# 49 - The Passing of Isaac - In this episode of The Chosen People with Yael Eckstein we experience the final chapter of Isaac’s life, a patriarch’s quiet faith as he passes the torch of God’s promise to the next generation. Join us for a story of legacy, reconciliation, and the enduring covenant that binds the past, present, and future.
Episode 49 of The Chosen People with Yael Eckstein is inspired by the Book of Genesis.
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Today's opening prayer is inspired by Galatians 4:28, “Now you, brothers, like Isaac, are children of promise.”
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Previously on the chosen people.
My loved Isaac, May our God bless you and keep you. May you walk in His ways all the days of your life, and may you be the blessing to all nations. As God promised to me.
Isaac, son of my servant Abraham, you have spent a lifetime following your father as he followed me. I come now to bless you, to carry out the promise I made to your father. Through your lifetime, your family's name will be great, and I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you. Through your lineage, all the families of the earth shall be blessed.
And so Isaac walked confidently with his God in the peace and prosperity he had been granted in the land. Promise to his father.
No, no, no matter the opposition we face, we will wait on our God.
Jacob leaned forward and kissed his father on the head.
May God give you the doo of heaven, the fatness of the earth, and plenty of grain and wine. May people and nations bow down to you and serve you. You will be lord over your brothers, and your mother's son will bend a knee to you.
His world was one of truth and trust. It was a simple world, one of blessings and gratitude.
No matter what comes, I trust to God most High will provide. He always provides. Sometimes in the final hour he responds to our our silent prayers. Have faith, my little dove, just as I have.
In the twilight of his years, Isaac's eyes dimmed, but the vision of God's promise burned right than ever. Salome friends, from here in the Holy Land of Israel. I'm ye l Extein with the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, and welcome to the Chosen People. Have you been impacted or inspired by this podcast? I want to hear about it, and I would be so grateful if you leave a review for the podcast. I read all of them and they help me to gain a better understanding of who I'm speaking to. I want to know about you and what you like about this podcast, So go ahead and leave a review. And if you're interested in learning more about the countless lives being helped and saved and affected by my work at the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, and how are on the forefront of Biblical prophecy coming to fruition in Israel. You can visit IFCJ dot com. Now let's begin.
Jacob shifted uncomfortably on his feet. The old wound in his hid pained him terribly if he leaned on it for too long. Despite the ache of his leg, his keen eyes never left the small force approaching on the horizon from the south, his twin brother, Esau. In fact, the injury was a reminder of the last time they met. He had prepared for the worst, but fortunately their showdown ended with Esau embracing Jacob. The two men reduced to tears, reconciliation found at last. They went their separate ways again, but Jacob knew that a similar reunion awaited them today. For the purpose of Esau's Sir John North, from his desert home in Sea, was the death of their father, Isaac.
Master Jacob, your brother has arrived.
Send him directly to our father's tent. You'll want to see him and close his eyes before the bodies prepared for burial.
It was customary for the eldest to close the parent's eyes upon death. Jacob had stolen so much from Esau already, this at least he could give him.
Master Jacob master, Esau brother brother.
The two Wayward brothers embraced and wept before their father's deathbed. Despite the strife and rivalry that had been between them for the vast majority of their lives, they were united in their grief for their father, their last remaining pair rant Their mother had passed before Jacob had even returned to Canaan. Jacob's final words to his mother were in a hurried escape. She had not seen him marry, nor have children, nor build a fortune of his own making, nor become a clan leader in his own right. Jacob had also recently buried her maid, Deborah, who had been like a grandmother to him. Her death preceded the death of his beloved wife Rachel, and before even that, the death of his beloved son Joseph. Though well over a decade ago, still cast a long shadow over his life. The thought of their losses piled on to the grief of his father's and threatened to consume him. Jacob wordlessly gestured for Esau to step forward and do this final task for their father, to close his unseeing eyes so he could rest at last. When it was done, the two men sat at the foot of his death bed, and added their keening to that of the mourners outside their father's tent. Jacob and Esau had waded through hundreds of said mourners on their way to their father's tent. The commotion of the ceremony was a star contrast to the emptiness Jacob felt inside under the.
Weight of all his loss.
Their scene of public mourning was a far cry from the private moment Jacob had for his dear Deborah, the woman who nursed and raised his own mother, Rebecca. When Jacob came home to Canaan and was devastated by the news of her loss, Deborah entered his service, less to take care of his children, now mostly grown, and more to bring him comfort. He loved the woman, and he in turn wanted her to be comfortable in her advanced years. She was not a noble woman of his house or even a blood relation, so he knew she would not have a place in their cave tomb at Macpella, but he still wanted to have a place where he could honor her memory and mourn her all the same. Jacob found an oak tree to the south of Bethel, where his caravan had been established. He named the oak Alan barkout the oak of weeping when he buried her there, that was exactly what he did. He mourned both the women who raised him at the grave of woe. There was a finality to losing the last of one's parents. Jacob had twelve children of his own, the beginnings of a nation. But it wasn't until now that he truly felt the weight of what it was to steward their God's promise as the leader of their family. Despite the birthright, despite the blessing, despite the dreams, despite the provision and the protection, despite even the renaming from Jacob to Israel. It was not until he watched his father's eyes closed for the last time that he knew it was now up to him to take up his father's mantle of guardian of the promise and their legacy.
Tell me, brother, strange tales about you since I saw you last?
What have you heard?
People of Kannan now fear you. Your son sacked a whole town.
Unfortunately that is true.
I also hear you have new name.
Ah, Yes, a new name for a new people, the beginnings of a great nation established here in Canaan.
Ha ha ha. I understand name change. I also have a new name, Edam.
I suppose that is a strange coincidence. The twins of our great father have in turned father to nations.
Like our uncles sons of grandfather Abraham.
You were never one forgiving the promises of our God much weight.
And you never honor laws of our land. You never honor me. Well, what's what's past has passed? I have land and family, I have game and wives, I have sons. I do not need a birthright.
You know, I used to think you are stupid for despising father's birthright. But I feel you knew something I didn't. Brother to live simply is a gift. The responsibilities of this family legacy take its toll.
Yes, yes, I am simple man with simple desires. Father's birthright not simple, Far from simple. Distracting, you're irritating speaking of birthrights. I heard your firstborn has lost his Why what happened? Did a younger take it from him? H?
Not quite? But yes, I have had my share of strife amongst my sons.
Esau looked eager for Jacob to share more, but Jacob declined. The simmering anger he felt toward his son's, especially with Reuben, was always just under the surface. They were responsible for the disappearance and presumed death of his favorite son all those years ago, and when his beloved wife, Rachel died in childbirth after finally conceiving again, Reuben committed an unforgivable crime against him. Jacob recalled the betrayal as if it was yesterday, despite the events taking place several years ago. Jacob had returned to his tent to find the bedding of his concubine, Billah in disarray. The woman nowhere to be found. Her absence was surely a sign of her deep shame and disgrace of being defiled by another man. Jacob's fury ignited as he realized only one man could be responsible for such a heenous act, an act of aggression against not only his beloved wife's hands maiden, but also his very seat as a clan leader. For to take a clan leader's wife was tantamount to an act of treason. Jacob could still recall the heated argument when he found Reuben and confronted him for this crime.
Atreya defiler is discriminator, disrespector you will not even deny what I'm accusing you of. Would you deny your preference for a concubine over your first wife. You would replace her rightful place is your primary wife with a mere servants. Your hate my mother truly, so plain what we bare this disrespect, even when the second wife is dead and buried.
You would mask your own ambition for my seat by claiming the slight of your mother, who will defend her honor when her husband clearly will not.
Here you go too far, Oh, don't go far enough. You weren't even able to predict your conquit for me. If Arkinson is litake one of your wives, perhaps you were not fit to lead us. What no response to that? I thought as much. Would you also seek to replace me with Rachel's second son, with Benjamin? Do you think his namesake is some mystery to the rest of us, Son of my right hand, Your designs to replace me are obvious. You so clearly favored Rachel had her sons. That's no secret to any of us.
Do not speak his name. Hearkin speak it if it's so please, You will not, And you are no son of mine. It was only your watch that we lost one of our own. I hold you responsible for Joseph's death.
I always have I should have stripped you of your birth right, then thou wilt not make that mistake twice, Ruben, I deny you your birthright.
What you heard me, your actions has shown me you despise it. Why should I stand.
In your way?
This is your own doing.
All my brothers, Simeon and Leroy, would you pass over them as well? Would you discriminate against all your sons?
Your favoritism of Rachel and her sons was always so apparent. You were upsetting our every order, you mark of every customs.
You have reaped what you have sown. I will not change my mind.
I withhold my blessing from you and your brothers. Your corruption stays all of us. I am ashamed of you.
Jacob's face still flushed in anger at the thought of his firstborn's actions, and though the conflicts of his youth with his brother Esau were buried in behind them, he still felt as resolute as he ever did that the birthright should not go to one who is so easily swide into despising it. And he knew his father Isaac, despite his love and preference for Esau, agreed the birthright and the blessing remained with Jacob, the second born. Even all these years later, Jacob's thoughts returned to Esau and the present, and the two men prepared themselves for the burial of their father. Jacob and Esau buried their father Isaac next to their mother Rebecca and their grandparents Abraham and Sarah, in their family tomb in Hebrew. Many shared their fond memories of Isaac and spoke of his kindness and his faith. He had lived a long and full life in the land promised to Abraham by their God. Isaac never saw the land of his ancestors and lived all his years as an alien in the land of Canaan. But yet their God had prospered and sustained him. The favor in his life was undenied amongst his family and their neighbors. Long after everyone had gone back to their tents, Jacob stayed by the entrance of the cave tomb at the end of that field his grandfather Abraham had purchased all those years ago in the wake of the death of his grandmother Sarah. Though the memory was a distant one from the days of his youth, Jacob could still recall his father, Eyesac, remaining in this very place hours after his own father's death to mourn alone. The memory brought a faint smile to his lips. Such a tender memory in the midst of such sadness. Jacob wished he could have brought this beautiful and beloved Rachel here to this place to rest alongside his family. He wished she could have met his mother, Rebecca and spent more time with his father in life. Jacob did the best he could.
Do for her.
When she died, he buried her with honor and marked the grave so no one would disturb it. He returned there as often as he could, but he also had his beloved son, Benjamin to comfort him. Rachel had given him a beautiful final gift by bearing him a second son, the only one to be born here in the land promised to his forbearers. It was a fitting notion that his last son be born here. The death of Rachel and the birth of Benjamin marked the start of his sons inheriting his family's legacy. For his God had told him that his sons would possess this land.
Some day, I will give you and your offspring the land on which you are lying. Your offspring will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out towards the west, the east, the north, and the south. All the peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. Look, I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go. I will bring you back to this land, for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.
Jacob was indeed back in this land, and he sat at the foot of his father's and grandfather's graves. His God had done all he said he would do, and now there was nothing for Jacob to do but sit back and watch the promise unfold. Despite the death around him, he knew that there would be life, and in the life around him, the promise would continue.
Have you ever felt the weight of the legacy that's come before you? The burden of promises made to those who came before you, and the challenge of passing them on to those who will come after. That burden makes up the story of Isaac's final journey. Our patriarchs walked this earth with a singular purpose to be the bearers of God's divine promise. But what happens when a torch is past? What doesn't mean to carry a promise through the ages. How do we honor the past while stepping into the future. And can the weight of a blessing be both a gift and a burden. The story of Isaac's death is one that's wrapped in the dust of ages, and one that carries the weight of our forefather's history. Isaac, the child of promise, the link and the divine chain from Abraham to Jacob. His passing stirred something in me. I felt a heaviness, a sacred sorrow as I imagine the scene Jacob and Esau, those estranged brothers reunited at their father's deathbed, a moment of reconciliation that's tinged with grief. Their father, Isaac's life was one of wiet endurance, of waiting on the Lord's promises, from his near sacrifice on Mount Moria to the silent, sightless suffering of his blindness. Through Isaac, we see the patient faith that defines the chosen people. In Isaac's death, there's a reminder of the mortality that we all face. Yet there's also a hint of the eternal life that's promised to our people. Isaac's passing isn't just an end whether it's a passage, a journey from the material to the eternal. In Bible stories like this, I feel the heartbeat of the Jewish people's history, and I feel our collective hope. This isn't just the story of one man's death. It's a story of redemption, a story that continues through us his chosen people. And in this story sorrow, there's also a quiet joy, a joy rooted in the assurance of God's unwavering love, a love that carried Isaac and that still carries us today. As I reflect on this story, I can't help but say a prayer of gratitude, gratitude for Isaac's life, for the faith that he embodied, and for the hoping God that he passed on to generations. Let's look a little deeper at what Jewish tradition teaches us about this story. As the Bible tells of Isaac's passing, Verse twenty nine says quote, then he breathed his last and died, and was gathered to his people, old and full of years end quote. A translation of the Hebrew yamm Seva would actually translate more accurately as full of day, not full of years. So let's say that again. Let's quote that again according to how the literal Hebrew says it. Then he breathed his last and died, and was gathered to his people, old and.
Full of days.
Hmm, full of days? What does that mean? To be full of days? The great sage Nechmanides explained that Isaac was fully content with what each day brought him. That explanation really speaks to me, and I bet it speaks to you, because I think we live in a world where things are never enough, We are never satisfied. We're always working for something that we don't have, another vacation, a job that we like more, better relationships with our friends or our spouses. And what Rahmanides is saying here about Isaac is that he was content with what every day brought him, that he had enough. Every day he looked back and said that was a good day. Isn't that a wonderful thing to strive for, To spend our lives finding satisfaction in what each and every day brings. I don't think Nahmanides means that we shouldn't look into the future or even pray for what we want in the days ahead. And I don't think that he looked at every day as perfect. But what I think he means is that whatever happens, whatever God gives us, we can be content knowing that it's a part of God's plan for each of our lives. And of course, this is also a story about death of a burial. In Jewish tradition, burial is more than laying a body to rest. It's actually a sac ritual deeply entwined with our faith and our heritage. Abraham, the Father of many nations, rests beside his son, Isaac, the bearer of the Covenant. Isaac's burial alongside Abraham is not just a moment of mourning. Rather, it's a reminder of the importance of honoring our forefathers, and it reminds us of the continuity of God's promises passed down to generations. But what does Isaac's story teach us about the bigger picture? How does his legacy continue through Jacob in the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Isaac's story isn't just the story of one man. It's a story that's still being told of a divine promise, a promise that transcends generations. When Isaac passed, the convenient continued with Jacob, and with Jacob, the Covenant was reaffirmed, extending through his sons the twelve Tribes of Israel. And so, as we reflect on Isaac's story, Let's pledge to live with the same quiet endurance that Isaac lived. Let's yearn for that. Let's work towards that. Let's show the same steadfast faith that Isaac heroically and humbly displayed.
You can listen to the Chosen People with the Isle Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to the prey dot Com app today. This Prey dog comproduction is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Katina, Max Bard, Zach Shellabaga and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of The Chosen People with Yile Eckstein, Edited by Alberto Avilla, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan cotton O and Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwold, Sylvia Zaradoc and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith, written by Bree Rosalie and Aaron Salvato. Special thanks to Bishop Paulinier, Robin van Ettin, Kayleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Prey dot com productions on the Prey dot com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed The Chosen People with Yeile Eckstein, please rate and leave a review.