Blog

The Blessing

The old gentleman sat ram-rod straight in the chair in front of his lawyer’s desk and proceeded to map out his last will and testament: “. . . to my son James $150,000. . . to my son William $150,000 . . .”  The old gentleman was interrupted by the attorney—“But, Mr. Jones, you have only $200,000 in your estate; where is all this money you are bequeathing going to come from?” To which the old man replied indignantly, “Why, let ’em work for it, like I did!” There is more truth in the old man’s philosophy than we like to hear; yet it leads me to ask a question of every grandparent in light of last Sunday being Grandparents Day: Just what will you leave your children as their inheritance? Or to put it in a way that opens the door for more than materialism, What blessing can you give your grandchildren? Hear a story about passing on a blessing to your children and grandchildren.

Somebody passed along the word: “Your father is very ill.” And somebody else passed the word: “Your son is coming to see you.” The old man—some call him Jacob and others call him Israel—gathers all his strength and sits up on his bed. Something has been on his mind ever since he came down into Egypt with his sons and their families during the famine. It has been unspeakably wonderful to see his long-lost son Joseph again and to wander through the splendors of Egypt, marveling how Joseph has risen to be the number two man in the country, even in the world. But time is running out; soon Jacob will be gathered to his fathers, and he feels a tremendous need to talk about a most important matter with his famous son. He wants Joseph to know that the fame and wealth and cheering crowds of Egypt will all finally fade away; the halls will fall silent and the golden glory of Egypt will pass and a pharaoh will arise who does not know Joseph. But the Promise shall never perish —it will shine bright through the centuries. 

“God Almighty appeared to me at Bethel in Canaan and blessed me. . .” It was a grace meeting. Jacob remembers that he was a scoundrel when God stood in his path and met him with grace. “I will give this land,” said God Almighty, “to your children after you for an everlasting possession.” 

The old man rouses from his reverie to ask, “Who are these?” pointing to Joseph’s two young sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. Is it that the old man cannot see well enough to make out clearly the forms in front of him? Or is this the fond talk of a grandfather—“What’s your name, boy, have you got a name? I bet they forgot to name you . . .” Old Jacob asks him to bring the boys closer that he may bless them. Joseph did and old Jacob hugged and kissed the little boys, and holding out feeble hands he blessed them.

May the God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked;

May the God who fed me all my life long until this day;

May the Angel of God who redeemed me from all evil

—bless the lads.

Rembrandt has a beautiful and moving painting of this scene, hanging in the museum in Kassel, Germany, and reproduced often in art books. In the painting we see three generations, old Jacob sitting up in the bed, a rich crimson coverlet, his head leaning toward Joseph as he explains the blessing. The two little boys—one with dark hair and one with golden locks—bow over the coverlet, while behind them stands Joseph’s wife Asenath, with motherly pride.

And so the old schemer Jacob, who by the grace of Almighty God became Israel, the prince, blessed the lads that day. 

Can you as a grandfather, as parents, do what Jacob did? Can you pass on the Promise? Do you remember what Peter said on the Day of Pentecost to the crowd—“The promise is to you, and to your children, and to all who are afar off.” The Promise of being God’s special child, of being a vital link in God’s plan of redemption, is offered to you and me through the death of Christ. And as children of the Promise we can bless our children and tell them that our treasure is not of this world; that the most precious thing we possess is the Promise of God’s love.

If I were a betting man, I’d bet you will hear of the Promise through Jesus Christ at church this Sunday. Go see. 

Earl Davis’ column “Raccoon Theology” appears biweekly in the Watauga Democrat and the Blowing Rocket. Dr. Davis is a minister, an author, and an artist, earldavisfineart.com. He can be contacted at [email protected] 

I