The Appointed Meeting: A Picture of Our Comfort Text: Genesis 24:62-67
Introduction: Divine Providence and Human Piety
We live in an age that despises divine orchestration. Our generation is allergic to the idea that our lives are anything other than a series of autonomous choices, random events, and self-created meanings. The modern man wants to be the author, director, and lead actor in his own story. The result of this is not the grand freedom he imagines, but rather a profound and crippling anxiety. If everything depends on you, then every failure is entirely your fault, and every success is a fleeting accident you might not be able to replicate. It is a terrible way to live.
The story of the patriarchs, and particularly this chapter in Genesis, is a direct assault on that entire worldview. Genesis 24 is one of the clearest biblical demonstrations of the meticulous providence of God. Abraham, a man of faith, gives his servant a solemn charge, rooted in covenant faithfulness. The servant, a man of prayer, asks for a specific sign from God, and God answers him down to the last detail before he is even finished speaking. And now, at the culmination of this long journey, we see the two central parties, Isaac and Rebekah, brought together, not by chance, but by the sovereign hand of the God who keeps His promises.
But notice that this is not a story of divine providence that renders human responsibility inert. This is not fatalism. Isaac is not sitting in his tent playing video games, waiting for a wife to be delivered by Amazon Prime. Rebekah is not a passive object being shipped from one location to another. What we see here is a beautiful interplay of God's absolute sovereignty and the faithful, pious actions of His people. God arranges the meeting, but Isaac goes out to meet his bride. God appoints the bride, but Rebekah must dismount and veil herself. God is the great playwright, but His actors are not wooden puppets. They are living, breathing saints, whose faithful actions are themselves a part of God's eternal decree. This story, then, is a profound encouragement to us. It teaches us that God is in absolute control of the most important details of our lives, and it shows us what faithful, godly character looks like as we walk within that providence.
This is not just a quaint historical romance. It is a living type, a foreshadowing of a greater romance. It is the story of the Son, waiting for His bride, and the bride being brought to Him from a distant country. It is a picture of Christ and His Church.
The Text
Now Isaac had come from going to Beer-lahai-roi, for he was living in the land of the Negev.
And Isaac went out to muse in the field toward evening; and he lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, camels were coming.
And Rebekah lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac and dismounted from the camel.
Then she said to the servant, "Who is that man walking in the field to meet us?" And the servant said, "He is my master." Then she took her veil and covered herself.
And the servant recounted to Isaac all the things that he had done.
Then Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah’s tent, and he took Rebekah, and she became his wife, and he loved her. Thus, Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.
(Genesis 24:62-67 LSB)
The Waiting Son (v. 62-63)
We begin with Isaac, the son of promise, waiting for the fulfillment of another promise.
"Now Isaac had come from going to Beer-lahai-roi, for he was living in the land of the Negev. And Isaac went out to muse in the field toward evening; and he lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, camels were coming." (Genesis 24:62-63)
The details of geography in Scripture are never incidental. Isaac is coming from Beer-lahai-roi, which means "The Well of the Living One Who Sees Me." This is the very place where Hagar, in her distress, was met by the Angel of the Lord (Genesis 16:14). It is a place associated with God's seeing and providing for those in need. Isaac, the son of promise, is dwelling near a place that testifies to the God who sees and provides. This is the context for his waiting.
And what is he doing? He "went out to muse in the field toward evening." The word for "muse" here can also be translated as to meditate or to pray. This is not idle daydreaming. This is not anxious pacing. This is the deliberate, thoughtful, prayerful activity of a man of God. Isaac, the heir of the covenant, is in the field, likely communing with the God of that covenant. He is contemplating the promises of God, the recent death of his mother, and the mission of his father's servant. This is a picture of masculine, spiritual headship. He is not passive; he is actively, prayerfully waiting on the Lord. He has entrusted the details to his father and to God, and now he prepares his own heart to receive the gift God is bringing.
It is toward evening, the time of transition, the close of a day. And as he lifts his eyes, he sees the answer to the prayers of his father, the servant, and no doubt his own. "Behold, camels were coming." The long journey is over. The providence of God has arrived at the appointed time. This is a picture for us. The Son of God, our Lord Jesus, waits for His bride. He has sent His Spirit into the world to gather His people, and He waits with perfect, prayerful expectation for that work to be completed. And we, the church, are that caravan on the horizon.
The Respectful Bride (v. 64-65)
Now the perspective shifts to Rebekah, and her actions are dense with theological meaning.
"And Rebekah lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac and dismounted from the camel. Then she said to the servant, 'Who is that man walking in the field to meet us?' And the servant said, 'He is my master.' Then she took her veil and covered herself." (Genesis 24:64-65 LSB)
Just as Isaac lifted his eyes and saw, Rebekah lifts her eyes and sees. Their eyes meet across the field, and her response is immediate and instructive. She "dismounted from the camel." In that culture, to remain seated on an animal while a superior was on foot was a sign of disrespect. Her dismounting is an act of humility and respect. She has never met this man, but she knows who he is in relation to her. He is her appointed husband, the head of her new household. Before a word is spoken, her actions demonstrate a submissive heart.
She asks the servant for confirmation: "Who is that man?" The servant's reply is simple and profound: "He is my master." This confirms Isaac's identity and his authority. He is the master, the lord of this household she is about to enter. And Rebekah's next action is the crucial one. "Then she took her veil and covered herself."
In our egalitarian age, this is seen as an act of oppression. But in the biblical worldview, it is an act of glory. The veil is a sign of authority, yes, but it is also a sign of glory. As Paul argues in 1 Corinthians 11, the woman is the glory of the man. By covering herself, Rebekah is not erasing her identity; she is signifying that her glory is now for her husband. She is setting herself apart for him. It is an act of modesty, humility, and profound covenantal recognition. She is publicly marking herself as belonging to him. This is the proper posture of the Church as she prepares to meet her Lord. We come to Him not flaunting our own righteousness, but covered in the righteousness He provides, acknowledging Him as our Master, and setting ourselves apart for His glory alone.
The Covenant Consummated (v. 66-67)
The scene concludes with the union of the two, the fulfillment of the mission, and the comfort that comes from God's faithfulness.
"And the servant recounted to Isaac all the things that he had done. Then Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah’s tent, and he took Rebekah, and she became his wife, and he loved her. Thus, Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death." (Genesis 24:66-67 LSB)
The servant gives his report. This is the joyful accounting of a faithful steward. He has completed his mission precisely as he was charged. This is a picture of the Holy Spirit, who does not speak on His own authority, but who testifies of the Son and who gathers the bride, and who will one day present that bride to the Son without spot or blemish.
Isaac's action is next. "He brought her into his mother Sarah's tent." This is far more than a practical matter of finding a place to live. Sarah was the matriarch of the covenant. Her tent was the heart of the household. For Rebekah to enter Sarah's tent is for her to formally and publicly take up Sarah's role. It is a transfer of matriarchal authority and responsibility. The covenant line will now continue through her. She is not just a wife; she is the new mother of the promised seed.
Then the union is stated with beautiful simplicity: "he took Rebekah, and she became his wife, and he loved her." In a world that believes love is a feeling that must precede commitment, the Bible often presents it in this order. Isaac takes her in covenant, and as a result of that covenant commitment, a deep and abiding love grows. This is not to say there was no affection before, but it establishes the principle that biblical love is not primarily a fickle emotion but a covenantal action. You act in love, and the feelings follow.
And the result? "Thus, Isaac was comforted after his mother's death." Sarah's death in chapter 23 created a void, a grief in the heart of the family and in the heart of Isaac. God, in His providence, does not just provide a wife to continue the covenant; He provides a comfort to heal a wound. Rebekah, in her new role, fills the void left by Sarah. This is a tender and beautiful conclusion. God's provision is never merely functional; it is always personal. He knows our griefs, and His grace is sufficient to provide the comfort we need.
Conclusion: The Comfort of Christ
This entire narrative is a glorious picture of God's work in our lives. Like Isaac, we are sons of promise, waiting in a world that is not our final home. We live near the well of the "Living One Who Sees Me," trusting that God knows our situation and is working all things for our good.
And like Isaac, we are waiting for a consummation. The Church, the bride of Christ, is being gathered from the far country of this fallen world. The Holy Spirit is the faithful servant, calling us, preparing us, and leading us on the journey home. And one day, toward the evening of this world's history, the Lord Jesus will lift up His eyes, and He will see His bride, the full number of the elect, coming toward Him.
Our duty in the meantime is to be like Rebekah. When we see our Lord, even from a distance, we are to adopt a posture of humility and respect. We are to cover ourselves, not in our own glory, but in the glorious righteousness He provides. We are to acknowledge Him as Master.
And what is the end of the story? The Son will bring His bride into His Father's house. He will take us to be His own, and He will love His church with an everlasting love. And in that final union, all the griefs of this life will be healed. The voids in our hearts, the sorrows left by death and sin, will be filled. Just as "Isaac was comforted," so shall we be comforted. This is the promise of the gospel, pictured for us so beautifully in an evening field in the land of the Negev. God sees, God provides, and God comforts.