissed, what hope can there be of permanent reconciliation?