The Covenant Sign
Brokenness, Grace, and the God Who Sees
January 19, 2026
"I am God Almighty; walk before me faithfully and be blameless."
— Genesis 17:1 (NIV)
As I journey again through Genesis, I find myself struck by an uncomfortable theme: the intertwining of human brokenness with divine faithfulness. The patriarchal narratives do not present sanitized heroes but deeply flawed men and women through whom God, in His extraordinary patience, works out His redemptive purposes. These ancient stories reveal both the depth of our fallen nature and the heights of God's grace—a grace extending to every nation and every wandering stranger.
Abraham, Hagar, and the Failure of Faith
Abraham received one of Scripture's most magnificent promises: "I will make you into a great nation... and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you" (Genesis 12:2-3). Yet as the promise lingered unfulfilled, trust wavered. Sarah and Abram sought to manufacture fulfillment themselves, turning to Hagar—an Egyptian servant, a foreigner, an immigrant—and using her as an instrument for their own ends.
We must pause to consider Hagar's position. She was a woman with no voice, no power, no choice—doubly marginalized as a woman and as a foreigner. The exploitation she suffered at the hands of the family chosen to bless all nations stands as a sobering indictment of what our fallen nature produces even among the elect.
After Ishmael's birth, Scripture records a striking silence: God does not speak to Abram for thirteen years. When Yahweh finally appears, His words cut to the heart: "Walk before me faithfully and be blameless." The Hebrew tamim—whole, complete—echoes the description of Noah, who "walked faithfully with God" (Genesis 6:9). God was calling Abram back to righteousness.
The God Who Sees the Immigrant
Meanwhile, the abuse Hagar suffered led her to flee into the wilderness—a pregnant woman, alone, vulnerable. It is here we encounter one of Scripture's most tender moments. The angel of the Lord found her and spoke to her directly—something extraordinary in the ancient world.
"She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: 'You are the God who sees me,' for she said, 'I have now seen the One who sees me.'"
— Genesis 16:13 (NIV)
El Roi—the God who sees. This Egyptian immigrant, exploited and cast aside by the family of promise, becomes the first person in Scripture to give God a name. A foreign woman with no standing encountered the living God in her distress, and He responded with compassion. The God of Abraham was also the God of Hagar—the God who hears the cry of the immigrant, the outcast, the forgotten.
The Sign of the Covenant
It is precisely here—after the failure with Hagar, after thirteen years of silence—that God institutes circumcision as the covenant sign. The significance cannot be overlooked. God commanded the cutting of the very flesh used in the act of exploitation. This was not arbitrary; it was deeply meaningful—a sign of consecration, a physical reminder that the promised seed would come through divine intervention, not human scheming.
The Covenant Sign Perverted
Fast forward two generations. Dinah, daughter of Jacob, was violated by Shechem. What followed reveals the terrible capacity of the human heart to twist sacred things into weapons. When Shechem came to negotiate marriage, Jacob's sons—Simeon and Levi—demanded all the men of the city be circumcised. The men agreed, and "while all of them were still in pain, two of Jacob's sons... attacked the unsuspecting city, killing every male" (Genesis 34:25).
The very sign of God's covenant—intended to mark a people set apart for blessing—became an instrument of massacre. A family destined to bring reconciliation to all peoples brought slaughter instead. Jacob pronounced judgment on his deathbed: "Simeon and Levi are brothers—their swords are weapons of violence... Cursed be their anger, so fierce!" (Genesis 49:5, 7).
Notably absent is Dinah's voice. We never hear her speak. The biblical author records this painful reality not to endorse it but to expose it—inviting us to grieve what sin has wrought and to long for God's restoration.
Why Scripture Shows Us This Brokenness
This reflection is not criticism of the patriarchs but engagement with the text as the biblical author presents it. Scripture does not hide the failures of its heroes; it displays them plainly. Why? I believe the sacred authors draw our attention to such discomfort for two purposes: that we might understand the heart of God—His patience, His mercy, His persistent love—and that we might learn to walk blamelessly before Him.
"Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; love and faithfulness go before you."
— Psalm 89:14 (NIV)
The same King whose throne rests on righteousness extends beautiful mercies and forgiveness. He works through and in our brokenness to make us whole. This is the paradox of grace.
Paul and the Circumcision of the Heart
The sign of circumcision became much debated in the early church. As Gentiles came to faith in Messiah Yeshua, Jewish believers wrestled with fundamental questions: Must these new believers bear the covenant sign?
Paul received a revolutionary insight: "A person is not a Jew who is one only outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical. No, a person is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit" (Romans 2:28-29). The outward cutting means nothing if the heart remains unchanged. What God always desired was internal transformation.
This was not new but fulfillment of what Moses prophesied: "The Lord your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart" (Deuteronomy 30:6). To the Galatians, Paul declared: "Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision means anything; what counts is the new creation" (Galatians 6:15).
The new covenant in Yeshua demands a higher standard—transformation from within by the Spirit. And this Gospel is for Jew and Gentile alike: "Through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body" (Ephesians 3:6). The dividing wall is demolished. Those once "foreigners to the covenants of the promise" have been "brought near by the blood of Christ" (Ephesians 2:12-13).
The War Within and the Grace That Empowers
Here we arrive at a profound truth: as long as we inhabit these earthly bodies, the born-again believer will experience an internal war. Paul testified: "I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing... Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Romans 7:19, 24-25).
But this is not cause for despair—it is cause for dependence. The struggle is by design. Our victory does not come through willpower alone but through the empowering grace of God working in us. "Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose" (Philippians 2:12-13). Our effort and God's grace are partners. Our response in partnership with the Spirit brings Heaven's will to earth—His heart, His goodness in us, around us, and for others.
A Prayer for Blameless Walking
O Faithful Father,
You are El Roi—the God who sees the immigrant, the outcast, the forgotten.
Circumcise our hearts by Your Spirit,
that we may walk before You faithfully and be blameless.
Work in us and through us to bring Your blessing to all nations,
and may we never twist Your sacred gifts into weapons of our own making.
In Jesus' name,
Amen.
Shalom & thoughts this morning,
Dr. Sam Kurien
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