So, if he unfolds to us the character and ways of God, he gives us God as he is. And this, we need hardly remark, is exactly what we need. We need the revelation of one perfect in holiness, yet perfect in grace and mercy, who could come down into all the depth of man's need, his misery and his degradation, and deal with him there, and raise him up out of it into full, unhindered fellowship with himself in all the reality of what he is. This is what scripture gives us. God knew what we needed, and he has given it to us, blessed be his name!
And be it remembered that in setting before us in faithful love all the traits of a man's character, it is simply with a view to magnify the riches of divine grace and to admonish our souls. It is not by any means in order to perpetuate the memory of sins forever blotted out from his sight. The blots, the failures, and the errors of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, have been perfectly washed away, and they have taken their place amid "the spirits of just men made perfect;" but their history remains on the page of inspiration for the display of God's grace, and for the warning of God's people in all ages; and, moreover, that we may distinctly see that the blessed God has not been dealing with perfect men and women, but with those of "like passions as we are;" that he has been walking and bearing with the same failures, the same infirmities, the same errors, as those over which we mourn every day.
This is peculiarly comforting to the heart; and it may well stand in striking contrast with the way in which the great majority of human biographies are written, in which, for the most part, we find not the history of men, but of beings devoid of error and infirmity. Such histories have rather the effect of discouraging than of edifying those who read them. They are rather histories of what men ought to be, than of what they really are, and they are therefore useless to us,--yea, not only useless, but mischievous.
Nothing can edify save the presentation of God dealing with man as he really is; and this is what the word gives us. The chapter before us illustrates this very fully. Here we find the aged patriarch Isaac, standing as it were at the very portal of eternity, the earth and nature fast fading away from his view, yet occupied about "savory meat," and about to act in direct opposition to the divine counsel, by blessing the elder instead of the younger. Truly this was nature, and nature with its "eyes dim." If Esau had sold his birthright for a mess of pottage, Isaac was about to give away the blessing for a mess of venison. How very humiliating!
But God's purpose must stand, and he will do all his pleasure. Faith knows this; and, in the power of that knowledge, can wait for God's time. This nature never can do, but must set about gaining its own ends by its own inventions. These are the two grand points brought out in Jacob's history,--God's purpose of grace on the one hand; and, on the other, nature plotting and scheming to reach what that purpose would have infallibly brought about without any plot or scheme at all. This simplifies Jacob's history amazingly, and not only simplifies it, but heightens the soul's interest in it also. There is nothing, perhaps, in which we are so lamentably deficient, as in the grace of patient, self-renouncing dependence upon God. Nature will be working in some shape or form, and thus, so far as in it lies, hindering the outshining of divine grace and power. God did not need the aid of such elements as Rebekah's cunning and Jacob's gross deceit, in order to accomplish his purpose. He had said, "the elder shall serve the younger." This was enough,--enough for faith, but not enough for nature, which must ever adopt its own ways, and know nothing of what it is to wait on God.