By Maartje Skare

St. Augustine, in reflecting on certain perplexing biblical passages, famously wrote of Genesis: “This is not a lie, it is a mystery.”1 These words, particularly in reference to the narrative of Jacob receiving Isaac’s blessing through Rebekah’s intervention (Genesis 27), invite us to look deeper. Rather than seeing in this account a simple story of deception—of a mother scheming in favour of one son over another—we are drawn, through the lens of typology and the light of Christ, into a profound mystery that touches the very heart of salvation history.

When we read this passage with a Marian lens, new dimensions of meaning emerge—ones that move beyond the historical and moral levels to a spiritual and mystical depth. This ancient family drama becomes a revelation of how God’s promise, fulfilled in Christ, is extended to the least expected: to us, the Gentiles, and to all who live under the New Covenant.


In Genesis, Isaac stands as the bearer of God’s covenant with Abraham—“through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed” (Genesis 22:18). This promise is not merely about territory or posterity; it is ultimately Christological. As Jesus explained to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures” (Luke 24:27). Every iota, every event, every person, finds fulfillment in Him (cf. Matthew 5:18).

Thus, Isaac is more than a patriarch—he is a prefiguration of God the Father, the One who blesses. In this light, Jacob becomes an image of the redeemed soul or even of Christ Himself, and Rebekah, who orchestrates the entire encounter, emerges as a type of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Rebekah is not acting merely from maternal preference. From the very beginning, she is told by God: “the older shall serve the younger” (Genesis 25:23). She acts in faith, cooperating with the divine plan, much like Mary who, upon hearing the angel’s word, says, “Let it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). Rebekah’s actions are mysterious, not deceitful, and they prefigure Mary’s maternal mediation in the economy of salvation.

Just as Rebekah dresses Jacob in the garments of his older brother to make him acceptable to Isaac, so Mary clothes her children in the virtues and promises of the Old Covenant—fulfilled and transfigured in Christ. The garments of Esau represent all that was good and true in the Law: the love of God and neighbour, the worship of the one true God, the promise of the Messiah. Mary, “born under the Law” (Galatians 4:4), lived it perfectly and now helps us to wear it rightly under the New Covenant.

Jacob, the younger son, is emblematic of the Gentiles—those who were not originally part of the covenant, the “wild olive branch” grafted into the cultivated tree (Romans 11:17). Esau, the firstborn, stands for Israel according to the flesh, the people of the first covenant. The scandal of the story lies in the unexpected: the blessing is given not to the expected heir, but to the one who comes second.

This typology is consistent with the message of St. Paul: “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God—not from works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8–9). Jacob does not earn the blessing. He receives it clothed in the identity of another, carrying food he did not prepare, and speaking words given to him by his mother.

So too are we. We come before the Father bearing nothing of our own. As St. Thérèse of Lisieux expressed so poignantly, “I will appear before You with empty hands.” Yet Mary prepares us, clothes us, and gives us the food—Christ Himself—that we might be pleasing in the Father’s sight.

The mystery deepens when we consider the detail of Rebekah covering Jacob’s smooth skin with the hairy hides of a young goat (Genesis 27:16). This act, strange on the surface, becomes luminous in a Marian key. It symbolizes how Mary compensates for our lack. She does not merely clothe us with virtue; she hides our unworthiness with her maternal love, wrapping us in the merits of her Son and the riches of grace. She gives us the “food”—a figure of the Eucharist, the sacrifice of the Son—prepared in love, that we might have something to offer the Father.

And the Father, like Isaac, allows Himself to be “deceived” by the outward signs. He hears our voice, but He sees the garments—the righteousness of Christ and the goodness of the Law fulfilled in love. He receives us, blesses us, because we come not in our own name, but in the name of the Son, through the heart of the Mother.

In this mysterious narrative, we do not encounter a story of trickery, but a profound prefiguration of the Gospel. It is not merit, lineage, or strict observance of the Law that secures the blessing, but grace mediated through love. Rebekah’s role points us toward Mary, the New Eve, the faithful Bride and Mother of the Church, who prepares her children to receive the blessing of the Father.

St. Augustine was right: this is no lie—it is a mystery. A Marian mystery. One that reveals how the children of the New Covenant—though unworthy—are welcomed, clothed, and blessed through the maternal love of the one who always says, “Do whatever He tells you” (John 2:5).


Here’s an expanded reflection drawing from St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort’s True Devotion to Mary, illuminating how he applies the Genesis narrative of Isaac, Rebecca, Esau, and Jacob to Mary and our spiritual adoption:

In True Devotion to Mary (no. 183–184), Montfort introduces this ancient story as a scriptural type: “The Holy Spirit gives us in Sacred Scripture a striking allegorical figure… It is the story of Jacob who received the blessing of his father Isaac through the care and ingenuity of his mother Rebecca.” (ecatholic2000.com) He then recounts the scene in detail—Rebecca dressing Jacob in Esau’s clothes, covering him with goat skins, and bringing the meal to Isaac—all so Jacob might receive the blessing destined for Esau. (montfort.org.uk)

In section 185, Montfort explicitly draws the typology: “…according to the early Fathers… Jacob is the type of Our Lord and of souls who are saved, and Esau is the type of souls who are condemned.”  Jacob represents the predestined—those who remain united to Mary, while Esau stands for those who rely solely on worldly strength. Montfort continues: Esau “never… went out of his way to please his mother Rebecca” and “sold his birthright for a dish of lentils”—a figure of sinners who depend on their own strength or the world alone. 

Montfort sees in Rebecca’s actions a reflection of Mary’s motherly mediation. Just as Rebecca intercedes and prepares Isaac’s blessing for the younger son, Montfort teaches that Mary mediates the blessings of grace to us. She clothes us in the merits of Christ and “covers” our unworthiness with her virtues. Although Montfort doesn’t quote this image verbatim in those opening verses, his later reflections make the parallel unmistakable:

  • Rebecca’s care and tender strategy = Mary’s maternal care and mediation.
  • Jacob’s dependency = our dependence on Mary as our guide and advocate.
  • Esau’s worldly weakness = souls relying on their own strength, devoid of Mary’s help.

Montfort builds on this typology throughout True Devotion:

  • He identifies the marks of true devotion—trust, dependence, interior life—as characteristic of Jacob (the predestined). (truechristianity.info)
  • He contrasts them with the false devotion of Esau: external, worldly, self-reliant. 
  • Importantly, he portrays Mary in Rebecca’s mold: tender, protective, interceding, clothing her children with grace and preparing them interiorly before presenting them to God. 

Thus, the narrative functions as a Marian allegory: Mary as Rebecca, we as Jacob, and God the Father as Isaac—with grace coming to us through Mary’s maternal intervention.

To bring this together, here are key quotations from Montfort’s True Devotion: “Jacob is the type of Our Lord and of souls who are saved, and Esau is the type of souls who are condemned.” Rebecca… secured this blessing for him by a holy stratagem full of mystery for us.” (montfort.org.uk) Those who are saved “have esteem for quietness, love the interior life… always remain in the company of the Blessed Virgin… they bring Mary their body and soul… symbolised by Jacob’s two young goats.” (truechristianity.info)


FigureMontfort’s TypologySpiritual Reality
RebeccaPrefigures MaryMediator, spiritual mother bringing us to God
JacobSaved soulsSouls with true devotion to Mary, under her protection
EsauUnsaved, worldlyReliant on self and worldly gains, lacks Mary’s mediation

St. Louis de Montfort’s reading of Genesis 27 richly enriches our understanding of Mary’s role. It is not just a quaint allegory—it is a scriptural “figure” (figura), divinely inspired and grounded in patristic tradition. Those who dismiss Mary, like Esau, forfeit both the spiritual birthright and the riches of interior communion with God. Those who embrace True Devotion learn to see themselves as Jacob: weak, dependent, yet clothed in the grace of Christ by Mary’s hands.


Citations:

  1. Augustine, De Genesi ad Litteram, Book X, ch. 18 (Latin: “Non mendacium sed mysterium”).
  2. The Holy Bible, various citations (Genesis 22:18; Genesis 25:23; Genesis 27; Luke 1:38; Luke 24:27; Matthew 5:18; Galatians 4:4; Romans 11:17; Ephesians 2:8–9; John 2:5).
  3. Catechism of the Catholic Church, §§489–493 (on Mary’s cooperation in salvation).
  4. St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Story of a Soul, Manuscript B.