One of my favorite things about the Bible is that, being the word of God, it is living and active. Unlike other books, it constantly has meaning pouring out even when we read the same text multiple times. What a gracious gift to us, that a book with a limited amount of words and pages has an unlimited wealth of wisdom, teaching, correction, training and rebuking for us. But sometimes I sleep on this truth and the many others that are tucked in the pages of my Bible. I grew up going to church and am quite familiar with many of the stories. I was often the winner of trivia games in Sunday school and took Wednesday night Bible jeopardy to the extreme. This familiarity with facts is often what leads to my dismissal of truth. I tell you this because I am about to speak on a story that I have heard my whole life, a man that most people are familiar with, and a chunk of scripture that I briefly thought about glossing over because I already knew the story.
I brought in 2020 with the book of Genesis. I felt in many ways that I needed a fresh start to bring myself back to the beginning. Going into it, I was aware of the temptation to believe that I already knew what this book held. In some ways, I did. I knew that characters, the plot, and the theme. But I did not know how God would use those familiar faces in new ways.
Joseph. Son of Jacob and Rachel. One of eleven brothers. Chosen by God to rescue His people, betrayed by his own brothers. If you're not familiar with the story, you can find it in Genesis 37-50. My focus will be on chapters 42-45. To briefly summarize where chapter 41 starts, Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, was sold again to an officer of Pharaoh, was falsely accused and subsequently imprisoned, and then eventually found favor with Pharaoh by "decoding" his dream; thereby, saving/equipping Egypt to deal with an upcoming famine. After this, Joseph was essentially Pharaoh's right hand man. He held much power in Egypt and made many decisions for the nation. When the famine did come, it extended beyond Egypt to Canaan - where Jacob and his remaining eleven sons lived. Eventually, the famine pushed them to Egypt - who was well prepared as a result of Joseph's planning. When they came, Joseph's brothers were brought before him.
I always had a vision of Joseph being calm and collected before His brothers. Towering over them, hands on his hips, unrecognized by them, there lives dependent on his mercy towards them, jaw stiff, not a muscle twitches, his voice loud and strong as he ultimately does show them mercy.
But that's not the Joseph I read about. Instead, I read these words:
"He turned away from them and wept." - 42:24
"Joseph hurried out because he was overcome with emotion for his brother, and he was about to weep. He went into an inner room and wept there. Then he washed his face and came out. Regaining his composure, he said, 'Serve the meal.'" - 43:30-31
"Joseph could no longer keep his composure in front of all his attendants, so he called out, 'Send everyone away from me!' No one was with him when he revealed his identity to his brothers. But he wept so loudly that all the Egyptians heard it, and also Pharaoh's household heard it." - 45:1-2
"Joseph kissed each of his brothers as he wept" - 42:15
The story I read was not of a man with an iron jaw and booming voice, but of one with a lip that quivered and a voice that shook. And still, he showed an unwavering trust in the purposes of God.
More than ever before, I see the grace that soaks this story. Joseph spent decades waiting in a foreign land, with foreign people, under their foreign laws. Even after all that time, the hurt was not distant. It was just beneath the surface waiting to be exposed. I can imagine the sobs that escaped his throat and the sharp gasps for breath between them, the overwhelming emotion, the knot in his stomach and the hole in his chest, the tears pouring faster than they could be wiped, mingling with snot - a total mess of a man, no longer able to keep his composure.
I immediately take comfort in this because it is clear to me that the honoring of God in our hurt may not be that we step out of it and appear as if it never happened. Maybe the honor is in us walking away with a limp, yet showing mercy to others, grace to those who have hurt us, compassion on those who we feel offended by, kindness to those who may not return it, and forgiveness to those we feel don't deserve it. When the pain can be excruciating, but our peace still passes all understanding because our trust in God surpasses the injustices in this life.
What I see in Joseph is a person who has been deeply hurt, but also one who is kind, compassionate, and forgiving - even in the middle of the hurt. And I find so much hope in that. Because as the days turn to months and months into years, occasionally the tears still find me and I am also a total mess, no longer able to keep my composure. Most days, the hurt bubbles up to the surface and demands to be acknowledged in some way. The "easy" way out is to be bitter and angry, cynical, distrusting, guarded, aloof. To scowl at humanity and mutter under my breath, "You planned evil against me." But in His kindness, God whispers to me, "I planned it for good," a loving call to repentance. A push to choose a better way, to trust in Him and to look to Him every time the hurt bubbles up. To unclench my fist and hold His hand instead. To know that in His grace, I can be compassionate through tears. I can forgive. I can be gentle. I can be kind. Not because of me or my own good will, but because my hope and joy is in God alone and no injustice in my life can change His purposes.
Because He is good and I can trust Him.
I brought in 2020 with the book of Genesis. I felt in many ways that I needed a fresh start to bring myself back to the beginning. Going into it, I was aware of the temptation to believe that I already knew what this book held. In some ways, I did. I knew that characters, the plot, and the theme. But I did not know how God would use those familiar faces in new ways.
Joseph. Son of Jacob and Rachel. One of eleven brothers. Chosen by God to rescue His people, betrayed by his own brothers. If you're not familiar with the story, you can find it in Genesis 37-50. My focus will be on chapters 42-45. To briefly summarize where chapter 41 starts, Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, was sold again to an officer of Pharaoh, was falsely accused and subsequently imprisoned, and then eventually found favor with Pharaoh by "decoding" his dream; thereby, saving/equipping Egypt to deal with an upcoming famine. After this, Joseph was essentially Pharaoh's right hand man. He held much power in Egypt and made many decisions for the nation. When the famine did come, it extended beyond Egypt to Canaan - where Jacob and his remaining eleven sons lived. Eventually, the famine pushed them to Egypt - who was well prepared as a result of Joseph's planning. When they came, Joseph's brothers were brought before him.
I always had a vision of Joseph being calm and collected before His brothers. Towering over them, hands on his hips, unrecognized by them, there lives dependent on his mercy towards them, jaw stiff, not a muscle twitches, his voice loud and strong as he ultimately does show them mercy.
But that's not the Joseph I read about. Instead, I read these words:
"He turned away from them and wept." - 42:24
"Joseph hurried out because he was overcome with emotion for his brother, and he was about to weep. He went into an inner room and wept there. Then he washed his face and came out. Regaining his composure, he said, 'Serve the meal.'" - 43:30-31
"Joseph could no longer keep his composure in front of all his attendants, so he called out, 'Send everyone away from me!' No one was with him when he revealed his identity to his brothers. But he wept so loudly that all the Egyptians heard it, and also Pharaoh's household heard it." - 45:1-2
"Joseph kissed each of his brothers as he wept" - 42:15
The story I read was not of a man with an iron jaw and booming voice, but of one with a lip that quivered and a voice that shook. And still, he showed an unwavering trust in the purposes of God.
More than ever before, I see the grace that soaks this story. Joseph spent decades waiting in a foreign land, with foreign people, under their foreign laws. Even after all that time, the hurt was not distant. It was just beneath the surface waiting to be exposed. I can imagine the sobs that escaped his throat and the sharp gasps for breath between them, the overwhelming emotion, the knot in his stomach and the hole in his chest, the tears pouring faster than they could be wiped, mingling with snot - a total mess of a man, no longer able to keep his composure.
I immediately take comfort in this because it is clear to me that the honoring of God in our hurt may not be that we step out of it and appear as if it never happened. Maybe the honor is in us walking away with a limp, yet showing mercy to others, grace to those who have hurt us, compassion on those who we feel offended by, kindness to those who may not return it, and forgiveness to those we feel don't deserve it. When the pain can be excruciating, but our peace still passes all understanding because our trust in God surpasses the injustices in this life.
What I see in Joseph is a person who has been deeply hurt, but also one who is kind, compassionate, and forgiving - even in the middle of the hurt. And I find so much hope in that. Because as the days turn to months and months into years, occasionally the tears still find me and I am also a total mess, no longer able to keep my composure. Most days, the hurt bubbles up to the surface and demands to be acknowledged in some way. The "easy" way out is to be bitter and angry, cynical, distrusting, guarded, aloof. To scowl at humanity and mutter under my breath, "You planned evil against me." But in His kindness, God whispers to me, "I planned it for good," a loving call to repentance. A push to choose a better way, to trust in Him and to look to Him every time the hurt bubbles up. To unclench my fist and hold His hand instead. To know that in His grace, I can be compassionate through tears. I can forgive. I can be gentle. I can be kind. Not because of me or my own good will, but because my hope and joy is in God alone and no injustice in my life can change His purposes.
Because He is good and I can trust Him.
"You planned evil against me; God planned it for good..." - Genesis 50:20 CSB
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