I’m studying the second half of Genesis right now and I just came across a pivotal moment in the life of Isaac. The incident is recorded in Genesis 26 but I’ll summarize it: The patriarch is living in Canaan in the midst of a famine, and his first instinct is to head to Egypt as his father did (Genesis 12:10). It was there where Abraham infamously lied about Sarah, saying she was his sister because he feared they might kill him and take her. Isaac makes it to Gerar, where Abraham once journeyed and (FOR A SECOND TIME ARE YOU KIDDING ME ABRAHAM?!) said that Sarah was his sister instead of his wife, because he was afraid they might kill him and take her. Sheesh.

Anyway, while in Gerar, God tells Isaac not to go to Egypt but to remain where he is, despite the danger of the famine. Isaac, to his tremendous credit, trusts and obeys the Lord. Conventional wisdom would have guided Isaac into Egypt. It was easily the largest and most prosperous Kingdom in the known world at this time, able to withstand the effects of the famine (if not removed from it entirely). And yet, a servant of God must follow the will of the Father, and go where He leads, even if the path is unconventional. What seems right to us is irrelevant; God knows the future, and occasionally directs His servants to places that might not seem right, in order to accomplish His Divine will.

Despite all human wisdom pointing Isaac toward Egypt, the patriarch of God obeyed his Master’s voice and dwelt in Gerar. Like Abraham, Isaac wasn’t perfect, but as with Abraham, you can rightly say: Isaac believed God and it was counted to him as righteousness. You can also rightly say: Isaac’s belief in God was not not just “seen in” his obedience, but was “expressed by” his obedience. Without his obedience, there would have been no belief. True belief is more than mental acceptance; it involves submissive action.

Give Isaac credit: He followed in his father’s footsteps…

Genesis 26:7  And the men of the place asked him of his wife; and he said, She is my sister: for he feared to say, She is my wife; lest, said he, the men of the place should kill me for Rebekah; because she was fair to look upon.

…including the part where he lies about his wife being his sister.

Are you kidding me? What is it with this family? Is this just a common thing that everyone did or is there something in Abraham’s DNA that just imprints on his direct offspring, like red hair or something? Was Ishmael somewhere at that moment journeying to a new town and insisting that his wife was his sister?

Isaac justifies his lie in the same way his father did, thinking that they would surely kill him and take his wife. How can one man demonstrate such a supreme level of faith one minute (remaining in Gerar in the midst of the famine) and then toss it away the next (by assuming God would not protect him and his wife in Gerar)?

Two things. First, Isaac is human. He is just like everyone else, full of a hundred little self-contradictions, and weaknesses. He wasn’t the first person to show a gross lack of hindsight or foresight, nor was the last. We’ve all been there. Second, I think it’s easy to see why Isaac did this, even hot on the heels of his great act of faith. Remaining in Gerar as God commanded required faith, yes, but it was such a humongous idea, involving famine and the providence of God over weather, that it might have been easier for him to just throw up his hands and say “I will trust God.”

On the other hand, the situation with Rebekah was much smaller in scale and more easily grasped: Isaac can’t fathom the magnitude of a famine, but he can appreciate petty envy and murderous desires. That’s a danger just small enough for him to think he can handle on his own, without God’s help. That’s what made it so dangerous a temptation. It is so dangerous, in fact, that it managed to snare not one but two tremendous men of faith. Keep that in mind, the next time you are face-to-face with a “minor” problem. Don’t try to solve it without God, and certainly don’t compromise godly principles. Trust the Lord.

~Matthew