‘Jacob I Loved’: The Heart Behind Election

Written on 03/17/2026
Greg Morse

An oil painting hangs in my dining room of a shepherd looking after his sheep outside a great city. It reminds me of my life’s charge from my Lord. Anyone who walks into that room sees it. Recently, I asked two of those who often have seen it to describe the painting hanging behind them — without taking a cheating glance. Both squinted, pupils darting to and fro, trying to recall what they had seen, or at least glanced at, countless times. Familiarity had robbed them of seeing what they looked at. They couldn’t recall much.

The eyes of our hearts struggle with the same blindness. The first time we see spiritual glories, we stand amazed. But what about now? Does God’s masterpiece of the cross still move us? Must we squint to recall it? At the beginning of Malachi, our God would not have his heart be forgotten: “I have loved you” (Malachi 1:2).

Linger a moment. This declaration is yours through faith in God’s Son. Really stare this time.

Draw near, imperfect child, and hear: I have loved you. Draw near, busy believer, and pause: I have loved you. Draw near, confused and weary and distant heart, and consider: I have loved you. He doesn’t want you over there; he wants you here. Do not allow this to go unfelt another moment. Gather all your life in Christ right now under this banner: “I have loved you.”

For those who will meditate upon this declaration, what question does it not answer? What problem or malady or anxiety does it not touch? Here is the sun that brightens all lands and warms every flower. What shadows can stand before it? What can God say that causes us more wonder than this: “I have loved you”?

Another Wonder

Yet the verse goes on to another wonder that astounds in a different way. “But you say,” continues our Lord to his people, “How have you loved us?” (Malachi 1:2).

God declares, “I have loved you!” The people doubt — how?

They ask not to count the innumerable ways, to list all the stars in the heavens. Instead, they wonder aloud if they can discover any ways. Are there really any constellations of his love? They couldn’t see any. They ask suspiciously, mistrustfully, How has he loved us? Our God quotes this response back to them; he witnesses how their lives, their hearts, their speech, their disobedience all stand cross-armed, questioning his steadfast love. “I have loved you,” says the Lord. “How have you loved us?” ask his people.

Have you asked this recently?

Everywhere in Scripture, in his everyday goodness, in the gospel of his grace, God pronounces: I have loved you. Yet you, living in the masterpiece of his mercies, wonder, How?

Isn’t it a horror for redeemed hearts to ask this? I hate when I do. It is one thing for the older son in the parable to complain about his father’s care, grumbling that he hasn’t even been given a goat to celebrate with his friends. But is it not another thing for the true believer — the younger brother — to return home from reckless living to a running, embracing, celebrating father, only to respond a month later, when that father whispers, “I love you,” with a doubting look and a cynical question, “How have you loved me?

Love Offended

How would you expect God to respond? How might you respond?

Perhaps you’ve seen those marriage proposals during sporting events. I remember turning red with embarrassment for one man who, at the halftime of a professional basketball game, mustered the courage to ask his girlfriend to marry him, on court, in front of everyone. She refused him.

Players on the court held back laughter. The denial was humiliating, but it was not unjust. The woman ran off the court without being arrested. Such is not the case with God. Justice is at stake when we question his love. It is a high crime not to treasure him, honor him, thank him, to wonder at half-court in front of a watching cosmos: You say you love me, really? How have you loved me?

For God to set his love upon you in the first place involves unfathomable condescension. Satan certainly does not understand it; it disgusts him. It cost the curse-bearing of his Son to even achieve it. It is the highest offense for us to question that love, reject that love. Paul, contemplating the God-refuser, declares an imprecation: “If anyone has no love for the Lord, let him be accursed” (1 Corinthians 16:22)! Such is the voice of justice. So, again, the question: How would you expect God to respond?

Love Reminded

God’s answer perplexes us: “Is not Esau Jacob’s brother?” What does that mean? Does this answer sound familiar?

Perhaps the rest of the quote will jog the memory:

“Is not Esau Jacob’s brother?” declares the Lord. “Yet I have loved Jacob but Esau I have hated. I have laid waste his hill country and left his heritage to jackals of the desert.” (Malachi 1:2–3)

Some today refuse the doctrine of election because it raises questions about God’s love. Yet in the famous passage quoted by Paul in Romans 9:13, God’s election answers questions about God’s love.

I have loved you.

How have you loved us?

I chose you, Jacob, and refused your twin brother, Esau. His inheritance is strewn out in the wilderness with jackals, but yours is a covenant with a kingdom. You did not deserve this, but I chose you in love.

God’s choosing you, Christian, should not make you bashful or apologetic or downcast. It should answer those unruly remarks of your heart that forget the oil painting of God’s love hanging over you. Much that is sad and desperate might fill your life, but read again the caption over you: “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

Did he call you to follow him? Did he fill you with his Spirit? Did he make you aware of your sin, and with it, your Savior? Does his Spirit not bear witness with your spirit that you are a child of God? Are there no evidences of his grace in your life? Do you not love the brothers, your new family? I don’t ask if you are perfect — we all know that answer — but are you purchased?

If so, what distinguishes you from your earthly brother? Your father? From your classmates and coworkers? Are you smarter? Are you better? More deserving? How did you come by the knowledge of how to be saved? Why did you believe it when it came to you? What makes you different from millions of others who have rejected Christ?

God’s choice. Jesus still says to his disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16).

He Chose You

Here is the doctrine of election to warm your heart today, to kill all murmurings against his love — “Is not Esau Jacob’s brother?” Same father. Same mother. Same day of birth. Yet before they had done anything good or evil, God set his love on Jacob (Romans 9:10–12). In the same way, born-again believer, before you were born, he chose you. Before you did anything, he elected you. After you had sinned yourself past hope, he came for you. You. Why you? Because through his Son, he loved you.

Doubt no more. He knew you before he hung the sun in the sky. He planned to paint the masterpiece of his Son hanging on a cross to save you. How has he loved us? He chose us in Christ.