Faithful Through the Seasons

Introduction

Well, good morning!

If you have a Bible — and I hope that you do — go ahead and open it up with me to Genesis chapter 35, Genesis chapter 35…we’re gonna start in verse 16 this morning.

Now, before we jump in, let me ask you something: Have you ever had one of those days where everything just seems to happen at once? Like the kind of day where joy and pain crash right into each other?

You get good news — and then bad news in the same breath, right? You’re celebrating one moment, and then crying the next.

Maybe for you, it was the day a child was born and yet someone you loved passed away. Maybe it was graduation day — the excitement of what’s next mixed with the ache of leaving what’s behind.

Life has a way of doing that, doesn’t it? — mingling joy and sorrow in the same breath.

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Well listen, that’s exactly what happens in our passage this morning.

Jacob’s story takes a sharp turn right here in Genesis 35. He’s just come from Bethel — this incredible high point where God renewed His covenant, and reminded Jacob of who he is, and re-centered him in grace. It’s a moment of worship, renewal, fresh start.

But right after that… comes heartbreak. Rachel, the love of his life, she goes into labor — and she doesn’t survive.…A child’s born, but a wife’s buried. The sound of a baby’s first cry is followed by the silence of death.

And if that weren’t enough, the chapter goes on to record betrayal from within Jacob’s own family — his oldest son, Reuben, he sins shamefully — And then, by the end, Jacob stands at his father, Isaac’s funeral.

And so in just fourteen verses — we move from new life to death, from promise to pain, from hope to heartbreak. It’s a picture of real life — raw, unfiltered, unpredictable.

And yet — here’s what’s beautiful: through all of it, God’s still faithful.

Through death, through sin, through grief, through loss — God’s promise keeps moving forward. The covenant doesn’t break. His word doesn’t fail. His grace doesn’t stop at the gravesite.

Because what we see in this passage — which is our main idea this morning — is that God’s faithfulness endures through every season of life — the joy and the sorrow, the blessing and the breaking.

You see, Genesis 35:16–29 isn’t just a sad chapter — it’s a sacred one. Because it reminds us that the same God who meets us at Bethel in moments of worship…He also walks with us on the road to Bethlehem in moments of loss. He’s not just the God of mountaintop moments — He’s the God who shows up in the valleys as well.

And that’s where we find Jacob this morning — not on a mountain, but on the road. On the road between where he was and where he’s going.

And maybe that’s where some of us are this morning — walking through a season where joy and pain seem to be holding hands.

But if you’ll listen closely in the middle of it, you’ll hear the quiet footsteps of a faithful God who never leaves, who never forgets, who never fails.

And so this morning, we’re gonna look together at three scenes from this passage — what I’m calling:

The Pain of Life’s Seasons — where Rachel dies giving birth to Benjamin.

The Pollution of Sin’s Presence — where Reuben falls into rebellion.

And then…The Promise of God’s faithfulness — where God’s promise carries on, even through death.

Because when the seasons of life shift — when joy and sorrow trade places — God’s covenant love never does. He’s faithful — from the first cry to the final breath.

And so, with all that in mind, let’s stand together for the reading of God’s Word — Genesis chapter 35, beginning in verse 16.

Genesis 35:16–29 ESV

Then they journeyed from Bethel. When they were still some distance from Ephrath (Ef-rath), Rachel went into labor, and she had hard labor. And when her labor was at its hardest, the midwife said to her, “Do not fear, for you have another son.” And as her soul was departing (for she was dying), she called his name Ben-oni (Ben-no-ny); but his father called him Benjamin. So Rachel died, and she was buried on the way to Ephrath (Ef-rath) (that is, Bethlehem), and Jacob set up a pillar over her tomb. It is the pillar of Rachel’s tomb, which is there to this day. Israel journeyed on and pitched his tent beyond the tower of Eder (Ed-der). While Israel lived in that land, Reuben went and lay with Bilhah (Bill-Hah) his father’s concubine. And Israel heard of it. Now the sons of Jacob were twelve. The sons of Leah: Reuben (Jacob’s firstborn), Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar (I-sa-car), and Zebulun (Zeb-Bul-Lyn). The sons of Rachel: Joseph and Benjamin. The sons of Bilhah (Bill-Hah), Rachel’s servant: Dan and Naphtali (Naf-taa-lee). The sons of Zilpah (Zil-Pa), Leah’s servant: Gad and Asher. These were the sons of Jacob who were born to him in Paddan-aram. And Jacob came to his father Isaac at Mamre, or Kiriath-arba (Khear-i-ath...Ar-Ba) (that is, Hebron), where Abraham and Isaac had sojourned. Now the days of Isaac were 180 years. And Isaac breathed his last, and he died and was gathered to his people, old and full of days. And his sons Esau and Jacob buried him.

Thank you, you can be seated.

[Prayer]

Again, our three points this mornings…number 1, The Pain of Life’s Seasons…number 2, The Pollution of Sin’s Presence…and then number 3, The Promise of God’s faithfulness.

And so, if you would…keep your Bible’s open…hopefully you’re taking notes…let’s look at this first thing together.

I. The Pain of Life’s Seasons (vv. 16-21)

The pain of life’s seasons.

Look again with me at verse 16:

“Then they journeyed from Bethel. When they were still some distance from Ephrath (Ef-rath), Rachel went into labor, and she had hard labor.”

Now let’s pause right there.

Jacob’s just come from Bethel — again this incredible moment of renewal, and revival, and worship. He’s built an altar. He’s heard God’s voice again. He’s been reminded of who he is and of who God is. This is a spiritual mountaintop moment for him.

But notice the very next verse — “Then they journeyed from Bethel…”

In other words — the glory of Bethel, it didn’t exempt him from the grind of the road.’

He’s obeying God, he’s walking in faith, and yet — pain still finds him.

And listen, that’s such an important truth for us to see — because some of us, we’ve bought into this lie that if we just follow God faithfully, life’ll be easy. That if we obey, things’ll go smoothly for us. But Jacob reminds us here — you can be right in the center of God’s will, and yet you can still walk through heartbreak.

The text says, “When they were still some distance from Ephrath, Rachel went into labor, and she had hard labor.”

She’s not at the destination yet — she’s in transition. Again, she’s between where she was and where she’s going — and that’s where the pain hits ‘em.

That’s just how life works sometimes! Pain finds us in between. Between what used to be and what’s not yet. Between the promise and the fulfillment. Between Bethel and Bethlehem.

And so listen, the question for us becomes — how do we respond when obedience leads us straight into suffering?

Verse 17:

“And when her labor was at its hardest, the midwife said to her, ‘Do not fear, for you have another son.’”

I love that line. Because even in the middle of excruciating pain, there’s a whisper of promise.

“Don’t fear… you have another son.”

That’s the mercy of God right there — in the midst of agony, there’s still hope. Even when it hurts the most, God hasn’t stopped working. But notice: the promise doesn’t cancel the pain. Rachel still has to endure the trial. She still has to walk through it.

You see, we love the idea of God’s promises — we just don’t like that He often fulfills those promises through pain. But that’s the story of redemption, right? Life comes through labor. Resurrection comes through a cross. Glory comes through suffering.

Verse 18:

“And as her soul was departing (for she was dying), she called his name Ben-oni (Ben-no-ny); but his father called him Benjamin.”

This is one of the most heartbreaking verses in the book of Genesis.

Rachel, the woman Jacob worked 14 years for — the woman he loved most — she dies giving birth to her son.

And as she’s dying, she names her son Ben-oni (Ben-on-ny) — which means “son of my sorrow.” It’s a name marked by grief, and loss, heartbreak.

But notice — Jacob changes the name. He calls him Benjamin — which means “son of my right hand.”

Can you see the contrast here? Rachel names him out of pain — Jacob names him out of promise.

He’s saying, “This isn’t the end. I won’t let sorrow have the last word.” It’s as if Jacob’s declaring — “Even here, in the darkest moment of my life, I won’t define this season by death but by God’s faithfulness.”

And church, that’s the mark of spiritual maturity — when you can rename your sorrow by faith. When instead of letting pain write the story, you let God’s promise reframe it.

Some of you right now, you’re walking through your own Ben-oni (Ben-no-ny) moment — a season you’d label as “sorrow, or loss, or disappointment.” But maybe God’s inviting you to rename it Benjamin — not “this is where it ended,” but “this is where He held me.” Not “the son of my sorrow,” but “the son of my right hand.”

Because listen to me — that’s what faith does. It doesn’t deny the pain; it redefines it.

Verse 19 and 20:

“So Rachel died, and she was buried on the way to Ephrath (that is, Bethlehem), and Jacob set up a pillar over her tomb. It is the pillar of Rachel’s tomb, which is there to this day.”

Now don’t miss this. Rachel, she dies on the way — not at the destination, not at the place they were heading…And listen, Jacob stops, he builds a monument, and he buries her there.

This is the part of the passage where the weight kind of settles in, right? Jacob’s obedience to God, it didn’t spare him from loss — but it gave him a place to worship in the midst of that loss.

He sets up a pillar — a marker. Not to idolize the pain, but to memorialize God’s faithfulness through it.

He’s saying, “Even here — on the road, in the valley, between Bethel and Bethlehem — God’s still worthy.”

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Listen, can I just say this? — some of you need to build a pillar today. Not a literal one, but a spiritual one. A place in your story where you say, “This season hurt. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t choose it. But I’m marking this as the place God met me.”

Because too many of us, we try to move past the pain without ever worshiping through it. We rush to get out of the season instead of learning to see God in it.

Jacob doesn’t skip the funeral. He doesn’t run past the grief. He stops and he sets up a pillar.

What pillar have you refused to build? What loss have you refused to grieve? What pain have you refused to let God redeem?

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Verse 21:

“Israel journeyed on and pitched his tent beyond the tower of Eder (Ed-der).”

I love that transition — “Israel journeyed on.”

Notice, it doesn’t say Jacob journeyed on; it says Israel. This is the man with a new name, the man with a new identity, a man who’s walked with God, who bears the scars to prove it.

You see what’s happening? Even in the face of death, God’s work in him hasn’t stopped. The story, it just keeps moving forward.

Rachel’s gone. The pain’s real. But Israel journeys on…Because listen, grief is a season, not a sentence. Suffering is real, but it’s not final.

And that’s what some of us need to hear this morning: You can’t stay stuck at the gravesite forever. Yes, we weep. Yes, we grieve. But by God’s grace — we journey on. Not because the pain disappears, but because the promise remains.

Listen, there was a missionary couple from the early 1900s — David and Svea (Sa-ve-a) Flood — they left Sweden to preach the gospel in the Congo. Svea (Sa-ve-a) died of malaria after giving birth to their daughter. And listen, David who was crushed by grief, he walked away from the mission field completely. He blamed God for his loss.

But years later, that little girl — Aina (I-na) — she grew up, and she became a missionary herself, and she returned to Africa… only to find that the entire village her mom had died trying to reach for the gospel, they had all come to Christ.

The pain of life’s seasons can blind us to what God’s still doing. But just because we can’t see the promise doesn’t mean God stopped keeping it.

So again, here’s the question for us this morning: how do you handle the painful seasons of life? When the joy of Bethel turns into the sorrow of Bethlehem — how do you respond?

Do you get bitter? Do you blame God? Do you name your season Ben-oni (Ben-no-ny) and live like it’s always gonna be sorrow?

Or listen, do you — by faith — rename it Benjamin and say, “God, I don’t understand it, but I trust You in it.”

Because listen to me: The same God who was faithful at Bethel, He’s still faithful on the road to Bethlehem. The same God who met you in worship, He’ll meet you in your weeping. The same hand that blesses you on the mountaintop, it’ll hold you in the valley.

You might not see it now — but every tear, every loss, every painful season, it’s not wasted. God’s faithfulness endures through every season.

And so maybe today, it’s time to stop trying to get back to Bethel — and instead, start trusting Him right where you are on the road. Because He’s not just the God of mountaintop moments — He’s the God who walks with you between Bethel and Bethlehem.

Amen?

II. The Pollution of Sin’s Presence (v. 22)

Point number 2…the pollution of sin’s presence.

Look at verse 22 with me again:

“While Israel lived in that land, Reuben went and lay with Bilhah (Bill-Hah) his father’s concubine. And Israel heard of it.”

Listen, one verse. But it’s a devastating verse. It feels like a crash landing.

Jacob, he’s just buried Rachel, the love of his life. He’s obeyed God, he returned to Bethel, he built an altar, renewed his faith. Again, it feels like momentum — like maybe, finally, things are stabilizing for his family.

And then—this.

Right in the middle of obedience and blessing, sin rears its ugly head again.

Guys, understand this…sin corrupts even the covenant family.

It’s crazy that Moses doesn’t hide this moment. He doesn’t soften it. He just says it as plainly as possible: “Reuben went and lay with Bilhah (Bill-Hah) his father’s concubine.”

Now for those that haven’t been with us this whole time, Bilhah (Bill-hah) was Rachel’s servant, she was the mother of two of Jacob’s sons. And so, this act isn’t just immoral—it’s unthinkable. And listen, it’s more than just lust.

In the culture of that day, to sleep with your father’s concubine, it was a declaration of dominance. This was a power grab.

Reuben, he’s saying here, “I want control. I’ll take what’s mine. I’ll decide who leads.”…This isn’t just a moral failure — it’s rebellion against his father’s authority and against God’s order.

And remember who Reuben is — he’s the firstborn of Israel, the one who should’ve inherited blessing. This isn’t a pagan outsider. This is the leader of the covenant household.

And that’s the first sobering truth here: sin doesn’t only live “out there.” It’s alive “in here.” It creeps into the tents of God’s people. It whispers in the hearts of those who should know better.

William Philip he said, “Sin doesn’t vanish when grace enters your life; it only becomes more subtle when you think it has.”

Guys, even the redeemed family isn’t immune to sin’s reach.

Jacob’s house proves that. They’ve worshiped. They’ve built an altar. They’ve renewed covenant — and yet sin still strikes.

That’s the tension of the Christian life: redeemed, but still resisting.

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But listen, we also see here that sin defiles whatever it touches.

Look at the next phrase: “And Israel heard of it.”

That’s all it says. There’s no commentary, no reaction, no confrontation. Just silence. But I think that silence speaks volumes. Because sin always leaves a stain. And when those who lead God’s people ignore it, that stain spreads.

Reuben’s act wasn’t just personal — it polluted the household. It defiled the name of Israel.

In Genesis 49, on his deathbed, Jacob told him:

“Reuben, you are my firstborn, my might… but unstable as water, you shall not have preeminence, because you went up to your father’s bed; then you defiled it.” (Gen. 49:3–4)

That word defiled is key. It means “to make unclean, to profane something sacred.” Sin always does that. It always reaches farther than we think it will. What starts in secret always ends in sorrow. Sin never stays in its lane. It spreads, corrupting joy, and peace, and fellowship.

You may think, “It’s just my private struggle.” But sin’s never private. It pollutes what it touches. It dulls your worship, it distances you from God, it damages those around you.

As John Calvin said, “There’s nothing so small in sin that it doesn’t drag us toward ruin, if not resisted.”

Which is kind of another point we see here in this verse, sin hidden is sin strengthened.

Notice again: “Israel heard of it.” Jacob knew. But he didn’t act, right?

And that’s often where we fail as well. We hear. We know. We feel conviction. But we stay silent. We talked about that a couple weeks ago.

Maybe its out of fear, maybe out of shame, maybe out of weariness — but silence is never neutral. Because sin left unaddressed, it doesn’t weaken itself; it hardens.

Reuben’s act, it would echo through generations. It disqualified him from leadership, it divided his family, it damaged his father’s heart.

And listen, unconfessed sin today, it’ll always do the same — it eats you from the inside out.

That’s why John Owen warned, “Be killing sin, or it will be killing you.”

We oftentimes think sin’s safest when its hidden. But sin thrives in the dark. That’s why Scripture calls us into the light.

1 John 1:7 says, “If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin.”

Light doesn’t just expose sin; it heals what sin’s harmed.

Which is the good news of the of the gospel…it offers purity amid pollution.

And we see that in this story as well…because right in the middle of all this ugliness — God’s covenant story doesn’t stop.

It’s almost shocking that Moses doesn’t dwell on Reuben’s sin any longer. But listen, the reason for that, its because the main focus here, its not Reuben’s rebellion; it’s God’s relentless grace.

Even here, God’s faithfulness, it keeps moving forward. He doesn’t abandon Jacob’s household. He doesn’t cancel His covenant. Because while sin pollutes, it can’t poison the promises of God.

Romans 5:20 says, “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.”

Now that doesn’t minimize sin — it just magnifies grace. It means that no defilement is deeper than the cleansing blood of Christ.

Reuben’s sin, it stained the story, but it didn’t stop it. Because a greater Son — born from this same broken line — would come one day to bear that defilement Himself.

The Son of God entered a polluted world to make it clean.

Hebrews 9:14 says, “How much more will the blood of Christ… purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God.”

That’s the hope Reuben didn’t see — but you and I, we do. Sin may be present, but grace is purer still.

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And so listen, what do we do with this one, difficult, hard verse?

First — Don’t underestimate sin’s reach. Even in a godly home, even in a renewed heart, sin can still strike. Don’t drop your guard.

Second — Don’t ignore what God exposes. Jacob heard what had happened and he stayed silent. Don’t do the same. Confession brings cleansing; concealment brings corrosion.

And third — Don’t forget grace still purifies. The stain of sin is real, but the blood of Jesus runs deeper.

William Philip writes, “God’s grace isn’t fragile. It’s fierce — strong enough to wade into the filth and bring life where death reigned.”

That’s our hope.

Sin pollutes, yes — but Christ still purifies. And even when we fall, His faithfulness never fades.

III. The Promise of God’s Faithfulness (vv. 23-29)

Which brings us to our last point…the promise of God’s faithfulness.

Look back with me at verse 23 — because after all that’s happened — after death, after sin, after grief, failure — what we get next is this quiet little list of names.

Verse 23 says, “Now the sons of Jacob were twelve.”

Now, if you’re reading too quickly here, you might just skip right past that. But don’t. Because that verse — that one simple sentence — its shouting something to us about the heart of God.

You see, despite everything that’s just unfolded — Rachel’s death, Reuben’s sin, decades of deception, dysfunction, heartbreak — God’s promise still stands. The covenant family, they’re still complete. Twelve sons. The very twelve that would become the tribes of Israel.

And that’s not an accident. That’s God’s grace.

It’s as if God’s saying to Jacob — “Even though your story’s been messy, My mercy’s still moving. Even though sin polluted the camp, and even though death broke your heart, and even though sorrow marked your journey — the promise I made to Abraham, to Isaac, to you — it’s still alive.”

Because listen, God’s faithfulness isn’t fragile. It doesn’t crack under pressure. It doesn’t fade when life does. It endures — through every season, every failure, every funeral.

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Look at how the text continues in verse 27: “And Jacob came to his father Isaac at Mamre, or Hebron where Abraham and Isaac had sojourned.”

Now pause there — because this is pretty awesome.

Jacob finally comes home. After all these years of wandering, and running, and wrestling — he returns to the same place where his father and grandfather had walked with God.

That’s covenant persistence. That’s God keeping His word generation after generation. You see, God had promised Jacob back in Genesis 28, “I will bring you back to this land.” And now, here he is — home again. Bruised, scarred, but kept.

Every step along the way — from Bethel to Bethlehem, from Paddan-aram to Hebron — God’s been faithful to bring His servant home.

And that’s a picture of grace, right? Because that’s what God does with us. He takes wanderers and He brings them home. He takes those who’ve strayed and He restores them to promise. He takes broken stories — and He finishes ‘em in faithfulness.

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Verse 28 says, “Now the days of Isaac were 180 years. And Isaac breathed his last, and he died and was gathered to his people, old and full of days. And his sons Esau and Jacob buried him.”

Can you see the beauty in that? Isaac’s death, its not described as tragedy — it’s described as fulfillment. He was “gathered to his people, old and FULL of days.” That’s covenant language — a peaceful ending under the faithful hand of God.

And notice who’s standing together at the graveside — Esau and Jacob. The two brothers who once warred against each other, they’re now standing side by side. Reconciliation. Restoration. That’s not coincidence — that’s grace at work again.

Even in death, God’s writing redemption into the story.

It’s like the whole chapter — the pain of Rachel’s death, the pollution of Reuben’s sin, the promise continuing through twelve sons — it all culminates right here, with an aged patriarch being “gathered to his people” and the next generation standing ready to carry the promise forward.

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And so what’s all this mean for us today?

Listen, no matter what changes in life — who dies, who sins, who fails, who leaves — God’s faithfulness doesn’t change.

Jacob’s story is proof that divine promises don’t depend on human perfection. They depend on divine perseverance.

The covenant doesn’t crumble when people do. Because the God who makes promises is the God who keeps promises.

Psalm 119:90 says, “Your faithfulness endures to all generations; You have established the earth, and it stands fast.”

Guys, that’s what Genesis 35 is showing us — that the faithfulness of God is older than Jacob’s grief, its stronger than Reuben’s sin, and its longer than Isaac’s life.

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And listen — this same promise, it still stands for you and me today. Because through this broken family — the promise of a Redeemer kept moving forward. From Jacob came Judah, and from Judah came Jesus — the true Son of the Promise.

The One who entered our pain, who bore our pollution, who fulfilled every single promise. Jesus is the proof that God’s faithfulness doesn’t just endure through the story — it is the story.

When your life feels like Genesis 35 — when joy and sorrow, or sin and grace, or life and loss are all tangled together — remember this: God’s promise is never undone. His faithfulness is still unfolding.

He’s the same God who met Jacob at Bethel, who carried him through Bethlehem, who brought him home to Hebron — and He’s the same God who will carry you as well.

Because the covenant-keeping God of Genesis 35, He’s also the cross-bearing Savior of the gospel — and listen, His faithfulness endures from the first cry, to the final breath.

Closing

And so listen, as we close this morning, let’s come back to what we’ve seen in Jacob’s story — the pain of life’s seasons, the pollution of sin’s presence, the promise of God’s faithfulness.

Because maybe for you, that’s not just Jacob’s story — it’s yours. You know what it’s like to walk that road between Bethel and Bethlehem — to feel joy and sorrow holding hands. Maybe you’ve buried something or someone precious. Maybe you’re carrying a grief you didn’t choose, a loss that still lingers. And you’ve wondered, “God, are You still here? Are You still good?”

Guys, hear this: He is.

The same God who met Jacob in worship at Bethel, He walked with him through heartbreak on the road — and He hasn’t changed. His faithfulness doesn’t falter when life does.

So maybe this morning, your step of faith, its simply to trust Him again right there in the in-between — to say, “God, I don’t see the whole picture, but I believe You’re still keeping Your promise.” Maybe for you, it’s time to build a pillar — to mark this moment and say, “This season hurt, but God met me here.” Don’t rush past the pain — invite God into it.

Or maybe what’s standing out to you today isn’t Rachel’s grave, but Reuben’s sin — that hidden thing that’s been quietly polluting your heart. Maybe God’s been whispering, “It’s time to bring it into the light.” Not to shame you, but to cleanse you. To set you free.

Listen, sin loses its grip when it’s confessed. Don’t carry what Jesus already died to forgive.

For those of you who already belong to Him — maybe this is your moment to worship again in the middle of whatever season you’re in. To say, “God, You’ve been faithful in my past; You’ll be faithful in my future. So I’m trusting You today.”

Because that’s what Genesis 35 reminds us of: The pain is real. The sin is real. But His promise — His faithfulness — is more real still.

Or listen, maybe you’re here, and if you’re honest, you’ve never really known this God who’s faithful through every season. You’ve heard about Him, maybe even believed in Him — but you’ve never surrendered to Him.

Guys, listen to me — this same faithful God sent His Son, Jesus, to walk the road you could never walk, to bear your sin, to take on your sorrow, to die your death, to rise again so that you could live. That’s what the cross is — the ultimate proof that God’s promises don’t die in the dark.

Romans 5:8 says, “But God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” That’s grace — not you earning your way to Him, but Him stepping down to rescue you.

And so, maybe today’s the day you stop running. Maybe today’s the day you say, “Lord, I need that kind of faithfulness in my life.” You can call out to Him right now — right where you are — and He’ll hear you. The Bible says, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

And so listen, our praise team’s gonna come and as they do that, if you would go ahead and just bow your head and close your eyes with me for just a moment?

Guys, I want us to take some time this morning to be still before God — to reflect, to confess, to trust, to worship. I want you to be serious in this.

And then, once you’ve had time to do that, I’ll close us in prayer and dismiss us…but you take this time to respond to the Word of God and to the Spirit of God. Amen? You come!

[Prayer]