Reaping What You Sow: A Significant Theme in Genesis

The great episodes of Salvation History recorded in Sacred Scripture can only be properly understood within their literary context. Too often, however, our reading of the Bible begins and ends with the New Testament. But, while the New Testament is important, it is in essence the ‘final chapter’ of the book. Just as we cannot begin to understand the final chapter of a book without having first read the chapters that precede it, so also we cannot truly appreciate the New Testament, the final stage in the story of Salvation, without a basic knowledge of the Old Testament. In fact, that the New Testament authors assumed their audience knew the Old Testament, is evidenced on every page. As it was remarked long ago, the New Testament is hidden in the Old and the Old Testament is unveiled in the New (Augustine, Quaest. in Hept. 2, 73). But, like the New Testament which cannot be fully understood without a thorough knowledge of the Old, so also the Old Testament can only be properly understood with a firm grasp on its first element, the Pentateuch. The Pentateuch itself, however, remains in obscurity unless one understands its first book, the book of Genesis.

An understanding of the book of Genesis, therefore, is an essential foundation for our understanding of the rest of the Bible. The problem, however, is that this first book of the Bible is not always easy to understand. One of the most common problems encountered by the modern reader of Genesis is the unpolished picture of the patriarchs. Most people are familiar with the basic stories of the lives of the patriarchs from children’s Bibles and church hymnals, but the biblical versions of these men aren’t always as perfect as commonly portrayed. In fact, their behavior as described in the book of Genesis paints a picture of the patriarchs that is often shocking to our modern sensibilities. The problem is further complicated by the apparent absence of any critique by the voice of the narrator in the story. If one believes that this book is inspired by God, then is one to conclude that God has a double standard? Do the patriarchs posses a certain ‘patriarchal immunity’ from ethical norms expected in other books of the Bible?

These problems are not insurmountable. What the modern reader must recognize is that the author of the book of Genesis assumes that his audience is aware of a basic biblical principle, namely, that sooner or later, a person reaps what he sows. The author, therefore, does not need to explain explicitly that this or that action was good or bad, instead, he shows the consequences of a particular action later in the story. When the modern reader recognizes this principle and literary technique, many of the previously encountered problems quickly fade or are at least seen in a different light. In order to illustrate this point, we will examine three well known stories from the book of Genesis, Lot in the city of Sodom (Gen 19), the blessing of Jacob by Isaac (Gen 27), and the selling of Joseph into slavery (Gen 37).

The story of Lot begins subtly at first as he is only mentioned briefly in the early part of the story of Abraham (Gen 11:27, 31; 12:4, 5). Lot’s downward spiral began when he decided to separate himself from Abraham due to strife between the herdsmen of Abraham and Lot:

8 Then Abram said to Lot, “Let there be no strife between you and me, and between your herdsmen and my herdsmen; for we are kinsmen. 9 Is not the whole land before you? Separate yourself from me. If you take the left hand, then I will go to the right; or if you take the right hand, then I will go to the left.” 10 And Lot lifted up his eyes, and saw that the Jordan valley was well watered everywhere like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, in the direction of Zoar; this was before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. 11 So Lot chose for himself all the Jordan valley, and Lot journeyed east; thus they separated from each other (Gen 13:8-11).¹

Lot was faced with a choice. Should he tell his herdsmen to get along with those of his uncle Abraham so that he could remain with the covenantal mediator of the people of the one true God, or should he head for what appeared to be greener pastures? Lot chose the latter. It should be obvious enough to the audience that this was a bad decision, but just in case the author mentioned two significant details describing Lot’s departure. Lot journeyed “east” and “they separated from each other” (19:11).

If the reader has been attentive up to this point, he has already begun to notice a developing theme in Genesis and one that will be encountered again in later books. Moving east is usually indicative that something has or is about to go wrong.

After Adam and Eve were cursed they were sent east, away from the presence of the Lord (Gen 3:24). When Cain was cursed for killing his brother, he too was sent east (4:16). Now the audience is told how Lot chose the attractive Jordan valley instead of reconciliation and “journeyed east.” The problem with his decision is made explicit by the second description of his departure, “they separated from each other.” If Lot wants land then this is not the way to get it. The story of Abraham began with a promise from the LORD that Abraham would have a land (12:1), and this point is emphasized by the author immediately following the story of Lot’s departure for the sake of land with a reminder of this promise about land.

14 The LORD said to Abram, after Lot had separated from him, “Lift up your eyes, and look from the place where you are, northward and southward and eastward and westward; 15 for all the land which you see I will give to you and to your descendants for ever (13:14-15).

It should come as no surprise, therefore, when in the very next story Lot gets taken captive in a battle between the local kings of the region over who will control the land (Gen 14), nor is it a surprise that Abraham remains safe through it all, and is shown to be, not only the savior of Lot, but the mightier king who will control the land in that region. If Lot had only remained with Abraham he would have been safe and had all the land he could ever want.

The next time we hear about Lot is in the well-known narrative about his sojourn in the city of Sodom (Gen 19). The story begins when two angels in the form of men enter the city and are invited by Lot into his home:

4 But before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both young and old, all the people to the last man, surrounded the house; 5 and they called to Lot, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, that we may know them.” 6 Lot went out of the door to the men, shut the door after him, 7 and said, “I beg you, my brothers, do not act so wickedly. 8 Behold, I have two daughters who have not known man; let me bring them out to you, and do to them as you please; only do nothing to these men, for they have come under the shelter of my roof” (Gen 19:4-8).

The request of this mad mob, that Lot bring out the men that they “may know them,” is appalling enough, as most readers are familiar with this Hebraic idiom referring to sexual relations (cf. Gen 4:1; 19:5; 19:8; 1 Kg 1:4). What is more striking than this request by the mob, however, is the response of Lot. Why would Lot offer his two virgin daughters to this mob of men? Is this behavior considered acceptable in the ancient world? Is the modern reader to conclude that this apparently abhorrent behavior of a father with his daughters is acceptable to the author of Genesis? If not, why doesn’t the narrator say something? What is God’s response to all of this?

The answer is simple and it is found in a proper biblical understanding of the principle stated above, that a man always reaps what he sows. If the biblical student is patient and appreciative of the literary style of the author of Genesis, he will discover that the inspired author fully intends to reveal the nature of a character’s actions, but in a way that the reader may least expect. A consideration of the next story about Lot and his family will illustrate the point.

After Lot and his family flee from the city, the inhabitants of the region are annihilated by an event akin to a nuclear holocaust from heaven (Gen 19:15-29). The story of Lot begins to come to a close with the following episode:

30 Now Lot went up out of Zoar, and dwelt in the hills with his two daughters, for he was afraid to dwell in Zoar; so he dwelt in a cave with his two daughters. 31 And the first-born said to the younger, “Our father is old, and there is not a man on earth to come in to us after the manner of all the earth. 32 Come, let us make our father drink wine, and we will lie with him, that we may preserve offspring through our father.” 33 So they made their father drink wine that night; and the first-born went in, and lay with her father; he did not know when she lay down or when she arose. 34 And on the next day, the first-born said to the younger, “Behold, I lay last night with my father; let us make him drink wine tonight also; then you go in and lie with him, that we may preserve offspring through our father.” 35 So they made their father drink wine that night also; and the younger arose, and lay with him; and he did not know when she lay down or when she arose. 36 Thus both the daughters of Lot were with child by their father (Gen 19:30-36).

What does the author expect the audience to gather from such a strange ending and the last mention of Lot in the entire book of Genesis? Again, we recall our fundamental principle—you reap what you sow. Lot offered his two daughters, who had not known men, to a mob of men in Sodom to do to them as they pleased (19:8). As a consequence, Lot’s own daughters came to know man as they did with him as they pleased. To further emphasize the depravity of Lot’s situation and to remind the audience of the previous episode (19:8), the narrator adds the comment, “Thus both the daughters of Lot were with child by their father” (19:37).

But this is not the end of the story. The narrator concludes by informing the audience that the offspring of these incestuous unions were the Moabites and the Ammonites, two of the most notorious enemies of the future nation of Israel (19:37-38). And so it was, that when Lot journeyed east and separated himself from Abraham, not only did he separate himself from the covenantal mediator of God’s people, but to make matters worse, he also, through his own daughters, became the father of the enemies of the covenantal people of God. Sometimes the grass is not greener on the other side.

We now move to the second story for our consideration, that which details the blessing of Jacob (Gen 27). The story begins as follows:

1 When Isaac was old and his eyes were dim so that he could not see, he called Esau his older son, and said to him, “My son”; and he answered, “Here I am.” 2 He said, “Behold, I am old; I do not know the day of my death. 3 Now then, take your weapons, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field, and hunt game for me, 4 and prepare for me savory food, such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat; that I may bless you before I die” (Gen 27:1-4).

The narrator then tells of a quick turn in the plot. Rebecca happened to be listening in and so as soon as Esau went out she began to make plans with Jacob to steal Esau’s first-born blessing. Then Jacob disguised himself by dressing in his older brother’s clothes and brought in a feast for his father:

18 So he went in to his father, and said, “My father”; and he said, “Here I am; who are you, my son?” 19 Jacob said to his father, “I am Esau your first-born. I have done as you told me; now sit up and eat of my game, that you may bless me.” 20 But Isaac said to his son, “How is it that you have found it so quickly, my son?” He answered, “Because the LORD your God granted me success.” 21 Then Isaac said to Jacob, “Come near, that I may feel you, my son, to know whether you are really my son Esau or not.” 22 So Jacob went near to Isaac his father, who felt him and said, “The voice is Jacob’s voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” 23 And he did not recognize him, because his hands were hairy like his brother Esau’s hands; so he blessed him. 24 He said, “Are you really my son Esau?” He answered, “I am.” 25 Then he said, “Bring it to me, that I may eat of my son’s game and bless you.” So he brought it to him, and he ate; and he brought him wine, and he drank (Gen 27:18-25).

The audience should be appalled by the story for a number of reasons. First, Jacob has clearly lied to his father and taken advantage of him in his blindness and old age. Second, in order to convince his father of the lie Jacob used the name of the LORD (19:20). Third, he was given three opportunities to repent in the three questions that his father asked him and three times he chose to continue in his deceit.

In the next episode the narrator tells of Esau’s return with his freshly prepared meal for his father (27:30), and being questioned about his identity, declares, “I am your son, your first-born…” (27:33). When Esau realizes what his younger brother had done he says, “Is he not rightly called Jacob? For he has Jacobed me these two times. He took away my birthright; and behold, now he has taken away my blessing” (27:36).² The condemnation of Jacob is clear in Isaac’s response, “Your brother came with guile, and he has taken away your blessing” (27:35).

What is the modern reader of Genesis to do with this story? There does not appear to be any consequences for Jacob’s actions. Should one conclude that God had a different standard by which he judged the patriarchs? Obviously not, and if the reader is patient, this will become quite obvious later in the story.

Shortly after this episode we find Jacob in a far away land tending sheep for his uncle Laban (Gen 29). Laban asks Jacob to name a wage for his labors (29:15). The name he enunciates is Rachel. Jacob had his eyes on her since his arrival and now he works out a deal with Laban. For seven years he will work for his uncle and after seven years he will receive Rachel as his wife. The number seven appears often in covenantal narratives because of the play between the number “seven” (seba‘) and the verb “to swear” (saba‘), both being derived from the same Hebrew root.

When the seven years were completed, Jacob asked Laban for Rachel (29:21). Laban threw a feast to celebrate the event (29:22). Everything seems to be going well for Jacob. But then the narrator tells the audience some inside information. In the evening after much feasting Laban brought his daughter to Jacob. Only not the one for which Jacob had contracted with Laban. As the narrator humorously exclaims, “in the morning, behold, it was Leah…” (29:25).

How could this happen? Well, it is obvious that many things are different today than they were back then, especially regarding marriage ceremony. In the ancient near-east, a woman began to wear a veil on her wedding day. From that day forward whenever in public she would veil herself (and often as in this case, her face as well). It was a sign to all that she was married, set-apart (holy), and thus unavailable (see also Gen 24:65 and 1 Cor 11:1-16). The veil functioned in many ways in an analogous manner to the wedding ring in modern culture, and a remnant of this veiling practice is still seen in the modern western wedding ceremony where a new bride wears a veil (traditionally covering the face) during the wedding service.

The story in Genesis continues with a confrontational exchange between Jacob and Laban in which Jacob asks a question: “Why then have you deceived me?” (27:25). Laban’s answer tells all: “It is not so done in our country, to give the younger before the first-born” (27:26).

In the previous narrative, when Jacob was in his own country he offered a feast to his father and, having tricked him by taking advantage of his inability to see, stole the blessing that belonged to his first-born brother Esau. Now Jacob, in a far away country, after a feast provided by his father-in-law, is tricked into giving to the first-born Leah that which belonged to her, the right to be married off before her younger sister. There Jacob the younger used his first-born brother’s clothing to trick his blind father, here the father-in-law tricks Jacob by disguising the first-born Leah with the marital garb of her younger sister. What is the moral to the story? A person reaps what he sows.

The third and final story for our consideration in this study is the last major narrative unit of the book of Genesis, that which is usually called the Joseph cycle. It begins with a story about the sons of Jacob selling Joseph into slavery (Gen 37). Echoes of the previous narrative can still be heard as the audience is told how Jacob’s sons deceived him with the clothing of his favorite son (37:31-33):

29 When Reuben returned to the pit and saw that Joseph was not in the pit, he rent his clothes 30 and returned to his brothers, and said, “The lad is gone; and I, where shall I go?” 31 Then they took Joseph’s robe, and killed a goat, and dipped the robe in the blood; 32 and they sent the long robe with sleeves and brought it to their father, and said, “This we have found; see now whether it is your son’s robe or not.” 33 And he recognized it, and said, “It is my son’s robe; a wild beast has devoured him; Joseph is without doubt torn to pieces.” 34 Then Jacob rent his garments, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days. 35 All his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted, and said, “No, I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning.” Thus his father wept for him. 36 Meanwhile the Midianites had sold him in Egypt to Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh, the captain of the guard (Gen 37:29-36).

Jacob is still reaping what he sowed, but what happened to these brothers of Joseph? As in the two previous stories we have examined in this study, it appears here also that there are no consequences for having sold their brother into slavery in Egypt. Should the modern reader conclude that God had different standards back then? Obviously not.

The rest of this long narrative cycle tells the well-known story about famine in the region, the many trips of the sons of Israel into Egypt to buy grain, how Joseph reveals his identity to his brothers, and that he eventually invites his brothers and father to move to Egypt. Shortly thereafter Jacob dies, then Joseph as well, and the book of Genesis comes to a close. What happened to the brothers? When do they suffer the consequences of having sold their little brother Joseph into slavery in Egypt? The answer comes when one turns the page and begins to read the book of Exodus. There the reader sees the conclusion to the Joseph narrative as the sons of the sons of Jacob, the descendents of those who sold their brother into slavery, are now in slavery themselves. There were consequences for selling Joseph into slavery, indeed, about four hundred years worth. As it will be stated later in the book of Exodus:

6 The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, 7 keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation (Exod 34:6-7).

When the modern reader of the Bible encounters the book of Genesis, puzzling problems arise on almost every page. One of the most significant and common is the apparent lack of consequences for the iniquitous actions of the patriarchs. What is actually lacking, however, is recognition of a major theme of the book, namely, that you reap what you sow. In order to illustrate this point we examined three well known stories, Lot in the city of Sodom (Gen 19), the blessing of Jacob by Isaac (Gen 27), and the selling of Joseph into slavery (Gen 37). It has been demonstrated that the book does show that there are consequences for ones actions, but it is usually evident only later in the narrative.

If we patiently allow the narrator to tell the story and pay close attention to the details all the way to the end, then great treasures and a bountiful harvest awaits us. For, although the polished picture of the patriarchs in our children’s bibles and church hymnals might inspire us with awe for these monumental figures of salvation history, it is in the unpolished picture in the book of Genesis that we can often see a dim reflection of ourselves and thus learn something about our own journey and struggle as we learn to walk with the God of Abraham.

“Reaping what you Sow” is a major theme of the book of Genesis, and in fact, a major theme in the rest of the books of the Old and New Testaments. When we recognize this theme in Genesis our appreciation of this great book, and in fact the rest of the Bible, will be immeasurably improved and our personal harvest of its biblical wisdom will be beyond measure. Let us, therefore, sow some careful reading that we may reap a great bounty.