Bird's-eye view
In these closing verses of Genesis 47, we see the covenant people of God flourishing in a foreign land, a direct fulfillment of God's promise to be fruitful and multiply. This prosperity in Goshen, however, is not the final goal. The central action of the passage is Jacob, now on his deathbed, securing a solemn oath from his powerful son Joseph. This is not merely a sentimental request, but a profound act of faith. Jacob, whose name is now Israel, insists on being buried not in the comfort and glory of Egypt, but in the humble cave of Machpelah in Canaan. This act is a tangible declaration that his true identity, and the identity of his people, is tied to the promise of God, not the provisions of men. The passage concludes with an act of worship, demonstrating that a life of faith ends not in fear, but in adoration of the God who keeps His promises.
This section serves as a crucial bridge. It shows God's faithfulness in the present (the fruitfulness in Goshen) while simultaneously directing the faith of His people toward the future (the burial in Canaan). It is a testament to living as pilgrims and sojourners, whose ultimate hope is not in the land of their temporary residence, but in the city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God.
Outline
- 1. Covenant Blessing in a Foreign Land (v. 27)
- a. Israel Settled in Goshen (v. 27a)
- b. Israel Possessing and Multiplying (v. 27b)
- 2. The Sum of a Patriarch's Life (v. 28)
- a. Seventeen Years of Peace (v. 28a)
- b. A Full Life of 147 Years (v. 28b)
- 3. A Dying Saint's Solemn Request (vv. 29-31)
- a. The Approach of Death and a Summons (v. 29a)
- b. The Oath Under the Thigh (v. 29b)
- c. The Substance of the Oath: Not Egypt, but Canaan (vv. 29c-30)
- d. The Oath Confirmed and Worship Offered (v. 31)
Commentary
27 Now Israel lived in the land of Egypt, in Goshen, and they took possession of property in it and were fruitful and became very numerous.
The first thing to notice is that God's people are designated as "Israel." This is the covenant name. They are living in Egypt, the premier world power, but they are not Egyptians. They are a distinct people, settled in Goshen, a fertile region set apart for them. Even in exile, God provides a place for His people. While they are guests in the land, they "took possession of property in it." This is a foretaste of the dominion they are promised. God's people are not meant to be rootless mystics; they are to sink roots, build, and own. This is a seed of the kingdom. And the result is that they "were fruitful and became very numerous." This is a direct, verbatim echo of the creation mandate given to Adam (Gen. 1:28) and the foundational promise given to Abraham (Gen. 17:6). God is keeping His word. The devil had tried to wipe out the line through famine, but God used the evil to bring about a greater good, and His people are multiplying under the nose of a foreign power. The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed; it grows in unexpected places.
28 And Jacob lived in the land of Egypt seventeen years; so the days of Jacob, the years of his life, were 147 years.
Scripture is economical, but it gives us this detail. Jacob lived in Egypt for seventeen years. This is a beautiful piece of providential symmetry. Joseph was seventeen when he was sold into slavery by his brothers, and his father mourned him for years. Now, at the end of his life, Jacob is given seventeen years of peace and restoration with that same son. God is a God who restores the years the locusts have eaten. The total years of his life are recorded, 147. This is not just a biographical detail. It reminds us that the patriarchs were real men who lived real lives in history. God's covenant is worked out through the lives, struggles, and years of actual people.
29 Then the days for Israel to die drew near, and he called his son Joseph and said to him, "Please, if I have found favor in your sight, place now your hand under my thigh and deal with me in lovingkindness and truth. Please do not bury me in Egypt."
Notice the shift again from "Jacob" to "Israel." When it is time to die, he is not just a frail old man; he is the patriarch of the covenant nation, and he is conducting official business. He knows his time is short, and a godly man prepares for his death. He summons Joseph, the son with the political clout to carry out his wishes. The request is couched in formal, respectful language, "if I have found favor in your sight." But the business is deadly serious. He asks Joseph to place his hand "under my thigh." This is the ancient form of a most solemn oath. The thigh is the source of life, of posterity. To swear on the thigh is to swear by the generations to come, by the covenant seed that God had promised. He is binding Joseph by the future of Israel. And what does he ask for? "Lovingkindness and truth," or hesed and emet. These are covenant terms, attributes of God Himself. Jacob is asking his son to act toward him with covenant faithfulness. The central request is stark: "Do not bury me in Egypt." Egypt had been a refuge, a place of provision, but it was not home. To be buried in Egypt would be to identify with it, to give up the promise.
30 "But I will lie down with my fathers, and you will carry me out of Egypt and bury me in their burial place." And he said, "I will do as you have said."
Israel's faith is forward-looking. "I will lie down with my fathers." His identity is not with Pharaoh, but with Abraham and Isaac. His hope is bound up with the covenant God made with them. Therefore, his body must be carried out of Egypt and buried in "their burial place." This refers to the cave of Machpelah, the only piece of the Promised Land that Abraham had actually purchased (Genesis 23). That small plot of ground was the down payment on the entire land. It was the anchor of the promise. To be buried there was an act of raw faith. It was a sermon preached by a corpse, declaring that God's promise was sure and that one day all of Israel would return to that land. Joseph, the faithful son, understands the theological weight of this. He doesn't question it. He simply says, "I will do as you have said."
31 Then he said, "Swear to me." So he swore to him. Then Israel bowed in worship at the head of the bed.
Israel is not content with a simple promise. He requires an oath. This is not because he distrusts Joseph, but because he understands the monumental nature of what he is asking. Getting the body of the patriarch of a foreign people out of Egypt for burial in a remote cave in Canaan would be a logistical and political nightmare. An oath before God makes the promise unbreakable. Once Joseph swears, the matter is settled. And what is Israel's response? Worship. Having secured the future of his bones as a testimony to the faithfulness of God, he has nothing left to do but worship. The text says he "bowed in worship at the head of the bed." He is weak, bedridden, and dying. But he worships. The author of Hebrews, picking up on a slight variation in the Hebrew text (or a different manuscript tradition), says he "worshipped, leaning on the top of his staff" (Heb. 11:21). Whether bed or staff, the point is the same. His final act is one of faith-filled worship. He dies well, because he lived by faith in the promises of God.
Application
This passage is intensely practical for us. First, like Israel in Goshen, we are to be fruitful in the midst of a foreign culture. We are pilgrims, but we are not passive. We are to work, build, acquire property, and raise families, all as part of God's kingdom taking ground in the world. We live in our Egypt, but we are not of it.
Second, we must learn to die well, and dying well begins with living well. Israel's final days were not spent in panic, but in carefully ordering his affairs according to the covenant promises of God. His focus was not on his own comfort, but on the testimony he would leave behind. Our final wishes, our wills, our funerals, should all be shaped by our faith. They are our last sermon. Do they point people to the fleeting comforts of this world, or to the solid reality of the resurrection and the promised land to come?
Finally, Israel's story culminates in worship. Having lived by faith, he dies in worship. He clung to the promise of a piece of land, a promise that pointed to a greater reality. We have a far greater revelation. We know that the promised land was a type and shadow of the new heavens and the new earth. We know that the covenant seed was ultimately Jesus Christ. If Jacob could worship with such tenacity based on the promise of a tomb, how much more should we, who have the promise of an empty tomb, live and die in exuberant worship of our faithful God?