Jacob and his family were in a very low condition at Shechem. In their objectless wanderings and settlements they had contracted a sort of “foot and mouth disease,” a contagious ailment which attacks spiritual as well as physical sheep. There even were “strange gods” in the house, and Jacob seems to have known of it, and tolerated it. But as Luther says, “When we are most ready to perish, then is God most ready to help us.” “He sent His word and healed them.”
Here we see something of the power of the Word, in conveying instruction and, at the same time, conveying strength to receive and respond to that instruction. Acestes of old was said to have shot an arrow with such power that it was ignited in its course; so there is such power in the message sent to Shechem, that “The swift thought kindles as it flies," and, reaching the patriarch's house, burns up fears, vacillations, and false gods, re-creating, phoenix-like, out of their ashes, a new Jacob, who shall no more be called the Supplanter but the Prince. It produces resolute purpose and vigorous action which terrifies the hostility of his foes; it purifies and directs him to Luz (separation), and transforms that place into Bethel (the house of Sod), where he finds Christ (the Pillar), and where he can approach, worship, and commune with the divine Majesty. He is now, and not till now, in his proper place: all his efforts to settle down short of this have been nameless, and the time worse than wasted; hence he is renamed (Gen. 35:1010And God said unto him, Thy name is Jacob: thy name shall not be called any more Jacob, but Israel shall be thy name: and he called his name Israel. (Genesis 35:10)), and starts all over again. They are visited, it is true, by a fresh distress; Deborah dies. But God Almighty blesses him with an extended benediction—the millennial blessing of the earthly Christ— “a company of nations,” —an embryo of the seventy-second Psalm. Therefore he afterward says, that the blessings on him “have prevailed above the blessings of my progenitors, unto the utmost bound of the everlasting hills."
The memorial of God's visiting and talking with him is the Stone Pillar, on which he pours oil—Christ “anointed by the Holy Ghost.” Oil yields light, nourishment, warmth, and lubrication: that which is dark becomes illumined to us by the Holy Ghost; that which is unattractive becomes spiritual food and warmth; and that which is difficult or impossible becomes attainable or facile. Thus when the difficulties of building the second temple were apparently mountainous to Zerubbabel and his companions, Zechariah cheers them with the vision of the two “sons of oil,” the olive trees, supporting the candlestick and affording an exhaustless supply of the “golden oil,” through the “golden pipes;” and accompanying the vision by the explanation, “Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.... Who art thou, 0 great mountain? Before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain."
He also pours on a “drink offering.” This was of wine “which maketh glad the heart of man,” “which cheereth God and man. It is a symbol of joy; and it is associated with all the offerings, except the sin and trespass offerings: there could be nothing of joy connected with these to anyone. But with the other aspects of Christ's life and death, God has appointed that our happiness shall be mingled. The monkish idea that devotion is a gloomy and painful exercise is not divine; it is devilish. Yet it is an idea that, containing as it does a gross slander upon God and godliness, many excellent persons have done much to encourage and perpetuate. There is no human soul that has not been hindered by harboring this slander. Not only where men have transformed cruelty into Deity, as where Moloch lapped the blood of human sacrifices, or where Kalee decorates herself with corpses for earrings, or Juggernaut crushes the bones of his victims; nor where Simon Stylites wasted on his pillar; nor where devout men like St. Anthony preferred such means of grace as dirt and horsehair, or where in the “cave, Honorius lone did dwell, In hope of gaining heaven by making earth a hell,” —but wherever there lurks in our foolish hearts the wicked thought that God can take any pleasure in our suffering—is this lesson needed, that God wants us to be happy and tells us where happiness is to be found. The philosophers can tell us where it is not to be found, and that is all. “Happiness does not consist in strength,” says Epictetus, “for Myro and Ofellius were miserable; nor in riches, for Croesus was unhappy; nor in power, for the Consuls were never satisfied; nor in all these things combined, for Nero, Sardanapalus, and Agamemnon raved and tore their hair.” But we know where it is to be found. “The kingdom of God is.........righteousness, peace, and joy.” “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy,..........” The desire of the Son is “that your joy may be full.”
It was well for Jacob to be at Bethel: that seemed to be his right place. But “they journeyed from Bethel.” Immediately we read of the heaviest sorrow of his life befalling him the thrice-beloved Rachel died. He journeys again (ver. 21), and then comes the fearful wickedness of Reuben. He journeys again, and then comes his father's death. He then “dwelt in the land wherein his father was a stranger” (and, only sojourned), and we read of the long series of troubles in connection with Joseph.