Genesis 49

Genesis 49 — Commentary and Meaning

The short answer

Genesis 49 records Jacob's final words to his twelve sons, spoken from his deathbed in Egypt. It is often called a blessing, and the chapter itself uses that word, but much of it reads more like a verdict. Jacob looks at each son in turn and tells the truth about him—what he has done, what kind of man he is, and what will become of his descendants. Some sons receive promises; others receive judgments they cannot appeal.

The hardest words fall early. Reuben, the firstborn, loses his preeminence because he slept with his father's concubine. Simeon and Levi are condemned for their fury—Jacob refuses to join their council, remembering how they slaughtered the men of Shechem in chapter 34. The word Jacob uses for their violence is a strong one; it appears elsewhere in Genesis to describe the corruption that provoked the flood and the wrong Sarah felt Hagar had done her. In Jacob's mouth it is an indictment, not a blessing.

Then comes Judah, and the poem turns. Judah's brothers will praise him; the scepter will not depart from him until the one comes to whom it belongs, and peoples will obey him. This brief, mysterious promise became one of the most important seeds of messianic hope in the Bible. Later readers—including the prophet Ezekiel, watching the collapse of Judah's last kings—looked back to it as assurance that a true ruler from David's line was still coming.

The remaining sons receive shorter oracles: Zebulun by the sea, Issachar bearing burdens, Dan judging his people, and so on. Joseph receives the longest and warmest blessing. The chapter closes with Jacob charging his sons to bury him in Canaan, in the cave where Abraham and Sarah lie, before he breathes his last.

In these two passages, John Goldingay traces two threads running out of Genesis 49: the cryptic promise to Judah, which Ezekiel's hope for a rightful Davidic ruler picks up even as Zedekiah falls, and the strong word for violence that links Jacob's charge against the killers of Shechem's men to Sarah's sense of being violated.

“Its point about rulers is picked up later in the section when Ezekiel confronts “Israel’s ordinary , faithless ruler,” Zedekiah, who will be deposed as his predecessor had been. Yahweh puts down the majestic and exalts the insignificant. It’s the principle embodied in the exaltation of little David to be king, but you can’t have one half of the principle without the other half. The threefold repetition of “ruin” scarily parallels the threefold “holy, holy, holy” in Isaiah 6. It suggests not just ruin to the power of one or of two but ruin to the power of three. But such ruin won’t be the end. Zedekiah will be deposed, but there’ll come one to whom Davidic authority will properly belong (compare the cryptic promise to Judah in Genesis 49).”

John Goldingay · Senior Professor of Old Testament and David Allan Hubbard Professor Emeritus of Old Testament, Fuller Theological Seminary, Lamentations and Ezekiel for everyone Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Goldingay in Rebind →

“It is as if she has had “violence” done to her; she feels violated, we might say. Hagar has done violation to the proper order of the family not by sleeping with Abraham but by dishonoring the mistress of the house, even if she is now also a wife. There are two other occasions when Genesis uses the word violence . In Genesis 6 it is part of the description of the world as full of violence, which drives God to decide to destroy it. In Genesis 49 it will describe two people who had killed every man in the city of Shechem. Sarah uses a very strong word when she talks about violence. There is no doubt she feels seriously violated, quite belittled. This is what a colleague of mine used to call “pain talking.”

John Goldingay · Senior Professor of Old Testament and David Allan Hubbard Professor Emeritus of Old Testament, Fuller Theological Seminary, Genesis for Everyone: Part 1 Chapters 1–16 Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Goldingay in Rebind →

Genesis 49 refuses to separate honesty from hope, and that is its gift to us. Jacob does not pretend his sons are better than they are; he names Reuben's failure and Simeon and Levi's violence out loud, in front of the family. Yet the same poem carries one of Scripture's great promises. Real blessing, it suggests, does not require flattery—and God's purposes can run through a deeply flawed family.

It is also worth noticing where the promise lands: on Judah, who sold his brother into slavery in chapter 37. If hope can be planted in that soil, no honest account of your own past disqualifies you from it.

Genesis 49 sits at the close of the Joseph story and of Genesis itself. Jacob's family has settled in Egypt under Joseph's protection, and Jacob, now near death, has already blessed Joseph's sons Ephraim and Manasseh in chapter 48. Here he gathers all twelve sons to tell them what will happen in days to come—words that look back over the whole book's family history and forward to the tribes of Israel. Chapter 50 follows with Jacob's burial in Canaan and Joseph's final reconciliation with his brothers.