Sunday Rewind - Genesis 47
Genesis 47
Sojourners and Priests: Living as Blessings in a Broken World
We live in a world that desperately needs blessing, yet rarely hears God's name spoken except in vain. Everywhere we turn, the sacred is trivialized, the holy is mocked, and the divine is dismissed. But what if you possessed the power to change that—not through argument or condemnation, but through the simple, profound act of blessing?
A Tale of Two Worlds
Genesis 47 presents us with a fascinating contrast. Here we find Jacob, an elderly shepherd from famine-stricken Canaan, standing before Pharaoh, the most powerful man on earth. Egypt represents the world system—wealthy, powerful, self-sufficient. Jacob represents God's people—pilgrims, sojourners, those who belong to another kingdom.
What happens in this encounter is stunning: Jacob blesses Pharaoh. Not once, but twice.
The cultural norms of that day were clear: the greater blessed the lesser. Yet here stands this shepherd, this stranger, pronouncing blessing upon the ruler of the known world. Why? Because Jacob understood something profound: his position before God made him greater than any earthly authority, regardless of appearances.
The Royal Priesthood
This isn't just ancient history. Peter tells us that we are "a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people" (1 Peter 2:9). We carry the same authority Jacob exercised. We have been commissioned to bless.
In Numbers 6, God instructed Aaron and his sons on how to bless the people of Israel:
"The LORD bless you and keep you; The LORD make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; The LORD lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace."
Then comes the remarkable promise: "So they shall put My name on the children of Israel, and I will bless them" (Numbers 6:27).
When we pronounce blessing over others, we place God's name upon them. And God promises to bless them.
Two Ways to Bless
We bless people through our words and through our prayers.
The Words We Say: Imagine the cashier at the grocery store, the coworker in the next cubicle, the neighbor across the street. They're accustomed to hearing God's name used carelessly, flippantly, even profanely. But when you look them in the eye and say, "May the Lord bless you and keep you," something shifts. For a moment, they're confronted with the reality of a God who cares, who sees, who desires to bless them.
It's radical. It's countercultural. And it's doable because we are priests of the royal priesthood.
The Way We Pray: Walk your neighborhood and pray blessings over each home. Sit in traffic and ask God to let His face shine upon that driver beside you. Pray for peace in the homes of those who've wronged you. Jesus commanded us to "bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you" (Luke 6:28).
The Blessing That Sticks
Here's the beautiful mystery: when blessing flows through you, it sticks to you.
You cannot be a conduit of God's grace without being transformed by it. When you bless the difficult boss, you're changed. When you pray for the neighbor who gossips about you, something happens in your own heart. The blessing you pronounce over others becomes the blessing you experience.
Strangers in a Strange Land
Jacob understood that he was merely passing through. He told Pharaoh, "The days of the years of my pilgrimage are one hundred and thirty years" (Genesis 47:9). He used the word pilgrimage—not residence, not settlement, but pilgrimage.
Later, the King James Version records his sons saying to Pharaoh, "For to sojourn in the land are we come" (Genesis 47:4). They weren't there to stay. They were temporary residents, looking forward to something better.
The writer of Hebrews reminds us that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob "confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth...they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them" (Hebrews 11:13-16).
The more we engage with our culture, the more we should feel like aliens. We don't belong to this corruption, this brokenness. We're just passing through, looking for that city whose builder and maker is God.
When All You Have Is God
As the famine intensified, the Egyptians exhausted their savings, then their possessions, then their land. Eventually, they had nothing left but themselves. And Joseph—that beautiful picture of Christ—provided for them all.
This is the reality we all face, whether we acknowledge it or not. Our money, our possessions, our achievements—none of it ultimately matters. If it weren't for God's provision, we'd have nothing to purchase with our wealth anyway. He makes His sun rise on the evil and the good, sends rain on the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45).
The question isn't whether we depend on God—we all do. The question is whether we recognize it.
Gathering All Things to Himself
Joseph gathered everything to Pharaoh's throne—money, livestock, land, even the people themselves. It's a picture of what God is doing throughout history: gathering all things to Himself, "both which are in heaven and which are on earth" (Ephesians 1:10).
To whatever degree you're bringing your money, possessions, relationships, and very self to God's throne, that's the degree to which you're flowing with what He's doing in the universe. When you fight to keep control, you're swimming against the current. When you surrender, you discover the freedom of alignment with divine purpose.
Your Best Chapter
Jacob's story is one of transformation. The deceiver became Israel, the prince with God. The schemer became the blesser. His final years in Egypt were marked by faith, maturity, and anticipation of God's promises.
Your best chapter is yet to come. God is still working, still refining, still conforming you to the image of His Son. Be confident of this: He who began a good work in you will complete it (Philippians 1:6).
So go into the world as Jacob went into Pharaoh's court. Speak blessing over the powerful and the powerless alike. Place God's name upon everyone you meet. And watch as He transforms both them and you in the process.
You are a stranger and pilgrim here—but you carry the authority of heaven. Use it to bless.
Sojourners and Priests: Living as Blessings in a Broken World
We live in a world that desperately needs blessing, yet rarely hears God's name spoken except in vain. Everywhere we turn, the sacred is trivialized, the holy is mocked, and the divine is dismissed. But what if you possessed the power to change that—not through argument or condemnation, but through the simple, profound act of blessing?
A Tale of Two Worlds
Genesis 47 presents us with a fascinating contrast. Here we find Jacob, an elderly shepherd from famine-stricken Canaan, standing before Pharaoh, the most powerful man on earth. Egypt represents the world system—wealthy, powerful, self-sufficient. Jacob represents God's people—pilgrims, sojourners, those who belong to another kingdom.
What happens in this encounter is stunning: Jacob blesses Pharaoh. Not once, but twice.
The cultural norms of that day were clear: the greater blessed the lesser. Yet here stands this shepherd, this stranger, pronouncing blessing upon the ruler of the known world. Why? Because Jacob understood something profound: his position before God made him greater than any earthly authority, regardless of appearances.
The Royal Priesthood
This isn't just ancient history. Peter tells us that we are "a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people" (1 Peter 2:9). We carry the same authority Jacob exercised. We have been commissioned to bless.
In Numbers 6, God instructed Aaron and his sons on how to bless the people of Israel:
"The LORD bless you and keep you; The LORD make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; The LORD lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace."
Then comes the remarkable promise: "So they shall put My name on the children of Israel, and I will bless them" (Numbers 6:27).
When we pronounce blessing over others, we place God's name upon them. And God promises to bless them.
Two Ways to Bless
We bless people through our words and through our prayers.
The Words We Say: Imagine the cashier at the grocery store, the coworker in the next cubicle, the neighbor across the street. They're accustomed to hearing God's name used carelessly, flippantly, even profanely. But when you look them in the eye and say, "May the Lord bless you and keep you," something shifts. For a moment, they're confronted with the reality of a God who cares, who sees, who desires to bless them.
It's radical. It's countercultural. And it's doable because we are priests of the royal priesthood.
The Way We Pray: Walk your neighborhood and pray blessings over each home. Sit in traffic and ask God to let His face shine upon that driver beside you. Pray for peace in the homes of those who've wronged you. Jesus commanded us to "bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you" (Luke 6:28).
The Blessing That Sticks
Here's the beautiful mystery: when blessing flows through you, it sticks to you.
You cannot be a conduit of God's grace without being transformed by it. When you bless the difficult boss, you're changed. When you pray for the neighbor who gossips about you, something happens in your own heart. The blessing you pronounce over others becomes the blessing you experience.
Strangers in a Strange Land
Jacob understood that he was merely passing through. He told Pharaoh, "The days of the years of my pilgrimage are one hundred and thirty years" (Genesis 47:9). He used the word pilgrimage—not residence, not settlement, but pilgrimage.
Later, the King James Version records his sons saying to Pharaoh, "For to sojourn in the land are we come" (Genesis 47:4). They weren't there to stay. They were temporary residents, looking forward to something better.
The writer of Hebrews reminds us that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob "confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth...they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them" (Hebrews 11:13-16).
The more we engage with our culture, the more we should feel like aliens. We don't belong to this corruption, this brokenness. We're just passing through, looking for that city whose builder and maker is God.
When All You Have Is God
As the famine intensified, the Egyptians exhausted their savings, then their possessions, then their land. Eventually, they had nothing left but themselves. And Joseph—that beautiful picture of Christ—provided for them all.
This is the reality we all face, whether we acknowledge it or not. Our money, our possessions, our achievements—none of it ultimately matters. If it weren't for God's provision, we'd have nothing to purchase with our wealth anyway. He makes His sun rise on the evil and the good, sends rain on the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45).
The question isn't whether we depend on God—we all do. The question is whether we recognize it.
Gathering All Things to Himself
Joseph gathered everything to Pharaoh's throne—money, livestock, land, even the people themselves. It's a picture of what God is doing throughout history: gathering all things to Himself, "both which are in heaven and which are on earth" (Ephesians 1:10).
To whatever degree you're bringing your money, possessions, relationships, and very self to God's throne, that's the degree to which you're flowing with what He's doing in the universe. When you fight to keep control, you're swimming against the current. When you surrender, you discover the freedom of alignment with divine purpose.
Your Best Chapter
Jacob's story is one of transformation. The deceiver became Israel, the prince with God. The schemer became the blesser. His final years in Egypt were marked by faith, maturity, and anticipation of God's promises.
Your best chapter is yet to come. God is still working, still refining, still conforming you to the image of His Son. Be confident of this: He who began a good work in you will complete it (Philippians 1:6).
So go into the world as Jacob went into Pharaoh's court. Speak blessing over the powerful and the powerless alike. Place God's name upon everyone you meet. And watch as He transforms both them and you in the process.
You are a stranger and pilgrim here—but you carry the authority of heaven. Use it to bless.
Posted in Sunday Rewind
Recent
Archive
2025
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
September
October