It may be observed how often the well, though so peaceful and beneficent in itself, is the occasion of bitter contention—as in Gen. 21, 26 &c.: in the sense Christ says, “I came not to send peace, but a sword.” Yet whilst all are contending around with clamorous party-shibboleths, each claiming a monopoly in the source of life, the well heeds not the clash of words or steel, but continues ever its gracious work of giving forth the living water. It yields allegiance to none of the contending factions, but yields blessings for them all. “It gives not to a party what was meant for mankind;" nor will it ever be possible for any party, though it be as large and imposing as that which Gregory the Great founded, to establish a monopoly of Christ.
“Isaac's servants digged in a valley and found there a well of springing (Hebrews living) water." It is in the low places that the living water is found. “And the herdmen of Gerar did strive with Isaac's herdmen, saying, The well is ours: and he called the name of the well Esek [conflict]. They digged another well and strove for that also: and he called the name of it Sitnah [hatred].” The Philistines had been stopping the wells (ver. 15) and had filled them with earth, but Isaac had re-digged them (ver. 18) and “he called their names after the names by which his father had called them.” So there were afterward “Philistines” who sought to destroy Christ, and for a time apparently succeeded in checking the streams of blessing. But Isaac (Christ in resurrection) unstops the fountains of grace; and he calls them by the same names; that is, Christ, in resurrection, carries on His accustomed work of mercy according to the same essential principles as from the beginning.
But, even after that, the pilgrim's journey is a progress of conflict. If the enemy cannot destroy the well, he will seek to deprive the pilgrim of it; and if Satan's power could not, even by death, cut off the source of spiritual life, he will seek to occupy the ground himself and thus deprive us of Christ; and this not once or twice but at every stage of the journey. So the pilgrimage is often marked by “conflict” and “hatred;” but, nevertheless, the pilgrim at last reaches Rehoboth where there is “room.” This is like Bunyan's land of Beulah, for “he went up from thence to Beersheba” (the well of the oath), where God's benediction rests on him. “And he builded an altar there and...digged a well.”
How fit that these two beautiful types of what our Lord Jesus Christ is—to God and to man—should rest together, side by side, at the close of the pilgrim's journey! As in the wilderness, with Israel, the rock followed them with its everflowing springs of refreshment, so here we trace from stage to stage of the journey the ministry of the well—from the first point where, at Lahai-roi, the helpless and despairing sinner found that “Thou God seest me,” onward through hostility and hatred, until at last the border of Canaan is reached, and, at Beer-sheba, by the side of the well of “the oath,” the journey is ended; the altar is erected by the side of the last and permanent well—the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.
It is remarkable that it was God who gave the name Isaac ("laughter”) to the son of the promise. We are apt to think that gloom and austerity are the characteristics of devotedness, but Abraham laughed in God's presence, and so far from being rebuked for it, his laughter, being an expression of faith, is approved in the naming of his son. The laughter of Sarah is the amused expression of unbelief, and she is sharply rebuked. Though the Oriental peoples are habitually grave, there is a great deal about laughter in the Bible, and mostly it expresses these two notions of happiness and contempt. “Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh” are the comforting words addressed to His suffering disciples. But very different in meaning is the expression, “He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.”
In Rom. 4 Paul draws especial attention to the fact that righteousness was imputed to Abraham before he received the ordinance of circumcision. This is the great principle of Scripture that ordinances follow and are, based upon justification, and not that they in any way lead to it—which would be to reverse God's order. Both the justification and the promise precede circumcision, but this is remarkable—that an ampler revelation of God immediately follows it. To be an object of mercy in forgiveness or of grace in decree, Abraham did not need to be (previously) circumcised; but to commune with God as with a “friend,” to be entrusted with the divine counsels, to make priestly intercession for others, it was necessary that he should be. Even in Old Testament times this rite was understood to be simply a type of the cutting-off and repudiation of the “flesh'—the carnal nature. It took place on the eighth day, accompanied by naming or re-naming, signifying a new creation. In this, as in all else dispensationally, the believer is “complete in” Christ, “in whom also ye are circumcised......in putting off the body of the flesh.” But there is a certain application of its great principle—if condemning and repudiating the “flesh” be rather a consequence than a cause of justification, yet it has its important place, and must precede anything like an intimacy and intercommunion with the Divine mind. Judicial dealing precedes experience.
A difference is drawn between the concision and the circumcision; that is, between the observers of the mere outward ordinance and those who apprehend the spiritual meaning which it represents. And this is connected with the exhortation to “beware of dogs:" the characteristic of dogs is that they return to what they had previously rejected—in one word, apostasy. The writer proceeds, “For we are the circumcision, which worship in the Spirit of God, and rejoice in Christ Jesus and have no confidence in the flesh......If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more.” He had all natural advantages, but repudiates them, and “counts them but loss that he may win Christ.” On one occasion, in Parliament, the Speaker had to rise to put the Question as to whether he himself had or had not been corrupt, and being obliged to confess that the “Ayes” had it, he had deliberately and formally to pronounce his own condemnation and abasement. It is this passing of judgment— “this sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raiseth the dead” that, though it be painful, is the means of bringing us into greater and richer endowments.
Consequent on all this comes the very important and characteristic word “Sojourn” =so-jor-ning, sojourner. It is day-staying, in contrast to “dwelling” which is a permanent thing. Throughout both Testaments the two words occur with frequency, carrying important principles. Thus Peter entreats the believers as sojourners (παροίκους) and pilgrims to abstain from fleshly lusts, and “to pass the time of your sojourning here in fear.” They are to be merely travelers here in this world and not to make it their home or dwelling place. On the other hand these pilgrims dwell in God and His word “dwells” in them, and His Spirit “dwells” in them. In the collective sense, and as individuals, God Himself “dwells” in them, and it is desired for them that Christ may “dwell” in their hearts by faith. Finally they themselves shall “dwell” in the house of the Lord forever.
We should not omit to “remember Lot's wife” as one who had great privileges in being in near relationship to a man who was saved and justified; and as one who had been divinely favored and warned, because of that relationship; who for a time had taken the warning and determined to leave the guilty city; yet who, notwithstanding all this, perished. In Lot we see how near a man can be to damnation and yet be saved: in his wife we see how near one may be to salvation and yet be lost.