The Church Fathers on this verse

Genesis 23:18Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Was made sure to Abraham for a possession, in the sight of the children of Heth, and of all that went in at the gate of his city.

Douay-Rheims

לְאַבְרָהָ֥ם לְמִקְנָ֖ה לְעֵינֵ֣י בְנֵי־חֵ֑ת בְּכֹ֖ל בָּאֵ֥י שַֽׁעַר־עִירֽוֹ׃

Hebrew (Masoretic text)

The Church Fathers on this verse

One Church Father comments on this verse

Dimitri of Rostov

17th centuryChurch Father

Righteous Abraham, who journeyed through the land that God promised to him and his descendants, lacked a permanent dwelling place. As the holy first martyr Stephen pointed out to the Jews, "God has delivered him (Abraham) into this land, in which you now dwell, and has not given him an inheritance in it, nor a footstool" (Acts 7:4-5). Abraham was unconcerned with securing a home but traveled continuously across lands and cities, living among strangers in a foreign territory, finding satisfaction only in God's Providence. When he sought a burial site for his loved ones, he opted to purchase a plot at a price rather than accept land from foreigners, desiring a place where he, Sarah, and their children could rest.

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From this, we can derive two important lessons: first, that our earthly existence is a pilgrimage, with the grave serving as a homeland for our bodies; and second, that all we possess in this life is ultimately foreign to us, as the grave is the only true possession we have, where we shall return to dust.

The transitory nature of our lives resembles a journey, as not every person ages in the place of their birth. Someone may be born in the east but dwell in the west, and vice versa. Life itself reflects this wandering, continuously moving through different stages—from childhood to youth, then to maturity, and finally to old age. Each hour brings a change, and even when it seems the sun stands still in the heavens, it is in reality moving swiftly, much like our lives. Although it may appear that human life is stationary, it flows ceaselessly, unlike the sun in Joshua’s time, which "stood in the midst of heaven, and would not go westward soon at the fulfilment of one day" (Hab. 10:13). Our existence never pauses; it rushes on, often unnoticed, fleeting as a traveler glimpsed momentarily before disappearing.

Moreover, our lives are like journeys due to the instability of our fortunes. Today one may be affluent, tomorrow a beggar; one may feel joyful today and sorrowful the next. Life is akin to a traveler passing cities, mountains, and beautiful landscapes, which, despite their allure, must ultimately be left behind. This fleeting nature is poignantly captured in the Wisdom of Solomon, stating, "What use is pride to us, or riches with greatness, what reward shall we receive? All these things pass away like a shadow, and like a tidings flowing, and like a ship passing through the waves of the waters, whose passage no foot can find, and like a bird flying through the air, whose paths no sign is found" (Prem. 5:8-13). Thus, David, in prayer, acknowledges, "I am a stranger and a sojourner with you, as all my fathers were" (Psalm 38:13). The holy Apostle Peter wisely advises, "Beloved, I urge you, as strangers and pilgrims, to abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul" (1 Pet. 2:11).

So, where is a mortal's true homeland? The tomb, the earth, and dust—these are the physical homeland of our bodies, as God decreed, "Earth you are, and to earth you shall return" (Gen. 3:19). Just as the righteous soul returns to God, its Creator, upon leaving the body, the body itself, born of the earth, finds its way back there as well. Thus, St. John the Theologian, preparing for his own burial, instructed his disciples, "Having drawn the earth, my mother, cover me." If even such a holy figure recognized the earth as the rightful resting place for his body, calling it his mother, what should we sinful beings conclude? Should we not return to that mother, the earth, and accept the grave as our true homeland?

What awaits us there? Nothing but decay and worms, as Sirach notes: "When man dies, he shall inherit creeping things, and beasts, and worms" (Sirach 10:13). Since our lives are a pilgrimage and our tomb is truly our homeland, everything else we hold is merely temporary and foreign. Like Abraham, who lived in Canaan as a wanderer with only a purchased cave to call his own, we too find no true ownership in this world. A traveler headed to distant lands claims no place as his own; he carries just the essentials, longing only to reach his destination.

Similarly, in the journey of life, our dwellings are mere shelters for a time; our belongings are fleeting, intended for use but never truly ours, as they are only temporarily entrusted to us. If we align our lives with God, simple needs like daily bread and clothing suffice as we seek a life eternal with Christ. People often cling to material possessions, desiring homes and wealth, yet it is crucial to realize that these are, in truth, ephemeral. In reality, everything we seem to possess will eventually slip through our fingers and belong to others.

Consider this: while you may claim ownership of your house now, will you reside there eternally? Might you not be ejected during your lifetime or taken out for burial? Possessions, fields, and riches will change hands, either through force or upon your passing. You may amass gold, silver, and treasures, but can you be sure that they will remain secure from theft or destruction? Even should you retain them all, the day will come when death claims you, leaving you devoid of everything, with only minimal burial attire. For when a man dies, he forsakes all, and his glory descends with him (Psalm 48:18). "They shall fall asleep in their sleep, and shall find nothing in their hands for all men of riches. They shall leave their riches to strangers," the Psalmist reminds us (Psalms 75:6 and 48:11). Truly, what is here is not ours but belongs to another.

You may assert, "All that I possess is mine while I live," yet I tell you, even though you may own it temporarily, you brought nothing into this world nor will you carry anything out. Even your garments are borrowed from nature; your very wealth rests in the earth's depths or may be gained through unrighteous means. We enter this world naked and shall depart in the same state. So, what is genuinely yours? Only the grave, your final resting place, as the Psalmist declares, "Their tombs shall be their dwelling places forever" (Psalm 48:12). There you shall reside without fear; no one will evict you. The decay of your body will share no envy, nor will anyone touch what is yours there—your own remains, not belonging to another.

Thus, the grave is indeed our rightful abode, while everything else remains transient. Recognizing this truth, we must continually contemplate our death and our eventual resting place. Just as Abraham purchased a burial site, we, through good works, ought to seek a merciful end from God—a honorable passing. If anyone longs for such a death, let him first experience a spiritual death to sin, preparing his mind to dwell within the cave of Christ's pierced side, remembering constantly Christ's passion and cross. Such a mindset ensures an honorable death before the Lord and a blessed conclusion to life.

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Passages read together with this verse.