The Kingdom of Impatience Text: Genesis 36:31-39
Introduction: Two Lines, Two Destinies
There are certain passages in Scripture that modern readers, particularly those with a low appetite for detail, are tempted to skim. Long lists of names, genealogies, and census data can seem to our ears like the biblical equivalent of reading the phone book. But this is a profound mistake. When the Holy Spirit includes a list in the sacred text, it is never filler. It is never there to meet a word count. Every name, every sequence, every historical footnote is freighted with theological significance. These lists are the inspired scaffolding of redemptive history.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in Genesis 36, the chronicles of Esau, who is Edom. This entire chapter is dedicated to the line of the son who was rejected, the brother who sold his birthright for a bowl of lentil stew. And right here, at the end of the chapter, we get this list of kings. At first glance, it seems like a dry, dusty record from a forgotten kingdom. But look closer. This is a polemic. This is a carefully crafted theological statement about the nature of two kingdoms, two peoples, and two destinies, all flowing from the sovereign choice of God in the womb of Rebekah. "Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated" (Romans 9:13).
This list of Edomite kings is a portrait of the kingdom of man in its full, earthly glory. It is the kingdom of the flesh, the kingdom of impatience. Esau’s descendants get everything first. They get land, they get dukes, and as our text shows, they get kings. They build cities. They win battles. They establish a monarchy. They have all the visible, tangible markers of success and prosperity. Meanwhile, where are the sons of Jacob, the sons of the promise? They are about to be slaves in Egypt. They have no king, no land, no crown. They have nothing but a promise from God.
This passage is a test of faith for the original readers, the children of Israel wandering in the wilderness. As they look across the border at the established, powerful nation of Edom, they are meant to ask themselves: which kingdom do you want? The one you can see, the one with kings and armies and cities? Or the one God has promised, the one that is not yet? This is the fundamental choice that confronts every generation. Do you want the stew now, or the birthright later? Do you want a king like the nations, or do you want to wait for the King that God will provide? This list of dead kings is a monument to the fleeting glory of the world, set in sharp contrast to the slow, patient, and unstoppable unfolding of God's covenant with His people.
The Text
Now these are the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king of the sons of Israel reigned. And Bela the son of Beor became king in Edom, and the name of his city was Dinhabah. Then Bela died, and Jobab the son of Zerah of Bozrah became king in his place. Then Jobab died, and Husham of the land of the Temanites became king in his place. Then Husham died, and Hadad the son of Bedad, who struck down Midian in the field of Moab, became king in his place; and the name of his city was Avith. Then Hadad died, and Samlah of Masrekah became king in his place. Then Samlah died, and Shaul of Rehoboth on the River became king in his place. Then Shaul died, and Baal-hanan the son of Achbor became king in his place. Then Baal-hanan the son of Achbor died, and Hadar became king in his place; and the name of his city was Pau; and his wife’s name was Mehetabel, the daughter of Matred, daughter of Mezahab.
(Genesis 36:31-39 LSB)
The Premature Crown (v. 31)
The entire passage is framed by the opening statement, which sets up the central contrast.
"Now these are the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king of the sons of Israel reigned." (Genesis 36:31)
This is the key that unlocks the meaning of the list. It is a statement of chronological fact, but it is dripping with theological irony. Edom gets there first. The line of Esau, the profane man who despised his birthright, is the first to achieve the pinnacle of worldly political structure: a monarchy. This would have been a sharp and perhaps painful observation for Israel. God had promised Abraham and Jacob that kings would come from their line (Genesis 17:6; 35:11), but here is Edom, already on their eighth king, and Israel is still a collection of tribes with no central ruler.
This verse forces the reader to grapple with the nature of God's timing. The kingdom of man always grows faster than the kingdom of God. Cain builds a city long before the people of God have one. The tower of Babel is built by men in a hurry to make a name for themselves. Edom gets its kings. The world always seems to be winning. It has the institutions, the power, the prestige. It builds with brick and mortar, while the people of God are often living in tents, holding onto a promise.
But this "before" is also a promise. It implies a "later." There will be a king in Israel. The very structure of the sentence points forward to the coming of a king for the covenant people. Moses, the author of this passage, knew this. He himself was a type of king, a ruler in Jeshurun (Deut. 33:5), and he gave Israel the law for their future kings (Deut. 17:14-20). This verse is a subtle encouragement to patience. It tells Israel, "Do not envy the Edomites. Do not be dismayed by their apparent success. Their kingdom is the kingdom of 'before.' Yours is the kingdom of 'after,' the one that will last." The first shall be last, and the last shall be first.
A Procession of Death (v. 32-39a)
The list itself is a stark, rhythmic account of temporary power and inevitable decay.
"And Bela the son of Beor became king... Then Bela died... and Jobab... became king... Then Jobab died... and Husham... became king... Then Husham died..." (Genesis 36:32-35)
And so it goes, on and on. The literary structure is simple and repetitive, and its effect is powerful. A man rises to power. He reigns from his city, Dinhabah or Bozrah or Avith. He might even have a notable accomplishment, like Hadad who "struck down Midian in the field of Moab." He has his moment on the stage. And then the refrain comes, like a tolling bell: "and he died."
This is the biography of all worldly power when it is detached from the covenant of God. It is a series of replacements. It is a history of death. Notice what is absent from this list. There is no dynastic succession. The son does not succeed the father. Each king is from a different family, a different city. This suggests a kingdom built on raw power or perhaps some form of election, but it is not a kingdom built on covenantal inheritance. It has no future baked into its structure. It is a series of impressive but disconnected moments, each one ending in a grave.
This is a picture of history under the curse. Man strives, he builds, he conquers, he reigns, and then he dies. His kingdom passes to another, who will also die. This is the vanity that the Preacher in Ecclesiastes speaks of. It is the story of all empires, all presidents, all CEOs, all celebrities. They have their reign, and then they are gone, and the world moves on. The kings of Edom are the poster children for a history that goes nowhere. It is a wheel that turns and turns, but it is not attached to a chariot going to a destination.
A Different Kind of Kingdom (v. 39b)
The list concludes with the eighth king, and for the first time, the pattern is broken.
"Then Baal-hanan the son of Achbor died, and Hadar became king in his place; and the name of his city was Pau; and his wife’s name was Mehetabel, the daughter of Matred, daughter of Mezahab." (Genesis 36:39)
What is missing? The refrain. The text does not say, "and Hadar died." He is the last king on the list, and his death is not recorded. This is likely because he was the reigning king at the time Moses was writing. His story was not yet over. But this abrupt stop serves a literary purpose. It leaves the kingdom of Edom hanging, its final chapter unwritten, but with the clear implication that it will end just like all the others.
But there is another detail here, added for the first time. We are told the name of the king's wife, and even her lineage. "His wife’s name was Mehetabel, the daughter of Matred, daughter of Mezahab." Why, after a list of men who died, does the Spirit see fit to include this matriarchal line? It is a subtle hint, a pointer. The Bible is intensely interested in lineage, in wives and mothers, because this is how the covenant promise is transmitted. The seed of the woman (Gen. 3:15) comes through a specific line of women: Sarah, Rebekah, Leah, Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Mary.
The inclusion of Mehetabel here at the end is a flash of contrast. Edom's history is a history of kings who die. Israel's history, which is about to unfold, will be the history of a covenant family, passed down from father to son, through faithful and sometimes very flawed women, all leading to the one King who will not die. The kingdom of Edom is defined by a succession of dead men. The kingdom of Israel will be defined by a covenantal succession that culminates in a living man, a King who conquers death.
Conclusion: The King Who Does Not Die
So what is the point of this ancient list of foreign kings? The point is to make us long for a better King and a better Kingdom. The story of Edom is the story of the world. It is the best that man can do on his own. He can build cities, win battles, and establish monarchies. He can create what looks like stability and power. But at the end of every reign is a funeral. At the end of every human enterprise is a grave.
The children of Israel were tempted to envy Edom, just as we are tempted to envy the world. The world has its kings, its celebrities, its powerful institutions, its impressive accomplishments. And we, the church, can often feel like a ragtag bunch of nomads in the wilderness, holding onto nothing but a promise. We don't have a king yet, not one we can see. We are waiting.
But this passage reminds us that our waiting is not in vain. The kingdom of Edom is the kingdom of "before." It is the kingdom of "and then he died." It is a type of the first Adam, whose reign always ends in death. But the promise to Jacob, the promise to Israel, was for a King from the line of Judah who would have an eternal throne. The promise was for a second Adam.
This is the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the King who came "after." He is the King who did not come from a succession of disconnected rulers, but from a long, patient, covenantal line, traced meticulously for us in the genealogies of Matthew and Luke. He is the King who established His kingdom not by striking down Midian, but by being struck down for us. And He is the one King of whom the text will never say, "and then He died" as a final word. It says, "He died," yes, but three days later it says, "He is risen."
The refrain of Edom is "he reigned, and he died." The refrain of the gospel is "He died, and He reigns." He reigns forever. His kingdom has no end. Therefore, do not envy the fleeting glories of Edom. Do not trade your birthright for the stew of worldly success. The kings of this world are a procession of pallbearers. But our King has conquered the grave, and He is the King of an eternal kingdom, and we are His people. The promise is better than the stew, and the King who is coming is infinitely greater than all the kings who have gone.