The place of Laban

וַיַּשְׁכֵּ֨ם לָבָ֜ן בַּבֹּ֗קֶר וַיְנַשֵּׁ֧ק לְבָנָ֛יו וְלִבְנוֹתָ֖יו וַיְבָ֣רֶךְ אֶתְהֶ֑ם וַיֵּ֛לֶךְ וַיָּ֥שׇׁב לָבָ֖ן לִמְקֹמֽוֹ׃

Early in the morning, Laban kissed his sons and daughters and bade them good-by; then Laban left on his journey homeward.
Genesis 32:1 (The Contemporary Torah, JPS 2006)

Note: In the Hebrew bibles, Genesis 32:1 is the same as Genesis 31:55 in English bibles.

In this passage, the commentators point out that the phrase at the end is a little unusual. Laban didn’t just “go home.” He “returned to his place.” And this phrase, according to the Haamek Davar, this “… foreshadowed the ascendance and subsequent decline of all the nations that hosted and then expelled the Jewish people.”

In the interpretation that views Laban as a symbol of wickedness, likening him to Egypt and other conquering nations, Laban appears to slink back into the depths, as though he is brought up for this purpose, and then returns to his right place of lowness.

This concept of “place” is very interesting, because it makes me think of the Jewish teaching about God calling to Adam. When God says “Ayeka,” (where are you?), God is not asking a question. God is making a declaration, stating that Adam is not where he is supposed to be; he is not where God placed him. This can be viewed as a statement about the relationship, not Adam’s specific GPS coordinates.

This tells me that there *IS* a place where we are meant to be in our relationship to God. If God walks through the garden, we are meant to walk with God, and not hide in the bushes.

But Laban? And the empires that enslave God’s people, rooted back to the original hissing trickster that enticed and enslaved us all? Perhaps “returned to his place” describes a place of outer darkness, where one day he will remain separated from us forever.

It’s after Laban “returns to his place” that Jacob goes on his way, and is met by God, and where Jacob declares, “This is God’s camp.”
Here, perhaps we see a glimpse into the Kingdom, where our lived reality and heavenly truth come together in a living parable.

The Parable of the Adversary

יֶשׁ־לְאֵ֣ל יָדִ֔י לַעֲשׂ֥וֹת עִמָּכֶ֖ם רָ֑ע וֵֽאלֹהֵ֨י אֲבִיכֶ֜ם אֶ֣מֶשׁ ׀ אָמַ֧ר אֵלַ֣י לֵאמֹ֗ר הִשָּׁ֧מֶר לְךָ֛ מִדַּבֵּ֥ר עִֽם־יַעֲקֹ֖ב מִטּ֥וֹב עַד־רָֽע׃
I have it in my power to do you harm; but the God of your father’s [house] said to me last night, ‘Beware of attempting anything with Jacob, good or bad.’
Genesis 31:29 (The Contemporary Torah, JPS 2006)

If Genesis is understood like a series of parables, perhaps Genesis 31:29 is teaching us about the nature of the Adversary.

The Third Day

On the third day Laban was told that Jacob had fled. Taking his relatives with him, he pursued Jacob for seven days and caught up with him in the hill country of Gilead. Then God came to Laban the Aramean in a dream at night and said to him, “Be careful not to say anything to Jacob, either good or bad.
Genesis 31:22-24 (NIV)

If we allow Genesis to inform our theology, and we frame Jacob’s deliverance of the sheep and the goats to stand in as a parable about God delivering his people, what do you suppose this passage is telling us?

It seems important.

The God of the Barren

Jacob was incensed at Rachel, and said, “Can I take the place of God, who has denied you fruit of the womb?”
Genesis 30:2 (The Contemporary Torah, JPS 2006)

I think this passage is meant to help us learn how to properly frame the unfortunate circumstance of barrenness, and to understand what prayer is supposed to do. Is Jacob speaking correctly here? Has God “denied” Rachel fruit of the womb?

When we pray to have children, are we praying that God overcomes some kind of problem in the world (our barrenness), and that God may choose to heal us or not? Or are we praying that God undoes what God is also in control over? Ie., “God, you have made me barren. Please make me fruitful instead.”

The way we view “barrenness” here directly impacts how we view a God who addresses it.
In the first view (barrenness is a condition of the world, and God may/may-not heal us), the personality of God is one who sees a problem that happened to you, and in God’s infinite wisdom may choose to rescue or not. And if not, our unheard prayers might feel like God either does not care or does not exist. Or perhaps we’re not praying hard enough.

In the second view, where God has closed the womb and caused the barrenness, the view of God is different. We desire a child, and God has said no, or not-yet. And in this setting, we can get mad at God because we don’t like the answer, and this is very different than being let down because God cannot hear us, or because we need to pray more faithfully.

This is different than prayers of healing for someone who is dying, or praying for respite from crushing poverty or war. Those are “bad things” from which we cry out to be rescued. Yes, God created the darkness and the light; God created Ra (evil) and Tov (good). But “rescue” is a different topic.
Praying for release from barrenness is… something else. It’s a reflection of our desire to live into God’s promise of “be fruitful and multiply.”

So when Jacob declares that it is God who closed Rachel’s womb, I think the text is giving us a theological axiom: we can’t be fruitful on our own. A branch must be connected to the vine to bear fruit, and it will not bear fruit any earlier than that.

But also, branches will bear fruit when connected to the vine. This is a promise: we will be fruitful and multiply.

Obviously, this is spiritual talk. I’m not saying everyone who wants a baby will have a baby. We are being told a physical story to understand a spiritual principle.
Notably, this is the THIRD time we’ve been told this same story. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob each have wives who start out barren. Sarah, Rebekah, and Rachel each are longing for the promise.

Perhaps closeness to God is tied to that same longing. Perhaps the “no; not-yet” is a parable of our lived experience.

Jacob’s Ladder

וַֽיַּחֲלֹ֗ם וְהִנֵּ֤ה סֻלָּם֙ מֻצָּ֣ב אַ֔רְצָה וְרֹאשׁ֖וֹ מַגִּ֣יעַ הַשָּׁמָ֑יְמָה וְהִנֵּה֙ מַלְאֲכֵ֣י אֱלֹהִ֔ים עֹלִ֥ים וְיֹרְדִ֖ים בּֽוֹ׃

He had a dream; a stairway was set on the ground and its top reached to the sky, and messengers of God were going up and down on it.
Genesis 28:12 (The Contemporary Torah, JPS 2006)

There is a fascinating rabbinical thought about this passage in Genesis 28. It notes that the angels are described as going UP, and then going DOWN, and not the other way around.

These angels live on earth. They go up “to heaven” and then return to their assigned abode.

The imagery tells us that the angels get their assignments from God and carry them out on earth. They go up the ladder to report what they have seen, and then come back down to execute God’s commands.

It is a dream. It is meant to be seen like a parable.

Remember: “angels” is “malakim,” or “messengers.” A messenger is a deliverer of God’s message. Sometimes the message is through words; sometimes it is through action. The message is God’s will and purpose.

“Jacob’s Ladder” is a visual representation of “Your Kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.

God of Heaven and Earth

Abraham said to his servant, the oldest of his household who was in charge of all that he owned, “Please place your hand under my thigh, and I will make you swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and the God of earth, that you shall not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, among whom I live.
Genesis 24:2-3 (NASB)

For the first time in Scripture, we see this phrase: “the God of heaven and the God of earth.”

The rabbis note that Abraham says this while in the Promised Land, but never says it while in Egypt or in Haran. Perhaps it’s a statement about the Holy Land. It is specially designated as God’s special place.

But there is a hint of divine parable in the phrase. In Genesis 1, God “created the heavens and the earth,” so we understand that God made them… together. To be together, like a man and his wife.

This chapter is about marriage and covenant, and how God establishes a union over an impossible distance.

The Righteous

There’s a teaching in Christianity that says “none are righteous,” and it’s pulled from Romans 3, which quotes from either Psalm 14 or Psalm 53 (they’re almost identical).

The thing is… the scriptures refer to people being “righteous” all the time.

Noah, Abraham, David… and though Jesus spoke Aramaic, our bibles record this greek word δίκαιος (dikaios) to describe “righteous Abel” in Matthew 23:35, and it’s the same word that Paul uses in Romans 3.

What are we supposed to learn from this?

For starters, this seems to provide pushback against “I’m-a-worthless-worm” theology, unless there’s some odd subclass of “righteous-worm” that’s hidden in the text.

And actually, if you go back and read the Psalms mentioned above, you’ll notice something important.

But there they are, overwhelmed with dread,
for God is present in the company of the righteous.
You evildoers frustrate the plans of the poor,
but the Lord is their refuge.
Psalm 14:5-6 (NIV)

David doesn’t say that “nobody is righteous.” He’s identifying a corrupt and wicked people, and they are distinct from the righteous people who are identified in Psalm 14:5-6.

Psalm 14:4 calls the wicked people “workers of injustice,” and when you read Psalm 14 in the context of the wickedness of Genesis 6 and Genesis 18, you’ll start to see parallels. There’s a description of a growing tide of wickedness and oppression that covers everything.

In the case of the Psalm, David is obviously not including himself in the definition of the wicked fools who say “there is no god.”

Likewise, though “the whole world is wicked” in Genesis 6, Noah is singled out. In the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot is singled out.

There’s a rabbinical teaching that says “a single righteous person could save the rest of the world,” and I think this can be derived from seeing that in the case of the flood, Noah was hidden away, leaving none. In the case of Sodom, Lot was led away, leaving none.

When Abraham asks if God would spare the cities for the sake of 10 righteous people, I think the teaching is that God would have spared the cities if there was even one who remained. Removing Lot brought the number of righteous people down to zero.

Perhaps this understanding informs the parable of the Wheat/Weeds in Matthew 13:24-30. God won’t tear out the weeds and destroy the wicked so long as there is even a single stalk of wheat growing in it.

In the Psalm, David calls these wicked people “fools” who say in their hearts, “there is no god.”

David isn’t making a statement about atheists. The description of the “fools” here are the specifically wicked who commit injustice, devour God’s people, and afflict the poor.

This absolutely (and specifically) includes people who loudly proclaim God’s laws and the existence of God, but who believe *in their hearts* that there is no God. This is hypocricy. And this is precisely what Paul was talking about in Romans 2. That’s the whole context!

Now, before we get too comfortable with drawing lines around the righteous and the wicked, I suspect that Jesus is saying something very particular when He warns against calling anyone a “fool.”

But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.
Matthew 5:22 (NIV)

All this to say, I don’t believe Paul is teaching us to never consider anyone “righteous.” We have plenty of examples of righteous people in the Bible who serve as examples of faithfulness, and as examples of God’s faithfulness in them.

Be blessed!

400

Now when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and behold, terror and great darkness fell upon him. Then God said to Abram, “Know for certain that your descendants will be strangers in a land that is not theirs, where they will be enslaved and oppressed for four hundred years. But I will also judge the nation whom they will serve, and afterward they will come out with many possessions.
Genesis 15:12-14 (NASB)

Genesis 15:12-14 echoes Genesis 1:1-3.

The number 400 is represented by the Hebrew letter “tav,” which is the final letter in the Hebrew alphabet. It points to a finality; perhaps captivity in Egypt is a picture of something larger.

It is the past. It is the future. It is now.