Genesis 27:1-4

The Covenant in the Dark: Isaac's Misguided Blessing Text: Genesis 27:1-4

Introduction: A Dysfunctional Covenant Family

The story of redemption is not a sterile laboratory experiment. It is a story that God writes straight through the middle of our messes, our sins, and our profound dysfunctions. And there are few family messes in Scripture quite as tangled as the one we find here in Genesis 27. This is not a story for a Sunday School flannelgraph, at least not without some serious editing. We have a blind and aging patriarch, a carnal and favored son, a manipulative and determined mother, and a scheming, ambitious younger son. It is a domestic tragedy in the making, and yet, through all of it, God is sovereignly working His unassailable purpose to bring about the covenant promise.

We must resist the urge to moralize this story in a flat-footed way, as though the main point is simply "don't lie to your dad." The issues here are far deeper. They have to do with the nature of covenant, the power of the spoken word, the doctrine of election, and the way God's irresistible grace operates not just in spite of human sin, but often through it, bending our crooked actions to serve His straight purposes. God is not the author of sin, but He is the author of the story in which the sin occurs, and He writes better than we do.

Isaac is about to perform one of the most solemn duties of a patriarch: the formal bestowal of the covenant blessing. This is not just a sentimental deathbed wish. In the patriarchal economy, this spoken blessing was a testamentary and prophetic act. It was legally binding. It conveyed the headship of the family, the double portion of the inheritance, and most importantly, the custody of the Abrahamic promise, the promise of the Seed who would one day crush the serpent's head. And Isaac, driven by his fleshly appetites and his natural affections, is about to give it to the wrong man.

This chapter is a stark reminder that God's election is not based on human merit or human choice. God had already declared His purpose before the twins were even born. He told Rebekah, "The older shall serve the younger" (Gen. 25:23). But here we see Isaac, the carrier of the promise, actively working to subvert the revealed will of God. He is attempting to bless the man God had not chosen. This entire narrative unfolds because of Isaac's carnal disobedience. Everyone else's sin, Rebekah's and Jacob's, is a reaction to his initial failure.


The Text

Now it happened that when Isaac was old and his eyes were too dim to see, that he called his older son Esau and said to him, "My son." And he said to him, "Here I am."
And Isaac said, "Behold now, I am old, and I do not know the day of my death.
So now, please take up your gear, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field and hunt game for me;
and prepare a savory dish for me such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat, so that my soul may bless you before I die.
(Genesis 27:1-4 LSB)

The Blindness of the Patriarch (v. 1)

We begin with the setting of the stage, which is one of physical and spiritual decay.

"Now it happened that when Isaac was old and his eyes were too dim to see, that he called his older son Esau and said to him, 'My son.' And he said to him, 'Here I am.'" (Genesis 27:1)

The first thing Moses tells us is that Isaac was old and his eyes were dim. This is more than just a medical report. His physical blindness is a potent symbol of his spiritual blindness. He cannot see the character of his sons clearly, and more importantly, he cannot see the declared will of God. He is operating in the dark, both literally and figuratively. He is a man walking by sense, not by faith. His entire plan is based on what he can taste and touch, not on what God has said.

He calls for Esau, his "older son." This is the son of his natural affection, the son of the flesh. The text emphasizes this relationship. Isaac's love for Esau was rooted in carnal appetite: "Isaac loved Esau because he ate of his game" (Gen. 25:28). This is a pathetic reason for a patriarch to favor one son over another, especially when the covenant is at stake. He loved the venison, and so he loved the man who brought it. His stomach was leading his soul, and this is always the path to spiritual disaster.

Esau's response is respectful on the surface: "Here I am." He is the dutiful son, ready to serve his father's wishes. But we know who Esau is. He is a profane man, a fornicator, who despised his birthright and sold it for a bowl of soup (Heb. 12:16). He had married Hittite women, which were a "grief of mind" to both Isaac and Rebekah (Gen. 26:35). He was a man of the field, a man of the world, utterly unfit to carry the sacred covenant. Yet Isaac, blinded by his preference for savory meat, is determined to give him the one thing that mattered.


The Tyranny of the Urgent (v. 2)

Isaac explains the reason for his summons, and it reveals a man living in fear and self-occupation.

"And Isaac said, 'Behold now, I am old, and I do not know the day of my death.'" (Genesis 27:2 LSB)

Isaac feels the cold breath of mortality on his neck. Now, there is nothing wrong with preparing for one's death. But Isaac's motivation seems to be driven by a sense of panic, not pious preparation. He thinks his time is short. As it turns out, he will live for many more years after this episode, but his fear of imminent death is the catalyst for his foolish and disobedient plan.

He says, "I do not know the day of my death." This is true for all of us, and it ought to drive us to walk faithfully before God each day. For Isaac, however, it becomes the justification for taking matters into his own hands and rushing to do something that God did not want done. He wants to settle his affairs on his own terms, according to his own appetites, before his time runs out. He is not seeking counsel from God, nor is he consulting with his wife, who had actually received the prophecy about the two boys. This is a unilateral decision, conceived in darkness and driven by carnal fear.


A Blessing Conditioned on Venison (v. 3)

Here we see the sad reduction of a holy ordinance to a transaction based on sensual gratification.

"So now, please take up your gear, your quiver and your bow, and go out to the field and hunt game for me;" (Genesis 27:3 LSB)

Isaac's instructions are specific. He wants Esau to be Esau. Go be the mighty hunter, the man of the outdoors. Go do the thing that makes me love you. The blessing of the covenant of grace is about to be tied to a work of the flesh. "Go hunt, and then I will bless." This is the essence of legalism. It is an attempt to secure God's favor through human performance. Isaac is treating the blessing not as a gift to be stewarded according to God's direction, but as a wage to be paid for services rendered.

He is asking Esau to demonstrate his prowess, his strength, his ability to provide. These are all things the world values. But they are not the things God values for the covenant line. God consistently chooses the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose Abram the idolater, not a king. He chose Isaac, the son of promise, not Ishmael, the son of the flesh. And He had already chosen Jacob, the quiet tent-dweller, not Esau, the rugged hunter. Isaac is trying to reverse God's established pattern. He is trying to make the covenant conform to the world's standards of strength and success.


The Appetites of a Fallen Man (v. 4)

The final verse in our section lays bare the heart of the matter. The whole affair hinges on a meal.

"and prepare a savory dish for me such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat, so that my soul may bless you before I die." (Genesis 27:4 LSB)

Notice the repetition of the first person pronoun. "For me... such as I love... bring it to me... that I may eat... that my soul may bless you." This is all about Isaac. His desires, his love, his appetite, his blessing. He has made himself the center of this sacred transaction. The glory of God and the future of the redemptive line have been subordinated to his desire for a particular kind of food.

He says, "...so that my soul may bless you." The word for soul here is nephesh. It refers to his whole being, his life force. He is saying that the meal will stir up his affections, put him in the right frame of mind, and empower him to give the blessing with gusto. He needs his favorite meal to get his soul in a "blessing mood." This is a profound trivialization of a holy duty. The power of the patriarchal blessing came from God, not from a well-spiced stew. Isaac is looking for inspiration in his belly instead of in the promises of God.

This is a picture of man-centered religion. It is about creating an atmosphere, stirring up emotions, and feeling good so that we can perform our religious duties. It is about what pleases us, what we love, what satisfies our tastes. True worship, true obedience, is not about what we love, but about what God has commanded. Isaac had a command from God regarding his sons, and he was ignoring it in favor of a meal that he loved. He was willing to trade the divine oracle for a bowl of venison, which shows that he was, in this moment, a true father to Esau, who traded his own birthright for a bowl of lentils.


Conclusion: God's Unstoppable Grace

This is a sordid beginning to a sordid story. Every member of this family is operating in the flesh. Isaac is driven by his gut. Esau is driven by his pride. And as we will see, Rebekah and Jacob will be driven by deceit and ambition. There are no heroes here. And that is precisely the point. The hero of this story is God.

God's covenant purpose does not depend on the moral perfection of the people involved. If it did, the covenant would have died with Adam. God's promise moves forward, relentlessly, sovereignly, right through the middle of this domestic battlefield. He will get the blessing to the right man, Jacob, even if it takes the misguided intentions of a blind father and the sinful deception of a mother and son to get it there.

This should be a profound comfort to us. Our families are messy. Our hearts are messy. We, like Isaac, are often blind. We are prone to favor the flashy and worldly Esaus over the quiet and less impressive Jacobs. We are prone to let our appetites dictate our spiritual decisions. But our failures are not ultimate. God's purpose is. He is able to take our sins, our blunders, and our blind spots and weave them into the tapestry of His perfect plan.

The blessing will go to Jacob. And from Jacob will come the twelve tribes. And from the tribe of Judah will come King David. And from the line of David, in the fullness of time, will come the Lord Jesus Christ, the true Seed of Abraham. God was protecting the bloodline of the Messiah, and He was not going to let a blind man's craving for venison get in the way. He is the hero, and His grace is the theme. And because He is God, His will, and not ours, shall be done.